Crossing Fates : Special Story 4 - The Dragon Throws A Party (BakuDeku)

19 - Facing The Music

"For being such a bright people, sometimes the Djinn are remarkably clueless," Katsuki muttered. He turned his attention to him. "Denki's on his way. How long do we have until dinner is supposed to be served?"

Calculating rapidly, Izuku said, "Soon. Maybe in five or six minutes. Niyne checked in with me just a little while ago, and I told her fifteen minutes. That was when I went to take the extra place setting off the table, and-and-and- "

Words seemed to stick in his throat as his brain seized up again.

Giving him a sharp, questioning glance, Katsuki put one bracing hand on his back again, right over the tense knot between his shoulder blades. Grateful for his silent touch, Izuku managed to stop stuttering.

Denki rounded the corner and strode toward them, his body a fluid, fast machine. He didn't waste time asking questions when he reached them. Instead, he swept the scene quickly with those hard eyes, taking everything in, and then he turned to Katsuki.

Izuku was used to seeing Denki smiling in a laid-back stance, usually with hands tucked into his jeans pockets. It always jarred her when the sentinels flipped some internal switch in their heads and went into warrior mode.

Katsuki said to him, "Guard Izuku. Go where he goes, no matter what."

"You got it," said Denki.

Before Izuku could mention that Ochaco was a perfectly adequate guard, thank you very much, Katsuki added, "And Denki? If necessary, you fly him out of Tokyo, and you don't stop flying until you both get back to the Tower in Musutafu."

So that was why Katsuki wanted Denki guarding him, not Ochaco.

Ochaco was a highly trained, effective warrior, but her Nyr form was canine. Not only could Denki fly, but he also had the strength to carry Izuku in flight.

"Understood."

Denki turned that hard gaze to Izuku, and his expression softened somewhat as he looked down the length of his body at his sock-cladded, smudged feet.

Furiously, Izuku wanted to snap at both men for thinking they could decide his fate without his input, but he managed to catch himself up before he said anything he might regret later.

He wasn't thinking as rationally as he could be, and he knew Katsuki wasn't either.

The dragon had seen a dead body and clicked into hyperprotective mode, and nothing was going to ratchet him down again until he felt like he had gained some measure of control over the situation.

There was that concept again- control over the situation.

He glanced at dead Mr. Kuni again and nearly burst into hysterical laughter.

Like him going into hysterics was going to help anybody. He managed to swallow that impulse down too.

Katsuki turned an incandescent red gold gaze onto him. He said, "Stall dinner for as long as you can. Go."

He nodded. "Got it."

With Denki on his heels, he ran barefoot to the kitchen, which was awhirl with activity.

The kitchen staff was busy preparing the second course to follow the salmon soufflé, delicate grilled endive salads with light shavings of aged parmesan cheese and paper-thin Parma ham arranged in a fan on top.

He didn't try to talk over everybody else. Instead, he said telepathically, "Niyne, we need to stall dinner for at least another half hour. Longer, if possible."

The chef spun to face him, eyes widening in dismay. "We can't stall dinner! The soufflés are almost done cooking!"

Normally he would be much more gentle with Niyne's wounded feelings, but now he didn't have the emotional or physical time.

He told the woman grimly, "We have much bigger problems right now than the soufflés. Get another round of hors d'oeuvres outside as fast as you can."

"But they're all gone!" Niyne quivered visibly.

Izuku threw up his hands. "Send out the salads then! Send out anything, along with more alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol."

Niyne rounded on her staff and started snapping out orders.

As Izuku turned to Denki, Ochaco slipped into the kitchen, caught sight of him and walked over. "When are you going to announce it's time to go into dinner?"

"I'm not," he said grimly. "Run upstairs and get me a pair of shoes."

Ochaco stared at his feet. "What happened to the ones you were wearing?"

"Later," he told Ochaco.

"But you only have one pair with you that matches that outfit. Which ones do you want?"

"I don't care," he cried. "Shoes, get me shoes. Dark ones, that nobody will notice."

At that, Ochaco seemed to catch up with the fact that something had gone badly awry, because her expression changed until she looked much as Denki did, bladelike and focused. She took off running.

"I need alcohol too," Izuku told Denki.

He meant it desperately.

The man took him at his word, strode over to the counter where the liquor bottles sat, swiped up a bottle of cognac and handed it to him.

Izuku took a long pull, coughed and handed it back to him. Denki drank from the bottle as well.

Niyne rushed up to him, wide eyes teary. "What should I do with the soufflés?"

Izuku's gaze went unfocused. He stared into space a moment. Then he said, "Burn them."

The chef's expression quivered. "They're made with Balik Fillet Tsar Nikolaj smoked salmon. We can't just burn them."

"Yes, we can," pushing past the woman, he rushed over to the ovens and turned them to their highest settings.

Niyne followed behind him. "What are you doing?!"

Izuku said between his teeth, "There are too many guests with sensitive noses. We need the smell of something burning to fill the air. And I need to be able to tell the truth when I go out there and say we've had a slight accident in the kitchen, and dinner's going to be a little later than we thought."

"That would never happen in real life," Niyne muttered. "Not in my kitchen."

"Nobody outside the Nyr knows that," Izuku said. "At least I don't think."

Denki dropped the cognac, and the bottle shattered on the floor.

Everybody stopped what they were doing to stare at the man.

Denki said, "Oops. Accident."

Ochaco loped back into the kitchen, carrying a black dress shoes. Izuku snatched at them and slipped them on his feet.

He told Ochaco, "Find Kacchan. Do whatever he needs."

"But..." the other woman paused. Normally Ochaco guarded Izuku, no matter what. Clearly confused, she looked from Izuku to Denki.

"We're switching roles tonight," Denki told her. "Go."

Ochaco shot out of the kitchen again.

Izuku strode to the liquor counter, grabbed another bottle at random and took a healthy swig from it. The two hits of alcohol seemed to make the buzzing in his ears fade away, until he felt dizzy with his head stuffed with cotton wool.

The first faint hint of an acrid smell filled the kitchen.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay."

Izuku waited another minute until the acrid smell grew stronger, and then, followed by Denki, he strode outside with a big apologetic smile to face his powerful, intelligent, and not-altogether-friendly guests.