The insane musings of the authoress: Despite the fact that I have discovered a new love for procrastination, I managed to start this chapter on a sensible day in order to meet my usual Sunday update target.

Yay me.

Disclaimer: I own not CCS.

Special thanks to: All the lovely reviewers beamsThanks for being kind about the travesty of a song : -) And your response is still overwhelming.

Extra-special thanks to: Sylphie, for not only being a great translator, but also a kick-ass friend. Love you!

Lily – happy birthday, babe!

Ciuline Ihmenjo and LynnMinmay – Ciuline-san gave me the title, and Lynn-san's theme of 'sojourn' gave me my summary. Thank you so much, you two! huggles

Review Reply to Ms./Mr Anonymous:

I received this review from a person known only as 'Anonymous'. And I quote – 'i know that what i'm about to say will affect my chances of me living tomorrowso here it is: i don't think that this story is THAT great. why do people likeit so much? i mean, compared to all the other stories out there... this is likeshit, but then again... it's just my opinion.'

I see you didn't leave a name or contact information, clearly you are not completely stupid. I say that not because I would personally have tracked you down and hurled abuse at you, but because I know a few people who would (I'm looking very nervously at you, Sylph –grin-)

I respect your opinion wholeheartedly. In fact, I praise you for coming forward with it, even though you weren't willing to reveal yourself like a brave person who was proud of their opinion (and also despite the fact that I am the sort of person who believes in the philosophy 'if you can't say something nice…', but I respect that some people aren't like that).

However, I do have some quibbles – firstly, I have never claimed that 'Butterflies' or, indeed, its sequel, is any good. In fact, I constantly joke about the fact that they're little pieces of silliness and not very good pieces of silliness, at that. I am perfectly aware that this is not the best that the CCS fandom has to offer. I have always said that I am not setting out to win any prizes with them.

You asked why people like it so much. Well, I didn't ever ask anyone to like it. I think people like it because 'Butterflies' and 'Butterflies: In Spring' are not serious. When people have had a hard day, they don't like to read a piece of flowery, serious, plot-filled angst, no matter how pretty or eloquent it is.

I think people like 'Butterflies' because it's light and not a demanding thing to read. I think they like it because it never pretends to be what it's not, and I'd like to think I'm a nice authoress who's down to earth and very ordinary – my skills aren't intimidating, either. I have always found it's easier to like something if you don't hate the authoress, and I don't think people do hate me.

'Butterflies' and 'Butterflies: In Spring' are what they are. They're not to be taken seriously – they're not the best examples of my writing. They are here to give people a laugh, perhaps; or to provide them with fluffy moments without too much thought required. 'Butterflies' was something I started on a lark, to be honest. It's come a long way and people like it – people tell me it makes them happy, and what's wrong with that?

I am perfectly aware of the fact that there are better stories out there – I'm forever directing my readers to what I consider to be really good fanfiction – I have recommended Suppi-chan's 'Icebreakers' I don't know how many times. Suppi-chan is an example of someone who is at the top of her craft. I'm not, but the crucial thing is that I know that.

I must point out that I don't agree with this – 'compared to ALL THE OTHER stories out there, this is like shit…'. Although I will never claim to be the best out there, I know I'm not the worst. There are people who can't spell, or who can't format, or who can't punctuate or even form a proper sentence. My writing may not be the best in terms of plot or description or substance or whatever, but I pride myself on the fact that the technical side of it is pretty good – nobody has ever complained about my grammar, punctuation or spelling.

I'm sorry, but that comment was blatantly incorrect.

Anyway, thank you for expressing your opinion. I appreciate that.

(Sorry to bother you all with that!)

Some Questions Some Of You Had

What does Ueda look like?

A lot of you said you picture the typical balding, middle-aged boss when you think of him. However, Ueda is actually quite young (about twenty-eight) and has blonde hair and blue eyes. I think of him as being actually rather attractive (not in the same league as Syaoran, unfortunately) but he's one of those people whose kindness just shines out of his face. He's a very nice, very good, very pleasant man. He is also, however, prone to worrying and a little dense about things.

Will this arc be as long as the first?

PLEASE GOD NO! Ahem What I meant was, no, it won't be (or I would surely die of exhaustion by the end, and all you readers would have withered away with boredom). It should be about fourteen chapters in total, or at least, that's my target. I'll probably go over by a few chapters, especially since I have an epilogue planned.

Was Syaoran going to say 'I'd still love you' to Sakura?

To be succinct, no. He hasn't realised that yet. I realise that I probably misled you on that one, but at no point in the previous chapter was he going to say 'I'd still love you.' Sorry! (But good things come to those how wait, readers! smile)

I have noticed there appears to be less humor in this arc…

An observation, not a question, but we'll go with it. Yes, some of you may have noticed that this arc isn't even classified as 'Romance/Humor', it is just 'Romance'. This arc is going to be more serious. I think we'll be getting closer to the characters being sad than them making us laugh, to be honest. We're hardly going to make it to major angst (come on, this is Butterflies!), but I don't think there will be as much humor in this arc.

Butterflies: In Spring

Chapter Three

Cold Shower

Sakura and Syaoran moved their belongings into the master bedroom that night, though Yelan wasn't due to arrive until the day after the next day.

It was rather weird, Sakura had to admit to herself as she watched Syaoran move her things for her, to think that they would be sleeping in the same bed while Yelan was here.

It was even weirder to see her toothbrush beside Syaoran's in the ensuite bathroom. She couldn't quite pinpoint why the sight was so weird, but it was. Perhaps it was the domesticity of it.

Or perhaps it was the weird swooping feeling she got in her stomach when she caught sight of it.

Really, Sakura thought to herself as she shook her head and lifted some of her clothes out of the cardboard box they were temporarily in, this marriage thing was making her stranger by the day.

Still, she couldn't stop herself from firmly closing the door to the bathroom.

…

Later that night, clad in her nightgown and a pair of pajama bottoms (Syaoran had actually been offering to lend her a pair of his that she had been coveting furiously because they were so soft, but the thought of wearing them had given her that stupid feeling again, so she had declined, and was wearing a pair of her own), Sakura stood in the bedroom, looking at the massive bed.

Just looking at it, and standing still, at the foot of it.

She was lost in myriad confusing thoughts. Syaoran was still downstairs, probably eating his usual bedtime snack.

She couldn't stop herself from thinking about things. The things that had been bothering her lately – the fact that they needed to get furniture delivered, and the fact that the rooms needed painted.

And, if she was honest with herself, about how things had changed. Her head was being bombarded with thoughts about everyone else's lives – how they were all going about conventional engagements, conventional relationships, getting married and having kids and being properly in love, and…

Here she was, on some bizarre charade.

The thought was so harsh and unavoidable she wanted to cry.

Or laugh.

The emotions running through her were at once both bewildering and overwhelming, and, with the strange feeling that the thoughts going through her mind were making her very head heavy, she sat down on the edge of the bed.

Now, she thought to herself, should I cry, or laugh, or both?

…

Syaoran opened the bedroom door groggily, practically half-asleep already, but he was startled awake by the sight of Sakura sitting on the bed (he couldn't quite call it their bed, for some reason). She was just sitting very still, hardly blinking.

"Are you okay?" he asked her concernedly when she didn't even react to his entrance. She jumped at the sound of his voice and was quick with reassurances.

"Yes, yes, fine! I was just thinking about something, I was only sitting for ten minutes or so. Goodness, I'm tired!"

Okay, slightly babbled reassurances, but reassurances nonetheless.

She got up hurriedly, like she had been scalded by the bedclothes, and went round to the side of the bed closest to her.

"Sakura…" he said, and she looked up again.

"What? I'm fine!" she said again, laughing, one hand clutching a corner of the comforter in preparation for turning it down.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, and she faltered for a second. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there.

And he noticed.

"Oh, just things. The rooms need painted, and your mother's coming. Unimportant, mundane things, really," she said, waving a hand like it was nothing.

He frowned. She was a good actress, but…

"If you're sure you're okay…" he said slowly. She nodded hurriedly.

"Okay, then," he said, turning to leave, "I'll be back in ten minutes, alright? I'm just going to go get changed."

…

When Syaoran returned, in ten minutes as promised, Sakura was in bed, under the covers, apparently asleep. Syaoran padded silently to her side across the carpeted floor and watched her for a second. Her eyelids were flickering just a little too much to be believable.

"Sakura?" he whispered into her ear. There was no response, but he was certain she was faking it. Her breathing was all wrong – not deep enough.

"Sakura," he said again, a little more insistently. She didn't stir. He trailed a fingertip absently over one of her cheeks, so lightly he was sure it had to be ticklish. Still no response.

For a second, Syaoran contemplated the wicked notion of waking 'Sleeping Beauty' with a kiss. But although that was a most lovely concept, he couldn't quite justify it to himself, so he settled for sighing and saying, "goodnight, Sakura."

Before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Syaoran climbed into bed beside his wife, and Sakura felt like a mark had been branded onto her forehead, where his kiss lingered and tingled.

…

The next morning dawned gorgeous and bright, just like the day before – an unusual double dose of good weather, considering it was November.

Syaoran had woken a good half hour before his alarm had had its chance to rudely awaken him like usual, and so he was taking advantage of the extra time he had to lie in bed…

And, okay, look at his wife.

Hardly a crime, after all, as they were married (albeit unconventionally). He just couldn't help but look at her – his gaze was drawn to her like a magnet, and for once, he could stare without fear of being caught. The lure was just too much to resist.

And he wasn't hurting her or anything. Or violating her, or taking advantage of her while she was asleep.

But maybe tracing the line of her collarbone with a fingertip was taking advantage. He hadn't meant to, you understand, but the soft pale skin was begging for it…

Now, Syaoran, a little voice in his head said, if you acted on the thoughts running through your head right now, that would be taking advantage of the situation.

What, just because maybe I want to kiss her there? He thought somewhat defensively.

And bite and suck and lick 'til you leave a mark, the other voice added. Syaoran flushed.

But don't you agree that a blood red mark would look striking against her pale skin…

You're salivating at the thought, aren't you? the voice asked somewhat smugly.

I am not! he protested.

Anyway, there's no way I'm going to let you give her a great big fat hickey, and while she's asleep, no less! the voice said.

Maybe I could wake her up and ask her first… Syaoran thought absently.

The voice didn't say anything. It didn't have to.

I'm being absurd, aren't I? Syaoran asked with a grin. It would be hilarious, though, wouldn't it, just to see her face…

Syaoran, you are not going to ask her if you can give her a hickey, whether you're pretending it's just for comedy's sake or not!

But I could pretend I was doing it to help make things more authentic! After all, a nice hickey would just help us look more like we're indulging in wild passion in true newlywed fashion!

There was silence for a few seconds.

Syaoran could have sworn he heard the voice sigh.

You're imagining the two of you indulging in wild passion, aren't you? it asked.

… I'm going to take a cold shower, Syaoran thought as he got up.

…

Damn that stupid voice, couldn't it just shut up!

You're acting like a horny teenager, you know, it said smugly. Syaoran groaned.

Just because I want to touch her, and kiss her, that makes me a horny teenager!

Well, that on its own doesn't, but the fact that you want to follow those two things up with tearing her clothes off and making passionate love to her… I'd say that makes you horny, at the very least.

Syaoran had no reply to that.

Yeah, that's right, you just keep under the spray, shower boy.

…

When Syaoran made it downstairs after an incredible amount of time in the shower, he vowed to keep himself under control. He was not going to let himself give in to decidedly more primitive urges.

However, he hadn't counted upon Sakura already being at the table, reading a newspaper and eating a slice of toast, still dressed in her nightclothes. One of the thin straps of her nightgown was hanging off her shoulder, completely exposing a pale shoulder that could have been carved out of pure white marble.

She looked decidedly ravishable, actually, with her face flushed and her hair in disarray like a man (in his imagination, it was of course himself) had run his fingers desperately through it in a fit of passion the night before.

And he himself found he had a sudden urge to pick her up and carry her upstairs for another round.

He drew a very deep, very shuddery breath.

He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Sakura looked up from her newspaper and smiled at him. Syaoran smiled back and made a wiping gesture at the corner of his mouth. Sakura laughed, said "oh! Whoops!" and swiped a fingertip over the smudge of butter.

God, she's so adorable…

"Good morning!" she chirped, laying her newspaper down on the table and taking a sip of orange juice. "How are you this morning?"

See, Syaoran, this is okay, it isn't awkward at all. You can be totally normal around her, no problem.

"Fine," he said, and somehow the command from his brain to make his voice sound normal got lost on the way to his mouth, for his voice was high-pitched and squeaky. He inwardly cringed and hoped he wasn't blushing.

The squeaky tone was such a sharp contrast to her husband's usual deep baritone that Sakura raised an eyebrow and looked concernedly at him.

"Are you quite sure you're all right?" she asked. "Is your throat sore? Because the flu's going round, and it could be that."

Syaoran cleared his throat rather forcefully and thoroughly.

"No, I don't think it's that," he said, and had to bite his tongue to stop himself from sighing with relief when his voice came out normal, "I think I just need a drink. My throat and mouth get terribly dry at night."

And he got up and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"Well, at least if it is the flu, the vitamin C in that juice will help," Sakura observed.

Sakura had to admit, as she watched her husband down a full glass of orange juice so fast it was nothing more than an orange blur as it disappeared, that any observer of the scene would probably imagine Sakura and Syaoran to be the perfect picture of blissful marriage life and peaceful domesticity, what with the wife worrying that her husband is sick, and the husband doing his level best to dismiss his darling wife's (probably irrational) fears.

In Sakura's opinion, as she got up to thump her choking husband on the back (well, he deserved to choke after drinking that juice so fast), it was quite a lovely picture, indeed.

…

"And today's to-do list goes something like this," Sakura began as she finished making marks on a piece of paper in her precise handwriting. She lifted the paper up and began to read from it, "number one, I have to phone Tomoyo-chan and warn her and Eriol-san about Yelan-san coming. Number two, we have to go grocery shopping. Number three, we have to finish that report for the Finance Department. Number four, I have to tell Ueda-san that it's Yuri-san's birthday in five days' time –"

Syaoran interrupted her there.

"Okay, why?" he asked as he nibbled on a pen lid. The report for the Finance Department lay, barely even started, on his desk, blissfully forgotten in favor of listening to his wife, a much more diverting pastime than totting up figures.

Sakura was whirling herself around in her chair, her legs folded up beneath herself to increase that feeling of flying; her shoes lying kicked off under Syaoran's desk today, for some reason.

"You're going to make yourself sick if you keep doing that," Syaoran chided gently and good-naturedly.

"I can't say I care!" she breathed as she spun herself around once again. Syaoran chuckled softly to himself.

"Getting in touch with your inner four-year-old?" he asked teasingly.

"Yeeeesss!" she giggled as she whirled around again. "You should try it sometime, it's really fun."

Then she made the mistake of getting up off her seat. She staggered, clutching her head against the dizziness and would have fallen to the ground had Syaoran not displayed startlingly fast reflexes, leapt up out of his chair like he had been scalded, and caught her arm in a firm but not painful grip.

She gazed up at him with wide jade-colored eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly, sincerely.

Syaoran could feel himself color.

"It was nothing," he said gruffly.

They stood for a second, Sakura still fighting the force that made her want to giggle and collapse. Then Syaoran seemed almost to snap back to reality, as he gently steered her back to her own seat, which she had strayed from with a few staggering, wobbly steps.

"Anyway," he said when Sakura was safely sitting properly back in her seat, "you were about to tell me why you have to tell Ueda-san about Miss Yuri's birthday."

"Oh yes," Sakura said, grinning. "I can't believe I almost forgot… But please, don't tell me you can't see what's going on there?"

Syaoran looked blankly at her. Sakura sighed and wondered if she could beat her head off her desk.

Well, she could, but Syaoran would probably be sort of freaked out.

"You're just a typical man, aren't you?" she asked in a voice that Syaoran thought could probably be called fond. Well, the smile she followed it up with was definitely fond, as was her second tolerant sigh.

"I think Ueda-san and Yuri-san might…"

Hmm, now, how best to put it?

"Might…"

But Syaoran nodded knowingly then.

"I know what you mean. I've seen the way they look at each other, after all."

Sakura looked back at her to-do list.

"And, lastly, we have to remember to pick up your mother from the airport tomorrow at ten A.M."

Syaoran groaned at that.

"What? What's wrong?" asked a perplexed Sakura.

"Ten A.M.! One of us will have to take time off work to go get her!"

He rubbed his forehead as he thought.

"Could we just send a cab for her?" he asked finally. Sakura shook her head.

"No, I think one of us should get her," she said decisively.

Syaoran drummed his fingers against the surface of his desk as he thought.

"Will I go, or will you?" he asked her. Sakura shrugged.

"You, I suppose. You're her son, after all," she said.

Syaoran watched as his wife gazed out at something beyond the office window. What was she thinking about? Was she worrying, like he was, as to how his mother's visit would go?

…

A.N. This is a longer chapter than usual. beamsThings are moving along quite nicely. I'm trying to keep things going at a good pace as I only have fourteen chapters with which to do this arc gulpsHowever, I can't do indulgently long chapters as I wouldn't have time to churn one out every week. Ah, dilemmas, dilemmas…

Hmm, Syaoran appears to have fallen deeply in lust with Sakura. A bad thing or a good thing? Only time will tell, I suppose grin

Next chapter: Yelan arrives at the Li residence. What will happen during her stay? Will Sakura and Syaoran be able to uphold their image of being happily married? (Hopefully we'll also see more Ueda and Yuri, but no promises! sweatdrop)

See you next time!

Shattered Midnight Dreams…zzz…

Mine was a dream that was lost in a breeze, because life's like that sometimes…