Title: Backstage Pass
Author: Rubious
Rating: PG-13
Warning: humor, shonen ai, AU-OOC.
Pairings: Ban + Ginji, Shido + Emishi
Disclaimer: Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.
Archive: This story is archived at mediaminer.org under “Rubious2” and at my home page.
Note: Ban and Ginji want to surprise Paul with a special present for Christmas.
//thoughts//
* * *
Admiring the cheerful glow emitted from the small fiber optic Christmas tree, which was displayed on the counter in the Honky Tonk, Ginji Amano asked the proprietor, “Master, why didn’t you get one of those big Christmas trees instead of this little one?”
Putting down his newspaper, Paul chortled, “Where would I put it? He gestured to the small confines of the café. “Besides, it’d be a fire hazard.”
Ginji glanced around the interior of the Honky Tonk, noting the different holiday decorations. Strings of lights hung in the window blinked steadily; bright red poinsettias were placed in each booth, and a wreath with sprigs of holly adorned the front door. He mused that it certainly felt a lot like Christmas, even though the 25th was over a week away.
The holiday warmth the blond was feeling contrasted with the dour expression on Ban Mido’s face “Ban-chan, what’s wrong?” Ginji asked solicitously.
Setting down the mug of coffee, Ban spoke in a solemn tone, “If this is supposed to be a joyous time of year, when will someone shower some good tidings on us? We’ve only had one measly assignment this month. If it weren’t for the generosity of our friends…” He paused and looked at Paul, who nodded.
A sympathetic smile on his face, Ginji approached his partner and put his arm around Ban’s shoulder. “Please don’t worry. Hevn will surely have something for us soon,” he said optimistically.
There was the sound of a newspaper rustling as a section of it was spread across the counter to enable the leaning proprietor to examine it more closely. “Hmm. Very interesting,” Paul remarked.
“What is it, Master?” Ginji inquired.
“I never expected to see this,” he said, pointing to an advertisement for an upcoming concert in the entertainment section of the newspaper. He refilled Ban’s coffee mug and then poured a cup for himself as the two youths listened to him wax nostalgically.
Twenty-five years ago in 1978, Paul had attended a concert at Budokan with some classmates and their elder siblings. The album recorded from the band’s performance that night was the breakthrough for the group’s success in the ensuing years, through their popularity was fleeting as their chart success lasted only a few years into the ‘80s.
Ginji listened with rapt attention to the man’s tale. “Master, I didn’t know you were such a musical scholar,” he complimented.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” the proprietor replied, smirking.
“Cheap Trick, ne? Hmm. I wonder if they’d want us to find some of their old fans and bring them to their show. For a fee, of course,” Ban proposed.
Paul rolled his eyes upon hearing the wild idea and resumed reading the newspaper.
Turning to his partner, the blond whispered, “Um, Ban-chan, wouldn’t tickets to that show be a nice Christmas gift for Master.”
Though Ginji was filled with good intentions, the troubling reality of the Get Backers’ financial situation precluded the possibility of purchasing the ducats. “I’m sorry, but we can’t afford it unless…” Ban replied. His words trailed off when he heard a bell over the front door jangle as someone entered the Honky Tonk. Ban’s blue eyes brightened upon seeing Natsumi and Hevn set down the shopping bags they had been carrying on the counter.
“Our problem has been solved,” the Jagan-user stated, his gaze fixated upon the buxom blonde unloading the shopping bags.
“Are you sure?” Ginji asked, following Ban’s line of vision to the intermediary.
“Positive. With her contacts, she could snag some tickets for the show in no time flat,” he replied confidently.
“Ban-chan, she rarely does anything for free, especially for us.”
“Bah! I’ll pull the Christmas shtick on her. Just watch.” With that, Ban approached the blonde and suggested they talk in one of the café’s booths. Ginji then joined then.
After sitting down, the female agent studied the two teens seated across from her. Ban seemed to be in his normal brash mode, concocting schemes to make ends meet between missions, while Ginji was oddly reticent as if something was bothering him. Peering over tented fingers, she inquired warily, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“A favor,” Ban said, which received a raised eyebrow and an “Oh, really” look from Hevn.
Ginji interjected, “We were wondering if you’d be able to secure some tickets for a concert at Relics. Master saw this band 25 years ago and they’re playing an exclusive anniversary show at Relics. We want to surprise him with tickets to their upcoming show.” He took a deep breath and smiled.
The blonde woman glanced over at the counter where the café’s proprietor stood oblivious to their conversation, engrossed in his newspaper and sipping coffee while Natsumi finished stowing away the purchases from her shopping expedition. //He’s quite a mysterious guy. Who would’ve known he was afraid of heights?// A mirthful smile crossed her lips as she mused about the Honky Tonk’s owner.
“Okay, I’ll get your tickets for a price,” she announced.
Ban frowned at hearing his idea would be fulfilled with strings attached. “What’ll it cost us?” he asked resignedly.
“You two perform a mission in exchange for my procuring the tickets for Paul,” she replied, his golden eyes twinkling.
“We’ll do it,” Ginji happily accepted the terms. He beamed because the initial hurdle in obtaining the gift had been crossed.
“What’s the mission?” the brunette asked bluntly.
Hevn explained that her client, Mr. Denshiro, hadn’t received several packages that he had been expecting. Checking with the shipping companies did not resolve the situation, but did yield useful tracking information. The client had become very concerned because the packages contained sentimental items. “He indicated he would share the contents of one of the boxes with you upon a successful recovery,” she clarified.
“Please assure Mr. Denshiro that the Get Backers have a 100% successful recovery rate,” Ginji boasted. Turning to his partner, he added, ‘Ready, Ban-chan?”
“Yeah. Just as long as we don’t get stuck with another melon,” he said bitterly, recalling a past assignment.
“But the melon was tasty,” Ginji replied sweetly as Hevn outlined the information from their new client.
* * *
Three days later, the Get Backers successfully retrieved the errantly delivered packages for their client, a very grateful Mr. Denshiro, who rewarded them with one of the retrieved packages. Ginji examined the box, which was decorated in a blue and white wintry snowscape design. The curious teen eagerly wanted to open the box and pore through its contents, but yielded to his partner’s suggestion of waiting until later that night for a post-concert get-together at the Honky Tonk
“Does Master suspect anything about the concert?” the blond asked.
“I don’t think so. He wanted to have a holiday gathering earlier in the evening, but Hevn told him we had a prior engagement and wouldn’t be able to come until late,” Ban replied, an anticipatory grin on his face.
Just then, the duo walked into the café and settled into a booth to wait for Hevn’s arrival with the promised ducats. They didn’t wait long as their ticket coordinator strolled into the Honky Tonk five minutes later.
“Hevn!” Ginji called anxiously. As the woman came over to the booth, a moue of disappointment appeared on the youth’s face, but quickly vanished when she showed them the tickets. “Hurray!” he exclaimed, but he was quietly shushed with a glare and a jab to his ribs from Ban. Rubbing his side, Ginji mumbled an apology.
The trio discussed the best approach on how to present the tickets to Paul. After deciding on a course of action, Hevn got up and went over to the counter where the unsuspecting restaurateur stood, engrossed in his newspaper.
“Paul, could you come over and settle a bet for us?” she asked coyly.
Before answering, Paul observed the attractive woman’s demeanor. Usually Hevn acted serious in business matters, but this afternoon she was behaving in a more flirtatious manner. Her attire, a violet blouse unbuttoned partway to show her cleavage, which was accented by body glitter, and a pair of white hip-hugging jeans, was more risqué. She wore her bountiful blonde locks pinned up. An amethyst and diamond necklace with matching earrings and stiletto heels completed her ensemble. Yes, she was definitely putting on the glitz tonight.
“Sure. Lead the way,” he replied, catching a whiff of her sexy perfume.
Watching her sashay with the purposeful strut of a fashion model on the runway, Paul contemplated that Hevn was probably headed out for a night on the town with Ban and Ginji. They probably wanted him to settle an argument over which nightclub to go to. When he reached the booth, he glanced at the smiling trio and asked, “What can I help you with?”
Hevn replied, “Your presence is requested tonight at an exclusive concert at Relics.” She took the tickets out of her purse and placed them on the table. “Four VIP passes that includes a meet-and-greet with the band before the show and backstage access.”
With infectious smiles, Ban and Ginji chorused, “Merry Christmas, Master.”
Hevn added, “Merry Christmas, Paul. We hope you like the show.”
The proprietor was taken aback by the generous gift and in a rare moment took off his glasses. “It’s very kind of you. This is a total surprise. Whose idea was it?” he asked.
Ginji proudly said, “Mine, Master. After you mentioned the ad for the concert in the paper the other day and told us about the Budokan show, I wanted to get you something special for Christmas.”
Touched by their kindness, he replied, “Thank you very much.” Realizing the concert was that evening, his expression turned to one of concern. “But what about the holiday party for tonight? I have to stay to handle the food and other arrangements.”
Waving his hand dismissively, Ban stated, “Don’t worry about it. We took care of everything. Natsumi and Himiko will be here in a few minutes and will mind the place while you’re out with us. We’ve told the other guests that the party has been pushed back to a later hour.” He then deftly lit a cigarette and took a drag from it.
“Ban-chan, you think of everything,” remarked Ginji as he watched a lazy tendril of smoke waft upward as Ban exhaled.
Her eyes turning to Paul, Hevn declared, “You can’t go out looking like that,” noting his outfit of a blue apron, white long-sleeved shirt, and khaki pants would not be suitable for a trendy nightclub. “Let’s see what you have in your closet,” she said, pulling the protesting proprietor to the stairway that led to his living quarters above the Honky Tonk.
Hevn was not a stranger to acting as a fashion consultant; on a previous occasion, she had assisted the unkempt Shido in assembling the proper attire for attending a concert by Madoka.
Ban snickered at Paul’s plight. //The only time I’ve seen him not wearing that outfit was when he accompanied us in masquerading as the string quartet during the assignment to retrieve Madoka’s violin. If I recall, he looked rather dashing in a tux.//
While Paul’s closets were being critiqued, Himiko and Natsumi arrived at the Honky Tonk. Ban explained they were waiting for Paul to get ready and then they would be leaving for the nightclub. They chitchatted for fifteen minutes until everyone’s head turned in the direction of the stairway door.
As the Honky Tonk owner sauntered into the café, there was silence as the others took in the change in Paul’s attire. “Definitely more stylish,” Hevn commented approvingly.
“You didn’t have to go to such trouble,” Paul retorted. “I feel like I was ambushed for one of those fashion makeover shows. I meant I would’ve gotten dressed accordingly.”
“In what lifetime?” the blonde retorted. “If you had your way, you’d have worn torn jeans and an Asahi Beer t-shirt.”
“But I like things casual,” he said defensively. In the mirror behind the bar, he caught a glimpse of himself and admitted inwardly he liked the change of dressing up for special occasions.
Natsumi couldn’t believe what she saw before her. Her boss wore an iridescent blue shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a waist-length black leather jacket. His trademark shades completed the ensemble, but the most noticeable difference was the lack of the blue bandana on his head. Instead, Paul’s wavy brown locks got to be unfettered and not covered in an unruly mess. “Master, you look very fashionable,” she commented.
The Get Backers gave him a thumbs-up.
The sight of Paul without his bandana reminded Hevn of a sexy florist who had delivered some flowers to her from a thankful client.
“Shall we go?” Hevn asked, glancing at her watch. “We have to go across town to Roppongi and rush hour traffic is so troublesome.”
“Let’s rock and roll,” Ban said, as he and Ginji followed the two older people out of the Honky Tonk to the Subaru.
* * *
Situated in an entertainment complex that contained several nightclubs in the bustling Roppongi district of Tokyo, Relics featured musical acts from the ‘70s and ‘80s that would appeal to the retro-loving clientele the club catered to. Outside on the marquee was the sign announcing “Cheap Trick in concert tonight.”
As the Subaru pulled up outside of the club, the passengers disembarked and Ban handed the keys to the parking valet. He was pleased that valet parking was one of the perks that came with the VIP passes; otherwise, they would have wasted precious time prowling for a vacant parking spot that in most likelihood would’ve been quite a distance away from the building.
The four concertgoers showed their passes at the door and were directed to where the meet-and-greet session with the band was wrapping up earlier than scheduled, but an emergency delivery from the airport had just arrived and the musicians needed to check on their equipment.
“Are you disappointed at not meeting them?” Hevn asked.
“No, that would’ve been a bonus to what promises to be a great night. This sure beats another quiet evening at the Honky Tonk,” Paul replied.
The blonde smiled warmly and sought out the band’s road manager and introduced him to Paul. The manager, a veteran of many tours, shook hands with the bespectacled fan.
“So you were at the Budokan show all those years ago, huh?” he remarked, a tad skeptical of the claim.
“I sure was,” Paul answered, grinning. He reached into his wallet and took out a tattered ticket stub from the 1978 concert.
The other man was flabbergasted. “Wow! You really are a dedicated fan. I bet there aren’t too many of you that were around who went to that show.” He signaled to one of his assistants to find some memorabilia, which he then presented to Paul. “Here are some commemorative T-shirts that were made especially for this concert. Have a good time and enjoy the show.”
Ginji waited for Ban to return with some snacks from the refreshments table and suddenly felt an uncomfortable chill down his spine. When he felt the touch of a gloved hand on his shoulder, his face paled as he croaked out, “Ban-chan?” To his horror, he saw his partner across the room piling a plate full of hors d’oeuvres.
Then, a familiar yet dangerous voice spoke to the alarmed youth. “Ah, Ginji-kun, fancy meeting you here.” Akabane Kurodo stepped out from a darkened portion of the room; a violet eye peering out from beneath his wide-brimmed hat that was tilted at a jaunty angle on his head.
“Aka…Aka…bane,” he stammered, stunned to see the presence of the enigmatic Doctor Jackal backstage. He regained his composure a moment later and asked, “Ban and I surprised Paul-san with tickets for the concert. Um, why are you here? I didn’t know you liked old music.”
The debonair doctor smiled and replied, “Actually, I’m here on business. Mr. No-brake and I had to transport the band’s equipment from the airport after some poor souls shipped it on the wrong flight.” Akabane fondly recalled carving bloody “J”’s into the bodies of the unfortunate baggage handlers earlier that day.
Ban had returned carrying a plate of snacks, which he offered to Ginji and Akabane “So Jackal is working as a roadie now?” he chortled.
Akabane brushed aside the insult. “It’s nice to see you, too, Ban-kun. I’m afraid my work here is done for the moment. Good night, Ginji-kun, Ban-kun.” With that, the dapper doctor disappeared into the recesses of Relics.
Departing the backstage lounge, Hevn walked over and stood in the wings off the stage, checking out the interior of the nightclub. Posters and memorabilia of pop music icons from the past adorned the walls. As roadies finished testing the light system, she observed the audience that was slowly filtering into the dimly lit club. Most of the audience seemed to range in age from thirty to the mid-forties. There was a smattering of younger faces in the crowd.
A slew of business opportunities crossed the intermediary’s mind. //Since we’re in an upscale area where people have a lot of disposable income, this might be a good night to make some business contacts. There’s bound to be a lot of items that tend to get “lost or stolen”, so this would be a potential boom for clients for Ban and Ginji, too.//
Before she could leave and mingle, a brawny lad in a Relics Security T-shirt tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Miss, the show’s about to start. VIP pass holders get to watch the show from backstage. Your friends are waiting for you there,” he said politely.
“Thank you,” she replied, a bit distracted, but still flashed the bouncer a gleaming smile and privately wished she could spend some time alone with the beefcake.
Ten minutes later, a representative from the concert’s
sponsor strode onto the stage and loudly announced, “Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to tonight’s show commemorating the 25th anniversary of
their breakthrough show at Budokan. I present to you, Cheap Trick.” He hustled
off the stage as the band launched into the opening chords of “Ain’t That a
Shame”.
As the group blazed through renditions of their hits, Paul basked in the energetic atmosphere created by watching the performance from so close. His head bobbed along with the steady beat provided by the rhythm section. He grinned when he noticed Ban mimicking an air guitar during a scorching solo by the ball cap-wearing lead guitarist.
Over halfway through the show, the tempo slowed down with the power ballad, “ The Flame”. As the blond vocalist strummed an acoustic guitar and sang the opening verse, fans in the audience took out their lighters and held them aloft; the tiny flickers of flame sprouted like flowers opening up to greet the morning sun. To Ban watching in the wings, it looked like a candlelight vigil. Feeling caught up in the moment, the Jagan-user emulated the audience by flicking the lighter given to him by Yamato Kudo and raising it in the air.
Giving his partner an admiring glance, Ginji said, “Oh, Ban-chan.”
He turned his attention back to the stage where the guitarist was tossing guitar picks from a bag mounted on his microphone stand into the crowd like a person feeding a flock of ravenous birds in a park. This only stirred the audience more as they shouted for the anthem that made the band famous.
“I Want You to Want Me” roused the audience further, some standing on their seats, pumping their fists, and screaming for more as they clamored for an encore.
Thirty minutes after the show ended, on the drive back to the Honky Tonk, Paul breathed deeply and then said with a dazzling smile, “What a rush! I had a blast tonight. I want to thank everyone for the tickets. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“You’re welcome,” Ban said and nodded to Ginji, who took out a small gift-wrapped package from the glove compartment.
“Master, we got you one more present. You can open it up once we’re back at the Honky Tonk,” Ginji said mysteriously.
Arching an eyebrow, Paul wondered what further surprises the night held in store.
* * *
The yellow and black monument sign of the Honky Tonk was wrapped with garland and holiday lights, blinking a festive welcome as Ban parked the Subaru in front of the café. As the quartet entered the cozy confines of Paul’s establishment, melodic holiday music by Mannheim Steamroller played on the boom box behind the counter while Natsumi and Himiko finished the party preparations. The other guests, Emishi, Shido, Jubei, and Kazuki had arrived earlier and were seated in two of the booths.
Ginji warmly greeted his friends. “I’m glad everyone could make it.” Glancing back, he saw Ban had taken his usual seat on one of the bar stools and was sipping a mug of steaming coffee that Natsumi had poured for him.
Ban wanted to speed things up and open the box from Mr. Denshiro. If there were food inside, he would eagerly indulge in it.
Hevn assumed control of the gathering and announced. “Welcome to the Get Backers Christmas party. Everybody has worked as a Get Backer in one capacity or another this year. I’d like to propose a toast to the Get Backers.” She raised her glass of punch in salute and gulped it down. Unbeknownst to everyone else, she had poured some vodka from a flask in her purse into one of the two punchbowls.
“It’s time to open up the presents,” Himiko declared as she distributed the wrapped packages from where they had been stashed earlier by Natsumi.
Amid the flurry of torn paper and discarded wrappings, came squeals of delight and appreciative smiles as the gifts were opened. Kazuki proudly displayed a new set of bell ornaments for his hair while Jubei admired his present. Emishi smiled at the gift certificate from a food stand for some free fried octopus.
Paul was surprised when he saw the two-CD set of the Cheap Trick Budokan concert. “It’s a remastered version released to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the album,” Natsumi commented. She had found it in the record shop during a recent shopping trek.
Some of the other presents were a motorcycle helmet for Himiko, a deluxe ping-pong paddle for Natsumi, and a rare perfume for Hevn that Himiko had found.
Shido’s gift was a copy of the latest Pixar DVD. “It’s righteous!” joked Emishi in an Australian surfer dude accent, mimicking one of the film’s animated characters.
The Beastmaster nodded at the comedian. “Cool. I didn’t get to see this in the theater.”
“Did you know they’re making an animated sequel in which Starfleet searches for a lost Vulcan. It’s called Finding Nimoy,” Emishi quipped before going to get another serving of punch.
The only gifts that hadn’t been opened were for Ban and Ginji. Ginji lit up when he saw the fingerless gloves and a blue bandana. He noted that it matched the color of Paul’s doo-rag. Finally, Ban’s gift was revealed to be another of his uniquely styled, long-tailed white shirts.
“Thank you very much. These shirts are very hard to find,” he said.
Ginji glanced over at the blue box that was on the floor besides the stool. “Ban-chan, aren’t we going to share the reward we got from Mr. Denshiro? We didn’t bring any presents.”
In a low voice, Ban answered selfishly. “This is for us.”
Frowning, Ginji spoke pointedly, “Which is more important to you? Your stomach or your friends?” With his rebuking words, he picked up the box and doled out some of the items it contained. “Happy holidays, everybody,” Ginji said with an innocent smile.
Slumping his shoulders like a scolded child, Ban shuffled over to where his colleague stood and helped him hand out more gifts. He gave Natsumi a large scarlet utensil and a bag of cookie mix.
The waitress smiled, “Thanks. I’ll make the first batch for you,” as she held up the Big Red Spoon.
“Those should be delicious,” Ginji remarked with a grin. “I love the aroma of fresh baked cookies. Maybe Himiko could find a way to bottle that scent?”
Hearing the exchange, Lady Poison chimed in, “Once anyone smelled it, their mouths would start watering.”
Emishi laughed at the package of Fruit Roll-ups. Opening up a sheet, he licked it and then opened his move to reveal it had left a design on his tongue. Shido remarked, “If Mido tried it, his would be a snake. Right, Snake Charmer?”
Furrowing his brow, Ban retorted angrily, “Yours would be a damned ape, Monkey Trainer.” The decibel level from their bickering escalated, sending Kazuki and Jubei home to escape the unpleasantness.
“Master, do you mind if we leave now?” Natsumi asked. “Himiko said she’d give me a ride home,” she added.
“Go ahead. I’ll clean up here,” Paul said. As the two girls left, he called out, “Drive safely.” The loud argument pounded like a jackhammer on his eardrums, overpowering the melodious Steamroller. “That does it. This should quiet those loudmouths,” he muttered, bending down to take out a bottle of blended eggnog from a lower cabinet behind the bar.
“You idiots ruined the party tonight. People left early because of your stupid arguing,” Paul said disapprovingly. “Christmas shouldn’t be spent fighting. Call a truce and have a drink to celebrate,” he continued. The proprietor had brought over four glasses and the bottle of eggnog on a tray. He poured the liquid liberally into the glasses.
“Listen to the wise man,” Emishi said sagely as he sipped the eggnog.
“He’s right,” Ginji agreed.
Shido and Ban drained their glasses and buried their differences over another serving of the whiskey-and-eggnog libation. Soon the mixture of a strenuous day and the alcohol combined to have a somnolent effect on the four young men, who were soon snoozing.
During the argument, Hevn had retreated to the refreshment table and had imbibed several servings of her spiked punch. She noticed the testosterone-charged atmosphere from the four bishonen in the booth and she lost track of time. When she saw her glass was empty, she glanced to see that they were now slumbering peacefully on the floor.
Her gaze switched over to the only other person awake in the Honky Tonk and she smiled wickedly when she observed the location where he stood, underneath some mistletoe dangling from a string that Natsumi had hung earlier. //I bet he doesn’t even know it. He’s gonna get a big surprise.//
She had found older men quite attractive; one of her past lovers, a man who had worked covertly as an espionage agent at the lab where she was employed, had been much older than her.
The inebriated woman tottered unsteadily in her stiletto heels towards the unsuspecting man, who was busy emptying the debris from opening the presents that evening into a wastebasket. “Paul, Merry Christmas!” Hevn said drunkenly, her words slurred as she enfolded him into an embrace. As she kissed him passionately on the lips, she loosened the pins in her hair, sending her long golden tresses tumbling over her shoulders and down her back.
“What the…” Paul murmured as he tried to push off the intoxicated Hevn, but she pressed her chest closer to him. He was surprised yet amused by her sudden kiss, but attributed it to her alcoholic intake that evening. Drunks do crazy things and he bet that she wouldn’t remember the smooch once she sobered up the next day.
There was a knocking at the front door, interrupting Hevn’s affections. Who the hell would be knocking on the Honky Tonk’s door in the wee hours of a cold December night? Could Natsumi and Himiko have been in an accident on their way home? Dire thoughts flashed through his mind as he freed himself from the blonde’s grasp to answer the door.
“We’re closed,” he said sharply.
“I have a delivery for Paul-san,” the voice on the other side of the door responded.
Paul opened the door to admit a sharp dressed man in a long trenchcoat carrying a large passage. He recognized the man as Akabane.
“Paul-san, you must have enjoyed tonight,” the transporter said cryptically, noting the smudged lipstick on the man’s mouth with a smirk.
The businessman blushed and hurriedly wiped his sleeve across his mouth to erase any trace of the lipstick. Wishing the deadly transporter would leave, he asked, “What did you bring?”
“A present,” Akabane said, offering Paul the package.
Paul took the package over to the bar to unwrap it. Inside was a guitar autographed by the members of Cheap Trick. “This is absolutely incredible!” He decided that the memorable gift would be displayed proudly on the wall behind the bar in the Honky Tonk.
Akabane stepped over the soused intermediary, who was sprawled on the floor, to study the people slumbering by the booths. Emishi had fallen asleep with his head resting on Shido’s shoulder. Ginji, a beatific smile on his face, was sleeping on his side, his arms wrapped around Ban’s body.
“Sleep in heavenly peace, Ginji-kun,” Akabane said softly as he gazed at the resting pair who intrigued him to a large degree. As he strode towards the door, he glanced back towards the festive interior of the café and added his own holiday touch to the evening. Pressing his tie, the melody of “Deck the Halls” played merrily as he acknowledged Paul’s “Merry Christmas, Doctor Jackal” with a wave before stepping out into the Shinjuku night.
* * *
The End
[1] After hearing Cheap Trick’s “I Want you to Want Me” recently on the radio, I recalled their Budokan concert was made into a top-selling album that propelled their chart success in the late ‘70s. Paul in Get Backers might have gone to that performance, so I created the fic about a 25th anniversary concert and Ban and Ginji getting tickets to it as a surprise gift for Paul.
[2] For those interested in anime and fanfiction, check out my journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund.