>part three<
�Hey! Cheer up! They found Mr. Morgan�s body this morning and it appears he was ripped apart by some unidentifiable animal�So, what kind of goodies are you going to take the Count this time?�
�Send someone else.�
Jill nearly tumbled off his desk, �What?!�
�I give up,� he cradled his chin in his hands and sighed. �As long as I�ve been involved in this investigation�the whole thing�s been a waste of time,� staring at the stack of papers on his desk, he didn�t see the knowing glint that entered Jill�s eyes. �I think it�s time I move on.�
She placed her hands on her hips, �What are you two fighting about now? Eh, no matter, just take the Count some fruit tarts or something and I�m sure he�ll forgive you!� She mussed Leon�s blonde hair then nearly fell from the desk again as he shot up.
�DROP IT!� Noise in the office seemed to die away as all eyes turned to him, but Leon didn�t appear to care. He stomped out from under everyone�s waiting attention without a stray look around, his face reddening with rage and not embarrassment.
�Leon! Wait!!� Jill took a few steps after him but ceased as a hand shot out and grasped her elbow.
�Thank you, Jill, for your concern�But could I speak to the Detective alone a moment?� Count D stood quietly, his pale hands clasped before him. Jill stared after Leon�s direction a spare second then nodded.
�Just�he�s really upset, so please take everything he says with a grain of salt.�
D smiled, small and appreciative. �Always.�
He found him in the Lounge, staring blindly out the window with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He didn�t count the minutes that passed before Leon finally noticed him, he simply stood by and waited for the fury that would come.
Leon�s eyes slowly came to pseudo-life, and then just as slowly his head turned. He glared numbly at D then turned back to the window as if he couldn�t care any less. One more puff on the cigarette and then he studied it, held it as if he expected it to talk.
�Stay the fuck away.� He spoke, voice coldly platonic.
The Count very nearly flinched. Leon, Leon please�Yell, scream at me, I can�t bear this silence!! D�s inner torment manifested on the surface only in the momentary closing of his eyes. �Leon, you must listen to me---�
�I�m sick of listening to you.� D once again paused at the American�s tone, it�s bitterness nothing like the quick-temper he had grown accustomed to. It still managed to throw him off. But he gathered those powers of patience he possessed and continued, chancing a small step forward.
�Detective, please allow me to speak.� The strain must have become a tint to his words because Leon�s head cocked to the side, and then he smiled, something small and malicious.
�Speak then, your words will still mean nothing,� and then he spun around, eyes blazing to life. �You talk-talk-talk so all the time, but of all you say�YOU SAY NOTHING! I think you get off on leading me around, but it doesn�t matter anymore because I don�t give a shit! You do whatever you do at that damn PetShop of yours, as of now�I�m off the case!�
D rushed forward and stopped short of taking up Leon�s hands. �No, Leon, you cannot do that! All the time you invested in compiling a case against me, all that you�ve taught me and all that you�ve learned�You can�t give it all up now over one kiss!! Leon, you can�t!�
�Stop,� he shoved away from the Count, �calling me Leon, damn you!�
D�s mouth opened, then closed. He nodded solemnly. �Very well, Detective.�
Leon appeared to grit his teeth against further outbursts, shoving his hands almost violently into his jean pockets he stalked towards the door. �Stay the fuck away,� he repeated as a parting gesture.
�No.�
Leon froze, allowing D the time to catch up with him. His hand rose as if to touch the American�s sleeve, but Leon backed away. The Count drew his hand back and held it to his breast, his expression almost hurt. Leon glared holes into him.
�Understand this, Detective,� his voice hardened, �If you do not listen to me you *will* be sorry.�
�Too late for that, isn�t it.� Leon brushed past D, making it clear that this time was for good. The Count let him go, raised his hand to his head as if to soothe a rampant headache. He�ll calm down. He will.