[fic] Balloons 10
Oct. 20th, 2010 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keTitle: Balloons
Rating: none
Pairings: 39, past Sanzo/Koumyou
Genre: AU WAFF
Wordcount: 50k, total.
Warnings: Koumyou is dead. Also, before the pairings squick you out, for the purposes of this fic Koumyou was never Sanzo's father figure. Might contain wacky adventures.
Summary: Sanzo hates the park, Hakkai, Gojyo, people and the world. He likes his OCD and his job as a professional Internet troll. He likes his unapologetic, rampant atheism. The universe sets out to prove him wrong.
Author's Note: Very loosely based on the (awesome and amazing) movie Up! This is actually a “light” version of the bunny – the original explored the pitfalls of reincarnation and crushed your soul.
The story is finished and will be posted whole over the next three weeks, maybe a little more (there is sixteen chapters, total). Doing it like this, because a/ I need a pick-me-up right now, and b/ have internet issues, posting the whole thing in one go would be a pain, c/ I figure this will make reading easier for you. So, enjoy!
Betaed bykispexi2, who graciously stepped in to help. <3 Thank you, hun!
It took minimal care to wander back to the ballroom undetected. There was the occasional soldier wandering the halls, but no one bothered the two of them.
“Wait,” Hakkai said as they passed a room whose door screamed “office”. Sanzo looked around, but for the moment they were alone in the corridor, so no one saw them go in.
The interior was like the worst nightmare of an office clerk. The concrete walls were bare, the furniture made of metal and the chair gave you backache just by standing there, ready to take your weight off your feet and put it in your loins. “Any reason we’re still in here?”
“There’s no computer.”
“I can see that,” Sanzo groused, but he his attention had already been diverted by the bookcases. Near to the floor there was a metal box, such as one would use to hide precious papers, or money. “Do you see a key?”
A moment’s search had Hakkai procuring a tiny key that fit the case. Inside, Sanzo found four passports.
“We really need to get out of here,” he said, shutting the lid on the unease that also emanated from the box. Where had the passports come from? He was certain his was in the moderate safety of a kitchen cabinet, back home. How had it got here?
No time for such concerns, he told himself sternly. The party’s progression meant that inevitably people would choose to wander the luscious halls, some in search of a secluded spots for poorly-lit sex, others for conversation that the loud music made impossible.
“How do you plan to get Goku out of there?” Sanzo asked, side-stepping around a humongous Marie-Antoinette figure. A double-take in the middle of the manoeuvre sent him careening into Hakkai.
The guy certainly made the corset work, Sanzo thought, with a pang of what could have been envy, if only because at one point in his life he felt that he ought to have been born a girl. Fortunately, then he had come to the revolutionary conclusion that binaries only really worked in mathematics.
“I have no idea.”
“You have no idea.”
“What were you expecting? Our best bet is to sneak in there, talk to him, and leave, undetected.”
“Which is going to be so easy in a crowd.”
“Which is going to be a piece of fluffy meringue pie in a crowd of drunken, dancing, costumed people.” Hakkai offered a smile that bordered on the psychopathic. “Ask him to dance.”
“No.”
“Fine, we’ll have Gojyo dance with him.”
“No!”
“Desperation is unbecoming.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The possessive act is going to get you nowhere with Goku. Hitting over the head and dragging them to your cave went out of fashion some ten thousand years ago, and is frowned upon nowadays. Give the boy some space to breathe.”
“So says the man who’s got a campaign underway.”
“Ah, that’s different. Gojyo has been introduced to the dangers of smoking, understands the medical issues, up to and including impotence and has expressed tentative interest in quitting. I merely elaborated.” Hakkai shrugged elegantly, awarding Sanzo yet another of his famous half-smiles. Why on Earth no one had put forth the idea that this grin would best suit a lawyer was beyond Sanzo.
“Funny how often a hostile takeover starts like that,” he said noncommittally. Hakkai seemed happy in his chosen profession, and Sanzo was able to sleep at night, content in the knowledge that no child of his would ever be moulded in that man’s image. He sometimes wondered how the parents of Hakkai’s pupils slept, though of course the obvious answer was they didn’t and it was the sleep deprivation that motivated the decision to entrust their spawn to Satan’s care.
Sanzo cared deeply for Hakkai. He truly did. This was not the time for such musings, however.
They stood in the shifting shadows at the entrance to the ballroom, watching the situation unfold. Goku was still on the dais, conversing with the freak. Sanzo gritted his teeth.
“There’s Gojyo,” Hakkai said, taking hold of Sanzo’s arm. Gojyo was grinding with a towering flock of feathers and sequins. There was a fluffy, lime-green boa on his neck, which made for a spectacular piece of visual foreshadowing for what Sanzo’s arm was going through.
“Hakkai?”
“Yes?”
“Desperation is unbecoming.”
“What?”
“You are cutting off my circulation.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“What was it you said about possessiveness and hitting them over the head?”
“Do shut up.”
“Oh man, you look scary!” Sanzo and Hakkai turned as one to face one of the partygoers, a kid, who was staring at Hakkai with awe. There was a joint in the corner of his mouth, and the kid’s breath dispersed the smoke right into Sanzo’s face. “Great job!”
To Sanzo’s horror, Hakkai responded by revealing a hint of fang in a shadowed smile that sent the kid, squealing in delight, back into the crowd.
“We better move, unless we want an audience.” Hakkai smiled again, thankfully this time without showing teeth, and nodded in the direction of the dais. “Try to leave the hall unseen.”
“Try not to leave with a corpse on your back.”
“Likewise.”
Hakkai dived into the crowd with enviable ease, leaving Sanzo mapping out people-free paths to Goku, but for one of those he’d have to fly. He took a deep breath, snapped the goggles on – there was no telling how many others had smokes to blow into his eyes – and stepped into the fray. One thing that immediately became apparent was that there were too many elbows, given the possible amount of people in the vicinity. Sanzo fought against the elbowed monster, but – and here was a revelation to note in his diary – crowds were easier to get through without the fight.
Sanzo discovered that when he took advantage of the natural undulation of the mass of people he could travel without effort in any direction, which landed him at the foot of the dais in no time at all.
It took a moment to realise that he was face to face with dog breath, and that the low growling sound was not the music. “The hell is your problem, you mutt?” Sanzo hissed, when a step back proved to be impossible. Fortunately for the unbitten state of his face, Dug suddenly changed his tune and yipped, following which Sanzo’s face got a good tonguing.
“Monkey! Put a leash on the dog!”
“Sanzo?” Goku’s head rised. He tried looking around, discovered he was still blind, then slid to the end of the settee, in Sanzo’s direction. “Is that you?”
“No, my evil twin. Let’s go, before that freak shows back here.”
“Hells yeah.” Goku reached out until his hand touched the top of Sanzo’s head, found his shoulders and walked off the dais, landing in Sanzo’s arms. “I was worried when you weren’t here. Where are Hakkai and Gojyo?”
“Around. Let’s hope the mutt doesn’t get stepped on.” Sanzo grasped Goku’s hand, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Why hello there,” said a smarmy voice and Sanzo froze. He knew that voice. Oh holy fucking hell.
“Um, I wanted to dance?”
“Interesting.” Sanzo felt the gaze travel down Goku’s arm, to Sanzo and then onto his goggles. “And who might you be, to be stealing my precious guest?”
“None of your business,” Sanzo snapped, foolishly, as he realised not a second later.
“Curious, as I am the host of this ball, and I saw to every invitation personally.” There was a merry little twinkle in his eye. Sanzo longed to punch his face in. “I don’t think I am wrong when I question your presence.”
Fuck. Sanzo considered the concrete cells, the metal toilet and the unsanitary sink. “Awesome party you throw, Homura, if your guests get ID checks all the time, by their drunk host, no less. What are you now, the party police?”
“Ah, perhaps I am a bit tipsy.” Homura took a seat on the edge of the settee, avoiding Dug, who clearly disapproved of the proximity. “I didn’t mean offence. You are stealing my precious Goku, however, and that is a little annoying.”
“Hey, hey. What’s with the name calling,” Goku said, waving his free arm around. “Look, you’re nice and all, but tone it the hell down. I’ve- well, no, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I’m not going out with you.”
“Really now, it’s not nice to crush a man’s heart so thoroughly.” Homura knelt at the edge of the dais and leaned in towards Goku, so close their noses almost touched.
Sanzo rolled his eyes. “Quit it with the guilt trips and leave the kid alone. He wants to dance. Let him dance.”
“With you.” Homura gave Sanzo a long stare, raising the soft hair at the back of his neck. “He wants to dance with you, when he wouldn’t dance with me.”
Sanzo felt a swell of pride. Fuck you, you smug motherfucker; Goku liked him better. “What, it’s my fault, all of sudden?”
“Isn’t it?”
“You know what? Fuck you,” Sanzo said, ignoring Goku’s nails, which dug into the skin of his hand. “Lay off the paranoia for ten minutes, and enjoy your own party. Someone’s got pot somewhere over in that corner.”
“Oh, I know.” Homura grinned as he surveyed his ball and Sanzo got ready to run. The moment Homura’s head was turned, he dived into the crowd, urging Goku into a run.
They were almost out of the crowd when Homura shouted and the party ground to a halt. Fortunately at that time it was easy to elbow their way out of the crowd and rush through the door. Sanzo cast one last look at the hall, at the darkened mass of costumes and gleaming fangs. Then, through the darkness and strobe lights, he heard Homura’s voice and the distant sound of alarms.
“…they are armed and dangerous. Stay where you are.”
Oh fuck, Sanzo thought, and ran. Dug cheerfully took point, barking at every corner they took. Before long they ran into Hakkai and Gojyo, who were either fucking behind a pillar, or having a very unpronounceable argument. Sanzo didn’t want to know.
“What happened?” Hakkai asked, when he deigned to notice they had company.
“Nothing.”
Above their heads, orange lamps started rotating and flashing in their casing. There was the subtle, but unmistakeable sound of an alarm being sounded throughout, belying Sanzo’s reply.
“Sanzo, I distinctly recall requesting a silent, problem-free escape.”
“I recall something being said about desperation and jealousy.”
“Oh?” Goku piped up. “What did you do?”
“Gojyo was flirting. It occurred to me our agreement wasn’t properly verbalised.” Hakkai gave Gojyo a look, which would have sent even the bravest of man cowering in fear.
“Because ‘verbalising’ is what you were doing behind the pillar.”
“Lay off, dude. Don’t hate on us for getting laid once in a while.”
“Yes, excuse me. Let’s maybe consider an escape first?” Goku waved his hand in the direction of the corridor, into which Dug’s nose was pointing.
“I’d love to,” Hakkai said. “There was the garage… Sanzo, which way was the garage?”
Sanzo bit back a snarky comment with difficulty. “It should be that way.” That way was a barren, concrete corridor, all the more eerie for its bluish light scheme. He was reasonably sure that was the way to go, but the colours of the base changed since he last walked the corridor, which seemed to have wrecked his internal compass.
They pressed on regardless, rounding every corner with care. The sounds of the party behind them had not ceased. If anything the alarms and flashing lights had extended the discotheque into the whole underground.
“Shit,” Sanzo said suddenly. “We didn’t check the exits.”
“What exits?”
“The garage. Where the hell is the exit out of the garage?”
Hakkai looked around a corner, turned back with a finger to his lips. “Patrol,” he mouthed. The foursome froze, their backs plastered against the wall. Sanzo tried to recall the flooring plan, how far they’d gone, how far they had yet to go and what were the odds Homura was behind the corner and would stand still long enough for Sanzo to punch him in the face.
No sooner had the echo of the heavy boots quieted, when Hakkai motioned them to move forward, and Dug let out a sharp bark. Sanzo turned in time to see a heavy shoe fly towards his face. Years of sitting in front of a computer dulled his reflexes so that he barely managed to let out an undignified yelp, before the shoe changed course and, in a graceful arch, hit the floor.
“What?” Sanzo managed, when the owner of the shoe groaned, and Goku delivered a harsh slap to the face of another soldier, elbowed her in the gut, grabbed her arm and effortlessly sent her flying into a wall. When he straightened there was a gun in his hand, pointed at the far wall.
“Um. Sorry?” he said, dropping the gun and wiping his hands on his trousers. Dug lolled out his tongue and sniffed at the groaning duo on the floor. “Are they okay?”
“They have goons to look out for them. Let’s move it.” Gojyo grabbed Goku by the arm and herded him into the empty corridor. Hakkai followed, dragging Sanzo behind. “What was that, by the way?”
“What was what?”
Gojyo, by way of answering, snapped his fingers in front of Goku’s face. “This. Are you blind or what?”
“No, I walk into walls for fun.”
“So what gives?”
“I dunno. Koumyou said that there’s nothing wrong with my eyes, just the brain tissue, and brain is fuzzy, so that sometimes I can see stuff without actually seeing stuff.”
Sanzo started, but just then they reached a turn, and he had to focus on the way.
“That makes so much sense. While we’re at it, do you have wisdom to impart on the subject of economy?” Gojyo said, clearly not caring for logical progression.
“’s got money in it?”
“It’s a wonder no one’s made you a professor yet.” Gojyo gave the left turn a cursory glance. Finding it empty, he continued with the conversation, unperturbed by the overall situation. “So we covered the part in which you kick arse, how about the part where you kick arse?”
“Karate?”
“You did karate? They’ve got a blind fury division?”
“Stupid cockroach. What, making fun of me is your way of getting over being gay?”
“Okay, who the hell said I’m gay?” Gojyo paused in the middle of the corridor, waving his arms. “That’s a filthy lie.”
“Remind me to get you a t-shirt,” Hakkai looked around the next corner, found it safe, and urged the lot of them forward. “It will look particularly flattering when you’re blowing me. I might even take pictures, frame them and send them out as Christmas cards.”
“Don we now our gay apparel,” Goku and Gojyo intoned in perfect synch, with Dug providing background vocals.
“How is that no one has arrested the two of you yet?” Sanzo elbowed his way to the front of the group and smouldered with anger until they reached the garage door. It wasn’t closed. Sanzo was insulted.
“That’s a lucky coincidence.” Hakkai said, casting a longing glance at the Aston Martin.
“I’m starting to suspect stupidity at work.”
“Considering your track record, this is a huge improvement. I couldn’t be more proud.” Hakkai dared to pat Sanzo’s shoulder as they piled into the Jeep. He snapped his seatbelt on just as the door flew open and the soldiers started rushing into the garage, prompting Hakkai to floor the gas pedal and – with a squeal of the tyre loud enough to make Hollywood as a whole take notes – spring out of the parking space in the direction suggested by the arrows.
Sanzo wasn’t sure whether to chalk this up to rampant stupidity or just compliance with the fire code, but within the minute they were rolling out of the concreted base and into the starlit night.
“Wow. That was easy.” Gojyo stretched in the back seat. Dug, who had made himself comfortable between Gojyo and Goku, raised his head to bark his agreement, then curled on the seat again.
“Where are we going now?” Goku asked.
“Good question.” The dirt road ended abruptly, the stones and sand giving way to an even surface of asphalt. Hakkai, without giving it much thought, rolled onto it, braked like crazy to avoid a collision with a minivan, then claimed the middle lane and floored it.
“I am never getting in the same car as you again. Remind me why is he driving again?” Sanzo turned to Gojyo, who was holding on to his seat with one hand, holding Dug in place with the other.
“Because I’ve never driven outside the UK and you haven’t driven ever.”
“I’ve driven bumper cars. That would do.”
“It wouldn’t,” Hakkai said, overtaking a lorry and causing a few heart attacks, because the midline of the road got straddled in the process, to say the least.
“Wait, Sanzo. You drove bumper cars?” Sanzo heard the seatbelt unroll, the only cue before Goku’s warm breath tickled his ear. “You went to a carnival and drove bumper cars?”
“In my defence, I was ten.”
“Man, I’d totally go! I figure if I act normal and it’s not a busy day, I could have a go. I had my licence revoked.”
“Whoever decided on this glaring injustice?” Gojyo said, shoving Goku back into his seat as Hakkai started on another series of death-defying manoeuvres. Overhead, a sign pointed right, though to what exactly it was hard to tell. Hakkai swerved again, prompting a loud protest from his passengers.
“It’s an airport!” he yelled when the trees surrounding the road thinned, revealing a steel structure in the distance.
“Finally, some civilisation,” Gojyo muttered. “Though I’ll give them that: the views are spectacular.”
Sanzo agreed privately. They were pretty high on a mountain, overlooking the expanse of the plains with few villages scattered here and past them, in the distance, the ocean.
“Uh oh,” Hakkai said all of sudden. The steering wheel jerked and they split off into a narrow road, which only deserved the name because of the tyre tracks that offered the suggestion that some others had chosen the path.
“What the fuck?” Sanzo asked, narrowly avoiding decapitation by a tree branch.
“Military outpost.”
“We want to get to the damn airport.”
“With uniformed troops following us? We’ll be lucky not to get drugs shoved into our pockets.”
“Airports would have police,” Sanzo said, even though he had to admit the idea of being detained sounded very unappealing at the moment.
“If not the airport, what?” Gojyo asked. Hakkai waited until the road was horizontal again before replying.
“There’s a marina. We can hitch a ride with someone there.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.” Sanzo heard this, and groaned. Even without looking he knew Gojyo was grinning like a lunatic. “Awesome.”
“How precisely do you plan on hitching a ride across the Atlantic?” Sanzo asked, turning to Hakkai.
“I was counting on your cooperation.”
“Am I famous for hiding kayaks in my pockets? Because this is news to me!”
“Sanzo.”
“Shut up.”
“Sanzo.”
“What?” Gojyo asked from the back seat. “He really doesn’t have a kayak in his back pocket. We’d have noticed.”
“No, but he does have an aunt, who’s cruising the marinas of Venezuela.”
“I do?” Sanzo asked stupidly, gazing out of the windscreen. Last he’d heard the annoying know-it-all woman was in the Caribbean. Of course that had been March, she would have moved on since then. “What do I look like, a family calendar?”
“What are the odds your aunt is anywhere near here?” Goku asked. This was probably a fair question. Sanzo considered. Hakkai oftentimes visited, and he wasn’t shy about answering Sanzo’s phone. It was entirely possible that the damn woman had called to check in, and Hakkai simply hadn’t relayed the message.
Or he had, and Sanzo had simply ignored it.
“We need a phone,” Sanzo said. “Now.”
TBC
Rating: none
Pairings: 39, past Sanzo/Koumyou
Genre: AU WAFF
Wordcount: 50k, total.
Warnings: Koumyou is dead. Also, before the pairings squick you out, for the purposes of this fic Koumyou was never Sanzo's father figure. Might contain wacky adventures.
Summary: Sanzo hates the park, Hakkai, Gojyo, people and the world. He likes his OCD and his job as a professional Internet troll. He likes his unapologetic, rampant atheism. The universe sets out to prove him wrong.
Author's Note: Very loosely based on the (awesome and amazing) movie Up! This is actually a “light” version of the bunny – the original explored the pitfalls of reincarnation and crushed your soul.
The story is finished and will be posted whole over the next three weeks, maybe a little more (there is sixteen chapters, total). Doing it like this, because a/ I need a pick-me-up right now, and b/ have internet issues, posting the whole thing in one go would be a pain, c/ I figure this will make reading easier for you. So, enjoy!
Betaed by
kispexi2, who graciously stepped in to help. <3 Thank you, hun!It took minimal care to wander back to the ballroom undetected. There was the occasional soldier wandering the halls, but no one bothered the two of them.
“Wait,” Hakkai said as they passed a room whose door screamed “office”. Sanzo looked around, but for the moment they were alone in the corridor, so no one saw them go in.
The interior was like the worst nightmare of an office clerk. The concrete walls were bare, the furniture made of metal and the chair gave you backache just by standing there, ready to take your weight off your feet and put it in your loins. “Any reason we’re still in here?”
“There’s no computer.”
“I can see that,” Sanzo groused, but he his attention had already been diverted by the bookcases. Near to the floor there was a metal box, such as one would use to hide precious papers, or money. “Do you see a key?”
A moment’s search had Hakkai procuring a tiny key that fit the case. Inside, Sanzo found four passports.
“We really need to get out of here,” he said, shutting the lid on the unease that also emanated from the box. Where had the passports come from? He was certain his was in the moderate safety of a kitchen cabinet, back home. How had it got here?
No time for such concerns, he told himself sternly. The party’s progression meant that inevitably people would choose to wander the luscious halls, some in search of a secluded spots for poorly-lit sex, others for conversation that the loud music made impossible.
“How do you plan to get Goku out of there?” Sanzo asked, side-stepping around a humongous Marie-Antoinette figure. A double-take in the middle of the manoeuvre sent him careening into Hakkai.
The guy certainly made the corset work, Sanzo thought, with a pang of what could have been envy, if only because at one point in his life he felt that he ought to have been born a girl. Fortunately, then he had come to the revolutionary conclusion that binaries only really worked in mathematics.
“I have no idea.”
“You have no idea.”
“What were you expecting? Our best bet is to sneak in there, talk to him, and leave, undetected.”
“Which is going to be so easy in a crowd.”
“Which is going to be a piece of fluffy meringue pie in a crowd of drunken, dancing, costumed people.” Hakkai offered a smile that bordered on the psychopathic. “Ask him to dance.”
“No.”
“Fine, we’ll have Gojyo dance with him.”
“No!”
“Desperation is unbecoming.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The possessive act is going to get you nowhere with Goku. Hitting over the head and dragging them to your cave went out of fashion some ten thousand years ago, and is frowned upon nowadays. Give the boy some space to breathe.”
“So says the man who’s got a campaign underway.”
“Ah, that’s different. Gojyo has been introduced to the dangers of smoking, understands the medical issues, up to and including impotence and has expressed tentative interest in quitting. I merely elaborated.” Hakkai shrugged elegantly, awarding Sanzo yet another of his famous half-smiles. Why on Earth no one had put forth the idea that this grin would best suit a lawyer was beyond Sanzo.
“Funny how often a hostile takeover starts like that,” he said noncommittally. Hakkai seemed happy in his chosen profession, and Sanzo was able to sleep at night, content in the knowledge that no child of his would ever be moulded in that man’s image. He sometimes wondered how the parents of Hakkai’s pupils slept, though of course the obvious answer was they didn’t and it was the sleep deprivation that motivated the decision to entrust their spawn to Satan’s care.
Sanzo cared deeply for Hakkai. He truly did. This was not the time for such musings, however.
They stood in the shifting shadows at the entrance to the ballroom, watching the situation unfold. Goku was still on the dais, conversing with the freak. Sanzo gritted his teeth.
“There’s Gojyo,” Hakkai said, taking hold of Sanzo’s arm. Gojyo was grinding with a towering flock of feathers and sequins. There was a fluffy, lime-green boa on his neck, which made for a spectacular piece of visual foreshadowing for what Sanzo’s arm was going through.
“Hakkai?”
“Yes?”
“Desperation is unbecoming.”
“What?”
“You are cutting off my circulation.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“What was it you said about possessiveness and hitting them over the head?”
“Do shut up.”
“Oh man, you look scary!” Sanzo and Hakkai turned as one to face one of the partygoers, a kid, who was staring at Hakkai with awe. There was a joint in the corner of his mouth, and the kid’s breath dispersed the smoke right into Sanzo’s face. “Great job!”
To Sanzo’s horror, Hakkai responded by revealing a hint of fang in a shadowed smile that sent the kid, squealing in delight, back into the crowd.
“We better move, unless we want an audience.” Hakkai smiled again, thankfully this time without showing teeth, and nodded in the direction of the dais. “Try to leave the hall unseen.”
“Try not to leave with a corpse on your back.”
“Likewise.”
Hakkai dived into the crowd with enviable ease, leaving Sanzo mapping out people-free paths to Goku, but for one of those he’d have to fly. He took a deep breath, snapped the goggles on – there was no telling how many others had smokes to blow into his eyes – and stepped into the fray. One thing that immediately became apparent was that there were too many elbows, given the possible amount of people in the vicinity. Sanzo fought against the elbowed monster, but – and here was a revelation to note in his diary – crowds were easier to get through without the fight.
Sanzo discovered that when he took advantage of the natural undulation of the mass of people he could travel without effort in any direction, which landed him at the foot of the dais in no time at all.
It took a moment to realise that he was face to face with dog breath, and that the low growling sound was not the music. “The hell is your problem, you mutt?” Sanzo hissed, when a step back proved to be impossible. Fortunately for the unbitten state of his face, Dug suddenly changed his tune and yipped, following which Sanzo’s face got a good tonguing.
“Monkey! Put a leash on the dog!”
“Sanzo?” Goku’s head rised. He tried looking around, discovered he was still blind, then slid to the end of the settee, in Sanzo’s direction. “Is that you?”
“No, my evil twin. Let’s go, before that freak shows back here.”
“Hells yeah.” Goku reached out until his hand touched the top of Sanzo’s head, found his shoulders and walked off the dais, landing in Sanzo’s arms. “I was worried when you weren’t here. Where are Hakkai and Gojyo?”
“Around. Let’s hope the mutt doesn’t get stepped on.” Sanzo grasped Goku’s hand, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Why hello there,” said a smarmy voice and Sanzo froze. He knew that voice. Oh holy fucking hell.
“Um, I wanted to dance?”
“Interesting.” Sanzo felt the gaze travel down Goku’s arm, to Sanzo and then onto his goggles. “And who might you be, to be stealing my precious guest?”
“None of your business,” Sanzo snapped, foolishly, as he realised not a second later.
“Curious, as I am the host of this ball, and I saw to every invitation personally.” There was a merry little twinkle in his eye. Sanzo longed to punch his face in. “I don’t think I am wrong when I question your presence.”
Fuck. Sanzo considered the concrete cells, the metal toilet and the unsanitary sink. “Awesome party you throw, Homura, if your guests get ID checks all the time, by their drunk host, no less. What are you now, the party police?”
“Ah, perhaps I am a bit tipsy.” Homura took a seat on the edge of the settee, avoiding Dug, who clearly disapproved of the proximity. “I didn’t mean offence. You are stealing my precious Goku, however, and that is a little annoying.”
“Hey, hey. What’s with the name calling,” Goku said, waving his free arm around. “Look, you’re nice and all, but tone it the hell down. I’ve- well, no, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I’m not going out with you.”
“Really now, it’s not nice to crush a man’s heart so thoroughly.” Homura knelt at the edge of the dais and leaned in towards Goku, so close their noses almost touched.
Sanzo rolled his eyes. “Quit it with the guilt trips and leave the kid alone. He wants to dance. Let him dance.”
“With you.” Homura gave Sanzo a long stare, raising the soft hair at the back of his neck. “He wants to dance with you, when he wouldn’t dance with me.”
Sanzo felt a swell of pride. Fuck you, you smug motherfucker; Goku liked him better. “What, it’s my fault, all of sudden?”
“Isn’t it?”
“You know what? Fuck you,” Sanzo said, ignoring Goku’s nails, which dug into the skin of his hand. “Lay off the paranoia for ten minutes, and enjoy your own party. Someone’s got pot somewhere over in that corner.”
“Oh, I know.” Homura grinned as he surveyed his ball and Sanzo got ready to run. The moment Homura’s head was turned, he dived into the crowd, urging Goku into a run.
They were almost out of the crowd when Homura shouted and the party ground to a halt. Fortunately at that time it was easy to elbow their way out of the crowd and rush through the door. Sanzo cast one last look at the hall, at the darkened mass of costumes and gleaming fangs. Then, through the darkness and strobe lights, he heard Homura’s voice and the distant sound of alarms.
“…they are armed and dangerous. Stay where you are.”
Oh fuck, Sanzo thought, and ran. Dug cheerfully took point, barking at every corner they took. Before long they ran into Hakkai and Gojyo, who were either fucking behind a pillar, or having a very unpronounceable argument. Sanzo didn’t want to know.
“What happened?” Hakkai asked, when he deigned to notice they had company.
“Nothing.”
Above their heads, orange lamps started rotating and flashing in their casing. There was the subtle, but unmistakeable sound of an alarm being sounded throughout, belying Sanzo’s reply.
“Sanzo, I distinctly recall requesting a silent, problem-free escape.”
“I recall something being said about desperation and jealousy.”
“Oh?” Goku piped up. “What did you do?”
“Gojyo was flirting. It occurred to me our agreement wasn’t properly verbalised.” Hakkai gave Gojyo a look, which would have sent even the bravest of man cowering in fear.
“Because ‘verbalising’ is what you were doing behind the pillar.”
“Lay off, dude. Don’t hate on us for getting laid once in a while.”
“Yes, excuse me. Let’s maybe consider an escape first?” Goku waved his hand in the direction of the corridor, into which Dug’s nose was pointing.
“I’d love to,” Hakkai said. “There was the garage… Sanzo, which way was the garage?”
Sanzo bit back a snarky comment with difficulty. “It should be that way.” That way was a barren, concrete corridor, all the more eerie for its bluish light scheme. He was reasonably sure that was the way to go, but the colours of the base changed since he last walked the corridor, which seemed to have wrecked his internal compass.
They pressed on regardless, rounding every corner with care. The sounds of the party behind them had not ceased. If anything the alarms and flashing lights had extended the discotheque into the whole underground.
“Shit,” Sanzo said suddenly. “We didn’t check the exits.”
“What exits?”
“The garage. Where the hell is the exit out of the garage?”
Hakkai looked around a corner, turned back with a finger to his lips. “Patrol,” he mouthed. The foursome froze, their backs plastered against the wall. Sanzo tried to recall the flooring plan, how far they’d gone, how far they had yet to go and what were the odds Homura was behind the corner and would stand still long enough for Sanzo to punch him in the face.
No sooner had the echo of the heavy boots quieted, when Hakkai motioned them to move forward, and Dug let out a sharp bark. Sanzo turned in time to see a heavy shoe fly towards his face. Years of sitting in front of a computer dulled his reflexes so that he barely managed to let out an undignified yelp, before the shoe changed course and, in a graceful arch, hit the floor.
“What?” Sanzo managed, when the owner of the shoe groaned, and Goku delivered a harsh slap to the face of another soldier, elbowed her in the gut, grabbed her arm and effortlessly sent her flying into a wall. When he straightened there was a gun in his hand, pointed at the far wall.
“Um. Sorry?” he said, dropping the gun and wiping his hands on his trousers. Dug lolled out his tongue and sniffed at the groaning duo on the floor. “Are they okay?”
“They have goons to look out for them. Let’s move it.” Gojyo grabbed Goku by the arm and herded him into the empty corridor. Hakkai followed, dragging Sanzo behind. “What was that, by the way?”
“What was what?”
Gojyo, by way of answering, snapped his fingers in front of Goku’s face. “This. Are you blind or what?”
“No, I walk into walls for fun.”
“So what gives?”
“I dunno. Koumyou said that there’s nothing wrong with my eyes, just the brain tissue, and brain is fuzzy, so that sometimes I can see stuff without actually seeing stuff.”
Sanzo started, but just then they reached a turn, and he had to focus on the way.
“That makes so much sense. While we’re at it, do you have wisdom to impart on the subject of economy?” Gojyo said, clearly not caring for logical progression.
“’s got money in it?”
“It’s a wonder no one’s made you a professor yet.” Gojyo gave the left turn a cursory glance. Finding it empty, he continued with the conversation, unperturbed by the overall situation. “So we covered the part in which you kick arse, how about the part where you kick arse?”
“Karate?”
“You did karate? They’ve got a blind fury division?”
“Stupid cockroach. What, making fun of me is your way of getting over being gay?”
“Okay, who the hell said I’m gay?” Gojyo paused in the middle of the corridor, waving his arms. “That’s a filthy lie.”
“Remind me to get you a t-shirt,” Hakkai looked around the next corner, found it safe, and urged the lot of them forward. “It will look particularly flattering when you’re blowing me. I might even take pictures, frame them and send them out as Christmas cards.”
“Don we now our gay apparel,” Goku and Gojyo intoned in perfect synch, with Dug providing background vocals.
“How is that no one has arrested the two of you yet?” Sanzo elbowed his way to the front of the group and smouldered with anger until they reached the garage door. It wasn’t closed. Sanzo was insulted.
“That’s a lucky coincidence.” Hakkai said, casting a longing glance at the Aston Martin.
“I’m starting to suspect stupidity at work.”
“Considering your track record, this is a huge improvement. I couldn’t be more proud.” Hakkai dared to pat Sanzo’s shoulder as they piled into the Jeep. He snapped his seatbelt on just as the door flew open and the soldiers started rushing into the garage, prompting Hakkai to floor the gas pedal and – with a squeal of the tyre loud enough to make Hollywood as a whole take notes – spring out of the parking space in the direction suggested by the arrows.
Sanzo wasn’t sure whether to chalk this up to rampant stupidity or just compliance with the fire code, but within the minute they were rolling out of the concreted base and into the starlit night.
“Wow. That was easy.” Gojyo stretched in the back seat. Dug, who had made himself comfortable between Gojyo and Goku, raised his head to bark his agreement, then curled on the seat again.
“Where are we going now?” Goku asked.
“Good question.” The dirt road ended abruptly, the stones and sand giving way to an even surface of asphalt. Hakkai, without giving it much thought, rolled onto it, braked like crazy to avoid a collision with a minivan, then claimed the middle lane and floored it.
“I am never getting in the same car as you again. Remind me why is he driving again?” Sanzo turned to Gojyo, who was holding on to his seat with one hand, holding Dug in place with the other.
“Because I’ve never driven outside the UK and you haven’t driven ever.”
“I’ve driven bumper cars. That would do.”
“It wouldn’t,” Hakkai said, overtaking a lorry and causing a few heart attacks, because the midline of the road got straddled in the process, to say the least.
“Wait, Sanzo. You drove bumper cars?” Sanzo heard the seatbelt unroll, the only cue before Goku’s warm breath tickled his ear. “You went to a carnival and drove bumper cars?”
“In my defence, I was ten.”
“Man, I’d totally go! I figure if I act normal and it’s not a busy day, I could have a go. I had my licence revoked.”
“Whoever decided on this glaring injustice?” Gojyo said, shoving Goku back into his seat as Hakkai started on another series of death-defying manoeuvres. Overhead, a sign pointed right, though to what exactly it was hard to tell. Hakkai swerved again, prompting a loud protest from his passengers.
“It’s an airport!” he yelled when the trees surrounding the road thinned, revealing a steel structure in the distance.
“Finally, some civilisation,” Gojyo muttered. “Though I’ll give them that: the views are spectacular.”
Sanzo agreed privately. They were pretty high on a mountain, overlooking the expanse of the plains with few villages scattered here and past them, in the distance, the ocean.
“Uh oh,” Hakkai said all of sudden. The steering wheel jerked and they split off into a narrow road, which only deserved the name because of the tyre tracks that offered the suggestion that some others had chosen the path.
“What the fuck?” Sanzo asked, narrowly avoiding decapitation by a tree branch.
“Military outpost.”
“We want to get to the damn airport.”
“With uniformed troops following us? We’ll be lucky not to get drugs shoved into our pockets.”
“Airports would have police,” Sanzo said, even though he had to admit the idea of being detained sounded very unappealing at the moment.
“If not the airport, what?” Gojyo asked. Hakkai waited until the road was horizontal again before replying.
“There’s a marina. We can hitch a ride with someone there.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.” Sanzo heard this, and groaned. Even without looking he knew Gojyo was grinning like a lunatic. “Awesome.”
“How precisely do you plan on hitching a ride across the Atlantic?” Sanzo asked, turning to Hakkai.
“I was counting on your cooperation.”
“Am I famous for hiding kayaks in my pockets? Because this is news to me!”
“Sanzo.”
“Shut up.”
“Sanzo.”
“What?” Gojyo asked from the back seat. “He really doesn’t have a kayak in his back pocket. We’d have noticed.”
“No, but he does have an aunt, who’s cruising the marinas of Venezuela.”
“I do?” Sanzo asked stupidly, gazing out of the windscreen. Last he’d heard the annoying know-it-all woman was in the Caribbean. Of course that had been March, she would have moved on since then. “What do I look like, a family calendar?”
“What are the odds your aunt is anywhere near here?” Goku asked. This was probably a fair question. Sanzo considered. Hakkai oftentimes visited, and he wasn’t shy about answering Sanzo’s phone. It was entirely possible that the damn woman had called to check in, and Hakkai simply hadn’t relayed the message.
Or he had, and Sanzo had simply ignored it.
“We need a phone,” Sanzo said. “Now.”
TBC
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Date: 2010-10-20 11:55 pm (UTC)OMG, here comes Kanzeon!!!
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Date: 2010-10-30 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-21 11:52 am (UTC)More please.....
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Date: 2010-10-30 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-16 01:46 am (UTC)Well, done!