It is so stimulating being your hat...

ninnive @ 2008-01-02T13:09:00

2008-01-02T12:24:23Z

Happy New Year, everyone!

I spent the night between the 31.12. and the 1.1. in Leipzig, watching 'Wallenstein'. All 3 parts in one go (a lot of people dozed off during the second part, but they drummed them awake again in the third). Great show, good breakfast buffet afterwards and the actor who played the Wallenstein was awesome.

*goes to catch up on sleep*

VF-Fic: Taking a Risk - Chapter 5

2007-11-23T07:52:24Z

Title: Taking a Risk – Chapter 5
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Viewfinder' by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: You should be careful if Asami decides to bring you a present...
Disclaimer: The Viewfinder-universe belongs to Yamane Ayano and this fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.

previous chapters

*

The next few weeks rushed by for Asami; he had so much work on his plate that it made the day seem to have not enough hours. Obviously the events in China had given some important people the impression that he'd gone soft and Asami wasn't about to let that opinion become permanent. So he did what had to be done – and found himself increasingly glad that Takaba wasn't around at the moment. The young man had a knack for getting into trouble even in the unlikeliest of situations and right now didn't qualify as such.

After making his position clear in a spectacular fashion – the rearranged power structure would keep both the underworld and the police busy for months –, Asami allowed himself a break for the first time. Although he'd kept an eye on the reports about Takaba all the time, he now took the opportunity to study them carefully and paint himself a clear mental picture of Takaba in his current situation. The man who'd been hired by Asami's acquaintance played his part really well and Asami had to remind himself repeatedly that he had issued the man's orders and that he could hardly blame him for doing as he'd been told.

When Asami was finished going through all the files, he fixed a schedule for the next stage of his plans. This would be the part he hated most, so he took particular care to look at it with a forced impartiality. After all, he didn't want to risk blowing everything up because of his desire to rush the events along before the time was right.

*

Takaba didn't say a word when he opened the door and found Asami in front of it. Instead he positioned himself to block the door, making it clear that the Yakuza wasn't invited in.

Asami controlled his urge to smirk at that; he didn't want to come across as condescending or threatening. "Akihito," he greeted in an absolutely neutral tone.

"What do you want here?"

"There's no need to snap at me like that. I came by… as a friend, I guess. Just because I think it best to end our sexual relationship doesn't mean I never want to socialize with you again. I'd like to try being friends. If you're up for it."

Asami could practically see Takaba's mind jumping from one silent question to the next during his declaration, but the young man didn't say a single word. He just crossed his arms in front of his chest, bit his lower lip and looked at Asami.

Wordlessly, Asami took two small cards out of a pocket and put them between Takaba's crossed arms and his chest. "Here," he said. "For you and whoever you want to take. As far as I know, you'll be the only reporter invited there. You should be able to sell that story for quite a bit."

"Asami, what is this supposed to mean?" Takaba had taken a good look at the cards and was now looking quite nervous. "These are invitations to…"

"I know what they are. Just take them without making such a drama out of it, okay? I wanted to do you a favour, nothing more."

"A favour. Fine. That should mean that you don't want anything in return," Takaba said with his voice full of doubt.

Asami let a small smile loose; nothing menacing, just enough to confuse his ex-lover. "I don't," he said. Which was, of course, a lie. But if Asami had anything to say about it, Takaba would never realize that.

... tbc ...

VF-Fic: Taking a Risk - Chapter 4

2007-09-25T19:20:49Z

Happy Birthday, tweety_ich! *hugs*

And I finally managed to update...

Title: Taking a Risk - Chapter 4
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Viewfinder'-series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: PG
Warnings: vague spoilers for the entire series
Summary: an important conversation

Disclaimer: The whole 'Viewfinder'-universe is Yamane Ayano's.

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3

*

The hours until eight o'clock seemed to crawl by very slowly. There was nothing to distract Asami from thinking about the upcoming conversation and he found that he had to exercise a remarkable amount of self-control to avoid going over the endless possibilities how this could go wrong, again and again. When he was finally getting sick of roaming his apartment or trying to sit still enough to go through some yoga exercises, he decided to have a sparring round with a few of his men. Aside from a fuck, there was nothing like a good hands-on fight to clear one's head, after all.

*

At three minutes to eight, Asami was the picture of calmness. He was sitting in his favourite armchair, his entire body relaxed and in a pose that was as unthreatening as he could possibly manage. The glass in his hands held a dark brand of apple juice (which could be easily mistaken for whisky or something similar if one didn't look too closely) and his freshly acquired bruises were all hidden behind one of his better suits (none of them were anywhere near his face – his men knew what was good for them).

When the door to his apartment finally opened, Asami didn't bother to move but just leaned back and waited. And sure enough, after the sounds of someone taking off their shoes and jacket had faded, the soft footsteps of Takaba came slowly nearer.

"Asami?" The young man's voice was controlled, nearly without expression, but the widened eyes betrayed his uncertainty nonetheless.

"Akihito. Please, have a seat. Do you want something to drink?"

"Umm, no, thanks. Asami, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Aah, going right for the artery, aren't you?"

"Well, you sounded bloody serious," Takaba said defiantly.

"And I am. I just wanted to be polite." The only answer Asami got for that last statement was a loud snort. "Fine. Right for the artery we go, then. I definitely didn't like how your last visit here ended."

At that, Takaba clenched his hands to fists so tightly that the knuckles stood out white. "You didn't like how…" he began incredulously.

"Akihito, let me finish," Asami interrupted him, not unkindly, but in a determined way. "I'm not very good at saying this – and I sure as hell don't like saying it – but I don't think I've got a choice anymore. I've thought about what you've said when I asked you why you had stayed with me. You remember?"

"Yes, of course. I said I don't know."

"Exactly. And that answer is simply unacceptable for me."

It was quite obvious that Takaba would have liked to say something to that, and if the disbelieving anger that was written all over his face was anything to go by, probably at full volume, but something in Asami's expression seemed to hold him back. Barely, but still. After staring in the other man's face for quite a while, Takaba finally pressed out a deep breath. "What do you mean by that, exactly? What would be an acceptable answer?"

"What would be the point in just telling you? I haven't asked you here to play games. You may find it hard to believe, but I do care about you." That simple sentence seemed to get to Takaba like a direct blow to the stomach. Seeing the disbelieving and utterly bewildered expression on Takaba's face, Asami just smiled bitterly. "What we're doing right now isn't healthy. Not for either of us."

"Since when do you care about healthy?" Takaba asked, not understanding where this was headed. "You smoke and drink all the time like there's no tomorrow! And let's not get started about your line of 'work' – that's also hardly healthy!"

"That's exactly what I mean. I'm not doing this because of me."

"So, what you're saying is…"

"That I don't want you to be with me because you're scared or confused. We should end this affair."

"Fine, I've got no problems with that! After all, I didn't want it in the first place!" Takaba shouted while crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"That's settled then," Asami said in a tone of closure.

Takaba just nodded weakly. He got up and got his shoes and jacket, dressing slowly. Reaching for the door handle, he suddenly asked: "So, that's it?"

"Is that really a question?"

"No. I just… I mean… Goodbye. I wish you a happy life, I guess."

"You, too. Oh, and Akihito?"

"Yes?"

"You should know by now that lying to yourself will not be getting you very far."

"That's no longer any of your business."

chapter 5

HP-Fic: Circles & Lines - Chapter 4

2007-09-21T18:22:25Z

Title: Circles and Lines – Chapter 4

Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of violence and character deaths

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: This fic was begun before book 7 was out, so it is not DH-compliant

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3

*

Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead… The sentence seemed to dance around in Harry's head, becoming quieter and quieter with every iteration until it settled as a faint buzzing that blocked his throat and pressed against the insides of his eyes, urging him to cry. And now it was he who got gripped around his arms and shaken softly until he could remember that this was not the time to fall apart.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said with tears in his voice. "Are you…" A sigh. "Will you be alright?"

Harry closed his eyes and gave a single, sharp nod. "Yeah," he croaked. "How… how did it happen?"

"In an ugly way – she's been ripped apart by some curse I didn't recognize. Maybe… maybe it was something else gone wrong; I've never seen something like that."

"Any idea who it was?"

A shrug, and then Ron said: "Right now they're trying to trace their wands."

Harry snorted. "Good luck with that – it's almost never successful!"

"I know. We have to try though. And I wondered – if maybe you could come help us."

"Help you? In trying to trace wand signatures?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Not exactly, no," Ron said, gazing intently at Harry. "They left some kind of smoky snake-thing at the scene, and I thought you could try to talk to it…"

Harry felt an uncomfortable feeling build in his stomach, nesting beside the grief about Tonks; he'd never gotten comfortable with being a Parselmouth, no matter how often the rare ability had proved itself useful. But he nodded anyway. "Yes, of course I'll try it. It's the least I owe to Tonks."

*

Two hours later, Harry and Ron were finished at the crime scene, both of them pale like ghosts. The mangled body of Tonks had been taken away over an hour ago, but the heavy smell of blood still lingered in the air, reminding them of the awful sight. When they'd arrived, the curling and hissing smoke serpent had already begun to disintegrate, and Harry'd had a lot of trouble to get some understandable sentences out of it before it had vanished entirely. Most of them still didn't make any sense, but the repeated referring to the murdered woman as 'an unworthy half-blood' gave at least a clue to the political corner the attackers came out of. Surprisingly, the tracing of the wand signatures had shown some results, too. They still couldn't identify the curse that had been utilized, but they now knew that Tonks' murderer had used an ebony wand, not longer than nine and a half inches, with a core of dragon heartstring.

Ron was about to leave for Ollivander's to see if the old wandmaker could help them narrow down the possibilities, while Harry just wanted to go home, curl up in his bed and not think about what had happened. And after saying his good-byes to the team of Aurors and arranging a time to meet Ron tomorrow, he Apparated directly into his bedroom and tried to do exactly that.

With limited success. Every time he managed to chase this afternoon's gory images far enough away to be able to fall asleep, he fell right into his nightmares of the end of the war. And after he had woken from his own screams for the third time, Harry finally gave up. He dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen where Cally was already busy brewing a cup of chamomille tea, her panacea for her master's occasional bouts of nightmare-induced sleeplessness. Wordlessly, she handed him the cup when it was ready and then vanished into her room. Harry curled up on a kitchen chair, sipped his tea and tried to let the warmth of it get rid of the tension in his body.

*

Monday went by in irregular hops. While the early hours of the morning had gone by in no time, the meeting with the house-elves seemed to go on and on while Harry struggled to find the right words that would convince them to make reports about anything that might be connected to Ron's cases. Technically, Harry was the elves' employer, but in reality it was nearly impossible to get them to betray the families they worked for. When he was finally halfway sure that he'd get news of any suspicious on-goings, Harry sent the elves back and tried to get some of his paperwork done. But all he managed to do was staring blankly at the first sheet of paper, reading through it again and again without actually understanding a word.

The soft chime of the alarm charm he'd set yesterday finally pulled Harry out of his brooding. He had to meet Ron in 15 minutes and until then he really should have gotten his act together. The last thing his best friend needed now was having to worry about him on top of everything else. So, summoning some of the mental techniques that Remus had taught him during the war, Harry breathed in deeply, pushed the leaden feeling of lethargy out of his belly and forced himself to focus. He felt better almost instantly; not any less sad or angry, but no longer as if he was helplessly drowning inside of his own memories. He stood up, got his coat and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Ron was already waiting for him, two boxes with spicy smelling food in hands. "I got us some Chinese take away. I don't really want to be in a crowd right now."

Harry nodded and took the box that Ron handed him. "Where to?"

"That clearing near the Lovegoods' house? It's quiet there."

"Eager to see some Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? Or is Luna back in the country?" Harry asked, genuinely curious but also a little worried. He'd never understood Ron's on-and-off relationship with Luna and found it very strange that Gabrielle obviously didn't mind. But then, most women seemed rather strange to him.

"No idea, mate," Ron answered carefully. He knew that Harry wasn't comfortable with the situation and usually avoided the topic if at all possible. "The last I heard from her was nearly two months ago. She was in Amsterdam then, doing research for a new book."

"Well, let's go before the food gets cold."

They Apparated together and then just sat down in the soft grass and began to eat. Harry, who'd never been a fan of chopsticks, had to concentrate on not letting half of his portion fall to the ground while Ron managed, as usual, to eat and talk at the same time. "We're working through the list Ollivander whipped up for me yesterday," he said, chewing. "There are 37 wands from him that fit the description, and it's of course entirely possible that the murderer got it from somewhere else."

"So, no lead yet?"

"No. But the whole department is buzzing right now. Everyone wants to see the case solved and I guess we won't get much sleep before we don't have something."

"Then what are you doing here with me?"

Ron gave him a deliberately casual look. "You seemed quite out of it yesterday."

Harry shrugged. "I hadn't expected to see so much blood ever again. And Tonks… But you don't need to worry. I'm better now."

"Have you slept at all?"

Shaking his head lightly, Harry looked away. "I've set the house-elves on watch for anything suspicious this morning," he said in an attempt to change the subject. "If something comes up, I'll owl you immediately."

"Okay, then. I really need to get back to work now but I'll come by as soon as I've got time."

"How about you get some rest as soon as you've got time? I'm not about to crack, Ron. And I really don’t need you to fuss over me."

"Fine!" Ron said in a somewhat hurt tone. And before Harry could say anything else, he'd Disapparated.

Sighing, Harry got up from the ground and vanished their now empty food boxes. He wasn't really keen on going back home, but he had still a stack of paperwork waiting for him.

… to be continued…

HP 7

2007-07-23T04:51:53Z

They sure do use a lot of 'accio'... *g*

I never liked Dumbledore, and that opinion only strengthened in 'DH'. Snape brings it to the point. '… you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter –' That's just revolting. And this is the man Harry later names one of his children after?

The kissing scene between Ron & Hermione is One Big Cliche. And a silly one.

And after Ginny!Sue in HBP here comes virtuallynonexistent!Ginny. And a good thing that is, because in the scenes she appears in, she's just annoying, petty and cheap. Lecturing Harry about not dallying around with Veela while he's away fighting Voldemort? Sending him with Luna instead of Cho to Ravenclaw Tower? What does she think – that they would have a quickie behind the next armour?

Do they have divorces in Potterworld? I don't think I've ever seen one in the books (except Tom Riddle sr. running out on Merope – and look there that led to…). Even characters that are painted very negative, usually have happy relationships (the Dursley parents seem very devoted to each other, as do the Malfoys). Everyone seems to have very conservative views – marrying young, having more or less children, staying together until death does part them seems to be the norm. At Bill's and Fleur's wedding Harry can't help picturing Ginny as a bride – and he has been together with her how long exactly? And the first thought of little Lily upon hearing that Teddy snogs Victoire, is that they should marry… *shudders*

Why one of the twins?! Aren't there enough other Weasleys who could have died? *cough*Ginny*cough* And Bellatrix would so have AK'd Molly…

Much love for McGonagall! And Hermione – she's just great. And although she cries a lot, that doesn't make her 'weepy' or less tough. Ron is mostly an idiot, but has his moments. His continued insistence to protect her although she's the better magician is somewhat embarassing.

The scenes between Harry & Draco make me happy (Harry using Draco's wand, Harry and Draco both not wanting the other to die, Harry rescuing Draco twice) – and they both live, so hopefully there'll be fic… *g*

All in all, I really liked the book – it's dark, multi-layered, shows its characters in shades of grey and still manages to be funny in the right places. And then comes the epilogue and sours a series of 7 books of adventure, mystery and fun that I had thoroughly enjoyed so far. These last few pages are just dumb – they appear totally put on, a glimpse into the 'happily ever after', complete with hordes of gruesomely named children (JKR deserves every AS/S-shipper she gets for that!) that look like their predictably paired-up parents, an idiot!Ron (come on, egging the 'good' kids on against the next Malfoy – has he not learned anything??) and all was well…

WTF?? The Potter books have always been dark; they begin with murder and end with it, there's always been emphasis on human weaknesses and they portray a flawed society – prejudices, racism, corruptibility, all this occurs in early parts of the series. And in 'DH', Voldemort practically rules the Wizarding World, everybody who's not a Death Eater lives in terror, people turn traitor on each other, Muggleborns get robbed of their wands and either go to Azkaban or are forced to beg for their survival and a whole generation of Hogwarts students is abused and tortured by the new regime for a whole year (what Neville tells Harry about life at Hogwarts is like dark!fic…). And then, 19 years later, there's not a fleck of dirt on everyone's happiness? I don't think so. Could we please pretend that the book ended with Harry wanting a sandwich for all his troubles? Pretty please?

RL

2007-07-16T20:17:26Z

I'm back from Berlin - compulsorily. My ex-boss is totally bankrupt - hasn't paid his rent since February and been thrown out of his flat and the office rooms. The dunning letters from the phone company, the tax advisor and the health insurance company have been flooding the mail. And of course he has no money to pay my salary. I've filed a lawsuit in front of the labour court but it seems that the company I have my work contract with doesn't actually exist legally - so my chances of getting any of the money look bad right now...

So due to my financial situation I've been moving in with my Mum again - and she's been cranky and overly irritable ever since; she's exploding nearly every day, because of tiny and / or stupid things. Her tendency to misinterpret everything I say in the worst possible manner makes it hard to avoid arguments, she finds a reason even when I'm trying to be as peaceful as possible (and I'm not, by nature, a peaceful human being, so that's hard in itself)...

I've got a job interview tomorrow - anybody wish me luck?

HP-Fic: Circles and Lines - Part 3

2007-06-13T20:44:46Z

Title: Circles and Lines – Part 3

Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of Ron/Gabrielle
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of character deaths

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.

Summary: Harry is hungover – not the best condition for letter-writing…

chapter 1, chapter 2

*

'Sunday Morning & the Hangover from Hell' would in Harry's opinion have been a more appropriate headline for today's 'Daily Prophet' than the actual 'Incident in the Department of International Cooperation – Chinese Delegation scandalised'. He couldn't even pretend to be interested in the Ministry's latest mishap and brushed the paper aside without further ado, watching tiredly as it fell to the floor. That earned him a disapproving sigh from Cally, but when Harry raised an eyebrow, daring her to say something, she just cleared away the paper and went on preparing the breakfast. The tiny house-elf had been with him for fourteen years now and didn't show any sign of being impressed by his bad mood. In fact, she didn't show any sign of noticing him at all, which happened rarely but when it did, it could go on for days. And it unvariably ended in Harry apologizing for whatever he'd done, so he decided to skip the rest and just gave in.

"Listen, Cally, I'm sorry for being such an arse, but –"

"Oh, but Master Harry shouldn't speak such things of himself," the elf interrupted him hastily, abandoning the silent treatment immediately as usual. But not without adding: "And Master Harry really shouldn't drink so much when he's with Master Weasley!"

Harry answered that statement with a weak groan that could be interpreted as agreement and reached for the proffered cup of coffee. When the bitter fluid had managed to exorcise at least parts of his hangover, he asked Cally to order all the house-elves that worked for his agency to a meeting tomorrow morning. What Ron had told him yesterday (before the alcohol level had rendered them both incoherent) definitely warranted a closer look.

It seemed that the recent disappearances of Summerby and Goldstein – the first a high-ranking Unspeakable and the second one a secretary of Minister Scrimgeour – were only the last in a chain of suspicious incidents that had played out since last December. Just before Christmas there had been a large-scale robbery in a shop in Knockturn Alley that dealt with obscure magical items and since then a number of rather crude Obliviations had happened among seemingly unconnected people, some of them Ministry officials. Naturally, the victims couldn't tell what they'd been forced to forget, but all of this had first started after a bunch of Death Eaters that had played only minor parts in the Second War had been pardonned; Lucius Malfoy, who'd been in Azkaban since his capture in Harry's fifth Hogwarts-year, the most prominent among them.

Ron wanted to have an eye on the newly released, but as long as there wasn't an 'official interest' in the proceedings, there wasn't much he could do without getting himself into trouble. And since he'd been in trouble with his superiors far too often in the last years, that wouldn't be a good idea. So Harry had promised Ron to ask his house-elves to have a look around in the households that were connected to former Voldemort-supporters. He wouldn't normally abuse his position in such a way, but when it came to possible Death Eaters, there was a noticeable shift in Harry's morale system. They'd cost him too much and he wasn't willing to go through that again if he was able to prevent it in any way.

The arrival of a grim-looking eagle owl wrenched Harry from that rather depressing train of thought. The large bird landed in the middle of the table and, after staring some seconds at Harry, extended a leg to present a neatly tied roll of parchment to him. Slowly, Harry took it off and then reached for a strip of fried bacon to feed it to the owl, but it only turned away its head with an expression as if insulted, spread its wings and flew off, knocking off Harry's empty cup in the process.

Shrugging, Harry ate the bacon himself and unfolded the note.

Dear Harry, it said in a small and sharp script, if you've got time, I'd like to meet you next Tuesday; I could pick you up around eight. And no, this isn't a scheme to abduct you into some high-class noble restaurant and then laugh about your table-manners, so stop fretting. I am just curious. Best regards, Draco Malfoy.

Blinking, Harry read the few sentences again – twice – but that didn't change the fact that he'd just been invited to dinner (he guessed) by Draco Malfoy. That really shouldn't have come as such a surprise after their strange encounter in Godric's Hollow, but Harry had nearly managed to repress that until now. He hadn't even mentioned it to Ron yesterday. Still staring at the single sheet of parchment, he realized that he should probably send an answer. There wasn't really a reason not to meet Malfoy - Draco - Harry reminded himself – and truth be told, he was curious what the other man had been up to in the last nineteen years.

So, after sending Cally for parchment, quill and ink, Harry spent the next half hour trying to formulate a coherent answer that basically said Fine, I'll meet with you; see you Tuesday., but hadn't yet come past the salutation: ~~Dear Dra To Draco Malfoy Hi Draco Dear~~ Draco.

"I don't have time for this," Harry told nobody in particular after staring at his unmoving quill for about ten minutes. "And it is utterly ridiculous!" And going back to his Gryffindor roots, he just wrote Yes in big, bold letters, folded and sealed the parchment and went to look for one of his owls.

*

Harry was lazing around throughout the rest of the day, leaning back and dividing his attention between reading through a book he couldn't even remember the title of and thinking that maybe he should go and pay a visit to Neville. Or Padma. Probably Padma, who at least wouldn't be hounding him about the sorry state of his love life; Neville had developed quite the matchmaking streak after settling down himself a few years ago and Harry didn't have the nerve for enduring his well-meant attempts to set him up with one or other of his Muggle wife's acquaintances today.

But before Harry could decide if he really wanted to get off the sofa, the sudden Apparition of Ron startled him out of these thoughts.

"Ron?" Harry asked in a tight voice. Ron wore his Auror uniform and a defeated expression that set Harry's alarm bells off. "Ron! What's wrong?"

"Harry. I came here as soon as… You shouldn't… shouldn't have to read it in the papers. She was a friend, after all…" Ron nearly whispered.

Harry stood up and gripped his friend tightly around the arms, shaking him slightly. "What happened? Who… was a friend, after all?!"

Snapping out of his stupor, Ron finally managed to say what he'd come for. "Tonks. Tonks is dead."

chapter 4

HP-Fic: Circles and Lines - Part 2

2007-04-05T14:34:41Z

Title: Circles and Lines – Part 2

Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of Ron/Gabrielle
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of character deaths

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: Written for tarie's request at serpentinelion's 'Secrets and Wishes Fest': 'The One Where Gay!Draco and Straight!Harry are Forty, Greying, and Haven't Seen One Another Since the War, But They Cross Paths Just as New Dark Lord Stan Shunpike (Or Was That Gilderoy Lockhart?) and His Followers Start a New War and Stuff Happens.'

chapter 1

*

Harry reappeared with a sharp 'pop' in what had been once the kitchen of the Potter house. Godric's Hollow had been inhabited solely by Muggles since the night his parents had been killed, so it wouldn't do to just Apparate into the graveyard of the village, even if it was dark by now – Harry had never managed a silent Apparition in his life and he disliked Obliviating people, having witnessed one too many careless Memory Spell gone wrong during his time as an Auror.

Mulling over Ron's vague explanations, Harry climbed out of the ruins of the house and walked the short way to the little graveyard. If his best friend had a bad feeling about Lucius Malfoy, then Harry thought the man should better be investigated. And if Malfoy once again walked in his old circles, then there wouldn't even be a need to bother Ron's superiors about a search warrant – most of the Pureblood families were Harry's clients and it would be easy to keep track of any suspicious occurrences in their houses…

The sight of the entrance door to the graveyard abruptly chased any thoughts of blooming conspiracies from Harry's mind and left him with the long-familiar mixture of grief and guilt. Steeling himself, he pushed open the door, headed straight for Remus' grave, intent on getting this over with as fast as possible – and stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the figure kneeling in front of the the Werewolf's tombstone, illuminated by the sharp light of a wand. This couldn't possibly be…

"Malfoy?!" Must have summoned the bastard by thinking about him, why else would he be here? was the first thought that shot through Harry's mind, quickly followed by Ooh… when the blond head turned around and revealed an unexpected face.

"Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry repeated, his tone far less hostile than before.

"Yes, I think we've established that."

"No, I mean, it's you. I thought… you look an awful lot like your father. Uhmm, from behind." Harry grimaced when his brain caught up with what he was saying; the one sure topic to get a rise out of Draco Malfoy had always been his family and although they hadn't seen each other for nearly two decades, he couldn't imagine that Lucius Malfoy could be a safe subject between them now.

But the expected fit of temper didn't come. Instead, Malfoy smiled with so much bitterness that Harry barely managed not to look away. "Potter, when have you last seen my father?"

"21 years ago, at the day of his trial," Harry whispered. "Listen, I didn't mean to…"

"Yeah, me neither," Malfoy interrupted him and turned back towards the grave. Harry didn't ask what he was doing here – he knew what had happened that night, could feel the memories of blood and cries and more blood crawl just outside of his awareness and felt that Malfoy's tense posture and balled-up fists were answer enough.

"Aren't you goint to tell me that I should stop beating myself up about it? That it wasn't my fault?"

"No, Malfoy," Harry replied carefully. "I don't believe me saying that would help overly much. It never does when I'm the one staring at Bill Weasley's grave like that."

Malfoy obviously hadn't expected that answer – his head whipped around and for the first time in this conversation he really looked at Harry, searching him all over with his gaze. Harry didn't know what the other man was looking for, but he could tell he'd found it when Malfoy's shoulders visibly relaxed and his defensive expression morphed into an almost-smile. "I nearly forgot," he said. "You were there, too. Right behind me when they attacked?"

"Yeah." Harry had to force the word out, pushing it through the wall of ugly memories that had built itself around him. The next ones came much easier: "I think that was the only time we ever fought together. On the same side, I mean."

"I know what you meant. And Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Help me up, I'm not longer talking to you while kneeling at your feet!"

Unprepared for this sudden change of mood, Harry just reached out and caught Malfoy's hand, pulling him up. Before he could let go, Malfoy grinned at him mischieveously, tightened the grip on his fingers and subjected him to an exaggerated handshake. "Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you."

"Malfoy, have you finally lost your mind!?" Harry cried, trying to pull away. That only earned him a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Oh fine. Fine! I'm Harry Potter. And feeling terribly childish right now."

"I promise not to tell anyone."

"I'd rather you'd stop crushing my hand."

Malfoy loosened his grip but didn't let go. "That better?" And obviously Harry's totally confused expression translated to 'no', because Malfoy finally released him.

"Malfoy…"

"Draco."

"What?"

"Draco," Malfoy repeated in a firm voice. "I've decided to start over with you."

Harry felt like he'd been hit with a Confundus Charm. What makes you think I'd go along with that? was on the tip of his tongue, but somewhere in his eleven years as an Auror he had learned when to keep his mouth shut and he settled for a "Why?".

"Why not? It has been more than 20 years since we've last seen each other. We could as well be two totally different persons."

Remembering his words about Hermione, Harry conceded without further argument. "Yeah, I guess I can't argue with that."

"But I bet you would like to."

"This conversation just keeps on getting weirder – "

"Yes, imagine how the next one will go," Malfoy - Draco - said teasingly. "And before you ask 'The next one?' like some kind of overgrown parrot, yes there will be a next one. I've somewhere heard the ridiculous rumour that you're running a house-elf rental service these days and you're going to tell me all about it. I'll owl you when I've got time." Turning around, he once more faced Remus' tombstone. "Did you know that he'd saved my mother from an attack by her own sister just three days before I killed him?"

"No, I didn't," Harry said slowly. "Umm, Draco…"

"No, it's okay. Just, spare him your 'I feel so guilty'-speech, would you? I think he heard enough of that from me today." And with a barely audible sound Draco Malfoy Apparated away, taking with him his wand that had illuminated the scene. Harry was left in the dark.

chapter 3

HP-Fic: Circles and Lines - Part 1

2007-04-01T18:01:18Z

Title: Circles and Lines – Part 1

Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of Ron/Gabrielle
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of character deaths

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: Written for tarie's request at serpentinelion's 'Secrets and Wishes Fest': ' The One Where Gay!Draco and Straight!Harry are Forty, Greying, and Haven't Seen One Another Since the War, But They Cross Paths Just as New Dark Lord Stan Shunpike (Or Was That Gilderoy Lockhart?) and His Followers Start a New War and Stuff Happens.'

*

In spite of its many visitors, the graveyard was very quiet. Most people who were here today just wanted to remember the dead in silence; they'd said their good-byes a long time ago. Twenty-one years, to be precise.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, too, were simply standing in front of a plain tombstone and staring at the name and date written there without actually seeing it.

"She…" Ron finally began to speak, only to change his mind and sigh instead.

"I just realized," Harry said slowly, "that we couldn't even tell what she would do or say in a certain situation anymore. It's been so long; for all we know she would be in India right now, having insane amounts of tantric sex because that was the one magical subject she hadn't yet mastered."

Ron laughed at that and murmured something about Harry spending way too much time with the Patil twins these days, but Harry knew him well enough to hear the tears in his voice when he said: "Yeah, sure. But then we'd be with her. Or maybe not, but… she'd be there. I just… I still miss her so much. It's not the same, only the two of us."

"No, it isn't," Harry replied in a tired voice. He knelt down, stretched out his hand and skimmed slowly over the inscription of the tombstone. After a whispered 'See you later.' he stood up jerkily and grabbed Ron's shoulder, steering him around and pushing him to walk away. "Come on, let's go. It'll be dark soon and we've yet to visit Moody's."

"Yes, alright," Ron agreed readily. "But I hope you know that, no matter how much she'd changed, she'd always be terribly proud of you and what you're doing, don't you?"

"Well, she'd better be," Harry said, his voice somewhere between laughing and crying. "It was her crazy idea, after all." Deeply sighing, he finally let go of Ron's shoulder and together they walked two rows of graves down and then five left to the area where the Aurors were buried who'd lost their lives in the Second War. It was a long line of names – names of people they'd known and worked with – and in the middle of it they were greeted by a 'Constant Vigilance!' – engraved into an otherwise empty grey tombstone.

"Hey, Mad-Eye!" Ron's voice had lost the desperate edge it had shown at Hermione's grave and gone almost cheery. "I wouldn't want to know what you'd say to the going-ons at the Auror Department right now! I can practically hear you yelling at us all until we'd be sinking into the ground from shame. You'd make us work double-shifts until we'd found Goldstein and Summerby. And you'd probably hex this 'I've gotten away again – and you can't do anything about it'-expression right off Lucius Malfoy's face yourself…"

Harry interrupted the increasing rambling by placing his hand lightly on Ron's spine. "Hey," he said when the monologue had subsided. "He's been occupied with Auror business all his life and he died to protect us – don't you think that he deserves some peace from this stuff at least now?"

"He wouldn't have minded."

"Probably not. But you know who else wouldn't mind listening to your problems? Me. And I, unlike him, am even able to answer you."

"You know exactly that we're not supposed to talk about internals with people outside the Auror Department."

"And I guess that's why you're here, pouring out your heart at a dead man's grave while I'm standing right behind you!"

Ron's only reply to that was to cross his arms tight around his chest and look away in defiance.

Harry didn't have it in him to get angry – not today – , after all he knew that Ron had never reacted well to sarcasm; so he decided to cut this quarrel short and gave in. "I'm sorry," he said tersely, not specifying what exactly he was apologizing for.

"Yeah, me too," Ron answered after a while. "But everything is just so tense right now, they're all out of their minds because there's still no clue why Goldstein and Summerby might have disappeared… and I miss you at work. At least sometimes, when everyone else seems incompetent or an arsehole – or both. I still don't understand why you left the Aurors; it's not like you weren't needed there…"

It was Harry's turn to barricade himself behind crossed arms. "Let's not argue about that," he nearly pleaded. "Not again. I thought we were over this a long time ago."

"I was merely stating a fact," Ron said with a stubborn note in his voice. "I wasn't intending to argue about anything."

"Fine, then let's not. And don't give me that crap about 'not supposed to talk about whatever' – you know exactly that I wouldn't say a word to anybody else. That you can trust me."

A deep breath later, Ron turned around to face Harry. "Of course I do trust you," he murmured with a guilty expression.

"But?"

"But nothing. There's some strange stuff going on right now, and I can't shake off the feeling that it has something to do with Lucius Malfoy's release from Azkaban last year. But when I suggested to have him supervised, I got lectured about how he had served his time and how he had been declared fit for re-entry into society, bla bla bla… Happy now? I really don't want to talk about it; today is depressing enough as it is. Let's discuss this later, okay?"

"Okay," Harry agreed. "How about having a drink on Saturday? We haven't been out since… well, forever."

"A drink sounds good."

"I'll pick you up." Harry took a step forward, so that he was standing right next to Ron, focussing his gaze on the tombstone in front of them. "Thank you, Moody," he simply said, not adding anything else.

Ron just nodded to that. Taking a look around, he noticed that the graveyard was now nearly empty. "I'll better go," he said. "I promised to look after the kids this evening, Gabrielle is going out with some of her co-workers."

"Sure. I'm going to stop by at Godric's Hollow and then call it a day, too. I will say hi to Remus for you."

"Thanks." Ron's face fell into a half-smile. "See you Saturday, then?"

"Yeah, Saturday. And don't think you'll somehow get around telling me what's going on. You will spill your guts – and if I have to dose you up on Veritaserum…"

A loud snort showed clearly what Ron thought of that statement. "Veritaserum? Considering your potions 'skills', you'd better go with getting me drunk!"

"Hey!" Harry tried to sound offended. "I could always get one of the elves to brew it for me."

"Well, now I'm really scared."

"As you should be, you prat…"

"Bye, Harry!"

And with a last look and a smile at each other the two men Apparated in different directions.

chapter 2

VF-Fic: Taking a Risk - Part 3

2007-04-01T17:23:47Z

Title: Taking a Risk – Part 3
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Viewfinder'-series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: G
Warnings: vague spoilers for the entire series
Summary: Asami has a busy day

Disclaimer: The whole 'Viewfinder'-universe is Yamane Ayano's.

chapter 1, chapter 2

*

The short but determined knocking on the door caught Asami completely unprepared and wrenched him out of an uneasy sleep. Slowly pulling the blanket from his body, he fought against the urge to roll himself into a foetal position, ignore the noise and hide from everything out there. But the knowledge that only an emergency could have caused somebody to disturb him in his own flat let Asami stand up and open the door, nearly knocking it into the man who stood in front of it in the process.

"Asami-sama?" One of his bodyguards; voice steady but the pinched face showed clearly that the man wished he was elsewhere.

Asami waved any further comments aside. "Whatever it is, it will have to wait until I've had a shower and a change of clothes," he declared brusquely.

Nodding, the other man hurried to his position outside the bulding, obviously relieved to get away. And when Asami arrived in the bathroom and glanced into the mirror, he suddenly understood why the normally unimpressible bodyguard had been in such a haste – he looked frightening with prominent sleep wrinkles in face and clothes, hair like an exploded hedgehog, a grim expression and blood-shot eyes. After a brief sniff at his shirt, he wrinkled his nose and added 'smelling like a whole barrel of whisky' to the list. Well, all that was nothing an ice-cold shower wouldn't be able to fix.

*

Nineteen hours later Asami finally found the time to sit back and relax. It had been an ugly day – the escalation of a long-simmering quarrel with one of the newer players in Tokyo's underworld. They hadn't been able to keep the authorities out of the business and two of his men had been injured, one of them seriously.

Asami had organized their transport to a hospital where they would get an excellent medical treatment without having to answer any annoying questions and was just finished grilling some of his contacts in the responsible police department, when he realized that this was all for today. There was nothing else to be done for now; any possible further steps would have to wait until some of today's ruffled feathers had been smoothed. Looking over the stacks of paper that had gathered on his desk over the last two days, Asami desperately wished for a drink, and a good one – but the memory of the state he'd been in last morning quelled that particular impulse as soon as it came up.

He opted for a coffee instead and began to tackle the piles of documents in front of him vigorously, brushing aside everything that wasn't high-priority and making short work of the things that were.

When he'd cleared anything work-related off his desk, Asami stared for a long time at the remaining few sheets. The report on Takaba, printed on baby-pink paper, just to rile the young man up in the improbable case he ever found the file somehow. That thought coaxed a smile onto Asami's face and he decided that he'd earned to indulge his obsession a little. Reading through the scarce but thorough report he noted that the content didn't surprise him one bit – Takaba was fairly predictable after all, especially when he was angry, and Asami was usually a reliable judge of character; he wouldn't have made it very far in his 'profession' otherwise.

Still smiling, Asami leaned back and focussed on the exact words he was going to say later. That wasn't something he had to do often – normally he just commanded everyone around him without thinking about it, and at the rare opportunities at which he dealed with equals, there often was a rigid protocol dictating large parts of the conversation. This was different – for the first time in years, Asami wanted something that he couldn't just buy some way or another and to get it he would have to be very careful with what he was going to say.

*

Takaba had radiated anger when he'd first noticed Asami loiter around the periphery of the photoset he was working on, but the longer the Yakuza just stood around, not even smoking, the more nervous he became. And after nearly an hour of pretending to ignore Asami, he finally seemed to be at the end of the line.

Suppressing a triumphant smile, Asami watched Takaba storming towards him. The photographer was trying very hard not to run and ended up stumbling, barely managing not to fall to the ground. "What do you want here?!" The question was flung in an acidic tone, but Takaba had never been able to stay angry very long, and already his expression began to soften, hovering somewhere between curiosity, suspicion and excitement.

"I came to ask if you have time this evening – I need to talk to you."

"And that's why you're hovering around here for ages? You could have just called! And since when does it matter if I have time; you usually make me have time for you."

"Yes, but this is important." Asami let some of the seriousness of the matter bleed into his voice, showing clearly that this was not one of his power games. "Do you have time?"

"Uhm… yes. Yes, I have. Asami… what is this about?" Takaba asked warily. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing dangerous; don't worry. I'll let one of my men pick you up around eight, okay?" Asami turned around before Takaba could ask further questions and walked over to his car without a backwards glance, all the while repeating one sentence in his head: The first step is done.

chapter 4

my diploma!!!

2007-02-23T12:33:01Z

I just got notified that my diploma certificate is completed! I'm now officially a graduated biologist!! My grade could have been better, but considering I didn't get along with my tutor at all, I'm just glad that everything worked out...
*is terribly happy right now*

VF-Fic: Taking a Risk - Part 2

2007-02-21T23:39:10Z

Title: Taking a Risk – Part 2
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Viewfinder'-series by Yamane Ayano
Characters: Asami
Rating: PG
Warnings: none (it's not even spoilery)
Summary: This chapter is all about me not telling you what's going on ;p – but in compensation you get drunk!Asami…

Disclaimer: The entirety of the 'Viewfinder'-universe belongs to Yamane Ayano.

chapter 1

*

Then maybe you should go.

Asami recalled the instant reaction to these words: Takaba's head had whipped around and his face had clearly shown how betrayed he'd felt at this moment. He'd jumped out of the bed, shouting something about how he would go – and stay away for that matter – while he'd dressed himself as fast as humanly possible and finally had stormed out of the flat, slamming the door on his way.

Everything in this little scene had played out exactly as Asami had thought it would, but still, the sudden emptiness of the room in general and the bed in particular stung him in a very uncomfortable way. Forcing himself to ignore the strange feeling in his gut, the Yakuza let himself fall down on the bed, determined to get some sleep now and work out the details of his plan tomorrow.

*

Two hours and every imaginable sleeping position later, Asami finally capitulated. Shaking his head, he slowly got out of the bed, stretching his cramped muscles on the way and cursing heavily under his breath – losing sleep over such an emotional matter normally was not an issue for him, and to have to acknowledge a loss of control in such an obvious way left a bitter taste in his mouth. Asami wanted to get the whole thing done as fast as possible, but when he stood in the middle of the room, trying to think the details of his scheme through, he found himself reluctant to even weigh the options, let alone to actually decide on anything.

Maybe, he mused while searching for a fresh set of clothes, it would be easier to just go on as it was – the situation between him and Takaba was, after all, not unbearable; on the contrary, it had often been much worse, especially in the beginning. But he couln't suppress the thought that this would be cowardly – and if there was something Asami had never been, it was a coward. He wouldn't start being one now.

However, he decided, he was much too sober for this. But at least that was a condition easily remedied.

*

Asami was a man who held his liquor exceptionally well, but after almost the entire bottle of his best whisky even he had reached his limits. Closing his eyes against the brightness of the rising sun, he finally decided on whom to entrust with his not so little problem – an old business partner of his who owed him quite a lot of favours, several of them of a delicate nature. This way the embarassing questions would be kept to a minimum and since the man operated in a very discreet manner, it was also highly improbable that Takaba would find any connection between them.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Asami decided that half past six in the morning was an appropriate time to call in an obligation and was about to call his driver – but reconsidered the option of a personal visit after a phenomenally unsuccessful attempt at standing up, which landed him ruggedly on the ground.

"Fuck!"

Some deep breaths later Asami summoned the coordination to get on his feet and after he was reasonably sure that he'd be able to stay that way, he risked the few steps to where his cell phone lay on the ground. Once there, he forced the world to stop spinning around him and bent down, managing to retrieve the phone without keeling over.

Two calls later the upcoming proceedings were organised – some of his men were assigned to a 24/7 Takaba watch, making sure that nothing would happen to the little punk and ordered to give a detailed report twice a day. This other affair was also taken care of. And with the knowledge that everything was well on its way, Asami finally managed to get into his bed and sleep.

chapter 3

VF-Fic: Taking a Risk - Part 1

2007-02-14T08:03:20Z

Title: Taking a Risk – Part 1
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Viewfinder'-series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: vague spoilers for the entire series
Summary: Asami doesn't like the status quo and is determined to change it

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and that's good, because I cannot draw ;)

A/N: Takes place some weeks after Asami and Takaba come back to Japan

*

When he came back from the shower, Asami hesitated in front of his bedroom, softly touching the closed door with his fingertips. It was a way of stalling, Asami knew; and although there was nobody here to see his display of weakness, knowing he had shown it at all, made him angry. And even more insecure, but he was determined to ignore that.

Steeling himself, he opened the door – and let out a quiet sigh when he saw Takaba still lying there, curled up on the big bed and obviously sleeping. Trying not to make a noise, Asami stepped closer to the young man and reached out to softly stroke over his hair. As this didn't rouse his lover, he carefully sat down next to him on the bed and enjoyed the rare opportunity to just look at Takaba without him getting defensive or even outright angry; he'd fully expected to have to sleep alone tonight, as Takaba had the unnerving habit of vanishing out of his direct reach as fast as possible – and Asami's shower certainly had given him every chance to bolt. But this time he hadn’t, and right now he seemed content to just lie there and sleep, looking utterly adorable in his relaxed and peaceful pose.

Asami allowed himself a quiet smile and, feeling like an adventurer, placed his splayed-out hand possessively on the middle of Takaba’s back, pressing his fingers lightly into the palpable ribs and tracing irregular patterns with his thumb.

Takaba shifted at that, inching closer and lifting his head slowly while his eyes were still mostly closed. “Mmmh… Asami,” he slurred. “What’re you doing? You can’t be up for another round yet…”

“Is that supposed to be a challenge?” Asami replied in a low and rough voice. Truth be told, he hadn’t planned on fucking Takaba again right now, and he felt an uncomfortable twitch at the automatic conclusion his young lover had drawn.

“No! I just… I’m exhausted. And definitely not up for… whatever. I’m just tired…”

“Well, then I guess I’ve got nothing to prove. Go back to sleep, Akihito. I’ll just be here.”

“Doing what?”

“Molesting you while you are helpless, what else?” Asami teased.

“Mmmh… okay.” Takaba yawned widely and rested his head on Asami’s thigh, closing his eyes while he made himself comfortable there.

“You look like an overgrown kitten, all sleepy and curled up in my lap like that.”

Takaba answered by biting none too gently into Asami’s leg, right above the knee, leaving behind a clear red mark.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Marking my territory. And be glad I’m not doing it like a real cat would…”

“Yes, that would be definitely… disturbing. And of course I’m glad you’re not a cat – but I’m also glad you’re not Pavlov’s dog,” Asami said in a light tone, belied by the tense expression of his face. “I’m just generally glad you’re back,” he finished as quietly as possible, afraid to have crossed a dangerous border. They hadn’t spoken of Takaba’s time in China since their return nearly two months ago, carefully pretending that there was nothing wrong.

“Yes, me too,” Takaba whispered against Asami's thigh. "At first I didn't like being treated like a piece of meat and then I liked responding to a rapist even less. But I guess that's to be expe…"

"Stop that!" Asami interrupted him sharply. "You can't compare… It's not… I'm not…"

Takaba didn't answer the unspoken plea but curled himself even farther into a ball, looking away.

"I see," Asami finally pressed out, letting his hand fall from where it had laid on the other man's arm and exhaling deeply. "Then why are you still here? As far as I can see you're not bound to the bed."

"I… I just wanted to stay. I don't really know why."

Asami didn't like that answer, but he sensed that he wouldn't get a better one right now. He was about to reach for a blanket to tuck them both in, when a sudden idea popped into his mind. And since he'd rarely been let down by his instincts, he didn't hesitate to follow through with it. Schooling his features into an indifferent expression, he quietly said: "Then maybe you should go."

chapter 2

Arrgh!!

2007-02-10T02:32:57Z

Okay, I need a new habitation, like right now, because my landlord has officially waved good-bye to sanity. I just went to the kitchen to find a sheet of paper that says he is surprised to have to repeatedly tell me that I should leave the kitchen like I've found it (And that I shouldn't have put the spaghetti into the biological waste, but I won't even acknowledge that absurdity...) - well, you would think I'd left a right mess there, wouldn't you? Umm, no, actually there was a chopping board and a knife, that's all. And I fully intended to wash them before going to bed, I just wanted to eat first, so that I could wash my plate together with the two other things...
What does one do with such people??

RL: new job

2007-01-18T19:28:16Z

So, a friend of mine found me an open position as an assistant of an estate agent in Berlin some weeks ago, I applied for it and got hired. We agreed that I should start work at January 15th. I've found a room in Charlottenburg, only two stops from my working place, and moved in last Saturday. Monday, I went to work. Punctually. And then I waited one and a half hour for my boss - who was very surprised to see me, because he'd decided that I should begin my work at February, 1st. And hadn't told me about it...
Well, at least he managed to finally sign my contract; and I get paid quite well - especially considering I've never done anything like office work before.

ninnive @ 2007-01-01T14:58:00

2007-01-01T14:00:56Z

Prost Neujahr!

Family issues

2006-12-23T19:44:10Z

This Christmas is going to be bad. My little sister moved out (and in with her father) some days ago because of a more than silly fight with our mother and now she won't be here over the holidays (or at all as long as my mother is at home) and the Big- Fight- Over- Who- Has- To- Pay- How- Much- Alimony broke out...

VF-Fic: Beginning

2006-12-15T21:58:25Z

Title: Beginning (continuation of Ending)
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: pretty much G
Warnings: spoilers up to NT7
Summary: last chapter...

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Asami doesn't belong to me *hands him back to ~~Takaba~~ Yamane Ayano*

*

Since it seemed that every single criminal in this part of the world knew exactly where he lived, Takaba was utterly unwilling to return to his flat. So, after some quick phone calls, he quartered himself at Takato's who had a spare room and only one condition before he agreed to accomodate his friend: That Takaba finally told him the whole story of what had happened since the photographer had begun to vanish on a semi-regular basis.

And so Takaba did. After a huge dinner (and several glasses of cheap wine) he began to talk; slowly at first, because he wasn't used to having to find words for his situation, but once he'd stumbled through the beginning, the rest poured out of him like water breaking through ice. When he was finished, having bared his heart (and not a few of the sexual details), Takaba didn't dare to look up into his friend's face, afraid to find disapproval or even disgust there but still feeling somehow relieved that he'd finally had an opportunity to talk some things off his chest.

"So, uhm, is it over now? For good?" Takato asked after a long pause, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had crept between them.

"I hope so," Takaba replied tentatively. "I mean… I can't… I just hope so."

"Really? I mean, it's okay if you…"

"No. He doesn't… he's not good for me. Every time I meet him, he comes closer to breaking me apart. And I don't trust him to put me back together."

"Oh. Okay. But… you're still…?" Takato didn’t finish the question, opting instead for gesticulating wildly, while a flush spread all over his face.

"Yeah. I'm still gay."

"Okay. No problem. I mean, it takes a bit getting used to, but I guess I can see the advantages…"

"Advantages?"

"Well, all the more girls for me…"

*

It was nearly two weeks before Takaba found a new flat. Luckily he'd been able to secure himself some commissions in the meantime, so he hadn't to ask his parents to loan him money for the deposit. But still, the moving was very unhealthy for his finances and he was glad that Kou and Takato had offered to help him with the transport of his things.

After they were finished dragging everything from his old flat to the new one, the three of them were too tired to celebrate properly, so Takaba said goodbye to his friends and fell into the new bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.

*

The next day Takaba slept in. It was nearly noon when he finally got out of bed and fixed himself something to eat. Afterwards he unpacked his cameras and the rest of the equipment, but stopped when it came to the boxes with the clothing and his personal things. He just wasn't in the mood to be inside right now. Deciding to take a walk around his new neighbourhood, Takaba went out of the flat and, out of habit, looked into his mailbox, not really expecting anything to be there since he'd kept fairly quiet about his new whereabouts. The envelope he found was made of thick, heavy paper and had neither a stamp nor an adress on it. Wrestling down the rising feelings of dread, Takaba opened the letter gingerly, revealing a single sheet of paper with an adress, the date of the day after tomorrow and a time on it. The back side simply said: You can come by yourself or you can be brought by my men. Your choice. No signature.

Oh shit.

*

Two days later Takaba was on his way to the mentioned adress. Simply not going or even running away would have been futile; Asami had made it clear that he could find him anywhere. And while he'd have liked to avoid the Yakuza as long as possible, some small part of Takaba longed to see Asami again.

When he arrived, the other man was already there, leaning against his car and having a phone conversation which he abruptly stopped when he became aware of Takaba's presence.

"You're late." The carefully neutral tone of voice didn't give away anything. "I was just about to send someone for you."

"About five minutes! I didn't find this place immediately. And what am I doing here anyway?" Takaba demanded to know. He was unsure what to think; he'd been curious what Asami's reaction to his dramatical declaration from the last time they'd seen each other would be, but so far the other man didn't seem to have any.

"You'll see," Asami replied curtly. He cut off the conversation by simply turning around and vanishing into the house next to him.

Takaba snorted at that, but followed nonetheless.

The place turned out to be a tattoo studio and before the young photographer could voice his protests he was alone in a room with Asami's bespectacled bodyguard and a man who seemed to work here. After merely a glance the man reached for his equipment and Takaba's right hand simultaneously. Shocked, Takaba wanted to pull away, but a warning grip on his shoulder made him change his mind.

"It's no use," his keeper said quietly. "You'll go through this – one way or another."

Takaba just nodded weakly, sat down and closed his eyes, but opening them again as soon as the tattooing needle penetrated his skin. He watched motionlessly as the image of the snake on his wrist was over-drawn with that of a leather handcuff, bearing the kanji of Asami Ryuichi's name.

*

When the tattoo was finished Takaba drew away his arm and stormed out of the room. He didn't have to search long; Asami was standing just outside the room, smoking.

At first, Takaba didn't even know what to say and when he finally tried, all that came out of his mouth was an angry cry.

"Calm down, Akihito."

"Calm down? Calm down? I don't think so!" Takaba yelled. "Why? Why did you do that?"

"You seemed to suffer from some… misconceptions and I wanted to clear them up for you."

"By marking me as your personal… whatever it is I am? You…" Takaba's voice had gone flat with anger.

"No. That wasn't what I had in mind," Asami said seriously. "I just wanted to make two things very clear. And while you have finally realized the first one, the second one seems still outside your comprehension." Reaching out for Takaba, he stretched out his arm to bridge the distance between them and skimmed tenderly over his face, wiping away the tears of frustration that the young man hadn't even noticed falling. At the soft touch, Takaba lowered his eyes. Suddenly gasping, he gripped Asami's hand tightly, pulling back the other man's sleeve and staring unbelievingly at the exposed flesh.

There around Asami's right wrist was the image of the exact same leather cuff that now adorned Takaba's hand, only the kanji on it spelled a different name: Takaba Akihito.

The End

A/N: That's it! I really hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks a lot to everyone who took the time to comment on the chapters, it is highly appreciated! For everyone who'd like to re-read the whole thing, I put all the chapters in one pdf-document and uploaded it here.

VF-Fic: Ending

2006-12-07T23:39:57Z

Title: Ending (continuation of Moving)
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Characters/Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: R
Warnings: spoilers up to NT7
Summary: All things have to end. But not here.

Disclaimer: The Viewfinder-Universe belongs to Yamane Ayano.

*

Takaba let a hot shower run over his body, trying to wash away the sleepiness clouding his mind. Among other things. He'd woken up in the early afternoon, sated, a bit sore and very sticky, with an empty feeling in his gut. Alone. Not that he'd expected Asami to still be there; he knew the man was busy with… well, whatever it was. But still. He'd have liked to talk to Asami.

At this thought Takaba grinned humourlessly. He'd already tried talking in the early morning. Well, at least he'd intended to try it, but somehow he'd got distracted… Shivering at the memory, he couldn't even manage to become angry at his own weakness. And maybe, he mused, that was a good thing. He'd already spent too much time on anger. Sighing, Takaba closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it leaned against the shower wall, baring his face and torso to the shower. Thinking about what had happened in the morning had stirred a soft tingling inside his belly and the caressing pressure of the falling water only increased the feeling until it became a wave of arousal spreading through him. Takaba let it drown him. His breath quickened rapidly as he began to touch himself, pulling at his nipples and skimming softly over the still visible bitemarks on his chest. The memory of Asami marking him that way sent a shiver through his spine as his hands found their way to his slowly hardening cock, caressing it firmly until he squirmed and panted. It didn't take long before the sharp-edged memories of being filled and taken and utterly owned by Asami sent him into a nerve-wracking climax.

When it was over, Takaba slid down the shower wall, slowly opening his eyes and feeling as if his orgasm had turned his body into lead, forcing him to surrender helplessly to gravity. He didn't feel the desperation that had consumed him when he'd first found himself wanking over the mental pictures of being dominated by Asami but knowing that his body reacted that strongly to the other man still made him uncomfortable. He might've begun to leave his path of self-delusion but facing his emotions that bluntly made him feel very vulnerable. And he didn't like that one bit.

*

Half an hour later Takaba emerged from the bathroom. Having decided that his clothes were in dire need of being cleaned, he'd only slung a towel around his waist. Which he regretted instantly as he saw who had entered the flat in the meantime.

"Well, at least this time you're not completely naked," Asami's bodyguard announced in his now familiar mocking voice. "If you keep that up I might just think you had a thing for me…"

"You wish," Takaba retorted haughtily, happily falling into the familiar banter.

"Actually, no, I don't," Sunglasses parried. "Even if I was stupid enough to challenge Asami about someone – no, scratch that. I wouldn't do that. Ever. And besides, you're lacking some rather important attributes I'm looking for in a bed partner…"

"Like a pair of breasts?" Takaba grinned.

"I was going for a working brain – but yeah, that too."

"You know what? Your jokes are really getting old. Bur so are you, after all, so I guess that's to be expected…"

"In your place, I'd be careful what I'm saying," the bodyguard replied, visibly fighting back his amusement. "Otherwise I might just let the bag with your cameras fall on the ground. Accidentally, of course."

That got Takaba's attention instantly. "You've brought my cameras? Why?"

"Well, since someone broke into your flat and left the door wide open I guessed you wouldn't want these things just lying around," the other man said, while lifting up a large box and carrying it from the door to the guest room. "I also brought your clothes, your Playstation and some other things to keep you occupied. Wouldn't want you to get bored out of your mind and lose what little sanity you've got."

Takaba didn't bother reacting to the insult, but what Sunglasses had said hit him harder than he'd've liked. "They broke into my flat – again. Who? And why?" he asked desperately. "And how long will this… this madness go on? I'm so sick of it!"

The stony look on Sunglasses' face didn't reveal anything. "I'm really not the person you should ask all that," he said after a little pause.

"But you're the only one here!"

"And I'm about to leave, too. So I'm afraid, you'll have to talk to yourself. Or maybe learn a little patience. It wouldn't hurt you."

*

Asami came back three days later.

Takaba, who'd been sitting in the living room and reading (who knew Asami had those kind of novels under his bed?), jumped up when he heard the other man enter and balled his hands to fists, fighting the temptation to just reach out and touch him.

"Asami… What happened? Where have you been? I… have been worried." That last bit was whispered very quietly, but if the grin that spread over Asami's face was anything to go by he had heard it nonetheless.

"I've settled things."

"And are you finished settling them or is this just a break before the next round?"

The grin on Asami's face vanished at that, leaving behind a guarded expression. The Yakuza stepped back and leaned against the door, carefully watching Takaba. "I've made sure that your involvement in these proceedings has ended," he said in a businesslike tone. "As long as you can restrain yourself from chasing certain people, you should be safe."

"Does this mean I can leave now?" Takaba asked, a mix of hope and fear swinging in his voice.

"You could stay a bit longer."

"I don’t want to. I've been sitting around here for far too long, doing nothing. I just want to… get away from all this. I promise, I won't try to get you into trouble again."

"Then let's at least get rid of this thing first," Asami said after a pause, staring pointedly at the snake tattooed on Takaba's wrist. "I didn't have the time to arrange something before now."

"No!" Takaba cried, protectively closing his left hand around the right one. "I'll just pack my things and go. There's no need to…"

"You want to keep the tattoo?" Asami asked incredulously.

"What I want is to never have gotten it, but that's impossible, isn't it? I won't wish for impossible things. And I'll keep it as a reminder to think before I act. Maybe… maybe I'll learn that lesson someday," Takaba answered quietly. He turned around and went into the room he'd inhabited these past days. Packing all his things into the box, in which the bodyguard had brought them, took only a few minutes.

Asami had poured himself a drink in the meantime and watched Takaba preparing to leave. "You think you're leaving for good."

"Yes."

"You should've learned better by now. Just because I'll let you go now, doesn't mean I won't get you back later. You're still mine."

Hearing that, the young photographer whirled around, face pale and hands shaking with fury. "Yes! Yes, I am yours! My body, my heart – and maybe even my soul, who knows? But that doesn't mean I won't fight that fact with teeth and nails until I've found a way around it!"

"Why? Why are you so stubborn about this?"

"Because while I'm yours, you're not mine in return!" And with that, Takaba left, closing the door softly behind him.

go to the last chapter: Beginning

Gargoyles!

2006-08-07T18:34:47Z

A friend of mine gave me the whole Gargoyle-series yesterday! *squees*
One of my favourite cartoons ever - it has to share the top rank only with 'Count Duckula' :)
*goes to watch*

VF-Fic: Moving

2006-08-07T01:01:29Z

Title: Moving (continuation of Having (to ask))
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spoilers up to NT7
Summary: Takaba doesn't really ask for it, but gets it anyway

Disclaimer: They all belong to Yamane-sensei and I promise to give them back.

*

Staring after Asami, Takaba didn't move one step. He felt weak in the knees and the words If you want something, you'll have to ask for it kept repeating themselves inside his head, mocking him with the knowledge that this was exactly what he couldn't do, because he didn't know what he wanted.

Of course he could make this easy for himself and say that he wanted to be let go – but while this wouldn't be a direct lie, it certainly wasn't the exact truth either. And Asami would know that and not let him get away with it. Not this time.

Sighing, Takaba went slowly back into the livingroom, flopping himself onto the sofa. He couldn't avoid the issue any longer – now, where to begin the soulsearching?

*

Hours later, the sun rose hidden behind a veil of clouds, giving the new day a broody atmosphere that matched Asami's mood when he woke up. He put on his clothes and forcefully opened the door of his guest bedroom. Empty. Hurriedly Asami looked through the rest of the flat, finally finding Takaba in the livingroom, standing stockstill and looking out of one of the huge windows.

"It's early for you to be up yet."

"I'm not up yet but still," Takaba replied merrily while turning around.

Growling, Asami advanced on the younger man, stopping just in front of him. "Well, what kept you awake all night then? Whatever it was, I could have done the same in a much more… satisfactory way…"

"Maybe," Takaba said, blushing. "But you told me to ask for what I wanted. And since I didn't know what that was, I tried to figure it out first."

Asami's face still held a hard expression, but when he spoke his voice had softened noticeably: "And to which conclusion did you come?"

"Several. And I don't particularly like most of them."

"That's not an answer!"

"What would you rather hear then? 'Fuck me, Asami, please!' maybe?"

Asami didn't answer that. At least not in words. Instead he spun Takaba around and crashed their mouths together, kissing the younger man furiously. He didn't meet any resistance. Takaba let himself be directed into the bedroom and pushed onto the bed before he even attempted a defence.

"Wait, Asami! I didn't…"

"Shh…" Asami whispered into Takaba's mouth, catching the arms the other had pressed against his chest in one hand and pinning them down above his head. "Couldn't you give into me, Akihito? Just this once, without a fight…"

It was Takaba's turn not to answer. He just closed his eyes and arched his body against Asami, wrapping one leg around the other man's waist. Asami didn't lose any time, reclaiming Takaba's mouth and taking off his clothes until the younger man lay naked, flushed and panting beneath him.
"I'm going to make you forget everything," he said fiercely while he undressed himself. "You're going to scream my name before this is over." Takaba moaned at that declaration, reaching for Asami who grabbed his neck and pulled him closer for another passionate kiss. When they were both out of breath Asami began licking down Takaba's chest, biting and sucking none too gently after every swipe of tongue until his torso was covered in red marks. Takaba's breath came in loud gasps when Asami finally reached his hips and stopped his actions there abruptly, teasing him by letting his mouth hover just above Takaba's swollen cock. "What do you want, Akihito? Tell me."

"I want… want you to do what a lover should…"

"Cheeky brat!" Asami growled, not being able to mask the laughter in his voice completely. And then he swallowed Takaba's cock halfway down, making the other whimper and buck his hips, trying to get more of himself into that wet warmth. He alternated working the head with his tongue and sucking vigorously until Takaba was about to explode and then lifted his mouth just before he could do so.

A predatory grin on his face, Asami slid upwards until his mouth came back in contact with Takaba's who kissed him back hungrily, roaming his hands over Asami's body and whimpering at the taste of his own precome on the other man's tongue. The whimpering became a sharp cry when Asami suddenly pushed two slicked fingers into his arse, twisting and spreading them in a way that left him gagging for more. "Asami… Asami…" Although he managed to restrain himself from outright begging (barely, but still…), the pleading tone of his voice was apparently submission enough for the Yakuza, because the next thing he felt was the sharp burn of Asami's cock entering him, pushing aside every rational thought and leaving only waves of fiery sensation that spread through his body.

Asami's initially slow pace soon morphed into an urgent thrusting that caused Takaba to bury his fingernails into Asami's sweat-slick shoulders and cry out while he squirmed beneath him, trying to rub his cock against the other's stomach just a little bit harder… But it wasn't quite enough and he finally broke down. "Please, Asami… Just touch me, please!" He nearly sobbed when he finally felt a hand wrapping around his cock, stroking him roughly until he felt his climax washing through him, leaving him shivering and weak and dazed, only dimly aware of Asami coming inside of him.

He did, however, clearly feel the other man pulling out of his body and winced a bit at the sensation. It was uncomfortable, but not enough so that it could divert him from his way to sleep. Takaba managed to curl himself into a ball, wrap the blanket around himself and mumble "Good night." before his eyes finally fell shut. It had been a hard day.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Asami looked serenely at his lover for a long time before he got up to begin the day's work.

next chapter: Ending

VF-Fic: Having (to ask)

2006-07-22T16:11:40Z

Title: Having (to ask) (continuation of Wondering)
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Characters: Takaba, Asami, Sunglasses
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers up to NT7
Summary: Asami comes back

Disclaimer: They all belong to Yamane-sensei and I promise to give them back.

*

Takaba was bored. Cracking jokes about Asami had been fun but he didn't dare pushing this topic with the unexpectedly peaceful bodyguard. Who knew which comment would send the man back into deep-frosted sarcasm mode? Not that Takaba didn't enjoy a good verbal sparring now and then, but the other had proven more than once that he was a nerve-wracking enemy in that department and it wouldn't do Takaba any good to let himself get riled up. Thad had after all led to his current company in the first place. And he really didn't want to think about his previous mistakes now! Sulking around would only bring him down and that'd be an unfavourable mental position to be in when Asami came back. No, what he needed was something distracting, something to prevent him from brooding. And Sunglasses' choice of television program was definitely no help in that matter…

"Well, after discovering your cooking skills I really thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore, but - animes? And ones for little girls at that! I don’t believe it," Takaba said mockingly.

"Just thought I'd indulge the intelligence level of my present company," replied the bodyguard, without missing a beat.

"Hey! Just because I'm not some embittered old Yakuza doesn’t mean I'm not interested in serious things! You lot tend to forget that I'm an adult and quite capable of behaving like one! I…"

"Watch the claws, kitty! I was only joking, there's no need for a discussion of principles. If you want to watch something else you could have just asked. Here." With that the other man handed the remote control to Takaba who took it gingerly and began zapping through the channels.

Some minutes later he had to admit that there was nothing of special interest on the tv and he settled for a news channel airing a report on last year's climate statistics.

Takaba wasn't prepared for the snarled "I don't think so!" with which Sunglasses suddenly grabbed the remote control and switched off the tv altogether. The voice of the bodyguard had taken on a steely edge and every trace of mockery had left his face, leaving a carefully neutral mask in place.

Bewildered, Takaba leaned back and shrugged.

"Fine, be creepy," he said defiantly. "But how about being creepy in an entertaining way? I'm bored - and since you insist on being my nanny you could at least do something about that." The last was muttered in a challenging way, daring the other to pick a fight.

But Sunglasses refused to take the bait. Grinning, he said: "Ok. I think I might just know what to do with you…"

*

When Asami came finally home that evening it was to the sight of his own bodyguard attacking Takaba and slamming him against a wall.

Without hesitation Asami stormed into the scene, pushed Sunglasses to the ground and positioned himself in front of Takaba; all with the speed and ferocity of a wild cat.

The stunned bodyguard stood up slowly, rubbing his neck with one hand and holding the other out in a gesture of appeasement. But before he had the chance to say something, Takaba had already grabbed the back of Asami's jacket, turned the man around and cried: "No! Asami, stop that! It's not… It's not what it looks like! He was just practicing self-defence with me. See? Nothing to get angry about."

Asami's eyebrows arched up, but the feral glint in his eyes had subsided. "Self-defence?"

"Well, I thought it a good idea since he gets in trouble all the time. It'd certainly make our jobs easier if he could at least stand his own against simple street robbers," the bodyguard explained, glad that Asami seemed to have regained his usual calmness.

"Ok, I see the point. Good thinking. And… sorry about that. Are you okay?"

"Sure. It needs a bit more than a punch of you to cause me any lasting damage," Sunglasses smirked.

"I should hope so. Otherwise there wouldn't be any need to employ you, would there? That's all for today. Tomorrow everything goes as planned, so you can go now."

The other man nodded, picked up his things and left the flat. When he was gone, Asami finally leaned towards Takaba and grinned. "Well, I'm glad you two didn't kill each other. That really would have been a shame." Lowering his head a bit, he brought his lips almost-but-not-quite in contact with Takaba's and smiled when the younger man began shivering in anticipation.

"It has been a long day; I think I'll go to bed now," Asami continued in a low voice, pushing his groin forwards until it came into contact with Takaba, who gasped at the feeling of the hardening cock pressed to his stomach and closed his eyes, sending a wordless invitation.

"No, I've no intention of making it that easy for you." Asami's voice hadn't lost its almost purring quality but the audible determination in it caused Takaba to open his eyes again and look astonished at the other man, who'd inched away a bit. "If you want something, Akihito, you'll have to ask for it." And with that Asami turned around and walked into his bedroom, leaving the door open.

next chapter: Moving

VF-Fic: Wondering

2006-07-02T17:38:34Z

Title: Wondering (continuation of Touching)
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Characters: Takaba, Sunglasses
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers up to NT7
Summary: A rather domestic scene

Disclaimer: They all belong to Yamane-sensei and I promise to give them back.

*

After Asami had left the flat Takaba just stood there in the bedroom door, shaking violently. He could still feel the places where the other man had touched him, forming a tingling pattern on his face. After several minutes the rising queasiness in his stomach finally managed to break him out of his stupor and he hurried into the bathroom, splashing some cold water over his face and neck. It helped against the urge to puke his guts out and cleared his head a bit.

Drawing deep breaths Takaba looked up into the mirror above the sink and stared at his reflection, disbelief and distress plainly visible in his eyes. This had definitely not been what he'd expected. He'd tried to steel himself for a furious Asami and had anticipated a bout of angry sex or maybe physical violence, but he wasn't ready to be caged-in. Not again. Why had the Yakuza situated him in his own flat and then attempted to ignore him? And when Takaba had caught his attention, the other had acted downright gentle, trying to calm the young man down. Where had his anger about Takaba's 'betrayal' gone? And what would he do with him now?

Takaba's head buzzed with unspoken questions and fears. Dammit, he was too tired to think properly! Not that the thinking you've done while wide awake has been very useful mocked his inner voice, sounding disturbingly like Asami's bespectacled bodyguard. Takaba snorted. "The guy isn't even here and bothering me nonetheless…" Shrugging he went to find the guest bedroom Asami had mentioned earlier. There he undressed, leaving his clothes in a messy heap on the ground, and fell into sleep instantly after he'd crawled under the covers of the bed.

*

Some hours later the sounds of a clapping door had Takaba abruptly awake. Asami was back! In a hurry he got out of the bed and stormed into the living room, not bothering to put on any clothes. Which he regretted as soon as he saw the man who'd entered the flat and was about to unpack a bag of groceries. That definitely was not Asami…

"Uhm… I'm… I'm going to get dressed…" Takaba mumbled, blushing, and fled back into the bedroom; and for once 'Sunglasses' didn't have a sarcastic remark. It seemed that the young photographer had finally found a way to shock the stoic bodyguard into silence.

*

When Takaba re-emerged from the bedroom, still beet-red, the other man had busied himself in the kitchen, slicing meat and vegetables.

"What are you doing here?" Takaba blurted out.

"Cooking."

"I can see that! …and that wasn't what I meant. And why are you cooking? You don't particularly strike me as the housewife-type!"

"Well, you don't seem like an exhibitionist either, so I guess we're even."

"What?! I'm not an ex…"

"Anyway," the bodyguard interrupted before Takaba could go into full rant-mode, "Asami sent me to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Again. I don't know what I did to make him hate me… Or maybe he just thinks it's funny to make me suffer like that. Either way, you're stuck with me at the moment. Deal with it."

"I guess I'll survive," Takaba declared, sighing theatrically. "Need any help with this?"

Obviously surprised, 'Sunglasses' turned around at that. "You could prepare the rice if you like. I guess you can't bollocks that up too badly…"

*

After cooking and eating in relative peace (and Takaba had managed the rice just fine, thank you very much) the two men settled in front of the TV, zapping lazily through the programs. But when it became clear that the bodyguard didn’t intend to start any kind of conversation, Takaba finally disrupted the almost comfortable silence: "Do you know when Asami will be back?"

"No. But I guess it won't be anytime soon; otherwise there would be no need for me to play babysitter, wouldn't it."

"Great. And in the meantime we're playing couch-potatoes."

"Believe me, it isn't my idea of a good time either. But I really don’t see how it'd be better if the Boss was here. I mean, there's only so much sex you can have."

Takaba blushed at that, but retorted anyway: "Yeah, I guess even Asami's stamina have their limits…"

"I wouldn't say that into his face."

"I didn’t plan to."

next chapter: Having (to ask)

VF-Fic: Touching

2006-05-26T15:31:23Z

Title: Touching (continuation of Making (a fool of oneself))
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Characters: Takaba, Asami
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers up to NT7
Summary: What will Asami do with Takaba?

Disclaimer: It's not mine, don't sue me.

*

Takaba tried not to squirm beneath Asami's staring eyes, but couldn't quite suppress it. For the first time he was totally aware of the fact, that the other man posed an actual threat to him, that he was dangerous.

"So you really decided to try to take me on on your own." Asami's voice clearly aimed for indifference, but didn't quite achieve it. Underneath the icy surface vibrated rage and anger and something that might have been hurt, sending goosebumps all over Takaba's skin and making him shiver in fear.

"I… I just tried… Dammit, Asami, you deserve…" Takaba was forcefully interrupted when the Yakuza slapped him hard in the face and then grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled him forward until their foreheads and noses were touching.

"What I deserve is probably an eternity in Hell, but I'm not ready to settle for that; I'll take what I want, not what I deserve. And you better be grateful that you don't get what you deserve!"

"And what would that be, I wonder?"

The expression in Asami's face turned feral, before he closed his eyes and slid his mouth along Takaba's left cheek, stopping at the young man's ear. "Believe me, you don't want to know," he whispered. "You don't want to know what I think suitable punishment for someone who betrayed me." He pushed Takaba back to the two bodyguards. "Get him out of here; I have a meeting to attend."

*

They'd pushed him into the backseat of a black limousine and driven him to Asami's flat where they'd just dumped him on the sofa and left, locking the door behind them, leaving Takaba alone and confused and more than a little frightened.

Why does it always have to end like this? the young man thought bitterly. Me being dragged around and then left alone to await whatever others have decided for me, without being able to influence anything.

Is that so? a mocking voice inside his head answered the unspoken complaint. I seem to remember you influencing this latest episode quite a bit…

"Isn't it great? Now I'm already arguing with myself," Takaba muttered, closing his eyes before he crossed his arms over his dragged-up knees and rested his head atop them.

*

Three hours later the young man was startled from an uneasy sleep by the sound of the opening door. Startled, he watched Asami coming in, taking off his shoes and jacket and getting himself a glass of some expensive-looking alcohol without so much as glancing at his 'guest' who sat hunched on the sofa.

When the Yakuza went to leave the living room, still not acknowledging that he wasn't alone, Takaba didn't bear the tension any longer. He stood up and followed Asami in the bedroom where the other man began to unbutton his shirt.

"Asami!"

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? Since when would you care about that? You've brought me here."

"So I have. And you'll stay here until I say otherwise."

"What?! You can't lock me in here! I don't…" Takaba's voice broke. "Please, don't do that to me…"

This got Asami to turn around. He took Takaba's face into his hands and traced his cheeks slowly in an irregular pattern.

"Well, I've tried to go another way about this, Akihito, but you didn't seem to like the alternative very much. You'll have to live with your choice for now. I promise it won't be too long and my men will get some of your things out of your flat, so you don't have to wear my clothes. They wouldn't fit you."

Asami's voice had taken on an ironic tone and Takaba, not able to fight the impression that the other wasn't talking about clothes at all, opened his eyes (he wasn't sure at which point he'd closed them). He wanted to say something, but didn't quite know what and ended up staring questioningly at Asami, who just smirked and pressed a thumb into Takaba's mouth to trace the line of his teeth.

"I have to go and deal with some important things; I won't be back today. There's another bedroom right next to this one, you can make yourself comfortable there." And with that Asami stepped back from Takaba, put on a new shirt and left the flat.

next chapter: Wondering

RL: random fact about me

2006-05-06T01:18:00Z

I really, really hate spiders. Since I can think I've always been disgusted by them, especially the way they move. Who the hell needs eight legs?!
So I participated in a psychological study some semesters ago. Arachnophobics and 'normal' people were put into a magnetic resonance imaging device where pictures of spiders and mushrooms were shown to them (and videos of a moving spider and a rolling button and similar things). And all the while you had to lie perfectly still and your brain was scanned by that mri-device so the psychologists could see which brain areas of arachnophobics work differently when they see a spider.
I've never seen the results of it, but after the scans we could participate in a two-day therapy against arachnophobia. Which I did.
If anybody had told me that I would ever hold a bird spider in my hand, I'd declared them mental. But I have. And I'm even able now to catch these disgusting black spiders that crawl around in the house in summer (with the help of a glass and a postcard or something similar). Before, I wasn't even able to go near them with a vacuum cleaner.
So, yay me!
;)