Do I own Britt, Kato, any and all references to Green Hornet? No. But I do own any and all OCs mentioned, all nicknames, and all plot ideas are mine bitches!

Did I mention this is a one shot? Well it is. Kinda.

This is cannon to Dark Angel chapter 4 and 5. Pretty much the question that is going to be answered is what caused Britt and Kato to go from drinking and movie watching to snuggling. I even wonder what happened and I'm the author!

Contains: Mentions of drunken/childish behavior, snuggling, light undertones of SLASH (but no DIRECT slash because it is cannon and B/K has not happened…YET). And mentions of Dark Angel plot points that will be coming up in the future!

This is going to be interesting.

I felt like doing this, so that's why it's here.

Next Dark Angel Chapter should be coming soon, but my current responsibilities outside of FFnet are kicking my ass so it might be more time that I originally planned.

Alright, one more thing!

Reviews would be excelente, thanks ahead of time!

HERE WE GOOOOOO!


This, in no way, shape, or form, is not what he had planned for the day…

He had planned to finish up with Britt's ridicules plan of putting wings on the side of the Black Beauty, while at the same time arguing with his man about how there was no way in hell that he was putting flames as part of the paint job (the white boy thought it would be 'badass' while he knew that black looked way better, it was a classic color), before dragging himself back home to bed.

The day had not gone as planned, and an easy way to tell being that he wasn't at home. He was at Britt's place, someplace that was like a second home to him. And while the rich boy had offered (more like tried to forced him to take one) him a room, he had declined. His nightmares might make their relationship weird, besides; he didn't want to explain it to anyone. The situation was complicated, no one else needed to know; especially Britt.

Although that didn't mean he wasn't over at the mansion for a good ninety five percent of his time; any person that the Reid successor had over assumed that he was a:

A) Servant. Britt loved to roll with that one, always asking him why the hell he didn't have his maid outfit before asking for him to serve his specialty coffee and some baked goods. Which were usually Twinkies or Ding-Dongs as those were Britt's favorite. Those situations usually ended with him half bashing the head of the idiot in with the confused guest watching on in horror while his Chinese curses mixing with Britt's "What did I do?" moans. It had been a while since that had been done, the faded bruise on the older man's man being the reason.

B) Friend. This was the most accurate out of the three, although it seemed that their relationship was a bit more than that. Usually Britt would say in reply to the assumption "That's Kato, my home slice" [or some other 'comment that was from a different ethnicity other than his own.] He didn't argue, knowing that what the white boy meant was Xoing-di. It made him feel a bit better that he wasn't completely alone in the world that someone was there for him.

C) Boyfriend.

His mind scrambled itself even thinking about it. [AN: As does mine. B/K FOREVER!]

The first time he had been called that, he was torn between punching Britt [for saying a stupid thing like that about him] or smiling [since there had been a bit of confusion in the love section of his brain recently, with him wondering if the 'love' he showed Britt and vice versa was platonic like they both assumed it to be. He usually just brushed, and beat, the idea back with the notion that it was nonsense. But his mind was curious as it was part of his nature, so he couldn't leave the idea alone and for weeks he had been considering if there was any truth to the idea. Finally he had decided that even if there was evidence (he had yet to find any or he was purposefully overlooking it), he was just going to ignore his wondering to keep things the way they were.] Usually he corrected the mistaken guest, the few times he didn't resulting in Britt going all out with it. An arm around the waist, the 'lovey-dovey' talk, and once a kiss on the cheek all being part of the man's behavior. That had brought up the twinge of confusion, a flittering feeling in his core; one that was unexplainable. It had lead him back to the wondering question of 'platonic love or not platonic love' that seemed to not be going away.

But despite the title he carried, one that changed with each hour from brother to sidekick to 'angry Chinese friend' (as Britt called him one) to Britt's man; he was over at the white boy's house. And while the man brought up a good point, becoming a bloody pancake was not part of his plans, he knew he should of toughed it out. Then he would be lying in his own bed, either sleeping or trying not to cry after another nightmare, instead of listening to Britt's obnoxious (smile inducing) and immature (from the soul) laugh….

…although, who knew that a Die Hard marathon could be not only entertaining but relaxingat the same time. Maybe it was because they were both good doing 'bad guys' or maybe it was because they were guys in general and blowing shit up and/or seeing shit being blow up was fun.

Either way, it was becoming apparent that a gritty Bruce Willis was exactly what he needed.

Well that and beer.

Already he was three hours of explosions, two beers, and a bag of chips into the nights; action sequences that made him cheer in delight and the cheesy one liners that made him crack up included. He was not at the point where he had laughed so hard that he had cried, not yet anyways.

Even when Britt had tickled him, which had been a half a beer and one movie in, in which he retaliated with whacking the man with a soft pillow like he was five. After a mock pillow fight, which turned into cursing session when they broke a coffee table when he tackled Britt, which had been one beer in, they had calmed bit down. Well of course that was after they had had a slightly tipsy Chinese teaching moment (he had had to teach Britt all the curse words he had said). Then, out of nowhere, Britt had ripped off his shirt….but that was another story.

Enough said, it had been fun; something that he didn't have a lot of in his life.

His tongue felt loose, a bad thing when his head was beginning to buzz from the sweet high that came from the deadly alcohol; the very last thing he wanted to do was share his secrets. The same ones that had woke him at a very early hour this morning, as they had many days before; he had learned to drink water before bed so his voice wasn't gone from screaming in the morning.

It was a thin line he was walking; the drinks made the pain go away, all the memories drowned so they couldn't haunt him, but at the same time the more he drank, the more the urge he had to tell someone (namely Britt) everything grew. Being the only one to shoulder the burden was taking a toll on him, the weariness in both mind and body becoming more evident in the last few weeks than ever before; but while the idea of having a partner to help was deliriously good, having another person would just make things even harder.

He would have to explain everything.

How do you explain that your family died because of a rivalry, one that no one has any idea how it started or why it exists other than it does and that's the way it is?

That it wasn't an accident, that you were left behind, that they died to protect you; how the hell do you explain that?

Do you show the ragged picture that was tucked in your pocket, the one that is your last link?

Do you explain where your smooth demeanor and your fiery (but rarely shown) temper came from, even though the sources were the same and yet different?

Do you tell of the last words you heard before you were alone forever?

"Just know that whatever happens, we love you, we love you so much"

He didn't know, which was why he couldn't tell a soul.

If you yourself didn't know the answers, you couldn't explain it to someone else; although if he did try, he would cry. Thinking about that night and the years of loneliness that, even though he would fight a sliver of moisturize from falling, he wouldn't just cry, he'd sob until his body had no more water to give.

He probably wouldn't even be able to get a full sentence out as the first few words would unleash a Pandora's Box of what he had hidden since he was 12. The warm arms that would hold him when he had a nightmare, the deep hearty laugh that he couldn't help but laugh along with…

"Dude, I didn't know you were a weepy drunk" The voice came as a bit of a surprise, his 'kitty' (God how he hated the pet name, he wanted to kill the people who created the jingle that was now assigned to Britt's phone under his number. The idiot had done it right in front of him, downloading it and saving it with a crooked smile. He'd just delete it later. Maybe he could do that tonight if the playboy fell asleep before him. But that was unlikely, because, though he was not a lightweight when it came to liquor, Britt was more of an alcoholic than him. If anyone could out drink Britt, it was a very sober Britt.) self forgetting that there was another person in the room.

Had he not been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he might of snapped back at the man with a "AM NOT!" or some other booze influenced response. But for now, he decided to let it slid as he took another sip of beer. It made his head spin just a bit more, the self-control slipping just a bit more. Maybe another beer from now he would spill it all and not remember it tomorrow….

He should stop drinking. While neither he nor Britt got horrible hangovers (the man because he was used to them, him because he was weird like that and because he drank coffee and aspirin to forget about the pain), they both still did stupid shit when they were drunk.

When he really thought about it, the only stupid thing they had done (other than dressing up like superheroes and attacking gangs, plus the random shit Britt did) without the assistance of beer was that giant brawl over Casey. The fight that had turned out to be POINTLESS in every way…

Oh well.

At least he had been able to apologize for that one…

"Daddy?" He poked the hand that was not holding his.

There wasn't an answer, not even an acknowledgement as one of his parents kept talking on his phone. His mother squeezed his hand a bit harder, a small frown directed towards her husband.

"Daddy?" He poked a bit harder; that's what Kiba always did to Sumi (or vice versa) when he couldn't get her attention and she always swatted at his hand so she could focus on the task at hand.

He received a slight glare in return, one that he cowered at. While he was the baby of the family, and the clan, he still feared the anger of his father. He had never been struck, but who couldn't be scared when Kiba wasn't here to stand in front of him?

"Dear" His mother hissed quietly, the small glare shifted to her.

Feeling a bit, how another male clansmen said before Sumi smacked him, 'ballsy' (whatever that meant), he poked his father one more time. "Daddy?"

Closing the phone with a snap of plastic against plastic, two dark eyes and an aged face looked down on him.

"Kato, please don't interrupted me when I'm on the phone" The tone of his voice wasn't hard but nor was it soft; cold nor hot, just a plain voice….yet it terrified him.

"Yes d…sir" He substituted the sir in because that's what Sumi and Kiba did when an important part of the clan was possibly getting mad. It was for respect, which most people deserved.

"Now, what do you want son?" He swallowed before breathing

"Um…I know we just left the ice cream place, but can we go back to get some for Sumi and Kiba? I think that they would like some" He said in his squeaky child voice, trying to seem as cute as possible to get his way.

It worked on most clan members, who always went "Awwwwwww…." before doing/giving him whatever he wanted.

And it did work…

"Always thinking of them aren't you? You're such a sweet brother"

on his mother at least.

She rubbed his shoulder lovingly, with a smile of adoration on her face. He soaked up the attention, getting a smile on his own face.

"I don't think that either of them need or deserve anything, especially that bastard" His neck hurt from where he whipped it around to stare in shock at the person who had grumbled the sentence.

"Kyo!" His mother gasped, almost snarling the word like it was a slap to the face.

What was going on? Why had his dad called Kiba, his own son, a bastard? It didn't make sense, but one thing he knew for true was that…

"No he's not"

Both parents looked to him, his father's gruff voice asking "What did you say?"

He looked into the dark eyes and glared with fire as he fiercely spoke "Kiba is my brother. You can call him whatever the hell you want to, just don't do it around me. I don't like to be lied to!" He was yelling by the end, unaware of his volume and language.

"Now listen here boy…" A hand grasped his roughly as he was drawn closer to the male figure.

"No, I will not listen. Besides, if anyone is the bastard, it's you" His back hit the street as he was thrown back, his mother helping him to his feet a moment afterwards…

"You're no better than that bastard brother of yours!" He regretted the things he had said as his father kept shouting, the anger that he and Sumi were famous for coming out. His father was usually a calm person, but when his fuse was lit there was no stopping it.

He wasn't sure where the words had come from; he wasn't sure why he had said it.

His eyes watched his mother try to calm him down, getting closer than most could.

Maybe he could sneak in there and hug him. Then hope to god that it would work, that everything would go back to normal. It had been a very nice night, why the hell did he have to go and ruin it?

He was about to take a step when the shot when off.

The words died in his paternal parent's throat as the tall body crumbled to the ground, the screams of his remaining parent following before it hit the pavement.

He paid the figure in the corner of his eye, nor his sobbing mother, any attention for the moment. The fear and panic would hit in a second's time, but for now the thought that would more be scarred in his brain for life was what his focus was on.

His dad was dead…

"KYO!" The screams echoed

and the last memory he had was fighting with him.

"Kato?"

His eyes refocused to see a tipsy Britt staring at him with slightly cloudy and mostly concerned brown eyes.

He considered ignoring him and taking another sip of beer…where the hell had his bottle gone? It was on a table near them why?

"You're shaking" Britt set his own drink down before taking his hands, that were as he had said, shaking fiercely.

Normally, he would have slapped the hands away, but as they steadied him he felt a sense of calm was over him. A hint of belonging was there too; maybe it was the buzzing feeling swirling in his head with everything else.

At the moment he didn't care as the feeling spread from his hands to his entire body as two arms wrapped around him. All thoughts about the implications of being close to Britt, no matter how close they were, were gone as his head lay against the other man's.

His eyes began to droop from the body heat being given off; the sounds of explosives and curses becoming a lullaby as his place on one end of the couch was compromised as Britt gently dragged him to be next to him.

He accepted it, giving no resistance; the comfort he was feeling was addictive, an addiction he could live with.

Even though he was sure that the shaking was going away, the slightly slurred but still soft words of the other man filled his ear.

"It's okay, I'm here"

He didn't care what it meant, he didn't care what happened.

A single tear ran onto Britt's bare chest as he was cradled as the pull of sleep started to consume.

And as he faded, he wasn't sure if he had said something in return.

Maybe he had, maybe he had said "I know"

But that was forgotten as he slept against his partner in crime.

The bare skin against his cheek, it was a side note.

The memories creeping up, they were ignored.

His only thought being as he started his body's recharge was one of if he would sleep well tonight…

….for some reason, he knew he would.


Reviews? Plz!

TA-DA! Did ya'll like?

I know it wasn't EXACTLY cannon but it was DAMN close enough…

Working on the next DA chapter…I AM!