In the end it wasn't D's smooth polished elegance or his flirtatious and coy smile that brought Leon to his bed. In the end the little game D played with the unruly detective was proven to be just that. A game. D had never once thought Leon would cross the line. D had wanted, no needed, to keep Leon just standing one step back from actually loving him. One step back where D could see and just barely taste what he might have had but would not allow himself. Oh, D had had the best of intentions. He had lived on the earth a very, very long time, as his kind were almost immortal. Although for his species he was still quite young D had become accustomed to the passing of those around him and so now drew a blanket around him to protect himself from the hurt when they grew old, withered and died. To imagine the gold fading from Leon's hair was an almost painful despair and so D played his hand as he had many times before. Experience told him that eventually the human would grow tired of the little machinates and leave him. It would be for the best. D's heart would almost bleed from the pain but he would recover and know he had done the only reasonable, humane thing. The human would find someone else, someone more like himself. Someone who would wither as he did and lie in the ground beside him when the time came. D had counted on Leon's inherent homophobia to keep him at bay. D had counted on Leon's outrage and denial to act as a buffer between the feral attraction drawing them to one another. He hadn't counted on not being able to let go. He hadn't counted on the painful moments when Leon entered the petshop and the very site of him constricted the air in D's lungs. Oh, there was so many, many, things D had not counted. First and foremost though he had not intended to wind up in the detectives care, yet that is exactly what happened.
Leon was heading towards the Pet Shop with a box of Godiva chocolates in hand. Leon excelled at lying to the world. Really, it was an art form. If only people knew just how well he pulled it off they would be shocked. Jill would be the most shocked of course but well, that couldn't be helped. Jill who just knew he was in mass denial of his "attraction" to the enigmatic Count. Leon snorted to himself. What morons. The best place to hide he had learned a long time ago was right out in the open where everyone could trip over you. And trip over him they had, each successive outburst more brilliant then the one before assured him of his status. Laughable almost. Leon stood in a secret place where his emotions, the real emotions, remained carefully locked away from the rest of the world. He could gratuitously ogle women and get away with it. That was simple they either didn't know him that well and thought he was some overexcited young pup that they could "break in" or, slight snicker escaping his lips, they did know him and figured he was trying to prove he was straight. Leon didn't need to prove anything to anybody. Lovely part about being bisexual there is always some mad eye candy.
Leon was nearly humming to himself at the prospect of seeing the delectable Count again. Attraction? What a mild understatement. He was over seventy five percent sure that the Count would be more then a bit surprised to discover that Leon was on to him. There would be time enough for that latter though. Leon could be patient when it required it and the Count was the highest bidder for seeing how long Leon's patience would last. Leon wanted the Count badly, but he didn't want a one-night stand or some short-term fling. No, that would never do. He knew the difference between sexual lust and the real thing. Although he very much wanted to bury particular parts of his anatomy as far as possible into the softness of the Count's body Leon more wanted to hear the clipped accent talking with him over tea and cakes. He more wanted to get inside the maze that was the Count's mind and find his way through its halls. Leon wanted it all.
Two more blocks and he would be there. Two more blocks and he could go down into that cool, dark parlor and absorb whatever masterpiece D. chose to wear today. His radio picked up then Jill's frantic voice crackling over to him.
"Leon? Leon? answer me, damn it, there's been shots fired at the Count's. Leon? Do you hear me? There are patrol men are in route, but oh God...Leon?"
A red haze clambered over Leon's skull and flamed down the side of his face. He wrenched the wheel savagely and slammed through the intersection. One hand grabbed the radio and shot back an answer.
"I'm a block away; tell I'm in route. You got that Jill?" With a screech of rubber on payment Leon was there and out of his car moving. Leon skitted down the steps and through the petshops door twisting on it's broken hinge. The rage that was threatening to consume him swept through and ignited into a cold fury as he took in the scene. Four men surrounded the Count. D. was sprawled on the floor in a puddle of blood his black hair sticky with it. The frog closures on his cheongsam were ripped apart and the man crouched between his legs was busy trying to shred the black pants that blocked his way.
Leon never heard the coarse, crude things the men said. The man to the right of D. saw him and charged with the knife he had been using to cut away the cheongsam. His head snapped back as Leon spun blocked the lunge by breaking the swing and punched over his shoulder with the flat of his left hand breaking the man's nose and settling the cartilage into his brain. Leon spun again swinging the dead body with him and hurtling it into the way of his comrade coming from the other side of D. The man stumbled over the body lost his momentum and his life as Leon grabbed his head as it came down and with one smooth motion followed by a loud pop broke his neck. The third attacker came around his fallen cohorts with his gun pulled and cocked. Leon stepped to his side and leveled a solid kick into his midriff while grabbing the man's wrist crushing the bones and taking the gun.
The last thing D. saw as the world grew black carried with it the weight of just why Leon Orcot had moved so quickly through the ranks. The detectives own gun then slid easily into his other hand and arms outstretched both weapons cocked and ready and pointing dead between the men’s eyes. The last words D. heard were Leon's to the man still kneeling between his legs.
"Twitch".