Picture Perfect.

Aspirator.

Chapter 1: The Idea

"Congratulations, Tomoyo Daidouji!"

The dazzling young designer sat comfortably on her couch next to her assistant photographer Eriol Hiiragizawa. They smiled politely at the enthusiastic journalist in front of them.

"You've shown beautifully how fashion editorials could be more than just pretty pictures with cute clothes. It could be a story. And in your contest submission, you portrayed a love found and that same love lost. Without words. And it was," the woman wiped a stray tear from her eye. "It was absolutely beautiful. And the apparel - just stunning!"

Tomoyo thanked the woman wholeheartedly.

"So Ms. Daidouji, how did you come up with such a beautiful idea?" The journalist leaned forward in interest. "And this is a question directed towards aspiring photographers and designers; they want to know your take on inspiration."

"Well," Tomoyo smiled sweetly, "inspiration could be found anywhere. You just have to look around, see the beauty and the potential in the...things happening around you."

Eriol sniggered instantly, masking it as a cough when Tomoyo's sharp heels collided with his left foot. The journalist turned to him questionably, thinking that he might have something to add to Tomoyo's statement.

"It could be the people you're with," Eriol cleared his throat, straightening his back as Tomoyo's heel dug deeper into his foot. "or just anything, like Tomoyo said. Rather than seeing the world, one should rather observe the world. Then, they'll find inspiration."

"Okay, then, congratulations again." The journalist was wrapping up. She stood up, brushing down her pencil skirt, and reached out a hand to shake her audience's. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me." She paused long enough to hear both designer and photographer respond with their 'no problem's and 'you're welcome's. She continued as she gathered her things."Make sure to look for your editorial with this interview following right after it on the March issue of Vogue."

"Thank you." Tomoyo smiled charmingly in farewell.

"No, thank you." The journalist responded with an equally polite smile before she turned around to strut off.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Tomoyo turned to her partner in the project and slapped him on the shoulder.

Eriol dodged her blow, playfully glaring at her. "I think my foot has suffered enough without my shoulder joining the pain club."

"And I think you're a masochist by the way you're acting!" Tomoyo lifted her chin haughtily, huffing at him. "I told you not to be obvious."

Eriol scoffed, bending down to grab the drinks they brought out for their guest. He changed the subject, knowing full well it was fruitless to argue with the Tomoyo Daidouji. As he headed towards the kitchen, he called over his shoulder. "How do you think they'll react anyway? 'Aw, we look so cute together, let's make up!'"

When there was no response, Eriol dropped the glasses on the kitchen island, popping his head to glance in the living room. "Tomoyo?"

Her Amethyst eyes were pointed at the ceiling, her bottom lip jutting out as she thought deeply. After a prolonged pause, her eyes lowered to meet Eriol's inquiring gaze. "It just takes one, Eriol. Just one to make the first move and it'll get better from there." She smiled brilliantly at him.

Eriol understood why so many were dazzled by the young fashion designer.

One Month Ago

"You owe me a favor." Tomoyo tilted her head, frowning (hopefully morosely) at her best friend.

"Don't you dare pull that card on me." Sakura growled uncharacteristically.

Her best friend shifted her eyes upward as if pleading the skies for help. "It's just a couple hours...each day...and a few days...a week." Tomoyo's voice was fading as she continued and Sakura's face was turning harder and colder.

"No!" Sakura slammed her palm down adamantly. Rather than looking ferocious and fierce as she had hoped, she looked rather adorable to her best friend. "I refuse to breathe the same air as that- as that-"

"Handsome guy?" Tomoyo offered with a hint of amusement on her otherwise serious face. "Charming fellow?"

"-loathsome - um - um - hateful jerk!" Sakura finished, struggling for words. She scowled at her unsupportive best friend.

"How bad could it be?" Tomoyo shrugged nonchalantly, stirring her drink. "I mean, you exchanged saliva a few-"

"No!" To say Sakura was blushing would be an understatement.

"So you didn't?" Tomoyo feigned confusion. "Weird. Then who was that brown haired, golden-eyed guy you were-"

"Yes!"

"So you will do the shoot?" Amethyst eyes brightened considerably, her hands coming round to clasp together. "Aw, Sakura, I knew you'd come arou-"

"No, no, no, no." Sakura shook her head wildly, her strawberry blonde locks creating a golden hurricane round her head. Her eyes were determinedly stubborn as also indicated by the set of her lips. "I am not doing a photoshoot with stupid, annoying, asshole Syaoran Li. Anything, anyone but him."

"Anything?" A glint appeared in Tomoyo's eyes.

The look on Sakura's face rivalled that of a mouse caught in a trap. For fear of worsening the situation - as she always ended up doing - Sakura slammed her mouth shut.

Tomoyo frowned. "I made those designs for you, Sakura." She deflated in her chair. "Will you at least model them?"

"Without him." Sakura nodded softly.

Defeated, Tomoyo consented.

Two hours later, Eriol dragged Syaoran to the same exact coffee shop and plopped him down in front of a calm Tomoyo. He proceeded to plop himself down next to the amethyst eyed designer.

Syaoran was just as adamant.

In a dark growl, Syaoran gritted out, "I refused to breathe the same air as her!"

Tomoyo frowned, placing her chin in her hand. "That's what she said."

Syaoran blinked, glancing between Eriol and Tomoyo. "I don't get it."

"I meant it literally!" Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter. No wonder Sakura-" She caught Syaoran's interested gaze. He swore there was a slight smirk on her face when she shook her head, "nevermind."

Syaoran tried not to mind at all. He redirected the conversation. "I'm not doing it."

"But I spent sleepless days and months designing those clothes! Male and female together!" Tomoyo's voice was close to a whine.

"Why don't you get Touya to do it?"

"You would suggest her brother." Eriol muttered.

"But he has bigger shoulders than you," Tomoyo pouted, "and a wider torso, and longer -"

"-don't you dare finish that sentence-"

"-legs." Tomoyo blinked all too innocently. "What?"

Eriol sniggered and Syaoran shot him a glare.

"Solo." Syaoran assumed the tone of voice his father would use at board meetings. "Or not at all."

Tomoyo puffed out her cheeks, deflating defeatedly. She glanced once at Eriol's raised eyebrow before turning back to Syaoran. "Fine."

When the glass door ringed again, departing his leave, Eriol turned to Tomoyo. "Two photoshoots? Separately?" He asked skeptically. She could tell through his calculating gaze that he was already churning dollar values and hours to be put into this project. He frowned. "You know you can only enter in one editorial for the Vogue magazine spread contest."

"I know." Tomoyo responded lightly - and this was alarming to Eriol, because when she responds to serious things so carelessly is when one needs to be on guard - as she stirred her drink. "I'll make it work." Now there was a real smirk on her face as she pulled out her sketchbook. She, of course, had already seen this coming - and she was ready for it. Flipping to a page, she scooted the sketchbook over so that Eriol could peer at it.

After a long moment, Eriol matched her smirk. "Tomoyo, you sly dog."

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Let it be known that the following disclaimer applies to the entire story.

Disclaimer: characters used belong to CLAMP.