Author's Introduction:

This was originally supposed to be a Valentine's Day fic, but I didn't get it out in time cause I'm a bit busy packing stuff up to get ready to go home. It's still a Valentine's fic, I just had to do some re-ordering.

Before anyone starts harassing me with White Day facts, yes, I am aware that Valentine's Day is celebrated a little differently in Japan. But you know what? I'm an American. Live with it, because I have to.

Conversation Hearts

A Ronin Warriors fanfic by Firestar9mm

I like things that are so good
You are so, so good

(Underdog, Lisa Loeb)

He would never admit it out loud, but one of Sage Date's most prized possessions was a small key.

It wasn't flashy, as keys went. It had a rounded head, punched with a small hole for a ring to pass through, and a short tail with lots of tiny, blunt little teeth. It was the color of an old penny, and sometimes it stuck in the lock and he had to jiggle it until it turned. But it was his treasure—it opened a door that over the years had become indescribably important to him.

She'd given the key to him months ago, in such an offhanded way that it seemed barely an afterthought, but every time he touched the key he remembered it as vividly as if it had just happened.

He'd asked her out for the evening, and she'd accepted cheerfully. For the entire night, he'd been shyly pleased at the dusting of makeup across her pretty face and the flirty dress she'd chosen, flattered that she'd dressed up for him. A late dinner, a walk whose pace had gotten slower and slower as they'd found more things to talk about, and then he'd escorted her home, taking the key from her to open the door for her as was his way. But instead of walking further into the house, she'd stopped just inside the entryway, waiting. Accepting the unspoken invitation, he'd followed her inside and locked the door behind him, questioning her with a look. Stepping closer, she'd curled her fingers around his, closing his hand on the key.

"You keep it," she'd said, eyes shining with contentment, hands still wrapped around his. "I have another. This one will be yours."

From that day on the key was his.

It rode on his key ring, and when he let the ring dangle from his hand it slipped down to rest beside the shiny silver key to his beloved Nissan Fairlady, the two shards of metal snuggling together in the pocket of his leather jacket like lovers. He wasn't sure if any of the other boys had a key; most likely they did, but he never asked them. He didn't want to know; he didn't want anything to change how the gift of the key had made him feel.

Welcome. Special.

He never went anywhere without it, because in the back of his mind he knew there was always a possibility he'd end up at the house. It happened more often than ever, and while she was usually there to welcome him in, he never wanted to be locked out.

Today, he slid the key into the lock with a feeling of relief. Of homecoming.

The door opened easily, and he let the key jingle against its ring as he drew it from the lock. His way of saying, I'm home.

A moan answered him.

Sage froze, the key dangling from his fingers, unsure if he'd actually heard it or if his mind was playing tricks on him. But before he could assure himself that it was nothing, he heard it again—unmistakably a moan, a soft, breathy expression of female ecstasy.

It was louder than the first, and his brain, the part of him that was not affected by soft sounds of yearning from members of the opposite sex, continued to try to talk sense to him despite having little to no blood in its quadrant. It recognized the cadence of the voice as Mia's, and was unhelpfully supplying pictures of situations that might provoke a sound like that, reminding him of sweet secret daydreams where he was the reason that sound issued from her lips.

His leather jacket suddenly felt like cellophane, melting over his dress shirt and jeans, sticking to him in a sudden heat.

But he was out here. And she was in there. When she sighed like that, it was not him that she wanted. Then…what?

Shaking these thoughts away, he told himself firmly that he should leave. His unhelpful brain was suddenly providing less pleasant thoughts—perhaps she was not alone. If he were to walk in on her with someone else—making that sound—it would be so embarrassing for her, and just plain unbearable for him, for so many reasons. He didn't want to see that—he didn't want to know.

But the key.

He'd closed his fingers around it, perhaps to distract himself from his own thoughts, and now its sharpness in his grip brought his brain back to optimum efficiency. She'd given him the key—it was his. He was welcome in this house, any time, by her edict. Even if there were someone else in the room with her now, he had a place here, too.

Making up his mind, he held the key tightly in his fist and strode into the living room to take that place.

He needn't have worried.

Mia lay on the sofa, sprawled out like royalty, quite alone. She wore an old jersey that bore the Shinsai University colors in stripes and a faded number 3. The jersey was short, a glimpse of bare midriff visible between it and her denim skirt. Her knees were hooked over the arm of the sofa, one bare foot kicking up while the other dangled. One thumb hooked playfully into an empty belt loop, pulling the denim teasingly down to reveal just a bit more skin; the other hand was at her lips, pushing something between them and sighing sweetly.

Sage had a split second to take in the scene as he entered the room, and something crunched beneath his shoe with his first step—a little wax-paper cup, the kind that were wrapped around candies before they were placed in heart-shaped boxes. The floor was covered in them; they were scattered across the room like fallen leaves, all leading to the sofa and the reclining girl. As he watched, she unwrapped yet another chocolate, peeling the wax-paper cup away with two fingers and pushing it into her mouth with her thumb, her eyes closing in ecstasy as that longing sound issued from her throat once more.

At first, he thought she hadn't heard him come in; she seemed so enthralled with her candies. He purposely tread on more of the discarded wax-paper cups; the warrior of Halo could have avoided them easily, but he wanted her attention, and though the proud samurai would never ask for it out loud, there were other ways to get her to look at him.

She heard; her eyes flickered open and she smiled around the chocolate she was biting into, her eyes twinkling happily. "Mmm," she purred, wiggling marshmallow-coated fingertips at him in greeting. "Want some?"

Now that he had her attention, he turned his gaze to the objects that littered the floor. Wax-paper cups dotted every available surface, tumbling out of open heart-shaped boxes, huddling together in groups, laughing and whispering about the blond boy who walked among them and made them rustle. Plastic bags of candy hearts lay artfully heaped like pillows beneath a miniature skyline of whipped cream canisters and boxes of bon-bons. White Blaze was happily batting something back and forth across the floor—a small, absurd plush monkey clutching a satin heart. The tiger looked like nothing more than a big kitten, pushing the monkey along with one paw, then chasing it to repeat the process. As Sage approached, he picked the monkey up in his teeth and trotted over to the blond, showing off his toy.

Kneeling to rub the tiger's ears, Sage murmured, "Where'd you get that, boy?"

White Blaze turned and placed the monkey on Mia's midriff, giving her a big, sloppy lick. She giggled, twisting her body so she could hug him around the neck. "He's my valentine," she laughed. "Strong, silent, and a good kisser. My type of guy."

White Blaze thanked her for the compliment with another "kiss" and she giggled again.

"That's sweet," Sage said, "but I'm sorry to tell you that Valentine's Day was weeks ago."

Frowning, Mia sat bolt upright on the sofa, pitching the monkey at him. The soft toy thumped against Sage's broad chest; he quickly scooped it up in his hands before it fell to the floor.

"You are so mean," Mia huffed.

"Mean! You're the one throwing monkeys," he said, looking at the plush animal. "Where did you get this thing?"

White Blaze looked eagerly up at Sage, hoping Halo would lose interest in his toy and give it back.

Mia pulled a sofa pillow into her lap, hugging it to her chest as she drew her legs up. "At the drugstore. They marked down all the Valentine's stuff. Seventy-five percent off." For the first time since he'd come into the house, she seemed shy. "I…decided to give myself some valentines." She giggled softly, blushing at him.

Sage's gaze flickered to the floor, to the bags of heart-shaped candies and discarded wrappers, cut-price expressions of commercial drugstore love scattered around her.

Getting up matter-of-factly, Mia put the pillow aside, brushed some stray wax-paper cups away and just like that, the decadent princess was gone. "But enough about my day," she said, smoothing her denim skirt down. "I'll bet you're hungry, aren't you, Sage? I'll fix you something."

And then she was gone, padding into the kitchen on slender bare feet. A pain in his hand told Sage that he was still clutching the key, but its teeth weren't as sharp as his guilt over interrupting one of the precious few moments that she treated herself and put herself first.

White Blaze ambled up to Sage's side, clamping his teeth around the monkey still clutched in the blond's hand and tugging gently. Sage relinquished the toy and rubbed the tiger's ears affectionately. The big cat curled up on the floor with the monkey snuggled under one paw, touching his nose to it.

Halo smiled at the tiger, his hand closing once more around his house key, smiled at how they all treated Mia's gifts like treasure.

From the very start, Mia had told Sage to make himself at home in her grandfather's house. His efforts never satisfied her—his shoes set neatly beside hers at the door, his jacket draped over a dining-room chair; the collar of his shirt unbuttoned and loosened—but for Sage Date, that was relaxed; that was home.

Now he reclined on the sofa and punched buttons on the remote control, trying to find something tolerable to watch on television. He flipped past China Beach, watched L.A. Law for five minutes before settling on an infomercial for replicas of samurai swords.

Behind him, the plush monkey slowly rose over the back of the sofa.

White Blaze watched curiously as the monkey appeared to look left, then right, then at him before inching closer to the Warrior of Halo.

White Blaze's tail twitched amusedly as the monkey turned left again, as if to look at Sage.

The blond moved like chain lightning. Dropping his left shoulder, he brought his right arm over to the monkey, seizing it and pulling with all his considerable strength.

Mia squealed as she was yanked bodily over the back of the sofa—she was so surprised by Sage's quick reflexes that she forgot to let go of the monkey. She landed heavily on the cushions, half-in and half-out of Sage's lap.

Wasting no time, he wrenched the monkey out of her hands, then proceeded to feather his fingertips against her ribs.

Her reaction was instantaneous—she arched away from the touch with a piercing shriek and began squirming to get away, but she was no match for Sage and he kept her wrists pinioned with one hand, continuing to tickle her with the other. Mia squirmed and squealed, batting at him and struggling like mad, her jersey riding up and leaving her ribs exposed to his playful assault. White Blaze watched with an amused expression, gnawing his plush toy contentedly; he'd seen this show before and knew it was only a matter of time before the heavier Halo's superior strength won the battle. Still, Mia fought valiantly, scratching and scrabbling for anything she could reach, pushing at him, nails catching in the fabric of his shirt and managing to pull a belt loop entirely off of the blond's brand-new jeans.

On the surface, it was teasing, but just beneath the game was an intimacy that had built between them over time. He knew all her ticklish spots—the curve of her slender neck, across her ribs, up and down her sensitive sides. He knew how to touch her—where—to evoke his desired response. In this case, that desired response was laughter, but sometimes, in the depth of night, he dreamt of his touch eliciting a different sound from her, a sound very similar to the ones he'd heard earlier this evening before discovering her on the sofa.

"Sage, stop!" she laughed into his shirt, nuzzling into his side. Every time she tried to escape, he reached around her midriff to brush his toughly-padded fingertips in teasing circles against her side, and she would squeak and roll in the opposite direction, towards him, curling around his body, scratching weakly at him and trying to make herself as small a target as possible. "No—ah! Sage, stop—ah ha ha!—don't, don't, d—ah!"

The last sound rose an octave on a piercing squeal, and she seized him by his shirt, rolling backwards off not only his lap but off the entire sofa and pulling him down with her. White Blaze dashed out of the way as they fell ungracefully down. Pain thrilled up Sage's arm and leg as his elbow and knee banged against the floor, but like any seasoned warrior he continued his attack despite his injuries, tickling her mercilessly, his mind barely registering the difference between skin and satin when his hands swept just beneath the hem of her raised jersey, brushing some soft part of her that housed her wildly beating heart. Mia's eyes closed tightly, tears beading at the edges of her lashes as she laughed. The fall to the floor had freed her arms and she reached across the floor, hands scrabbling like mad for a weapon, any weapon. Finding one, she closed her fingers around it, brought it between her and her assailant and fired.

White Blaze's ears stood straight up at the hissing sound of the shot; for the first time ever, Mia had stalled the unstoppable Sage of Halo. Right now, the blond was sitting back on his heels, completely still, blinking lashes that were starred together with whipped cream. It was matted in his hair and smeared across his nose and mouth.

Mia stared up at him with wide eyes, the canister of whipped cream still in her hands, waiting for him to lose his temper. He was so rarely playful that she hated to ruin it, but she had a feeling she'd gone too far this time.

Halo's tongue darted out of his mouth, licking away some of the cream. Slowly, he reached up and cleared the cream away from his eyes.

Mia waited.

Sage's shoulders began to shake, and as he wiped more of the cream away from his mouth it became obvious that he was smiling. Reaching down to Mia, he dabbed some idly on her nose. "You win."

She giggled, trying to lick the cream away, tongue poking out and curling futilely up towards her nose.

White Blaze couldn't stand it any longer; all that lovely whipped cream was going to waste. Padding over to Sage, he was more than happy to give Halo a big, sloppy lick.

The shirt was one of his oldest; he wore it often to the house, and although his conscious mind did not remember it, it was because she had once admired aloud how it brought out the color of his eyes. Time, wear and washing had softened both the color and the fabric to something pale and malleable that her hair burned against as she rested across his lap, head pillowed on the arm of the sofa, body stretched across his legs, knees drawn up. By contrast, he sat upright, his shoulders slightly relaxed, one arm draped across the back of the sofa, hand dangling down to barely brush against her bright hair.

The other hand held the canister of whipped cream. Matter-of-factly, he pressed the chilled metal can against her bare midriff, smiling as she squeaked in protest against the sudden cold.

"Stop tickling!" she giggled, swatting at him.

He neatly avoided the swipe and positioned the canister just above her laughing lips. "Open," he commanded. When she obeyed eagerly, he depressed the nozzle, spraying whipped cream into her mouth until the nearly empty canister hissed air.

She made that sound again, purring with pleasure as her tongue crushed the treat against the roof of her mouth. Sage shifted, jostling her in his lap as he tried to keep still after hearing that sound.

He shook the empty canister for emphasis; no more cream. Mia arched, reaching for one of the bags that littered the floor. Balancing it on her chest, she tore the plastic open and selected a handful of candy hearts. "Want some?" she asked, teasing them beneath Sage's well-made nose, which he immediately turned up.

"Those taste like chalk," he sniffed. "I don't know why people still buy those."

"I bought them because they were 75 off," Mia said matter-of-factly, tossing the handful into her mouth. "But most people buy them because of the messages."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sage admonished, poking through the bag.

"I thought you didn't want any," she said. "Don't touch them all if you don't want any."

"I don't want any," he agreed. "I'm just looking for one that says 75 OFF."

She playfully smacked his hand away. "You're so mean."

"I don't see any that say that either."

Mia fished in the bag for a candy heart. "Here, here's one for you," she said, shoving it under Sage's nose.

Sage's violet eyes crossed as he struggled to read the message printed on the little heart: BE GOOD. He chuckled and plucked the heart from her palm, tossing it into his mouth, but his smile dropped away as he chewed. "Chalk."

"Don't eat them if you don't want them. More for me," she said, eating some more candy.

"Why don't you eat some bon-bons?" he asked, trying to take the bag away from her.

Snatching the bag from him, Mia squirmed until she was sitting up, back braced against the arm of the sofa, legs still stretched across Sage's lap. "What's the matter? Why don't you like these?"

Sage inhaled through his nose. "Because they taste like chalk. How many times am I going to have to repeat it?"

"Liar." She drew one bare foot into his lap so she could dig into his side with her toes, and he seized her ankle, calmly replacing the offending foot down at the other end of the sofa. "I think candy hearts are adorable."

"What's so great about these?" Sage asked, sifting through the candies with a withering look. "If a man ever gave you these, I'd beat him up."

Mia gasped playfully. "You'd beat up a man for giving me candies?"

Sage's eyes were sharp as a winter sky. "For being too cowardly to tell you how he felt out loud."

Mia tilted her head, red hair sliding over her shoulder as she considered him for a second. Then she fished in the bag for a candy heart, smiling with satisfaction as she found the one she wanted and offered it to him.

Sage took the candy slowly, the printed words red against a white background. YOU'RE SWEET.

His eyes did more of the smiling than his mouth, but it was definitely apparent on his face that he was pleased. Stirring the candies, he selected one and displayed it to her, balanced on one fingertip, a tiny offering. THANK YOU.

"Not saying things out loud doesn't always make you a coward," she said, smiling and raising her eyebrows at him pointedly as she took the candy from him. "Maybe some people are just…shy."

Shy; he'd never considered it before, not about her. Not she who never backed down from anything; not she who was the first to speak when things needed to be said; not she who always knew exactly what to do and was always so sure.

Her lips curved sweetly as she found another message she liked in the bag of candies. Tilting it to display the message to Sage—URA TIGER—she offered it to White Blaze, who was lying beside the sofa. Perking up immediately from his contented state, the big cat rose on his forepaws to accept the treat with a quick lapping of his broad tongue across her palm. She rubbed his ear affectionately and offered him another heart, one that read MY BABY.

Sage smiled. "Too shy to talk to your valentine?"

"Didn't you ever feel that way?" Mia asked, blinking at Sage, long lashes sweeping down and up like fans. "Like there was something in you that you just couldn't say out loud?"

How ironic that she should be the one to ask, he thought, his eyes drifting to half-mast as their gazes met.

She tossed another candy heart to him, and the red letters burned at him from a green background. I WONDER.

It was a game—and how he loved their games, teasing quips and tickling fingers, but this was so much more dangerous than their usual play, with her heavy and warm in his lap, her diamond-bright mind whirring with questions she was shy to ask him out loud.

It was a challenge.

He selected a heart and pressed it into her hand. LET IT BE.

Mia frowned, frustrated by her own precious candy hearts working against her. Searching the candies with steely eyes, she parried. WHAT'S UP.

She held the bag of candy hearts in her lap, hands loosely cupped around it, his fingers brushing hers as they took turns speaking through the brightly colored questions and answers, things they didn't know if they were ready to say, things they weren't sure they were ready to hear.

Sage shook his head, but Mia was pressing another heart into his hand. TELL ME.

His violet eyes scanned the candies almost desperately. Wasn't there one that said "can't we talk about this later" or something?

Mia was a very easy read; she put on her moods and wore them like clothes. Her losses of patience always ended with her throwing things, and this time was no exception. The candy bag thumped against his chest as she chucked it at him with one hand and flicked one last heart at him with the other. The candy bounced off his shoulder and fell into his lap—DARE YA.

Momentarily defeated, she slumped against the arm of the sofa again, drawing her legs up so that they were arched across his lap but no longer touching him. This was another predictable behavior, and one that Sage found particularly hurtful—she pulled her warmth away from him when she was frustrated. It was flattering and infuriating how it went both ways—just as he suspected she showed him special attention, flirting and teasing him playfully, so too did she pout and grow petulant with him when she didn't get her way, behaving girlishly as with him as she would with no one else.

He wondered if she knew how deeply she affected him, with even the slightest drop of a shoulder, the flicker of lashes.

Cupping one large hand over her bare kneecap, Sage pushed her legs back down to rest on his lap once more. She drew them up again, tossing her hair, and he pushed them down a second time. This time, she didn't resist, but her cheek turned and her back straightened to let him know it was an effort.

Sage stirred the candies in the bag with one hand and reached for her with the other, pulling her hand towards him. She allowed this, not assisting or resisting.

He placed a heart in her hand. SMILE.

She didn't obey; instead, she popped the heart between pouting lips.

He tried again. BE HAPPY.

She stuck out her tongue at him and he took the opportunity to place the candy on the offered tongue. Nonplussed, she drew it back into her mouth and chewed.

Unable to help himself, he chuckled. CUTIE PIE, he told her through the candy.

Her face stilled, eyes darkening with thought. Reaching for the bag, she protested. WHAT EVER.

He reiterated, CUTIE.

She finally begrudged him a smile, she allowed her legs to relax, resting more comfortably on his lap again. She crunched the candies she was eating as she offered him one. SWEET TALK.

FOR YOU, was his answer.

Mia blinked, glancing from him to the candy and back again. He gave her another, so there might be no mistake. ONLY YOU.

All through the exchange, Sage had been collecting the hearts she handed him in one hand; Mia had been eating the ones he'd been handing her, but the next one he gave to her she held, curling her slender fingers around it.

YOU & ME.

A blush rose in her cheek and it flattered Sage more than any makeup she could have worn for him. MAYBE, she offered back.

He pushed a heart across her palm with a fingertip. WHY NOT.

Steely determination flickered through her eyes as she displayed a heart on her fingertip. ASK ME.

Sage didn't mind. If she wanted him to make the move, he owed her that much at least. Taking her hand, he pressed one last candy heart into it.

KISS ME.

Her body relaxing across his lap was the sweetest apology as he leaned in close, keeping one hand possessively on her knee as he took her mouth. She tasted like candy hearts, an echo of whipped cream, dark chocolate, and it felt like a sugar-coated full-price holiday.

Her hand slid up his chest as they broke the kiss and she looked questioningly at him. "What's so funny?"

Sage couldn't help but laugh. "You taste like…chalk."

Lightning flashed in Mia's eyes and her hand on his chest lifted to whack him hard in the shoulder. "Sage, you—!"

Before she could think of a name bad enough to call him, he'd pulled her close and slanted his mouth over hers again, much more passionately this time. Mia made a soft sound as he circled an arm around her waist and slid the hand on her knee to her hip. She left off hitting him and flattened her hand against his chest, over his heart. He wondered if the beat shook her hand the way it was shaking all his senses.

"Shy boys don't kiss like that," Mia gasped when he released her.

"I'm not shy," he assured her, just as breathlessly. "I can say it. Kiss Me. Be Mine."

She smiled, freeing her arms to lace her fingers behind his neck, toying with the hair at his nape. "Yes Dear."

Sage laughed, touching his lips to hers once more.

White Blaze nosed into the forgotten bag of candy hearts. They tasted sweet enough to him.

Author's Notes:

As I said, this was originally supposed to be a Valentine's fic. It's very late. But I really liked the concept and I haven't been putting out much fanwork lately, so I wanted to keep my hand in. So this was mainly for fun.

China Beach was a television program about an evacuation hospital during the Vietnam war that ran from 1988-1991 and starred, among others, Marg Helgenberger, who's famous these days for playing Catherine on CSI. L.A. Lawwas also a popular show in the States from 1986-1994, and was famous for a shocking episode that abruptly killed off a prominent character (Diane Muldaur as evil litigant Rosalind Shays) by having her accidentally step into an empty elevator shaft and fall to her death. Naturally, this is American pop culture, not Japanese pop culture, but I was a fan of these shows (you can still catch China Beach on certain cable channels) and I like to throw pop culture around, as readers of my fics might have figured out by now.

Every candy heart that Sage and Mia exchange contains an actual saying from Necco's Conversation Hearts. It was more difficult than you'd think to write a "conversation" with them! It took a long time studying stock photos to do it justice. I don't know why I can't stop eating those things, because they really do taste like chalk. (wrinkles nose.) Hmm.