Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Leather and Lace ❯ Chapter 6

Leather and Lace

By: Maidens of Konan

(Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any part of Fushigi Yûgi, it is owned by Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! Non canon ideas and any original characters that appear are the intellectual property of the author(s) and should not be copied without permission. Recipe requests for Miaka's yummy meat pies will be taken at intermission.)

Chapter Six

Miaka closed the door to her apartment and then leaned back against it, allowing the morning's events to replay themselves over and over in her mind.

What had happened between her and Dante had taken on the feel of one of her fantasies, but a glance at the hat clutched in her hands assured her that this was no dream, and that the man who had removed it was flesh and blood real.

It was also proof that she had willingly and wholeheartedly kissed a man besides Taka, which meant she better get a handle on how she truly felt about the Dante/Tasuki connection before things went any further.

When her daydreams about Tasuki had begun a little over a year ago, she hadn't been concerned. They were the inevitable fallout from a crush she'd harbored, and a way to soothe her frustration at not being able to be with Taka. In moving to Colorado, she would put an end to the wayward thoughts about the red-haired warrior. In the meantime, there had seemed to be no harm in letting her imagination have free rein.

The fantasies had indeed stopped when she'd first arrived in America, but only, as it turned out, because she was too busy trying to adjust to her new life and the Colorado altitude. For close to six weeks, she'd been so exhausted by the end of each day she didn't even want to see the word romance. But as the months had marched on and she'd gotten established in her new home, it had become increasingly apparent that closer proximity to Taka wasn't rekindling the old passion in their relationship; if anything, it seemed as if they were growing apart.

The fantasies about Tasuki had returned, albeit in even greater detail. It troubled her, but she still had given in to them, rationalizing that it couldn't be any more harmful than reading romance novels and imagining herself as the main character. To occasionally imagine how a scenario between herself and the sweet and sexy bandit warrior might have played out provided a much needed escape from her long time frustration over what was happening in her real relationship. It also gave her pause as to if she'd gotten serious about a man before knowing what she really wanted. The heart could make miracles, she knew that from experience...but it could also make some unwise choices. In many ways, Taka wasn't acting any differently than Tamahome had, but she had been too young and too full of hormones to see how certain traits could be wearing on her feelings, while the feelings of others who had cared for her had been taken for granted.

She had had plenty of time to think everything over, to pinpoint her own shortcomings and resentments that were leading to what she feared was a dissolution of their once magical love. She had tried her best to discuss these concerns with Taka, but he hadn't shared his...because he hadn't any qualms about the path he'd chosen to take. In his world, everything would be fine once he made his goal. Complaining about his lack of attention to her always made him more attentive...but the attention wasn't satisfying. She wanted him to seek out her company without being prompted; the last thing she wanted was to act like a nagging, demanding girlfriend even if that seemed to be the only way of getting through to Taka.

So she'd given up and let things go on as they were. She tried to stay positive in her outlook, but there were many times that she'd found herself praying to Suzaku to light up her life once more. That was why she felt meeting up with Dante was not just a happy coincidence. Suzaku would know the longings of her heart and soul...

Unfortunately, there was no way for her to find out for sure. The Universe of the Four Gods was closed to her, and the book was still safely tucked away in the library archive in Japan. Without those things, she had no way of finding out the answers to her questions. But did it really matter if she had had access to that world? She wouldn't be satisfied with mere verbal contact, assuming any attempt she made at communication would succeed in the first place. Not only that, it wasn't Taiits-kun's way to allow the dispensation of direct information - a hard lesson she'd learned on her first meeting with the kind but irascible Oracle. Taiits-kun's rules required the questioner to find enlightment and to prove their worth through trials of character. With the Oracle, there had never been any easy answers. Figuring out what question to ask in the first place was even harder.

If what's just happened to me has a purpose for that world, then the answers will become clear to me in time. There's nothing to be done but to keep going and see what develops.

A jingling collar bell heralded the arrival of Mizu, who had appeared in the hallway in search of his mistress. As soon as the cat spotted her staring intently off into space as she was wont to do, he padded up to her and butted his head against her ankles to bring her out of her muse. Miaka gave a start, then smiled and crouched down to scratch beneath her pet's fuzzy chin while he loudly purred his approval of her attentions.

"You knew Dante was special, didn't you kitty? You sensed it from the moment you saw him." She smiled. "So what do you think? Is it just because he's the incarnation of Tasuki that I'm so attracted to him?"

The purring ceased as Mizu regarded her with a hard, unblinking gaze.

"Does it matter? I really don't know." Miaka sighed, gave him a final stroke from head to tail, and stood up. "All I know is that it's like seeing two people in one very beautiful body..."

The Siamese responded with a low, rather gruff meow, and then ran to jump onto the back of the couch, his favorite perch when he wanted to keep an eye on things. Miaka smiled fondly at her pet, and then kicked off her sandals before heading off to the bedroom to change.

Halfway to her destination, the phone rang. She quickly changed direction, as a whimsical vision of Dante ordering the cabbie to turn around and bring him back to her apartment building popped into her mind. She grabbed the cordless receiver off the table where she left it, just before they had exchanged their first kiss. The thought brought on dreamy smile as she answered the phone's summons.

"Hello?" A thrill of anticipation ran through her as she waited for a reply.

"Miaka! Where the hell have you been?" An agitated male voice barked in Japanese, bringing her down to earth with a jolt.

"Taka!" Guilt washed over her like an icy cold shower. Oh gods, I completely forgot to call him while we were at the coffeehouse! "I'm so sorry about this morning! I was running late and got stopped for speeding. Then I had one of those dizzy spells again." She explained hastily. "The policeman was worried that I would have another one if I tried to drive myself, so he arranged to bring me home! It couldn't be helped."

It was the first time she had out and out lied to him, and she hoped it would be the last. She hated the sick feeling churning in the pit of her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she sank onto the sofa and Mizu jumped into her lap. She absently began stroking him as he curled up into a purring ball of bliss.

"You do realize I was going to be skipping an important meeting just so we could be together, right?" Taka said, only a little less heatedly. "I was able to make it after all, but I might as well not have bothered. Do you think I could concentrate when I was wondering what happened? I wasted his time and mine...for nothing."

Is it also a waste of your time to bother asking if I'm okay? Though she didn't put the thought into words, her body bristled with suppressed anger. Mizu raised his head as he felt her thigh muscles contracting beneath him, then stood up and began to knead the flesh beneath him with soothing, velvety paws.

It's not like I stood you up on purpose, Taka." Her hand gripped the receiver tightly, as the other sought to reassure her pet that there was no cause for concern. "As I just told you, I had a spell of altitude sickness and the policeman who stopped me was the one who insisted I shouldn't be driving! If you don't believe me, you can always call and ask him!"

"What about your cel phone?" Taka snapped, ignoring her sarcastic suggestion. "I didn't buy it for you to use as a paperweight! All you had to do was call me and I could have come and gotten you!"

Miaka closed her eyes and counted to ten before she dared to reply. "Yes, I did think of that. Unfortunately the phone didn't work because I completely forgot to recharge the battery last night. It was very late when I got home from work and I was tired...the only things I cared about were a hot bath and a soft pillow."

"I've also been trying to call you at home all morning, Miaka!" He repeated stubbornly. "Didn't you turn on your machine?"

"I was in a rush when I left, and I must have forgotten! I screwed up! I'm sorry! How many times do I have to apologize?" She shot back, finally losing her temper. "You're a busy man. I would think you have better things to do than waste your time listening to me grovel for forgiveness!"

A tense silence blanketed the connection as she continued to seethe. When she remained quiet, Taka cleared his throat.

"I told myself I wasn't going to yell at you and I did." He said heavily. "It's just that you scared the crap out of me! I knew something had to be wrong when you didn't show, because that's never happened before! And then when I couldn't get in touch...dammit, Miaka, I hated not knowing where you were, and if you were all right!" He paused and a loud exhalation of breath crackled over the phone line. "I know you didn't do it on purpose, though, and I'm sorry if I'm being harsh. I'm glad you're all right. I was worried and...I miss you."

The sincere apology coupled with the note of genuine longing in his voice helped ease her wounded feelings. "I'm sorry I worried you. I'll make sure to call you right away if anything should ever delay me again." She murmured, leaning back into the cushions, relaxing in the aftermath of the storm.

But her state of tranquility was short lived. As her gaze dropped to the hat lying beside her, her eyes widened at the realization that she had passed up not one, not two, but three opportunities to call Taka because she'd been more excited about talking to Dante.

Blowing off Taka for someone else. It was a monumental step forward, and she had taken it with a shocking lack of hesitation. Was that a sign of how much their relationship had fractured, or proof of the strength of her emerging feelings for Dante?

As if from a great distance she heard a voice speaking to her in an inquiring tone. She tried to focus on what Taka was saying, but ended up having to ask him to repeat the question.

"I said, since you're off tonight and I'm not working late, why don't I stop by? We could have dinner together." He said, his voice dropping into the low, intimate tone that had always weakened her knees. "I'll cook, though we both know it won't be as good as one of your meals. I could give you one of those shiatsu-style back rubs you like after dinner, and then after that... I could make the rest of you feel better too…" His voice trailed off meaningfully.

In times gone by she would have jumped at the chance to together, short notice or not. With one smoldering kiss, Dante had changed that. Given her response to that kiss, she could hardly entertain the idea of sleeping with Taka.

But that wasn't the entire reason. For a long time now Taka had been using the act of love as a way to appease her between separations, giving her just enough of the closeness and intimacy he knew she craved from him to keep her going. When she first arrived in the States she had been quite happy to accept this kind of interlude as compensation for other slights … but that was no longer the case. She hated that sex had become a meaningless ritual that smacked of a busy master throwing his neglected pet a bone, rather than the joyous, full hearted mingling of bodies it had once been.

And Taka's spending the night with her would mean she'd be forced to ignore Dante's phone call.

"That's a lovely thought." She told him. "But to be perfectly honest, I'm still feeling a bit peaky and out of sorts...and since I have to work the early shift tomorrow, I really think it's best to have a quiet night to myself."

The stunned silence that greeted her response was gratifying, and Miaka suppressed a nervous giggle. Taka had been rendered speechless at her calm refusal of this rare treat, and she had to admit she was petty enough to be glad. After all the times he had blown off their dates, he had finally gotten a dose of his own medicine.

"All right, I'll take a rain check." He said, in a noticeably subdued tone. "I know you've been working really hard, and after what happened to you today I don't want you overdoing it. Altitude sickness is nothing to mess around with, you know. You need to pump the fluids and get plenty of rest."

"I know, and I will." She promised, softening slightly. "Thank you for understanding." A smattering of guilt had returned now that he was showing concern for her well being...even if it was a bit late. "Taka…I'm really, truly sorry about what happened this morning. I was not thinking straight. I should have called you just as soon as I got home."

"It's okay. You weren't feeling well...and anyway, I know I've done the same to you about a hundred times since you got here." He murmured contritely. "I'm very sorry for that. I wish it didn't have to come down to you having to get a speeding ticket because you didn't want to miss seeing me. But it will be better in the future, honey. The long hours I work will be rewarded by my getting the kind of promotion where I'll be able to delegate most of the stuff I'm doing now to others. When that happens, I'll be with you so much you'll think I'm your shadow! You understand that, don't you?"

There was an expectant pause as he waited for her to tell her that yes, of course she understood that he was doing it for them, and that yes, she wholeheartedly supported his efforts to attain financial freedom...but for the first time in their relationship Miaka found herself refusing to utter the words that were no longer true. Instead she rubbed a hand across her eyes while a bitter voice within her whispered, I don't need a mansion, fancy vehicles and truckloads of possessions to be happy in life. He's doing it for himself. He's a workaholic, with him, there will always be one more thing to work for. If he's planning out our future, why hasn't he ever asked me to marry him?

"I do understand that earning a living comes first." She finally replied, her voice heavy with resignation. "It's just the way it is." And always will be.

When Taka spoke again, it was in the careful, cajoling manner of a man that is no longer quite so sure of the mood of his woman.

"I had some great news I was going to surprise you with at breakfast, Mi-chan. I managed to clear my entire schedule for the weekend and I thought maybe we could finally plan on taking you over to Cripple Creek. Uh, that is, if you're feeling better."

She wanted to believe it would happen, but the number of times had they made plans to visit the historical town only to have Taka cancel because of work cast a more than reasonable doubt in her mind that he would ever follow through on his promise.

"I'm sure I'll be feeling all right by the time you take me there." She said with a touch of irony.

"Then it's a date! I've always wanted to take you to dinner at the Broadmoor Hotel. " He declared warmly. "I know! We'll stay there for the weekend and eat at their five star restaurant! I'm going to make sure you have the best time ever, my love!"

Despite her doubts and grievances, the echoes of the sweet, eager Taka of old in his voice brought hope to her heart.

As Tamahome, she'd known he'd had a fixation with money, but its importance was for the noble cause of caring for his sick father and siblings. It had started out that way with Taka...but now everything was different. He loved money for money's sake...and seemed to crave it to the point of excluding anything -or anyone- that kept him from it.

But perhaps this spontaneous offer signaled a change in his thinking. Perhaps his worry for her had made him see that his priorities were in the wrong order. A romantic getaway might be all they needed to reawaken the passion they had shared. After all he had meant to her, and all he'd done for her, she should try to work things out before she turned to someone else. "It all sounds wonderful. I'm so excited to see Cripple Creek!"

"I'll call you tomorrow at ten to finalize our plans." He replied. "If you're feeling up to it this afternoon, why don't you take my credit card and go and buy yourself some clothes and a sexy new nightie?"

The fleeting happiness that had blossomed within her wilted in an instant. Now that he knows I'm not mad, he's back to treating me like a mistress, and our time together like a business contact. Why does he do that? Why can't he see that we've lost the closeness that used to be the cornerstones of our relationship?

He sounded so detached, so removed from the person who had said his purpose in life was to love her. She felt she barely knew who Taka Sukinami was anymore.

But you've changed too, haven't you, Miaka? Her conscience rebuked her. Once upon a time you loved Taka so much you wouldn't look twice at Tasuki as a man, let alone want to kiss him! So what happened? You aren't the type of girl to play games, or has that changed?

"Miaka? Are you still there?"

"Sorry, I spaced out for a minute." She replied mechanically. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"You really sound tired. Just forget about the shopping and get some rest."

"I think I will."

"Don't forget to charge your cel phone, okay?"

"Yes, Taka."

After exchanging goodbyes, Miaka hung up the phone and reached for the policeman's hat lying next to her. Leaning back into the couch, she put up her feet as she balanced the hat between her hands, staring at it as if it could give her the answers she sought. Her fingers idly traced the law enforcement crest on the front, and then slipped inside the brim to caress the inner contours that had rested upon its owner's glorious hair. A rueful smirk curled her lips.

How pathetic am I? I turned down a pampering session and sex with Taka to fondle a hat and wait for a call that might not come.

Nevertheless, she was filled with certainty that Dante would call her if he said he was going to do it. She was equally as sure that she wouldn't think about anyone else in answering that call. She couldn't deny that she looked forward to hearing that low growl of his voice in her ear more than she did to a weekend getaway to the Broadmoor. The guilt that came with that admission was not in feeling that way, but that she had been diverted from telling Taka the truth about having them. She had no problem in being totally honest with Dante right after meeting him...surely she could do the same with a man she'd been seeing for years.

It was too much to think about at the moment. It was giving her a tension headache, which reminded her of the hat she still held.

He's going to need it before tomorrow. I suppose I could drive down to Brew You and leave it for him there, but that seems silly- why get Craig involved when I know where Dante works? But bringing this back to him at the precinct building could definitely get Dante in trouble if his coworkers question how it ended up with me. I really don't want to have to explain why I have it either...

Mired in her mental debate, Miaka jumped at the loud, jangling sound made by something falling on the floor next to her feet. Looking down, she saw Mizu staring up at her, her car keys lying between his front paws. Smiling, she reached down to scratch him behind the ears. "I understand and appreciate the suggestion, my little neko. I'd love to take it to him myself, but I'm afraid I don't know where he lives."

The cat jumped up on the end table to paw at the cordless phone, and glared at her with affectionate contempt when his mistress groaned and playfully smacked herself on the forehead. "Gah! Of course…why didn't I think of that? I'll call information to see if his address is listed! If it is, I'll go over around six thirty and drop it off. It'll save him a trip…and I'll get to see where he lives!"

She picked up the cat and hugged him to her, ignoring his half-hearted struggle to get away. "Thank you, Mizu-pizu… you're one incredible kitty!"

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As soon as he got home from work, Dante replaced his uniform with his favorite cropped t-shirt and a comfortable pair of cutoffs, and then wandered into the kitchen to prepare some supper.

He had just gotten dinner on the stove top and had uncorked a bottle of wine when the front doorbell chimed. He frowned in displeasure at the demand, but made no move to answer it, willing whoever was at his door to leave him in peace with his glass of wine and his simmering meal.

An afternoon of having to listen the lame excuses of drivers while he sweated like a pig within the hot confines of his long sleeved uniform had amply punished him for slacking off in the morning. Despite the less than stellar latter half of his work day, he had returned to the station at the end of it with high hopes, sure that the Boss had gotten him off his traffic stint. Unfortunately, Connery's administrative assistant had dashed those hopes by informing him that the old man had gone home early without leaving any word as to Dante's status.

After that, he had to spend extra time re-doing paperwork, all due to stupid clerical errors on his part. Then, on his way home, the Jeep picked up a nail in the left front tire. While he had been changing it, he had spotted a car that looked just like Miaka's. His heart had leapt with excitement until he spotted the 'Reality Sucks' sticker on the front bumper, and the middle-aged male behind the wheel. Thoroughly disgruntled, he returned to his task feeling as if he were awash in a sea of disappointments and frustration.

So, to put it mildly, he was simply in no mood to deal with the potential problem that might be standing outside his door. If I don't answer, they'll give up and leave. He thought, as he rubbed his aching neck with one hand and continued to sauté his dinner with the other. To his annoyance, the doorbell sounded again... and again…and again. Just his luck that whoever was waiting for an answer was a patient and determined person.

Muttering curses, Dante turned down the burner. As he stalked out of the kitchen, he shot a glare at the clock on the wall. It was too late in the day for a salesman, and far too early for the lady from across the street to run over with a report on all the unethical activities going on in the neighborhood. He chuckled grimly at the thought of her; after a very memorable run-in with Dante's infamous temper, the nutcase had suddenly developed enough common sense to not bother him at mealtime. Bothering him in the middle of the night with false alarms was another story. He'd have to address the issue with her the next time she dared crossing that particular line.

That left just one more possibility for a visitor. His best friend was the only person foolhardy enough to show up unannounced, at this inopportune time of day. Craig had probably been chomping at the bit to find out how a little hottie like Miaka had fallen into Dante's lap and what Dante was planning to do about it. The thought didn't sit well. Although he had the best of intentions, the guy's preoccupation with getting him permanently hooked up with a woman was starting to wear a bit thin.

He'll butt into the conversation if he's here when I call her. Dante thought with a scowl. But if I don't call her because he's hangin' around, Miaka will think I stood her up an' my prospects are gonna be shot to hell! Dammit!

He shot a narrow-eyed glance out the skinny window beside his front door; forewarned was forearmed, as far as he was concerned. The instant he saw the beautiful Japanese woman standing on his front porch, however, his bad mood was gone. Miaka! I'll be damned, how'd she ever find me? Uh-oh, she looks like she's havin' second thoughts about bein' here ...gotta think of somethin' to get her t'stay. Hm...I know, I'll invite her in for supper!

After taking a long, deep breath to calm himself, he yanked the door open, happy for the first time since he'd moved in that there was no outer storm door to separate him from an unexpected visitor.

"Miaka! Long time no see!" He exclaimed, leaning a hand against the doorframe as he smiled down into green eyes.

The object of his delight was shifting nervously, her hands clasped behind her back. He allowed his gaze to move over her, taking thorough stock of how cute and sexy she looked. Thick and wavy auburn hair fell loose about her shoulders, making his fingers itch to run themselves though it. Her large, gorgeous eyes held a smile and what looked like shyness- a guess confirmed by the pink tinge that had appeared in her cheeks as he continued his silent inspection. In contrast to the dress of this morning, she now wore a pair of denim shorts that showed off sweetly curved hips and a tantalizing amount of leg, and a tight white T-shirt that emphasized her womanly attributes.

His gaze lingered a bit longer on the most prominent parts of her anatomy before returning to her face, just in time to see that Miaka was checking him out too- if a little more subtly. When her eyes widened and fixed upon a spot near his shoulder, he automatically glanced down, curious to know what had caught her attention. Comprehension dawned as he spotted the bead encrusted braid his sisters fondly referred to as a 'rat tail'.

"You have a braid." She murmured, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, I have to hide it since it isn't regulation." He admitted. "And I don't have 'em in, but I may as well tell ya I like wearin' earrings."

She stared at his ear lobes, obviously seeing the telltale holes for the first time.

"Hope that doesn't put ya off or anythin'." He added quickly.

She shook her head vehemently "Of course not! I think that earrings can be very attractive on a man." The glow that had appeared in her eyes gave proof to her words.

"That's good to hear," Dante drawled, giving her a fangy smile. "I'll make sure I'm wearin' some next time."

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Miaka averted her face, rendered unaccountably shy at the implication of Dante's comment and the pleasurable mental image of him wearing a certain bandit's trademark jewelry.

As if he doesn't look sexy enough now, she thought, as she ran a hidden glance over his torso, appreciating how his cropped off t-shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, muscled chest and nicely defined biceps. Low riding cut-offs hugged his lean hips, and exposed his flat abdomen to advantage. Her gaze skittered over long, strong-looking legs, to naked, Nike encased feet. I'm in big trouble if he decides to invite me in.

Retrieving her composure, she brought the hat from behind her back."Here, you left this in my car."

To her dismay, Dante stopped smiling and stared at it as if it had sprouted four legs and a tail. "I thought you might get in trouble if I brought it to the station." She explained, all the while thinking that maybe Mizu's idea wasn't quite so wonderful after all. I should've called and asked him if it was okay to come over instead of just showing up on his doorstep. That was really dumb.

When he made no move to take his property from her, she continued in a nervous staccato. "I- I got your address from information- I'm very sorry to intrude-you probably didn't need it - you're busy, so I'll leave!"

Dropping her gaze, she thrust the hat forward. Through the screen of her lashes, she could see Dante's hand rising in response, but instead of taking the offered item his fingers encircled her wrist. Sucking in a startled breath, she looked up.

"You're not intruding, yes I need it, and I'm not busy." He stated succinctly. "Please don't leave."

"But you-"

"I want you to stay, Miaka." He repeated. "The bad attitude is 'cause ya didn't come here only to see me, that's all."

She blew out a breath. "Oh."

"Yeah." He said, watching her face go pink. "Oh."

As their gazes locked and happiness began to trickle through the cracks in her heart, Miaka knew that an irrevocable change had occcurred in her life.

When they'd first met in the book, she hadn't allowed herself to think of Tasuki as more than her guardian- someone whose mission was to look out for her and carry out her wishes with no questions asked. As time had passed they'd become much closer... so close that she had thought of him as family. She'd assumed he thought of her as a sister, and that was the way he'd always treated her until that fateful night at the Inn.

Her eyes had been opened in so many ways after that. Granted, Tasuki had been under a spell, but after Hikou had captured her and explained how the spell worked, she had begun to suspect the bandit's actions had been based on deeper feelings for her than friendship. Despite that suspicion, she had gone right back to treating Tasuki as a beloved brother. It had been simpler and safer for both of them to leave things that way. Never, ever had she thought she'd be experiencing those feelings from a different perspective.

Dante shared Tasuki's red hair, impressive physique, amber eyes, fanged grin and the happy arrogance that had always made her smile. He had Tasuki's straightforward manner and gallantry. For all intents and purposes he was the embodiment of Tasuki...a very adult embodiment, to be sure. But Dante was his own person, too. As she got to know him better there were going to be differences, other than the obvious ones of background and nationality, that would crop up. She knew that because it had happened to her with Tamahome and Taka. Dante deserved to be appreciated on his own merits, not just for what he had been to her in the past. She would do well to remember that...although she couldn't help wondering what had become of her beloved bandit, and why it was that Dante had been able to come into her life.

"Miaka? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Just thinking."

Dante smiled. "Daydreamin' again, huh? That always gets ya into trouble."

His thumb was caressing the back of her wrist, and she was sure he could feel her pulse banging against his fingers. As he began to pull her towards him, her gaze dropped to his mouth, then was quickly diverted to the open doorway behind him as a billow of smoke drifted out and a familiar, acrid smell assaulted her nose. Turning her head, she began to sniff experimentally at the air. Yes, something was burning all right. "Um…do you happen to have something cooking on your stove, Dante?"

Her companion blinked as if snapping out of a trance, and visibly tensed as the pungent aroma of charred tenderloin stung his nostrils. Without a word, he turned and rushed inside, running towards the back of his house.

Miaka hesitated only a brief instant before following. After removing her shoes and making sure the door was securely closed behind her, she hurried along the path he'd taken and found herself standing in a pleasingly large, sunlight-splashed kitchen. The sight that next met her eyes had her biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. Dante stood at the sink, frying pan in hand, letting the rushing water from the tap douse smoking, blackened chunks of meat. Luckily for him, the water also drowned out his muttered curses. Glancing over his shoulder he gave her an embarrassed grin.

"I thought I turned the burner down to simmer when I left to answer the door, but I guess I didn't." He shrugged helplessly. "I was going to ask ya to stay for supper, but since I've managed to ruin it…"

"I'd love to!" She said promptly, as she moved further into the room. "But only if you will let me prepare it for you."

He grumbled a bit, and then shut off the water with a decisive flick of his hand. "All right, but I want to state for the record that I really can cook!"

"I believe you." She gave him a bright smile as she took the ruined frying pan out of his other hand and gave him his hat. "I'll take care of this- and you need to go and change the batteries in your smoke alarms! They should have gone off!"

"Yes ma'am." He said dutifully, then went to do as she suggested.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

When Dante returned from his assigned task, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and dropped into it. By the look of things, Miaka had everything under control; she'd already disposed of the burnt offering in the pan and washed it, and was now busy gathering supplies. His eyes followed her with ever-increasing masculine interest. There's definitely something very sexy about watching her cook for me, he thought idly. The rest of him agreed, judging by the way his body stirred to life as his guest got something out of the refrigerator and he got a perfect view of her cute little ass.

"Thanks for returning my hat," He finally said, hoping conversation would banish the wild impulse he had to taste Miaka the way she was tasting the salad dressing she had just whipped up.

She glanced at him quickly before picking up a pairing knife and starting to slice the cucumber she had just gotten from the refrigerator. "You're welcome." The knife paused in mid chop. "Um…I know it was terribly forward and rude to show up unannounced, but I…. well, to be honest, I really did just want to see you."

The chopping resumed. Miaka kept her eyes on her hands, but seemed quite unaware of the unnecessary force she was using to hack the ill-fated cucumber into oblivion. Dante grinned at her flustered expression. Leaning his arms on the table, he rested his chin in one hand and regarded her with laughing eyes. "That's good, because I wanted to see you! I had plans for turnin' up on your doorstep tonight with two hot fudge sundaes and a video!"

"I would have liked that very much." Her warm smile confirmed her pleasure at the thought, though she shyly avoided eye contact.

"Why a chef?" Dante asked suddenly.

Miaka looked up, startled at the change in topic. "Excuse me?"

"I was just wonderin' why you would want to become a chef?" He clarified, giving her a cheeky grin. "My sisters all hate to cook, so that's why I learned."

Miaka laughed. "I'll tell you, but only if you tell me why you decided to become a cop first!" She teased, and then immediately kicked herself for sounding flippant as she saw her host's smile slowly disappear. "I'm sorry, I was just joking. You don't have to-"

"It's all right. I'm glad you wanna know." Dante assured her somberly. "My dad was a cop in Atlanta and he was killed in a shootout when I was a little kid. Most of my friends and family think I became a cop to avenge my father, but I really did it to honor his memory." He looked away, but not before Miaka had caught a glimpse of the moisture in his eyes. "Dad really believed that it was his destiny to serve and protect, and that's why he did what he did …he always made sure that he gave his all and he loved being a cop. I guess that attitude rubbed off on me as well, because I feel exactly the same way."

She put down the knife, and then went to slip her hand into Dante's, giving it a tender squeeze as her eyes conveyed her deep sympathy. "I'm so sorry about your father. He sounds like a wonderful man. I'm sure he's watching over you…and is very, very proud of what you do."

Dante had averted his gaze, but returned the squeeze before releasing her hand. "Thanks. Hearing that means a lot." When he looked up, Miaka was amazed to see that his expression had brightened. "I've answered your question, so now it's your turn!" He said cheerfully. "C'mon, 'fess up- what made Miaka Yuuki want to become a chef?"

"Well, mainly because I love to eat…" she began, then paused as Dante chuckled in remembrance of the huge lunch he had watched her consume. "I was also getting tired of making myself and other people deathly ill with my horrible cooking!"

She waited patiently for his laughter to subside before continuing.

"Anyway…when I started high school, I signed up right away for some gourmet cooking classes. My friends and family thought I was a hopeless cause and that they would be goners…." she rolled her eyes and he laughed again, "but much to their surprise, and mine, I stopped burning things and actually got the hang of what I was supposed to be doing. Not soon after that, I realized that I enjoyed gourmet food preparation, and actually had a strong desire to excel at it, so I took and aced every cooking class offered at Yotsubadai. By the time I graduated from there I had applied to and had been accepted at Tokyo's top culinary school. I graduated with honors, then got a job in the kitchens of one of Tokyo's best Chinese restaurants. I had worked myself all the way up to assistant chef before I moved here. I have no regrets, though, since it was a dream of mine to study in America."

"I thought your boyfriend was the reason you wanted t' move here," Dante remarked.

Miaka lowered her gaze to the tomato she was slicing, feeling his watchful gaze boring into her as she avoided giving him a direct answer. "Actually, it was both. Like I said, I'd always wanted to study in America, and when I found a position in Colorado Springs, I grabbed it. It 's a demotion from the responsibilities I had at He-Yan Gardens, but the pay is good, and I'm learning more about American cuisine than I ever could in Tokyo. And, I have the opportunity to work my way up again to chef-in-charge...so I don't mind paying my dues."

"That's impressive." Dante responded sincerely. "Um…but what the heck is a sous-chef?"

A sideways glance told her he was embarrassed to have had to ask. Miaka grinned. "Actually, it's just a fancy title given to the person that prepares all the ingredients and garnishes for the head chef's recipes before they are taken to the clientele. It's not very glamorous saying I de-bone chickens, make sauces, and chop vegetables for a living, but I had to start some-" Her voice broke off abruptly as the knife she was wielding slipped sideways. Before she could react, it had sliced into the tender flesh of her forefinger. She let out a small cry of pain.

Dante was at her side in a flash. He winced and went pale at the sight of the steady stream of blood trickling down the side of her finger, but his voice was strong and steady. "Don't worry, I'm sure it looks worse than it is." He assured her, after a quick examination of the wound. "It doesn't look deep."

"I hope you're right," she whispered unsteadily. "My hands and fingers are my livelihood."

"Then I'll tell ya somethin' that not too many people know." He flashed her a mischievous smile. "I'm always right!"

She couldn't help laughing at the cheerful arrogance in his voice. Dante's unflagging optimism, and his teasing despite the deep concern that shone in his eyes were definitely inherited traits…but thinking of Tasuki caused her amusement to quickly fade away. An inexplicable urge to cry welled up within her, as she wondered what could have happened to the bandit seishi that enabled Dante to be with her now. As her eyes filled, she quickly averted her gaze. Dante was trying so hard to cheer her up, and she didn't want him to see the tears of pain that had nothing to do with her injured finger, but everything to do with the ache in her heart.

Without another word her host tucked her arm securely under his, and then guided her to the double wide sink. There he adjusted the faucet to cold before turning on the tap, then placed her injured finger directly underneath the cascade of water to wash it free of blood. Miaka sucked in a breath and closed her eyes against its icy sting. After a couple of minutes, Dante turned off the faucet and raised the injured hand to inspect the wound, and quickly pronounced it a fairly shallow cut. The satisfaction in his voice gave her the courage to open her eyes and examine the injury on her own.

"Thank goodness!" She breathed as she stared down at the thin line of blood that was slowly emerging from her skin. "I couldn't imagine trying to chop up anything at work with stitches in my finger."

"No problem there. A little hydrogen peroxide and a band-aid will fix ya right up." Dante responded huskily. Now that the crisis was over, he was suddenly very conscious of the light floral perfume she wore, and of the warmth of her breath caressing their joined hands on each exhalation. Focusing on the graceful fingers curled within his palm, he tried his best to ignore the desire that was pooling low in his belly. "C'mon, I keep all the stuff you need in the bathroom."

Miaka nodded agreement, then allowed herself to be led out of the room, her hand still cradled in his.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

After they had exited the kitchen, Miaka found herself walking down a hallway, the walls of which held a number of framed photographs. She barely got a glimpse of them, however, as Dante quickly pulled her into a huge bathroom.

Her eyes opened wide as she admired her surroundings. The late afternoon sunlight streamed in from a skylight, washing the terra cotta floor and adobe wall tiles in a warm burnish of bronze and gold. A long counter ran along one wall, containing an assortment of Aloe Vera plants, two sinks and a vanity, above which hung an a open shelved wooden cupboard full of fluffy towels and assorted toiletries. A toilet was tucked away behind a half wall of glass blocks in one corner, along with a enclosed shower. Opposite them, a four person oval Jacuzzi sat beneath a copper and bronze wall fountain sculpted to resemble a fan.

"It's an oasis!" She breathed, eyes shining. "It's the most beautiful bathroom I've ever seen!"

"Thank you," He replied, charmed by her enthusiasm.

As Dante released her hand and went to retrieve the first aid items from a nearby cupboard, Miaka turned to watch him, fascinated by the rolling of his hips as he walked, and the smooth rippling motion of his shoulders when he reached for an item. She averted her gaze when he turned towards her, watching his long fingered, strong-looking hands as they set a bottle of peroxide, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a box of band aids down on the counter beside her. He went to get the chair from the vanity and then sat down, beckoning her to come closer.

Miaka extended her hand and stared at the top of her host's fiery head as he cleaned her wound, feeling her skin tingle wherever he happened to touch her. She was growing warmer and warmer, and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. From the very moment she had met him, he had had this effect on her; the possible consequences both worried and thrilled her.

"All done, and I think you're going to live!" Dante joked, as he smoothed the ends of the band-aid into place. He lifted his head to smile at her. As their eyes met and held, his smile faded and his grasp on her hand tightened.

"Don't look at me like that, dammit." He told her throatily.

Her hand lifted to brush a strand of hair away from his eye as she breathed in the arousing scent of his body. "How am I looking at you?"

His gaze was warm, steady...and very, very serious. "Like ya want me as bad as I want you."

Miaka slowly tipped her head forward and her hair spilled over her shoulders, forming a silken curtain around her face. Dante's eyes darkened as the tips of the soft strands brushed his cheeks. Slowly, he let go of her hand and then snaked his arms around her waist.

"Is our wanting each other such a bad thing?" She asked, lightly fingering the flame colored braid that had strayed over his right shoulder.

"Not bad-just kinda dangerous." He replied somberly. "My conscience is thinkin' that it's way too damn soon for that step, even if we're ready to take it." He gave her waist a squeeze and smiled up at her. "Tellin' myself 'not yet' ain't easy ... but I can do it because it would kill me if I ever did anythin' to make ya sad! I don't wanna rush things…"

His arms loosened, and his hands gripped the sides of her waist in order to push her away…or to pull her against him, if that was what she desired.

Miaka stared down at him, her heart pounding with excitement as she wondered if this was the time to tell him that she had indeed had a very personal connection with him in his previous life. But what would that accomplish at this point except to make the situation even more complicated than it was?

Even so, it was with great regret that she backed out of Dante's embrace.

"I'll see you back in the kitchen, okay?" She announced, in as chipper a tone as she could manage. "If I don't get going on supper, we won't be eating until midnight!"

She had turned and was halfway to the door when she heard a muttered curse. A hand encircled her wrist and halted her progress. She barely had time to gasp before she was spun around and pulled against a hard and unyielding body in one fluid motion.

In the next moment, Dante's mouth came crashing down on hers. Helpless to resist the onslaught, her lips quickly parted and his tongue thrust into her mouth with a determined desperation that had her moaning and clutching his arms to maintain balance on her wobbly legs. Strong hands began to move over her back, shaping and molding her as she clasped her arms around his neck. In an instant the flames of desire had been ignited, and she wholeheartedly gave herself up to Dante's kiss, welcoming his tongue with her own as it delved even more deeply into her mouth. The pleasure of it was almost more than she could endure...and all they were doing was kissing!

As in reply to the thought, she felt a hard burgeoning at the front of Dante's cutoffs; instinctively, she pushed her pelvis against it, all the while basking in the knowledge that she was the cause and focus of that reaction. His hips thrust forward in response and his restless hands roamed from her back to her sides, where they paused, letting the warmth of his palms soak through her t-shirt. Then they began to stroke along the length of her rib cage, his thumbs stopping just short of touching the undersides of her breasts.

She wiggled impatiently, and then gasped as a muscular thigh slipped between hers and pressed steadily against the apex of her legs. Intense sensation arrowed through her, bringing with it the need to touch bare flesh. Unwinding one arm from around Dante's neck, she ran her hand over his chest and down to the exposed part of his stomach.

A first tentative touch told her that his skin was sleek and warm; the next made the lingering discovery that the muscles lying beneath it were ripped and forceful. Dante inhaled sharply as his abdominals quivered and flexed under her fingers' shy exploration; his hands stilled, then tightened their hold on her sides as her caresses became more provocative.

When the pad of her thumb slowly circled his navel, his control finally snapped. A low, hungry growl emitted from the depths of his throat; his mouth widened and ground down on hers while one large hand lifted to cup her breast. Miaka moaned, delighting in the surge of new sensations that his hand was invoking. Though her knees felt like gelatin, somehow she found the strength to stay upright as her own hand slid down to his lower torso...

_________________________________________________________________ _______

As questing fingers reached the area just above his erection, Dante tensed. He had thought that he could keep his passion in check, but he had failed to take into account that Miaka might touch him intimately, and that when she did, it would push him straight to the edge. It was now or never. If he allowed her hand to reach its intended target, he'd end up taking her on a cold, hard bathroom floor- not a setting he'd care for her to remember when thinking of their first time together.

With a superhuman effort, he dragged his mouth away from the intoxicating sweetness of hers; drawing in deep, gasping breaths, he reached for her wandering hand and unwrapped her arm from around his neck. Her whimpers of protest faded as he grasped both of her hands in his and then lifted each to his lips, pressing warm, soothing kisses into their backs, palms, and on the tips of each finger in turn.

"Ya better haul that cute lil' tush outta here before I forget how to be a gentleman." He murmured, his breath coming in hot, heavy pants against her fingers. Hunger shone in his eyes, along with a warning glint that said this was not a time for her to argue with him. With a small nod, Miaka slowly pulled her hands from his. After a final, lingering look back at him over one shoulder, she turned and left the room.

When he was sure Miaka wasn't going to return, Dante moved to the nearest sink, turned on the cold water, and splashed liberal handfuls from the flow upon the flaming skin of his face and throat.

Once he felt he had cooled down sufficiently, he reached for a towel. After drying his face, he stared hard at his reflection in the large mirror that ran almost the entire length of one wall. "Ya gotta try to keep it in your pants, no matter how hard it is," he said to himself, grimacing at the hardened state of his gender. "It's best until she decides whether it's you or him. No regrets; just keep actin' like the gentleman your Mama raised ya to be, and everything will turn out fine."

The flame-haired image nodded approvingly, but looked just as unconvinced as he felt.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Miaka sat back and drank in Dante's features over the rim of her wineglass as he regaled her with stories about his childhood, his family, and the events leading to his move to Colorado Springs.

His noticeable surprise and pleasure at her eagerness to hear his life story had made her wonder if his old girlfriend Sandra had ever bothered to get to know him at all. Therefore, she had made a point of hanging on his every word at dinner and afterwards- not that it had been a difficult task. She enjoyed watching him and listening to the sound of his voice, which was just as expressive and sexy as the rest of him.

They had decided to eat at the oak plank table in the kitchen. Dante had dug up two mismatched tapered candles and they had stuck them in a couple of old wine bottles. Even though the sun was just beginning to set, he had lit them. Then he had laughed as he had brought out his dishes, telling Miaka that the orange and lime colored stoneware set had been hand thrown, painted and baked by one of his sisters, an amateur artist going through a '70's retro phase'. She had laughed along with him, but secretly thought it was very sweet that Dante actually used the garish, slightly misshapen plates, especially when his sister had no way of knowing if he didn't.

The kitchen itself was a dream. Large and airy with plenty of cupboard space, it had a look reminiscent of the old southwest, complete with a wooden beamed, vaulted ceiling, and beautifully tiled counters. If the décor a person chose for a certain room was an true indicator of their personality, then Miaka would have immediately guessed Dante to be a hospitable and easy-going person.

She smiled at him as she set down her glass. "So tell me more about your mother. She must be quite a woman to raise six children all on her own."

Dante nodded. "She sure is, but she wasn't entirely on her own all that time. About three years after my dad died, she met Gabe. To hear her talk about it, it was love at first sight. Gabe's a great guy. He makes my mom happy, and he loved us like we were his own kids…which was pretty remarkable considerin' some of the shit we put him through."

"It sounds like you have a close family. You must miss them."

"Yeah, but we all get together at least once a year. Mom and Gabe are retired now and bought one of those huge RVs. The whole family comes up here for a reunion week. There's usually a big barbeque the last day they're here."

"Oh that sounds wonderful! " Miaka exclaimed. "Keisuke and I used to have fun going to the park near my school for picnics! Even after he was at university we'd get together there at least once a month, no matter what time of the year it was!"

"Who's Keisuke?"

Miaka's startled gaze jerked to Dante's face, wondering what on earth she had said to bring on the coolness in his voice. She quickly found her answer in his narrowed gaze. His expression remained bland, but the tumult of emotion burning in the depths of his eyes gave him away. "He's my older brother," she responded, while trying to hide the pleasure she felt that he cared enough to be jealous.

He gave her a look that sped up her pulse even more. "That's good. Any other siblings?"

"Uh-uh- just Keisuke and me. My parents split up when I was four and Mom never remarried."

"I'm sorry t' hear that." His eyes softened with compassion. "Divorce can be pretty tough on the kids."

She sighed. "Yes, it was kind of tough having a single mom at times, but things turned out just fine. I would have liked to have had a sister to talk to though- it must be wonderful to have a big, loving family like yours."

"Yeah…it's nice, but it has its drawbacks too." Dante replied wryly. "A total lack of privacy for one! Imagine me trying to get some quality bathroom time in a household of teenage women! After going through that, trainin' to become a cop seemed like a picnic!"

Miaka laughed heartily. "Yes, I can imagine that must have been kind of scary."

"Scary? It was a damn war zone!" Dante leaned forward to pick up his glass of wine and took a deep swallow. "The way Ma tells it, I'm lucky I even made it to sixteen!"

Still giggling, Miaka reached for her glass, but her hand froze in midair as she noticed a bright flash of crimson from Dante's forearm as he lifted the glass to his lips once more. Her mouth fell open as she spotted the brilliantly colored mark in the same location that Tasuki's seishi symbol had been.

Quickly regaining her composure, she asked him with forced calm, "Is that a tattoo you have on your arm?"

Dante glanced down in surprise. Then, after setting his glass back on the table, he ran his fingers over the mark on his arm. "Yeah. I tend to forget it's there." He gave her a self-conscious smirk.

"Would you mind if I took a closer look?"

"Not at all." He held the arm out for her inspection.

Hardly daring to believe her eyes, Miaka pulled his arm to within an inch of her nose as she studied the intricate tattoo which she now saw was of a phoenix. The radiant red and orange hues of the bird and the long shimmering tail reminded her strongly of the god Suzaku in his animal form. Enthralled, she traced over the design with a forefinger, oblivious to the shiver of pleasure that passed through Dante in response to the soft caress.

"This is exquisite workmanship!" She stated, trying hard to sound as though her heart wasn't pounding with excitement.

Dante leaned closer and studied the tattoo, trying to see what he usually took for granted from her point of view. "It's not too shabby as tattoos go, I guess," he agreed modestly.

"The colors are so vivid! " She marveled. "It almost looks like it's alive!"

"Yeah, that's kind of a weird thing about it." He said. "I was told that tattoos usually start to fade over time but this one's stayed as bright as it was when my bandage first came off. I know this probably sounds bizarre, but sometimes it gets even brighter to the point where it's almost like it's glowing. It's probably just my imagination though, huh?"

Though Dante's smile was self-conscious, Miaka couldn't see any awareness of his past life in his expression.

"I don't think it's your imagination. " She replied softly. "I noticed just a minute ago that it seemed to flash at me, and look…it's getting even brighter now!"

She traced the outline of the tattoo with a finger, and sure enough, the bird's colors appeared to intensify.

"Wow…" Dante breathed. "How did you do that?"

"It's magic." She teased. "So tell me… why did you choose a phoenix of all things?"

He shrugged. "I've always been fascinated with Mythology and the phoenix is one of my favorite legends. I like that it's a survivor- that no matter how many times it gets burnt by life, it always rises again with renewed hope and courage."

Just like you did, dear one. Miaka thought tenderly. "Did it hurt much?" She asked, as she reluctantly released his arm.

"Nah, not really- hell, what am I sayin'?" Dante rubbed a hand over the tattoo and gave a rueful laugh. "It hurt like the devil! At first anyway- after a while I think the nerves overloaded with the pain or somethin', because my arm went numb and I didn't feel the stick of the needles as much."

"Why did you want it on your arm?" She asked, in a carefully neutral tone.

"Because it made it easier for me to flaunt it in front of Ma." He grinned. "I was a seriously rebellious seventeen year old, and had the idea that gettin' a tattoo without permission would prove to Ma that I was independent of her. A friend of mine helped me snag a fake ID and then I headed straight for the nearest tattoo parlor!"

Miaka smirked. "I don't suppose you gave a thought to it being permanent?"

"Nope!" His answering grin was unrepentant. "As usual, I acted rashly…and I gotta admit that particular trait hasn't mellowed with age." His grin turned sultry as he added, "Which is good, 'cause today it's led me to a real sweet and beautiful thing!"

"What's that?" She asked, looking puzzled.

"Think about it - you'll figure it out!"

He waited patiently as she thought about it, and grinned broadly when he saw her lips part in an 'o' of comprehension. "You've figured it out?"

Her answer was to blush furiously and change the subject- much to his amusement. "Um...it's getting kind of late…I suppose I should start cleaning up. " Rising quickly, she began stacking their plates and then turned toward the kitchen sink.

"Hold it right there, Miss Yuuki!" Her companion commanded. "You did the cookin', so it's only fair that I do the cleanin'- hey! Are you even listenin' to me?"

"Nope! " She snickered at his look of aggravation, then sucked a harsh breath as the plates suddenly shifted, putting direct pressure on her injured finger.

"Miaka! Put those damn dishes down before ya get hurt!"

Dante had leapt to his feet and followed her, closing the distance between them in record time. Unfortunately, she chose that moment to turn back to him, and their bodies collided with a sickening smack and clatter of stoneware. He instinctively grabbed her arms to keep her from falling, and then watched in horror as the plates she held tilted back into her body and their leftover contents splattered onto her chest.

Miaka gasped, quickly righted the tipped plates, and then stared down at the gravy, mashed potatoes, salad dressing and leftover roast beef au jus that had been plastered down the front of her favorite T-shirt.

"Oh dear..." Slowly, she raised her embarrassed gaze to her host.

"Criminy, what a mess!" Dante's voice shook with suppressed laughter as he took quick glances from her expression to her food laden chest, and then back again. "I'm really sorry about that."

Miaka's eyes narrowed as he gave her an unrepentant grin.

"You don't look sorry." She sniffed. "If I wasn't a lady and a guest in your home, I do believe I'd mash what's left on these plates all over your chest! Then we'd see sorry!"

His grin widened. "Huh. Like to see ya try." Grabbing the plates out of her hands, he carried the stack over to the sink before she could make good on her threat, snagging a hand towel that was lying on the counter next to it on his return trip.

"Here, use this to wipe off as much of the gunk off as you can. I'm going to go find somethin' for you to wear so I can throw your t-shirt in the washer."

"Thank you." She took the towel and made a face as the movement of her arm caused more food to slide off her breasts and onto the floor.

"I think I'm gettin' a yen for seconds," Dante said, eyeing her chest with a smirk.

"Not funny, Tager!"

He turned, beating a hasty retreat as she scraped up a handful of mashed potatoes that still clung to her and aimed for his back.

"Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta kiss me!" He crowed, as the food went wide of its mark.

"AS IF!" Miaka called after him, then grinned as a gleeful chortle drifted in from the hallway. Really, the man was outrageous! She couldn't ever picture Taka indulging in this sort of horseplay! Well...maybe when they'd first found each other, but certainly no longer...

No dwelling on the past. Just enjoy the present.

She set to work, using the towel to mop up the food she'd thrown. Folding it over, she then tried to wipe away the rest of the mess on her shirt, but to her annoyance, her attempts only served to smear the stain rather than remove it. In the short time it took her host to return to the kitchen with a velour robe draped over his arm, she had given up.

Dante eyed the stain, which had doubled in size, chuckled quietly, and then held the robe out to her as a peace offering when she glared at him.

"It's gonna to be way too big for ya, but it'll have to do."

"It's fine. I can always roll up the sleeves." She replied happily. She didn't care one whit what she'd look like in his robe. All she wanted right now was to get out of her sticky, very sodden t-shirt and dampened bra.

"You know where the bathroom is, or ya can even change in my room if ya want- it's the door at the very end of the hall." Dante continued, as she snatched the robe from his outstretched hand. "And make sure to holler if you need any help peelin' that thing off of ya." The mischief dancing in his eyes belied the seriousness in his voice.

"I think I can manage," she informed him in snide tones, "but I do appreciate your very kind offer"

"Helpful is my middle name, ma'am!" He informed her with an innocent look. "Comes with being a public servant- it's my sworn duty to help the unfortunate whenever I can!"

"That's going above and beyond duty!" Miaka retorted, flinging the words over her shoulder. As her host's uninhibited laugh followed her out of the kitchen, she broke into a grin, thinking how good hearing that sound made her feel inside.

Once in the hallway, her amusement disappeared as she eyed the closed door at the end of the hall. After the slightest of hesitations, she set a direct course for the bathroom. As curious as she might be to see what Dante's bedroom was like, she knew undressing in it would bring on temptation far too great for her to withstand.

To be continued….

All Reviewers will be given the chapeau of their choice and a place of honor at the Phoenix Imperial banquet.