1A/N: Just really testing to see if people will like this or not. I am looking for something to work on as soon as my other fanfic is done. I hope you all like this.

Disclaimer: I do not own CCS, Clamp does. With that said and done, put down your phones, cause you can't sue me now. Why would you anyway? What the hell did I ever do to you?

Another Kind of Girl

Prologue

My eyes scanned freely over the strange room as I memorized each and every bit of whatever my eyes fell on. My nose absorbed the scent of the room, taking in the smell, keeping it deep in my memory. My hands touched the soft sheets, that were warmed by the body heat let off by the two of us.

Yes, the two of us. My head as I viewed the figure next to me. She clung to her pillow and hugged it gently as she laid on top of it, her hair gently flooded over her body and covered most of her otherwise naked exposed back, and half of her face. I began to memorized the marvelous colour of her hair. It was a gorgeous strawberry blonde that glistened as the sun peeked through the curtains and onto her sleeping form.

I slowly rose from the bed and reached for my clothes that laid scattered on the floor. I was pretty much completely dressed when I reached into my jacket and pulled out a black pen and a little note book.

I flipped the book's cover open to a fresh clean piece of paper. I took the cover off my pen before I looked down at the note book's blank page. I thought for only a moment before I began to write things down on the paper.

Dearest Kumiko,

I can't begin to express what I felt with you last night. From the moment our eyes met, I felt the intensity in your eyes as you gazed upon me. They burned with the same beauty as that of a goddess. Who am I kidding? You are a goddess. I'm almost sure the gods sent you to toy with me and drive me made with every whisper, every touch and glance you sent my way. You let me serve you, an honor I feel to be oh so unworthy of. I thank you for that, Goddess Kumiko, for my dreams will always be filled with images of you.

-Your Lone Wolf

Syaoran Li

I quietly pulled the piece of paper out of the booklet and placed it on the pillow beside the young woman, where I slept. I stole one more glance at the sleeping woman before I pulled my jacket on and left the bedroom, and moments later I was out of the apartment in the hallway, heading towards the elevator.

888

I took a sit at my kitchen table not long after I returned to my own apartment. The table was messy with papers and books on many woman like subjects. Such as books on sexual positions, woman's personalities, and how they were different from others. Even a few romance novels were scattered around the tables.

I know that anyone who didn't know who I was would be rather freaked out by the sight of my kitchen table. A very understandable concept, but I simply just liked to think of them as my study materials. Anyone who had a career like mine did similar, if not the exact same research. Besides, women seemed to like reading them, so it was great to get ideas to please women. Which of course is my job.

I was often told by my mentors that I was talented visually. I was able to look at something and take a mental note that lasted for months, if perhaps not years in my head. You seem my clients often liked getting material objects upon my arrival, a compliment, sometimes they expected me to do nothing but simply follow their lead.

Everyone of them were different from the next. Some called me and old me right off what they wanted. Others heard of my talent. The talent that made me successful in this business. The talent to know one's personality and know exactly what it was they wanted in a man. Thus, I could make a lot of happy women. Which of course, was my job.

My job, which had many titles. A male escort, sometimes even a street walker. I even heard the term man-whore once or twice. The truth is that these are all incorrect terms.

A male escort is a person who is paid to escort someone to an occasion or event. To a wedding or to a business event. Pretty straight forward. Anything that happened during the events, a kiss or a busy night was just considered a bonus, a tip if you will.

Street walkers is a term normally used for women who sell their bodies. They live on the streets or in low income area's of a city. I have never understood the term man-whore, and can only assume what the title means. I suppose it is similarly to street walkers, but referring to a male.

I am none of these though. I am a gigolo. Simply put, a professional man who will spent a night with a woman, letting her live her fantasy created by him for a fee. I myself from my experience am hired by mostly the women themselves, but sometimes I am by close friends or family members of a woman who I will serve.

We meet these women and treat them in the manor they wish to be treated, and give them a night, they hopefully won't forget too soon. We are very clean cut, and live in middle class area's of the cities we live in. Only after we have made a name for ourselves of course.

We get hired for many reasons. Women who are well aware that they are on the rebound sometimes call us up. I've gotten called to get back at a cheating boyfriend or husband, to attempt to show them how it felt anyway. Just last spring I was even asked by a either to cheer her daughter up.

Most of my customers are the same though. They are women with sexual appetite's much larger then what they're boyfriends can handle. Most of them think very highly of themselves, which leaves me to often simply refer to them as goddesses.

I turned and picked up a typed piece of paper from one of the piles found on the able. I turned back to my position and read the paper over. It was mostly just facts in point form about my client. Kumiko Kamiswa it read at the top. She was one of them. The Kami was perfectly ironic, one I often made jokes about. Whenever I left her a note, I found myself fighting the urge to begin to laugh.

Which brings me to explain the notes. All real professional gigolo's have a trademark that makes them known and remembered. Mine was my notes what I left every morning after. I made the notes to seem as personal as I could without putting any of my emotion or opinions would come through.

My dear friend, and trainer, Meiling, thought of it for me, and I am glad to say it has become a huge success in my business. I was told by many regular's that they kept all my notes so that they may remember each encounter.

I placed the piece of paper back down on the pile it had just came from. I reached for the stray books that were scattered around the table. I neatly stacked them then took the piles of paper and did the same. I took a sit afterwards and reached for a schelecule book with a navy blue cover. My little black book, but with a blue cover.

I began to flip through the pages for this week looking at all my appointments. I hadn't scanned over the next day's schelecule when my phone to ring. I put the book down flat on the table then put the phone to my ear.

"Syaoran Li speaking," I answered.

"Hello is this the Lone Wolf Syaoran Li?"a females voice asled.

"Yes it is," I assured her.

"Just checking," a chuckle on the other end was heard. "There's actually four of us here and we were interested in hiring you for a close friend of ours."

I grabbed a blank piece of paper and took a pen into my hand and I prepared myself. "Alright, what is your friends name?"

"Sakura Kinomoto. Kinomoto is spelt K-I-N-O-M-O-T-O."

"Tell me about her. What's her personality."

Silence followed, then I heard a click, then some static. "We thought putting it on speaker would be best Li-san. Anyway, Sakura is the shy type, unless she gets to know you, then she opens right up." Only a moment later I heard another girl's voice. "She is a huge romance junkie." Giggles were heard loudly in the background."You got that right." "She's a very loving person, and cares about everyone, even if she doesn't know them really well." "Oh, Tomoyo, that is so true. She holds nothing against anyone."

"Oh, okay," Syaoran stated, hoping to be heard over the girls. "How old is she?"

"She's twenty-three," the original girls voice stated.

"And what does she do?"

"She's still in University, going to be a pharmacist."

"She's a study freak." Another cried.

"Exactly why we think she needs you!" Another chuckled.

I smiled, "That right there is perfect information. One last thing though. When and where?"