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Leon had finally escaped from a long day on the job, and not empty-handed.
“Apple spice cake!”
If D didn't squeal like that, people wouldn't mistake him for a woman half as much, Leon thought. “It's not from me. Jill's aunt, cousin, or something or other has pretty much turned her place into a bakery and she can't give the stuff away fast enough.” Leon ought to know—his stomach was still full of cookies, muffins, and pie. He didn't hold out any hope that D had something that wasn't dripping with sugar, but maybe one of the restaurants nearby wouldn't mind making a delivery of something to keep him from going into insulin shock. Leon could barely keep his eyes open and when you were around D, anything but complete attention could be dangerous.
“Exquisite, and obviously handmade. You can tell someone put quite a bit of work into this.” D monitored the lethargic Leon as he sliced cake for himself and Chris. The Detective is going to be asleep before Chris is, D thought. Why couldn't humans practice moderation once in a while? He poured tea for Leon and refreshed his own cup along with Chris'. “Do convey my thanks to Miss Jill.”
Leon had picked up his cup and snorted into his tea. “Yeah, no. She told me to say it was from me, but I give you too many sweets now as it is.” I don't know what kind of tea this is, but there isn't nearly enough caffeine in it to keep me awake, damn it. Leon downed the entire cup anyway.
'Count D! The box! You promised we could open it when Leon came!' Chris tugged on D's cheongsam, excited.
D smiled indulgently. “Indeed I did. Perhaps your brother will remain conscious long enough for us to see what's inside.”
Leon's eyes snapped open from their heavy-lidded droop. “I swear, if some weird new animal is going to pop out and take somebody's head off—”
“Detective, you are well aware I would do nothing to put Chris at risk. Furthermore, the box is sealed and has no air holes, making it unlikely in the extreme anything living could be inside!” D's nostrils flared as he cut off Leon, indignant.
'They're fighting again.' Chris looked at T-chan, resigned.
The man-eating goat, who'd been half-asleep at Chris' feet until D and Leon started bickering, got up, trotted over, and bit down hard on Leon's left hand.
“Aaaaaaah! Get this monster off of me!”
“Detective, if you would stop antagonizing, Tetsu—”
“I didn't do anything!” Leon was trying and failing to shake Tetsu loose, flinging his arm wildly from side to side.
'T-chan!' Chris was about to burst into tears.
Tetsu let go reluctantly. 'If he wasn't your brother... Anyhow, I'm sorry—so no crying!'
“They put down dogs that attack people, but not that damned goat!”
“Tetsu was simply feeling overprotective, Detective. No need to upset Chris any further.” D tilted his head towards Chris, and Leon turned to take in the sight of his wide, watery eyes.
Leon was still irritated, but he tried to be a little less loud about it as he wrapped a handkerchief around his hand. “Next you'll complain that I'm bleeding on your stuff.”
D matched his softer tone. “Now that you mention it, Detective...”
“Just open the damned box, D.”
“This is from my old friend Mr. Davidson. He used to spend many hours in my shop,” D explained as he used his sharp fingernails to effortlessly slash though the packing tape. “A letter as well!” D picked up the envelope that was resting on top of the smaller box inside, and frowned as he read the return address. “This is addressed from the estate of Drake Davidson.”
“Estate? Like dead guy estate? What did you sell him? Freaky ferret? Cannibalistic carp?” Leon glared at D suspiciously.
“Nothing, Detective. Mr. Davidson has always been severely allergic to animals of every sort. He was an artist,you see, and though he could never have a cat, dog, bird, or lizard, he preferred to use animals as his subjects. In fact, Mr. Davidson was so passionate on the matter that I allowed him to do his work here, even though seeing a man in a biohazard suit was extremely disturbing to my other customers. He gave up on animals recently because it was torture to be so near them without touching or interacting with them in any way.” Frowning, D removed a black lacquer box from the package. “Mr. Davidson planned to try working on rare flowers instead, and the last time we spoke he'd intended to travel to a specialty garden in China—he asked for my recommendations about the area if I had any.” D carefully propped open the box's lid.
“Now, Chris, this is what I had intended show you—the finest, most realistic waxwork you will ever see.” D lifted out of the box what looked like a common alley cat encased in Lucite, but it was much smaller than a full grown cat could ever be in reality.
'Can you open it, Count D?' Chris wanted to pet it and see if the orangey fur felt as real as it looked.
“We mustn't Chris. This is a special wax, and anything above room temperature—your hands, for example—would cause it to melt. That wouldn't be any way to treat a gift.” D turned to Leon to make sure he was still paying attention. “Don't you agree, Detective?”
Leon's eyes had already started to drift closed again, and he had to blink a few times to keep them open. “Hmph. I could get a ceramic cat that wouldn't melt for a buck at the dollar store.”
The look D gave Leon said he pitied him a great deal. “Forgive me, but I can hardly take any artistic opinion of yours seriously, Detective.”
Leon yawned. “Whatever. Why don't you let Chris see the case? Unless that'll melt too.”
D handed the case over to Chris, and Tetsu leaned in close to get a good look. D opened his letter while Leon drifted off to sleep, noting there were two different senders, and their contents were what he'd expected.
Count D,
I'm leaving this letter in the care of my attorneys. They'll see to it you get the last of my creations. It isn't as grand as some of the exotics you were kind enough to allow me to model, but I think somehow you'll understand. Plants aren't for me, and they never will be—unless you count the taste of forbidden fruit. I know this can't last long, but it's worth it to me. Don't worry—after I'm gone I'll see the cat is sent to a proper home. I know you'd not approve any other way.
D. Davidson
The other letter was from a law firm, confirming the cat figure had been willed to him, and condolences on the loss of Mr. Davidson—largely lamenting his easily preventable, and seemingly senseless death.
“As is often with humans, what Mr. Davidson couldn't have was what he wanted the most. ” D concluded, folding the letters up and slipping them back in the envelope.
'The guy was done in by some mangy cat? Humans are idiots.' Glancing at Chris, Tetsu amended, 'Mostly.'
Chris didn't look offended. 'Can we put Leon in my room for the night?'
“I think it would be best. No need to wake the Detective and make his mood even fouler.” D smiled and arranged for Leon to be under the covers of Chris' bed, while Chris changed into his pajamas to join him.
D watched Chris climb in next to his brother, and dimmed the lights. His thoughts grew darker as he watched them both sleep. D had started to wonder if it was only humans that made those kind of mistakes. Chris was only a child, but Leon was something different all together. D felt cold—he did not need a stray cat of his own.
D was still a long time, and not noticing the flutter of Q-chan's wings, he had to be roused from his thoughts by an inquiring 'chee'.
D sighed and shook his head. “For Icarus to fly too close to the sun, we must first make our wings.”