Black blinked a few times, his senses were returning and regaining awareness to the world around him. Dull, aching eyes exposed themselves to the yellow lamp light that stretched to the ends of the room. His chest rumbled as he drew in a breath. Well, he was certainly no longer in that smelly hellhole that had ten feet of dirt laying overhead but he was not at his own embassy, nor home. Could he have fallen in a coma and seemingly been trapped in a coffin for months? Or was he really dead? 'Is this heaven?' he werrily thought to himself. He glanced over to see none other then his arch enemy, White in the kitchen. "White's here. This must be hell..." He muttered inbetween dry coughs. His voice was warnout from fruitlessly calling for help. Hell, he tried in four different languages. Why did White come to his aid all of a sudden? Most likely for an award or figured that it was an easy ticket to intel. Well, hell with that. Black used what little remained strenghth to push himself up on the couch he was resting on.

Pain engulfed his weaken figure as he attemped to sit up, causing the spy to groan in agony. He knew that he should look around to ensure temporary safety so that he could take a moment to think but that couldn't be managed under this kind of crippleing pain. His face slowly began to burn and he couldn't think straight. Dark brown eyes wrenched shut and a choked cry followed against his will. Everything slowly began to ache so bad that if the man did so much as turned his head, it would feel like a impact with a truck. 'This is degrading...why'd I have to catch the flu now? Merde, I want to just die already...'

-White's POV-

Raindrops pelted against the window paine, desending at an angle from the darkned, gray, cloud-covered sky.

Gray.

That one name raced back and forth in White's mind through out the remainder of the day. The spy was seated next to the kitchen window, taking in the well-memorized view that it showed. A relitivaly nice, quiet neighborhood with a park near by which made a nice place to hide when not working. Although, that hasn't stopped his adversary from tracking him before. White's job slowly melted into his life and the whole "incogneto" location thing lost it's value to him. The war just seemed to rage on everyday, both coy spies putting in an emence effort to beat the other, in the name of their side. Expecting the other to strike at any given moment, disturbing the peace. However, White would have never expected this routine to quit cold turkey all those months ago. Eleven to be exact. You see, while White was snooping around the Black embassy, he had overheard that Black was being sent away on a mission in another country for a couple of months to gather information. Knowing this, he rushed back to his own embassy to share the news with his boss who in turn, granted him a "vacation" for the duration of Black's absence as long as he kept an eye on his returnal. And so, for eleven eeriely quiet months, he waited and when his enemy failed to comply to his little "Welcome back" surprise trap, he actually was uncertain and perhaps even a little concerned. Irrationally concerned for his sworn enemy, his rival, and as he came to the conlusion of today-

his loved one.

Yep, in a sick, messed-up way, his secret crush. It almost killed him to face it. The other had become a major obsession along with this his job but it sickened him to think that he would never come in contact with Joke again. Why? Why had his hatered become the complete oppisite emotion over the years? White sighed in frustration and looked over at the now rousing spy. With a stretch, he got to his feet and expected the other to be glancing around, wondering where he was and also, the location of his weapons. Instead, an agonized whine edmitted from Black. This threw the White-haired spy off guard. He rushed over to find Black's flushed face wrenched up in pain and distress. White hand pressed against the other's sweat-drenched forehead and confermed his suspisions. Black's immune system had taken a horrid beating for those months being trapped in the ground and now is finding it hard to adjust back to normal. He was burning up.

Brown eyes gazed up at his own Hazel ones through the slightest opening of their eyelids as his lips cruved down in a grimice of misery. There were even a few tears trailing down his cheek. 'He's too weak to keep his emotions locked up and sealed.' White sympathetically mused. 'Constantly dying due to a lack of air and nessecites and coming back to life has taken it's toll and if he dies now, he won't have much of a chance to recover fully...'

"Kill m-me..."

Dagger only stared down.

"Are you f***ing deaf? Just end this already you bastard!"

White retreated into his kitchen, leaving Black weeping in his livingroom due to an intense fever. The truth was that Black was in total misery. He couldn't tell watch was going to kill him first, embarrassment, this fever, or White. 'Yep, probably White. He's coming back...' Black's eyes closed, preparing for lead to meet his chest or head. 'Just closed your eyes, old boy and you'll be back in your own base soon enough."

He almost jumped out of his skin when a cool, wet towel drapped across his forehead and hand wrapped around his own. "No, I'm not deaf you idiot. I won't kill you this time." White stated with indifference. "Now just shut up and get some rest."


Author's Note: Sorry for the wait guys! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and yes, Black and White are humans. I think that it suits this more...

If you guys liked, feel free to review!