This fic was written as part of a fanfic request from melengro on LiveJournal. He wanted me to basically do a challenge fic based on a challenge fic, so it'll really help if you've read "Late Night Conversation" first before reading this one. It's not necessary, but it might clear some confusion up.

Prompt: Mamiina's thoughts on the events of either the existing futurefic or that fic that you did a while back with her and Rodoreamon dancing in between two lullabies. Bonus points for her realizing that she's in love with Rodo.

Enjoy!

She watched quietly as the woman slept, feeling peaceful just knowing that the woman had made it safely through another day, and that she hadn't pushed herself too hard. Mamiina knew she would have made sure that Rodoreamon never worked too hard or pushed herself to her limits. It wasn't becoming of a woman of such a high birth status and she really wanted to see the best for Rodoreamon. She deserved so much more than what she had been given, but she loved her work and she loved the children almost as much as Paraietta did.

A smirk crossed her face when she thought of Rodoreamon with a child. The woman simply didn't know how to react at times. She also made the funniest faces when a baby began to cry once she began to hold it, often quickly handing it back to Paraietta, who would then gently calm the child. It would provide endless amusement.

Even now when she thought of it, she smiled. She had perched herself atop the vanity across from the bed. She knew that she would go soon, but not yet. She wanted to linger awhile longer, though she couldn't really explain why. Her eyes wandered to the window and noted the full moon outside. The light shone brightly, illuminating the room much more than usual.

"You're… here…" called the voice softly.

Mamiina froze. She hadn't meant to be discovered. She turned her head slowly, and looked toward the bed. Rodoreamon looked back at her sleepily. It was kind of cute, she had to admit, although she'd never voice it out loud.

"I was going. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't overworked yourself or anything." Mamiina crossed her arms. "After all, too many people count on you to be your best."

Rodoreamon sat up in her bed, looking straight at her. "You're always checking in on me, Mamiina. I've seen you. You don't know it, but sometimes I wake up and can't sleep. I'll see you nearby, just watching me…" She looked down at her sheets. "It's comforting. I feel better knowing I'm not alone."

For a time, Mamiina was quiet. She wasn't sure what to say to Rodoreamon's statement, but if she didn't realize it before, she knew now that Rodoreamon wanted her to stay around. "I don't come every night," she hastily remarked. Mamiina hadn't meant to seem as though she didn't care. She simply didn't know how to respond.

"I know you don't."

There was silence between the two. A faint ticking of the clock could be heard. Neither knew what to say. Mamiina looked to the window and Rodoreamon fiddled with her hands. Rodoreamon snuck a peek at Mamiina, noticing how the moonlight framed her features, giving her the pristine and pure look of an angel.

"Mamiina…" she whispered softly, hoping to get her attention.

Mamiina looked back at her, and Rodoreamon could not help but notice those sharp green eyes. "Yes?"

"Why do you always come? I thought ghosts weren't to be seen. I thought they were just meant for stories."

"I make sure you aren't working too hard. I told you, too many count on you."

Rodoreamon shook her head. She didn't believe that explanation. "I have others who check on me. They don't appear as often as you. They don't make sure I'm not up until the wee hours of the morning. They don't watch me sleep."

"You think I'm lying?" asked Mamiina defensively.

Shaking her head, Rodoreamon replied. "No, not that. I don't think you're saying what you really want to say. I think there's something else." She rose from her bed, bare feet padding across the carpeted floor. She stopped a few inches from Mamiina, not letting the sudden chill in the air bother her. Rodoreamon knew to expect it now.

Mamiina couldn't help but pull back instinctively as Rodoreamon looked up at her so confidently, as though she were looking into her heart. "What is it you think I'm trying to say?"

"I want you to tell me that, Mamiina," answered Rodoreamon softly. "You've not changed a bit. You keep things inside and don't let them out. I'm not as shy and hesitant as I used to be as a girl. I want you to tell me and not brush me aside because I wouldn't understand."

"You're quite persistent, little lady," remarked Mamiina with a smirk.

"Mamiina," warned Rodoreamon.

Mamiina huffed in response. "I don't know what you want me to say!" she replied testily.

"Never mind then," answered Rodoreamon, turning around. She said not another word as she walked back to her bed and slipped beneath the sheets. Sighing, she turned to face the wall, away from Mamiina. "If you're only here to check on me, you've done so. I think it's best if you go," she stated coldly.

Tilting her head, Mamiina studied Rodoreamon. She had never acted so cold toward her, and Mamiina knew she had been the one to provoke it. Rodoreamon was right though. She was only here to check on her, and now that she had, she should leave. That had been her plan from the beginning, right? Then why, she wondered, had she stayed so long each night and enjoyed listening to the steady sounds of Rodoreamon's breathing as she slept. Why did she smile when she saw how peaceful the woman looked?

A blush crept across her face. She didn't have to be able to feel it to know it was there. She was embarrassed at the feeling she got when Rodoreamon slept. She looked like… like… an angel. She froze as Rodoreamon shifted in the bed, and Mamiina feared that she'd realize she was still there. She just didn't want to go. Realization began to dawn on her. I don't want to go… I don't want to go because…

Mamiina drifted over to Rodoreamon's bed. She knew that Rodoreamon had to know she was there; the woman had to feel the drop in temperature surrounding her. Still, Rodoreamon's head faced away from Mamiina. "Rodoreamon," she called gently as she touched her shoulder. She watched Rodoreamon shiver in response.

"I thought you were leaving. You checked on me, so go." Rodoreamon pulled the sheets tighter around her shoulders. She still would not look at Mamiina.

"I'd like to tell you something," began Mamiina. "And I'd like you to look at me when I say it, so I'm not talking to the wall." She waited, looking down at Rodoreamon.

In a few moments, there was a sigh, and then Rodoreamon rolled over and sat up. She drew her knees to her chest and looked to Mamiina. "What do you want to tell me?"

Mamiina looked nervous, but she continued forward with what she had planned to say, now that she had realized it herself. "I don't just watch you because you need to take better care of yourself. I stay and I watch you because… because…" Her voice became a whisper. "Because I love you, Rodoreamon."

"Mamiina!"

Mamiina looked away, embarrassed. "Don't get all romantic on me!" she declared.

Rodoreamon looked at her tenderly. "I won't, Mamiina. It's just nice to know that you care for me as I care for you. I'm happy you could tell me that. It means everything to me."

"Yes, well, the little lady should be getting her beauty sleep. Doesn't she have an important conference in the morning?"

The realization caused Rodoreamon to gasp. "I do! And it's only a few hours until I need to be up!"

Chuckling, Mamiina called, "Then you'd best sleep. I'll leave you now."

She leaned over to kiss the top of Rodoreamon's head, but Rodoreamon tilted her head upward so that Mamiina kissed her lips instead. Rodoreamon shivered at the cold presence. "Now why did you go and do that?" asked Mamiina, shocked.

"No reason," replied Rodoreamon, settling under the sheets once more and smiling to herself. She closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Mamiina."

Mamiina took one last look. "Goodnight, Rodoreamon." She drifted toward the window before she faded from view.

When Rodoreamon awoke the next morning, she smiled to herself. It was the day she would confer with a few others who were doing just as she was, aiding the war effort. Her fingers rose slowly to her lips, and she touched them lightly. She could remember the feeling of the cold air against them, and knew it would be something she would never forget, always cherishing it.