Disclaimers: All characters belong to rightful owners.
Story concieved by Lee.


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"Murder, is it now?" Kein nearly laughed, and dropped his twin a very sarcastic wink. "Always knew you'd see the error of your ways in the end, Capulet.

"But of course," he replied, barbs working themselves back into his tone quite readily, "I have absolutely nothing better to do-- aside from attempting to get one goddamn cup of coffee-- than trail around after your pathetic, mascara-dripping, boi-chasing neurotic little ass. I mean, _I_ don't have any band to while the time away with, no groupies to hang off of-- so all I do is run a company! I do manage to keep fairly busy, even so-- but then, I don't parcel all my responsibilities on assistants. Too bad; if I did, I could devote more time to Capulet-watching..." At this point, one could even imagine his sneer was threatening to crawl off his face and become its own lifeform.

And that poor woman in between them, who had only come in because of a craving for hash browns and maybe a fruit parfait, took an unsteady step back. Were these really those two businessmen...?

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"Yeah and maybe if you got the stick out of your ass, you'd actually live your life a little! I _do_ run my company, Kein, but I'm not eager to feel fifty before I can legally drink."

He cast a glance at the woman between them who stared at the conflict, mouth agape. "Geez lady, take a picture it'll last longer."

He turned back to the register with a loud "HMPH!" Luckily enough, his food was ready. He grabbed the plastic tray and started back to his table, pausing next to Kein long enough to slam his foot with all his might onto the young Montague's own foot. His tactics were a bit childish, but he was angry and, therefore, entitled to his temper tantrums.

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Oh, that _was_ childish. And since Kein was only used to thinking rationally when verbally sparring someone, the sneak attack made him lash out in a purely instinctive way-- namely, shoving Kisoku just about as hard as possible.

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Kisoku was immediately thrown off balance by the shove. He staggered forward, and in a desperate attempt to not smoosh the apple pies, he brought the tray over his head as quickly as possible. The end result of this action was that the contents of the tray went flying off of it and in the direction of the other businessman.

"AIIIIE!" Kisoku shrieked loudly before landing face first on the floor of McParadise. This was not his day.

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Kein's senses had returned to him perhaps a milisecond after his hands made contact, and reminded him that yes, indeed, Kisoku was carrying an awful lot of things that he _would_ be perverse enough to throw, even if it meant sacrificing his own balance. Of course, that was Kein at his most paranoid, but even so, the prompt ducking saved him from most everything but a splash of scalding hot coffee on the scalp.

Clenching his teeth against that jot of pain, Kein growled and fished in his pocket. God, Kisoku was his own one-man disaster area, wasn't he? It was time-- more than time-- to get the fuck away. He came up with a crumpled twenty and ten, both of which he dropped on the counter in front of the stunned teenage worker. "Give him another batch of-- whatever the fuck it was he had," Kein growled, then spun on his heel and tried to powerwalk out. More than that bastard deserved, for sure... and just thinking about Kisoku's bewildered reaction brought his smirk back in full force. Thirty dollars? Cheap at the price. There was little in life more satisfying than leaving that asshole speechless-- and sprawled on the floor, no less.

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He should've known it would never work out. Lukas could never like someone as stupid and poor and short as him; he was obviously in love with the rich, witty, and glamorous Kisoku.

The boy slowed down when he heard Lukas' voice, wiped at his face before turning around to face humiliation. "Aaah, Lukas... Shouldn't you go back to Kisoku...?"

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Lukas winced inwardly upon seeing Arvel's tear-stained face, and mentally cursed himself for being an idiot. Forcing a reassuring grin to his lips, he went over to the younger boy, draping a companionable arm over Arvel's shoulders before leading the young Southerner over to the side of the sidewalk out of the main flow of traffic. "Kiso's a big boy-- even if he *act* like a five year old, I think he can take care of himself for a few minutes while we have us a little talk, eh?"

Gently turning the younger boy around to face him, the Cajun offered his young companion an apologetic smile. "Me 'n Kiso... well... it's hard to explain but we got kinda a... strange... friendship-- to say the least..." he added with a wry chuckle. "What you saw in there wasn't *really* flirtin', petite... that was just... us bein' us-- pushin' each other's buttons... tryin' to get a rise outta each other, that's all."

Shaking his head, the auburn haired youth laughed softly, "We both a couple of stubborn assholes, an' we never know when 'nough's enough... but that's all there was to it. This... date... even if we go through with it, it won't be nothin' but us hangin' out together like we always do... prob'ly spend the evenin' gettin' on each other's nerves... whatever happens, it won't be nothin'... romantic, 'cause trust me, Kiso 'n me just don't feel that way 'bout each other. ...Okay?"

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Kisoku heard the drum of Kein's footsteps next to him, and he watched as his twin sped away in slow motion before his eyes. He wasn't thinking rationally at this point. All he knew was that his instincts were telling him that Kein was NOT allowed to leave with this last word.

With superhuman speed, he sprang up to his feet and did what he usually did in situations where he was blinded by rage. He slipped off his right shoe and chucked it at the back of Kein's head with the full force of his fury.

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"Oh..." Arvel chewed his lower lip, "Really...?" He began to lean against Lukas, but stopped himself when he realized what he was doing. "You don't gotta lie to spare my feelin's. I've been rejected afore. Fact, when I was in Middle School this guy I had a crush on punched me inna face when I told 'im."

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"Really." Lukas replied, smiling down at Arvel. "Kiso just had a bug up his ass over that whore he struck out with, so he was just engagin' in his favorite passtime of Bait the Cajun. I *shoulda* just hauled off and knocked him ass over teacups into the middle of next week... but... well... I decided to just load his ass up for once by playing along..." A somewhat bemused expression crossed the musician's face as he scratched at the back of his head, "'Course... *that* kinda backfired on me... I never expected him to actually take me up on my bluff..."

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"A'ight," Arvel attempted a shaky smile, "Thank you. You're such a nice guy," He sighed dreamily. Lukas really was absolutely _perfect: Handsome, charming, sweet, intelligent, talented... everything a boy could ask for and more. Of course, he didn't consider himself to be much of a match for someone so perfect: Scrawny, stupid, poor... and people weren't exactly falling over themselves to date him. Thus he was grateful that Lukas was even talking to him, let alone taking him to the dance. Could anyone be any luckier?

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THUNK.

Kein's head went forward a little with the force of impact, and his vision went blurry. For a second. Until he whirled around again and strode back to punch the other in the jaw.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" He bellowed, finally pushed past the edge. "Throw your fucking _shoe_ at me, you cunt? What the hell? Strike another blow against the evil Montague empire! You fucking ignorant _asshole_!" It was almost absurd enough to laugh at. "Christ, were you _always_ this childish? This absolutely pathetic? Fuck, what the hell was I _thinking_?!"

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Kisoku Capulet had never been in a lot of fist fights for many reasons. First of all, he usually had at least one bodyguard to prevent the more violent of society from getting near him. Second, every time he did get into a fight it always ended badly for him. Most important of all, he had never had much of a taste for violence since his childhood. Needless to say, when Kein threw a punch, it connected.

The young Capulet fell to the tiled floor of McParadise, his limbs sprawling every which way. He lay this way for a second, his body limp and lifeless, as he registered what had just happened. His jaw ached, and he expected it to be at the very least bruised (if not swollen) within a few hours. His senses grasped onto the slightest twinge of a coppery taste swimming in his saliva.

There was a moment in which his brain processed this latest development: blood.

Being a Capulet, he wasn't as familiar with blood as many other businessmen, but he did remember blood. It was always in the back of his mind, haunting him like some half-waking nightmare of a deeply repressed memory. Blood. His blood.

And a Montague leering over him. *Arrogant bastard,* a voice in his mind muttered darkly.

He rose to his feet, shakily at first, but soon, he stood up straight in rigid defiance of Kein Montague. The muscles in his cheeks pumped furiously as he spit his blood right in the face of his brother.

"...yes Kein. What the hell were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking to start shooting your mouth off at me and NOT expect it to turn to this? It always does. Now, you got your hit. It's the Montague equivalent of getting the last laugh, so please do me a favor and fuck off."

He hated fist fights. They always ended badly for him, and for once, Kisoku knew when to back off... before Kein got serious.

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Sui was bored. This was not a phenomenon he was used to, so it annoyed him. Perhaps he shouldn't have allowed Dante the day off. He ground his teeth, shoving hands into pockets sullenly. He noted two red-heads off to one side, both cute; the little one reminded him of a girl he'd raped once.

He continued on down the street, searching for prey; someone cute, unsuspecting, and alone would do nicely. No luck so far. The pimp harrumphed, flinging himself onto a park bench. Where were all the pretty, emotionally fragile things? Again he wished for Dante, or, perhaps, Lem. He could have refused the customer. Still, he didn't want to run all his business off by greedily keeping his pets to himself.

He looked at his watch. Lem should be done by now. The pimp picked up his cell and called the boy.

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"Why thanks," Kein snarled, disregarding the drops of blood sliding down his cheek. _Unbelievable_ the lengths that pathetic bitch of a Capulet would go to in order to get his last word in... so Kein took him up on the offer and snapped out a sharp left jab to Kisoku's stomach. Viciously, he whispered, "You make me so _sick_..."

He wasn't lying. Already, he was squinting a little against the pain of a pounding migraine, and as he walked away he came very close to praying he wouldn't be called back again. He didn't want to deal with Kisoku again-- for the rest of his life, as far as he was concerned.

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Kisoku felt a sickening lurch in his stomach, as if he were about to lose the meager lunch of coffee, mixed greens, and cigarettes that he has indulged in during his staff meeting. He doubled over and after a dizzying moment of disorientation, gasped for the breath that had been effectively knocked out of him.

"You make me so _sick_..."

It had spoken in whispers, but to Kisoku, it had been as harsh as the blow to his stomach. As he cradled his delicate midsection, he found himself wondering, for what certainly wasn't the first time, how people could find it so easy to drift apart. He had spoiled a nice meal between friends and dug himself a deeper hole with Kein. Was he only good for driving people apart?

***

Nazoko Sumeragi had heard the buzz of gossip before the first blows had been dealt. She cursed as she sprang from the limosine that had only found space to park around the block from the McParadise where the Capulet-Montague rumble was rumored to be taking place.

"Please don't let them get photos. Please don't let them get photos." She chanted under her breath, grimacing as she walked past the Montague heir, who looked worse for the wear. She might've said something particularly nasty to him, if she wasn't well aware that he was capable of standing up to Kisoku. If he looked so worn out, she couldn't even imagine what state her cousin was in.

She caught a glimpse of one of Kisoku's friends outside, talking to a younger boy just outside of the McParadise entrance. *Note to Self: Never EVER leave Kisoku alone. No matter what company he's in. He will always find some way to worm around watchful eyes and make an ass of himself.*

That train of thought was cut off when she skidded into the McParadise and saw her cousin doubled over in pain. She rushed to his side, immediately doing what she could to cover his face and prevent the media sharks from lapping up the tabloid material the second that they found out about it. She ran a soothing hand over his back. "Hey, we have to get you out of here, okay?"

Kisoku lifted his head to look up at his cousin and protector, and he could see in her reaction to his swollen eye and jaw that she was most unpleased. However, despite the fact that she was fully ready to carry him kicking and screaming out of the restaurant if need be, he stood up and said, "I just need to take care of one thing first."

He went back to the much shocked girl at the register, picking up the tray of replacement food that Kein had purchased. "Sorry about all this. I'm really sorry."

He dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter before carrying the tray over to Estelle and Jeremy. He wasn't about to let them get a word in edgewise--let alone a sensible question--about his battered appearance and the fight that had just occurred. "Look guys, I gotta run. The toy in the happy meal is for Arvel. Peace offering for me being such a jerk. See you later. Enjoy the coffee and stuff!"

He nodded to Nazoko, pulling on his sunglasses and ducking his head as the two scurried out of the McParadise and into the Capulet limo as quickly as was possible. And as was often the case when he got into a particularly nasty fight with Kein, Kisoku burried his face in Na-chan's lap and proceeded to bawl his eyes out.

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"God, that smells good." Sammy almost moaned as the mingled scent of bread and sweets drifted out the door to him. Inhaling deeply of this, he felt hungry for the first time in quite a while and he was suddenly quite tempted to just buy the whole shop to the shelves. A little splurging wouldn't hurt anything, right?

"So, what can I buy the lovely lady?" He asked as he turned a wide grin to Lucia. Maybe if they both stuffed themselves to the seams, then the rest of the day would be lost in a sugar-and-carb coma. Nice thought, that. "All of it's on me!"

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It was a struggle for Para to stay serious as Darran turned the insanely cute puppy-dog eyes on her, but she did make a rather valiant effort to continue to look stern. Still, he did have incredibly nice eyes... which, she noted, were dancing with something that didn't look like meek submission at all.

"You heard me." She tried to stated firmly, but she was rather afraid that there was a tremble of laughter under her tone. Well, nothing to do, now, but to plow bravely onward, right? "You really shouldn't have done that!"

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"Hmmmm, how about a nice piece of that delicious devil's food cake and some tea. Oh! Y'know what you'd like? They have the BEST honey buns in the world. Sticky and sweet seems right up your alley." Lucia grinned, scanning all the many desserts on display. Normally, she was very strict about taking good care of the body that God had created. However, today it hardly seemed like He deserved any of her consideration.

"They also have tarts. How about a nice cherry tart?"

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"Oh," Darran sighed in deep and utterly feigned despondency, "In that case, I'm... not sorry..." Planting a quick kiss on the back of Para's hand, he let a grin take over his features. Could she really, truly disapprove of such a face?

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