Crossover Earth '98
The slender Asian man pursed his lips thoughtfully. He lifted his hand to his face, pushing his glasses from the tip of his nose back up to its bridge with a single finger -- a habitual gesture. Then he frowned, dropping his hand to the tabletop once again.
"You can see my problem, here," Zander prompted him.
The man nodded absently, picking up his cup of coffee. "Yes. You weren't ready." He sipped the dark liquid and made a sour face. "Horrible stuff... how can you drink it?"
Zander shrugged. "I like it."
"Grandfather was right. You gaijin are all crazy." He grinned, softening the words, and Zander chuckled politely.
"Granted, this isn't the best place in town for coffee, but," he gestured, indicating the large but nearly-empty dining room, "hardly anyone comes here this late at night. We won't have to worry about being overheard."
"Or we could just speak Japanese." He sighed theatrically. "What I wouldn't give for a good cup of tea..."
"All right, all right." Zander grinned. "Next time, you pick the place."
"Your treat?"
"Don't push your luck."
He laughed, and Zander joined in, but both quickly sobered. "Okay," the man said. "So you weren't ready. You remember the lessons?"
"Yeah. 'Realize what you did wrong, realize why it was wrong, and take steps to correct it.' That's the one you meant, right?"
"Right. It's just like the overhead slash," he joked.
Zander sighed. "This is serious, Kyousuke."
"I know," he replied apologetically. "Otherwise I wouldn't have made the trip this late at night." He grinned. "Just think, I could be enjoying a night on the town with my girlfriend right now, and instead I'm drinking bad coffee in the world's worst diner, listening to you."
Despite himself, Zander laughed. "You could be, if you had a girlfriend."
"Oh, yeah. I knew I was forgetting some minor detail."
Zander shook his head. When they were younger, studying the art of kenjitsu together, Kyousuke had always seemed so deadly serious. Then, he and his family had left for America... and when he and Zander met, years later, he'd been the joker who now sat before him. And still there were times when that intense, implacable focus would return... Zander wondered which was the true personality and which the act he'd adopted.
Perhaps both were real. Zander coughed, and continued, "Anyway, the problem is easy enough. I don't have the skill."
"No?" Kyousuke seemed genuinely surprised. He absently pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, and continued, "But you were one of the best of us, even without that thing you did..."
Zander sighed. It might have been a mistake, confiding in Kyousuke, but he hadn't had much of a choice. Kyousuke had nearly been killed by his first flare of uncontrolled power, and wasn't likely to forget that, even if the others had. Besides, Zander had to talk to someone, and Kyousuke was probably the closest friend he had. Definitely the closest who wasn't separated from him by an ocean.
"I didn't mean fighting. I'm okay at that." He smiled ruefully, and concluded, "I'm just realizing there's more to it than that. I've spent the last couple of weeks following up on that jewel thief, but I don't have any idea where or how to look. Patrolling is one thing, but this..." He shrugged.
All traces of levity gone, Kyousuke nodded. "So you need to learn."
"Right. Any idea how you become a detective?"
"Join the police?"
"I thought about it, but it's not a good idea. It would take too much time, but mostly, it would make it a lot harder to keep the identity." Zander drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. "Being a P.I. isn't really possible, either..."
"Read a lot of Arthur Conan Doyle?"
He rubbed his forehead. "Please, Kyousuke."
"Okay, serious it is. Uhm, if you can't do it yourself... Find someone else to do it?"
Zander froze, then slowly smiled. "You know, you just might have something there. Now, if I could find someone in the police department I could trust..."
"Don't forget reporters. It's not exactly detective work, but they deal with a lot of information."
"Hmm. That might be even better. I hope I could pick up some of this myself, though. I have to say, I don't really like being dependent on other people."
Kyousuke shrugged. "Everyone needs help sometimes, Alexander. You can't save the world by yourself."
He chuckled. "I'm a man with a sword. I doubt I could contribute much to anything that grand. But you don't have to be Captain Infinity to try to make a difference."
"Good luck, then." Kyousuke smiled. "Aren't you lucky you have me to solve all your problems?"
"I wish." Zander finished his own drink and set the cup back on the table. "You've given me a lot to think about, anyway."
"My pleasure. That all you wanted?"
With a sharp laugh, Zander answered, "That's the serious part, anyway. I hope you're not planning on leaving already? I'd hate to have you think I only call you for... well, 'business.'"
"Even if it's true?" Kyousuke waved off the impending reply. "Not at all. So, tell me, how are you and... was it Caroline?"
"It was, and I told you before, we were not dating. That was strictly business."
"Really? Then could you give me her phone number?" Kyousuke asked hopefully.
"I think she's engaged..."
The banter continued long into the night.
Zander sighed wearily as he closed the door. It was always good to see old friends, but it had been a tiring month, and losing sleep tonight wouldn't help that. His fingers fumbled at the light switch, and the dangling sleeve of his trenchcoat managed to knock over the stack of mail and newspaper that he'd put on the table that morning.
Typical.
With the light on, he removed his coat, draping it over the back of a chair. He bent down and started gathering up envelopes, thinking about how nice a hot shower and bed would be. As he reached for the newspaper, however, he blinked, all tiredness driven from his mind.
Buried in the depths of page 14 of the Times was a name: Thomas Hewes. He'd heard that name before. Where, where...?
The jewel thief. Hewes was the officer. Quickly, he scanned the article. "Thomas Hewes, NYPD officer... while searching for some sign of Mastiff in relation to multiple murders..." Multiple murders? He'd have to keep an eye open himself. "...Arrested one Dennis Marquand, on suspicion of..." The jewelry store thefts. A clue? He read on, "...Was with a companion at Chez Natalie. Police say restaurant staff confirmed the alibi, and Marquand was released the same evening..."
Absently, Zander folded the newspaper, placing it and the letters back on the table. "Dennis Marquand," he mused. "But if his story checked out..."
He shook his head. He was getting nowhere; at any rate, he was too tired to puzzle this out with any confidence. Best to wait until the morning, and approach the article's revelations with a clear mind. And then...
Then, it might be worth looking into this Dennis Marquand.