Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Internal Affairs ❯ Monday Emails Never Solved Anything ( Chapter 8 )

Twish's Note: CHAPTER EIGHT!!! And no, its still not finished... I have a dozen other scenarios in mind for the poor, belaguered unfortunate lovers yet. So hang on, dear people, lovely, lovely readers (for both AFF and Mediaminer), lovely and sweet friends, The Shinobi Group, and great reviewers (you all know who you are!!!!!)... I'm so excited about this update... I think so far its rather dramatic, and the best read yet (or so one of my friends who test it out for me says... )

I love fan fiction!

Please, Please, Please, be of age, this is rather on the steamy side towards the end and if you let your mothers read the language they may be tempted to wash your pc's out...

PS. If there is a similarity with other fanfictions, i deeply apologize, I found my first flame (if it was one) in my email a week ago saying that I plagiarized off someone else's. Believe me, it was never intended. Besides, just how many times can one reinvent sexual scenarios? Obviously something will be rather similar... Anyway enough arguing, lets just read and enjoy all different forms of fan fiction!

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all characters are never to be mine, and i will be cursed into an anime and manga-less hell if i do... eeek!

Internal Affairs

Chapter 8 - Monday Emails Never Solved Anything

It's ten o'clock. Where in shitty hell is she?!!!

Aoshi's tumultuous inner thoughts were hidden beneath his icy glare. Oh sure, he was snapping at everyone in his frightening cold way, but surely it had nothing to do with the volatile situation that he was caught on the weekend by his business partner and cousin fucking his secretary's brains out.

Ha, and monkeys fly out of Kenshin's tight ass with bananas in their hand.

Kenshin was persona non grata in his inner sanctum that day.

He rued the day he introduced him to his cousin. Who the hell did he think he was, going to his home uninvited and springing spectacularly disastrous information on him that acted better as a killer than a bullet shot straight at his heart?!!!

Apparently, a lonely Sunday's night did nothing for the mood except make very vivid descriptions and phrases to curse one's self with. No tea, green, red, black or otherwise could keep him from rolling the fact that Misao was untouchable. Especially to him. Damn business and the politics involved!

Damn, damn, fucking hell DAMN!!!

He hadn't noticed his sturdy tea cup that Kaoru made for him in her pottery class during her college days had shattered in his hand, blood dripping from his immaculate hands staining documents that he worked his ass out for during his five, no, FOUR day business trip.

"Mr. Shinomori, are you feeling alright?" A female voice broke his reverie.

Determined steel cold eyes looked up at a busty brunette. His left eyebrow quirked in irritation and question at her invading presence.

"Ms. Omasu. What fascinating news from the HR department have you come to bring me?" Aoshi asked, voice lowering the temperature significantly and dripping icicles around the atmosphere.

He feared the worst. Somehow, somewhere, this had something to do with Misao.

Omasu shivered and took three steps back. She had never seen Mr. Shinomori like this. Previous fantasies about him taking an interest in her dissolved as she observed his blue eyes watching her every move she made with cutting intensity. Although he was quite the business shark with other he was always unflaggingly polite with everyone. Unless they did something that merited heights of stupidity and incompetence. Then whoever the unfortunate miscreant was would be asked quietly to pack their things and leave with security escort. But that happened only to his secretaries. Am I about to lose my job?! What the heck did I do?!

Mustering up her courage, she crossed the path to his imposing chrome and glass desk and laid a piece of paper on his desk.

"Ah, your hand…" She began.

"Out with it and make it short." Came the acerbic reply, his voice bordering on icy rage.

Omasu's hand flew to her throat and after clearing her throat, she began promptly. "Apparently, Ms. Makimachi decided to resign for personal 'unresolved' reasons and take two weeks notice in absentia until her resignation date. I only received the missive ten minutes ago as I checked my email. I thought I would inform you first before I file a copy for reference."

She took a deep breath and retreated to her former position, cringing a little. Misao, was, well, a little too cheerful, but it was too bad that she was going to be a statistic, one among the many secretaries that could not handle the pressure of the professional Ice Block.

"Aa. Thank you. You may leave." Omasu immediately turned tail and fled, with Aoshi's eyes never leaving her hasty retreating form before daring to look at the demandingly pristine piece of paper left on his day timer.

He scanned it, then crumpled the offending piece of shit in his hand.

He still never noticed that his hand was still bleeding freely.

-o-

One week, 2 days later.

Misao was a mess. It was a stark contrast to see her disheveled form sitting deathly quiet, catatonic like on a neat, crisp sofa in her living room. She had not eaten much, making her already slender frame even more fragile looking than it was. Unanswered messages from a worried Kaoru and her Jiya sat on her answering machine, the last one blinking a furious red as it was from Kaoru saying she would break down her door and shake her silly if she didn't update her on what was happening soon.

Nothing helped, not her dildo, not her kunai hobbies, not even her little independent cat that had been a gift from Beshimi, her grandfather's right hand man, which took up permanent residence at her ankles. Her movements were slow and robotic, doing only the bare minimum functions of living. All the life had been sucked out of her and she did nothing much but cry silently, all her sobs dying away and leaving tears behind.

This was how genki girls got depressed.

Why?! Why did I listen to Kaoru the Pregnant Psycho and send him a childish, cowardly resignation email via another department just to see if it would get a rise out of HIM? Not to mention, give her my phone number?!! I should have known Aoshi would never come after the likes of me. Liar extraordinaire, rich little girl slut on call daring to touch the flames. Shame on you, Misao, for being such a horny midget bitch that never thinks about the consequences.

A fucking email, for heaven's sake!!!!

He was a good fuck, though. Too bad he took my heart along with my pussy.

Misao smiled almost insanely at her last thought, her face a macabre vision of tear streaks, unbrushed hair strands and upturned mouth corners.

Softly, her cat mewed in distress at her mistress' unmoving feet.

-o-

Running, stumbling down to a dark hallway that opened to chasms down below…

Her pounding feet echoed itself in a million different ways, falling down exactly when a male voice yelled… "MISAO!!!!! MIII----"

Misao awoke with a start in the middle of the night, realizing she had fallen asleep in the same position she was in earlier that afternoon. She also discovered that the pounding noise was no dream, it was real; it was someone pounding the hell out of the door of her flat, accompanied by a deep, familiar voice yelling her name loud enough for several countries to hear.

Should she dare to hope…

She flew to the door, her body reacting oppositely to what her brain was screeching to her better senses and yanked it open, not caring that all she had on was an old, short, flimsy robe ready to fall apart at the seams.

Seconds, minutes passed as they stared at each other, Aoshi leaning heavily on her doorframe heaving alcohol smelling breaths as though he had run a marathon drunk and Misao frozen at her spot on the opposite side of the door, at a loss for words.

Watching unnoticed and ignored was the next door neighbor who watched in fascination as long as she can instead of complaining, as she was about to do. It would be really juicy gossip with the other unit neighbors for the next morning and she was privy to it!

Aoshi, just as uncharacteristically as he had banged on her door, broke the silence first. "How dare you…" He sneered in rage, and Misao took a few steps back in terror. This was not at all how she envisioned their reunion at all! Even the neigbor jumped in surprise at the malice his voice carried.

"How dare you leave me alone with a fucking email to explain things!!!" He shouted, each word laced with a very strong scent of alcohol. As he said this, he noticed the unwanted audience so he strode past Misao inside to the flat and slammed the door closed. Misao stood rooted to her spot even as he turned to face her.

"Hnh-how---how did you find muh-mm--me?" She stuttered, hating herself as she did so, at the same time getting extremely aroused against her very will at the one of the darkest sides of Aoshi, once again another side she had never seen. How many sides of him are there? Will I ever see all of them…

Aoshi's eyes, darkened by passion, rage, drinking himself drunk for a week and God knows what else, laughed sarcastically. "That's a stupid question, Misao-BABY," he said, stressing the word. "Don't you know by now I always get what I want?"

"Ah, eh, well, maybe there's a better time and place for this, you're a little drunk, and I think you should leave…" Misao's voice trailed away as she backed herself up some more and felt the brick wall that divided the foyer from the rest of the room. Her mind shut down. Shit, shit SHIT!!!

Aoshi smiled a feral and frightening smile at her.

"Drunk?! DRUNK?! You think this is drunk?! You haven't seen out of their minds insanely angry DRUNK yet, BABY!!!"

Misao sank to her knees silently as they gave way. "Please, Aoshi, please, leave. Let's talk tomorrow…" she whispered brokenly, knowing that he wouldn't, that he couldn't. He was beyond reason.

"Really? Is that what you want, oh bitch of mine???" He said as he advanced to where she was trapped, his sharp blue eyes trained on her frightened yet excited aqua ones.

Misao remained silent as unbidden tears fell from her face, the same time she felt a betraying heat pool low in her belly. DRAT!!!

Aoshi closed the gap between them and hoisted her up painfully as he crushed her lips brutally to his, salt from her tears and the taste of Russian Vodka mixing a heady taste for both of them. His hand sought under her very roughly, past the robe, past her underwear, and found her cunt warm and slick and throbbing, as though in response to his erection that appeared at the ready as soon as he saw her at the door.

The inner Aoshi sighed a breath of relief. She still wants me! There is still hope for us!

Then another sobering thought. I can't hurt her.

Shit. What am I supposed to do now?

As suddenly as he had stormed inside her place, seeking revenge for the painful days that she cost him the past week, his anger was replaced by hurt. A hurt that was so encompassing in guilt, for he nearly took her by force. If she wasn't warm and wet that way, he wouldn't have known what he would have done next. How much torture did he have to take, anyway? Didn't she know that after two days, he started drinking vodka every night instead of tea just to get him through to the next day? That he lacked sleep, and hallucinated about her so much that it was always a near call of saving his sharp reputation every time somebody almost caught him unawares? Self Control, his preferred drug of choice, was no longer available nor palatable for him. It was now HER.

Slowly, he broke their lips apart and drew her down his body gently, a stark contrast to his earlier slamming. Then he put his forehead against hers in mute apology as he whispered, with eyes closed and his voice nearly silent with emotion, "Don't you ever, ever leave me again that way."

Misao felt, rather than saw, his change of mood. Tear after tear fell from her eyes, dampening the front of her robe as she could only hiccup in response. She raised her hand between his neck and shoulder, and pressed her body even closer to his as a sign that she understood.

Aoshi's tense muscles relaxed at her furtive movements, and hands that started out grabbing her roughly slowed down to rubbing her shoulders in an effort to calm her down.

"Shh… shhh… It's alright, no matter how pissed I am I will never force you to anything that you don't want to do again… You have to believe me... I'm so sorry…" his belated self-guilt diatribe was stopped short by Misao's finger against his lips.

"Is this… is this the part where we kiss and make up?" She asked with a small smile, still teary eyed and her voice still raspy from her crying.

Aoshi's shoulders shook as he chuckled in surprise. Here he was, thinking that she was crying because he nearly raped her, yet she was aleady over it! He loved how this woman's mind worked!

"Aa. But you have to tell me the way to the bedroom…"

***

Misao lay on her side, cradled protectively by the body and arms of the man she loved and remembered the past moments of one of the most unequaled bouts of sex that she ever had.

Aoshi laid her down gently, almost as if she was a piece of fragile glass. He drew her robe down, baring her to his eyes, with the utmost slowness, as she tried to remove his shirt without much success, because she suddenly became all thumbs. He laughed at that, and took every piece of clothing that he had with record speed that had her nearly laughing as well. He went back to kneel over her, and kissed, sweetly, devoured her mouth a little drunkenly, but to her, it was like coming home. There was no one else on earth who could have a myriad of different tastes yet be uniquely himself in each one. He sat on his haunches as she watched his hands rove over her with feather touches, a little pressure here and there, molding her to his eyes that followed his hands, and that had her immediately writhing and crying silently with repressed passion. His mouth also started following a path of their own, first licking at the tears that never seemed to stop coming out of her eyes. Then, the lips in question started moving down, and she pulsed in expectation. Even just that heightened her arousal, evidently. They made their way down to her neck, to top of her left breast. He nibbled in concentric circles, making sure that each bite was laved tenderly with his tongue to soothe the sting, not that it needed it. It was here where it lingered, making sure that each globe were well sucked, kissed and bitten, pulling at her nipples gently, knowing that this could make her arch back even more into his mouth, then nibbled their way down to her navel. There, hands that stroking and parting her inner thighs slowly found there way to her center, fingering maddeningly, making them wet and slick with her honey as she came and panted her way through on them, bucking her hips in response to the slow torture. But it was not the end yet, apparently because they wouldn't quit delving inside hidden folds, stretching, mimicking his tongue as it plunged in and out of her belly button. Then, both were completely stopped abruptly. She whimpered, not seeing anything anymore but just feeling, though the absence of feeling lasted only for a moment as her hips were brought up high and his warm tongue completely covered her and drew its way up, down, forward and backward, over and under in her slit. He would not stop even as the first lick forced cries out of her in pleasure, and kept on crying and screaming until finally, she felt a long shaft heavy inside her the same time that his lips covered in her dew met hers and made her taste herself, and plunged in and out erotically, synchronized with the rocking of their sweat drenched bodies. In and out, In and out. Thrust and pull, Arch and tighten. Nothing else existed. The whole world closed down until they were only a man, a woman, and a simple bedspread that witnessed one of the most indescribably highest climaxes and orgasms ever to be enacted.

Misao drew back to reality. She took the hands responsible for everything she felt that night and kissed them, noting that one was riddled with many scars. Where did he get that?, she wondered. She shook her head and started kissing each scar one by one and felt Aoshi smile in his sleep at the back of her head. She sighed. She really did love him. And she knew that he loved her too, although she knew, now was not the time to make him reveal it. Suffice to say that it was too much, too soon, even if he finally admitted that he could not bear being without her. A declaration was just too much to ask. Misao's mood took a slight downward turn as she tried thinking about when that would happen. But she just typically shook her thoughts that were encroaching on depressing and focused on a way she could repay him for the unbelievable way he made sure that she had her own pleasure first before his, again and again.

Sloiwly, she turned, their naked bodies touching, and pushed him lightly to his back. Aoshi simply grunted and complied easily, sleeping peacefully and his thoughts occupied by pleasant dreams for the first time since she left. He only grunted a little as she started kissing him over his chest... on his belly, until finally something slid him over carefully to the realm of consciousness.

That was why as dawn was breaking over the horizon, Aoshi opened his eyes up to one of his favorite Misao fantasies… a naked Misao bent over in a kneeling position with her ass in the air over his crotch while her mouth giving him a mind blowing blow job…

Aoshi was very, very happily awake.

-o-

Across the city, a well respected gentleman stood outside the Aoiya Mansion and was received for tea. His reason for calling? Misao Makimachi's hand in marriage.