A/N: You know, I've been meaning to watch this series for a while. I'm very glad I did!

This is set post-manga, but may be slightly AU as I haven't read to the end of it yet. Usui and Misaki are somewhat together, but Usui is in England to study. Misaki is in Japan, but not for long...

One of the things I find interesting about this show is how Misaki and Usui fall in love...He subjects her to what could be called psychological torture to get her to like him, and what I wanted to do was write a story in which Misaki is able to do the same to Usui, but still keep them in-character.

Keep in mind that this story will bounce between Usui's POV and Misaki's POV, and that this may be continued if I'm in the mood.

I do not own Maid-Sama!

It's been a while since he's seen her. Too long, really.

Usui is sprawled on his couch-well, not quite. One arm is hooked around the back of it, socked foot pressing against the armrest. His glasses are askew, head almost touching the floor, and he looks like a complete idiot. He doesn't really care. It's impossible to get comfortable nowadays.

Right now, he's in his London apartment. He'd decided not to go for a penthouse, but had still managed to get a highly comfortable place. He doesn't spend much time here-his family is up in Cumbria amid lakes and Wordsworthian cottages, and he himself is studying economics and management in Oxford.

Right now, the lecturers are mired in placements and revision, but Usui has managed to get an exemption, based on his stellar grades and the amount of time he has spent working in international conglomerates with his family. He has spent the past week in London, knowing that the house in Oxford will be wrecked when he comes back-he had left it in the care of a friend who seemed to be planning house parties before he even left.

He hasn't been doing much, in all honesty, apart from people-watching in Hyde Park and spending too much time alone in museums...but the email he had received promised to change all that.

Superhuman Tag Team Member 2,

Usui! You finally have a reason to stop complaining and Skyping me when I'm asleep!

You know that Tokyo U has an Erasmus programme. I didn't know if I'd get into it or anything-but Professor Kawae made a case with the board! I couldn't get Oxford, but I got King's College instead! I know that their biomedical department is world-class, and Kawae says that I could learn far more, especially with my level of English, for which I blame you, alien.

Thing is, I've heard lots of horror stories about student housing over there... I know Usui will help me, even if he is a pervert, so do you mind if I crash at yours for a while? Just until I can get reliable accommodation, and I hope you'll help me with that too. My English is good, but you know I have trouble with the accents.

Please?

See you soon (hopefully!)

Misaki

Usui slides fully from the couch and grins dopily at the ceiling.

He had replied quickly.

Misa-chan,

I won't help you with the accommodation. You're staying with me for your entire stay in England. All I ask is that you bring your old work uniform...

Get your cute ass over here soon, okay?~

Usui x

Then she'd replied again.

Usui,

Perfect, you pervert.

PS: It was going to be in my suitcase anyways.

Misaki

He'd quickly thrown himself into preparations, cleaning the apartment and stocking up on food, both Japanese and English.

He had, however, neglected to fix the guest room. His bed was more than big enough.

In the midst of the roaring monster of Heathrow, Misaki feels small and strangely excited. She had managed to sleep for almost the entire 12 hour flight. No wonder; her mother had kept her busy, packing and re-packing her various bags, organising neighbourhood farewell parties and generally sobbing about her baby leaving.

Suzuna had given her a dictionary. Occasionally, she worried her.

Her friends in Tokyo had also decided to keep her far too busy making sure she had good memories to send her off, organising club crawls and indie concerts that were more booze than music. Misaki had drunk more alcohol in the past week than she had in her entire life. Maid Latte had also thrown a mini-party for her of reminiscing, laughing at Erika's tales of motherhood and avoiding Satsuki's knowing looks.

But now that was all over and Misaki was in England. Soon, the Japanese voices that had surrounded her for the duration of the trip began to fade into English. Misaki tried to stop panicking, instead trying to understand the voices around her.

"Finally, I missed youse...!"

"No, Mum, its okay, all I want now is some proper tea!"

"Daddy, look, can I get that teddy? It's only three pound..."

"So are we going straight to Jim's, or are we getting the tube to Liverpool Street and meeting him there?"

She smiled to herself. This was better, and her heart had had finally stabilised, but then, she looked up.

The webcam didn't do him justice. Somehow, Usui had managed to grow more handsome, his green eyes brighter and smile wider. He looked more like a model than ever, dressed in nothing more than a white shirt, rumpled jeans and well worn tan shoes.

He raised one hand, mouth curling into a smirk.

Misaki began to walk towards him, but remembered her abandoned luggage. She sighed and darted back to get it, chastising herself. She saw him for the first time in so long and her brain turned into goo. Inexcusable, but... she couldn't blame herself too much. She really had missed him. Sure, emailing and texting were brilliant, but what she really wanted was to punch him in real life.

She didn't know what else she wanted.

Finally, she managed to haul everything up to him, ignoring the people watching them.

Looking up at him, she tried to think of something witty to say, like 'Hey, these are heavy! Take some, idiot!' or 'You look like an idiot smiling like that.'

"Hi," she squeaked, breathlessly.

"Hey," he answered, taking a bag dangling from her arm and transferring it to his. "How was the flight?"

"I mostly slept." She answered, looking up at the flickering signs, orange text scrolling too fast for her untrained eyes to read. "Were you waiting long?"

"No, just a few minutes." He shifts the bag on his arm as he deftly takes another from her grasp. "Shall we go?"

He promptly walks away, leaving Misaki to stumble in his wake.

It doesn't take them long to reach the station and descend the steep escalator. The platform is packed with people, their voices echoing in the underground cavern.

"So..." Misaki begins, unsure of what to say.

"Yes?" He inclines his head towards her gently, face blank.

"How long will it take us to get to your place?"

"Hmm... nothing more than half an hour. But if you want the journey to go quickly..." Suddenly, he is well within her personal space, chin brushing against her neck. "I can help you."

Misaki shocks forward, easily registering the implications of his words, realising too late that if she doesn't stop now she will step straight off the edge of the platform. Quickly, Usui's arm shoots out and curls around her waist. "Mind the gap," He whispers into her hair, and his statement is repeated seconds later by a tinny voice as a train speeds into the tunnel with a screech and gush of wind.

Misaki breathes heavily, people brushing past her to flood the train. Usui prods the small of her back and she steps robotically onboard, legs guiding her to a seat. Usui flops gracefully into the seat opposite her, having stowed her bags in a matter of moments.

She presses her face to the window to let it cool down before she speaks again. "You haven't changed a bit," she says, trying not to let her face show how flustered she feels.

"You have," Usui says coolly, letting his eyes graze her body. She doesn't reprimand him, knowing that his statement is true, instead stretching a little. She isn't a little girl anymore, wearing shapeless clothes. Misaki knows the power of thin tops and tight jeans. She smiles inwardly as Usui's eyes refocus on her chest as the fabric of her top is strained by her stretching limbs.

This is not the only way she's changed. Misaki knows how to play the game Usui has tortured her with for years. He's still better than her, but she enjoys this, the strange feeling of power over him.

"So you're a D now? " Usui says, still taking her in.

She kicks his leg. She hasn't changed that much.

When Usui unlocks the apartment door, it is well and truly night.

"You're so high up..." Misaki mumbles, peering round his shoulder into the dark room.

"I like heights." Usui says simply, and pushes the door open wider so she can struggle through. He would have swept her up in a bridal lift and carried her across the threshold but for the myriad bags weighing them down.

He flicks on the lights and watches Misaki's jaw drop. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Well, humble isn't what he'd describe his London home as. The main room is floored with dark hardwood, and the walls are painted dove grey, with strips of pale gold wallpaper breaking it up irregularly. A soft leather couch dominates the room, and a wall of windows displays a glittering nocturnal panorama of London.

The room isn't cluttered, but it is nowhere near as sparse as his old apartment back in Japan. The low coffee table is marked with rings (he has a habit of slopping his tea and coffee out of the cup, leading to the blemishes on the otherwise perfect wood), thick rugs are scattered on the floor, and pictures and paintings parade on the walls. A huge bookcase is crammed with books and magazines and trinkets, and a chess table with the pieces spelling out a rude word is shoved in the corner. A flatscreen TV is sunken into the wall, DVDs and game consoles spilling from the shelves.

Misaki walks towards the windows tentatively, finger tracing the outline of Big Ben as it chimes. A smile spreads across her face as the bells ring in harmony.

"Nostalgic, huh?" He walks forward to stand beside her. She nods, and turns her face to smile at him.

They stay like that in silence for a moment indulging in high school memories, both in and out of Seika.

Usui breaks the silence. "You hungry?"

"If you're cooking..."

"It'll just be some leftovers. Spaghetti bolognese okay?"

"At this point, I'd eat anything." Her stomach rumbles in agreement. Usui snickers and ruffles her hair.

"I'll go get it. Make yourself at home. The bathroom's down that way, and just past it is the bedroom." Usui turns around and makes his way into the kitchen, yanks the door of the fridge open and sticks his face in there. He stays still until he hears the door of the bathroom close softly, and only then does he withdraw his head and sigh.

He'd known to expect some change, but...not this much. She was taller now and curvier as well, he thinks, as he recalls the image of her back arching, breasts straining against the thin fabric of her top, its lifting hem revealing a strip of tanned stomach. Dangerous thoughts, but ones he welcomes; is he not a pervert?

But she'd enjoyed his reaction. She had smirked as he'd stared at her. In a way, she had defeated him for the first time.

This thought puts him on edge, but excites him too. He likes Misaki as he remembers her, with her blushing cheeks and nervous stammering and compete innocence and naiveté...but he likes this one too, the new Misaki, with waist length hair and a slight smile that knows how to push him. The old one was still there, though. He hoped she'd remain; he had to win sometimes.

He shakes his head and gets to work, pulling plates out of a cupboard and setting the food to reheat in the microwave.

Misaki marvels at the bathroom as she washes her hands.

The floor is entirely black marble, a sunken bath in the corner-no, not a bath, a Jacuzzi. A shower stands nearby, buttons running down the side denoting various settings. In front of Misaki is a large, spotless mirror, reflecting her frazzled face back at her. The room is lit dimly with golden light.

She knew Usui liked his human comforts, but...this bathroom was an interior designer's wet dream. Hell, the entire apartment was, as far as she could see!

She didn't want to leave the palatial room, but she had to eventually.

Next, she peeks into the kitchen. This room was amazing too; sleek appliances that must have cost at least a kidney, counters made of gleaming granite, Swiss knives lying carelessly next to the stove. Usui was buried in a cupboard from the waist up, humming as he pawed around looking for something. Misaki restrained a giggle and tore her gaze away from his behind (which was very much on display) and decided to go look at the bedroom.

She pauses before the door, not sure what to think. This is Usui's bedroom, and in there, there could be anything. She imagines four poster beds draped with rugs, or maybe a circular rotating bed, or even...

She tries to push the unbidden image of Usui happily wearing a gag and far too much leather from her mind and pushes the door open.

The room is carpeted in gray pile, walls a slate blue. A desk piled with books and a humming laptop is to her immediate left. To her right, a violin case leans against an averagely sized wardrobe. Right in front of her is the main feature, a king sized bed with cream sheets and dark pillows. It isn't as ostentatious as she would expect, but... the bed is inviting, and Misaki is tired. She'll knows that she'll probably regret it, but in a fluid movement she leaps onto the bed.

The first thing is its smell; it smells of Usui, of cologne and chocolate and sweat. It warms her immediately. The bed is insanely comfortable, and she cuddles down and lets out a little mewl of pleasure.

She dozes slightly, but is roused by somebody calling her name.

"Misaki? The food's up."

"Coming!" she says loudly, and leaps out of Usui's bed just as the man himself pushes the door ajar. She smoothes her clothes down inconspicuously, but doesn't miss Usui's eyes flickering from the bed to her mussed hair, and his mouth curling into a half-smirk.

As she walks out the door, he blocks her way out, leans down to her ear and says "If you want to test it out later... I am completely fine with that." He straightens out and gives her a full-blown smirk. "I'd like to eat first, though."

Misaki leans into him. "If I were you," she breathes, "I'd have made up the couch already." She pulls back and smiles brightly.

"Not a chance," he huffs, as he ushers her up the hall with his hand on her back.

Usui saunters back in from the kitchen to find Misaki reclining on the couch, absentmindedly swirling her glass of wine.

"Good?" he asks, regarding her with a blank face.

"Delectable. Tell me, do you put LSD in it or something?" Her eyes are brighter now, satiated by the food.

"The secret ingredient...is love!" He winks and she huffs a little.

"But seriously, leftovers shouldn't taste that good."

He sits down beside her and relaxes into the leather. Why is he so tired? Today shouldn't have been taxing; all he'd done earlier on was go over some reports for his father, but being around Misaki was draining. He forgotten how much so, how much self-control she made him exercise, how he was compelled to carry for her what he could. What was new was the mental sparring. Usually, it took no effort to make her do exactly what he wanted, to make her shiver or stiffen, make her blush or box him. Now, Misaki was fighting back.

"You look tired." Misaki places the glass on the table and turns to him, eyes searching.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing his eyes after he pulls off his glasses. "I am. To the bone."

She looks at him for a while, her face struggling through barely visible emotions. "Damn it," she sighs, and in a swift movement yanks his head down to thump into her lap. She leans over him and pulls his long legs onto the couch. Unconsciously, he kicks off his shoes.

Misaki smiles nervously down at him, the beginning of a blush tinting her cheeks, and begins to pull her fingers through his hair. "I've never forgotten the times you did this for me and I remember how good it felt... Please let me return the favour."

Usui is stunned beyond thought.

"I could get used to this," he manages to say. He could, he really really could.

She smiles and tugs at the short, downy hair at the nape of his neck. "I could too."

Usui doesn't hear these words; he is already fast asleep.

As for the Big Ben thing, the Windsor Chimes (aka Big Ben's ringing sound) are usually used as the school bell in Japan. I think you hear it once in the anime.

Do review, please. ~Gryfo