Author's Note: HOLY SHIT ART IS ALIVE! I mean…there's no reason to keep a body on a bed, right? And who else do we know with shoulder-length pale-violet hair? Not his dead brother right? And then the Nice-Moral confrontation…GAAAH. Ok. The season finale better be good. We better see Art. Being a BAMF, and Nice, totally apologizing to Art because he still owes him one!

Also, sorry this took so long. Uh…I wasn't quite sure how to spin it…wasn't super satisfied. But here it is now. At a monstrous 5000 words long. O.o. There's probably mistakes abound. Let me know. Otherwise, thanks for having read this work! Hopefully you'll all enjoy the last installment.

I'd actually considered splitting this up, but…didn't. :)

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.

~*~ What To Do When Your Boss's Boss is Sexy ~*~

~ Chapter 3 ~

They had a client come in the hour before. It was a young girl—teenager, about fifteen or sixteen—who'd come in asking them to find out what her best friend has been hiding the past couple of months. She suspected that her friend had gotten in with the wrong crowd, but when asked if she'd talked to said friend about the question, there was a quiet response of 'no'.

Nice really wanted to bang his head against the table for the number of cases that turn up revolving around basic lack of communication as their source.

He also wanted to bang his head against the table for other reasons, but that's all irrelevant.

Or too late, as he already was banging his head against the table. Although, it was more like a defeated 'thunk' resonating from the impact of his forehead hitting against the marble top counter of the bar.

"What's eatin' you?" Birthday dropped into an empty stool beside Nice, slurping loudly on a strawberry-banana smoothie.

"Hmmgmd," came the muffled voice against the counter.

Birthday cocked a brow up at the immobile figure. "Ha?"

"Hegoman," came a slightly clearer, but still mostly incoherent, response.

Birthday sighed and rolled his eyes. "Ya know…you have this real bad habit of dunking your head against the counter when things go south between you and Art. Did things go south between you and Art?" he asked as bored as he could manage to sound. Because really, he wasn't at all secretly gleeful whenever Nice looked like a kicked puppy because the latter had done something to piss Art off—really, he was so much more mature than that. Uh huh. And he wasn't at all having a blast watching the normally suave Sonic minimum holder lose his cool around this new guy making a move on Art. Nope. It wasn't currently sitting at the top of his entertainment list.

"He got mad…" the redhead was able to sniff out briefly during the second he lifted his head before letting it bang against the table once more.

"Uh huh," Birthday agreed, nodding understandingly. "I saw. Ran into Honey. She showed me the live-feed. Or—at-the-time future-feed. It was great. Man…you sure know how to—"

"Birthday," Ratio warned from his seat at a table across the room. It was Birthday's turn to look like a kicked puppy as he pouted.

The orange-haired man settled for patting Nice's shoulder mock-sympathetically and sighed. "I'd help you out, dude, but my charming expertise lies in the ladies' department. And speaking of which, I've got myself a wonderful date with one of them…about now. See ya!" he finished quickly as he finished off his smoothie, grabbed his jacket and made a beeline for the door to escape the glare of disapproval radiating from Ratio's direction.

Ratio sighed and closed his eyes.

The door opened again and Birthday poked his head in. "Oh and one piece of advice for ya—if ya wanna win someone over, it's really not a good idea to go sabotaging the crime scene said person is in charge of and knocking out the conflicting party said person is on good terms with," he said before winking to the still slumped form of Nice across the café, retracting his head and leaving, his departing voice saying something like, "Ah…Reika-chan, sorry to keep you waiting!"

Ratio watched the entire proceedings with an uninterested expression. He was about to take another sip from his coffee when Hajime's quiet voice—which was a rarity—interrupted the silent bar. "Here," she offered quietly, poking a cookie at Nice's cheeks.

Nice languidly rose his head, looked at the offering and sighed dejectedly.

"I'm so sorry that happened. I don't know what's gotten into Nice lately. He's not usually so…" Art trailed off with a gesture, lines of frustration evident in his brows and a look of bafflement crossing his features.

"…so hazardous to other people's health?" Kitazawa suggested with a broad grin. When Art looked even more at a loss and even somewhat pained, however, the blonde quickly amended, "I'm kidding, Art-san! It was totally an accident. He couldn't have known I was allergic to baking soda…honestly it was just bad luck." His grin turned sheepish as he tried to lighten the mood.

Art gave another sigh and shook his head. "He's not usually so…careless. And normally, he has a tendency to stay at the back and observe before acting," Art explained, and thought back to the events earlier.

There had been a break-in at an apartment and Art and his team had arrived to find a woman in her late forties to fifties dead on the kitchen floor with a strong blow to the head.

Among the police at the scene were their newest member, Kitazawa Seiji and Art himself. Art had been in the middle of analyzing the kitchen when Nice showed up.

"Nice? What are you—" Art started, but got cut off when the other shot him a grin and spoke.

"Art! I figured you could use some help. You seem pretty worn out recently—"

"Actually, things have been great—" Art tried to explain, but Nice didn't seem to hear him at all.

"—and I figured you could definitely use my help. And ah, who is this? I've never seen you before. You're quite young," Nice asked Kitazawa, who blinked, momentarily frozen by the abrupt and unexpected turn of interest to him.

"Since when did you take an interest in my team members…" Art mumbled mostly to himself off to the side while Kitazawa snapped himself out of shock.

"Ah, Kitazawa Seiji. Pleasure to meet you…?" He asked nervously, not quite liking the way the stranger was eyeing him.

"Nice to meet you, Seiji-kun. I'm Nice," the redhead grinned, though Kitazawa could have sworn there was a feral hint to it.

"Er…that's good to know? Nice people are…great?" Kitazawa responded uncertainly, wincing minutely under the tad-too-strong grip the other had in their handshake. The young officer was really not liking the hostile vibe he was getting here…

"Ah. Sorry," Nice apologized, not sounding terribly apologetic, while relinquishing the handshake. "That's my name. Nice."

Kitazawa blinked and opened his mouth dumbly. "Oh," he said simply. "Interesting name." He didn't really know what else to say. Shooting a furtive glance at his superior, he found that the latter watching 'Nice' with an unreadable expression. "Um…" he began while turning his attention back to Nice—what was this guy doing here?—and asked exactly what had just crossed his mind.

The civilian—or so he appeared to Kitazawa, dressed in jeans, casual shirt and vest with a pair of headphones hanging around his neck—hummed noncommittally in response. For a moment Kitazawa thought his question would go completely ignored—what an eccentric guy?—until the other finally spoke up, "I'm a private investigator. Sometimes when Art gets into a pinch, I help him out. We're best friends as well. We go way back, me and him. I've saved his ass a time or two…" Kitazawa could have sworn there was an emphasis of sorts on the word 'ass', but he didn't have much time to think on that.

"Nice," Art cut in admonishingly. "As much as I have appreciated your help on other cases, this is not one of them. I don't know how in the world you found out about this—" Nice had the decency to look slightly uncomfortable at the not-so-subtle accusation, perpetuated by Art's hard glare. "—but this is currently a crime scene being investigate by the police. Civilians have no place here."

Nice scratched his chin, not quite meeting Art's gaze. "It always helps to have an outsider's perspective…hey wait! What's that on the ground?" Nice quickly dashed into the kitchen area and knelt down next to the body. He swiped a finger against the floor by the body and held it up for closer inspection.

"Nice! You can't just go in and potentially contaminate—" Art started on the other, ire beginning to seep into his nerves.

Nice narrowed his eyes, appearing to be in stern concentration. "Strange…what can this substance be…" He then straight up and turned to the policeman closest to him, holding up his finger, which was coated in some white powdery substance. "Do you know what this suspicious substance is?" The policeman shook his head, which prompted him to turn to the next person he saw, who happened to be Kitazawa. "Do you know what this substance is, hmm? A good policeman should be able to sniff out illegal substances…" he asked while sticking his finger right under the other's nose.

Kitazawa unintentionally inhaled sharply at Nice's sudden action and coughed. He swallowed heavily. "Actually, we have dogs for that. And that's not a drug. That's sodium bicarbonate," he wheezed out faintly, backing away from Nice slowly.

Nice narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Sodium bi-what? And how do you know that? Doesn't smell like anything to me," he added after a whiff of the powder.

The young officer, who seemed to be growing paler and whose breathing appeared to be growing more laborious, managed to wheeze out, "Baking soda. And I know because I'm allergic to it," before collapsing to the ground.

Nice was about to say something like 'oh shit', but before anything else could cross his mind or lips, he was already being pushed out by two of the police officers while Art rushed to his subordinate's side, shouting about antihistamines and frantically asking the latter questions about medical conditions.

Art sighed again at the recollection. "I should have kicked him out sooner," he thought irately, thinking now how it must reflect on him the way he let Nice roam on in like that. He always did have a tendency to give Nice more leeway, although this time he feels like it was probably too much. The other had called his mobile five or six times since the incident and left a couple or so voicemails, though Art didn't yet have the patience to check them.

"You're alright now?" Art asked with an expression of concern, which caused Kitazawa's face to light up like a Christmas tree.

"Yup! No problems, Art-san. I'm all good. Really. Good as new. Uh…your friend really is uh…something," he finished lamely.

Art heavily fought the urge to bury his face in his hands.

"How was I supposed to know the guy was allergic to baking soda!" Nice whined pitifully at his partner, Hajime-chan and the bartender.

"What kind of idiot would go around touching suspicious powdery white substances and go around waving it for people to potentially inhale said suspicious powdery white substance?" Murasaki groaned. "Actually, scratch that. What kind of idiot would eavesdrop on the police lines and arrive at a crime scene that he has no business at and proceed to contaminate the entire scene?"

"Here," Hajime offered another cookie to the down-trodden individual.

Nice stared at the cookie with a face of horror.

"This is a record-breaking low for you if Hajime-chan has offered you three food items in one day," Koneko stated sympathetically.

Murasaki groaned again, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Though I do have to question Art's authority and ability to keep people in line now…"

"Hey, don't go bad-mouthing Art!" Nice shot up straight, glaring at his partner.

Murasaki rallied an equally hard glare back. "Well maybe you should have thought about that before waltzing in there! Do you honestly think other people, his men especially, won't think his authority's been undermined? You've definitely managed to humiliate Art. Great job, dumbass."

As the realization dawned on Nice, he wilted in his seat. "Art's gonna hate me…" he gasped in horror.

"Too late, dumbass. He already does."

A few weeks passed with no exchange between Art and Nice. Art wanted to deny that he was avoiding the latter…after all, the case did kind of dump itself on his desk. He did kind of get swallowed by work. He really needed to spend one whole Saturday afternoon bored out of his mind, sitting at home, watching TV, not remembering what was on TV, maybe eating breakfast, lunch and dinner…by himself…

…Ok, so he was avoiding Nice.

Over the past couple of weeks, Nice had left an assortment of voicemails and texts. It ranged from whiny, childish apologies to jokes to daily updates—Art really didn't need to know that Nice spent an hour on the toilet one day due to 'strange bowel movements' however.

He got flowers at one point. At first, when the massive arrangement of colorful tulips and daisies arrived at the police station, Art wanted to roll his eyes and tell the desk clerk to just toss it all out. After all, he wasn't a fan of flowers at all. Especially not after the whole Moral incident. Upon closer inspection, however, he realized that the smell radiating from the bouquet wasn't the floral kind.

It was an edible arrangement.

Art had a weak spot for sweet things.

Damn Nice for knowing.

He half contemplated calling Nice up after consuming a chocolate rose…but then he got called in by the higher ups—so much for being superintendent—for questioning regarding the incident, and he was quickly reminded of how displeased he still was at a certain redhead.

A couple times, he found the other sitting outside the door to his apartment. But both times, he fervently ignored Nice and went inside, locking the door right after him, leaving a disappointed Nice standing at the door. Nice would stand there for about half an hour, glancing up every once in a while hopefully, before finally leaving.

Art knew because he'd checked through the peephole every five minutes or so. On quite a few occasions, he was extremely tempted to just yank open the door and forgive the other, but somehow it never happened.

Today, he was sitting at his office desk, tapping a pen against his cheek while scanning the file before him.

Or he was until the door slammed open.

He jerked his head up to see—"Nice?" Art asked incredulously. He frowned. "What are you—"

Gasquet followed closely behind a frantic Nice. "Geez…I told the kid it wasn't a good idea to see you…but would he listen? Nope. Said somethin' about having to get you urgent news."

Art looked at Nice in confusion, momentarily forgetting all his anger. "What is—"

"You have to get rid of Kitazawa," Nice said seriously.

Art blinked. "What…why, what did you find?" he inquired curiously and a little worriedly. He performed background checks on all his potential employees…

"Kitazawa." Nice stated, and folded his arms.

"What about him?" Art asked.

"Remember who else was a Kitazawa?" Nice prompted.

Art frowned. "I don't…"

"KitazawaYasuo. Remember him?" Nice encouraged. Art thought back a bit and recalled Kitazawa Yasuo to be the middle school teacher who was secretly behind the bullying of young children while outwardly pretending to be their savior.

"Yes, but I don't see how—"

"They're related. Therefore, Kitazawa Seiji must have it out for you. Therefore, you must fire him immediately." Nice said seriously, staring straight into Art's eyes.

"They're related? How do you know?"

"They have the same last name," Nice reasoned.

Art stared.

"Oh geez," Gasquet mumbled by the door.

Art shut his eyes and mentally counted to ten. "Nice…if you're not out of my office by the time I finish coming up with a fitting threat, I will make you go through the Yokohama phonebook and write a personal letter of apology to each Kitazawa apologizing for accusing them of being related to a deluded sociopath."

By the time he finished speaking and opened his eyes, he saw an empty room save Gasquet standing by the door looking out with an impressed look. "Whew…that minimum sure does have its benefits, doesn't it?"

"Here"

"I don't want it."

"Wow, your day must have really sucked if you scored another three on the Hajime-meter."

"Shut up…"

"Hajime-chan, I'll take that for that lame-ass over there. Ahhh—ow!"

"Idiot."

Kitazawa gulped. He inhaled deeply. And then exhaled. Inhaled again. Exhaled again. Inhaled—oh fuck it, there's no way he was going to calm himself down enough. Staring down at the box of toffee—he knew the other man had a sweet tooth, especially for toffee—in his hands, the young officer thought to himself, 'Screw it, I just shouldn't think anymore,' and proceeded to yank open the door to Art's office—

—only to find the civilian from the other day—Nice-kun, he remembered—kneeling down in front of Art's desk, peeking sheepishly over the edge of the desk, with Art leaning back in his chair, arms folded and a look that suggested he was trying very hard to not look in the redhead's general direction.

Shit. Don't think anymore indeed. He forgot to fucking knock.

"Uh…." he said, not really knowing what else to say.

His supervisor looked startled by his sudden entrance, while Nice turned around and openly glared at him. He couldn't resist a flinch.

"Seiji-kun? Is something wrong?" Art spoke with a hint of concern, seemingly unaware of the fact that he had just rudely barged in and interrupted—well, something.

Kitazawa stared. Then, noticing the way Nice's eyes seemed to wander from his face to the box in his hands, he quickly shoved it behind him. "Um…I'll come back later," he excused himself quickly and slammed the door shut.

'Well that was thoroughly embarrassing…' He thought sullenly to himself. 'But what was that guy doing there?'

'Rooftop?' Art thought as he read the text from Kitazawa before pocketing his phone. After an hour of a relentless Nice sitting in front of his office desk—he was going to punish Gasquet for letting Nice in again—and pouting like a kicked puppy, Art finally told him that, although he was still angry with him, and that the other owed him an assortment of favors, he would probably get over it soon enough. But before the other could let out a whelp of success, Art sternly told him off for visiting his office during peak hours. Had he completely forgotten how doing things like this was undermining Art's authority and could seriously land him in trouble? With that reprimand, Nice seemed to deflate a bit, murmured an apology and left, promising not to disturb Art again.

For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt at being harsh on his friend, but before he could say anything, the other had already left. He let out a sigh of frustration and wondered how it all came to this.

He then spent the next ten minutes thinking. About Nice. And their friendship. About his own life and future—which he actually hadn't thought about in…well, years. Then all sorts of thoughts began to overcrowd him and—that's when his phone alerted him to a text.

Quickly seizing the distraction offered, Art decided to meet up with Kitazawa. Which brought him to now.

As he opened the door to the rooftop and scanned the area for his subordinate's lean figure, he spotted the latter leaning against the railing near the far right corner.

"Seiji-kun?" he prompted as he walked closer.

Kitazawa turned around, a grin taking over his face when he saw who it was. "Art-san!" he called out happily. "Fancy seeing you out here," he said a little breathlessly.

Art quirked an eyebrow. "You're the one who called me out here," he pointed out, lips twitching in amusement.

"Ahh…yup that I did," the younger man admitted sheepishly. "Um…sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to—"

Art waved him off. "It's fine. He shouldn't have been around at that time anyways. Sorry you had to wait. What was it you wanted to talk about?" He massaged them back on topic with a smile.

Kitazawa inhaled. And exhaled. And…oh dear god, he could feel the blush taking over his cheeks.

"Um…I just wanted to say…that is…I know that you're my boss's boss and all. And you're a great boss's boss! Superintendent. Superintendent! Uh…yeah. And Senior Officer Gasquet as well. He's a great boss. You're a great supervisor," Kitazawa rambled, getting steadily more crimson.

Art shifted slightly, brows knitted in a sort of amused confusion. "Thank you, Seiji-kun. That means a lot to me," he encouraged.

"Uh…right. So but…that's not what I wanted to say. I mean, that's not all I wanted to say. Uh…what I wanted to say was that…" He paused again to swallow. His eyes met Art's for a moment, but he couldn't quite hold the gaze with those mesmerizing pools of lilac. "I know you're my supervisor, but you're also really really cool. And I think we work well together. And like, hang out well together. And um…we've had some nice coffee breaks and stuff…so those kind of maybe count…but…I really like you, Art-san, and would love it if you maybe went on a date with me?" he rushed out the last part of the sentence, leaving him breathless and flustered and a little scared to look at the other's reaction.

Goodness, he was always so smooth with the ladies—and on the occasion, men. But here, it was like God came in and just took away his ability to speak!

After what felt like years of agonizing moments, Kitazawa finally braced himself to look up and take in Art's reaction.

Art was staring at him in complete surprise.

"Art-san?" Kitazawa said weakly, pleading the other to say something in the back of his mind.

Finally, Art seemed to realize he was staring and managed to look embarrassed. And then, he smiled sympathetically—Kitazawa's heart dropped at this, and he visibly slumped. It was never good when you got a sympathetic smile from the person you're confessing to. "Seiji-kun…I…can't say I expected this. But I guess I should have? I'm sorry. Gasquet-san is going to make fun of me so terribly now…" Art groaned at the thought. "I'm flattered, Seiji-kun. I really am…but…" he trailed off, not really wanting to finish the now obvious message.

Kitazawa waved him off with a smile. He straightened up and said, "It's alright. I prepared myself for the possibility of a rejection. I'm not that arrogant," he teased, winking to dispel the tension.

Art laughed. "I don't think you can be considered arrogant in the least, Seiji-kun."

Kitazawa shook his head. "Clearly, you don't know me well enough, Art-san," he joked.

But for Art, this statement seemed to cease his laughter. He sighed. "Apparently I don't know anyone well enough, myself included."

The blond-haired man didn't know what to say in response to that, so a few moments passed in silence. Then he asked, "Do you have someone you like, Art-san?"

Art blinked at the question. "No…" he said slowly after a moment. "...I never thought about it."

"Someone you look forward to seeing each day? Someone who you can always turn to when things go wrong?"

A 'no' was on the tip of his lips, but it quickly died when the image of a certain redhead flashed in Art's mind. He smiled nervously. "Should you be asking me all this when I just turned you down a few minutes ago? Isn't it…"

Kitazawa just smiled in return. "Nah. Like I said, I really like you, Art-san. And I know I was a real fluster-geek just now, but I'm ok. I bounce back pretty quickly. Don't worry. I'm not going to confess my undying love for you…haha that'd be awkward…It's nice, isn't it?"

Art nodded, a little confused. "I suppose? It's good you're not…well, in love with me or anything," he rushed out the last part, a tad embarrassed at the idea of someone being in love with him.

Kitazawa had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. "No. I meant…it's Nice, isn't it? You didn't say no to my previous question, Art-san. You were about to. I could tell. But you didn't. Remember I'm observant like that?" he pointed out gleefully.

Art paled. "What do you mean?" he asked a little unwillingly and pointlessly.

Kitazawa rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Maybe you should talk to Senior Officer Gasquet. That old man is rolling from side pains due to laughter now, I'm sure. Come to think of it, now I have more reasons to attribute to that creepy grin of his…" he muttered a little unhappily. But he shook it off quickly enough. "Well. Break's over. See ya, superintendent! Maybe we can still grab coffee from time to time? You know, as friends?"

Art nodded numbly with a smile. "Of course."

Kitazawa grinned and tossed him a box. "That's for you. Let me know how it goes with your friend! Hopefully the next time we meet again, he won't have to try to kill me," he finished the last part with a half-nervous laughter.

And then he left.

Art had a lot to ponder.

A month later, Art had his first 'official' date with Nice.

The entire police station knew about it, as Nice had waltzed right on in during lunch break with a giant bag of chinsukes imported straight from Okinawa—something about making up for something—and proceeded to declare that he needed their superintendent to come down right now because they were going on a 'date'.

Kitazawa had the biggest grin on his face that day, telling his co-workers that he had 'so totally called it'.

His coworkers all rolled their eyes and said they knew.

"What? What do you mean you all knew. Don't lie," Kitazawa scoffed a little disbelievingly.

Saneda, who was a couple of cubicles over, looked unimpressed. "Nice-san comes by the station and Art-san's office all the time. Sure, they weren't officially dating, but everyone knew that they practically were."

Kitazawa blinked. "Wait…how long has this been going on?"

"Since Art-san first transferred here, of course. Even though he's been told off, Nice-kun still never fails to visit all the time," Aida answered with a small smile.

Kitazawa gaped. "And by everyone knew this, you meant…"

Fuji Sachiko smiled at him. "Everyone of course. You're not the only one with eyes. We know how attractive our dear superintendent is. Such a pity he was already taken from the very start, no one had a chance," the older woman sighed lamentingly.

Kitazawa winced. "Fuji-senpai…you realize you're kind of twice his—ow!" Aida kicked his shin before he could finish that sentence.

Fuji smiled dangerously. "You weren't making a comment on my age, of course, were you, Seiji-kun?"

"No," he answered meekly. Then he pouted. "If everyone knew, why did no one tell me? I spent a whole month chasing after him…" he whined.

"It was entertaining," Fuji said simply. "Young love is so fleeting yet precious," she commented dreamily.

"You seemed so sure of yourself. So much for being Mr. Observant, huh," Saneda shrugged. "Plus, it was very entertaining. Think of it as an initiation. Trust me, you weren't the only one who's had thoughts about 'soft shade of lilac'," he added with a snicker. A few others seemed to be in consensus with that remark. Some more solemn nods and some more humorous.

Kitazawa groaned. He hated the Senior Officer. And everyone in this office.

"Oh really? If that's the case, we'd better break up now, shouldn't we, Seiji?" Aida said, a little miffed from beside him.

Oops. Had he said that out loud?

Kitazawa grinned. "You know I love you," he teased back.

He was satisfied when Aida blushed.

Yokohama Police Station Company Gala

The company gala was an annual event, during which all the employees of the company or police station gathered together for fancy dress-up, foods, networking and all in all, celebrating their successes, honoring individuals and remembering their losses.

In the past, Art had always come alone.

This year, he was marked for a plus-one.

Although, he was beginning to regret that decision.

"You actually confessed to Art?" Nice questioned, turning to face Kitazawa with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

The blond, who had completely forgotten that maybe, just maybe, Nice never actually knew about his little confession a few months back and happened to just bring it up as a joke in passing, gulped. "Eh…Nice-kun…" He backed away slowly, hands held in front of him defensively.

Nice glared and began to prowl towards him. "You brat…I knew you had a thing for Art—" Nobody bothered to cut in to tell him that everyone knew he had a thing for Art, except for Art himself. "—well, let me just make this clear. Art—"

"…is standing right here and can speak for himself, thank you Nice." Art cut in smoothly with a charming smile in Kitazawa and Aida's direction and a withering glare of disapproval in Nice's.

"But—"

"No buts. Do we need to leave?"

"…he had a crush on you and—"

"Keyword being 'had'. Seiji-kun is in a healthy relationship with Aida-kun now. Need I remind you what consists of a 'healthy relationship', Nice?" Art smiled darkly.

Nice pouted, but didn't argue. Until…"Can I just—"

"No."

Nice gaped. "You didn't even hear my request! What if I just—"

"Well this crowd is lookin' lively as ever!" Gasquet cut in, joining the circle.

Nice moved to stand behind Art and hug him from behind. "Art, he's a pervert. We should leave."

Gasquet shot Nice an intimidating look. "Ha? What'd you say, kid?"

Art rolled his eyes and removed himself from Nice's embrace. "You're projecting. I think it's time for us to leave."

"What? But—"

"What do you mean 'what'? You were the one who wanted to leave."

"Yeah, but now that you say you want to leave—"

"Oh…so when I say we should leave, suddenly we shouldn't?"

"…no…I just meant—"

Gasquet watched the exchange from the side while shaking his head. He looked over to his side at Kitazawa and Aida. "You two aren't so stubborn and ridiculous are ya?"

Kitazawa smiled. "Nope. We're very happy with each other." He then placed a quick kiss on his partner's cheek. Aida blushed.

Gasquet rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oy vey…old married couple versus newlyweds… I'm not drunk enough for either."

Gasquet proceeded to get shit-faced the rest of the night.

~End

End notes: And that's all folks! Whew that was a long ride. Thank you for reading this story! As always, I'd love to hear feedback. Reviews are very much appreciated. :) Till next time!