Disclaimer: All characters mentioned belong to Naoko Takeuchi. The lyrics belong to Ingrid Michaelson. Yes, this is still shoujo-ai. You have been warned!


What to cook, what to wear, I think the house is clean, gods I need to calm down. After their comfortably intimate moment, Mako pulled Ami up and kept Ami's left hand in her right as she led the way back to her wagon. Her warm calloused palm held the slender future doctor's hand gently, giving Ami enough pressure to know that Mako didn't want to let go but not enough pressure to stop Ami from pulling away if she wanted. But Ami didn't want to, and both enjoyed the feeling of another's hand in their own.

The day had nearly turned to dusk, and they agreed Ami would walk over to Mako's surprisingly close house at seven so Mako could focus on cooking. Mako dropped Ami off at a strangely familiar on-campus community housing building with directions to Mako's nearby house, and immediately felt her insecurities taking over her normally rational mind as she drove home. Where was her calm, cool, collected self when Mako needed her?

She parked her car in the driveway then raced inside, giving the modest two-story home a thorough once-over to assure that neither she nor Setsuna had left anything out of place, not that Sets would be the kind of woman to do that, but Mako wasn't giving anybody the benefit of the doubt. Her luck, today would be the day Sets finally twigged and carried through on one of her running threats to decorate the living room with her favorite erotic paintings or something. Nope, the living room looked the same as it did this morning. Where was Setsuna, anyway? She rarely went out on Sundays. Mako stopped her pell-mell dash in front of the notepad on the fridge, where, sure enough, was a note from the missing woman.

Mako, A dear old friend is in town and we went out for the evening. I won't be home until tomorrow, 9am. You enjoy your night, too! Love, Sets

What the hell? Sets had a...date? She was going to be gone all night? And what did she mean, enjoy my night? Even though Sets is scary-good at knowing when things were happening in my life, there is no way she could know about Ami. Mako checked the kitchen clock: 5:51. I haven't even known about Ami for three hours yet! Seriously, Mako, get a hold of yourself. You have other things to worry about. The house is fine. And holy crap it's almost six!

With that thought, Mako snapped back to reality and the rather pressing situation of what to make for dinner. Diving from cupboard to fridge to pantry, the evening's menu solidified in her mind. She took a deep breath and found the calm that had evaded her previously. The kitchen was her domain: cooking had always been something she enjoyed, a skill she enjoyed perfecting. She grabbed her apron and set to work.


Ami, meanwhile, had sprinted for her third-floor suite as soon as Mako's car had disappeared around the corner. To arrive at Mako's by seven meant she had less than an hour to get ready! Taking the stairs two at a time, she mentally rifled through her wardrobe. Jeans? Another skirt? She had a plethora of dress shirts and skirts as they comprised the majority of her typical apparel, but she wanted to look special; she wanted to show Mako she really cared. She reached the door and let herself in to the suite she shared with Michiru, a senior double majoring in art and music. Ami asked Michiru, when she first found out she was assigned to live with a senior, why Michiru still lived on campus, and Michiru just gave her a smile and said she liked being near the University's pool. As the year progressed they discovered they had quite a bit in common, and Michiru became someone Ami turned to when she needed advice. Michiru, for her part, felt somewhat protective of Ami and enjoyed playing the part of an older sister.

"Michiru! Are you home?" Ami called. Hearing no answer, Ami took Michiru's silence to mean the senior was not behind her closed bedroom door. Ami shrugged as she continued down the hall to her own room. Oh well, I guess I won't ask her opinion of what I should wear. I just need to calm down, then I'll be fine. And I know how to do that.

The first thing Ami did when she entered her tidy room was waken her sleeping laptop and click on her music files. Favorites, playlists, there: Keep Breathing. The first quiet guitar strings, the piano harmony, joined by the evocative voice of Ingrid Michaelson. Ami stepped back from her computer, closed her eyes and gave herself over to the peaceful music emanating from her speakers. The lyrics draped around her like a warm comforter and her quiet voice gained strength with the chorus, to crescendo in unison with the music. "All that I know is I'm breathing, All I can do is keep breathing, All we can do is keep breathing, Now all we can do is keep breathing..." Ami, her calm restored once again, headed for her shower, still humming the final chords as her computer dutifully switched to Yo-yo ma's cello suites.

Ten minutes later a freshly-showered naked Ami stood in front of her dresser, facing a dilemma she hadn't considered until this very second of need. What kind of undergarments should she wear? I want her to think I'm sexy. But I don't want her to think I'm a slut. Gah! This is the first date! Why am I even concerned with underwear? And the devil on her shoulder piped up with a very convincing argument: because it's been so long, she makes you wet, and you don't really want to be the prim one tonight. A decidedly devious glint sparked in Ami's eyes at the sight of the matching bra and panties shoved in the far corner of her drawer. Perfect. Now for the rest of the clothes.

After spending twenty minutes emptying her closet and trying outfit after outfit, Ami stood in front of her mirror, appraising her decided outfit. Knee-high black leather boots; favorite patchwork short denim skirt; black and silver twisted belt; white short-sleeve blouse, unbuttoned to show just a hint of the swell of her breasts; black and silver choker; and to complete the outfit, a black and silver rose clip artfully holding her sweeping bangs out of her face. Ami felt her face warm as she surveyed the girl in the mirror. I actually look...hot. Gods I hope Mako thinks so, too.

"Well aren't you all dressed up?" Michiru's teasing voice broke Ami's concentration and she looked up to see her suitemate leaning against the open door of her bedroom.

"Michiru! When did you get home?" Ami's mind raced as she wondered how much of her naked antics her roommate had seen.

"Just a few minutes ago. You must have been too absorbed to hear me announce my arrival," Michiru explained, gesturing at the clothes strewn about the usually meticulous room. "If I didn't know any better I'd say my little Ami has a date tonight."

"Ah ...Yes, I actually do." Ami met Michiru's surprised eyes, and answered the question she saw in the raised eyebrows. "And you didn't know I liked anybody...because I didn't know it myself, until about 3:30 today."

If Ami had said she was quitting school to join the circus Michiru wouldn't have been more surprised. Ami was serious, scholastic, but not spontaneous, and she certainly didn't accept blind dates. The girl Michiru had been living with had never shown interest in anyone the entire year and Michiru knew Ami had been approached several times by hopeful people of both genders. Ami politely declined each time, and seemed oblivious her distant nature coupled with her brilliant marks only served to increase her notoriety. Michiru, popular in her own circles, respected Ami's privacy and never fueled nor mentioned the growing buzz about Ami to her withdrawn suitemate. But, Michiru was curious: who was this mystery person who finally caught the attention of the up-and-coming Ami Mizuno?

"Well I wouldn't be a good suitemate if I didn't pepper you with questions and try to ascertain this person's true intentions, but it seems we both are under something of a time crunch," Michiru stated with a gentle smile. "So I will restrain myself to three nosy questions." She winked at Ami, who laughed. "How did you meet this person?"

"I met Makoto in the coffee shop downtown, actually she caught me staring at her and then she asked if I wanted to go for a walk, and we did, and then she invited me over for dinner."

Michiru's eyes softened slightly. It was a girl. Ha, she had been correct in her feelings about Ami. And as for Makoto...why did that name seem familiar? "Do you feel safe with her?"

Ami blushed. "Yes, I do."

"What does she do?"

"She's a river guide during the summer and works as a rescue person during the off-season."

Michiru felt her world shift, slightly. That's why the name was familiar! "She's a river guide? Is her last name Kino?"

Ami started. "How did you know that?"

"You know my girlfriend Haruka, right?" Michiru asked. Ami nodded. She had seen Haruka and Michiru together several times, but never had a chance to talk to the tall blonde. "She also guides, and she works with a girl by that name. The Makoto Haruka works with is polite, strong, courageous, but strictly a loner. I actually met her for the first time last month. Haruka and I were out with some other couples and we lost track of time; before we knew it the bar was closed, we were standing on the sidewalk in the rain, and we all were way too tipsy to find our cars, let alone drive. 'Ruka pulled out her cell phone and announced she was going to call a ride for all of us, and not five minutes later this grumpy girl in a giant station wagon pulled up to the curb and took all of us to our homes. That was how I met Makoto Kino."

Ami had sat down on her bed to listen to Michiru's story. "Mako told me about that! Or at least, she told me she does that for her friends."

"She's got a heart of gold, Ami. 'Ruka's been trying for over a year now to get Mako to loosen up, but maybe Mako just needed to meet the right person. "

Ami blushed. "We'll see. She's cooking for me. I mean, she invited me over for dinner at seven." Ami looked up at her beautiful older suitemate. "I haven't wanted to go on a date in a really long time, Michiru. And it's not even that it's a date, it's that it's a date with Mako. There's just something about her that makes me feel...whole again."

Michiru could feel her eyes moisten at Ami's heartbreakingly honest words. She walked over and sat down beside Ami and pulled her into a tight hug. "When I first saw Haruka I loved her the moment our eyes met. Sometimes it's rocky, but it's worth it." Michiru broke the hug with one last squeeze and held Ami at arm's length, peering into her bright eyes. "If you ever need anything, Ami, call me. I'll be there for you. Until then, get your butt moving! It's almost 6:30, and I have my own date to prepare for tonight."

"Ok, Mom." Ami stuck her tongue out at Michiru, both of them laughing as they stood up, hugging once again. Michiru headed to her room to shower and change, and Ami went to put on some makeup feeling happier, more at peace. She hadn't realized Michiru cared for her so much. It almost feels as if a layer of ice had encircled my heart, and now, because of Mako, it's melting, one drip at a time.


One block down, four blocks over, two blocks down, and Ami found herself standing in front of a cozy-looking two story home, Mako's blue beast parked in the driveway. She checked her slender silver watch: 6:57. Figuring she'd look less the fool showing up a few minutes early than loitering on the front lawn, Ami walked to the front door and rang the bell. She could hear the chime echoing inside the house, as well as what sounded like someone crashing down a staircase. Ami hid a small smile behind her hand. I guess that's the proverbial herd of elephants. Suddenly the door flung open and a breathless Mako gasped, "Ami! You made it!"

"Mako..." Ami felt her greeting wither on her lips as she gazed at the vision standing in the open door. Mako's pony-tailed damp hair betrayed a very recent shower, and her dark purple dress shirt with the long sleeves rolled up above her elbows rested unbuttoned over what Ami suspected was Mako's trademark tank top. But the clincher was the luscious pair of form-fitting torn jeans. Definitely not baggy shorts, these jeans grabbed where Ami wanted to. Ami actually had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking Mako to turn around.

Mako, for her part, looked as if she was doing her best impression of the Cheshire Cat. Her cheeks hurt, she was grinning so widely, because Ami looked so. Damn. Good. The boots, the denim, the hint of cleavage—the faint buzz of an expired timer brought her back to reality, and her eyes grew huge. "Shit! The edamame!" She turned and darted down the hallway, calling over her shoulder, "Please come in, Ami! You look great!"

Ami couldn't tear her eyes away from the retreating backside; Mako was out of sight before Ami gingerly stepped across the threshold and shut the front door. She leaned back against the dark oak door, catching her breath and trying to slow her rushing blood before sedately following the path Mako took down the hallway. Sounds of grumbling and the clinking of pans on a stovetop indicated to Ami she had reached her destination. The sight of Mako bent over the stove made the efforts to cool her boiling blood in vain; Ami wanted nothing more than to jump the gorgeous woman in front of her. Frantically casting her gaze about for something, anything to distract her, she saw a pair of stools facing each other across a breakfast bar set for two. She gracefully perched on the far stool; safely barricaded behind the counter she let herself appreciate the view. She had been totally right. Mako had one fine ass. "You look great, too, Mako."

"Especially with the chef's accessory: my trusty apron." Sure enough, Mako had thrown on a worn apron before she had returned to her cooking duties, Ami saw. Mako darted a dazzling smile at Ami, glad the heat from the stove gave a plausible reason for the blush on her cheeks. "Sorry it's so hot in here, I didn't get a window cracked in time." From the looks of the blush on Ami's cheeks, Ami appreciated the excuse, too. At ease in her domain, Mako felt up to light conversation. "Dinner is almost ready; we're just really waiting on the rice. Here's an edamame appetizer—it's a Japanese theme tonight. Sorry I don't have anything besides water to drink, though."

Ami smiled at the eager chef and accepted the dish. Mako really was considerate. Michiru's words popped back into Ami's mind. Heart of gold...Loved her the moment our eyes met...Was this love? Or just a mutual simmering attraction? "I like Japanese. I don't like Sake, so I'm ok with just water. I must warn you, though, I am lethal with chopsticks."

Mako laughed. "My housemate-landlady-mother-substitute Setsuna loves Japanese as well—which is why I had all this stuff on hand—but she has issues with chopsticks. She has to focus so much attention on every bite, I always threaten to finish the dishes before she finishes three bites. Of course, she says she does it on purpose as an effective diet plan, but that's crap and we both know it. Now it's just a running joke."

"Setsuna Meioh?" Ami's interest was peaked. "The professor?"

"Yep, that's Sets. I knew her from before my parents died. She was always there for me, but I hated being dependent on anybody. I still do. A few years back she finally convinced me to live with her here when I'm not on the river or in the field, and since I could pay rent at that point, I accepted. She's the only person I've trusted, since before. I'd do anything for her." Mako's passion was evident in her voice, as was her love and respect for the young professor.

"I know Setsuna; I took an elective fashion design course from her my first semester. I figured being a doctor and all, learning how to sew a straight line might come in handy. I actually designed and made this skirt in her class."

"I like your skirt." Mako coughed, slightly. "I like how you look in that skirt." Mako met Ami's gaze and the unspoken I'd also like you out of that skirt hung in the air, fueling the tension building in their eyes. "She made this apron for me!" Mako blurted. "See?" Mako moved closer to Ami, and sure enough, over her left breast was a beautifully embroidered rose, with the words "Makoto Kino, Queen of the Kitchen" embroidered in cursive script beside it.

"Queen of the Kitchen?" Ami, feeling a boldness she didn't know she possessed, held her right hand out and traced the words and the flower, her touch barely grazing the breasts behind the light fabric of the apron.

Mako had to stifle a moan when Ami reached out to touch her. Frozen in place, she couldn't do anything but accept the gentle caress and attempt to force her voice to work. "A-an-other running joke, when I am here I am in charge of cooking, it's just safer that way for all concerned." The strident beep of the rice cooker broke the frozen tableau, and with a whirl Mako resumed her position of chef.

Before Ami knew what was happening, Mako placed two cups of miso soup, two plates of salad, a plate of cold soba noodles, a large bowl of steamed rice, a plate of tempura shrimp and vegetables, and two sides of dipping soya sauce between the two place settings. She whipped off her apron and hung it behind the pantry door before moving once again beside the breakfast bar. Mako bowed. "Dinner is served."

Ami laughed at Mako's antics, and Mako quirked a grin as she slid onto the stool across from Ami. "It feels good to sit down! Ok, so, anything on the table you need explained?"

"No," Ami replied. "I've even had the soba noodles before."

"I knew I should have gone all-out!" Mako exclaimed in mock sadness.

"Mako, this IS all-out. Thank you very much." Ami held up her water glass. "To my Mako, the best chef around." She felt her ears burning at the slip of her tongue, but she didn't correct herself or let her glass waver.

Mako couldn't quite believe her ears as she clinked her water glass against Ami's upraised glass, but she went with it. Keeping her own glass raised, she looked the blushing girl in the eye and made her own toast, "To today, the day you entered my life."They held their glasses together for an extra moment, then sipped and began their feast.

After she tried everything on the table and offered effusive praise—Mako really was an amazing chef—Ami started in with gusto. Mako, too, was pretty hungry at this point. Conversation lagged during the initial inhale, but soon the pace was a little more sedate and words could fit between bites.

"So where is Setsuna this evening?" Ami wondered out loud.

"She actually has a date tonight, I think. She's meeting with an old friend, but won't be home until tomorrow."

"So the house is ours tonight?" Ami raised an eyebrow at the suddenly red Mako.

"Yeah, the house is all ours. Whatever you decide you want to do. I have a lot of movies, or music, or we could do something else, we don't have to stay-"

Ami took pity on the babbling girl and cut in: "It seems like a good night for a date. My suitemate has one, too. Oh! I wanted to tell you, she is dating one of your fellow guides, Haruka."

"You live with Michiru?" Mako asked, surprised. "That would explain why your building was familiar! I dropped those two off sometime last month. It was late, I wasn't really paying attention, that's why I couldn't really remember."

"Actually, if the tale Michiru told was true, it was early, not late." Ami laughed. "You made quite the impression on her, might I add."

"Eehh," Mako shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? I promised to pick them up, but I never promised to look or act the best. I guess so much for a good first impression!"

Ami softened her chuckle. Poor Mako looked so chagrinned, picturing her two a.m. appearance. Ami imagined the sleepy Mako: bed head hair tied in a messy ponytail, rumpled tank top rubbing against bare nipples, low cut boxers under soft pajama pants. Thoughts of Mako in her underwear led to thoughts of Mako's bedroom and desire surged through Ami's mind, tightening her abdomen as she looked at the purple-clad chef with a different kind of hunger. Tonight, with you, I want to give in to my darker side. Impulsively Ami picked up a piece of shrimp tempura with her chopsticks, and dipping it in her soya sauce, she waited until she had Mako's attention before she deliberately licked one end and nibbled off half the piece before stretching her arm out and offering the rest to Mako.

Mako felt electricity immediately shoot from her heart to her center at Ami's bold challenge, all thoughts focused on the temptress sitting across the table. She looked at the shrimp then looked at Ami's lidded gaze before she quirked her mouth. Two could play this game. She leaned forward to emphasize her considerable breasts, and lowered her voice to a throaty flirt: "You know this is an indirect kiss in Japan."

"I know," Ami practically purred.

Oh gods. Mako held Ami's eyes as she slowly maneuvered to close her teeth around the offered bite. The pulsing in Mako's center matched each thrust of her jaw as she chewed the half shrimp, and Ami watched the lines of Mako's throat flex as she swallowed. "That," Mako practically growled as she slid sideways off her stool to stand beside the bar, "was delicious. But I think," and she stalked in two steps to Ami's side of the bar. "I want something more." Mako moved until she was behind Ami, placing her hands on the counter barring Ami within her embrace. "More..." Mako leaned in and twisted her head forward to splay her ponytail over Ami's trembling décolletage as she lowered her mouth to the waiting right ear. "Direct."

Mako's hovering mouth struck lightening through Ami's quivering body. Ami felt that bolt break into thousands of zaps of electricity and bounce back and forth between Mako's encircling arms and draped pony tail, sliding over and through Ami's bare skin to her core. The only thought behind her desire-drunk eyes was that Mako, when she wanted something, was a force to be reckoned with. And Ami had the distinct feeling she was something—somebody—Mako wanted. She had never felt this aroused, had never wanted someone to take her so badly. Mako was power, strength, and Ami needed her. Her damp panties were definitely now soaked.

"What—what happened to the gentleman?" Ami managed to croak, leaning back into Mako's braced form, tilting her head to meet Mako's eyes.

"I left him in the Arboretum." A glint of hesitation appeared in Mako's green depths. "I could probably find him again if you'd like..."

"No," Ami emphatically protested. "No. I want this, with you. Tonight." Some last vestiges of the prim girl she usually was forced her to drop her head and pull away slightly from Mako's body. "I'm not really this kind of girl. I don't want you to think I do this. I've never done this before."

"...This?" Mako softly questioned.

"Gone this fast. But it has been awhile. I haven't...been with anyone since my high school girlfriend." Ami scooched her entire body around on the stool to face Mako. "Technically, I'm still a virgin. But I trust you. I feel as if I have been waiting for you." Ami ran both her hands up Mako's braced arms. "For who you are out here." As her hands came to rest over Mako's heart: "And in here."

Mako regarded the pure eyes of the slight woman captured in her embrace. She could feel the powerful surging of Ami's honesty as well as Ami's desire, and they both called to something sleeping in Mako, something that had been sleeping for far too long. Her inner battle was over before she even realized it began. Mako gave in. Ami was a kitten and a tiger and Mako wanted both of them. She spoke so softly it was almost a whisper. "I have never been with anyone I've loved. I...had some rough times, in the beginning, and I did some things I regret, but I was lucky and now it's been years since I've even wanted to be with anyone. But you, Ami, I don't just want, I feel as if I need you. As if you are my other half. I want to feel your heart beat, learn your soul, taste your body. I think we're meant to be together, and if it hadn't happened today, it was just a matter of time."

"Mako!" Ami flung her arms around Mako's neck and pulled the surprised brunette into a lip-crushing passionate kiss, her tongue easily defeating Mako's lowered defenses to take full command of her mouth. It was heaven, it was lightening and ice, and Ami broke it off, just as suddenly as she had initiated it. Both women were struggling to find air and both their eyes were clouded with renewed passion strengthen by the idea of love. Holding Mako's forehead to her own, Ami rasped, "I...want to...see your bedroom. Now."

And that would be the tiger. Mako smiled to herself as she took Ami's hand and led her up the stairs, the remains of dinner long forgotten.


AN- And this is all I can bring myself to write today. I don't think this story ever did truly become M, and for those who are disappointed by that, I apologize. Suffice to say I cannot write what I do not feel, and I refuse to shortchange either Ami and Mako or you, my dear readers. (Assuming there are some still out there.) This story about their fall together is complete; hopefully someday when I am in a more passionate mood I will write the consummation. When I do, I will add it as a separate one-shot. Thank you for reading, and may your ink never run dry.