Authors' notes:

Er….the real authors' notes and disclaimer are at the end of the story. *shrugs* It just worked better that way.

Read on folks!

Ink

Chapter One

By Marty and Fei

It was a perfect day.

The morning sun's rays gently toasted bronzed skin. Not too harsh, just the way he liked it. The cool spring breeze playfully tousling through brunette locks.

The skies were blue, the grass was green…

What else could a man ask for?

Granted, other things could be right with the world. Like no baddies to kill, a family to go home to, a loved one by your side, a sporting career to die for…

Ok. Stop. Not going there.

The thoughts were banished with a toss of sweat-drenched locks as the brunette opened lively chocolate eyes to once more soak in the colours of the day. Ahhh….bliss. Birds twittering. A little more twittering than usual though.

With a slight frown, the brunette - ah heck, you should have figured out by now that he's none other than Ken Hidaka - turned for the umpteenth time to sneak a glance at the number of whispering shoujos who have crowded the field today. Strange. What would they find interesting in a group of children learning how to kick a ball? They certainly hadn't been interested before.

Ah well, who could figure girls out anyway. He certainly hadn't had much luck even though he had spent years dealing with rabid fangirls in the store.

Shrugging, Ken turned back to what would be more worth his time - the game at hand. These kids, how he loved them. You didn't have to put your guard up around them. You didn't have to care that they saw you for more than what you presented to them. In their eyes, he would simply be their happy and kind Ken-niichan, good at soccer, and also healing wounds, a skill called to use then as a sob pierced through the carefree laughter.

Worried eyes turned to the source of the noise to see a little boy hugging his knee to his chest, chibi eyes miserable. He was there in a flash.

"Toshi-kun, daijoubu?" He queried softly while getting down on his knees beside the little boy. Watery green eyes looked up to meet his as the boy pouted and pointed to his grazed knee. "Hikaru pushed me", came the complaint.

"Maa maa!" Ken laughed, tousling the boy's sand-blonde hair. "It's just a little injury. And pro soccer players get those all the time. You're just getting your battle scars ne?"

Wide eyes brightened. "Hontou ni?"

A grin. "Hai! Hontou da yo." Problems were always simpler when you were a kid.

Just as he was finishing up placing the band-aid on a scuffed knee, a concerned voice rang out in his ear. "What happened? Is Toshi alright?" Ah…enter the worried mum.

He watched amusedly, and slightly enviously, as a pair of hands clutched protectively around the boy. "He's fine. A scratch that I've already patched up."

"Arigatou." A relieved Nohara-san said. "Well, it's time to get going anyway. Toshi, go get your stuff."

Saa. The game was coming to an end ne? Ken grinned and watched his students running up to their parents, occasionally lifting a hand to wave goodbye. It was after a while that he realised Nohara-san was still standing beside him…and fidgeting.

The 'standing-beside-him' part he was used to. Mums seemed to like to do that, hovering at his side. But fidgeting?

Turning his brown eyes on her, he watched, surprised, noting how uncomfortable the woman looked. "Anou…" she began, eyes flicking to his and away so many times he was getting dizzy trying to keep track.

"Eh? What is it?" He was concerned. He didn't like the thought of any of his students' parents being uncomfortable with him.

"Er…you are Ken Hidaka-san ne?"

"Hai. Nanda? Is…is something wrong?"

"No no! Nothing. Nothing at all."

A bit more fidgeting. And then. "Well, I'd better get going. Toshi still has to go for his piano lessons."

"Hai. Dewa…mata na." Confused brown eyes watched as the woman all but scurried away with little Toshi yelling goodbye at the top of his lungs.

That was odd.

He thought it had been a well-known fact amongst the parents what his name was. So what was that all about? Usually they just called him Ken-kun and that was that. He couldn't help the small spark of uneasiness creeping up his spine. Now that he thought about it, some of the other parents were also looking at him kinda strange today.

A tentative tap on his shoulder. He turned. Man, how many times was he going to be surprised today? He nearly groaned when he saw two schoolgirls clutching each other's hands and staring wide-eyed at him.

Forcing a smile on his handsome face, he cheerily called out: "Ohayou. How can I help you?" Yeah yeah, they were not in the flower shop but he just didn't know what else to say to them.

"He is soooo bish!" was the whispered comment from one girl to the other before they turned to face him again, goggle-eyed and all. "Ken Hidaka-san ne?" was the awed question.

It took him all of his self-discipline not to turn tail and run. It was bad enough already to be cornered in the Koneko but to be cornered out on an open field? Mou…life sucked. He could feel his good mood dissipating already.

"Hai." Was his forced cheerful answer.

"Wai!! It's really him!!" came the over-enthusiastic scream which caused a bewildered brunette to clamp his hands over his ears in an effort to save his eardrums from the assault at such close quarters.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the girls suddenly decided that they would very much enjoy clasping his hands instead of each other's. And they did just that, latching onto his arms and dragging them from his ears.

"Ne ne, can we call you Ken-kun?" was the next squeal. No barriers available this time. Ken winced in pain.

"A…Aa."

"WAI!!!!!"

Oh Gods kill him now!

By then, they were glomping onto his sweaty body, eager hands tugging at his damp soccer shirt. "Ne Ken-kun, are you here every Saturday? Huh huh?"

Gulping, he tried prying off their hands without it seeming too obvious, though all he wanted to do was to throw them to the other end of the field. At a loss for what to say, he repeated the word again.

"Aa." He should be careful. He'd be turning into Aya if this went on.

"Yokatta!" Was the enthusiastic reply. Ken was jumping up and down on his feet. He couldn't help it, not with two jumping girls beside him tightly clutching his body.

"G…gomen..ojous..sa..san…" He could barely stutter out the words what with all the movement. "Bu..but I got…gotta..g..gooooo."

Much to his relief, they actually released him. Thank God! And better still, they actually decided to leave. Will wonders never cease?! "We'll see you again next week Ken-kun!" Two faces beamed at him.

"Su..sure." His smile was disoriented and weak. Next week? He sure hoped not.

Wary eyes studied the numerous other girls who were making eyes at him. Better run before anymore decided to approach. And so that was what he did. Grabbing his balls and sports bag, he scooted away from the field, running towards the flower shop he called home.

But before that, one stop was needed. The grocery store. He needed to get more milk and juice and Aya's jell-o. Wouldn't want the redhead to kill him when he found out that he had eaten up all of his favourite lemon-flavoured ones.

At least it would be safe in the store. He hoped.

Not much problem getting the milk and juices, except there wasn't any lemon jell-o left. Ack. 'Hope Aya is good with lime.'

Hauling his burdens with him to the checkout counter, Ken beamed his charming smile at the middle-aged woman who always had a kind word for him. "Obaasan! Genki?" She liked to be called obaasan though she was still rather young for that term. Some explanation about the term making her feel prosperous. Don't ask.

"Genki genki." Obaasan smiled toothily at him. Nothing new there.

"Ah Ken-kun. Finished playing with the children already?" Usual question. Nothing new there either.

"So Ken-kun, how was it like in the J-league?"

"Eh?!"

His breath caught. That was new. And unexpected. And before long his chest reminded him that it was also painful. Memories threatened to cloud his brain and it was only with some valiant fighting on his part that he managed to stave them off.

"Wh..what did you say?" He stuttered. How did she know about that?

Obaasan laughed at her own statement and blabbered on, oblivious to his discomfort. "Good joke ne? I always thought you kinda looked like that ex-player that my son was so fond of. He had a poster of him up in his room you know. But I bet you get it all the time ne? People saying that you looked like that goalie who sold-out his team and all that. But you can't be him right? You're such a nice boy. And I heard he was supposed to be dead and all, so how could you be him ne?…….."

Ken's face was getting paler by the minute, each of her words stabbing into his heart. He could feel his blood rushing away from his head and…no, no fainting allowed. As it would appear, no questioning on his part allowed either since she wouldn't stop talking. Oh man! What a day this was turning out to be. And it started off so wonderfully too!

Grabbing his purchases, bag, and soccer balls, he hastily mumbled some excuse about having to get home before stumbling hurriedly out of the store. Bad decision to make that stop. Damn Aya and his jell-o.

Ken closed the distance between the neighborhood grocery store and the Koneko in what seemed like record time. But it still wasn't fast enough.

The farther Ken went, the clearer his head became, the fresh air working its magic as he breathed in deep, reassuring lungfuls. Yet the clearer his head became the more he began to notice the odd glances that were cast his way. One man even had the nerve to simply stop and stare, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Disconcerted, his nerves still frayed from his encounter with Obaasan, Ken found himself hurrying down the street, eyes darting to and fro at a dizzying speed. It was like the whole world was looking at him. What? Did he have some sort of growth on his head he'd never noticed before?! Had he forgotten to put pants on? Was his fly unzipped?!

Ken had always been one of those people who took themselves for granted. He had no idea that he was beautiful, no idea that his flawless, lightly tanned skin complimented his rich, brown hair, or that his perfectly toned body and his eyes, so soft and soulful, often drove people to distraction. People he could never imagine driving to distraction. People who stole guilty, fascinated glimpses of him when his attention was elsewhere. People who were right under his nose.

This being the case, Ken, unaware of his undeniable attractiveness, usually never noticed when the odd person on the street would give him a second glance. He didn't like to be scrutinized, it made him uncomfortable, he always wondered what was wrong, what were people looking at? In a way, his hurried streak home was like a nightmare come true.

All those faces…looking…scrutinising…. His discomfort with the stares of others only fueled his paranoia.

Finally breaking into a run Ken made his way home and came up short, screeching to a halt outside the store. It was packed. Not just packed with annoying schoolgirls like it might have been on any usual day, but filled with housewives, businessmen, and for once school –boys- as well.

Either they were having the sale of the century, which knowing Aya was about as likely as Hell freezing over, and no one had told Ken about it, or his day had just gotten a lot worse.

Taking a deep breath he rushed forward and began shoving his way through the crowd. People jostled and grunted as he pushed past them, making snapping remarks until he heard somebody cry, "Hey! That's him! It's Hidaka-san!"

The people began to push towards him and Ken saw his escape route quickly being closed off. Unknown, unwanted faces pressed in closer looking him over.

"Is it really?!"

"Do you really think it's him?!"

"Hidaka-san, Hidaka-san!!"

"Kakkoii!"

Those eyes….those faces…. Ken wanted to scream to yell at the top of his lungs and tell all of those people to fuck off. He had no idea why they were about to mob him, but that only made the situation that much more uncomfortable.

Yet when he opened his mouth nothing came out, only a strangled squeak of exasperation and the faces only got closer. Now hands started to reach out to touch him too.

Was it the groceries?! Did they want Aya's lime jell-o?!

And just as it seemed like all those people were about to converge on him like some human tidal wave, a voice rang out above the din, "O-oi! Let me through, God damn it, I work here!" and a hand reached through the crowd, grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him through the people like it was nothing.

It felt like he broke from the crowd with an audible pop and the next thing he knew he was bumping against a soft, green, Armani clad chest.

Youji.

"Hey, Ken. You look frazzled," the blonde-haired playboy said, grinning down at Ken over the rim of his sunglasses.

Just then, as Ken was beginning to straighten himself out and the crowd looked like it might make another move towards him, the lean, imposing figure of one Aya Fujimiya stepped up beside Youji.

"If you aren't going to buy anything, get –out-!" he yelled, single handedly glaring down the entire collection of would-be patrons.

Omi leapt spastically to the forefront brandishing a pair of pruning shears. "Back to the pit from whence you came, evil beasts!"

"Bishounen, stop that," Youji said in exasperation, as he took Ken's arm and hauled him sideways.

To Ken's utter surprise he realized he was being passed off to Aya, whose thin, artistic fingers clamped around his upper arm like a vice and began to haul him towards the back door. "We need to talk."

Ken, simply glad to be away from the oppressing stares of the crowd, sighed and let Aya drag him away. Moments later he was being shoved, rather roughly into the back room. The red headed leader of Weiss pushed him farther into the room and then held the door open as Youji, looking rather smug, and Omi, still brandishing his shears, followed.

"Thank you, Momoe-san," Ran called out into the store which was still crawling with the mob.

As soon as the door clicked shut all three remaining members of Weiss turned towards Ken and proceeded to stare. Indigo scrutinized mercilessly, emerald laughed silently, and deep, clear blue only peered in earnest concern.

"What?!" Ken cried, no longer able to contain himself. "What the fuck is it? Do I have three heads or something? Is my hair on fire?"

His exasperation had reached its peak and he stood there panting a bit frantically, looking back and forth from one teammate to the other. When no answer came Ken grumbled in frustration and slammed his burdens down on one of the potting tables. "What is going on?!"

"Why don't you tell us?" Aya said coldly and then reached out, taking Ken's arm, pushing him towards the stairs down into the basement room.

"Uf! Jesus, what is wrong with you guys?"

The redhead looked over his shoulder and nodded to the youngest member of Weiss. "Stay with the store, Momoe-san might need help."

The small blonde nodded a bit hesitantly, and, casting Ken a worried glance, mumbled, "Good luck, Kenken," and then pushed back through the door to face the mob, shears in hand.

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Ken grumbled as Aya gave his back another shove.

"Oh, Kenken, you really are thick as a brick, aren't you?" Youji chuckled as he helped Aya to herd the brunette down the winding stairs.

When he reached the bottom, Ken tried to turn around to face his teammates, still searching for an answer that would end his confusion. But all he met with were Aya's cold eyes and then his merciless grip on his shoulder, twisting him, turning him around and steering him to the couch before the TV. Aya pushed him down onto the cushion and then stalked across the room to a high table.

Ken watched him, his nervousness growing. As if all those strangers acting so weirdly wasn't bad enough, now his teammates were treating him like some kind of criminal.

Youji came around the back of the couch and propped himself there, grinning smugly down at the confused brunette. "What?!" Ken cried again.

"Nothing, just thinking about what it must be like to be so incredibly naive, that's all."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Ken barked, starting to get up again, but by that time Aya had come back from the table and pushed him down again.

He stared down at Ken with expressionless eyes and flipped something out in front of him. As it unfurled it made the distinctive sound of crinkling paper. The scent of newspaper ink filled Ken's nose as his eyes were automatically drawn down to the item held out to him.

"What is this?" Aya said flatly.

Ken gave the paper a glance and scanned the title. "It's some tabloid," he said, looking back up to Aya with a 'so-what' expression.

The redhead narrowed his eyes and his lips became even thinner. He shook the paper to get Ken's attention again. "I know that. Read what it says."

Ken heard Youji snicker above him, but tried to ignore it. Sighing in exasperation he took the paper in his hands and looked over the headlines. As he did so he felt the color slowly draining from his face. His stomach twisted sickeningly as his heart started to beat double time.

"This….." he breathed. "This is….." But no words would come. He just sat there, staring blankly at the page.

"Let me read it for you," Aya said coldly, taking the paper back from Ken's trembling hands.

"'Ken Hidaka: Presumed dead ex-soccer star sellout, still alive?! J-league goalie involved in biggest sports related drug scandal, reported dead five years ago, may still be alive! Is this ex-star living in Tokyo area flower shop?! See page twelve for exclusive photos and full story.'"

At this Aya flipped the tabloid open to page twelve and dropped it open onto Ken's lap in disgust.

A sickening nausea rose up in Ken's stomach as he dumbly looked down at the arrangement of black and white photos. Sure enough they were shots of him. Mostly shots taken of him playing with his soccer kids, but a couple of him working in the Koneko as well. The title above the pictures read. "Area man Hidaka look-alike or real deal?! Local resident confirms subject's name!!"

Ken swallowed and stole a tentative look up at Aya who was simply staring, arms crossed across his chest, glaring down at the brunette.

All of a sudden Youji started to snicker and then spontaneously burst into a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny, Kudou?" Aya snapped, shifting his eyes to look at the blonde.

"This whole thing is hilarious! I mean Kenken's in the tabloids! This is priceless. Our own little private star. That's the first funny thing. The second funny thing is the fact that all those people actually care!"

Youji went on snickering and giggling.

Ken closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Thanks, Youji."

"Well come –on- Ken. I mean you were in J-league for like what? Less than a year? I mean the fact that anyone even cares is hilarious."

"It's not funny, Youji," Aya said dryly. "Publicity for Ken is potential publicity for Weiss. We don't need attention drawn to –any- of us."

"Oh c'mon, Aya. Who even reads tabloids?" Youji said, still snickering.

"All those people in the store," Aya answered seriously.

"All the people who were looking at me on the street," Ken added despondently. "Nohara-san, Obaasan, those girls….."

"Ok, granted," Youji replied. "But how often do you see things like this in the tabloids? 'Elvis spotted, Diana still alive?' I mean, nobody believes that shit. It will all blow over in a day or two."

"You're overlooking the important part, Youji. This is true. This isn't some made-up, outrageous claim, it's the –truth-. Ken Hidaka really –is- Ken Hidaka the ex-soccer star who was supposed to have burned to death in a warehouse. And with this kind of shit going around it won't take long for someone to prove it," Aya snapped, glaring at Ken again.

The young brunette withered miserably under his leader's stare, looking back into his lap, studying the low quality photos of himself intently.

Youji rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but why does anybody care? So what?"

"Yeah," Ken broke in, "why would anybody care? I wasn't like some super star or anything. I'd only just started playing in J-league. I was just another player as far as most people were concerned."

"Until you were convicted of drug trafficking and selling out your own team," Aya said.

"But I didn't!" Ken cried getting to his feet desperately.

"Sit back down," Aya grated, pushing the smaller man back down onto the couch. "So what if you didn't? The only people who knew that were you and Kase….. and he's dead. You were only kicked out of the league, Ken, you hadn't faced your juvenile court sentence, and now that you're no longer a minor if they try you now….."

Ken turned his face away, hating the way Aya's words could hurt him so badly. They cut through all of his defenses and hit the center of his being. Gritting his teeth he grumbled, "So what exactly is your point and why do you keep treating me like this is my fault?"

"I don't know who else's fault it would be. You didn't even change your name after Kritiker saved you. You haven't done anything to hide who you are, or were for that matter."

At this Youji began to snicker again. "Baka," he intoned.

"Didn't you think someone would notice, would recognize you? Especially since you put yourself on display every single day playing soccer with those damn kids….."

"Those kids are my life!" Ken cried, whipping his head around, fighting desperately to keep the stinging in his eyes from becoming what he knew it would.

"No!" Aya snapped abruptly, his anger showing in an uncharacteristic outburst. One deep breath and he collected himself, leaning over Ken, pressing his face close to the ex-soccer players. "Weiss is your life, don't –ever- forget that," he said in a low, icy tone.

Ken, pushed to the limit with his leader's verbal abuse, sat forward until his nose almost touched Aya's, and set his jaw. "Ie, you're wrong. Weiss is –your- life," he said dangerously.

Sparks flew between the eyes of the volatile brunette and the usually stern and collected redhead.

Aya had to admit it, from the very beginning he had had to admit it. Ken had a way of getting under his skin and inciting him to fits of emotion he could usually keep under wraps. Who else could have drawn him into a full blown fist fight on their second meeting? Who else could make him so angry now? Angry and….. worried? Reacting with anger not only because of Ken's carelessness, but also because of other uncharacteristic emotions that the article had dug up in him.

Growling in anger Aya reached out and grabbed the front of Ken's shirt, yanking him up off the couch, the tabloid newspaper falling forgotten to the ground. Ken shoved the older man away roughly, breaking free of his grasp.

The two glared at each other, the air crackling with tension, both readying themselves for what seemed to be an inevitable knock-out, drag-down.

At least it did until Youji stepped suddenly between them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Misters Over-excited, why don't you just both back off?" Youji said seriously, looking darkly at Aya. "Ken, just settle down. I'm serious, Aya, that was totally out of line, back off."

"He started it," Aya growled.

"I did not!" Ken cried, trying to make a go for Aya, until Youji cut him off, pushing him back onto the couch.

"Jesus! What are you both four?! 'He started it!' 'Did not.' 'Did too!'" Youji said, mocking them in a high-pitched child's voice.

The leader of Weiss growled and then tore away, going to stand by the wall. Ken crossed his arms angrily and sat back, his anger and frustration quickly dissipating, as it always did, turning into weariness.

"So what does this mean?" he asked at length.

Youji turned to him and flashed the brunette his thousand dollar smile. "Probably nothing, Kenken. Don't worry about it. It'll all dissipate in a few days."

"And if it doesn't?" Aya interjected.

"It will," Youji said again.

"Fine, but for now just stay down here," Aya said flatly, turning his attention back to Ken. "The shop's enough of a mess without you."

Ken stared at his leader for a moment, hoping some angry retort would come to him, but nothing did, he was only hurt, and still too confused to say much. "Fine," he sighed at length.

Youji patted Ken on the shoulder and then began to walk back towards the stairs. "It'll pass, no worries, Kenken."

Ken listened as Youji's feet retreated up the stairs. He also heard Aya grunt and make his way towards the winding staircase as well. The moment Ken heard his footfall on the first step he found his mouth opening, saying the first thing that came to his mind.

"They didn't have lemon."

A pause.

"What?"

"At the grocery store. I….. I ate the last of your jell-o, so I bought some more for you. But they were out of lemon. I bought lime instead. I hope that's ok," he said quietly, tucking his legs up onto the couch.

All Ken heard was another pause and then Aya's feet retreating up the stairwell. What he didn't see was the moment of hesitation that passed through Aya's body, he didn't see his hand still momentarily on the banister as the redhead cast him a long glance across the room. But then again….. he wasn't supposed to.

A few hours later Ken awoke from the stress induced nap he had succumbed to not long after Aya and Youji left him alone. He was awoken by an all too familiar sound.

"Ken-kun!! Ken-kun, come upstairs the shop has emptied out now, you can come back up with us!"

Omi. And dang didn't he sound chipper. Of course that was nothing new, was it?

"H-hai, Omi-kun….. I'm coming."

When Ken pushed through the door into the shop again he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was indeed back to its usual self. In fact it was practically empty. His teammates were all seated around the table, looking rather frazzled. All of them except Aya that was, he was standing behind the counter, pruning a scrawny looking rose bush.

Sighing Ken plunked down into the seat next to Youji.

"All of your admiring fans have finally dissipated. See I told you it would blow over," Youji sighed.

"Great."

"Did you take a nap, Ken? You look sleepy," Omi asked brightly, leaning over the table to smile at his friend.

Ken nodded and tried to force a smile. "Yeah, I did. I feel better for it too. What a crazy day. I really hope that all of this is over."

"Hn," Aya grunted.

Just then the bells attached to the door sounded, announcing the entrance of a customer. All four Weiss members turned to look at the newcomer to the store.

A tall, well dressed young man was leaning in through the door, one finger pulling his sunglasses down his nose. Dark, slightly tousled hair fell forward into his eyes, a wide grin plastered across his mouth.

"Konnichiwa, minna-san. Sorry to intrude but this is the Koneko no Sumu Ie, correct?"

Youji, sensing a disturbance in the force, pushed back from the table a little, his chair making a rather terrible screeching sound on the tiled floor. "Yeah, this is."

The man moved all the way into the shop, letting the door close behind him. It could now be seen that he was carrying a small attaché case with him. Prada.

"I'm so glad, I thought I was lost again. So then….. you must be Ken Hidaka, ne?" the man said abruptly, shifting his gaze to Ken who immediately froze under the man's penetrating gaze.

The chair squeaked again as Youji stood up abruptly. "Alright, buddy, I don't know who you are, or what you want, but-"

"What I want? Oh, I don't really want much of anything. I only want one tiny thing, that's all."

"And what exactly would that be?" Youji grumbled sarcastically.

"An interview."

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to be continued

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Real Authors' Notes:

Fei : Ne, Marty? How did we get started on this fic anyway?

Marty : My friend is a baka, and then you asked that stupid question.

Fei : ….. Saa…. *pauses* What question?

Marty : *glares… rolls eyes*

Fei : *pouts* Nani?! At least I remember the baka friend… *mumbles something about people who don't see the goodness of Ken*

Marty : Oh well. We were talking about how all the boys got into Weiss, remember? And then you said "If Ken was such a popular goalie and appeared on television and newspapers and stuff, why is it that he is never recognised on the streets, especially since he never changed his name?"

Fei : Oh, hai! *nods nods* Now I remember. It's a rather good question, ne?

Marty : *raises eyebrow* *pats* Hai. Anyway back to the explanation. So then I started making cracks about Ken in the tabloids, and you were laughing so hard at it.

Fei : Yeah. And then I talked about collab-ing, and you said ok, and I asked if you were serious about it.

Marty : *nods* And then I said I was, and asked if -you- were serious about it...

Fei : Hai! And then I said I was and asked if you were.

Marty and Fei : *pauses and stares*

Marty : Er...yeah, that's how it all started.

Fei : Not all that interesting when you look at it like that.

Marty : True…. Oh well!

Disclaimer : We dun own Weiss... if we did we could sue the tabloids...

Before you go, let us know if it's worth us trying to synchronize two busy schedules, 13 hours apart to write more of this, or if we should both just go back to sleeping. *points at pretty button below*