Slowly, far too slowly, catching up on the things I owe people. I'm sorry... I'm just sorry. Things have been kind of crazy.

Anyway, this is for my dear ukelala in exchange for the cute Spamano she wrote me. It's a precursor to the "Olives and Detergent and Cat", and while it can definitely stand alone, you'll have to read ODC in order to get any sort of resolution from these two.

I hope you like it, and it was worth the wait.

Kiku was sitting on the cold, hard plastic chairs in front of the escalator, his back ramrod-straight and his hands clenched tightly in his lap. Above the escalator, a sign in English and Japanese proclaimed "Arrivals".

People came down the steps, hundreds of them, some tripping straight out the doors, others welcomed by men in suits with names like "松本"and "高山"printed on poster board signs. The luckiest of them were welcomed by others, greeted with excited bows or, on one memorable occasion, a squeal and a full-body hug. Kiku had to smile when he watched that scene; the girl who had initiated the hug was obviously a Westerner, perhaps an American, all tan skin and flying blonde hair. Her friend, pulling away from the hug quickly and blushing, nevertheless looked pleased that her guest had arrived.

Bubbling under his skin, Kiku felt the same excitement – but he'd never act on it. It was one thing for a foreigner or a teenaged girl to express themselves so physically in public. Not Kiku, though, and definitely not toward his particular guest.

He tried to imagine hugging Herakles. It was not an unpleasant image – being pressed against his wide chest, taking in the scent or olives and detergent and a little bit of the mustiness of the cats that he raised, feeling the warmth of another body seeping into his –

No. He could not let that thought flow into completion. It was inappropriate to feel that way towards a man who only thought of him as a friend.

And there he was, slouching down the escalator with a sleepy look on his face and a carry-on bag in his hand. As Kiku watched, Herakles spotted him, his face breaking out into his slow-honey smile as he raised a lazy hand in greeting.

Something about being caught with the thought of inappropriate greetings still swirling around his head caused Kiku to freeze, unable to go across to greet Herakles at all. He rose, but his body seized with his conflicting thoughts. Instead, he stood perfectly still, as Herakles crossed the airport floor.

"Er… that is… konnichiwa…" Herakles said as soon as Kiku was within hearing distance. He bowed his shaggy head in a short greeting, before quickly looking up at Kiku with a hopeful look on his face, expecting praise or correction.

Kiku allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. Herakles worked so hard to learn some of Kiku's language – although the gods knew why, why Herakles and he had ever been friends at all. Their bosses had thrown them together, and they could have left the relationship cordial and businesslike, but Herakles had not been content to let it rest, insisting he learn Japanese as soon as possible so as to be able to communicate properly.

The slow growth of their friendship had led them here, to Oosaka, on a clear and cold spring morning, a vacation of a trip that meant very little in business terms but was termed a "cultural exchange" to gain leave.

"Konnichiha, Herakles-san. Nihongo ha totemo jouzu ni natteimasu. Yokudekimashita," Kiku said softly, praising him. He told Herakles that he was becoming very good in Japanese, and to his pleasure, Herakles beamed as if he understood the phrase. They both quickly switched to English, however, the one language they both knew, and knew well, and the one they most often communicated in.

"I'm very glad to be here," Herakles told him softly as Kiku lead them out of the airport, toward where his hired car was idling. "I was told … this is peak season… for cherry blossoms."

Kiku enjoyed that, the slow, ponderous way Herakles spoke, as if every word were carefully mulled over and chosen. He never doubted the words Herakles uttered, for he knew the man had meant every one.

"This week, indeed, is the best," Kiku said politely, holding open the car door and allowing Herakles to slip inside the car, dragging his bag afterward. He was grateful the bag took up the space between them – terrified of knocking knees or awkward touching in the narrow space. "I was hoping to take you on a hanami – a viewing – some time. Would you enjoy that?"

The car started up, pulling slowly away from the airport, and Herakles pressed himself against the window, staring unabashedly at the city around them. "I'd like that… very much. Can we go… now?"

Kiku blinked in surprise, flustered. Surely Herakles would want to go back to the rooms that Kiku had prepared for him, surely he'd want some time to rest after the long flight. "Aren't you tired, Herakles-san? And, really, I have nothing prepared – I must make the sakura mochi, at least, and …" And he had a very special bottle of plum wine, because one didn't have a hanami without at least being a little tipsy, but it would be so embarrassing to mention that.

Actually, he was embarrassed all over, but Herakles' honey-smile didn't waver. "Is that… necessary? I don't want…to intrude on custom, but… I was looking forward to… seeing the flowers." He paused for a moment, looking even more thoughtful than usual. "Can we…go now, for a little while, then… come back?"

Surely Herakles had no idea what kind of power his smouldering brown eyes had on Kiku, all the earnestness and desire. What Kiku wouldn't give to be the object of that desire, rather than the subject it was being used on. Nevertheless, it was a look he was hard-pressed to resist. He suppressed a small sigh.

"Of course, Herakles-san, you are the guest, and if you'd like to see them…" He leaned forward and tapped the glass partition to gain the driver's attention. After muttering quick, polite instructions in Japanese, he sat back, watching quietly as the streets of Oosaka passed beside them.

It was very, very early in the morning, which was why the paths along the Okawa River were almost deserted. The sun was just beginning to send grey-pink light over the blossoms, and Herakles pressed his nose to the window again, slipping easily out of the car as it rolled to a stop. He stared at the trees in the same kind of lazy wonder that had taken in the city as they'd driven through it. He had such a talent, of making everything he looked at seem as if it were the most important thing in the world, in the one moment that he stared at it.

The trees had always been beautiful to Kiku, but watching Herakles standing there like a Greek statue in the grey dawn light, petals in his hair and a stunning look of wonder on his face, Kiku thought that their beauty paled just a little in comparison.

"I hope you like it," Kiku said quietly, coming up next to Herakles and standing at his side. For a long time, they were quiet, watching the sun slowly rise and slant its rays over the trees.

In the precise moment when morning broke into day, when the magic of the still, cool dawn would be lost to the bustle of a full sun and full life of a city, Herakles turned to look at Kiku. The vestiges of the wonder he had displayed still sat heavily in his gaze, and for a moment, Kiku pretended that the look of awe belonged to him, and him alone.

"Utsukushii," Herakles said, his voice barely above a whisper. Beautiful.

He leaned down and kissed Kiku's cheek. His lips were hot in the crisp, still air.

You are, too, Kiku thought, closing his eyes. Europeans and their strange ways among friends, and they had no idea what such a gesture truly meant to him. If only Herakles understood how elated such a touch made him.

He'd keep that to himself, he decided, and continued to watch the sun come up over the trees.