THE SHIT HITS THE FAN

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This is a cautionary tale which follows on from Calpurnia's delectably violent
and deliciously bloody Benten/Foxy slash "Sakura No Hana" and should be taken
as a warning to overly enthusiastic slash writers as to the aftermath of
violence towards fragile characters not really built to take it.  It's set in
the Shadowrun RPG universe (And if my GM sees it I will die.  Slowly and
horribly.  So will whoever shows it to him).  The ever lovely Benten is an
Anime character from Cyber City Oedo 808.  It's all Queen Ynci, Annie, Jaine
and Calpurnia's fault.  I'm a good girl.  (However, rabid Coyote shamans
sometimes get all they deserve.)
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    "Oh my god, there's two of them."
    "As if one wasn't enough." Wiley snarled with a grin.  "Com'ere trouble,
this isn't the safest of places to hang around in.  You OK?"
    Fox stepped out of the portal's glow and stumbled as his legs refused to
work.  Wiley caught his arm, steadying him.  "Are you OK?" she repeated with
more concern.  The thin elf's hair and clothes, usually immaculate, were torn
and filthy and there was a bruise purple and vivid along his jawline which had
spread as far as his cheek-bone.  He looked exhausted and scared and she was
aware of him trembling where her hand grasped his arm.  As Fox moved out of the
portal, the tall figure with him also walked forward.  Behind them, as the
shaman's concentration slipped, the portal winked closed and they were left
with the light of their torches and the red glow of the emergency lighting in
the service tunnel.  The second figure stood, swaying slightly, his battered
face blank and unseeing.  Wiley looked up at him and then back at Fox, still
clinging to her.
    "Please help him."  His voice was an exhausted whisper.  "They hurt him.
Please Wiley."
    The weariness in his voice decided her.  "All right, but we need to get out
of here now.  Arnie?"  She turned, still supporting Fox who was leaning more
and more of his weight against her.  Hearing his name, the huge street samurai
loomed from the red shadows, moving silently for all his bulk.  "We gotta blow
this joint before those bastards return to check on their now ex-boss.  Can you
carry blondie over there if I get the Fox out?"
    "Aw, shit Wiley.  Do I have to?  It's another poncey elf an' it ain't got
no clothes on!"
    She glared at him.  "Yes you do.  He ain't walking anywhere and I've got my
hands full and we haven't got time to argue the toss.  Satisfied?"
    The big man opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by the crackle
of the commlink in his ear.  "Are you gonna be all bloody day?....  If you
ain't got the elf now you're gonna have to close the portal and.... leave him
in there......  Lom..  over.."
    "We've got him, on our way up...  Arnie out."  He walked over to where the
tall white haired man stood, a battered ivory statue, and hoisted him like a
sack of potatoes over his shoulder.  He strode off down the corridor.  Wiley
started to say something then thought the better of it and turned her attention
to guiding Fox.  The elf only managed a few steps before he crumpled and with a
muttered curse to her long suffering ancestors, she carried him also.

    They came up from the gloom into the underground car park of Degan
Industries.  Wiley smirked to herself at the thought of the confusion that the
sudden demise of the company's CEO would cause.  She didn't LIKE dragons.
Particularly not sneaky dragons passing themselves off as human.  And what had
the late unlamented Degan needed an interdimensional portal for?  She looked
down at the skinny boy she was carrying then over at the swaying hair spilling
over Arnie's muscled back from his burden. There was her answer.  She would
have to be patient and wait for them to tell her.  Wiley did not consider
herself to be very good at 'patient'.  Lom was lounging against the side of the
van looking suspiciously nonchalant and smelling faintly of cordite and rotting
cabbage.  He had made his escape from the dragon's office via the garbage
chute, a somewhat hurried and undignified exit but looking at the state Fox was
in, a safer one than the portal.
    "Shit, what is this?  Bag-an-elf week?"  Lom looked disbelievingly from
Arnie to Wiley.
    "Don't ask me." Arnie rumbled, "She's the one who wants to run a rescue
service for 'em."  He dumped his unprotesting burden in the van and swung into
the driver's seat.  Lom raised a sceptical eyebrow at Wiley.  "Not another
word." she hissed.  "Give me a hand with the kid."  Lom, wisely, decided not to
push his luck and took Fox from her and into the van.  She'd thought the elf
had passed out but when Lom touched him he roused and cried out, fear in his
pale grey eyes.  Lom frowned at her over the elf's head, she shrugged her
shoulders and shook her head.  Not now, she mouthed silently.  Lom turned to
their silent un-named guest and his frown deepened at the extent of the obvious
injuries.  Arnie started up the van and they sped into the rainy Seattle night.

    They laid the naked man on the bed in Fox's spare room.  Arnie made several
comments along the lines of "Not the first strange man to wake up in your bed,
eh?"  Only he seemed to find this funny.  Wiley peeled off her heavy furred
coat and flung it on a chair, it was going to be a long night.  She looked up
at Fox who was standing in the doorway looking incredibly pale and fragile.
    "Look, I still think we should take you both to the hospital"
    "I...  no, please...  I'd rather Broken Claw.....  I..." his voice trailed
off and he swayed slightly.  "I need a shower."
    Lom came back into the room with a bowl of water and the medical pack from
his bike.  "He's gonna be fine, kid, go get your shower.  I've packed Arnie off
to get BC, he'll take care of your friend, we're just gonna clean him up a
bit."  Fox nodded and turned slowly, as though every movement caused him pain.
Wiley frowned and shook her head.  Lom said quietly, "If BC can't deal with
this we'll take 'em both downtown, but the kid is upset enough already, he's
probably better off on home ground."
    "Yeah." she agreed reluctantly, "but if I catch hold of the bastard who did
this......"
    They started the slow, careful task of cleaning the stranger.  He was a
mess.  Covered in bruises, cuts and abrasions, some of them several days old,
some very raw and recent.  He was built like an elf, tall and slender, but,
when she lifted a swathe of white hair to look for the head wound (that was
slowly soaking the towel they had covered the pillow with), Wiley was surprised
to find that his ears were round and very human.  He had a half-healed wound
that went clean through the rib cage which had obviously been recently treated
and a fresh deep slash across his back.  Lom, an expert on injuries caused by
the katana, scowled at the depth of the cut.  Whoever had stabbed the man had
not been an expert or he wouldn't have been breathing.  None of the injuries
looked accidental.  Through it all the pale man was conscious but totally
unresponsive.  He lay where they placed him and his only movements were
autonomic.  He breathed, he blinked, he swallowed but he did not wake up.
Wiley examined his skull carefully for signs of a fracture, but apart from the
superficial tear in his scalp, there was nothing.  His pupils reacted normally
to the light.  She chewed her lip silently wondering what could have put a man
into this state.  She looked down at him, he shared Fox's colouring and build
but there were well honed muscles under the bruised flesh and he lacked the
elf's pathetic under-fed look.  Lom started to swear angrily.
    "Oh for fuck's sake!"
    "Huh?"
    "Some fucker's had his dick up the poor bastard's ass."

    She was on her feet and out of the room before Lom had time to realise
where she was going.  He caught up with her as she got to the bathroom door,
her fist raised to hammer on the wood panelling.  Lom caught her arm in mid
swing.
    "No!  Wiley!" He hissed.  "You'll scare him witless."

    She turned towards Lom and there was murder in her eyes.  He drew back, an
involuntary step, but she turned back to the door and muttered a few carefully
phrased words.  The lock and door handle dissolved before her anger and the
door swung open.  Fox looked up, startled, at their sudden entrance.  He was
standing in the middle of the room on the plush midnight blue carpet, his
silver hair caught up in one towel, a second one draped around him like a
sari.  Wiley stopped in mid stride, suddenly unsure.  "Are you all right..."
She began carefully, Fox looked puzzled then saw the mess she had made of the
bathroom door.
    "Oh Wiley....  I'm fine.  I told you.  Look what you've done to the door."
    "Forget the fuckin' door!  You stupid little tart!  I thought
they'd.......  SHIT!"  She slammed her fist into the offending door fame and
stormed out.  Fox swayed slightly and looked as if he wanted to go after her.
Lom shook his head.
    "Let her calm down first.  She's worried about you."
    "I know.  I'm sorry."  The elf looked close to tears.  Lom sat him down on
the bathroom chair and crouched down in front of him so that he was at Fox's
eye level.
    "Who did that to your friend?"
    "I don't know, they hated him.  Oh Lom, they hurt him so badly!  I couldn't
stop them."  He was shaking again.  Lom helped him to his feet, carefully put
his arm around the thin shoulders and directed him towards his bedroom.
    "He's gonna be fine.  C'mon you need to lie down.  You sure you're OK?"
    "I'm iust so tired.... only bruised.  They hurt him so badly.."
    "What's his name?"
    "Benten.  I'll feel better in the morning"
    "'course you will.  Go to bed and I'll bring you a cup of tea"
    "Oh, would you!  The teapot is in the....."

    Lom saw Fox to bed then went into the kitchen to make the tea.  He didn't
go back into the bathroom and so didn't notice the blood soaking into the seat
of the chair he had sat the elf on.  Nor did he see the bloody clothes and
towels stuffed at the bottom of the laundry basket.  Neither did Wiley who was
still fuming quietly to herself.

    Broken Claw filled the doorway, in his huge shaggy coat, like a mobile
mountain of fur.  The huge bear shaman towered over even Arnie.  He briefly
looked into Fox's room but the thin elf was asleep, a pathetically slight
figure in the large bed and the Bear shut the door carefully without waking
him.  He instructed Wiley to keep an eye on the boy and went with Lom into the
guest room.  His broad, gentle face darkened with a scowl when he examined
Benten.  He said little but settled down to quiet, methodical meditation,
drawing on his reserves of healing energy to deal with the many injuries.  The
healing went on late into the night, low chants and pungent incense blending
with more modern medical techniques, as between them, he and Lom gradually
pieced Benten back together.  But the pale man still lay unresponsive and
mostly unaware.

    The sky outside lightened and BC allowed himself to doze in a chair by his
patients bed, Lom was asleep in the other bedroom chair.  Arnie was snoring in
one of the armchairs in the living room.  Wiley was under her coat on the
sofa.  Alone in his room, Fox stirred in his sleep, whimpering with fear and
pain, hot tears trickled from his closed eyes and soaked into his hair.  He
tossed and turned restlessly, his legs entangled in the duvet, fighting off
invisible, faceless assailants.  He started to scream.

    Lost and alone, again, in the safe place his mind withdrew to when the pain
became too much, Benten gradually became aware of the sound.  He had heard that
wail of despair before and wanted, needed to do something to make it stop.  He
struggled slowly towards the light.

    The elf's first scream jerked Wiley rudely awake.  Startled and
disorientated she rolled off the sofa on to the floor and banged her elbow on
the coffee table.  She shook her head and stumbled to her feet, cursing under
her breath.  Arnie was already awake, in a low practiced crouch, gun drawn and
looking for a target.

    "Put that fuckin' thing away." She growled.  "You've gotta be used to the
little Drama Queen's sceams by now."
    The door to the guest room opened and BC glowered out at her.  "I thought I
asked you to look after the boy?" He rumbled.  "I can't leave sleeping beauty
here.  I think he's waking up."
    "Yeh, yeh, I'm goin'."  She went into Fox's bedroom.  He had stopped
screaming but was sobbing and shaking, obviously still half asleep.  She went
over and sat carefully on the edge of the huge bed and reached out gingerly for
the thin, trembling shoulder.  Fox went rigid with terror and she had to edge
farther across the silky, richly coloured sheets to reach him.  Gently she
gathered him into her arms, unsure as to what to do next.  He was only wearing
a T-shirt and was burning hot.  The bruises on his arms and legs were vivid
against the pale skin and there were nasty welts about both wrists.  The elf
calmed as she held him and started to wake.  She pushed a strand of sweaty hair
out of his face and he opened his eyes.  He looked up at her with some
bewilderment and not a little fear.  He didn't seem to recognise her.  Then he
relaxed fractionally and his breathing steaded.  She became embarrassed by her
position, kneeling on the bed, holding a half-naked man, even if it was only
Foxy.  Arnie was standing in the doorway watching them.  Her words came out
more harshly than she intended.
    "What the hell was that all about?"
    "I'm sorry Wiley.  Please don't shout."  His voice had the whine in it
which always got her back up.
    She made an effort to soften her tone.  "Are you alright now?"  He nodded
miserably from beneath his white hair and hung his head like a scolded child.
She climbed off the bed and glared accusingly down at him angry at her own loss
of dignity.  "Want some breakfast?"  He shook his head, still not looking at
her.
    "BC reckons your mate is startin' to wake up."  Arnie ventured from the
doorway.  Fox raised his head sharply.
    "Really?" he breathed, relief colouring his voice.  "Oh!  He doesn't speak
English.  I should go see...."  He tried to raise himself on thin, stick-insect
arms but fell back against the bed with a gasp.
    Wiley scowled.  "You just stay there.  He doesn't need you fainting all
over him.  I'm making you some toast and you are gonna eat it."
    "Alright." Fox said in a small voice.  "Could I have a cup of tea as
well....?"
    Wiley grinned over her shoulder.  "Yeh, sure but I warn you.  I make lousy
tea."
    The door closed behind her and Arnie.  Fox moaned and curled up in a foetal
ball, his limbs drawn up into his belly to try and control the dreadful tearing
pain which lanced through him.  He bit his lip to keep from screaming and sweat
ran down his face.  He didn't want them to know.  He couldn't let them know.
He was well aware of their opinion of his sexuality and... and he couldn't bear
their sympathy turning once again to scorn.  Tears ran down his thin cheeks.
He swallowed as the waves of pain ebbed once more and he composed his face for
when Wiley returned.

    Arnie frowned at the closed door and looked over at Wiley.  "That kid is
sick."
    "He'll live.  Come on Arn, have you ever known Fox to suffer in silence
when he can make all our lives miserable?"  Wiley crouched down in front of the
refrigerator with its liberal stocks of salad, tofu and mineral water.  "Shit.
Is this rabbit food all that's in the house?"
    Arnie peered over her shoulder.  "No wonder he's so skinny."  He glanced at
his watch.  "5:30....  I know a twenty four hour pizza place that will deliver,
for enough danger money.  I'll give 'em a bell.  I still think Fox is sick."
    "Look, Arnie, I can deal with him.  He's got mashed before.."
    "Not like this.."
    "Just phone for that pizza before we all starve to death."  An insistent
furry head pushed against her ankle.  "Aw..  Hell...  Where does he keep the
cat food?"

    BC was pleased with his patient's progress.  Since Benten had roused during
Fox's early morning hysterics he had been coming back to awareness.  For all
his slim build he was remarkably strong.  Even after all their careful
attentions he had been left with injuries which should have left him flat out
for a week but, by evening, the major problem was simply one of communication.
Benten kept trying to get out of bed and it took BC grasping his arms and
almost physically lifting him to persuade him to lie down again.
    "Back to bed." The big shaman insisted kindly but firmly for the tenth
time.  But his patient tried again to rise, this time coming out with a
sentence that Lom identified as fluent Japanese.
    "He's probably wondering about the Fox." Lom suggested.  "I'll go see if
he's awake and wants to come in to see our robust friend."  He went through
into the living room steering a careful path through a trail of pizza boxes.
Arnie was ensconced in an arm-chair watching a Brawl game on the Trideo, can of
beer in hand.
    "How's it goin'?" Arnie asked.
    "He's OK.  He's stronger than he looks.  How's things out here?"
    Arnie's ample forehead creased with a scowl.  "I dunno.  The Detroit Demons
have been on form all season but the're playin' like a right bunch o' pansies
tonight.  Sellin' Crusher was a big mistake.  Any fool could'ave told Cooper
not to....."
    Lom left him to his game.  He entered Fox's room and felt a cold shiver run
down his spine.  The room smelt of sickness.  The elf was curled up with the
Coyote sitting on the bed beside him.  Wiley looked up as he entered, worry
clearly written on her dark face.  Fox looked paler than ever, his thin cheeks
had a single spot of high colour in the centre of each and when Lom crossed the
room, to touch his forehead lightly with the back of his hand, he was
unsurprised to feel the heat radiating from the boy.
    "How long's he been like this?" He asked quietly.
    "...'m alright.." Fox mumbled, unconvincingly.
    "About an hour."  Wiley also kept her voice low.  Lom nodded and left the
room.  Fox gripped Wiley's arm desperately.
    "...please... please don't tell them... please."  His voice was choked with
tears.  Wiley gently stroked the damp silver hair.  A very un-Wiley gesture.
"...I want Jackie...."
    "I don't know where she is.  You don't want her to see you like this, do
you?  Wait 'till you're a bit better."
    "Jackie.... please... ohhhh....."  Fox curled into a ball again, unable to
hide his pain any longer.  Wiley looked down at him in alarm.  BC swept in, Lom
trailing in his wake.
    "What have we got here then?"  The big healer crouched down beside the bed
and reached across to gently grasp Fox's boney wrist and take his pulse.  He
scowled.  "I need to have a look at you, Little Fox."  He ran his huge brown
hand lightly down the thin white arm then carefully stroked the elf's cheek.
"Where does it hurt?"  Fox gazed back up at him with frightened silver eyes.
"I won't hurt you, I want to make you better.  Come on little one, let me
see."  He peeled back the dark, expensive looking duvet.  He was concerned.
The boy looked very sick.  He wanted to check for internal injuries.  Fox still
had his legs drawn up against his belly and the scratches and bruises were
painfully obvious all down them.  The Bear put a large hand on the bed and lent
further over the elf.  He paused, sat back and raised his hand that had rested
on the mattress.  He looked down in obvious disbelief.  The palm was crimson
with blood.  Wiley's face went pale.

    Broken Claw loomed over her like a force of nature.  His usually impassive
face was twisted with anger and he had her backed against the living room
wall.  He looked as though he was going to hit her.  Wiley rather wished he
would.
    "That poor, frightened, sick child has nearly bled to death from lack of
attention and The Spirits alone know what sort of infection he's picked up."
He hadn't yet raised his voice but his fury was unmistakeable.  "How long have
you known?"
    "That the little bitch had done that to him?  Less than an hour.  He didn't
want me to tell anyone."
    "I-am-not-anyone." BC snarled through clenched teeth.  "I'm a healer.  That
wasted hour could cost him his life."  He turned on his heel and went back
towards the bedroom.  The door to the guest room opened slightly and BC
barked.  "You!  Back to bed!"  The door closed again, obediently.  Lom was
still standing in the doorway.  "We will need to sedate the boy before I can
clean him up properly.  Do you have anything suitable?"
    Lom nodded and they went inside, shutting the door firmly behind them.
Wiley sat down on the sofa and rested her head in her hands.
    "I told you the elf was sick.."
    "Fuck off, Arnie."
    "I told you so."

    The little receptionist's impassive face was irritating Wiley to
distraction but eventually she conceded that Ms Frost's instructions not to be
disturbed could be violated for a family emergency and agreed to put Wiley
through to her hotel room 'phone.  Jackie, as always, looked cool and
controlled.  She didn't look overjoyed to see Wiley.
    "What the hell's going on?"  Sudden alarm.  "Is 'Tash....."
    "Nah.  Your sister's fine.  It was her who gave me this number.  I thought
you were still in Japan."
    "I didn't know I had to check my movements with you.  Look, I am very busy
right now."  She glanced over her shoulder into the room behind her.
"Important business.  I assume this is urgent?"
    "Fox has had some trouble..."
    "For heaven's sake!  I can't come running to bail him out every time the
little fool gets himself in the shit.  I'm not his damn mother."
    Wiley could feel her temper slipping.  "It's serious, Jackie.  He's real
sick...."
    Before she could continue, Arnie leaned over her shoulder to leer into the
screen.
    "Someone's buggered the elf witless." He announced smugly.  "And Wiley
didn't even notice...."
    Jackie's face changed slightly.  Her voice was ice.  "I will be there..."
She glanced at her watch.  "as soon as I can.  I'll phone from the airport."
She cut the connection and was gone.
    "Thanks a lot." The Coyote muttered at Arnie's back as he returned to his
chair and opened another beer.

    Wiley sat at the kitchen table for nearly an hour staring at a cold,
congealed, half eaten pizza without really seeing it.  She jumped when Lom
touched her arm.
    "BC wants a word."
    "How's he doing?"
    ".......Not good."
    Broken Claw was washing the blood from his hands as she entered.  Fox was
lying in a freshly made bed.  He was white as a corpse, his eyes red-rimmed
from crying.  He looked to be asleep.  There was an I.V. feeding clear fluid
into his arm and a drug patch below his elbow.  BC looked grim.
    "Lom and I need to go out for awhile."  Still that quiet calm voice.  "He
needs whole blood and stronger antibiotics than Lom can get hold of at this
time of night."
    "Shouldn't he be in hospital?"
    "No!" Lom and BC spoke in unison.  The healer continued calmly, as though
he was talking to a backward child.  "Fox has been very badly... hurt and
terribly frightened, the last thing he needs right now is to be in a strange
place surrounded by people he doesn't know."  Wiley bit her lip and nodded.
"He will be waking up soon and is likely to be disorientated and distressed.
Keep him calm and quiet and try to get him to drink as much as he can.  The
high temperature is making him dehydrate.  The saline will help but he has
already lost too much blood.  If I had known sooner how badly damaged he was.."
    "He kept insisting he was all right.  Usually he wants an ambulance if he
breaks a nail!"
    Broken Claw looked down at her.  "I know, Little Sister.  You are not
governed by a healing Totem.  I should have made the time to see the Little Fox
sooner."
    The two men left the room.  Wiley sat down in the chair by the bed,
watching the elf's gaunt face.  The door opened again and Arnie stuck his head
round.
    "Jackie's got an ETA of about an hour.  Her 'Business Deal' apparently has
a private jet.  I'm gonna truck on down to SeaTac.  Y'know how she hates to be
kept waiting."  He looked down at the small form on the bed.  "You be OK on
your own?"
    "Yeah.  I can handle one sick elf can't I?"

    She sat on the hard, ornate chair for about half an hour before her head
started to droop, it had been days since she had had any proper sleep.  Her
patient hadn't stirred, she wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not.
Wiley needed a cup of coffee.  She crept out of the room, leaving the door ajar
and picking up the soiled sheets they had stripped off the bed.  She looked in
on Benten.  He was sleeping.  He looked a hell of a lot better than Fox.  She
was still itching to know who he was and where he came from.  She dumped the
sheets in the utility room and went into the kitchen.  While searching for the
sugar for her coffee, she found a large bag of pinto beans.  Looking at them
triggered something in her memory: bean-soup.  Her grand-mother's bean-soup was
just what sick little elves needed.  She poured the beans into a pan, covered
them with water and set them to boil.  Her coffee was ready and smelt
wonderful.  A small, weak voice drifted through the apartment.
    "Wiley?.....  Wiley..  I.. don't feel good..."
    She was across the kitchen faster then she believed herself capable of
moving after so little sleep.  She reached the bedroom doorway in time to see
Fox throw-up all over the bed.  "Shit!"  She crossed the room in two long
strides and caught the elf's thin shoulders as he threatened to fall off the
edge of the bed.  He was still retching, his whole body wracked with spasms.
Wiley held on to him, there was no use in trying to get a bowl or getting him
to the bathroom, both bed and elf were already covered in nasty foul smelling
liquid.  She just held him, lifting his sodden hair out of the worst of the
mess until the sickness passed and he lent back against her, breath coming in
short frightened gasps.  He was shaking and soaked with sweat.  He started to
cry.  Wiley, completely at sea, had no idea what to do for the best.  She
rocked the sick elf as though he was a child, making inane 'shushing' noises,
gradually me calmed and relaxed.  They were both liberally coated with vomit.
Wiley rolled her eyes heavenward and wondered which of her bastard ancestors
was having a laugh at her expense.
    "I'm...... s-sorry... Wiley.."
    "It's alright.  Not your fault.  Let's get you cleaned up eh?" She murmured
with a self control that she didn't know she possessed.  She found a tissue and
wiped his nose.
    Fox nodded miserably.  He looked so wretched, this time BC would kill her
for sure.  She lifted him out of the bed and sat him in the one comfy chair in
the room, careful of the I.V. which was hanging from an ornamental scroll on
the wall.  She peeled off the filthy T-shirt and shook her head, was there an
inch of his body without a bruise?  She couldn't get the T-shirt off easily
because of the dratted I.V. and resorted to tearing it across the shoulder.
Fox was shivering.  There was a linen trunk at the foot of the bed and she got
out a blanket and wrapped it about him while she stripped the bed and put on
fresh sheets and a clean duvet cover.  She went into the bathroom and filled
the bowl BC had been using with warm water and picked up the soap, flannel and
a couple of fluffy, expensive feeling towels.  She also retrieved a couple of
bottles of mineral water from the 'fridge and turned down the heat on the
beans.  She didn't want them to burn.
    Fox sat where she had left him.  She crouched down next to him.  "Feeling
any befter?"  His hair was in his eyes again.  He shrugged.  "I'll clean you up
now, eh?"  Still no reply.  She carefully started to wash the filth from his
skin and hair.  He whimpered a couple of times when she touched a sore spot but
endured her attentions without a word.  Wiley sat back on her heels to survey
her hard work.  Not perfect but a definite improvement, it would have been
easier if she could have just dumped him in the shower and hosed him down but
the I.V. put the kibosh on that brilliant idea.  She rummaged through drawers
until she found another T-shirt and threaded it laboriously over the I.V. and
helped Fox into it.  Clean, he looked a little less wretched and had stopped
shivering but she hoped BC and Lom would be back soon.
    "My mouth tastes.... foul....... may I have a drink of water?"
    "Of course you can." Wiley beamed.  He was definitely sounding better.  She
poured the ice cold mineral water into a glass and Fox took several tentative
sips.  He handed the glass back to her with a faded smile, his hand still
shook.  She lifted him gently back onto the clean bed.  "There now, that's a
whole lot better isn't it?"  He nodded and swallowed noisily a couple of
times.  She leaned him against her to reach over and rearrange the pillows, Fox
was suddenly and loudly sick again.  All down her back.  She froze in
disbelief, she had no option but to keep holding the boy, cursing herself for a
fool for giving him icy cold water on an already sensitive stomach.  Eventually
there was a pause.  The elf was gasping for breath between heaves, tears
streaming down his face.  He let go of her and curled up into a ball, still
retching altnough he had nothing but bile left to bring up.  They were both
filthy again.  A new and even less pleasant smell reached her, causing her own
stomach to roll.  She gingerly lifted the edge of the duvet.  Great.  Both
ends.  Just great.  Wiley closed her eyes.  God, he was gonna die on her.  BC
would strangle her with her own intestines.  That was, if Jackie didn't get
there first.
    "...I'm... really sorry....."
    She didn't trust herself to reply.  She started the whole cleaning
procedure again but first went and got an empty bucket and some toilet roll.
She also brought a couple of bottles of water that hadn't been in the 'fridge
and made sure Fox drank several glasses.  He was immediately sick again but
without the dreadful violence and this time she was ready with the bucket.  She
stripped off the second set of soiled sheets and dumped them with the first.
On her way back to the bedroom she almost ran into Benten, who was coming out
of the bathroom.  She had forgotten he was there.  She must have looked a sight
in her warpaint of dried vomit.  Lacking the time or the energy to deal with
him she just rolled her eyes.  He nodded sagely and said in badly broken
English.
    "Go-to-bed."  And retreated to the safety of the guest room.
    Wiley wished she could join him.  She took a deep breath before re-entering
the fray.  He looked up miserably from where he slumped in the chair.  He'd
been sick again and had missed the bucket.
    "Oh for fuck's sake!"
    "Sorry...  Wiley...  I'm so.. so..." The tears started.
    "Shh.  It's not you I'm angry at."  He was getting hot.  She found the
tissue and wiped his nose.  God, she hated this. She had never been the
maternal type.

    That had to be the last of it?  There was no way such a small body could
contain any more shit or vomit, was there?  Fox lay very still, on the third
set of clean sheets.  He looked asleep.  She hoped he was only asleep.  Where
the hell were they all?  It was well over two hours since they had all gone and
left her in purgatory.  She opened the window a crack to let out some of the
foul air and went back into the kitchen.  Her coffee was still there on the
table.  Stone cold.  She hadn't the energy to make fresh so she put it in the
microwave to nuke for sixty seconds and slumped down at the table.  She was
asleep before the microwave went 'ping'.

    Jaqueline Frost paid the taxi driver with out giving him a tip.  She was in
a bad mood.  Not only had she had to trek half-way across the country because
Fox (a valuable asset) had got himself hurt, but there had been no sign of
Arnie at the airport and she had to give the driver a ridiculous amount of
bribe before he would risk his precious taxi to bring her here at this time of
the night.  Correction, this time of the morning.  She entered the outer flat.
The apartment was actually two flats, the small, dingey outer one acted as a
cover for the actual apartment with its excellent security features.  They had
both belonged to her before Fox bought them.  She was not happy that Wiley had
called her from the inner apartment.  It implied that the team knew the dual
nature of the building.  She would have words with Fox about that.  Fox was not
as security conscious as she.
    The first thing she became aware of as she entered the inner flat was the
smell, the odour of shit and other unsavoury bodily secretions and overlaying
it all was a particularly nasty miasma of something burning.  The second thing
she noticed was the state of the place.  Empty pizza boxes, beer cans, half
empty mugs of coffee (one of which had been spilled all over the pale green
carpet), several half eaten saucers of cat food.  As she entered, Rocky The Cat
was in the process of de-constructing the sofa.  He paused in mid-scratch,
looking as nonchalant as only a guilty cat could and came over to rub her
ankles hopefully.  Rocky had also been hers before Fox inherited him.  She
ignored him, he had obviously conned food out of several people before her.
She went into the bedroom.
    The cold air hit her along with the increase in the stink.  She stood in
the doorway, aghast.  Fox was lying curled up on the floor, the duvet wrapped
around him.  He had been sick and when she went nearer she saw he had shit
himself.  There was some blood too.  The needle that had been in his arm had
pulled out and the fluid in the I.V. had soaked into the carpet.  As she
entered he raised his head slightly and she was horrified by his gaunt white
face, his blood-shot eyes in sunken blackened sockets.  When he saw her he
started to sob.
    "....J..Jackie..?"
    "Oh my god!"
    She went over and gathered him into her arms, getting her new silk suit
soiled.  At that precise moment she didn't care.  She held him and let him
cry.  Fox was, in many ways, just a useful and valuable tool she could use to
further her private agenda.  But, like anyone who was useful to her, Jackie was
prepared to go to considerable lengths to protect her investment and finding
him like this...  She carefully got him back on the bed and closed the window.
She tied his filthy hair back and wiped his face.  How the hell could they
leave him alone in this state?  She swept out of the room like one of the
furies.

    The pan of cremated beans slammed down onto the kitchen table millimetres
from Wiley's head.  She jumped a foot out of the chair and went tumbling
backwards in a confusion of hair, feathers and beads.
    "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" Jackie exploded in her face.
    Wiley, exhausted, worried and never known for her calm demeanour, scrambled
to her feet with a snarl of arcane words.  The offending pan of beans flew
across the room.  Jackie dropped to the deck with a fighter's instinct.  The
pan crashed into a shelf of crockery with an amazing amount of noise.  Jackie
rose to her feet playing out a metre of monofilament wire from her concealed
whip.  Wiley's fingertips sparkled with dark light.
    Both women slumped to the ground silently.  Broken Claw lowered his hands,
his fingers glowing, and gazed down at the pair of them.  Arnie, peering over
the shaman's shoulders, looked suitably impressed.
    "Wow.  Neat trick."
    BC glared at him.  "Take the pair of them into the other flat."
    Arnie nodded and hefted one under each arm.
    "And Arnie, when you've done that, tidy this mess up."

    They started the Stygian task of cleaning Fox and his room again.  BC
carried him into the bathroom and Lom climbed into the bath to support him
while the shaman ran the warm shower down pathetic, trembling limbs.  Lom had
learned not to argue with BC in matters medical.  The Bear could be most....
insistent.  The shaman took the elf back into the sick room and sat in the
chair cradling him like a small child in his massive arms.  Lom carefully
reattached a fresh Saline I.V. and started up the whole blood.  He had a hard
job finding a vein.  BC then set him and Arnie to removing the ruined mattress
and replacing it with the one from the other flat.  It was where Arnie had
dumped the still sleeping Jackie and the Coyote.  Lom, in no mood to be gentle,
rolled the pair of them unceremoniously on to the floor.  Arnie said nothing
but filed this away for future reference.  He did, briefly, consider arranging
the pair of women into a compromising position but, reluctantly, decided
against the idea.  BC might get pissed off if they killed each other.  Or him.
(Neither woman had a sense of humour, he thought, sadly.)  They struggled to
get the king-sized mattress through a not king-sized door.  Arnie's elbow
knocked over a potted plant and spilled soil underfoot.

    Left alone with his sick charge, the Bear looked down sadly at the sunken
cheeks and cracked lips.  The elf's pretty, androgynous looks had deserted
him.  The Little Fox's chances of survival looked slight and, for all his sharp
words to the Coyote, Broken Claw felt responsible.  He stroked the soft silver
hair.  The boy whimpered - even that gentle touch causing pain.  So
frighteningly young.  BC rocked him gently.  He wasn't a boy.  He was in his
early twenties but the fever was burning him away.  He looked about thirteen.
Quietly, carefully, the shaman began again the songs of healing and willed his
own energy into the spells.

    Arnie stood in the utility room trying to decipher the washing machine
dial, whistling tunelessly as he did when he was thinking.  He shrugged and
turned the control as far as it would go.  The sheets had been a right mess,
better to over wash them than leave them dirty.  Arnie was a military man, all
his sheets went in a boil wash.  The label on the sheets had a little symbol
with the number 40 on it.  He decided that meant the sheets should be washed
for forty minutes...

    Wiley woke in a cramped position on the floor of the seedy bedsit that was
the outer flat.  She had no idea how long the Bear's sleep spell had lasted,
she'd been so exhausted, she could have slept for a week.  The sky outside was
bright, it made her eyes ache.  She was in a foul mood.  Fortunately, there was
no sign of Jackie.  She went through the bathroom, grimacing at the dishevelled
reflection in the bathroom mirror, and into Fox's apartment.  The smell of
burnt beans hung over everything.  Arnie was ensconced in the chair with his
ever increasing mound of fast food cartons and beer cans in a nearly neat pile
around him.  The cat was scratching in a determined manner at the soil in one
of the big potted plants.  Benten was cautiously opening his door and peering
around the door frame anxiously.  Wiley wondered suddenly if anyone had thought
to feed or find clothes for the poor guy.  Then she saw Jackie.  The striking
auburn haired woman was holding her clenched fist under Lom's impassive nose
and issuing threats in the loudest whisper she could manage.
    ".....I don't give a toss what that overgrown teddy bear says.  I want to
see Fox now."
    Lom looked over her head and saw Wiley decending like a harpy on a bad-hair
day.  He ducked back into the sick room as Jackie heard the Coyote's footfall
behind her.  The thump was enough to cause the well-made door to vibrate.  BC
looked up from his place bv the bed with a scowl.
    "That had better not be those two starting up again."
    "No, no." Lom grinned.  "I think Wiley just dropped something."

    Broken Claw filled the doorway.  At his sudden appearance, Wiley and Jackie
scrambled to their feet.  They had been sat on either end of the sofa.  Arnie
slouched in his armchair with his beer, the atmosphere was frigid.  Arnie was
rather sorry that the fight was over.  It had been more fun than the Trideo.
Wiley had a split lip.  Jackie had an incipient black-eye.
    "Is..."
    "Oh God.."
    The Bear raised a huge hand to silence them.  "Quiet!  Little Fox is
sleeping.  He is still very ill, but, with luck, I think he will survive."  He
looked round the room at the mess.  "Arnold, I believe I asked you to tidy this
up?"
    "I did the washing..."  Arnie waved at the sheets draped from most
available surfaces.  (He was secretly disappointed by the state in which the
sheets had come out.  They seemed a rather peculiar colour and smaller and some
of the stains looked.. well...  almost worse than when he started.  Arnie
suspected that Fox's machine was faulty and had wanted to put them through the
cycle again but Wiley had threatened violence if he turned the machine back
on.  Arnie didn't think Wiley or Jackie pulled together very well in a crisis.)
    BC sighed and scowled.  "How is Benten?"
    "Um.."
    "You HAVE been keeping an eye on him?"  He glared at each of them.  No one
met his gaze.  He shook his shaggy head and went into the guest-room.  Benten
was sat on the edge of the bed, he was still naked, he looked anxious.
    "Go-to-bed?" Benten asked in a strained voice.
    BC smiled down at him and nodded then turned back into the living room.
"You."  He pointed at Wiley.  "I need you in here with me.  You and you."  The
huge finger pointed at Jackie and Arnie.  "Find that poor man something to
wear.  Feed him."  He glared at Arnie.  "Not some of that rubbish.  Something
nice and bland.  I'm sure Fox will have some rice in the kitchen.  You can
manage to boil some rice?"  He strode back to Fox's door, Wiley followed
obediently.  "Oh, and see if you can think of anyone we know and trust who can
speak Japanese.  Lom knows several but tneir knowledge seems limited to phrases
such as 'are the lungs included in that price' and 'you don't get much call for
livers these days' and I would not trust them at all."

    Wiley came back after an hour.  She looked upset.
    "Is he worse?"  Jackie sounded anxious.  Wiley flopped down on the couch.
Almost sitting on Fox's small but incredibly valuable computer deck.  (Arnie
had been playing PacMan on it.)
    "No...  but he's a bit upset.  Some of the treatment he needs is...
distressing.  I'd rather not talk about it right now."  She looked across at
Jackie.  "I'm sorry I called you an ignorant, slimy harridan."
    "That's OK.  I'm sorry I called you a stupid festering bag of pus."  Arnie
was stunned (and a little worried) by this sudden and unusual show of bon
homie.  "Do you think BC will let me in to see him?"
    Wiley glanced across at the firmly closed door.  "Not right now.  We've
just got him calmed down and back to sleep."
    "I found someone who speaks Japanese - Moira."
    Wiley looked blank.
    "You know her." Jackie insisted.  "Machete from The Warm Leatherettes."
    This time Wiley nodded.  "I remember, I thought your gang had disbanded."
    "We have, sort of.  But she's fluent in Japanese and she knows Fox quite
well."  As she spoke the door buzzer went.  "That'll be her."
    As Jackie rose, Arnie made a sudden dash for the kitchen.  The not so
subtle aroma of burning rice wafted across the living room.

    Benten gazed up at the ceiling.  He was feeling stronger than he had in a
long while.  Several low level pains he had put up with for months had gone.
The nagging ache Saionji's sword had left him with was also gone.  He took a
deep breath, luxuriating in a body which functioned as it should.  There were
still ragged gaps in his memory.  He had a suspicion that there were some
things he didn't want to remember.  He was still a little hazy as to how he had
got to this warm soft bed and who these people, who kept running around and
shouting in a determined and often fruitless manner, were.  He presumed that
they were friends or family of Hokusai.  He also suspected that Hokusai was the
reason for all the running around.  He frowned, he hoped that the elf was
alright.  He had tried to communicate with them but to no avail.  The big man
with the gentle hands, who seemed to be a doctor, had been most determined that
Benten should remain in bed.  He hadn't had the strength to argue.  But now he
felt much better and he was hungry and bored and he wanted some answers.  And
some clothes.  There was a small, neat kimono hanging on the back of the door
but it was pale pink... and somehow he just couldn't..
    The door opened again and a dark, pleasant looking woman came into the room
carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of rice upon it and a pot of what smelt
wonderfully like jasmine tea.  She smiled.
    "Konnichiwa, Benten San?"  Benten could have kissed her.

    The first thing Moira did, after ensuring that Benten was not going to
starve or go crazy from sensory deprivation, was to tidy the carnage that the
apartment had become.
    "Are you trying to kill the boy with shock?" She muttered.
    Moira knew Fox, he was a customer at her boutique.  His purchases were not
always to her taste but they were invariably expensive.  She knew how
fastidious he was.  In forty eight hours they had succeeded in virtually
wrecking the place.
    She supplied each of them with a pair of rubber gloves.  Fox had twelve
pairs all neatly hung under the sink, each held together by a dainty rubber-
glove-clip in the shape of a tiny pair of hands.  (Even Moira raised an eyebrow
at the pink and yellow floral pair which were draped artistically over the edge
of the wicker basket with the straw hat and the bee-keepers net and the
miniature set of garden tools.  Fox didn't have a garden, just the potted
plants that Rocky had been using as a toilet since his litter tray hadn't been
emptied.)
    She set Arnie to collecting the festering mounds of rubbish and beer cans
and to clean out the litter-tray and all the little protests Rocky had
deposited in the plant pots.  The weather had finally noticed it was supposed
to be summer and had become warm and sunny.  The pizza boxes were starting to
evolve into some interesting new lifeforms.  Jackie, she had washing towels and
the bedding that Arnie hadn't got hold of.  The sheets and duvet covers that
the big samurai had lavished his attentions on she sadly threw in the rubbish.
They looked rather expensive, she suspected that seeing them in such a state
could put the elf's convalescence back weeks.  She asked Wiley to clean the
bathroom but the Coyote shaman looked so miserable at the prospect that she
recanted and did it herself.  Wiley got the washing-up and the unenviable task
of removing the burnt on beans and rice from the ceramic hob.  Arnie had
already made a valiant effort with his Swiss army knife to dislodge the baked-
on food but had admitted defeat....

    Fox gradually improved.  It was a slow process and he needed 'baby-sitters'
for the first few weeks.  Denny, Ash and Barry were recruited to take shifts.
Barry, only after Jackie had to leave to conclude her 'business matters.'  He
and Jackie did not get on very well.  Fox cried for Jackie a lot after she had
gone which pissed Wiley off.  (She was secretly proud of her elf handling
skills.  She hadn't hit him once.  She hadn't even threatened him.  Ah, she
must be going soft in her old age.)  Marvin the Troll's gracious offer of
assistance was tactfuly refused.  So was Spliffy's.  So Marvin sent a large
bunch of flowers, 'for der sick little lady.'  BC oversaw it all with an
immense glow of satisfaction.  After the first week he allowed Benten to join
the 'sitters ranks, Fox still needed carrying to the bathroom, careful and
unhurried feeding, washing and his long, long hair combing.  He also needed
watching at night as he had violent and terrifying nightmares.  Ash was
particularly good at dealing with the night terrors, the Rasta's relaxed
personality seemed to exert a calming influence.  Wiley suspected it had more
to do with the little chocolate brownies he brought the elf but did not pass on
this observation to BC.  Even Arnie took a stint in the sick room.  Lom was
most amused by the sight of the big man's horrified face as Fox clung to him
sobbing after a nightmare.  BC on the other side of the room, out of the elf's
line of sight, was, with some desperation, miming suitable actions to Arnie as
the huge, tough street samurai, who could take on ten men without flinching,
looked more and more desperate at the soggy mess of emotional elf in his arms.
Arnie did not volunteer again.
    As he recovered, Fox became more and more difficult and demanding.  He
needed less care and became a positive brat from all the attention.  BC
gradually dismissed his dedicated team and watched the normal hierarchy of
bitching and infighting, they all seemed to enjoy, resurface.  He even allowed
Fox access to his beloved cyberdeck, feeling that the boy needed to exercise
his mind even if he was still too weak to walk more than a few paces.
Eventually only Benten remained.  BC was satisfied that he could cope and left
them alone.

    Benten sat, late in the night, on the hard bedside chair, watching the pale
boy sleep.  Was this really what he had left his home and everything he had
ever known for?  In Oedo he had been a criminal and a policeman.  Here he was
nothing.  Less than nothing, he didn't even officially exist.  Was it really
worth it?  Fox stirred, whimpering slightly.  Benten reached out and gently
stroked his forehead.  Was he worth it?  Fox opened his eyes.  They were silver
in the dim light.  He smiled sleepily, reassured by Benten's mere presence.
Benten smiled back.  Yes.  It was worth coming here, if only for the thought of
the expression there would be on Hasegawa's face when he opened that cell door
expecting to find Benten a gibbering wreak inside.......  He eased himself on
to the bed beside Fox and gathered the elf into his strong arms.  Rocky the Cat
jumped up on the bed and settled on the pillow, purring softly.  All three of
them drifted off into sleep.

    In a neighbouring dimension, a chain smoking police chief seethed quietly
fidgeting with his lighter.  He would find out where his missing Cyber Cop had
got to if it was the last thing he ever did....