Seven Unforgettable Encounters With Aliens (Team Comedy: Amnesia)

[badluck_koi]

Title: Seven Unforgettable Encounters With Aliens
Prompt: Amnesia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, Sexual Innuendo, Possible Squick Innuendo involving tentacles, and a very unimaginative title.

Notes: Thanks to Zelinxia and my roommate for helping me both choose a fic to stick with and encouraging me to stick with this one. 

Fai was in trouble, not-life threatening-end-of-the-world-trouble – that was last weekend – but trouble none the less. He had a crush. It hit him hard, around the same time he was wrapping up the end-of-the-world-trouble. The object of his devotion was a grumpy employee of the best coffee shop in town. Only a few technicalities stood between him and a romantic relationship with “Hello, My Name is Kurogane.” For example, there was a small cultural barrier to overcome. Kurogane was a Japanese-American and Fai was from another planet.

Also, Fai was obligated, as part of a covert organization dedicated to keeping paranormal life secret from the public, to wipe the barista’s memory on more than one occasion. They had a bad habit of running into each other while Fai was on the job. Although they had met several times, known each other in life-altering situations, and even though Kurogane accepted his alternate life-style as an alien secret-agent, Kurogane did not remember any of their history. He only knew Fai as the annoyingly sharply dressed weirdo who regularly ordered a cup of coffee grounds and milk. Earth caffeine was famously addicting – one of the many attractions of the blue-green planet.

On his home planet, Fai was accustomed to having no shortage of friendly faces, so different from the piercing glares Kuro-human sent his way. Celecians believed that strangers were just friends you didn’t know yet. It took years for Fai to understand how a whole species could coexist without sharing emotions or exchanging personal thoughts. However, he was intrigued by the concept of conservative communication, how humans could form bonds while keeping some thoughts and emotions only for themselves, inhibiting and selfish, but still simple and poetic. He first became interested in human culture through poetry (translated to Celese). The symbolism and hidden emotion in the language, in literature, in music, the realization that a whole species kept their treasured thoughts and emotions locked and guarded, that expression was like a gift, a rare chance to find a key to a person’s thoughts and be rewarded with a small glimpse and promise of more in the future…. Fai was what some would call a Humanist, a human fan-boy. His adolescence was spent learning human languages, writing Beatles songs (And being devastated when the news about the band’s disbandment reached his planet), and receiving notices from the MIB requesting him to stop sending fanmail to national leaders.

Fai was considered an oddball and a loner on his own planet; it took three whole weeks before he exchanged his innermost thoughts to his first lover. His parents were concerned that their son would never grow out of his social awkward phase. However, they accepted that their son was antisocial. He never quite fit in on his home planet. He dreamed about coming to Earth, not only because of the culture, but because he needed some time to himself, with just his own mind, without feeling the pressure to psychically bond just to be social. He was only comfortable sharing his deep secrets with a few close friends.

On Earth, he found his place as an M.I.B Agent – Members in Black; the Agency was changed from the Men in Black, not only to be more inclusive, but to be more accurate. It became apparent that most of the agents were women, aliens, members of different genders, or just completely alien to the concept of gender and manliness to begin with. Between the dangerous, surreal, and sometimes very gooey missions, Earth was a comfortable and welcoming second home to Fai. He had lived in this city with humans for eight years, adapting to their unique customs, eating their food, protecting their existence, and filing taxes. Only in the last few months had he started to regret his career choice.

It began five months ago while he was waiting for a contact at the Piffle Café. “Hello, My Name is Kurogane,” happened to take his order, and he happened to stare at the man for an uncomfortably long time while thinking to himself that he was a perfect specimen of the human species. He might have said that out loud, and the barista might have raised his eyebrow while filling his order. That could have been an awkward mistake if Fai didn’t recover with an awkward smile and quick follow-up:

“That probably sounds weird and creepy.”

And if the barista didn’t shrug it off with a composed remark, “Weirdos are still welcomed as long as they don’t cause trouble.” Fai should have known better than to mix work with socializing. He smiled and took his milk and coffee grounds, and waited. He waited and waited for his contact.

As he waited, the barista… Kurogane…Kuro-pi (Adding pi to a name was a very affectionate way to address someone on Valeria, as was chu, hyuu, poa, and many others. He carried some of Celesian culture with him.) offered him another cup and said, “We do sell coffee bean candies,” when he noticed Fai’s curious snack.

“How lucky,” Fai said, wondering if he was talking about the delicious caffeine confection or the perfect human who took time to pay attention and talk with him. His contact might not have shown up, but he felt extremely lucky that his first impression was not a disaster. “Is this on the house?”

“Not even fancy Weirdos get by for free,” he said in deadpan. On his home planet, Fai was certain that he would never have heard such a pick up line. “You are very attractive and well-dressed, and this is an invitation to know you better. Wanna hold hands?” sure, but not this covert non-pick-up line. This human was the perfect example of a well-guarded treasure box, and Fai was almost certain, about 70%, that Kurogane was giving him an opportunity to find the right key to his true feelings.

“And what if this weirdo behaves?” he said.

It looked as though Fai’s contact wouldn’t show up, so he felt comfortable bantering with this interesting person, and pondered the possibility of getting to know the man better. That was when his contact arrived; or rather the corpse of his contact flew through the glass window. The agent was a bit ashamed as the worker had sensed the danger first and yanked him away from flying glass. Fai immediately detangled himself from the human and looked at the mess he had to clean up. Work and leisure just did not mix well.

“What the hell was that?” Kurogane exclaimed as the commotion cleared. Everyone in the coffee shop stared at the reptilian alien-man on the table.

“Oh… Jimmy,” Fai said with a sigh, grabbing the note attached to his back. The reptiloid always managed to get into some sort of mess, but this was the first time it caught up with him. Fai’s hearts pounded as he looked at the illegible alien handwriting on the note. Unfortunately, this looked like his last.

Kurogane’s eyes followed him, but not in the way he was hoping. Acting more professional than he felt as he internally cursed his job, life, and the alien-holes that fucked up his entire Kuro-planned evening, he called for back-up and crowd control.

“Well,” he said to everyone still staring at the scene in shock, but mostly Kurogane. He pulled out his standard issue sunglass visors and pulled out his neuralizer. One hour should do it… He didn’t even tell the cute human his name.

The barista tensed up, and Fai sensed that he was prepared for trouble. “Sorry for the confusion. I hope this answers some of your questions,” he announced, sounding as if he was confident that the small metal cylinder he held really contained the answers. “And I hope the rest of your day is less confusing.” With one press of the button, a bright flash engulfed everyone in the room. Afterwards, a crowd of dazed civilians and one suspicious barista stared at him. He supposed it would not have mattered if he shared his name, as Kurogane would not remember the last hour.

Thinking of a cover story, he jerked a thumb behind him and explained, “Cosplayers.”

That was only first impression number one.

2nd First Impression

Kurogane should have known that he worked at the hot spot for alien gatherings. The owner of the café, Tomoyo Daidouji was a very cute and seemingly young entrepreneur, except she was older than the building, still cute and small in her real form, humanoid but a lot more colorful and frilly. Pifflians were known as the galaxy’s peacocks. Disguising as a human for a Pifflian meant hiding their fabulousness. She found a way to cope with her drab unicolor skin through fashion and design. A half a galaxy away from home – three galaxies away from Fai’s home, she managed by designing her café to shine as bright as the star in Piffle, which explained the expensive florescent lights that Kurogane always complained about. He never would have guessed his boss was an alien, but Fai imagined that he suspected as much.

Tomoyo was clever and cooperative with the MIB when it suited her. The agency considered her connections to the alien underground more of an asset than a hindrance, and by some miracle, illegal aliens considered her cooperation with the MIB an asset as well. Piffle was safe for business. The manager selectively ignored some activities but was quick to recognize illicit criminal activities that threatened MIB security. Basically, both parties benefitted from Piffle Café’s existence. This arrangement did not always work though.
Some aliens did believe that the Piffle café was the doghouse for the MIB, the type that did not come to Earth for vacation, the kind that had more to hide than a smuggled bag of Jupiter X smoke. Those types threw MIB contacts’ corpses through windows with threatening notes. Tomoyo begrudgingly consented to having one agent regularly patrol near her café. Nothing was more stubborn than a business owner protecting her establishment. Regular fed patrol was bad for business, as the alien café owner pointed out in very detailed and colorful presentation graphs. Commander Yuuko could not argue the negative correlation between black suits and peppermint latte sales. However, Yuuko was quick to point out the negative effects of projectile aliens on returning sales.

The minuscule chance that Fai could have known Tomoyo’s employee a bit better had a slight effect on his insistence to volunteer. He did believe Tomoyo would be more comfortable with an alien agent. He was just lucky enough to have his excuse be reasonable to all parties. A daily dose of caffeine and Kuro-myu would also do wonders for his moral.

MIB agents worked in pairs. Sometimes partners formed close bonds, and other times partners seemed to complement one another’s weakness. Agent A. and he were the latter. A. was the antithesis of Celecian expression. Fai stopped worrying about friendship and stopped wondering what thoughts were hidden behind that stoic face a while ago. A. would stand in front of a cephalopod for her partner with nothing but a dagger. She would immediately assist Fai and ask if he was injured but nod and walk away once she was satisfied that he was fine. She never said she cared but she never let him die or throw him out of the car when he tried to make her smile – eight years of effort and counting.

Fai was not expecting his partner, unless everyone at headquarters was taken over by a hostile parasitic race, to fuss over a side solo mission, especially one that ran the highest risk of a full bladder from too much coffee and nothing else. Yet, she fussed in her own way. Agent A. lent him her lucky dagger and reminded him to check his communication equipment. “Hit first, call me second, ask questions later,” she ordered. Fai may not have been able to get Agent A to smile for him, but the deathly serious way she told him that before dropping him off had a way of curling his lips for the rest of the day.


For some unforgivable reason Fai could not establish a good rapport with Kuro-chu like he did before, not from a lack of effort. Fai visited the café daily. The barista knew the alien’s order by now.

“I think I’ll try the coffee bean candies, today,” said Fai with a wink. “I heard they were good.”

“Would you like anything else?” he asked while tapping a silver pen on his notebook. Fai was the unluckiest alien on planet Earth. He looked at the boarded up window and wondered what sparked Kuro-pi’s interest before, and if he could duplicate it. The window of opportunity, just like the window in the café, was gone.

“Weren’t you here when that drunk cosplayer crashed through the window?” asserted Kurogane, looking back and forth between Fai and the window. He was impressed that he recalled that much. The confounding effect of the neuralizer usually took longer to shake off. He doubted that most onlookers remembered his hair color. “Are you some type of law enforcer? LAPD?”

“Something like that. Mostly, my job involves a lot of regulation,” he said evasively, “I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”

“You’re not going to tell me then?”

“I have to be a little bit mysterious,” he joked. He felt the light jolt of another opportunity and added, “Is it working?”

“You might have to work harder,” he retorted. Fai appreciated the low rumble in his voice. It almost sounded like a laugh, and Fai was almost certain that was an invitation. He could have just said, “I am open to being ravished by snuggles and light groping.” That would have worked on Fai’s planet.

Celecians had a word for the feeling of being tickled from the inside when two Celecians form an eternal bond, but Fai did not know how to express it using any spoken or written human language. Without a psychic connection, it would probably take too long to express it actually However, Fai never felt it with another Celecian, and he questioned whether it existed. It took a human for him to grasp this Celecian concept.

“I’ll let you in on some confidential information,” Fai said at the height of the ticklish feeling, “My name is Fai.”

“So that will be a cup of milk, half a cup of coffee grounds,” he said in a very concentrated voice as he scribbled on his notebook. Fai had to wonder if he tortured the alien on purpose or if he really was that obtuse. “And a complimentary order of chocolate coffee beans for the caffeine addict at table 5,” he added with the same professional tone with an additional smirk.

What was the saying Fai learned when he first landed in Los Angeles? “One step forward. Two steps back.” He did not even have time to remember what that saying meant before a plasma shot shattered the light above his head and interrupted another Kuro-planned day.

Scanning the café, he found the barista, that brave handsome bastard using a mop to wrestle an alien and pin him to the wall. The other shooter ran past him. Instinct and Kuro-blocked-frustration propelled him to seize the assailant by the arm. What species the assailant was didn’t matter; his ventral area slammed into the medial surface of the table, and a bitter part of Fai hoped that the alien’s genitals were also located on the side that hit the table. Fai looked behind him, his eyes locked with Kuro-mi still holding the other alien a foot above the floor with a broom handle, and the feeling hit him again. He swallowed that sentiment and turned back to his task. Roughly he turned the shooter around and punched him. Usually, he was innovative enough to find other ways to restrain a culprit with little violence (one time he was inspired by a cartoon and tied one guy up by his own tentacles), but Fai was currently assaulted by strange emotions he did not know what to do with.

He reached for his communicator to call his partner, “We have a low level breach. Two assailants, discharge of restricted weapons.” He swallowed, and added, “And one witness.”

“Dispatching back-up,” Agent A said.

Punch the assailant. Check. Call his partner. Check. He supposed he could ask questions now. “Do you realize how long it is going to take to make up for the time I lost with Kuro-pi because of you?”

3rd First Impression

Lately, Fai had been sulking. He performed routine alien visa background checks, he sulked. He infiltrated a Doldunian smuggling ring, he sulked. He patrolled the Piffle Café, he moped on the table and questioned what deific force he pissed off to incur this punishment. He thought his partner put up with him only because comparably, he was handling disappointment well. At least, he didn’t partake in the ritualistic month of tears that was common for his species after experiencing heartache.

“It’s Fai, right?”

“Yeah, I...,” he responded but paused when he realized that it was the coffee-bringer of his dreams talking to him. “How do you know my name?” In response, the man passed him a credit receipt with Fai’s name on it. “Oh.”

“You come here daily,” Kurogane said. Fai had to wonder what the man meant. Once again, the barista’s emotional guard was on full force. “You never finish your order. I’m usually not one to ask, especially when you consistently pay and leave a tip, but it’s starting to get annoying how easily you waste money and food. If you don’t want to order, don’t. You can just come in and have a seat sometimes, as long as you don’t cause trouble.”

Kuro-chu did not remember being Fai’s hero, fighting aliens together, bonding over silly banter – Fai knew his playful side and that he was the only barista that could wrestle an armed criminal – but he did know how to say the right thing to Fai. “Thank you.” When Kurogane nodded and walked away, leaving the tip with Fai, the alien felt elated, ticklish again. He was ready to tackle whatever fucked up destiny interfered with “snagging that cute human posterior end” (as it was commonly said by Earthlings in America). The barista was acutely observant and stubborn, but he also was kind enough to spare a little thought to a blond stranger in his café. Fai could not be so weak as to give up after only two attempts.

4th, 5th, and 6th First Impression
Fai gave up!

“We are not hosting an intergalactic dating service,” Yuuko had told him after the third time he politely requested to change confidentiality protocol to exempt soul mates from neuralization.

He laid face in pillow in his apartment, too exhausted to bother with human disguises. He had called and cancelled Lennon’s appointment at the vet. She was more than happy with the arrangements, content to just lay by him, purr, and paw at his tendril. Maybe some higher force was trying to tell him his relationship was doomed. He never let physical technicalities bother him before, but he started to wonder if Kuro-pi would freak out. He was humanoid enough and had no complaints from any of his old partners…, but how did Kurogane feel about slightly blue skin and a few extra appendages?

He also worried about Kuro-flash’s mental health. No human had been neutralized five times. He blamed himself for attracting alien attention. How could paranormal activity always interfere just when they were hitting it off? Fai thought deeply about the ramifications of dating a civilian. Other aliens managed…, but then he remembered that those relationships never ended well. Some alien species did not handle rejection; coupled with the problem of keeping alien life secret from the human population, interspecies courtship was highly regulated. To even begin filing papers though, both parties had to agree to start a relationship. Fai was lucky that Kurogane remembered his name!

The last few months were a mess. It felt as though a treat was being dangled directly in front of him. As soon as he was within reach, it was maliciously yanked away.

The first incident that month happened after Kurogane joined him for coffee on his break. He needed the company and he found that the barista was easy to talk with, mostly because he let Fai do all the talking. They found some common ground talking about their parents. Fai learned that Kurogane’s parents were still uncomfortably infatuated with each other, causing Kurogane no small amount of embarrassment. However, Fai challenged that his parents could out-mush Kuro-pu’s parents. They had a friendly competition of sharing stories and talking about their own experience. Fai was still hesitant to hope that this was more than friendly banter.

The scene was too friendly, too natural to last.

The Temarinian migration happened maybe once every sixteen years. For those not in the know, Temarinians were astral beasts that existed in another dimension, very difficult to predict. At times, they crossed in large herds through dimensions to reach breeding grounds faster. Fai had no idea how intergalactic hunting permits regulated Temarinian season. He contemplated filing for a hunting permit, feeling a tad envious that those horny creatures choose that moment to migrate through dimensions.

Fai did not even want to talk about the Uranus Spider infestation. Just when you find out that the human of your dreams had a talent for yoga and kickboxing, a swarm of extraterrestrial purple spiders crawled out of the floor mats. Tomoyo believed they hitchhiked with a sketchy group of Ballchinians she kicked out last week. Fai believed they were a very deliberate conspiracy against his love life.

Their relationship intensified… to space crafts. He ran into the human in the park. Actually, Kurogane ran into him in a T-shirt that clung to his skin with the sweat from his early morning jog. Fai had to admire a species, and the way their bicep muscles glistened, who used a biological cooling system with their own H2O reserves. The site was enough to momentarily dumbfound Fai. He felt as though he was the one neuralized and could not remember why he was running.

“Fai!” the static voice of his partner interrupted the awkward and beautiful moment of Kurogane leaning over Fai. Both their minds were trying to catch up with their bodies that just collided together.

“Sorry,” said Kuro-poa roughly, breathing rapidly, “Are you hurt?” His arms shook, but he still helped Fai to his feet.

“Fai?” Agent A. called again, “Position!” They both stared at his hip pocket. Usually, Celecians were not self-conscious. However, a human woman’s voice was calling out of Fai’s pocket. All he could think about was an escape route. He was knee deep in a mission that involved the fate of the world and spaceship invasion on the scale of space invaders. If his partner and him did not activate the portable aircraft net in time, he would not have a confused Kurogane to neuralyze later.

“Sorry Kuro-poa,” he gasped out quickly, “I can’t stay!” He almost ran away, but a sharp tug on his arm forced him to turn around.

“Who are you really?” demanded Kurogane. Months of confusion, of knowing but not knowing the blond who frequented his café, and Fai guessed suspicion, fueled the man to ask further, “What are you after?”

“I’m really sorry Kuro-chu,” he said with all honesty. If only Kurogane knew all he had to be sorry for. He was so sorry… He felt the cold metal of the neuralyzer as he reached inside his pocket. “Really sorry,” he repeated.

“FAI?” Agent A.’s voice called more persistently.

The alien pulled out the communicator and answered, “I’m thirty meters from position.” Putting away that device, he addressed a still confused and persistent Kurogane. “Watch out behind you!” he said urgently. Kurogane, ever being the reluctant hero jerked around and put himself in between the imaginary danger and Fai. That was all Fai needed to slip away and sprint into the nearest rose garden, once again, some of his best tactics inspired by cartoon antics.

The invasion was neutralized just in time, but Fai had yet to recover from his recent encounter with Kurogane. He took the sweet-sixteen high school girl approach and hid in his room the rest of the night and until the next morning. His answering machine buzzed all night that night. Knowing that MIB emergencies transferred directly to his communicator, he ignored the persistent caller. Besides, he had no idea who would contact him on his day off.

Mustering up some energy, he lifted himself from his comforter, jostling Lennon’s perfect sleeping spot and pressed the button to play his messages. Lennon purred with irritation and secured the warm area in the middle of his bed. He had no other choice but to dress.

“Fai, this is A.” the first message played as he pulled his only suit out of the drawer, “If you are having difficulties keeping your head at work, take some time off. You’ll hurt yourself if you continue to space out like you did last night.”

The second message was the same, “Fai, A.” the voice played while Fai stared at the machine in wonder, “What I meant was, you don’t have to choose between your personal health and work. If you need time off, I understand.”

“It’s A. again,” the third message played while Fai secured his tie, “I’ll be out of town next week, taking some personal time off, so Yuuko will lighten our workload. We both have vocation days left. After the mission last week, I think we should enjoy it while the Earth is still around.”

“Agent Fai,” said a different sweet voice through the machine, “Sorry to bother you this time of day and on your private line.” Tomoyo? Over the past few months, he had developed a friendly relationship with the café owner despite wiping her employee’s memory a few times, but he did not expect her to call him. “There’s some business that I don’t want to attract too much attention from the MIB, and I hope you can help out. I understand if this is asking too much.” He couldn’t help but feel slightly manipulated. His curiosity was aroused and he felt compelled to help out the concerned café owner. Against all better judgment, he prepared to help out the accursed establishment.

7th First Impression

“Expect the unexpected.” Fai was sure that wasn’t a saying on Earth, but he really should have expected as much. He was greeted by the sour face that was his amnesiac soul mate when he arrived at Piffles. The sign said Piffle closed at 7 pm and it was 7:45 pm! What was Kurogane doing?

“What are you doing here?” Kurogane questioned first. Fai found his tongue unable to produce sounds that he practiced since he was a teen. What was he doing there? He did not know. Kurogane was an employee and had every right to be at Piffle, and Fai was not even from this planet. Why was he there?

“Is it Fai?” called Tomoyo.

“Yeah,” Kurogane called back.

“Let him in,” she ordered. Fai and Kurogane were not close enough to share a psychic connection. He did not even know it was possible for a Celecian and Human to share a link, but he could tell that both he and Kurogane shared in confusion.

“Come in,” said Kurogane, leading him back to the kitchen. Fai never saw the Piffle café so drab before. He never saw it with all the lights off and no patrons. He never smelt it without the heavy earthy quality of cocoa beans, and he never heard it so empty without the soft buzz of conversation. However, he did hear something, something like the clatter of drunken monkeys. Kuro-poa watched him carefully. What Fai imagined at first to be wariness of him now was wariness for him. Kuro-poa was concerned about what Fai would see behind these doors.

“Before you leave,” said the barista, holding his arm in front of him and holding the kitchen door where it was, “I want to ask you something.” Fai made no promises. He put his hand on the door and opened it with Kurogane without giving an answer.

“Annelids,” Fai said with a sigh as he looked at the mess that was a kitchen. Coffee grounds everywhere, cigarette butts, eggs, and other substances Fai did not want to identify splattered the walls. Aliens lounging in the mixer, swinging on the ceiling fan, and passed out on the fridge, all drunk off their little rocker. Worms, as they were called, small bipedal aliens with frat boy personalities that often came to Earth to indulge in debauchery that was not socially acceptable on their planet. End-of-the-world trouble, they were not, but they were often on MIB radar, and the topic of many alien anecdotes.

“It’s their first time on Earth,” Tomoyo explained, “And their parents would not like it if they got in trouble with the officials on their first day here.” She unplugged the mixer before one of the guys was tossed out of it and turned to the two taller men pleadingly.

Rounding up drunken aliens in a café…, he did not know how he was going to explain this one to Kuro-pi. He was taking in the weirdness of the situation with a lot more serenity than Fai would have expected. He picked up one of the worms by the scruff like a cat and hauled it to the spare room above the coffee house as Tomoyo instructed. In fact he did not ask questions until all the drunken aliens were passed out in the room and the kitchen was safely locked.

“What the fuck was all that?” he asked. He folded his arms and looked down at the two aliens.

“Who wants coffee?” Tomoyo said quickly and left the two men in the abandoned café.

“Well,” he responded, stalling for the short alien to return. His hearts beat against each other as if they were trying to box out of his chest. “Well…,” he continued to explain.

“You’re the only human in this building?” Fai said quickly. Kuro-poa raised an eyebrow. After witnessing a frat boy alien party, maybe that revelation was not surprising. “There is a lot of stuff that goes on in this café that civilians are not supposed to know about.” Seriously, how long could coffee take to make. He felt manipulated by the little alien once again.

“That I’m not supposed to know about?” he clarified. Fai nodded, not able to continue. Was he surprised Kurogane caught on that fast? No. He knew him well enough. “And what happens if I find out?”

“We make it so you never did find out,” he confessed. He felt liquid leak from his eyes. He was not about to cry for a month, though. He smiled and gathered his emotions before tears could fall from his watery eyes. It was considered rude to hide emotions on his home planet, but it felt better to act rude to Kuro-chu.

“That explains a lot,” said Kurogane. He looked around, possibly wondering where Tomoyo was with that damn coffee. Fai noticed how rude the other man was acting too. “I suppose that does answer my question as well.” He smiled, almost serenely, like he expected the most peaceful death.

“What?”

“Whether I knew you,” Kuro-what-the-fuck-did-the-neuralyzer-do-to-his-brain, answered. He grabbed Fai’s hand and shoved a notebook into it. Fai recognized it as the pad he always took his orders in. He turned the page in the pad and saw the first written sentence.

Blond man in black suit. Favorite drink is Milk. Always orders coffee grounds.

And next to that…

Fai.

He continued to read days’ worth of Kuro-notes.

Ask him about the window.

Don’t forget to ask Fai.

The notes became more detailed, and Fai realized that Kurogane, all this time, was keeping track of him, leaving notes and clues to himself. Realizing that he should have remembered something and linking it with Fai. Each page filled with more detailed notes.

Fai ran away today. The dumbass pulled a trick on me. He’s hiding something, but he is probably causing himself more trouble. He looked like he wanted help. I don’t know what for, but he needs help. Someone that sad and lonely, and idiotic doesn’t need to keep secrets. Keep an eye out for him.

Fai looked back up at Kurogane and wanted nothing more than to abduct him like in those cheesy 60s movies – except they could fly to the Bahamas or something.

“What happens if someone does find out?” Kurogane asked him.

“If I let that happen,” Fai said evenly, “MIB protocol is strict. Aliens that violate the code of secrecy usually face deportation back to their home planet. There are exceptions to the rules and cases can be made to….”

Kurogane took the notebook back and told him, “It’s okay, I understand. Do it. If the choices are that simple, if the consequence of finding out something I am not supposed to means you have to leave, then do it.” He flipped the book over and put it in his pocket. “I’ll be fine getting to know you again rather than knowing I was the reason you had to leave.”

Fai hesitated. He really considered abducting Kuro-poa and taking him to a remote island, but he was almost certain that would break at least 16 violations. His communicator beeped and ruined the moment, yet again. It was a curse, an alien conspiracy every time he and Kurogane had a moment. He listened to the message on the other end and put his communicator back, knowing he should feel guilty for feeling that relieved.

“New plans tonight, Kuro-poa,” he said, “It seems my partner just retired… homesick.”

“What’s her home planet?” said Kuro-poa curiously, hopefully catching the invitation.

“Missouri,” Fai answered, laughing when Kurogane rolled his eyes. This was definitely the start of a fulfilling relationship. And for once, paranormal activity did not have to ruin their whole night, which was very good as Fai was still finding ways to ease Kuro-chu into tentacle sex.

Happily Ever After and Tentacles

Arashi Arisugawa, mysteriously returns to her husband after losing her identity and disappearing for eight years. Sorata Arisugawa says after all this time, “I never doubted my honey would return.”

Happily Ever After… Really.
~the end.

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