[YnM]Exercises in Genre Theory: Five Things That Never Happened to Kurosaki Hisoka and Tsuzuki Asato

[thuviaptarth]

Note: This is, as usual, boniblithe's fault. She's the one who wanted space odysseys or spaghetti Westerns. Cross-posted from fuda_100 for the AU challenge. 100 words each.

The Maltese Falcon

I knew he was trouble the minute he walked in. He was too pretty to look that innocent, and no one smiles that much unless he's got something to hide. Not to mention his clothes would have cost me six months' pay--for a busy six months.

I kept my feet on my desk and my mouth shut. If I'd stood, he'd have had the advantage of height; instead, I had the advantage of my best fuck-off glare.

"Mr. Kurosaki," he said, still smiling. "I've lost something very important. I hear you can help me find it."



The Quick and the Dead

Hisoka fires another shot, then drops into a crouch to reload. You'd never believe how gentle his touch could be, if all you ever saw was how beautifully he killed.

Tsuzuki forces himself to focus, to--

"Idiot!" Hisoka grabs his limp hand. "Keep the pressure on, you'll bleed out."

"You can't think that matters now." Tsuzuki is too weak to reach him, but Hisoka captures his hand, careless of blood, and presses a quick fierce kiss in his trembling palm. Oh, there should have been more, more than this--

"Idiot," Hisoka snaps. "I'd rather die with you than survive alone."



Strangers on a Train

Tsuzuki ducks into a private compartment just in time, turning to pacify its occupant with an automatic smile--and is arrested by a snub-nosed revolver and chilly green eyes. It's the boy who was dining with Mibu earlier, the one who was somehow involved in the commotion that had delayed Muraki long enough for Tsuzuki to escape.

"When Tatsumi told me you were the worst spy I'd ever have the misfortune to encounter, I thought he was exaggerating."

Tsuzuki stares, then grins in sheer delight. "You really are a Hitchcock blond!"

"If you call me Kim Novak, I will shoot."


Alien: Resurrection

They find the last survivor in the cargo bay. The broad black stripes across his cheeks make him look dangerous: tattoos or paint, Tsuzuki tells himself, ritual markings, makeup, something like that.

"What happened?" Hisoka asks. It's gentle, for Hisoka.

His eyes glitter crimson in the flashlights' glare. "We died. We all died."

"Obviously not all of you," Hisoka says acerbically.

"Oh, I died. I just came back. A little different. You can tell."

"Different how?" Tsuzuki asks.

The man's teeth are very white and very sharp and Tsuzuki is not at all sure that's a smile. "Not human anymore."


Bringing Up Baby

"--That is, he told them Watari had an evil clone, only he said he was Watari and Watari was the clone--so Mr. Tatsumi, that's the bank president, tried to trap us without scaring his other customers, so we managed to get out to the parking lot with him still following, but we didn't realize that it was a different blue Ford, especially since Wakaba left the key in the ignition just like Watari always does. And that's how we accidentally stole Terazuma's car."

"What I still don't understand," Hisoka said, after a pause, "is where the leopard comes in."