Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

Summary

ONE SHOT – Kai/Mimi. Don't look back. You can't live your life thinking 'what if?' that's what we're told. But what if the only safe place to run is back? Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed as are random acts of worship.

Muse: You know your summaries are becoming more and more cryptic.

Lamb: I know, but I can't seem to stop them. It's either cryptic or the story in bullet points.

Muse: I thought you'd feel at home with bullets?

Lamb: Yeah I do. I'd put on through your head if it didn't have to go through mine first.

Muse: Sometimes I get the feeling that you don't really love me.

Dedi: What was your first clue? This fic is dedicated to Moonlight Serenity cus she is a loyal reviewer of our Kai/Mimi fics. So Moonlight Serenity this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

Muse: On with the fic!

Beauty queen of only eighteen,
She had some trouble with herself,
He was always there to help her,
She always belonged to someone else,

Back To You

She is sat at a small two-person table, sipping her bottled water, when he slips into the seat opposite her. She raises her head, un-surprised that he has known where to find her, single look at her deathly pale face tells him all he needs to know. His fingers skim over the sapphire that adorns her left finger as he takes her small hand in his and leads her out to his car, opens the passenger door and watches in silence as she smoothly slides into the seat. They drive in silence, the air thick with thoughts and feelings that neither will ever voice. So close yet so separate. Fallen leaves litter the drive and crunch underfoot as they walk to the front door.

It seems like only yesterday that she had last walked through the portal into the home they had once shared, but in truth it has been over a year since her feet have last trod the well known floor. She follows him into the den and sinks into one end of the sofa. The room has not changed in the time that has passed, still warmly painted in shades of pale orange and yellow, he had laughed at the colours she had chosen but had appreciated the effect as much as she had. The lighting is dim adding to the air of warm sanctuary, in all her life she has never found anywhere she has found safer than wrapped in his strong embrace watching the fire dance in this room.

He crosses to the drinks cabinet and without asking fixes her drink the same way he had many times before. He takes his vodka neat without ice; she takes hers with lemonade with a dash of lime cordial. She takes the glass he offers and sips as he sits beside her, close enough that she could reach out and touch him but still far enough away to be separate. The heat from the fire is creeping around the room, seeping into her bones and easing the chill that surrounds her heart. The gas flames licking over the simulated coals are reflected in her velvet orbs. She places the glass on the floor and raises her head feeling his eyes burning intensely into her neck. Her chocolate honey eyes met his and are caught and held by orbs crimson, amethyst and every shade in-between.

"Do you want to tell me?" It is the first thing either of them has said. His voice is low and gravely with the same strong masculine edge that had entranced her from the first time she had heard it, it seems so long ago now. She drops her gaze and focuses on her hands, he slides close and raises her chin with an index finger the pad of his thumb running over the bruise that is already starting to form on her cheek, stroking the angry red mark. A tremor runs through her as pain sears her flesh but she can't bring herself to turn away from his caress. Her eyes raise to his, the warm honey swimming with unshed tears that are less to do with the pain in her body and more strongly related to the storm raging within her tormented psyche.

She thinks she must have wanted to tell him for she finds the words falling from her mouth. She tells him of the demands her manager is making on her, the pressure she is being put under to produce her fourth album, and fatigue of the constant touring and live performing. Finely she tells him of the augments she has to go home to when she ends up working late at the studio, augments that would degenerate for verbal to physical and leave her body burning and bruised. Tells him of the man she no longer stand to have touch her but can not leave for fear of what he might do. When at last she winds down her feet are curled beneath her and she is clutching a throw pillow to her chest.

His eyes, when she dares look at him, are dark seeming to have turned almost black by the mixture of fury, pain and desire that swirls in their crimson depths. He reaches out and after taking the pillow from her grasp and pulls her close. He holds her gently as if she were a fragile porcelain doll, chipped and broken with a hairline crack running across her face. They sit in silence for a long time, until her tears have dried to silky softness on her cheeks, the only sound the ticking of the clock calving eternity in to passing seconds.

"Thank you." She whispers, unwinding her legs and making to stand. He takes her hand, his flaming eyes still steady on her face, she offers him a won smile and kisses him lightly on the cheek. Without hesitation he draws her in, before she can pull back he is returning her cheek kiss, then another then his lips are sliding to her neck, her ear and finally her mouth. She smells the familiar sent of sweat and ice, a sent she knows as well as her own flesh and a million images burst in her brain. She feels the arms and chest she has know for years and that had once held only her.

She loves making love with him, she always has. From that first earthquake magic in an air-conditioned hotel room during her third world championship to the later years when it became slower, deeper, a melody she knew as well as that of her own soul. Making love with him is all encompassing, pure sensation and total detachment. She needs that now. She needs the familiar and comforting. The shattering of her consciousness and the stopping of time. She thinks of trapped birds singing in cages, back hands stinging her skin, of loneliness and distance. Then his hand slides to her breast and she thinks of nothing else.

-------

In the flash of waking for a terrifying instant she did can not remember him, caught the limbo where dreams still cling to her, saviour and tormentor are mixed and entwined. But a moment later recognises who he is, when he pulls her back towards him, strokes her hair, licks her eyes and neck, then kisses her breasts and belly. Finally feeling him deep inside her, she knows he has made love to her many times before and dreads the thought of never feeling again in her entire life the way she feels with him. All the while he is drinking her in, she feels herself streaming down a corridor into a familiar place that is strange only because she has not visited there in so long a time.

Fear and euphoria crash and whirl together in a maelstrom that drives all reason from her as she becomes lost the force that is being loved by him. No face reminiscent of any other, but the scents, the textures, the music were all carrying her across. The room is a kingdom, the inside of a cup, the night pouring in tasting of mint. A flashback of a flashback: a swing and a child's foot, the space existed, in the same instant, in his fingers, in the air, in her white toes, pressing like pebbles into his thighs. In the dark, she senses light.

-------

When next she wakes they still lay entangled together, the blanket from the back of the sofa has been pulled down to cover their bare bodies. She lies atop him and looking down is mesmerised by the burning orbs the are intently watching her. For a moment she can not place the sound that has awoken her until it comes again, the mechanical cheeping of her phone. Her bag still sits propped against the side of the sofa where she had placed it many hours before. Reaching for it she pulls out the source of the disturbance her eyes filling with distress as the name displayed on the screen registers with her still sleep addled brain.

Answering she murmurs a greeting and perhaps in some childish attempt to distance the voice on the other end of the line with the man lying beneath her she sits up, the blanket rising with her. Her eyes fly wide and she bits down hard on her lip to keep a moan from escaping her throat, in rising so suddenly the angle of his penetration was abruptly changed sending a jot of pleasure through her body. She turns her head and presses the phone close to her ear, yet still every word is carried to him in the still warm air. The tone is one of annoyance and is edged with steal; the words are barked questions that make his jaw clench in anger as he grinds his teeth together.

Her replies are stilted, and uncertainty fills her eyes making the dark pools seem deep enough to drown in. She turns her head further, unable to look at him while she lies to the disembodied voice, that demands of her in harsh and uncaring tones that split the air. He feels his rage getting the better of him as he listens to the words that are dropping from her lips, she mumbles down the phone that she if fine and once again she has to bite hard on her lip to keep from crying out. She looks down at him a single crystalline tear rolling down her cheek as her body shakes in the aftermath of the sudden pain. His eyes are not upon her face but upon his hand that is now stroking the vivid bruise that spreads across her ribs. A bruise on which his fingers pressed a moment before, causing her stifled cry and confirming his suspicion of cracked ribs. Her free hand takes his, holting its movement, as her eyes silently beg him for something she too is unsure of.

"When are you coming home?" The words are cold, the tone cruel and harsh, they carry clearly to him as she bights her already bleeding lip, the tears filling her eyes making them seem double their normal size. He takes a deep breath and makes a split second decision that he knows, no matter the out come will change his life forever. Her hand is shaking as he gently takes the phone from her, eyes that could have read words painted on her soul never leaving her face.

"She is home." Snapping the phone shut he drops it to the floor ignoring it when it almost instantly begins to ring again. Reaching out he brushes the fallen tears from her face, watches as her expression changes from fear, to bewilderment, and then confusion is staring back at him from her face. Wide eyes beg an unvoiced question, as she tries to comprehend what is happening. He dips his head slightly in confirmation of what he knows she is thinking and soft smile tugs at the edge of his mouth. He caresses her face once more before pulling her down to him and gently kisses her lips tasting the salt of her tears in the corners of her mouth as he deftly guides her body into a better position. A single, possessive thought runs through his mind; mine.

Lamb: Well there you have it, I have no idea who the guy hitting Mimi is. I think it might have been Garland but I can't swear to it, if you think you know please tell me.

Muse: One question?

Lamb: What?

Muse: If she does stay with Kai will she give back the engagement ring?

Lamb: Go fuck a duck!!!

Dedi: Oh no not that again. We hope you liked it Moonlight Serenity and please let us know what you thought. Now I'm leaving before I go mad too.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth