AN: Started this so I could be the one to write dogs fanfic # 183, cause that's my number. XD don't ask.

Music: Dracula from Huston by Butthole Surfers

Badou had a certain spring in his step as he pushed open the door of Buon Viaggio. He even forgot to glare at the stupid bell above the door that tinkled as he stepped out onto the street. Some old blind priest guy had just given him what was probably the easiest job ever—find some creepy albino dude with red eyes and a high collared jacket, take a bunch of photos of him, then—get this—leave him a cryptic looking envelope that looked like church stationery due to the gold printed cross on the upper left corner of the envelope. And the best thing—the guy was paying a lot for him to do something so easy. He wasn't even going to ask why a blind guy was asking for photos…but hey, he'd get paid for it.

He lit up and inhaled deeply, a small smile stretching across his face as he exhaled. This should be a piece of cake. How many red eyed guys can there be? Not to mention that he wouldn't be hard to follow at all, because pure white hair and freaky white skin don't blend in too well in a crowd. The priest guy had even given him a way to find White Hair, cause he told him which street the guy lived on. Too easy, more so considering that he lived one street over. All he'd have to do to get pictures would be climb up onto the roof, zoom in with his camera and watch the buildings across the street.

Sometimes, work was so easy. Not to mention that he knew the secrets of a good amount of people, so blackmail was always convenient.

And he just loved it when people paid half in advance. Idiots. He leafed through the money that Priest Guy had given him (half in advance) and headed for a little grimy shop across the way. The only things the place was good for were cigs and booze, but that was fine, cause all he needed was a new pack of smokes. He had plenty of booze at his apartment.

He walked into the store, squinting in the light from the flickering bare lights. Since there was no need to walk farther into the store, he just walked up to the counter and pointed at which brand he wanted, muttered "A few packs 'a that, kay?" and was pulling out the correct change when something shiny caught his eye.

A flash of silver-white hair exiting the store, unpaid merchandise in hand, crossing the street towards Buon Viaggio.

His cigarette almost fell out of his mouth as he stood in shocked awe at his amazing luck. He threw the money at the guy behind the counter, shoved the packs into the pockets of his camouflage jacket, and ran out the door, then assumed an inconspicuous walk. He walked away from Buon Viaggio. Crossed the street. Turned around. Walked casually in the restaurant after looking in through one of the windows, slung his camera strap over his shoulder so the lens faced out. He took a seat so his camera had a clear shot at White Hair, and when the waitress handed him a menu, he smiled at her brightly and pressed the shutter release while he pretended to dig in his pocket for something. A barely audible click came from the camera, but there was no way anyone besides Badou heard it. They'd have to be super human. Badou ordered a coffee and peered at White Hair out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if the albino's face was always such a chiseled picture of anger, but then he decided that he didn't really care. He'd have the job finished by the end of the day, collect the rest of his money, buy some more smokes, then relax with a pack till he fell asleep. The waitress brought White Hair a black coffee and a plate with some bacon on it. Coffee and bacon? At six at night? Badou wondered briefly if the guy worked the nightshift, and was ordering breakfast, then shrugged. Bacon was bacon, and bacon was good. Couldn't fault the albino for ordering bacon.

Although, it was a bit odd how White Hair tore into his bacon like a half starved stray dog, with teeth bared and meat stretching under glimmering canines.

Badou felt a little bad for whatever girl had to kiss him. He probably gave killer hickys, with teeth marks and all.

He took another picture, hoping to catch White Hair mid-bite. Maybe he'd get paid extra if the photos were funny. He took a sip of his own coffee after mixing in a couple of sugars, winced at the sour aftertaste, and put in a creamer. The bacon was now gone, and with one sharp motion, the albino threw back the black coffee in one gulp, apparently immune to the effects of scalding hot liquids. Badou hurriedly drank his own coffee as White Hair paid the tab for his bacon, and waited for him to leave before he followed from a safe distance. He expected for the albino to head for the street he lived on, but instead he took a turn in the opposite direction, walked for about two blocks, taking alleys as shortcuts, then entered a rundown, under-funded church. It appeared to be empty except for the albino, so Badou stayed outside to keep his cover.

He lit up again. Sat down on a stone angel outside. Waited…


Waited some more.

Then, finally, the large wooden doors creaked open, and Badou ducked out of sight, snapping another quick picture which was masked by the noise of the door shutting. The albino had walked about a hundred feet back in the direction that they had come from when Badou followed silently, snapping another picture as a car drove by. White Hair stopped at the apartment complex across from Badou's and unlocked the door to get inside. Badou snapped one last picture as White Hair disappeared into the building, hoping that five would be enough pictures. The old guy had only said "a few" and Badou figured that five was enough…hopefully. He supposed that he could sneak into the complex and get some pictures, it wasn't like he hadn't done it before for other jobs…oh, what the hell. What else did he have to do? It wasn't like he had an actual life to get back to. He sighed, ran his fingers through his slightly greasy hair, and decided to run back over to his apartment for his wall climbing gear. He watched the windows to see which light came on next, hoping that would give him some sort of clue as to which apartment White Hair lived in.

Second floor, third window left from the main entrance. At least he wouldn't have to climb too much. He's just have to wait for it to get dark since the window was facing the street. Not that anyone in their neighborhood gave a shit what their neighbors did, but he didn't want to chance it. What if White hair had friends? The sun was already falling behind the buildings, casting long shadows onto the pavement. Badou took a picture of the window just cause, then he walked back across the street to his own apartment.

A few minutes later, he was sprawled across his couch, one leg over the back of it, the other heel resting on the armrest, arm dangling onto the floor, and cigarette perched between his lips. Lights off. Red orange light from the sun making everything that wasn't in shadow glow like the fire at the end of his smoke.

Waiting again.

Smoke swirled in the air in front of him, settling onto his clothes and lighting up yellow as it swirled into the rays of the sun. He watched it lazily, his eye barely cracked open. He was vaguely aware of the time as the seconds ticked onwards towards the time when he would break into White Hair's apartment, and of a few other things as well, but nothing important. His keys were digging into his leg from their spot in his pocket. A fly landed on his knee and crawled around on the green denim. He blew smoke at it, and it flew off, landing on the wall. He let his eye slide shut, then opened it again in a slow motion blink, all the while tapping ashes off his cigarette. Took another draw. Exhale.

The sun beams on the wall gradually shrank back into the shadows, and once the only remnant of the sun was the navy glow on the horizon, Badou shoved himself to his feet. He grabbed his camera that worked the best in the dark as well as his army green cargo jacket from the floor where he had tossed it. He slung his gear over his shoulder and headed out the door, locking it behind himself. His jacket flapped against his legs as he trotted down the stairs and out onto the street. He used a back alley to get around the back of White Hair's apartment complex, using the maintenance stairs to get up to the roof. Once on top of the building, he attached the cables of his gear to a pipe sticking up, clipped the other end around his waist, and slowly lowered himself down towards White Hair's window. He put his cig out on the wall since he couldn't smoke it inside the apartment (because judging by earlier, White Hair wasn't a smoker, and nothing is more conspicuous than a smoke trail. He positioned himself next to the window and pressed his ear against the glass, hoping that White Hair was in a different room. He heard no nearby noises, but heard what he could only assume to be the cheering of a studio crowd on a TV show in a different room. 'Good. He's distracted.' Badou inspected the window lock, already thinking of how to pick it, but to his surprise it was un locked, and it slid open with ease. 'A bit cocky, isn't he? Leaving his window unlocked in this neighborhood? I'm the proof that that's not a smart thing to do.' Badou thought to himself with a chuckle. That guy was either really cocky or really stupid, both convenient things when it came to breaking into houses. Once he had a good grip on the window, he unclipped the cables from his waist and slipped silently into the room. It was dark, and empty except for a metal framed bed and a bookshelf that was mostly empty apart from about seven DVD cases. One was empty and laying open next to the others: Requiem For A Dream.

Well, that explained the cheering studio audience. Cause he really couldn't imagine White Hair watching some stupid game show. The case looked new too. Maybe that was what he had stolen from that shop earlier?

Badou crept over to the door-less doorframe, peering around the corner and down the short hallway towards the room where the television noises were coming from, (no longer cheering people but haunting violins instead.) He could see White Hair sitting on a red leather couch, his eyes glued to the screen. The room was also empty, giving Badou nothing to hide behind, but he did notice that the floor was a stark, black and white checkered tile pattern. Looking closer, the walls were sprayed with bullet holes.

Okay. So Whitey was either cocky, stupid, or had enough guns that he didn't care about safety.

Badou gulped. He wasn't sure why, he had dealt with gun wielding maniacs plenty of times before, but this guy was the first one that really scared him. Maybe it was the red eyes?

He pulled out his camera, positioning it so it had the albino in frame, and hoped that White Hair would be too into the movie to notice the click of the camera, since the night camera was a bit louder than the other he had used earlier.


Shit. A lull in the movie, of course. The click resonated down the hall with a feeling of impending doom. Hopefully White Hair wouldn't notice the sound, or would just think it was a creaky floor, or the guy in the apartment next door. Maybe he didn't hear it…?

The movie continued, people talking, a girl yelling, sounds of drug use. He figured that the music was loud enough now to mask the camera sound, so he took another picture.


Suddenly, the albino's eyes snapped away from the screen and towards the hallway. Badou quickly drew the camera back in so it wouldn't be seen. He pressed himself to the wall next to the doorframe, hoping Whitey would just go back to his movie and not get up. If he heard that click, but not the first one, then fate really was out to get him. Badou's heart lept to his throat when he heard a shuffle, then the movie noise stopped abruptly. He heard a clunk that he assumed was the noise of the albino standing (cause his boots were too big not to make a clunk noises when he walked.)

Clunk noises like those ones, that were getting progressively closer. White Hair had definitely stood, and was now walking slowly towards the room where Badou stood.

Badou hoped that for what ever reason White Hair had started walking, that he'd hurry up and walk there. Cause all this suspense was going to kill him. The steps were right outside the door. Badou forced himself not to look over for fear that he'd make a noise. He expected to have a gun against his forehead at any second.

But the steps continued down the hall. He heard a door shut, then running water. It seemed that White Hair had only needed to go to the bathroom. Badou breathed out a huge sigh of relief. He was just dying for a smoke, but after that, there was no way he'd risk it. Hopefully he'd be out of the place in a few minutes after getting a couple more pictures and leaving the church envelope on White Hair's pillow.

More steps. He was out of the bathroom. Badou gathered his courage and decided to get a picture as the albino walked back past the door. He ran in a much practiced silent manner and hid behind the bed, positioning the camera at the door. A couple more steps and White Hair was in the frame again, and Badou took the picture right as the albino's foot hit the tile floor, hoping to disguise the click.

A blue-white flash of light blinded them both momentarily, and suddenly Badou's heart was in his throat again. The flash? When had he turned the flash on? Had he hit it accidentally?

Needless to say, the albino stopped mid-step, blinking his eyes to clear the flash haze. He looked crookedly into the bedroom where Badou crouched behind the low bed, his head fully visible to the other. He grinned sheepishly.


"Why have you been following me? Do you know how annoying that is?"


"Ever since the fucking Italian place you've been following me like a lost mutt. Who do you work for? Fruhling?" He growled through his teeth. Badou remembered the ferocious way the albino had tore through his bacon, and the bullet hole walls, and he squeaked a little.

"I don't work for anyone, I swear! I have no idea what you're talking about! I climbed in the window cause I though the apartment belonged to someone else…A friend! It was his birthday today and there was supposed to be a party and I—"

The albino rubbed his temples and sighed. "Okay then, so why the camera? And the following?"

"Uh…just a whim, yeah?" the albino twitched, irked finally.

"Tch." He rolled his eyes, exasperated with Badou's horrible lying. He brushed his long coat out of the way and extracted what appeared to be a Luger, which he pressed to Badou's temple. In the other hand, he held out a Mauser, pointing it at the camera.

"Tell me who you work for, or I'll make sure that your photo's and yourself never make it back to them…in one piece."

Badou's eye widened in sheer terror. "Okay, fine! I'm just a guy, okay! I do random jobs, whatever people pay me for! I don't know anything about this 'Fruhling' or anything! Ah! Uh, he wanted me to give you a letter…hang on a sec…" He fished the letter out of his pocket and held it out to the albino with a shaking hand and another nervous laugh. He really hoped that the letter wasn't anything bad, or he'd be so dead…but how bad can it be, from a priest?

He remembered headlines about pedophile priests, and really hoped that White Hair wasn't some sort of abuse victim or something.

The angry look on the albino's face settled into one of amusement as he read the letter.

"That guy…" the albino muttered, shaking his head and lowering his guns. Badou looked at him fearfully, but less in terror than before. The guns were down, and he wasn't pissed anymore, and that was good, right?

"You…uh, aren't going to kill me, right?"

White Hair rolled his eyes and tossed the note at Badou. It fluttered through the air and Badou caught it easily, turning it right side up so he could read it.

'His name is Badou. He's not a bad guy, so don't kill him. I think you two would get along, so remember what I told you about potential friends—don't shoot them! I was the one who told him to take the pictures, you can keep them when they're developed. Why would I want them? I'm blind!


Badou's jaw dropped. His brain spun incomprehensively.

"Wait…you know each other? How does he know me? He knew you'd catch me? What the hell is going on?"

"You, Badou, just got screwed over by a blind guy."

"H-hey! You cant call me by name when I don't know your name yet!"

"Suit yourself, Eyepatch." He tucked the guns back into their holsters, turning to leave. Badou sat there, mind still spinning from what had just happened. His head was going to explode if he didn't get a smoke soon.

"Hey! What am I supposed to do now?" he yelled out as the movie started again.

"I don't kill you yet. Until I decide you're too annoying, do what you want. Biship's gonna ask me if I let you stay, and since I don't feel like getting pouted at by a blind lolicon priest, I wont kick you out."

"Uh…okay then…Can I watch that movie with you then?"

He could practically hear those red eyes rolling. "Whatever. But I'm not gonna start it over for you."

Badou shoved his camera into his pocket and shut the window before walking out into the room with the checkered floors. He awkwardly took a seat next to White Hair on the worn leather couch, making himself comfortable when he received no reaction from the albino.

"So…what is your name, anyway?" He wondered aloud, looking sideways at the albino. He was answered by a leather gloved hand snapping the straps of his eye patch painfully.


"Shut up and watch the movie!"

Badou sent the albino a put out look, fished his cigs out of his pocket and lit up. He received no scolding from the other, so he tucked the pack back into his pocket and inhaled.

"Suit yourself, Whitey."

Yup. The eye rolling was so prominent, it could be heard from the next apartment over. Badou simply chuckled out smoke and settled into the couch, turning his eyes from the albino to the TV.

Maybe they would get along…like two stray dogs, tied together by fate and too stubborn to give in to despair.