A/N: My special thanks to nightgigjo. As part of the Big Bang Event on The Review Lounge, Too, Jo was assigned as my writing cheerleader. She not only supported this work, but made it better. And as a plus for us KnB fans, she's started watching the anime. I call that a win-win.

Kise signed autographs for thirty minutes, all the while scanning the crowd for a man worthy of Akashi's love, his trust. There were a handful of men in the crowd, mostly limp-wristed and too young for someone as dignified as The Emperor. Kise glanced at his watch, it was 2:55 and the security detail was at the plane's door.

Akashi, stripped of the bulky disguised and was hidden in an electrical panel behind the coat closet in the front of the plane. He couldn't say with 100% certainty that the men were part of his father's vast security network, but he would stand the discomfort of being unceremoniously squished into this undignified space if it meant he'd be free at the end of the day. In the dark, the only thing that he could see was the luminescent face of Furihata's cheap watch; it read 15:01.

He'd traded his normal watch, a memento of his late grandfather, with Furihata's digital Seiko. He missed the heft of the gold band; he missed the memory of the man who'd given in to him; he missed the warmth of the man who wore it currently, but he wasn't going to be caught by something stupid like sentimentality. Wherever he was right now, Furihata had that specific timepiece on his wrist, and if it had to stay behind in Japan… well, that would…

A few moments later, a knock sounding the all-clear came and with the assistant's help, he unfolded from the hiding place. He took the first seat in the last row of seats. He wanted to look out the small oval window and see if, just if, he'd been right to trust in Furihata, but he couldn't, not with his recognizable shock of red hair. He slumped against the seat back in front of him and stared as the seconds counted by on the watch face. It was 15:10 pm.

Furihata had had a rough afternoon. He was freezing from walking around in such ridiculously inappropriate attire for the weather; he was tired, desperately so, from the chase and pretending to be Akashi; and he was embarrassed from the pat down when he'd gone through security and then found out that he hadn't needed to do so in the first place. All he wanted to do was be himself, and maybe take a nap.

He'd taken every conceivable form of transportation today: bus, train, taxi, and now he could see Kise's plane, still in the hanger, waiting for him. He'd seen his coat, wrapped around Akashi, as the other man boarded the plane and felt the lump that had been lodged in chest all morning fade away. If he didn't make it… if the plane took off without him, there were still other ways of contacting Akashi and letting him know why'd he'd failed to turn up on time.

"Will it be enough? Can I find the strength to say goodbye?" he muttered as he stood in line waiting for his turn to meet Kise. "Is this fledgling trust between us strong enough to survive?"

Kise's hand was cramped and as he looked at the last person standing before him, he had a vague spark of recognition, but that wasn't unusual, he knew so many people, after all. He sighed and checked his watch. It was closing in on 15:20 and with or without this mystery lover, they were pulling out of this hanger by 15:30, even if he had to fly the plane himself.

"What would you like me to sign?" Kise asked as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. It wasn't this poor kid's fault that Akashi's lover hadn't shown.

Furihata was unprepared, and Kise couldn't help rolling his eyes as the he patted his pockets and pulled out the first thing that came to hand.

"Um, my phone case?"

"Sure, kid, do you want it personalized?"

"Yes, Furihata Kōki," he said as he watched the security team head back into the terminal with the bulk of the passengers still on the tarmac.

Kise stopped, mid-signature, and a wide predatory grin spread across his face.

"Why don't I sign this while we all toast the plan at 13 thousand meters?"

As the plane settled into cruising altitude, Kise kept up a nonsensical line of chatter of which Akashi was barely conscious. His mind kept his eyes looking continually around, in complete and utter disbelief that he was no longer in his father's immediate clutches.

Furihata slipped his hand underneath Akashi's on the shared arm between their seats. Kise smiled, a little proudly, but continued as if Akashi holding hands with another man was the most natural thing on earth.

"My assistant manager will accompany you to the Clipper's office. She's made an appointment for you to meet with the coach about an hour after we land. It will take at least that long to get there. She's smart," he said, indicating the woman a few rows forward with his head, "and she'll work hard for you."

"Yes, thank you, Kise," Akashi mumbled. He used his free hand to knock back the rest of the bottle of French water Kise had given him. He was still thirsty. "May I have another?"

"You can have all of them, if you want." Kise laughed, but got up and found another bottle himself.

"I didn't think you were coming...," Akashi finally said. "What about your fish?"

"You're worried about the fish?" Furihata laughed."You delivered the letter to my neighbor, right?"

"Yes."

"I gave him my spare key. He'll look in on the fish for the weekend. And before Monday, I'll send him an email telling him I'm not coming back."

"You -"

"Here," Kise handed over the imported water, and a single white pill. "Take this, you'll feel better for it."

"What is it?" he asked, suspicion overriding his exhaustion.

"It's a sleeping pill. You look like you've played Serin again for the first time. Don't even try to tell me your ok. You need sleep, Akashicchi. Swallow that pill like an obedient friend," Kise insisted.

Akashi held the little pill in his hand and considered it.

Furihata leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry, Jiro; I'll stay awake the entire time."

Akashi put the pill on his tongue and swallowed it.

In ten minutes he couldn't keep his eyes open; in thirty minutes his restless mind stopped and he sagged on Furihata's shoulder and slept for six hours straight.

Akashi was fresh and relieved by the time he and Kana-chan, Kise's assistant manager, sat in the Clipper's head office waiting room. All around him trophies and posters of the team's past glory surrounded him. The smell of old basketball leather and sweat cloyed at his nostrils, cementing that this was the correct choice.

It's perfect, he told himself. Koki's work is perfect. They will believe my story...

"Seijūrō Akashi?" A loud American voice boomed from the open door into the office.

"Yes, Sir," Akashi said, bowing.

"Oh, don't be so formal, kiddo. I'm Sheridan Clarke, General Manager," the man said, pulling Akashi's hand into a shake. "We've been waiting for you. We'd almost given up hope that we'd ever hear from you."

"My letter, it was delayed," Akashi said, overwhelmed by the quick and dirty American English.

"Why look at that thing!" Clarke said. He took it between two fingers, played at sniffing at the envelope, and then threw it in the nearest wastebasket. "Forget that now. When can you be ready to start?"

"I...," Akashi looked back over his shoulder at Furihata's careful constructed forgery, discarded without a thought. "I can start right away."

"Susan," Clarke called out to the woman behind the desk. "Call a press conference. We have our new Point Guard!"

As the last of the reporters filed from the room, Akashi tumbled backward into one of the chairs in the the front row while Furihata perched on the edge of the platform stage. Akashi looked up, and meet Furihata's eyes.

"Am I dreaming, or is it actual over?" Furihata asked. His hands were still trembling from the excess of adrenaline.

"Over? The press conference certainly, but the rest has just began. Koki, I'm finally -"

"Sir, Mr. Akashi." One of the secretaries interrupted his thought. "There's a phone call for you on line one. Just pick up and push the flashing light."

"Who is it? Did they say?" Akashi asked, suddenly tense and alert.

"Oh, yeah, sorry; it's your father."

"Thank you," Akashi said. He tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn't get his lungs to fill. It felt like there was a blockage somewhere right above his breast bone. Furihata saw the panic rise, as the color faded from Akashi's face. He jumped up and came to one knee in front of Akashi.

"You don't have to take the call," he insisted.

"No, if I don't… there will be other consequences. I knew once the announcement was made, he'd move, but I didn't expect it to be this soon. I will say things… to my father that are untrue. I want you to know that upfront. I have to be someone else with him, in order to survive. You understand that, right?"

"Of course. What do you want me to do?" Furihata asked.

"Stay with me. I may need to lean on your strength for a little longer," he admitted. Akashi got to his feet and walked the meter to the phone. When he picked up the receiver, his arm quaked. It felt like forty-five kilos of steel, instead of the cheap plastic it was made from. He quickly hit the button for line one, then the speaker button, before returning the receiver to the cradle.

"Father." It was only word, but it sounded strong and he found a little more capacity in his lungs as the word left his mouth.

"Well played Seijūrō, I hadn't expected such a bold move on your part. I'm almost proud of you," His father's voice was cool and lacking of any real emotion. Furihata put his hand on Akashi shoulder.

"You've taught me well, Father: 'When an Akashi wants something, he should make it happen.'"

"It's good to know that you can put my lessons into action. I'm a tad disappointed by the artlessness of the whole affair. The Clippers? I believe you could have held out for better, but so be it. If you want to be associated with such a controversial team, you've made your decision."

"The Clippers are a team that I can mold. They are in disarray and now is the perfect opportunity to pounce. You taught me that as well: 'When a corporation is at its weakest, it is the correct time to 'acquire' them.'"

"I find it amusing to hear you parrot my teachings back to me," Akashi-sama said with a tone so smooth it sounded like the fine edge of a blade when drawn against a whet stone.

Akashi clenched his jaw to stop the chattering of his teeth. His whole body shivered at the menace in those words. Furihata wrapped both arms around Akashi's middle and pulled him tight against his chest. The shivering abated just a little.

"There will of course be consequences for this little rebellion," his father said. Akashi waited. There was a pause of dead air, as if somehow the line had been disconnected. "But what will suffice with you being so far away in California?"

Akashi grabbed at the laced fingers resting on his stomach and pulled them closer, clenching them hard in his own hands.

Furihata nuzzled the nap of Akashi's neck until the tense redhead relaxed just a little, then he propped his chin on the other man's shoulder and waited.

"I was thinking that perhaps a proxy would work in this case. Your co-conspirator, Furihata, his parent - "

"Mean nothing to me, as he means nothing to me," Akashi interrupted.

"Oh?"

"Furihata is a pawn to be used and discarded; that was another lesson you taught me, Father," Akashi dismissed. His fingers dug into Furihata's hand and in return those hands squeezed him tighter. "His desperation to leave Japan for the United States suited my purpose, nothing more. You also taught me, Father, to have no emotional ties to people."

"A lesson well applied then. The Akashi Foundation is already working on a press release. You will of course, toe the Akashi Foundation line on your involvement with the team and your goals while in America. In the off-season you will continue your studies, and you will represent the Foundation at meetings, on that side of the ocean, of course."

"Yes, sir," Akashi finally answered.

"As the heir to the vast Akashi Foundation, your behavior during this time away will be judged most harshly. Do not fail me, Seijūrō."

"Yes, sir," Akashi repeated. The phone line went dead as Akashi-sama disconnected the call without so much as a farewell.

Akashi stood for a moment, frozen in his spot, then turned in the embrace, burying his face in Furihata's neck.

"You're free," Furihata muttered against Akashi's hair as he settled his arms around the still shivering man. He ignored the fact that his shoulder was wet and getting wetter by the second.

"I'll never be truly free," Akashi sniffed. "But this is better."

"You can live your life -"

"I'm so sorry he threatened your parents," Akashi looked up, his garnet eye apologetic, while his golden eye was angry.

"You took care of it," Furihata released Akashi so he could grab that tear-streaked face and make him look him in the eye.

Akashi tentatively smile. "But that warning about my behavior was a direct threat. If anyone finds out about us, he will hurt your family."

"Then no one will find out, Jiro. From now on, I'm your personal assistant, right? Yes, Akashi Seijūrō would have such a person on hand at all times."

Furihata took one pointed look around the room, then for once, he initiated the searing kiss.

"Yes," Akashi agreed, straightening. He could take a full breath again.

Yes, yes, indeed. I picked well, when I choose Koki.

A/N: Well, that's the end of Priorities. It's been fabulous writing these two and their story. I love all my readers, especially those who have taken the time to review me (please review this chapter, too!). This won't be the last of Akashi and Furihata in the Partner's Universe. I'm gearing up to begin posting the sequel which will combine the story lines of Partners and Priorities. The first chapter should be up next week (but won't be updated as regularly as this one because Real Life).