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Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Nov 20: The village awaits the new moon

[A/N: The case idea is from a Dave Barry book.]

Picket fences

Basch woke abruptly to an empty, fast cooling bed and the
sound of tapping keys, when something that squeaked bounced off his head.� Sitting up sharply, disoriented, he looked
down blearily to see one of Vaan�s suspiciously heavy soft toys: the purple
bear, to be exact (what in the world did toy companies put in those things
nowadays?), and rubbed his eyes, yawning.
�Morning,� the culprit drawled, without looking around,
intent on the computer before him.� �I
turned off the alarm clock half an hour ago.�
It�s your turn today to make breakfast and take the kids to school, if you
haven�t forgotten.�
Basch grumbled under his breath, stretched, and got off the
bed, a little unsteadily.� A hot shower
made him feel almost human again, though he frowned to see Balthier still
perched before the computer, when he re-emerged, a towel around his hips.� Slipping arms over the other man�s
shoulders, he peered at the screen, then sighed.� �There�s something� wrong about you engaging in acts of piracy,
Balthier.�
�Just because my partner is in the police?� Unrepentant,
Balthier closed the windows, and turned his head back, with a little smirk, an
appreciative sniff and a slow, hungry scrutiny of visible skin that made Basch
flush and chuckle.
�They�ll be late for school,� he reminded Balthier dryly,
but submitted willingly enough to a languid kiss; his heart quickened, as the
chair was swiveled around and an arm stroked over his shoulder, the other hand
rubbing circles down towards his abdomen.
�I�m sure we can make do with something quick,� Balthier
purred, against his lips, and Basch laughed, stroking his own hands down a
naked back to low-riding, black designer jeans. ��Unless you doubt your� ability to satisfy me?�
�Maybe not in ten minutes,� Basch squeezed a pert rump, to a
mewl, �And then we�ll both have to shower again, and��
�Dad? Are you awake? We have school!� Vaan knocked sharply
on the door.� Balthier pulled back, with
a stifled groan of irritation, as Basch nuzzled his chin, apologetically.� �Penelo and I are hungry, and Ashe has a
project meeting or something!�
�It�s the science project,� Ashe corrected, primly,
behind the door.
�Can we have pancakes? Dad�s cooking today, right?� Penelo�s
voice was fainter.
�A minute,� Basch called, then nipped Balthier�s nose, as
the sounds of footsteps receded.� �I�ll
get changed.�
�It was your idea to adopt three,� Balthier said,
without any real resentment.� �You
should come to the studio when you have time.�
�Why?� Basch picked a collared shirt from his side of the
wardrobe, even as Balthier pulled on a red tee liberally decorated with what
looked like black scribbles.�
�The furniture arrived for the November shoot,� Balthier
leaned against the wall, watching Basch dress with far too much interest for
his composure.� �There�s this gorgeous
antique four poster that needs to be broken in.� He smirked, when Basch
blushed, sidling up and pressing his body up behind the detective, slowly
slipping a hand down past the hem of recently pulled on boxers.� �Mahogany wood and tapestry sheets, on loan
from some private collection to Rolling Stones for November�s baroque
theme.�
�Going� to be late�� Basch muttered, hearing the hitch in his
own voice when warm fingers closed around his prick and squeezed.� �Balthier��
�Hmm?� Balthier asked, innocently, just as another knock
could be heard on the door, and Penelo�s voice say, hesitantly, �Um� Dad�
Vaan�s trying to mix chocolate milk with honey and pepper.�
�Make him stop, sweetheart,� Balthier instructed, ignoring
the gentle tug on his wrist.
�I tried, but he won�t listen, dad.� The children
used a different inflexion when referring to Balthier, likely unnoticeable to
anyone save their immediate family.�
�Oh� he�s going to drink it��
�Where�s Ashe?� Balthier, with a sigh, stopped, disappearing
to the bathroom to wash his hands; Basch leaned against the wardrobe, taking
deep breaths to compose himself.
�She�s burning some last minute stuff into a CD,� Penelo
supplied, as Basch finally finished changing.�
Balthier smirked when he brushed past, on the way to the door.�
�Adopting was your idea,� Basch muttered.
�But not three.� Balthier flapped a hand
dismissively.

--

Noah arrived in the middle of breakfast, depositing a Krispy
Kremes box on the table, kissing Penelo on the cheek, Ashe on the forehead and
enveloping Vaan in a bear hug.� �How are
my favorite eight year olds?�
�I�m ten,� Ashe said, though she smiled, despite
herself.�
�Is this for us?� Vaan said, around a mouthful of pancakes,
lifting the cover of the box.� Basch
grinned when Balthier wrinkled his nose at the instant, saccharine-sweet
scent.� Only two donuts were
missing.� �Wow!�
�Apparently, Krispy Kreme donuts increase the chance of
heart disease,� Balthier said dryly, reaching forward and closing the box.
�Aww, dad�� Vaan pouted.
�That�s oppressive behavior right there,� Noah agreed,
slumping into a chair at the dining table and helping himself to pancakes,
despite Balthier�s arched eyebrow when the fork he used was the one for sorting
the stacks.� �Whose turn is it today?�
�Mine,� Basch admitted, narrowing his eyes.� Noah hardly ever came over in the mornings
save on special occasions such as birthdays, or when something happened in the
precinct.� �Squad car?�
�Really?� Penelo brightened.�
�Taking a ride in the back of a police car isn�t meant to be
glamorous,� Balthier said mildly, sipping his tea, glancing at the clock.� �I have to go.� You owe me a shoot.� Call
me later, maybe.�
Basch was devoutly glad that he didn�t blush.

--

�I still find it surprising that you took in all of them,�
Noah said, as they headed into the precinct.�
�Three kids.�
Basch shrugged.�
�They�re good kids.� It had been a bad business; children orphaned by a
trigger-happy sniper, with no immediate family or relatives who wanted
them.� Small faces gray with
uncomprehending grief.� It had been no
choice at all, for him, to adopt, and hadn�t Balthier once suggested (if rather
playfully) that they do so? Save for the sudden lack of privacy and the
concurrent interference with his sex life, it had worked out surprisingly well.
�Not saying they aren�t, but isn�t it expensive?� Noah said,
as he thumbed the button for the lift.
�Is this another attempt to find out how much Balthier
earns?� Basch asked, dryly.
Noah smirked at his brother.� �I�m sure that shiny blue Jag isn�t from your pay, Basch, or that
uptown house all of you live in.�
A grimace, as the doors slid open and they stepped in,
squeezed into a corner by the morning crowd.�
�For your information, I didn�t want the Jag.�
�Celebrity photographer� I�ll never have thought they would
have so much disposable income,� Noah was all innocence.
�How much does Vayne earn?� Basch countered.
Noah pulled a face.�
�I�m not gay.�
�You�ll have to admit it�s quite amusing, a Fortune hundred
personality calling up a�.�
Noah looked relieved when the chief stepped out of his
office, and beckoned to them.� �Right!
The case.�

--

Basch came home late, exhausted, noted the dinner in the
microwave, and set out to find Balthier.�
Voices informed him that his partner had assumed the duty of reading the
children their bedtime story for tonight.��
�� and the village waited for the new moon to rise.�
�I don�t get it,� Vaan said, slowly.� �Why couldn�t they be together?�
�Because the sun can�t be in the sky at the same time as the
moon, silly,� Penelo pointed out.�
�Right?�
�But they can be in the same place at the same time � they
went to a cave together, didn�t they?�
�And that caused problems like the story said, Vaan,� this
was Ashe, sounding sleepy.�
�Stories aren�t meant to make sense all the time, Vaan,�
Balthier sounded amused.� �They�re meant
to be anecdotes.�
�Anec� dotes?�
�They�re supposed to have hidden meanings.� Patience.� �I suppose this one is about the pain of
forbidden love, something suitably dramatic.�
Don�t girls like those sorts of stories?�
�I like happy endings,� Penelo said, somewhat
tentatively.� �Ashe?�
�If they could be happy in the short time they had, why
not?�
�You�re both romantics.�
�And Vaan?� Penelo asked, with a giggle.
�Vaan is a boy, we�re not supposed to be very much into
romance, at this age.� There was a muffled �hey!�, then a �Good night, kids.�
��Night, dad.�
Balthier emerged from the room, closing the door gently
behind him.� He smirked when Basch
pulled him into an embrace, brushing a brief kiss over his lips.� �Food�s in the kitchen.�
�I saw.� Basch buried his nose in silky brown hair.� Expensive shampoo.� �Thanks.�
�Long day?� Balthier twisted in his arms, tugging him
towards the kitchen.
A nod.� �A couple of
cyanide poisonings.� We�ve a few leads
on the cause, and none whatsoever on suspects.�
Unfortunately, one of the stiffs happened to be a well-known imam.�
�Ah.�
�You can imagine,� Basch rubbed his eyes wearily, as he sat
down, watching Balthier work the microwave.�
�But the other was absolutely unrelated.� Typical yuppie, young lawyer in one of the larger corporate law
firms.� The sudden warm food scent overrode the pervading faint lemon that
seemed to linger about the kitchen whenever it was Balthier�s turn to cook, and
it made his mouth water.� �What did you
cook?�
�Broiled salmon and sake, fried tofu, glutinous rice�
saut�ed vegetables,� Balthier said, absently, picking cutlery from the drawer.
�You�re a treasure.�
�You�re still eating the vegetables.�

--

Noah arrived again for breakfast the next day, bearing three
thick and over-sweet chocolate milkshakes, this time early enough to attempt to
help with breakfast; and was quickly banished to the dining room.� Balthier had little patience with others
when cooking (an exercise in perfectionism).�
The children happily occupied with the offering, he beckoned to Basch,
and they moved to the relative privacy of the study.�
�More?� Basch guessed, once they closed the door.
Noah nodded.� �Three
others.� Old lady from uptown and a
couple of preppy university kids.�
Again, no link.�
�Lab gotten back on what might have caused it?�
�They ate it, so it has to be some sort of food or drink,�
Noah yawned.� �Chief called in the
middle of the bloody night.� His lip quirked.�
The Chief never called Basch, being a closet homophobe and very leery of
catching any hint at all of his personal life (the sort that knew and tried his
best not to be homophobic, but couldn�t help it).�
�You should have called me,� Basch arched an eyebrow.
�Right,� Noah drawled.�
�Remember the last time I did that?�
Basch grimaced.� He
had been in the middle of a� delicate moment, with Balthier, and he had reached
for the discarded phone on the dresser out of instinct.� Balthier had snatched it up instead,
snarled, �Whoever this is, Basch is busy fucking at the moment,� and
proceeded to let out a series of breathy moans, the offending piece of
technology dropped under the bed.� Noah
hadn�t been able to look at him for a week, and needless to say, never
called him at night ever again, even in the case of the family emergency last
year.
�Anyway, Chief wants us in the office first thing.� Before the press conference turns him into
an angry badger.�

--

The coroner Ondore peered myopically at them from over the
latest body � a withered old lady � over the dissection table at the
morgue.� �Same cause of death as the
others, cyanide poisoning.� Time of
death � hn, seems she was only found this morning� died last night, probably
around nine.� No food.� The students had been eating pizza.��
�Thanks,� Basch said, automatically breathing through his
mouth, around the formaldehyde and meat stench of the morgue.� �Something in common that they all drank,
then? If the food doesn�t match.�
Ondore nodded.�
�Should be, and probably something with a strong smell, like coffee or
soup.� Should have all reached them some
way or another.� Maybe check into where
they�d been the last few days.� A caf�,
and such.� If it was something they
bought, better send a team up to remove it before anyone else tries to drink.�

--

�So.� Everybody moved
in totally different circles, or in old Mrs Havers� case, didn�t move much at
all.� Noah said in disgust, when they met up with the other team on the case
back at the office.� �Whatever crazy
perp did this, we�ve had no notice to the media or any basic culprit that could
have known all of the deceased.� I�m
thinking a sociopath that�s somehow poisoning random people for kicks.�
The worst sort.�
Basch could feel a headache coming.�
�Any leads on how he did it?�
�Those would all have to go for testing.� Guess we wait until then.� Vossler jerked
his thumb at several cardboard boxes of recently confiscated, various household
drinks, powdered or otherwise, on the desk behind them.� Drace peered at them, thoughtfully.
�We could make it easier simply by testing the stuff they
all have in common, first.�
�Milk, coffee, hot chocolate powder� yoghurt? Why the hell
did you take yoghurt? Orange juice� seems to be common.� Noah walked over and
poked a coffee tin.� �Any idea how long
it�ll take?�
�Probably a few hours.�
Ondore will test everything, just to be safe.� Vossler said.�
�Any idea where they bought��
�Already ahead of you, Noah.� Got some receipts and talked to their relatives and friends.� Seems that there�s a few places they could
have gone to in common, but Chief wants more beef before he�ll issue a
confiscation warrant.� Media breathing
down his back.�
At that point, Basch�s phone rang.� He smiled apologetically, and picked up.� �Basch Ronsenburg speaking.�
�Dad,� Ashe�s voice sounded strained.� �We have a problem.� Dad�s fainted and he won�t wake
up.� Vaan and Penelo are going crazy.�
A cold pit opened in his stomach.� �Ashe.� Did he drink or
eat anything just now?�
�I don�t see� no wait.�
He came home early to do some work in the study.� There�s a cup.� Coffee.�
�Don�t touch that coffee, sweetheart.� Basch was glad he
sounded calm � his hands shook.� �Call
an��
�Already did, dad,� Ashe said, always the calm one, though
her voice hitched.� �He�s going to be
okay, isn�t he?�
�I�m coming home, sweetheart.� Call Fran, okay? If the ambulance comes before I get home, give
me a buzz.�
He wondered how stricken he looked, that Vossler and Drace
instantly began sorting out the coffee from the boxes.� Noah grabbed his arm.� �Let�s go.�
Vossler will talk to the Chief.�

--

Basch didn�t remember much of the trip home: Noah drove, and
he felt dizzy.� Dreaming.� Disbelieving.� On the last leg of the journey (inappropriate use of a siren),
his phone rang.� �Dad?� Ashe sounded
calmer now, and he could hear Fran�s voice in the background, soothing and
authoritative.� �We�re getting into the
ambulance.� Saint Helen�s hospital.�
�Thanks.� Be there
soon.� He turned to Noah.� �Saint
Helen�s.�
Noah nodded, and swerved, to the angry horns of outraged
motorists behind them and shouts of �Fucking crazy police!�
Basch took in a shuddering breath, as he closed the
phone.� �I don�t believe��
�You�re not going to break down in front of your kids,� Noah
said, and the cold, controlled calm snapped him out of his daze.� �You�re going to the hospital, and you�re
going to tell them everything�s going to be fine, like a proper dad.� A
breath.� �I�ll come over tonight.� You
can talk then.

--

Fran glanced at them when they arrived, queenly in an auburn
dress that likely cost more than his monthly wage could afford, on the waiting
bench of the sterile white of the hospital, Penelo in her lap, Vaan on her
other hand, and Ashe primly beside her, tightly holding Penelo�s hand.� Stunningly beautiful, with chocolate-hued
skin and silvery hair, taller than many men, she was amongst one of the most
highly paid models in the world, though only choosing exclusive contracts of
late, and so having several long blocks of free time which she usually spent
traveling.� Balthier�s closest friend,
they had met during the first shoot she had done for Rolling Stones
magazine.� �Basch.� Noah.�
The doctors have taken him.�
�Dad!� Penelo and Vaan instantly latched on to his legs,
babbling at the same time.� He dropped
to his knees and hugged them, and hoped his voice didn�t sound too wooden.
�Everything�s going to be all right.� A kiss on Penelo�s
forehead, then he took a seat next to Fran, cradling Vaan and hugging Penelo
against his side.� Noah picked up Ashe,
whose eyes were fixed on the ground.�
�Dad, what�s happening?� Ashe asked, quietly. �What was in
that coffee?�
�Something bad?� Fran asked, with an arched eyebrow.�
�Where did he buy the coffee, sweetie?� Noah ruffled Ashe�s
hair.� Too distressed to retaliate, she
looked aside.
�It was after he picked us up today.� He complained he was in a hurry over
deadlines and so didn�t have time to go to Oshe�s like he normally did, so he
picked it up at Cavendish�s, instead, along with milk and stuff.� He wouldn�t let Vaan buy the banana and
hazelnut spread.� I wanted blueberry
yoghurt.� Um� and there was a peach
Danish�� Ashe began to sniffle, pushing a face against Noah�s shirt.� His brother looked grim.� Cavendish�s was a gourmet supermarket,
popular with the yuppie-higher classes, especially those with a decent amount
of disposable income.� All the victims
were at least of comfortable wealth; the university students both had large
allowances.�
Fran glanced thoughtfully at Noah, then gently pulled Ashe
into her lap.� Nodding his thanks, his
brother hurried away, already taking out his phone.
The door to Balthier�s ward opened, and a doctor stepped
out, with a chart, smiling when he saw them.�
�He was lucky.� Only a small
dose, and treatment was sought quickly.�
We have him on intravenous sodium nitrate at the moment, and he�ll need
to be in observation for at least a week, to see if there are any side
effects.�
Basch let out the breath he hadn�t realized he had been
holding.

--

Being firmly evicted from a hospital ward was a new
experience for him, but visiting hours were visiting hours.� Fran had looked him over and offered to
drive.� The person at the counter of the
nearest MacDonald�s drive through had whistled, astonished, to see a yellow
Ferrari Spider pull up and the most beautiful woman he would ever see in his
life ask for Happy Meals and combo meals.�
At home, Basch didn�t feel hungry, but he ate anyway, sensing that he
would upset Ashe if he didn�t.� When he
put three emotionally exhausted children to bed, and saw Fran out for the
night, he poured himself cognac from Balthier�s drinks cabinet.
Noah arrived when he was in his second cup, shook his head,
then poured himself a glass, sitting down on the couch next to his
brother.� �Want me to put you on leave?�
Basch shook his head.�
�Maybe for tomorrow.� I�ll go
part time until he�s discharged.�
�Sure you want to work?� Dryly, �Chief may pull us off the
case, you know.� Personal involvement,
and all that.�
�I�ll argue that.�
There was no personal motive.�
It�s a bloody� senseless� set of murders.� I just won�t make the arrest, that�s all.�
�Good luck with that,� Noah sighed.� �But I think he may have no choice.� We�re the best he has.�
Basch made a face.�
�I�m not looking forward to the press, once it gets out that Balthier
has��
�Can�t keep it quiet?�
�At least half the hospital must have recognized Fran.� It�s the only part of his personal life
that�s ever leaked, along with his� preferences.� Wryly, �Though I suppose the
kids, and myself��
�Ah.� Noah clapped him on the shoulder, in sympathy.� His phone rang.� �Hello? Ondore, yep, it�s Noah.�
Oh.� Was the coffee? Yep.� Everybody had the same coffee? Yep.� Tell the chief.� Thanks.� Yeah, he�s all
right.� Yeah, Basch is fine, too, he�s
even stopped drinking.� The kids are
sleeping.� Right.� Yeah, I�ll tell him.� Bye.� A glance at Basch.� �Ondore sends his regards.��
A nod, and a yawn.�
�Cavendish�s��
�Vossler and Drace will handle that.� You should get some sleep.� I�ll crash on the couch.�

--

Paparazzi seemed to have been kept to a minimum, to Basch�s
relief � he wasn�t sure if this was Fran�s doing, or because Balthier was so
intensely private that no one had actually realized, despite Fran�s appearances
in the hospital, that the friend she was visiting was one of the country�s most
celebrated photographers.� Balthier was
awake on the third day, when he visited; he was afforded a weak smirk.� �It was the coffee.�
Basch nodded, taking a seat.� �You didn�t drink much?�
Balthier shook his head, slowly.� �Saved by my good taste.�
The coffee from Cavendish�s is appalling.� I took a sip and forgot about it.� Felt dizzy after a while, had difficulty breathing, then just collapsed.� Think� I gave the kids a fright.�
Basch reached forward and squeezed one warm hand, trying not
to look at the intravenous drips.�
�You�re going to be fine.�
�I know that,� Balthier drawled.� �But I don�t like hospitals.�
When do I get discharged?�
�A week, maybe.�
�Good Lord.� I have
deadlines to meet.�
�You can�t go anywhere like this,� Basch kissed smooth
knuckles.� �I called your studio.�
�Bastard,� Affectionate.�
�You can�t have told my crew that their dragon of a boss is human.� A
pause.� �What about your work?�
�I�m on leave,� Basch admitted.� �I was called off the case.�
The poisonings.� Personal
involvement, and such.�
�Noah?�
�They need at least one of us.� Noah�s with Vossler and Drace.�
�Huh.� He and Vossler
will be at each other�s throats in a day.� Closed eyes.
�They�re good friends.�
�Last year�s Christmas party.�
�It was a misunderstanding,� Basch�s lip quirked.�
�Right, a misunderstanding with attempted murder.�
�It wasn�t attempted murder.�
Balthier chuckled, weakly.�
�Where are the kids?�
�School.� Fran�s
fetching them today.�
�I�m almost insulted to think there�s been no scandal.�
�Yet,� Basch said, a little reproachfully.� His hand was squeezed.
�If it gets out, would you mind?�
�We�ve discussed this.� A nip, over knuckles.� �It won�t matter.�
�Damage your career.�
Officer.� A smirk.� �If you take
up housekeeping full time, you�ll better take cooking classes.�
�Are you trying to tell me something?� Basch felt
relieved.� If Balthier was up for
banter, he would be fine, after all.

--

Noah told them both, dropping by one night when the children
were asleep, that they�d traced the cyanide to a particular type of the
compound used in sculpture.� Looking
back through the video cameras of Cavendish�s had not been useful, as none
focused on the coffee grinding machine in question, and the coffee lobby group
(�I didn�t even know there was one,� Noah had snickered) had resisted strongly
impeding sales of coffee throughout supermarkets for the time being, as well as
the press printing anything about it having to do with coffee.� Unfortunately, the latter strategy had
failed, and there was, Noah said, a current sudden conversion of coffee people
to tea.� There were two more cases,
before they�d managed to get all the coffee recalled.�
�We�ve some leads on a suspect,� he finished, sipping his
tea, then glancing at Balthier, ensconced on his brother�s lap on the
armchair.� �I�m surprised they let you
out so early.�
�He insisted,� Basch said, mildly.� �And there was an incident with a Roman Catholic nurse.�
�An incident?�
�She dropped certain comments about the suitability of
homosexual parents,� Balthier shrugged, helping himself with a wriggle to a
biscuit from the spread at the table.�
�Oh.� Which retort
did you give her?�
�I told her that if the only requirement for parenting was
that one party had a vagina and the other a prick, then we�ll still be
monkeys,� Balthier said, crumbling shortbread into his mouth.�
�Ah.� The polite
one.�
�I was feeling mellow,� Balthier admitted.� �Besides, the hospital clothes and food were
unacceptable.� Behind him, Basch rolled his eyes.

--

Noah appeared one breakfast with a newspaper, which he
brandished proudly, along with a tub of Ben and Jerry�s chocolate ice
cream.� His face fell when he saw Basch
already reading the same newspaper at the table.� �Oh.�
�Congratulations,� Balthier said, setting out another
plate.� �We�ve got hash browns, toast,
buttered mushrooms and eggs of choice.�
�Scrambled,� Noah said, taking a seat next to his
brother.� The headline of the article
read �Prominent artist Tonberry arrested for poisoning spree�.� �The crazy man had something about the
so-called bourgeoisie elite.� Decided to
poison the coffee grinding machines of the gourmet supermarkets one by
one.� The perfect untraceable crime, or
so he thought.�
�You got a tip off?� Basch asked, watching the kids attack
the ice cream, now that Balthier had left to the kitchen.�
�Not a lot of bronze sculpture artists in the city with
access to potassium ferrocyanide,� Noah admitted. ��Coming to work today?�
�I�m still on leave until tomorrow,� Basch folded the
paper.� �Tell Vossler and Drace thanks,
for me.�
�No problems.� What
are you going to do?�
Basch carefully looked down at the newspaper, affecting
harassed boredom.� �Balthier�s roped me
into helping with some shoots with antique furniture in his studio.�
Noah looked sympathetic, if amused.� �When they come up with a new term for
someone who�s henpecked by another man, you�ll be in the example in the
dictionary.�
�Indeed.�

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