Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Between You and Me ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Melvin Gurio(1)and Daniel Thater (pronounces date-er!) were in the hall talking when Serena emerged breathless, even more scattered than usual, patting down her hair.

Darien was right behind her, which made her blush when she realized there really wasn't any plausible reason for a doctor and a resident to be in a closed supply closet.

Both doctors looked up at her and she gave them a bright smile, hoping like hell no one would guess she'd just spent ten minutes getting felt up by Darien.

Daniel smiled back at Serena. “Hey, Serena, we're all going to Coconuts for a drink in about an hour. Join us?” At the last minute he seemed to realize there was someone standing behind her. “Oh, you too, Dr. Shields. The more the merrier.”

Serena noticed that everyone on the staff always referred to one another by first names, with the exception of Darien.

She was staring to suspect he didn't want anyone to know he had a first name. Even his ID badge clipped to his waistband said merely Dr. Shields. She knew. She'd looked.

Yet his name fit him. It was unusual, commanding. Erotic.

Or maybe that was just her hormones on overdrive again. But she suspected he used formality to maintain distance between himself and his colleagues, herself included fifteen minutes ago.

Now he wanted zero distance between them, clothing optional.

Which brought to mind a whole other unpalatable subject. Could she really bring herself to get naked in front of a man who by all rights should only exist in her fantasies?

Forget sex. One look at her and he'd be mentally composing an article for the AMA on the overabundance of fat in the America diet.

“No thanks. The storm this afternoon kicked up a few waves, so I'm going surfing,” Darien said. (Imagine Darien on a surfboard half-naked, surfing on the huge tidal wave...haha, you perves!)

She spun around in amazement. Surfing? Darien was a surfer? Not to mention that was the longest personal statement she'd ever heard him utter.

He was always all work, driven to perfection as a surgeon. He didn't engage in idle chitchat. Even his kisses weren't idle. They, too, were skilled, concentrated. Perfect.

“Oh, yeah,” Melvin said with a nod. “Those waves are a solid five feet. Have fun out there.”

Daniel said, “Well, how about you, Serena? I don't think you're going surfing, are you?” Relieved that no one seemed to notice the tension between her and Darien, she laughed at Melvin's question.

The most athletic thing she did was jump around in pain when she forgotten her aqua socks and the sand on the beach burned her sensitive feet. “No, no surfing for me. But I can't go to the bar anyway because I'm on call for ER.”

“Well maybe next time.” They waved and continued on down the hall.

Which left her standing in the hall staring at the floor; no clue what to say to Darien. He had pressed her for an answer in the supply room. She hadn't given him one.

She knew she wanted it. Hell, he knew she wanted it. But she still don't know if it was the right things to do. If she listened to her body and Darien's argument, she could ruin her career as a surgeon.

If word ever got out that they'd had an affair…well, it would be ugly, no matter what he'd said.

Yet it was damn tempting.

He spoke first. “You're quite the Miss Popularity, aren't you?”

“Excuse me?” There were about a million ways different interpretation to that statement, none of which were good.

He shrugged. “It's just that no matter what department we're in, everyone seems to know you,”

She darted an amazed look at him. He looked almost bitter, despite his casual stance. Was Darien feeling left out of the hospital social circuit?

But that made no sense. The man shot out don't-come-near-me vibes in a constant basis. Not exactly the way to build friendship.

He must just think of her as a charming little fluff who has flirted her way through, medical school.

Or slept, given what he was proposing. Suddenly anger replaced a good portion of her nervousness. She was an intelligent woman, not a brainless bimbo.

“I've been here over a year now, and spent nine months doing ER orthopedic trauma, so I've met a lot of people. And set a lots of bones,” she added, hoping to beef up her resume in his eyes. “Plus I work a lot of double shifts to gain experience, and do two rotation a month for ER instead of one.” (2)

His eyes narrowed as he studied her, his hands on his hips of his scrub pants. “Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?”

“I told you, that's not what's been distracting me.” Suddenly awareness flared in the air between them. “Don't take too long to make a decision.”

Serena felt like she had already made her decision. “I'll let you know as soon as I have.”

“Well, see you on Monday then. I'm leaving for the day.” His blue eyes rolled over her, without a hurry and with possession. “Unless you make a decision before the night is over. Then just page me.”

“And you'll come running over?” He smiled tightly. “Something like that.”

More likely it would be her doing the running. It was embarrassing to admit even to herself how long it had been since she slept with a man.

Given that most men saw her as a funny little friend, she hadn't dated tons. Over the years she'd had a few boyfriends, of course, but even those had been lukewarm affairs, friendship more than grand passion.

She and her boyfriend Seiya (Yes, I decided to bring him in, screw Mr. Davidson's son, he could be Taiki…or someone else…) had called it quits after realizing that while they spent almost everyday together palling around, they could go on two or three weeks without sex and neither of them seem to notice. Never had she experience a melt-your-panties kind of passion.

Right now her panties seemed convince Darien was the man to melt them and were halfway to liquid already.

Darien started to brush by her at the same time she turned to go the opposite way.

Serena found herself knocking into his chest again, stumbling from the impact, bouncing around the hallway like a pinball with hair. His warm hands cam out and gripped her arms to steady her.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to quickly move out of his grip. Only she tripped over his foot.

Her shoulder hit the wall behind him and she gave him a nervous laugh. “Oops. I guess I haven't got the clumsy thing under control yet.”

“I know a cure.”

That was the problem. So does she. Only that particular cure seemed destined to land her in even hotter water than she was in right now.

“What? Ritalin?” she joked(3) He didn't laugh. “Just one night, Serena. I can guarantee you'll enjoy it.”

Enjoyment wasn't in question. She was getting hot with him just breathing in the same hallway with her. “I'm sure I will…would. It's just I'm not sure this is a good idea, I have too much at stake and I'm already screwing up lately by acting like a klutzy flake. What if this makes it worse and I blow my entire career to pot?”

Screwing up her fists, she took a deep breath as he just stared at her.

“I'm not going to stand around and try to talk to you into it. If you want me, you know where to find me.” He took a step away from her.

“But do me a favor. If you don't want to do this, stop wearing panties with lips on your ass. And stop bending over. The two together would tempt a saint, and despite what patients might say, I'm no saint.”

It was not the terms she would have chosen for him either. Her hands went to her behind, face burning. How long had he been able to see her panties? “I only wear these on Saturdays. They're day-of-the-week panties, and Saturday they're lips?”

“Oh, my god,” he said, before his eyes dropped down below her waist as if he were visualizing a seven-day panty parade.

Serena froze with her hands still on her ass. Every inch of her body was dripping with desire, shot clear through her until she was in agony. She was reduced to the intellectual level of an amoeba.

“What are the other days?” Darien said, sounding very intrigued.

Then some little devil in her, the one that was annoyed he had been so casual and blunt with her, smiled at him. “Since you only want one night, I guess you'll never know.”

OOOOOOOOOO

Darien drove his Jeep across the sand of the Crossroad Inlet Beach and glanced at the water.

The sight was incredible. The waves of the Oikawa coast were normally mild-mannered, making for only recreational surfing as opposed to the competitive level of beaches in Australia and Hawaii.

But today they were high and glorious, and he couldn't wait to test them out. He parked next to half a dozen other cars and cut the engine, taking in a deep breath of the salty air.

He loved the beach. He loved the feel of the hot sand beneath his feet and the warm water lapping around him.

It soothed him. It was the only place he let go, the one time in his life when he was willing to sacrifice control and let the ocean guide him.

But even then, surfing was a fight against nature, a determination to control the wave, the ride, the outcome of each time he lifted onto his bored.

As a kid he hadn't known control, watching his father mistreat his mother, knocking her around and more often than not coming home smelling like stale beer and swaet.

The day his father left for good was the best day of his life, and at that moment, Darien had taken control. Of his life, his mother's, and little sister Raye's.

He had only been fifteen, but he had been single-minded from then on, determined that he would find a way to be successful, to support his mother and sister.

He had achieved that. He enjoyed being a surgeon, and he knew he was good at it. When he did something, he liked to be successful at it. Sometimes he wondered if that's why he never consider marriage. He didn't like to lose.

A game, a challenge, or his heart.

He fought for control to the bloody end of every battle, and knew he was far too cynical to make anyone a good husband.

So he dated casually and spent the majority of his time focusing on his career now that his sister had married of to Darien's oldest friends. And his mom was busy being a grandmother.

Giving quality of life back to elderly patients was satisfying. He took himself and that responsibility very seriously, and he was meticulous in his methods, checking and rechecking himself and his co-workers over and over again.

His patients trusted him to heal them to the best of his ability, and he never wanted to compromise that trust.

Darien had been aware over the years that his bed-side manner was a little lacking, but it had never been easy for him to start up conversation with people.

He wasn't a talker. It was something he had work at, force himself to remember to smile and make conversation. Unlike Serena Moon, who he thought could chat with a tree stump.

After leaving the hospitable for the day, he'd stopped off at home and changed into a T-shirt and swimming trunks. He pulled off the shirt and tossed it on the seat of his Jeep, shaking his head just at the thought of Serena.

He must have lost his fucking mind.

Instead of counseling her, like he intended to, he had kissed the hell out of her and asked her to spend the night with him. He was just about certain she was going to say no.

Serena was already hanging on to her residency by a thread, and was clearly nervous that an affair with him would snap that tenuous hold.

He didn't understand her logic. If one looked at her med school records, she was brilliant. Her reports with patients are fantastic.

Yet she was nervous, tentative, and downright clumsy, none of which could be explained by an attraction to him alone.

He suspected at times that her heart wasn't in surgery, and that she would be happier in a more patient-oriented specialization.

It was why he had held back on allowing Serena control in the operating room.

She was an enigma he hadn't figure out.

Not to mention she was damn adorable. And he was more interested in stripping off her little dick-teased lip-printed panties than psychoanalyzing her. (4)

Grabbing his short board out of the back of the Jeep, he turned his mind resolutely back to the surf. Serena was back in the cool, sterile, hushed hospitable, while he was out here in the glorious sun facing the best swells all summer.

“Hey, Darien!” He looked up to see Andrew and Chad (5) walking across the sands toward him. H

e'd surfing with these guys since high school, and he'd never doubted for a minute they'd be out here all day, even if they all had more responsibilities now than they'd had more than 13 years ago. “Hey guys, what's up?”

“What took you so long?” Andrew scolded as he dropped his board in the sand, then himself.

“A patient. What do you think?” His friend would have never guess he'd been begging for sex form a hospitable colleague and he wasn't about to tell him.

“What are you laying down for? I'm ready to go out.” Darien prodded Andrew's leg with his foot. “I'm sitting this one out. I'm whipped today.”

“Don't be an old lady,” Darien said in disbelief. “These are the best waves all year.”

Andrew rested back in the sand and closed his eyes, dropping his hand on his chest. “You don't understand, I'm marry. Rita kept me up all night.:

“Jesus, that's more information than I needed.” Not to mention he was partially erect from his teasing encounter with Serena an hour ago. He didn't need sex talk right now.

“What, are you embarrassed? You've gotten a conscience or something? You used to be a big talker, form what I remember.” Andrew snorted.

“Yeah, well, you can't talk about what you're not getting.” Not getting on regular basis, anyway. He did envy Andrew and Chad that.

His buddies laughed at him, while he grumbled and pretended to check the wax on his board. “Besides, I never was one to blab about what I was doing with girls. That was you.”

“You need a life outside of that germ-filled hospital, Darien” Chad said. “Raye's got another woman all lined up for you.”

Oh, hell. Darien frowned. He'd been friends with Chad for twenty years, way before the guy had fallen for Darien's younger sister, Raye. W

hile Darien had gotten over his body sleeping with his baby sister, and learned to appreciate that Raye was in good hands since she'd married Chad, it also meant that his friendship with Chad was always tied to his sister.

Which he could do without.

But he had a definite soft spot for Raye, despite her tendency to think the answer to all his problems lat in marrying one of her friends.

He didn't have the heart to tell her he was never getting married, and that while he wasn't above having some company for dinner, there was no women he would ask out twice.

More than one date, they started to have expectations.

Expectations he couldn't live up to.

Besides, he hadn't met anyone who intrigued him enough to want more than one date.

Except for Serena Moon.

Who alluring qualities centered around her lush curves and how soon he could lick every inch of them.

“All right, I'll go on a date with Raye's friends,” he told Chad with a shrug.

Chad clapped him on the back. “See, that's what I like about you. You're so easy-going. And all this matchmaking business keeps Raye's mind off having another baby, which is what she really wants to do.”

“Two aren't enough?” Darien loved his two little niece and nephew, ages four and two, but damn, they worn him out. He had serious doubts about his personal ability to deal with that kind of constant diaper-ridden chaos.

“Its plenty for me,” Chad assured him. “But Raye's a born nurturer, you know, and with Ann out of the crib, she's got an empty spot.”

“Buy her a dog,” Andrew suggested. “They shit just as much, but they cost less.”

Chad laughed. “Yeah, I'll suggest it to Raye just like that. I'm sure it'll win her over.”

As Andrew and Chad were argue the merit of Lads versus Irish settlers, Darien found himself wondering about Serena.

He didn't know her very well, but he supposed she fell solidly into the category of a nurturer.

Which disturbed the hell out of him. He should count himself lucky that Serena looked inclined to say no to his offer of a single night of passion.

She wasn't the one-night-stand type, and he might have found himself entangled in a big old emotional mess that wouldn't have fixed tension between them, but increased it tenfold.

Yeah, he was feeling lucky all right. Too bad his rock-solid and sadly neglected dick didn't agree.

He interrupted the dog conversation. “So you're really sitting out this wave?” he asked Andrew.

Andrew nodded, he said to Chad, “That's enough bullshitting for me, boys, I'm heading out. You coming?”

As Chad nodded, Darien kicked off his shoes and dropped his towel down on the sand next to Andrew.

He tossed his cell phone onto it, he wasn't on call, and he didn't really expect Serena to page him, but on the off chance…he sure in the hell he didn't want to miss her if she did.

With a firm grip on his board, he went down to the edge of the water, squishing the wet sand beneath his toes.

He bent over and attached his leash to his ankle. The device kept him and his board form being separated if he fell off.

Then he was on his stomach, paddling out, relaxing under the hot sun. Chad was next to him, but they didn't talk. This time was for silence.

For just enjoying the ocean and listening to the melodic roar of the waves rising and falling in a timeless pattern.

There were shouts of excitement and groans as other surfers rode and crashed, but Darien blocked those sounds out and concentrated just on stoking back and fourth with his hands lightly skimming the surface of the warm water.

When he came to a wave, he lifted his waist and let the water pass between him and the board.

Serena was on his mind again, a disturbing floating presence in his thoughts constantly, confusing him with her unexplainable attraction.

She walked with a bounce. Nearly a foot shorter than him, she had to almost run to keep up with his strides sometimes. How would that petite curvy body fit against his?

Her full chest would press against his ribs and her mouth would glide across his bare skin, rolling over him with a teasing little stroke. Then she would go down on her knees and….and…

He groaned aloud in disgust. Imagining her giving him head was not doing anything but giving him a huge boner (6) in his swim trunks.

Since he was in the water, and his trunks were soaked, he was going to shock the hell out of his friends when he stood up.

Yeah, it was a damn good thing she wasn't going to call him. Forget about her morning-after reaction to a night together.

He wasn't sure he trusted himself mot to want more. Pathetic. He commanded himself to put Serena out of his mind, and focus on the wave rising in front of him instead. It was a big one.

On the outside of his crest, he suddenly leapt up on to his board and hunched down, feeling the spray of thrusting water fly across him as he turned the board quickly back and forth using his legs muscle.

He was on top of the wave, soaring through the air, catching a view of the huge expanse of mustard-color beach and feeling the tenuous balance between him and his board, resting on nothing but water,

It was exhilarating.

He lasted a solid eight seconds before the crest buckled and he dropped onto the pit at the bottom of the wave. In another second the whole of the wave crashed on top of his head, sending him catapulting off his board and sailing through the water.

Closing his mouths, he let the surf pummel him and knock him around until he, the broken wave, and his dangling board all washed ashore.

Not one of his finer endings to a run. (The next part is when you girls scream;)

Shaking the water of his dark hair, his bangs covering his blue eyes, sat there, water dripping down his body.

He unhooked his leash and reined his board in with a self-satisfied grin. That had been a blast.

“Whoa, Ice, total wipeout.” Darien looked up form his position sitting in two feet of water to see three teenage boys grinning at him. He shrugged it off.

The fall had been worth the ride. These guys knew that as well as he did. They were out here just about every day and had nickname him Ice since he was known fro riding his board without a lot of movement.

He suspected it also had a thing or two to do with his personality. He wasn't exactly known for hanging around shooting the breeze.

One of the teens didn't look like he'd been in the water that day and was sporting a big bandage around his foot. “What happen to you, Allan?(7) Jellyfish?”

Allan grinned, tossing his back his brown hair,. “No, I got bit by a shark yesterday. Six stitches in my foot.”

“Really?” Darien stood up and leaned against his board. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah.” Allan shrugged it off. “it was like getting a huge paper cut, you know? It was a little shark, just about three-foot black tip.”

Black-tips were common on the waters around Crossroad beach and were known for coming in close to shore in search of fish and mistaking human limb for them.

Usually they sank their teeth in, then released quickly, probably realizing they'd bit something bigger then them. “Well, no going onto the water until those stitches are out, all right?”

“I hear you.” Chad came up beside them. “How many is that? Like six bites in the last few weeks?”

“Something like that.” Another one of the boys said, “They were talking about closing the beach, but I think that's crazy. Getting bitten by a black-tip's no worse than a jellyfish, and they never talked about closing the beach for jellyfish.”

Darien thought he made a point. Shark or jellyfish, nothing was going to stop the majority of them form coming out here.

“Did you see that sign the Coast Guard put up?” Chad asked as he pointed to the sign. “Warning. Dangerous marine life had been spotted in this area.” He gave a snort. “Give me a break.”

Darien agreed. He wasn't about to give up on the best waves he's seen in a long time just on the off chance of getting a nip in the heel. Until someone got bit by a serious predator like a bull shark, he was going to stay in the water.

He was headed back toward the edge of the surf, intent on another wave, when he saw Andrew waving to him to come over.

Annoyed at the interruption, he jogged back to his friend. It was getting late, and he wanted to get a few more runs in before the sun disappeared.

The diversity tactic was working. While in the air on his board, he had actually gone a whole minute without thinking about Serena. Which was lately a damn record.

“What's up? You coming out at this time?” Andrew nodded.
Yeah, but your cell phone's buzzing.”

Shit. Darien stared at it, lying so innocently on his navy blue towel. It couldn't be her.

But it could be.

He went hard, tight with need and aching with tension. Andrew glanced at him as he stood up and brushed off his swim trunks. “Aren't you going to see who it is?”

“Maybe.” He shouldn't want this. It was a bad idea for all the reasons Serena outlined, plus the half-dozen or so he'd come up with on his own.

Yet he still wanted it. He wanted her. He could taste her kiss on his lips again, feel her curves pushed against him, and hear her anxious little breathe.

Fuck, he wanted her.

Andrew shook his head, “You need to get a life. You're starting to get weird, man.”

Darien ignored him and bent over. He picked up the phone and read the text.

Call me. Serena.

Yes. Giddy with relief and anticipation, he stuffed his wet towel onto his bag and picked up his board.

“Where are you going?” Andrew demanded. “You just got here.”

The best waves all season suddenly held a little interest in light of the alternative. He clapped Andrew on the shoulder. “I've got a date. Sometimes even us single guys get lucky.”

And he was planning on getting really lucky.

All night long.

OOOOOOOOOO

I'm not feeling well. I lost my c.d. player and now I can't sleep. W

hich is a BIG minus point for you guys. You see. When I go to sleep, my `creative' side comes out and think about my stories.

Well, I can't find my c.d. player which means I can't sleep. If I can't sleep…bye bye stories…so I hope to find it soon! It would really help if you review though!

(1) `Melvin Gurio…' Anyone know his English name? Last name I mean.

(2) `ER' I know a lot about this stuff because like 10 people in my family are doctors so it's kind of hard not to…

(3) `Ritalin' Ritalin is something that has to do with the nervous system.

(4) `Psychoanalyzing' psychoanalyzing means...well…to psycho analyze.

(5) `Chad' anyone know his English lat name?

(6) `Boner' Okay, that means an embarrassing mistake…what does that have to do when a man gets horny?

(7) `Allan' is it Allan or Allen?

I just thought of this idea so I don't have to put in anymore author notes! I hope to find my c.d. player soon!

Ja!

Woven Bamboo Pattern (One and Only)