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Venia

Part 1:

Happiness. That was not something Lavi had ever hoped to feel again. But the glowing warmth in his chest as he looked down at the man beneath him reminded him that yes, he could be happy again. Yuu gazed up with trust-and a good portion of lust-in his eyes and pressed closer. The redhead smiled and pressed back. An endearing noise halfway between a squeak and a moan made the perilously choked journey from Yuu's clenched jaw, signifying the man to be very, very close. The sweat between their bodies eased the hot friction, but not enough, never enough, because dear God, Lavi had missed this too much.

After so many years of being apart, of feeling as if nothing could heal the ache, forgiveness was finally, hopefully, within his grasp.

Lavi looked down at the letter, not exactly pleased with its contents. "'Dear Bookman,'" he read out loud, mostly for Yuu's benefit. The man was sitting next to him and eyeing him with a certain degree of suspiciousness. He deserved it; after all he had done to Yuu, he felt he deserved a lot more distrust than the man was showing. In the two months since their happy reunion (not that the redhead would ever let his lover know that was what he was calling it), it had become very apparent that their relationship needed rebuilding.

To put it simply, Yuu didn't trust him at all. Every time Lavi left the room, an almost panicked expression would show through the older man's widening eyes. His breathing would inevitably pick up, and sometimes-rarely ever-he'd make an almost inaudible whine that sounded a little bit like that of a dog missing its master. Of course, Lavi never mentioned that, as that would be both cruel and atrocious behavior, especially as the older man probably didn't even realize he was doing it. It would be an affront to his pride, for one. It would also rip their relationship into tatters-not that it already wasn't. It was more like it would be the finishing blow, the final strike in a long line of sins.

The worst part was that Lavi had no idea how to properly atone. Every time he tried to show Yuu he wouldn't leave, it seemed to backfire. Already, the dark-haired man's older sister wasn't fond of him, but that was mostly because he'd accidentally dropped her daughter. Not exactly the best move for him to make when he was trying to prove how trustworthy he was.

A snap of fingers in front of his eyes-one blind, one not-brought Lavi back. "Keep going, you idiot." Yuu's cross voice sounded as impatient and intolerant as ever, so the redhead decided not to push his frail luck and continue on.

"'You have hereby been summoned to active duty in Cuba. You will take the next two days to pack up your belongings and reach the Port of London. The boat you will be taking will bring you across the Atlantic Ocean to the Port of Boston. From there, you will be expected to wait four days until you depart on the small schooner Ulysses. The schooner will take you as far as the Florida Keys. You will have to continue the journey to Cuba on your own, taking whichever route you think will give you the most abundant of information. You will then meet with Captain Marsain in Havana Harbor at El Carrao and relieve the Bookman on duty.'" Lavi paused for a minute, but Yuu still seemed to think there was more. "There's no signature." At that, the dark-haired man looked up and nodded.

"I'm coming too."

The Bookman had known that would be the first thing out of his lover's mouth, so he simply nodded in return. "We'll have to find some kind of role for you. You're too old to be my apprentice, so what skills do you have...?" He trailed off, listing possibilities in his head. He'd gotten used to thinking in such a manner, having no one with him for so long. Yuu couldn't be his bodyguard, as he was expected to be able to take care of himself. He supposed he could enroll his lover in the army company he would be joining, but that would be putting too much at risk. Besides, Yuu had seen far too much of battle to have it forced on him again. He was a formidable swordsman, but he knew next to nothing about guns or archery, let alone riding horses. As Exorcists, they'd always ridden on trains or in carriages. But other than those two modes of transportation, they had only proceeded on foot. So there was no way that the older man could fit into an army, not with such little training. Lavi supposed he could teach him about guns-he'd have to if he expected the man to survive at all-but horsemanship, especially in a battle context, was not something that could be learned in the few days they wouldn't be spending at sea.

Obviously, Yuu being his whore was out of the question. Just suggesting that one to his lover would hurt whatever was left of their relationship, and Lavi didn't particularly like the idea anyway. That left two more positions open. Yuu would never agree to be a servant. Of course, few Bookmen carted around servants anymore. Not since the technological boom. No, servants were objects of the past. By process of elimination, that left one option. Lavi doubted Yuu would like this one either, but he could at least broach the subject with more ease than he could any of the others.

"So Yuu," he began, and his lover perked up a little, obviously having watched the gears turning in his head, "how good are you at writing?"

"Writing?" Yuu asked, blinking. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting a question like that.

"Yes," Lavi insisted. "You see, some Bookmen carry scribes with them so that they don't have to waste their time translating their notes into the language used in the Hall of Record."

"The Hall of Record?" Dark eyebrows flattened quizzically over gray eyes.

"It's the Bookmen's library. All information that we gather is eventually brought over to the Hall of Record, where it is categorized and stored by specialized librarians. They're called Recordkeepers, unoriginally. Recordkeepers begin as scribes, where they learn the secret language that they then use later to organize the logs. Scribes either work in the Hall of Record itself or follow the Bookmen into extremely dangerous warzones. If they are young enough, they sometimes become apprentices, but that's very rare. Usually, they just die. But the language of the Bookmen isn't hard to learn, and it would be great to have someone who could translate all my logs for me." Lavi finished his tangent with what he hoped was a winning smile and looked over at his lover, who surprised him by affecting a contemplative air.

"You're asking me... to be your scribe." His voice was flat, sardonic.

"Yes."

"I would be... useful to you." Once again, his question was stated like a fact. Lavi nodded.

"Yes."

"Let me say good-bye to my sister, then."

To say that the Port of London was busy would be like calling the Order unethical. The word just didn't do the place justice. Masses upon masses of people sardined across the creaking docks. Large, muscled seamen hauled ropes, occasionally swearing at others who cut them off from their goal. Lavi was a bit paranoid in crowds-still, after five years without Akuma, he was afraid of the threat they had once inflicted. It wasn't something someone got over, even five years gone.

Their ship was not hard to miss, even smashed among the larger cargo carriers. She was a mid-sized vessel, her smokestacks puffing in preparation for what could be a treacherous journey. She was stately, if a little dirty from the coal residue that was thick in the air. Her name was scrawled somewhat elegantly on her hull, the Lady Calliope, just as the ticket that had been mailed with the message he had received had stated. With the crowd so dense, Lavi felt it was alright to shoot his hand a few inches to the side, where it met and held Yuu's. In a flash, he'd let go, but the sentiment remained where his hand could not.

With a sidelong glance, the redhead was able to catch his lover's nod of acknowledgment. Deep in the atrophied chasm of his chest, his heart smoldered. Perhaps something of their old relationship still had the hope of being restored. Still, it was best not to dwell on that, not while he had a potentially dangerous mission lying wide open ahead of him. Him and Yuu.

He'd explained to the Japanese man that this trip across the Atlantic would not be a restful one. Most scribes had a lifetime to learn what Yuu would have to cram into his brain in only fifteen days. The language used in the Hall of Record was not spoken; it had no set pronunciation. But it was very complicated, had an entire complex system of grammar, and contained a completely different alphabet than any used across the globe. And it had to look natural, like the man had spent his entire life learning it. He also had to learn the customs of the Bookmen so that he did not seem surprised by any of their practices, some of which were strange and others of which were downright odd.

"Hurry up, idiot," barked Yuu from a few feet ahead. The redhead caught himself twitch in surprise. He knew his concentration was severely depleted around his lover, but this was a bit excessive. Taking a calming breath, he tried to relax and see. Beside him was a little boy kicking around a small pebble. And beside him, even more activity prevailed. Off in the corner, some type of shady deal was being completed-a small, quivering man placed a palm-sized sack into the gnarled hands of an overly-dressed woman. Lavi's intuition told him that the man was unhappy at home.

Not wanting to waste his talents on unworthy targets, Lavi sped up until he was beside the Japanese man.

"I am hurrying!" He insisted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Che, you walk like the moyashi," Yuu groused.

"You wound me."

"Shut up and keep walking. I know it's difficult for you to do both at once."

A little prickle of annoyance poked at Lavi's heart, but he ignored it. He deserved this treatment-he deserved worse.

Boarding the ship was easy enough, and so was descending deep into the bowels of the ship to the third class compartments that had been so kindly paid for by his organization. It was lucky that they didn't have to share their compartment room with any others, lest suspicion be raised and questions asked. Regardless, it was a little box of a room with barely any space to move, let alone sleep. There was not much in the way of furniture, save for a solitary dresser, a dilapidated writing desk, and four hooks, two on either side of the wall, upon which hung two precarious and worn hammocks.

"Well, at least I get a bed this time," Lavi muttered aloud, glad for small miracles. The other times he'd crossed oceans, his fare had not always covered a place to sleep. Once he'd had to run messages for the crew just to be allowed aboard. That trip, he'd slept on a coil of rope. After some time, even that small grace had been taken from him, but in his good luck, he'd found the tiny cabin used to do the crew's laundry and had nestled among the dirty dishrags.

Yuu grunted but remained otherwise silent.

Patting the weathered wood of the desk, Lavi tested for weak craftsmanship. Finding none, he set to work unloading books from his chest. Their luggage had already been brought to the room, as they had stowed it aboard the night prior.

"Okay, then, Yuu," the redhead began, "it's time for you to learn. You up to it?"

With a grunt and a nod, Lavi's new scribe sat on a corner of his own chest, looking determined. It was kind of a cute face, Lavi thought, if you took time to really appreciate it. And even though he wasn't supposed to, he still could not help but gape sometimes. Dark eyebrows furrowed, deep eyes narrowed, mouth set in a grim line, Yuu looked concentrated, much like he did when practicing a new sword technique. Lavi had seen this face many times while they'd been together at the Order, but now he appreciated it ten times more. Believing someone to be dead went a great way in that regard. There were times when Lavi actually couldn't get himself to stop staring. Usually those were late at night, though.

"Alright. We'll begin with the alphabet. It's nothing like Japanese or English, so grab a pencil; you're going to be writing a lot-what do you mean, no one taught you to write?"

Lavi sighed. The endeavor might be more hopeless than he'd first envisioned.

"I may not have been taught to write, but that doesn't mean I can't," the dark-haired man hissed, holding the freshly-sharpened pencil threateningly. Lavi cringed away from it, his face showing the horror that just weeks before, he'd been too afraid to let slip.

"Of course, of course," he replied, raising his hands in surrender. "But that doesn't mean you don't need to learn the new alphabet. C'mon, it'll be fun-like a game!" He smiled broadly, but when he took in his lover's appearance, all he saw was a snarl.

"Take this seriously, baka usagi."

Braving the terrifying Yuu-chan monster, Lavi reached forward and stilled the other man's hands. Then, using his forward momentum, he placed a soft peck on Yuu's cheek.

"I am taking this seriously." There was a pregnant pause as the Japanese man considered this. "But really, if you think of it as a game, you may learn quicker."

"Unlike you," Yuu began coldly, "I learn well from discipline alone."

"You suck at languages, don't you?" Lavi asked quietly.

Yuu fumed inwardly, Lavi could see that through his eyes, but the man was unable to say anything. It was probably true. While he could speak several languages, probably only the first had come easily to him.

"Listen, I'm sure your fine motor skills are perfectly adept, so let's start with the alphabet." Lavi leaned forward and kissed his lover. He got a scowl in response, but his chest felt rather buoyant as he began instructing the other man.

In the two weeks that passed, the men barely left their room, emerging only to dump their chamberpots and to eat. Most of the other third class voyagers left them alone, and the second and first class travelers were more than willing to ignore their very existence. There were times when Lavi saw Yuu bristling at this (he was probably used to the utmost respect that came with being an Exorcist), but he'd ushered the man away immediately. Being a Bookman usually meant keeping a low head, especially when traveling across a potentially deadly medium.

While their boring days passed, Lavi taught Yuu everything he could, and though the other man had trouble constructing each character at first, he'd come a long way. Yuu still had trouble with the less-used letters, but he was growing to learn them very quickly. Already, he'd finished up the first three lessons of the grammar guidebook entrusted to Lavi by the Bookmen and was working diligently on the fourth. Never before had Lavi seen the other man so intensely concentrated-not even when practicing swordplay or when meditating. His brow was cast in an immutable furrow, his eyes forever flowing between the book and the leather-bound notebook he was scrawling in. If it was possible, his fingers were stained a darker black than Lavi's had ever achieved.

A deep bellow of a horn called their approach to Boston Harbor, which seemed to split the ends of Yuu's long black hair. Ink spilled everywhere, causing Lavi to giggle, but he choked it back as he approached the Japanese man.

"Let me help," he said softly, dearly hoping that the amused smile couldn't be heard in his voice. With quick movements, he rescued the textbook from the dark lagoon the desk had become and sopped up the mess. "I've done that a million times."

Yuu's body was very close and very warm, and in a moment, a second set of hands was aiding his attempt not to get charged with property damage. Lavi stopped moving. He wasn't supposed to feel anything, especially not now, but his face was burning, his arms were trembling, and he very much wanted time to stand still for a moment. When Yuu stood up straight, Lavi wrapped his arms around the man's waist and nuzzled into the back of his neck. Yuu had never grown taller than him (a point of frustration for the Japanese man and a point of endless amusement for Lavi). Brushing aside the hair in his way, he leaned in to kiss the spot his forehead had just vacated. Yuu shuddered but leaned back.

They stood there for a moment, with Lavi tilting his head every once in a while to kiss around Yuu's neck. He never went further, never knew if he had permission to do so, but they stayed still until another loud, echoing blast from the horn announced that they'd made port.

By that time, of course, ink had dripped all over the floor.

They left in a great hurry, trying to avoid the extra fine. Carrying their chests behind them, the two men edged casually into the small mob of disembarking First and Second Class people. Once down the gangway, they marched into Boston with the authority of two proud Exorcists on a mission.

"Just like old times, huh, Yuu?" Lavi said, smiling.

"Che. Only you would think that," Yuu replied, but the redhead saw that the grumpy frown was as fake as any emotion Lavi had once affected. Once on the dock, the two quickly made their way to the main street, hoping to find a nearby inn. As luck would have it, there were three immediately in sight. One looked rather rundown, and it was that one that Lavi pointed out to his companion.

"And you want to go in there why?" The Japanese man replied, eying the sign with a haughty expression. Patting the man on the shoulder, Lavi smiled.

"The most interesting stories will be there, Yuu, and we have a budget to keep. Bookmen don't exactly make much money-the organization gives you a small allowance for food and shelter, but when I say small, I mean nearly non-existent. So in addition to actually getting closer to the truth, we also get the added luxury of lumpy mattresses and poor meals." He patted Yuu one more time and then pushed open the door to the small inn. A bell rang as he entered, and within moments, a skeletally thin woman was greeting him.

She was maybe a few years younger than the two travelers, perhaps around eighteen or twenty, but when she spoke, she sounded even younger.

"Welcome! What can I do for you?" She asked, gesturing with spindly fingers to both the redhead and his lover.

"Do you have any rooms available?" Lavi asked, lowering his voice in pitch so that he sounded a bit gruff, menacing. He shifted his balance so that he walked a bit more like a sailor, with a lot more swagger and a lot less efficiency.

His guise paid off, for the young woman smiled coyly at him and responded in the positive.

"How about a room with two beds?" He specified, and the hostess just nodded emphatically. "Then I'll take that for the next three nights, along with meals, if that's alright." The hostess smiled and attempted a curtsy (which didn't really work out; it was obvious she'd never been schooled in manners) before running off to a much dumpier woman with unruly hair and a fierce scowl.

They were taken to the second floor and shown their room. It was sparse and empty, save for the two beds and a single nightstand between them. The curtains that hung from the tiny window were tattered and yellowed. There was a hole in the wall that joined theirs to the adjacent room where light and sound slowly filtered through. Nothing much was to be heard, although Lavi thought he could hear the faint but distinctive timbre of a penny whistle. More prevalent were the feet pounding on the floorboards enough to make them squeak. Next to him, Yuu grimaced but remained silent. They'd both been in worse conditions, and neither of them was in a high enough position to complain anymore. Setting their bags and chests down, they both sighed and looked at one another.

"Let's move the beds together," Lavi suggested. Yuu's grimace turned into something that might have been a smile, and he helped rearrange the furniture. Come morning, they'd have to return the beds to normal, but for now, they could let them be.

They kissed briefly, tenderly, and then Yuu went down to grab them both dinner. Once he'd returned, Lavi reached into his bag and produced a wedge ("to keep the idiots out," he explained, and Yuu told him that it didn't work, seeing as the redhead was still in the room). Though it was only early evening, after they ate, they were both too exhausted from traveling to do much more than huddle up together under the covers and pass out.

The next morning passed in peaceful, non-rocking bliss, though for the first few moments before he returned to full awareness, Yuu felt as though he was still on the damned seacraft and ready to vomit at the next large wave to sway the boat. He'd gotten over seasickness long ago, so it was only in his dreams that the rocking sensation turned into real nausea. After fastidiously removing himself from their den of blankets (damned Bookman, hogging them all), he moved swiftly across to do the necessaries. Ignoring the dim rumbling in his gut, he returned to the bed, where he just as meticulously reincorporated himself into the mess and Bookman's arms. Though he tried to remain stoic outwardly (not that anyone would be able to see his expression anyway), inwardly he was just a little satisfied. He had Lavi back. They were traveling together. No, he didn't trust the man, not after all the shit he'd put him through, but he knew that ignoring the feelings wouldn't make them go away. It was weird, he reflected as he sank further back into Bookman's warm chest, not trusting the person he loved.

Their previous relationship was broken, smashed to tatters. But that didn't mean it couldn't be rebuilt. Trust was something Lavi-Bookman-whatever could regain... if he didn't do anything stupid again. Their feelings were currently acting like a bridge, and though earlier mistakes had blown massive holes into it, destroying trust and faith and adding a good deal of bitterness, the structure had not fallen, leaving a framework for them to repair. In time, perhaps it could even become better.

Sighing, he decided he'd done enough emotional examination and prodded the redhead awake.

"Muskets don't wheeze," the man declared, springing back into awareness and off the mattress in one go. A finger pointed to the wooden beams of the ceiling while the sheets fell down around his feet. For a moment, Yuu smirked, as he thought it would be amusing if Lavi would trip and fall flat on on his face. Instead, he swayed mightily on the spot before finding his center of balance.

"Idiot," he muttered, walking over to the silly rabbit and ruffling his hair affectionately, scowling all the while, lest the idiot forget that Yuu was still angry at him. Just a little.

"What time is it?" Lavi said blearily. He looked ragged, like a worn-out doll from a six-year-old's toy chest, like he'd been through too much with too few repairs.

"It's a quarter past seven," Yuu replied, sounding a little stiff, even to his own ears. Cautiously, he wrapped an arm around Lavi's waist. He didn't miss the pleased smile that wormed its way onto the other man's face.

"Then it's time to get going. You stay here and study the language and I'll go down and see what I can learn about the conflict in Cuba." Lavi made an odd little oozing turn as he made for his traveling trunk and removed his clothes for the day, but the Japanese man didn't comment on it. He'd seen Lavi during many mornings, and he knew that it was best to just let the rabbit bumble his way into wakefulness. It was... endearing, perhaps, to watch him wobble. He nodded sharply, feeling determined to tackle yet another lesson on the bizarre grammar of the Bookman's language.

Eventually, the angry bellows of his hollow stomach reached a pitch and frequency that even Kanda Yuu could not ignore, and he made his way down the screeching wooden steps and into the tavern that constituted the first floor.

The bar area was surprisingly crowded, so looking for an unoccupied table was more of a challenge than he had anticipated. It was loud, too, not as boisterous as the cafeteria at the Order would get on occasion, but still loud. The townspeople and the sailors who had made port were riled up about something inconsequential.

"Yeah, well, it's just disgustin' how those Spaniards are trying to keep those Cubans all under their control. I think we should definitely send more of our men over there to help them rebels out. It's just plain American. Hell, we gotta get them back for the Maine!" There was a stocky, bearded man in the corner, surrounded by a large group of almost-drunkards. The man was old and had spent many obviously trying years out at sea and had earned the respect of the men hanging on his every word like little puppies.

Yuu sat at his mercifully empty table and watched in amusement as the over-zealous patriots shouted back and forth with each other, every new voice trying to out-"American" the last. It was all pointless in Yuu's opinion. As he saw it, war was hell, no matter what side-or island-you were on, and bystanders had no room to have opinions on things that they would never see or be affected by directly. It made his blood boil at how these people could just blindly accept the slogans and war-mongering that they were fed through their newspapers. It didn't take a genius-or a Bookman-to see that.

"Well, I heard that Mr. Roosevelt was gonna take his boys over there and finish the Spaniards off for good!" Another voice popped in to join the now raucous noise.

"Yeah! Remember the Maine, to Hell with Spain! We can't let them imperial bastards stop the spread of Freedom!" Those words were met with another round of cheers. Everyone, it seemed, was getting into the fervor. In the midst of the patriotic frenzy, Yuu's food had gone cold. Thinking he had heard enough, the Japanese man headed back upstairs to finish studying.

Hours later, Lavi returned, looking more worn than he had when he'd left. His face was pallid and both his eyes drooped. Each step was more of a wavering shuffle, resulting in a scraping, dragging sound that filled the room quite annoyingly. Seeing as it was well past midnight, Yuu understood why Lavi might be so tired, but this was a little over the top, even for the rabbit. Without want, worry slipped easily into his chest, leaving him with a weighted, uncomfortable feeling. His own steps sounded muted in comparison to Bookman's, but they were still audible in the exhausted silence of the room.

Patting Bookman on the head, Yuu led the other man to the bed, removing his shoes and kissing his hand when it came to the Japanese man's cheek. Though he was upset, there was still an underlying tenderness that he could not eschew from his heart. Gently pushing Lavi into a laying position, he leaned forward himself and came to rest parallel to the redhead.

"Are you alright?" He finally asked, speaking quietly in case Lavi had a headache. From the way the other man flinched and screwed his eyes, he was correct in his assumption. He turned so that he was lying facing Lavi, and with a light, brushing pressure, he began to knead away what tension he could.

"No," Lavi groaned, turning and sliding further down the bed in a seemingly instinctive manner. The movement merited a better angle for Yuu's fingers, which in turn made his massage more soothing.

"How bad was your day?" The Japanese man asked after several minutes, during which he had moved his fingers from Lavi's forehead and down to his outrageously tense neck. The redhead seemed to revive somewhat with each passing moment, but he still seemed deflated somehow. Bookman didn't answer his question for a long while, seeming content to just let it hang in the air like a forgotten kettle left over a waning fire.

"Americans are jackasses," Lavi finally uttered, and he sounded so thoroughly defeated and exhausted that Yuu decided to take pity on him.

He kissed the other man's forehead, trailing down the path his hands had just taken, down to his neck and then to his shoulders and collarbone. Clinging, needy hands pulled his face upward so that he was nose-to-nose with Bookman, and suddenly it seemed very important that they should kiss. From the glint in Lavi's one working eye, he shared the sentiment wholeheartedly.

It was soft, soft like the embrace of a fluffy towel after a particularly warm bath, or like the smooth glide of Mugen into its hilt. But it was good, just like the clean feeling after that same trip to the baths, just like the satisfaction of knowing that each time he sheathed Mugen, he grew stronger.

And he was still strong. He may have softened over the years, but he was still capable of being deadly.

So he kissed back. Long and hard and maybe a little forceful, but it certainly perked Lavi up.

The schooner, Lavi reflected, was tiny. Fast, yes, but in comparison to the great barge they'd traveled to Boston with, it was absolutely minuscule. It had only two masts, fore and aft, whereas many of the other vessels in the harbor had many, many more. Having traveled by boat many times, Lavi knew that their little schooner was average for its type, but he still couldn't help but think that perhaps it would have been better to take a larger ship. The captain had told him they were staying close to shore, though, so he supposed that perhaps the Bookmen had known what they were doing after all.

The rocking motion was a bit excessive. Lavi glanced to his left and caught Yuu looking distinctly green. The schooner was lower to the waves, which caused a more lilting pace for the small vessel. The redhead, too, was getting nauseous, if he was honest with himself. He took a deep breath of the salty air and turned from the rail. He didn't want to egg on his impulse to purge.

The small vessel was the perfect environment for picking up all sorts of interesting rumors from the sailors and from the small number of passengers aboard. But by the middle of their second day, Lavi had already exhausted all interesenting bits of information, and one could only stare at the waves and off into space for so long before it became impossible to sit still.

And Yuu was no fun, seeing as he actually still had work to do, and most of that work required hard concentration, so when he was finally finished, his brain was so frazzled that he wanted to do nothing but lie down and sleep it off. Shrugging and standing so that he could stretch his sore muscles, Lavi decided he would go down below deck and check on the Japanese man's progress.

As he had been for the past few weeks, Yuu sat at a small oak desk that had been so kindly provided in their room, scribbling away at another difficult translation. It didn't look like the dark-haired man had noticed his entrance. That was good. Cautiously, he stepped around to the other side of the desk, placing himself behind the other man. As a Bookman, he had to know this language as well, for many times he was required to look information up in the archives. Watching Yuu form the characters that made up a bizarre (yet grammatically correct) sentence was perhaps too alluring, and once again, Lavi had trouble sitting still.

He wanted to commit this scene to memory, let it soak in so deeply into his brain that nothing could stop him from remembering the straining movements of Yuu's shoulders as he wrote. But it was like his mind couldn't keep focused on one thing at a time. His eyes kept jumping from the ceiling and the peculiar hole that seemed to peer right out onto the deck to the tiny pebble the was rolling in time with the ships pitching, or to that loose strand of hair Yuu would repeatedly push out of the way as he worked. It was infuriating.

Out of desperation, the redhead tried one of the variety of methods that had always kept his fidgeting at bay. First, he tried tapping his foot, but that was loud and only increased his desire to move around. When Yuu made an angry snort, he tried drumming a tune with his fingers, but that resulted in a loud curse as the wood had splintered slightly from wear and had decided to lodge one of its grains under his fingernail. Finally, with a great, heaving sigh, he got up and threw himself into his hammock. The only problem was that the hooks from which the fabric was slung squeaked with each movement.

Looking over to the desk, it was obvious that Yuu was more than annoyed by his intrusion and noise. Lavi could see the tension radiating from his shoulders like tiny waves of heat. The redhead managed to still the squeaking just in the nick of time. He breathed a tiny sigh of relief as the dark-haired began to move again, the scratching sound of his pen against the paper filling the room.

While his own relationship with Yuu was important, it wasn't the only thing he had to be worried about, he thought. Putting his foot on the ground to still any instinctive movement, he thought of Cuba and the dangers that would most likely stare them straight in the face the second they were off the boat. Naturally, war was dangerous, though Yuu had proven that he could handle those hazards time and again. Lavi, too, was adept at avoiding fire-you had to be in order to survive as an Exorcist. His entire life, he'd trained in the art of not getting killed. Back when he was little, Bookman had told him there were only two important things in the world: history in the making and staying alive to see it.

The Bookmen did not live just to record wars. Actually, they usually wrote down economic conditions and studied bizarre creatures. Sparingly few were sent out into war zones, and those who did tended to be treated as heroes when they returned. Lavi patted the ground almost tenderly as he remembered his first greeting back at the Bookmen's Headquarters.

It was nothing like the Order. Not cheerful, not homely. Just... empty, even though it was full. The lights didn't glow with warmth; any luminosity it emitted was cold, like the gloom of an old dungeon. Lavi had felt trapped in the place, though no bars were to be found. It had more to do with the feeling that inside, he could never be let free. All emotions and expressions were locked firmly inside his chest, never to be readmitted to the world. With the conspicuous lack of laughter, Headquarters seemed dry and maybe a little lonely. Each step echoed more than it should have, and no discussion took place above a raised whisper.

The feeling was grave. Nothing like the Order's Headquarters had been. The Order, while it had its flaws, had been lively and welcoming. In the Bookman Headquarters, there was nothing but cold and fear. All the richness of living had been leeched away, but there was no salt to stopper the drain.

The scratching had stopped. It was then that Lavi realized that as he had been deep in thought, his body had betrayed him and he had been slowly and repetitively rocking back and forth. He attempted to still his movements as fast as he could, but in his haste, he over-corrected and went tumbling onto the floor, the fabric having been ripped off of the hooks.

Yuu sighed, and Lavi heard him set down his pen and maneuver his chair so that he was facing the mess on the floor.

"Stop," the man hissed, standing up and stalking over. The redhead blinked in confusion. Yuu's jaw was rigid, his eyebrows tense and knit together. His hair dangled downward like great obsidian stalactites, rocking back and forth as the Japanese man shook. But what was most shocking was the instinctive bid Yuu's hands were making for his left hip, on which his scabbard usually hung.

Why was Yuu so mad?

Lavi gaped, lips flapping like a stunned fish.

"Wh-what did I do?" He asked, and his head throbbed as he finally produced a sound.

The dangerous blaze in Yuu's eyes flashed in threat, as if silently imploring Lavi to stop being a dense idiot.

"I didn't mean to fall!" He shouted in apology. The noise made his head ache.

"It's your very presence, idiot! You just keep... moving, and it's distracting as all hell. I'm supposed to be helping you, but that's hard to do when you can't keep your damned body still!" Yuu panted heavily for a moment. His voice, if it was possible, could have flattened Lavi's hair to the floor. As it was, the volume had formed white-hot spots across his vision. His head hurt.

"I was being quiet," Lavi insisted in a mumble, and looked away meekly.

"You were being loud as-FUCK!" Yuu had pounded his hand into the hook (somehow still clinging to the wall) that had once held Lavi's hammock. He'd probably tried to hit the wall for emphasis, but that endeavor obviously hadn't gone smoothly.

"Here." He got up, or at least tried to, but apparently attempting to help his lover as he nursed his hand didn't help the situation very much.

Yuu sat back down in his chair, nursing a slightly punctured appendage and scowling as Lavi tried to apologize. It didn't work. The dark-haired man just shook his head and glared until the redhead stopped spluttering like the engine of an automobile.

"Just... leave the room. I don't need you hovering and... being you."

"And what's wrong with that?" Lavi exclaimed, apology forgotten.

Yuu gave him a look that could possibly pass for incredulity, though perhaps there was more meaning beneath it.

"What's wrong with being me?" The redhead repeated.

"It's infuriating!"

"So you're saying I infuriate you?"

"Yes."

"Fine, I'll go, then," Lavi said tightly, turning on his heel and walking swiftly from the hold. He heard a sigh follow him out just before he closed the door.

A/N: Hey, guys! Miss us? Yeah, we missed us too. But hey! We've finally made a posting deadline. So this is both for sekitx2 and Lavi's birthday. Happy birthday, Lavi. :) And congrats, sekitx2, for winning the contest we had last summer. Some of you may wonder why we haven't updated HtSaL in a while. Well, it's because we got a bit stuck/bored on it. So we decided to do Venia (which is "fogiveness" in Latin) in the meantime, and we realized that we could do it for Lavi's b-day. Don't worry, we haven't abandoned it. In other news, our RL has been a bit hectic this summer, culminating in much drama and in us dating.

El Carrao = The Limpkin. Oooooh, points for originality! XPPP The limpkin, for those uneducated souls among our readers, is a bird that is indigenous to Cuba. It's kinda cute. Look it up on wiki.