Part of Assassin's Series

Schicksal

The autumn wind howled against the windows in the dark loft, accompanied only by the sound of a small bell. First the bell sounded near the windows themselves, as if coming in from the cool streets of Paris... then it darted under the bed close by, only to dash across a sitting area and up onto a pool table. A flash of lightening in the far distance showed the white fur of a kitten as it pounced on the eightball.

Only a moment later the door to the loft creaked open, light from the plush hallway pooling inside and startling the kitten. The tiny creature tripped overtop of the eightball and fell onto the pool table's green surface with a cute mew of surprise.

"I've been feeding it, sir," the kitten perked up at the familiar voice and looked towards the door expectantly. "But I promise that I haven't touched anything else... just a few cupboards in the kitchen to find a couple of bowls and-"

"Stop appologizing, ma doux," a less familiar voice said, causing the kitten creep towards the side of the table in curiosity. A light flickered on, and the creature watched as two men walked in. One was tall and sleek, his blond hair streaked with red, and spoke with an intoxicating accent. "You vere jus' taking care of de little t'ing."

"Of course..." the second man was more familiar to the kitten, he having brought him up to the large loft and having fed him every night. The white creature meowed for the attention of this man, but was ignored; he was running a nervous hand through his black hair as he followed the blonde into the kitchen. "But still, I'm just the doorman... I'm not even supposed to have your key."

"So you entered using... other methods, non?" the blond chuckled, opening up a cupboard and taking down a bottle of wine. "If I vas upset at you, vould I 'ave asked you up for a drink?"

"N-no... I guess not..." the raven-haired man looked anywhere but at the blonde, and eventually saw the kitten still sitting on the pool table. "Ah, there he is!" The man rushed over to pet the kitten and she stretched into his hand in appreciation. "He's a gorgeous cat, sir... I was surprised when he was delivered to your loft, since your not living here at the moment and-"

"It's a fille," the blonde corrected at a length, placing two glasses beside the bottle before reaching to find a corkscrew.

"Oh, s-sorry..." the man appologized yet again.

"Stop appologizing," the blonde laughed again. "And please, call me Mörder... and you are?"

"Ah..." the man blushed, picking the kitten up in his hands and refusing to turn back to the kitchen, and the blonde. The kitten just mewled at all the attention after a day of running around and chasing invisible dust bunnies. The only people he had ever seen were the nice people who had taken him in a big flying machine, and then the mean man who sent him away from the place that was supposed to be his home... and then this man, here, who had taken him up to his new home and had fed him. "M-my name is Darren..."

"Darren," the name rolled off of Mörder's tongue. The blond hummed in satisfaction at the sound of the name, before pouring the wine. "Vell Darren... 'ave I told you dat you remind me of someone I once knew..?"

"Ah... n-no..." Darren shook his head and cautiously turned around, kitten in hand. "Who do I remind you of, Mörder..?"

"Hmm..." Mörder put the wine bottle away quietly before he turned as well, gesturing for Darren to come closer. "No one dat I should be remembering... did a note or letter come vith her..?"

"Since it was a private courier, a verbal message was transfered sir, ah... Mörder," Darren fumbled slightly over his words, petting the kitten a touch rougher as he did. She meowed in irritation and tried to nip at his thumb, but missed. The blonde nodded for Darren to continue, and with a blush he did. "Ah... the guy who answered the door was apparently named Torin, and he said 'We're engaged, so stop sending letters'..."

"No cursing?" Mörder replied immediately, though there seemed to be sadness in his voice.

"Oh, there was..." Darren blushed again. "But I'm not comfortable repeating what was said... I don't consider you to be any of those things."

"Oh really..?" Mörder sounded amused as he drank his entire glass of wine, before starting on the one he had offered Darren.

Darren set the kitten down on the counter gentle, and the creature watched as he took a couple of steps towards the blond. "Are you okay..?" He asked, taking both wine glasses out of his hands and setting them on the counter. "Did whomever you send her to... did they..." Darren looked away for a moment, nervousness seeping back into his voice. "Was she important to you..? Did you love her?"

"'im," Mörder corrected automatically. "And 'e used to..." he sighed, turning to pour more wine. "Ve'd better feed ce chaton before she starts complaining..."

"What happened?" Darren pressed, though he sounded a little more pleased than sympathetic.

"You jus' graduated from dat silly highschool of yours in America," the blond replied, pouring more wine before trying to find the kitten some food. "Jus' de normal 'eartbreak of one person leaving for another... Jus' dat I've 'arvested dese feelings for far too long. Vhat happened between me and 'im happened nearly 7 years ago."

"It must've been serious," Darren lamented, bringing a hand up to stroke the small of Mörder's back... the blond paused for a moment before continuing what he was doing. He found the cat food fast enough, and proceeded to find a bowl. "But it must be time to move on..."

"It vas time to move on years ago," Mörder snorted. "I don't know vhy I'm so surprised to see her still here... though now I suppose I 'ave to name her, right?"

"Yeah," Darren seemd disgruntled for some reason, and the kitten meowed again. Maybe he would return to pet her? "Um... what about Angel? She's white after all."

"Angel..?" Mörder chuckled. "You American's are so simple..." he put the would-be Angel's food on the floor before turning to look at Darren again. "You are très mignon, Darren... jus' like mon joli."

"Joli..?" Darren blinked in confusion. "Is that-"

"Nevermind," the blonde shook his head easily. "I'm not supposed to be t'inking about him."

"Oh..." the raven-haired man muttered. A question seemed to burn on his lips, waiting to be asked... he looked at the kitten for guidence, and the naive kitten only mewed. Drawing his courage from the sound, Darren looked back at the blonde and swallowed his pride. "... would you like me to help you?"

Mörder stared at him hard, his lips parted ever so slightly. He grabbed a glass of wine and gulped down the liquid before answering. "Darren... I shouldn't-"

"Stop," Darren boldly stepped back into the blonde's space, determination set in his eyes. "This isn't something to regret..." and before Mörder could respond the American Man had pushed him up against the countertop and had invaded Mörder's mouth with his lips.

The kitten watched for a moment as the glass fell out of the blonde's hand, breaking on the floor and splashing the red wine everywhere. Then with graceful paws she jumped onto the tiled floor and carefully made her way to the bowl of food.

"Mphf!" Mörder jumped suddenly, pushing Darren away; the blond fell to his knees and scooped the kitten up in his arms. "Faire attention Schicksal! Vous obtiendrez la blessure." He picked up the kitten's food, putting both it and the little creature on the counter top before trying to find something to clean the mess up with. "Ah, Schicksal..."

"Shikzelle?" Darren mimiced pourly, trying not to looked miffed by how he had been pushed away.

"Schicksal," Mörder corrected, finding a cloth to wipe up the spilt wine and broken glass. The kitten just happily started to munch on it's food. "It means 'destiny' in German..." Mörder send a nervous glance up at the kitten before he sighed. "I t'ink dat's what I'll call 'er."

"Oh," Darren nodded. "I um... I didn't know you knew German..?"

"My papa is German," Mörder explained. "'e's de one 'oo named me... could you get me de broom?"

"Of course," the raven-haired man hurried to do what Mörder asked, and even swept up the last of the broken shards of glass... it left the floor clean with Mörder still kneeling down on it. "Um... about before..."

"Don't appologize," Mörder laughed, slowly standing up. "I used ta do de same t'ing to sad jeunes filles... but dat was long ago."

Darren fiddled with the hem of his shirt, but once again stepped up to Mörder... he was less bold this time, looking up into the blonde's dark eyes and raising a hand to brush against his neck. "Not since him..?" The American breathed. Mörder only nodded, and once again Darren pulled him into a kiss...

This time there was no wine glass to shatter as it fell out of the blonde's hand, and the Schicksal was left to ponder why, the next morning, Darren was still there to feed her.

-Owari