A/N: Just for fun, Misaki's POV from the beginning of Wine and Sympathy

Bonus Chapter

Misaki gave her damp hair one more vigorous rub before settling the towel on her shoulders. She usually preferred to shower in the mornings after her swim, but she'd been caught in the downpour on her way home from the office and the rain had chilled her to the bone. A hot shower had been the only fix.

She'd been hoping that Hei would arrive before she finished; she had a fantasy of being in the bath or shower, and him slipping into the room without her noticing. He would step into the water behind her and wrap his arms around her…but the one time that she'd suggested showering together, he'd only said, "Yin." So she was resigned to that scenario remaining a fantasy.

Still, it would have been nice to find him waiting for her in the bedroom. But no such luck.

It was still relatively early, before midnight, and Misaki didn't like going to bed with damp hair. She put on a comfy pair of shorts and a tank top, and settled herself on a barstool at her kitchen counter. The sound of the rain beating down outside made a pleasant background to her thoughts.

She'd brought home a stack of files - everything that Section Four had on EPR and its suspected members, as well as all reports concerning BK-201. Removing them from her briefcase where they had remained mercifully dry, she spread them out across the countertop and began organizing them into piles.

EPR had been silent ever since they had released their manifesto, and she was worried that they were planning something loud and splashy, something that would make the existence of contractors known across the world. If only their leader would come forward, they could try negotiating. There must be some way for EPR to get what they wanted - equal rights for contractors, something that Misaki was inclined to support - without more innocent people getting hurt.

But who was their leader? Hourai had told her that EPR was under the direction of UB-001: a contractor who had been in the South American conflict, and who had activated her power not long before the disaster at Heaven's Gate…BK-201 had been active around that time too. Misaki tapped a pen against her wrist absently. Hei knew UB-001; he'd been meeting with her at the shrine.

Misaki tried to picture the scene in her mind again. She'd only gotten the briefest of looks. Hei had been standing with his back to her, outlined in blue as if ready to release his power. UB-001 had been in front of him, blocked from Misaki's view, and had activated her power before Hei had had a chance to use his; at least, that was what it looked like from Astronomics' report. Misaki pulled the report out and stared at it, willing it to reveal to her what had happened that night.

Something had certainly happened - Hei, UB-001, and anyone else who had been there (she was sure that there had been more people, though she couldn't say how many) had vanished without a trace in just seconds. And Misaki's glasses had mysteriously moved to the top of her head.

What was UB-001's ability, exactly? They didn't have any data on that. All she knew was that UB-001 had once worked for MI-6. Maybe November 11 would know; she would feel more comfortable asking him than asking Hei. South America was an especially touchy subject with her lover.

Misaki sighed to herself. It always came back to Hei. He had been prepared to kill EPR's leader that night, before UB-001 had used her ability. Misaki didn't know for sure, but her gut feeling told her that it was personal for him, and not an assignment. And personal to Hei meant his sister, whose Messier code he still wasn't willing to share with her.

She thought back to the first time that she'd asked him about his sister's star, and his response: There's only one person who knows what happened to Bai. But she won't talk; she's just been toying with me. That's all she's ever done. Was that person UB-001? Someone he'd known during the war, someone he'd trusted? A teammate? …A lover?

And what had Morado said, when Hei was questioning him in Yokohama. Misaki's English wasn't great, but she thought that she'd followed the conversation well enough. Morado had teased Hei about always being with two women, and Misaki being his "new" lover. Hei had asked Morado about Bai, and then about someone named Amber, as if there was a connection between the two. Morado had been visibly worried by the idea that this Amber was in Tokyo.

Was Amber UB-001? Hourai's intel had UB-001's name as February, but that was with MI-6; it would make sense for her to change her codename upon joining another organization. Misaki tried to mentally put the pieces together. EPR's leader was February, who had gone by the name Amber in South America; she and Hei had been lovers during the war.

Misaki realized that she was tapping the pen so hard that she was probably going to leave a bruise on her wrist. She forced herself to stop, and set down the pen.

When Hei had to leave his sister's side to hunt down Morado, that was when Heaven's Gate had vanished. He had trusted Amber, his lover, with his sister, but Bai had disappeared. Amber now showed up in Tokyo five years later, and Hei confronted her at the shrine, to demand answers about Bai - answers that he didn't get, judging by his words to Misaki.

If that was true, if Amber was Hei's former lover…then she was in the city right now. And Hei knew it, was even in some sort of contact with her. What did Amber want from him? She must want something, or she wouldn't have left him alive after their meeting, knowing that he had been planning to attack her. …Or was she trying to rekindle their relationship? Misaki tried to squelch the jealousy threatening to sour her stomach.

Blond. The other woman had been blond, and really, really short. That was all that she could remember. Did he prefer short women?

Misaki sighed in frustration, and pushed the reports on EPR to the side. She should just talk to Hei about it. Surely she could find some way to bring up the subject without making it seem personal. It was hard to get him to talk about his past, but she had noticed that he was more amenable to answering questions when he was relaxed. He'd told her about the Yakuza doll a few nights ago, after all.

But asking him about South America was different. South America...Hei had been there, UB-001 had been there, the greatest contractor-related disaster to have occurred so far had happened there. Something in her gut told her that her answers were there too. Not literally; but maybe by investigating the stars that had been active during the war, especially around the time Heaven's Gate disappeared, and by comparing them with stars currently active around Tokyo and those suspected to be linked to EPR…

Stars. Hourai had told her that BK-201 had shone right before the disappearance of the Gate. Hei had told her that he had been human during the war, and had become a contractor after the disaster.

At least, that was what she'd understood him to be saying. But that didn't make any sense. Was she missing something? She had that feeling in her gut again, that something important was staring her right in the face.

She had to write this down. Misaki picked up her pen, but as she did, the sound of rain suddenly grew louder. She turned to see Hei sliding the balcony door shut behind him, muting the rain once again.

He was wearing his Black Reaper gear, the rainwater dripping steadily from his coat. She smiled at the sight of him all in black, with his wet hair plastered to his forehead. She thought wistfully of her shower fantasy again.

"Here," she said, setting her pen down and slipping down from the barstool, "you can hang your coat in the bathroom to dry."

He shrugged off his coat without a word and headed down the hallway, Misaki following behind. He seemed to be moving a little stiffly, she thought. In the bathroom, Hei draped the coat over the shower curtain rod, then turned to her. His face was drawn.

She wrapped her arms around him in a way that avoided her touching his knives, and pressed her face into his chest. His hands went to her waist, caressing her tenderly, and he pulled her close.

"Mm," she murmured, her voice muffled by the smooth fabric of his shirt. "You're soaking wet."

"It's raining," he said.

She loved the way he could reduce something to the simplest terms possible. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

He rested his cheek against her head. "No. Just tired."

She didn't want to know what he'd been doing that would wear him down so much.

"Why don't you get into bed and get some sleep? I still have some work to finish up, I'll join you when I'm done." That was another fantasy of hers: a normal relationship with him, one in which they could both come home at night to an apartment that they shared, and cuddle together in a bed that belonged to them both. It was possible. Maybe.

Hei squeezed her once, then let go. "Alright."

He unbuckled his weapons harness, but instead of lowering it into the bathtub to continue undressing, he drew one of his long double-bladed knives and examined it. Water dripped from the end of blade; Misaki watched the drops fall uneasily.

"Can I see that towel?" he asked. It took Misaki a second to realize that he was talking about the towel that was still around her shoulders.

"It's still a little damp," she said, but she pulled it off and handed it over.

Hei took the towel and spread it in the bottom of the tub. "It's alright," he said. He then took the hand towel that was hanging above the toilet and dried his knife thoroughly. He laid the weapon on the towel in the tub, then drew another blade and proceeded to dry that one.

A dutiful soldier, taking care of his weapons before himself, Misaki mused. Or was he an artist, caring for his instruments?

She leaned against the sink and tried to ignore the heat spreading through her body at the sight of his muscles, moving beneath his shirt. He needed to sleep, and she needed to get back to her work; she was on the verge of making some important connections - she knew she was, and she couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

When he finished with his knives, he stripped off his harnesses and belt and bent to place them in the tub. Misaki moved up behind him, and as he straightened she slipped her hands in his waistband and with light fingers, took hold of the hem of his sodden shirt. He let her pull it up over his head, then removed it from his arms himself and hung it up next to his coat.

Misaki trailed her fingers down his sides, then across his stomach as he turned to face her. His skin was cool and still wet with rain water; he must have been out in the rain for hours.

"This reminds me of our first night together," she said, fidgeting with fastenings of his pants and telling herself that she had to get back to work. Although, if she wanted him to be amenable to questions…

Hei squeezed her bottom gently and pulled her hips against his. "Third," he said as his lips found the corner of her eye.

Misaki closed her eyes and smiled. Was he counting from the night when she'd discovered who he really was, and kissed him? There was a romantic side to her Black Reaper, she was coming to realize, buried deep beneath layers of denial, and she loved whenever it surfaced. She only wished that she was able to draw it out more often.

Cold water was dripping from his hair and wetting her cheeks. "You need to dry off before you catch something," she told him, forcing herself to open her eyes and take a step back. "My spare towels are in my closet; I'll go get one."

She left him in the bathroom and crossed the hall to her bedroom, turning on the lights to keep from tripping over the file boxes that were randomly positioned on the floor. She was usually much more organized than this, but lately she just hadn't had the energy to keep up with her housework; Hei seemed to drain it all from her. Not that she was complaining.

Misaki pulled an old bath towel from the shelf in the back of her closet. She turned to head back to the bathroom - and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Hei, who was standing at the closet door in only his shorts. She hadn't heard him following her.

"Thank you," he said softly, his gaze captivating her. She didn't think she'd ever get used to the way he could just appear behind her, without a sound. She didn't want to get used to it - she loved the way it made her blood pound in her veins.

Hei reached for the towel, the intensity in his eyes increasing as he continued to hold her gaze. Instead of handing it to him, Misaki stepped up until there was the barest inch of space left between them, and began drying his hair herself.

They never broke eye contact as she worked, first massaging his scalp, then continuing down to his shoulders, arms, chest, and back. She smiled when she reached his stomach, stroking his taut muscles slowly through the nap of the towel.

"I thought you were tired," she said.

His voice was heavy. "I am."

She tried to resist the passion building between them; the stack of files waiting for her on the kitchen counter was tugging at the edges of her mind. But at the look in his eyes, the towel slipped from her fingers, and she took hold of his still-damp hair and pulled him closer as he leaned in to kiss her.

Misaki managed to collect herself when they broke for air. She needed to work, and he was exhausted; she could sense his weariness in the way he was leaning into her, holding her instead of caressing her. Maybe there was a compromise.

"You need to get some rest," she said, trying to steady her pulse. "Let me help you."

Hei's grip on her tightened. "Don't say that," he breathed into her ear, sounding almost fearful. "Amber used to say that."

Misaki felt a jolt of surprise. I was right?

"Okay," she said, confused yet gratified by his seeming need to distance himself from reminders of his former lover. But if he was willing to bring up the subject himself, maybe she'd be able to get information from him after all. "Okay, I won't. Just tell me what you need."

His voice was low and husky. "I need you." And as his lips moved to the curve of her neck just behind her ear, all thoughts that weren't Hei fled from her mind.

~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~

"Misaki, there's someone at the door," someone whispered urgently into her ear. She tried to tell them to go away and let her sleep, Hei was here and she didn't want to miss a minute with him, but it came out as an unintelligible mumble.

"Misaki." The irritating person shook her shoulder.

She opened her eyes, blinking at the bright light of the lamp beside the bed. Why hadn't she turned it off? "What?" she asked groggily, feeling the bedside table for her glasses.

"Door," was the only answer she got. She found her glasses and put them on in time to see Hei disappear from the room.

"Not again," she muttered to herself as she kicked the covers off and began the hunt for her shirt. There it was, over by the closet.

Hei returned as she was pulling it over her head. He'd put his black pants back on, she saw. He positioned himself against the wall where the opening bedroom door would hide him from sight, every muscle in his body tensed, eyes focused on the hall outside.

She sighed, too tired to let his alertness affect her. "It's probably just the neighbor again."

Last week, her elderly neighbor had knocked on her door in the middle of the night, concerned that someone had broken in and was assaulting Misaki, not having heard such sounds coming from her apartment before. That had been embarrassing. Though she had made an effort to be quieter since then. At least Mrs. Matsuda hadn't called the police.

Misaki straightened her tank top, and was halfway into the hall when Hei said softly, "Pants."

She stopped and looked at him, confused. There was nothing wrong with his pants. His expression turned slightly amused at her look, and he made a gesture with his chin. She followed his indication, and saw her own shorts lying crumpled on the bed.

"Shit." She snatched the shorts off the bed and put them on awkwardly as she exited the bedroom, then dashed lightly to the door, going over a few choice words to say to Mrs. Matsuda. At least, she was hoping that it was Mrs. Matsuda; her heart was in her throat at the thought that someone had found her and Hei out, and it was the police. Or worse.

But when she looked through the peephole and saw who her visitor was, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Kanami was looking a little bedraggled and more than a little dispirited; Misaki didn't hesitate to open the door.

"Oh, geez," her friend said upon seeing her. "I'm sorry. I saw your light on, and I was sure you were still awake."

"I was awake," Misaki protested, holding the door open for Kanami to enter.

But Kanami hesitated. "It's not that important; I'll let you get back to sleep."

"You wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. And anyway, I wasn't asleep." She stifled a yawn.

Kanami quirked an eyebrow. "Liar."

Misaki smiled. Kanami could always see right through her. "Fine. I'd dozed off, but I hadn't meant to be asleep yet; I still have work I want to finish up tonight." That much was true; however, once she was lying beside Hei there wasn't much that could move her from his side again. She wasn't going to be getting any work done tonight, with or without Kanami's visit.

"Here," she held out her hand for Kanami's jacket, which was just as drenched as Hei's had been. "I'll hang that in the bathroom. There's a new bottle of wine in the fridge."

"Thanks, a glass of wine would be perfect," Kanami said.

Misaki left Kanami to pour out the wine, and took her jacket to the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was nearly shut and the light was off now, she noticed. She didn't know what was more erotic, the knowledge that she had a secret lover hidden away in her bedroom, or the fact that that lover was a dangerous assassin. She suppressed a delicious shiver.

Then she stepped into the bathroom, and realized that she was going to have to come up with an excuse to keep Kanami out of it. Hei's clothes - except his pants - were still hanging from the curtain rod, and the bathtub was full of knives. There was no way she could move any of it without her friend hearing her. Certainly there was no way she could explain it.

She tossed Kanami's jacket over an empty part of the curtain rod, then turned to leave. As she did, she caught sight of herself in the mirror: her hair was a mess, and her shirt was inside-out. Geez. No wonder Kanami had been reluctant to come in. She was going to be hard-pressed to keep Hei's presence tonight a secret.

Misaki straightened herself up as best she could, then left the bathroom. She glanced down the hall toward the living room; it sounded like Kanami was still in the kitchen. She slipped into the dark bedroom.

"Hei?" she whispered. She couldn't see a thing. She turned towards the space behind the door where he'd been standing when she'd left, and almost gasped aloud in shock when he caught her from behind. Almost aloud, because his hand was over her mouth. She could tell it was Hei from the way his chest felt against her back.

"It's just me," she hissed when he removed his hand from her mouth - though he kept his other arm around her waist.

He nipped at her ear. "I know."

A small moan escaped her throat. "Kanami's here; she needs to talk something over. It's important."

"Do you need me to leave?"

Implicit in his question was the suggestion that he didn't want to go, but would if she asked. She loved the words that he didn't say almost more than the ones that he did.

"No," she told him, turning in his arms and kissing him briefly. "Stay and get some sleep; we could be up talking for a while."

He kissed her back, tugging gently at her lower lip. "Alright." Then he let her go, and she felt rather than heard him return to the bed.

She left the bedroom, careful to leave the door slightly ajar so that he could listen for sounds of potential threats - something she had learned to do early on - and suppressed a sigh. So much for her fantasy of a normal relationship.