7 Jun 2000

Here's the next installment of Perfect Days. The last part makes more sense if you've read Primus and Secundus.

kumi

Pairing: 13x6/6x13

WARNING: YAOI - lemon in excess; sap; blatant tourism; evil relative

Perfect Days by Kat & kumiko

Part 3

The rain had stopped at 10 o'clock and by 10:45 the morning was shining and sparkling clear. It was decided that the majority of the day would be spent wandering the Old City of Kiev, the home of the botanical gardens, and known for it's charming squares, elegant buildings, and many fine bookstores. Zechs had made a point to bring his camera, wanting badly to get a photo of Treize in his native environment.

The driver had let them out at the top of the Old City, which was built on a hill, and they planned to walk down the main boulevard before finding a place for lunch.

"This brings back a lot of memories," Zechs said, smiling down at the rows of tiny shops and elegant old apartment buildings that lined the way they would walk. "Do you come here much - when you're home, I mean?"

Their hands swung so close together as they walked, and it was difficult to not grab Zechs' fingers within his. "Oh, frequently enough -- it's like a preserved beauty. Untouched by high technology, or the war."

Zechs frowned for a moment. "But - there are a lot of OZ's supporters here, aren't there? At least, I remember Admiral Huit talking about Moscow, Bremen, and Kiev all together for *some* reason. Hmm... maybe it wasn't OZ..."

"Supporters, yes, but not OZ itself -- Kiev is one of the seats of the old Nobility, along with Moscow and Bremen." /How much dare I tell him just now?/

"So, I wasn't just imagining it? There are strong ties between OZ and the nobility?"

"OZ is subsidized by the Romefeller organization," Treize said at last.

"Romefeller?" the blond said quietly. "Why does that sound familiar? Something from a long time ago..."

Treize winced inwardly, but it wasn't visible. "It will come to you with time -- don't strain for it."

Zechs thought for a moment, then smiled at his companion. "No, you're right. I'm sure I'll remember. Now let me get your photograph. Stand over there, by those flowers."

They were in the main district now and the crowds were thicker. Zechs took a couple of shots and beamed happily as Treize walked back to him. Just then, a large group of women with market baskets passed them, squeezing the two friends together for a moment and Zechs felt a wave of desire pass through him that made him feel both tender and possessive at once. Relishing the brief warmth of Treize against him he looked up at the lovely nobleman and said, "Do you have a favorite shop here, Treize?"

Treize gave a wide smile. "Yes -- do you remember how I used to read you stories, written in Russian, with the beautiful illustrations? I frequent the bookstore where I got them so long ago.

"I *do* remember those! You read some last year, I know, but... I think you brought them with you that first time we met... Do you remember the day I took you to my hiding place by the lake? The one with the wild roses growing through the bushes? You had *some* book that day - we were in there for about three hours, I think, and I kept imagining we were going to those places... the places in those beautiful pictures... What *was* that book?" Zechs said with a little frown. "I can't remember anything today."

"It's all right -- I still have them all at home; when we go back, I'll get them out. The book I had there was 'The Neverending Story'." Truly engrossing, and it always seemed different every time, if even just a little... But technology was a wonderful thing, along with the beautiful art it held.

"Mmm." Zechs was silent, walking along beside Treize but getting a bit lost in that memory of happier times. /Shouldn't go there, Zechs. That's a world that no longer exists. It was blown off the face of the Earth by the Federation.../

"Do you want to go there - to the bookstore?" Treize questioned with a smile. The sad, whimsical expression on his companion's face told him instantly what he was thinking of.

The warmth and pressure of Treize's arm against him sent a wave of happiness through Zechs (which then caused him to blush and feel shy.) "That sounds good," he said and, turning his face to the side, simultaneously smiled and bit his lower lip, in an attempt to stop smiling. /He's so incredible.../

A quiet laugh left the older man. "I'm glad you're amiable to the idea -- I'm sure we'll find some book that'll catch your eye."

"I'd like to buy one of the books with those beautiful pictures... just something lovely to look at, even if I don't understand the words." Just as he finished speaking they crossed the boulevard and stepped into the bookstore. No bell sounded, but the proprietor knew they were there.

Owl-like eyes traced their entrance, and made sure the door was closed behind them.

"[Hello, Rik',]" Treize greeted the man quietly. "[Any new story books?]"

"[Old ones, you mean,]" the elderly man said, gesturing to a shelf of well kept books, leather bound and richly engraved on the cover.

"[Yes, thank you, Rik',]" Treize uttered, turning to Zechs again. "Pick one, my friend."

Zechs went over to the bookshelf and walked slowly down its length, tilting his head slightly whenever he stopped the think about something. All of them were exquisitely done - each cover illustration made with glowing, jewel-like colors that seemed to reach out to the blond boy and draw him into the very story itself. Finally he stopped in front of one that depicted a tall and imposing tower. At its base stood a beautiful man on a horse, and he looked up at the tower's one, small window, hundreds of feet above the ground. Zechs reached a tentative hand out, and brushed the man's picture with trembling fingertips. "This one," he said quietly. "I'd like to get this one..."

The corners of Treize's eyes crinkled up in a smile as he carefully slid the book off the shelf. "Wonderful choice, my love," he purred quietly in the blond's ear. Rapunzel. /Ah, the symbolism of it,/ he mused, letting his fingers brush of Zechs' for long moments.

/That's him/ Zechs thought as a shiver of desire ran through him, sparked by the touch of those graceful fingers. He was blushing again, and couldn't meet Treize's eyes. /Don't know what's come over me today... makes it hard to breathe when he's this close./

"Are you going to buy the book, or maul it?" the proprietor questioned loudly.

"We'll take it," came Treize's decisive answer. "And look Milliard, it's even in your language."

"Oh - Treize, I'll buy it," Zechs said, finally looking up at his companion. "I want to take it with me at the end of the week."

"And you shall," Treize replied with a smile. "You shall."

Zechs got out his wallet and handed the money over to the bookstore owner. "Thank you," he said and looked back down at the book, running his fingers over it once more before handing it to the bookseller so that it could be wrapped.

While the old owner meticulously wrapped it in brown packing paper, a strong hand slid down into Zechs' back pocket, then left it, giving the pocket, now fuller than before, a gentle pat. Money. "The book is a gift, my friend. Something we can both treasure while together, and something you can remember me with when we're apart."

Zechs had jumped a little at the touch of the slender hand and now he was staring up at Treize, cheeks redder than ever. "T- Thank you... Treize. That's... that's very kind of you." As they walked out of the store, he kept his eyes on the traffic and asked, "What now?"

"Are you hungry, Milliard?" Treize asked quietly. "I know a very... discreet restaurant we could try."

If he were honest with himself, Zechs would have denied being hungry - for food. What he wished fervently (and in vain) was that they were back at the Khushrenada estate, in Treize's bedroom, behind a locked door. But since they were not, and were not likely to be in the extremely near future, he reasoned that lunch would probably be the best idea.

"Yes, that's sounds good. You lead, I'll follow."

/Someday, my friend, you will lead,/ Treize mused as he began in the right direction. It would be another few blocks until they reached the cafe... "Tell me, why did you choose the book? What drew you to it, my friend?" He wanted to call Zechs 'love', and 'Milliard', and 'lover', but couldn't -- not in public.

"Oh, I don't know..." Zechs looked down at the neatly wrapped parcel. "I think... it was that man, on the cover. He -" Zechs stopped speaking and looked off to the onion domes of a cathedral several blocks away. "He's a bit like me - he looks like he wants something so badly, and will do anything it takes to get it." They came to a traffic light and the blond boy looked up at his companion, eyes searching eyes for something that eluded him. "And he's a bit like you, too, I think," he said quietly. "You've set yourself such a huge task - to change the way the world is run - and I know that you must feel overwhelmed by it all at times. But you always keep on. You're just that kind of person."

A faint smile tugged the corners of Treize's lips. Someday, someday soon, Zechs would learn he was human. Learn the hard, painful truth about his idol -- that he was just as weary of the task as anyone would be. "People like us, Milliard, don't give up. Not until the task is finished to our satisfaction. And I do feel overwhelmed; which is why we all need to take breaks to enjoy ourselves."

Zechs continued to gaze at Treize for a brief moment more then smiled up at the tall nobleman. "And here I am being melancholy. I'm sorry. I promise to be better. Truly."

"It's all right -- you're letting it out of your system. Someday, my friend, I promise that you will be truly happy, without any shadows to cloud that fact."

Zechs smiled back, but inside he was highly doubtful of the possibility of Treize's prediction.

They had stopped in front of an exquisite door along one of the block of storefronts. It was a beautiful, richly hewed cherry wood with a large and intricately designed opaque glass panel in it that caused the lights beyond t to glow softly, but denied the pedestrian a view of anything else. On a small brass plaque next to an antique doorbell was the name of the establishment: "Zamkove".

When Treize opened the door, the inviting smells of the cafe itself wafted out, along with low conversation held among the patrons. "After you, my friend."

They weren't two steps into the entryway when a tall, distinguished-looking man with no hair, but a long mustache, glided up to them. "[Gracious me, is it really Master Treize? Oh, but - I suppose I should call you Count Khushrenada now.]" The man bowed and then seemed to beam with pride. "[Welcome back sir, how *are* you doing?]"

"[I'm doing quite well, thank you, Pohl,]" Treize smiled. "[It's so good to see that you do well in this place -- you've expanded the building, from the looks of it!]" It had been so long since he'd last seen the man, and to see that he was well, his business was prospering better than ever, was uplifting. "Pohl, this is a dear friend of mine: Zechs Marquise."

Pohl turned to the boy by the nobleman's side and bowed. "Welcome to Zamkove, Master Marquise. The Count's family have been coming here for years and we take a special pride in that fact."

Zechs returned the bow, a little deeper than Pohl's because he was younger. "It's a beautiful place, sir," he said, smiling. "And if your food tastes as good as the scents coming from your kitchen then I believe I'm in for a treat."

Pohl looked back at Treize. "A charming friend you have, Count - so many young people today lack the necessary manners and graces that polite society demands."

"Zechs here is nothing but grace," Treize praised, unable to stop smiling warmly, looking over to his companion. "Pohl, If I could, do you have a table free towards the back? A two seater table against the wall would be best, if at all possible."

The maitre d' looked to the back of the cafe and his eyes lit up. "All of our two-seaters are taken, your Excellency, but I do have a small alcove table at the very back, will that do?"

The smile playing over Treize's face should have been answer enough. "It will do perfectly, thank you."

Pohl led the way to the table, situated in a semi-private alcove built into the west wall of the room with a curved bench seat of soft, cranberry colored leather. A beveled bow window was beside it, offering a view of Kiev that looked as if it came from an impressionist painting.

"Please be seated, gentlemen. I'll have some hors d'oeuvres brought to you and then we can discuss your meal. Will you be having wine today, Your Excellency?"

"Ah, yes -- white, please, your best," Treize murmured, looking up to Zechs with a smile. "Do you drink, Zechs?"

"Oh - well, yes. Just a bit."

Pohl bowed and headed off in search of wine. Looking around at the secluded alcove, Zechs moved just a bit closer to Treize and smiled down at his napkin. "This is wonderful, Treize. Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're welcome," Treize said with a smile, folding his napkin onto his lap. "It's always very restful here -- I'd thought you'd like the privacy of it."

/Yes, I like the privacy, but he doesn't seem to want to make use of it.../ It was evident to Zechs that Treize wanted nothing of their physical relationship to show in public, so he unfolded his napkin, took a deep breath, and took the menu from Pohl when the maitre d' returned. While he was scanning the prix fixe selections, Pohl opened the chilled green bottle he'd brought, poured a small amount of wine into Treize's glass and waited.

A sip was taken from the glass, small, then Treize offered the same glass to Zechs-- a subtle expression to a knowing man, of his relationship with the blond boy. "Here -- it's a very good year."

Zechs took the glass and sipped, declaring it delicious. As Pohl began pouring the pale golden liquid into chilled glasses, the head chef appeared with a tray of delicately made canapes, a tiny but exquisitely presented assortment of pickled vegetables, and a small silver tureen filled with borscht.

When Pohl had arranged the food properly, the chef stepped forward, gave a small bow to Treize, and asked what items they were considering from the menu.

"Ah, I'll have the herring," Treize decided, looking over to Zechs; a faint smile played over his face as he shifted one foot to rub it against Zechs' calf lightly.

"And the young master?" the chef asked, looking at Zechs. Just at that moment, the blond boy felt his leg being rubbed, very discreetly, and he gave a tiny gasp. The chef looked at him curiously. "Is there anything wrong, sir?"

"No!" Zechs tried to sound normal, but it came out as a soft squeak. He looked up at the chef, a rather stricken expression on his face. "H- How is the beef?"

The chef kissed his fingers and smiled. "The best in all of Kiev! It's not on the menu, but I have a few medallions that have been longing for an appreciative palate. I'll bring you those, with my famous bernaise, yes?"

"Oh, yes - that sounds wonderful, thank you." Zechs nodded.

Both the chef and Pohl bowed graciously again, and left the two officers on their own.

"Your facial expression was most delicious, Milliard," Treize smiled softly, his tone that of a gentle teasing. "It's so hard to not touch you, and yet be so close to you... so I settle for what I can."

Azure eyes stared at him for a moment, then narrowed. "You *knew* you'd get that kind of reaction out of me didn't you?" Zechs said, then smiled in a rather devilish way. "Well just you wait, *Count Khushrenada* - I'll have my revenge."

"It won't be *Count* until the will is formally read and signed," said an unpleasant voice. "And now that you're finally back home, Treize, we can hold the reading."

Nikolai Pestrak was standing before them, dressed smartly in a trim gray suit and staring down at Treize with a rather ugly expression on his face. His eyes moved slowly to Zechs. "Goodness - is this the Christmas Treat, all grown up? Well, I should say half grown. If he were all grown he wouldn't have that lovely flush to his cheeks, now, would he?"

"How unpleasant to see you again, Nikolai," Treize drawled slowly, looking up at his cousin with ice in his eyes. "Zechs, I believe you've met my cousin Nikolai before?" He gaze and tone both spoke to Zechs that he'd take no flak from the man, or let Zechs take any. "Nikolai, I take it you, as a noble, can remember someone's name?"

"When they're important," Nikolai murmured and slid onto the seat, rather close to where Zechs was sitting and finished off the boy's glass of wine. Pouring another glassful, he pushed it towards Zechs. "There you go, sweetheart," he said smoothly, staring at Treize. "You'll probably need it for what my cousin's got planned for you."

Beneath the table, Treize grasped Zechs' hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Nikolai, I am here to relax -- which means I do not wish to see, let along speak with, relatives -- you very much included. You are disrupting a very peaceful meal and putting both myself and my companion on edge."

"Ever the diplomat, Treize," Nikolai said, smiling broadly and stretching his arms out around the back of the seat. "I tell you, what was it again - Zechs? Even when we were children Treize could cut a playground enemy to pieces and make it all sound like spun sugar. Quite a talent, you've got cos'." He smirked at Treize and let his thumb stroke a few stray, golden hairs. Zechs shuddered slightly at the touch and murmured, "Please, don't."

"Nikolai, I'm going to make this short -- why have you taken it upon yourself to speak with me and disturb my companion? And once you've answered that, you have forty seconds to get out of this booth and my sight." His gaze, clear and sharp, was locked onto Nikolai's face, the frown on his mouth very evident. And then his hands began to move. One to his left side, then to his right, then they stayed out of sight beneath the table, but little 'clicks' could be heard even as he continued to calmly look at his cousin's face.

He was assembling his service revolver; all in all, the process would take fifty seconds, but only that long since he had to load it.

"I choose to speak with you, Treize, because you have ignored all my messages to you. You may have all the wealth you'll ever need, but a few of us lowlier members of the Khushrenada family are rather counting on our inheritances from your father's will. With you playing toy soldier all over the world we haven't been able to hold the dispensation. But now," he smiled unpleasantly at Treize, "I find you right here in Kiev. So we can hold our little ceremony and get the money we were promised. By the way, cos'," he continued in sarcastic voice, "it was wonderfully kind of you to inform us of your visit here. If it wasn't for this happy but quite accidental meeting we would never have known... Would we, Treize?"

Nikolai didn't wait for answer. He stood up and leered down at Zechs. "And as for why I disturb your companion..." and here he put his hands on the table and his face quite close to Zechs' ear, "well - he just so pretty when he blushes..." Zechs didn't look at him - just stared down at the uneaten food, wondering if he'd be able to eat lunch at all. Nikolai looked him up and down and laughed harshly. "I'll bet daddy Treize really sticks it to you, eh sweetheart?"

Cold metal pressed against Nikolai's temple, and a click sounded as the cock was set. "You're crude, Nikolai -- get out of my sight. *Now*."

The visitor laughed unpleasantly, then straightened up. "Tomorrow, cos. I'll tell the solicitor that we're all set for tomorrow." A smile that made Zechs shiver appeared on the man's face. Then he bowed, ever so slightly, winked at Zechs, and left.

The blond boy hugged his arms. He felt dirty, as if he needed a bath, and Treize was a thousand miles away across the table.

Treize put the safety back on his gun, and holstered it, before rising to his feet to sit close beside Zechs. Pohl would understand were he to come back, and it was a private booth... Not hesitating, he slid his arms around Zechs, pulling him close. "My love, I'm so sorry that people like Nikolai exist..."

"It's all right," Zechs said quietly, then looked up at Treize. He stared into the stunning blue eyes for a long moment, then smiled. "I refuse to let him ruin this. That would just give him what he wants - and that's the last thing I'm going to do." He looked down at the table. As he turned his head, his cheek brushed against Treize's lips, so close was the nobleman to him.

The intimate, if accidental, touch made his feel warm and safe and so thankful that he was here, with his beautiful man.

He lifted the lid of the small tureen and then looked at Treize. "Well, I'm afraid the soup is cold."

"I'll have Pohl reheat it," Treize whispered softly into Zechs' ear, before pressing an intentional kiss to Zechs' cheek, then the corner of his lips. "My dear friend."

Zechs blinked at the thick, dark reddish-purple liquid, trying to calm a racing heart. "Oh, wait. It's borscht. That's supposed to be cold, isn't it?"

He turned to look at Treize and their lips touched. A tiny gasp escaped him as they sat, not moving, staring into each other's eyes, sharing the same heated breath. Zechs was the one who initiated the kiss, closing his eyes in pleasure and pressing forward against Treize's mouth, a soft, hungry sound coming from the back of his throat.

One that echoed into Treize's mouth and was equally given back, as the older man pressed closer to Zechs before reluctantly pulling back, with Zechs' taste still on his lips. "You dishevel my mind, Dearest Milliard."

Zechs looked down at the tablecloth, softly brushing two fingers over his lips, and smiled. "Please forgive me... *sir.* I get carried away when I'm that close to you." Slowly, he raised his eyes and smiled softly up at his companion.

A soft smile that was returned, as Treize took another quick kiss before moving back to his side of the table. "I expect nothing else from you, love."

End of Part 3

(:./kumiko/bblood10)