A / N : Bit of an update break. I've been busy working on completing BLACK (which is now complete) and starting a new fic, Literary. Anyway, I was having a bit of a bother writing this chapter, but then I got great news yesterday.
1) I scored in the 98th percentile of the national chemistry competition.
2) I got a 90 in my physics test, which is fair enough, considering I sleep during lessons, don't do my homework and didn't study...
3) My finals came in from last semester, and I averaged a whopping 96 percent:O
So to celebrate, I've glued myself to the laptop screen and slaved away at this chapter all day. It's quite long and has PLENTY of SxS interaction (well, by my standards anyway) PLUS...you get a small glimpse of Sakura's first mission with Syaoran!
Enjoy!
u n d e r c o v e r
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r e c a p
"So..." she said, regaining her composure as she opened the folder. "Who's my partner going to be for this mission?"
Syaoran let a Cheshire cat grin play about his mouth.
"Well...as Field Commanders only work with other Field Commanders," he began leisurely, watching Sakura stiffen, "and as Nakuru, Yukito and Kaho were already busy..."
"Spit it out already!" Sakura crossed her arms, her face thunderously dark.
"We-ell..." Syaoran said with a deft wink. "Seeing as I'm already here..."
Sakura caught on right away.
"You have got to be kidding me," she said disbelievingly. "I'm stuck with you?"
---
c h a p t e r. vi : a n t i c i p a t e d
Syaoran raised both of his eyebrows.
"It's all or nothing, Ying Fa," he said, rather sternly. "You can take it, or leave it."
Green met amber as they stared each other down. It was a private battle of wills, except...there was no battle. None at all. Sakura needed to accept the mission, and partnering with Li didn't change much for her. She knew she was over her obsession of him. She knew she could control him, despite what he thought. Her fingers tightened around the slim black folder containing her assignment details.
"I'll take it," she said quietly.
Syaoran nodded, his face clearing of all visible expression. His eyes, however, still glittered with some inexplicable mirth.
"Let's go back," he said, glancing at his Swiss Army wristwatch. "It's almost two in the morning, and you need your beauty sleep."
He got up and turned away, hiding a smirk as Sakura tossed him a vicious glare that may have burned a hole into the back of his head.
They stopped in front of Sakura's tenth-floor apartment. Sakura paused in front of her door, her face impassive as Syaoran stood barely two steps behind her. She unlocked her door and opened it slowly, just a crack.
To her dismay, Syaoran's hand shot out, pushing the door wide open. Sakura hesitated on the threshold of her apartment. Was he planning on coming inside...?
He walked into her apartment, brushing past her without a by-your-leave, and headed into her closet. Sakura watched him, stupefied for a moment, before shutting her door hurriedly and following him into her closet.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, watching as he pulled clothes off of hangers, folded them quickly, and piled them on the closet floor.
Syaoran glanced at her, midway through folding a dark blue pencil skirt.
"I'm helping you pack," he replied, giving her a half-amused, half-exasperated look. "Or rather, packing for you, as you don't seem to be doing much work here..."
Sakura shook her head despairingly, and set to work stripping her closet down to the wall. She worked quicker than Syaoran, attacking her lingerie before he could get his hands on them like last time.
"Don't worry," Syaoran called, pulling a bold red dress off of a hanger and shaking it out gently. "I've got the apartment next door. I'm not spending the night here. You don't have to worry about hiding those from me, thanks."
Sakura glanced at the pile of underwear she had just covered with an old nightgown, and felt her face burn bright red. Syaoran's lips curved into his trademark smirk, pleased to see her embarrassed already.
Her expansive closet sorted into three piles of clothing, the two of them turned to face the remainder of the apartment.
"Anything else yours?" Syaoran asked, eyes scanning the furniture doubtfully.
Sakura shrugged.
"A Sig Sauer, a few boxes of ammo, a box of throwing knives -"
"Throwing knives?" Syaoran echoed, disgust creeping onto his face. "How – what do you need those for?"
Sakura's eyes met his, and she grinned a malicious grin that made him take a couple of steps backward.
"Okay," he muttered. "Forget I asked."
"Leverage," was all Sakura chose to answer. Syaoran shuddered slightly, trying not to imagine what the result would be if he was ever alone in a room with Sakura and a box of throwing knives...
"You'd best get your weaponry out," Syaoran advised her. "On second thought – just hide it really well. You can't travel with those. I'll – we'll have someone pick it all up for us."
"You're acting as though I've never had to make quick escapes before, Li," Sakura said pointedly. "You're treating me like an amateur."
She didn't even notice him until he was right behind her. Her senses tingled on high alert as she sensed rather than felt his body behind hers. The faint scent of his cologne reached her nostrils. His shallow breathing tickled the back of her neck. Slowly, his hands rested on her shoulders. He took a step closer to her, pulling her toward him.
She stiffened and wriggled out of his grasp. He let her go easily, grinning as she turned to face him, panting a little.
"See?" he queried cheerfully. "No matter what you say, you're still the same Ying Fa."
Sakura's eyes were blazing dangerously. No one human would have been able to hold her gaze without quailing. But Syaoran held her gaze with ease.
Alright, Sakura thought vindictively. You're pulling the old seduction trick, aren't you Li? Two can play at that.
He stepped toward her. She took a step backward, with an expression on her face akin to a trapped animal. He took another step toward her, and she evened the distance between them by taking another step backward. He stepped forward yet again. Sakura stepped backward again, only to find her progress halted by a very solid wall.
Moments later, Syaoran closed in on her. He moved so he was standing right in front of her, and placed his palms on the wall, one on each side of her face. He was all she could see, all she could smell, all she could think of... He was crowding her senses, confusing her as he closed the distance between them, his body pressing against hers.
"You haven't changed one bit," he whispered, his face inches from hers. "I'll be looking forward to this mission."
"Looking forward?" Sakura repeated, making sure her voice sounded just as weak and strained as she appeared. "If I were you, I'd be feeling very...nervous."
Syaoran chuckled a little. He leaned so that his head rested on top of hers. He could feel her quivering beneath him, feel the erratic beating of her heart. He knew she was bluffing.
"Nervous?" he asked, humouring her a little. "And why's that?"
Sakura allowed herself to speak in a stronger voice as she replied.
"You're working with the new Sakura."
Syaoran scoffed softly. His hands dropped to her shoulders, his thumbs brushing her bare neck lightly. She shivered a little.
"Enlighten me," he said softly. "What is the difference between the old Sakura and the new one?"
Sakura gave him a small smile that rang with defiance.
"You can do what you want to the new Sakura, and she won't care," she replied, her voice hoarse but even.
Syaoran seemed to like this answer, because his hands were trailing down her arms and rested firmly on her waist.
"Like I said," he whispered, tilting her head backward so that they were eye-to-eye, "I'll be looking forward to this very much. Especially since you're willing..."
He pressed his mouth to hers, tasting her lips gently. They tasted just the way he remembered them, like a sweet concoction of cherries and honey and peppermint and – he needed more. He nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to gain access to her mouth.
Then it struck him.
Sakura was as unresponsive as the wall behind her.
Her eyes were closed, her heart was beating faster, but apart from that...nothing. Growing slightly angry, he applied more pressure to her mouth, forcing her to part her lips and allow him to enter.
She kept her mouth obstinately shut.
He kissed her harder, his hands tightening around her waist so that his fingers left bruises upon her pale skin. Then, he tasted something that was different from the sweet taste of Sakura's lips.
Blood.
He pulled away angrily. Sakura opened her eyes, gazing at him lazily with flushed cheeks and swollen, bleeding lips.
"I didn't say I was willing," she said in a low voice, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I just said that I didn't care."
She smirked as he drew away from her.
"Get back to your room, Li," she spat viciously. "I think that martini turned your head. I suggest you sleep it off. We have an early morning tomorrow, don't we?"
"Five o'clock," Syaoran said curtly, his voice like a knife thrust. "I'll be here in three hours. You'd better be ready to leave by then."
"You'd better not be threatening me there, Li," Sakura warned him, a dangerous glint coming into her eyes. She pulled herself to her full height, which was neither considerable nor intimidating, yet all the same, her body language conveyed one message clearly. Don't mess with me.
His eyes darkened forbiddingly. There was a muscle going in his clenched jaw as he tilted his head haughtily.
"Only the weak feel threatened," he retorted contemptuously before turning on his heel and walking out of her apartment. He paused at the door, a hand resting on the doorknob.
"Five in the morning," he said quietly, not facing her. "Otherwise I'm breaking down the door."
With that, he stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind him. Sakura stood, staring at the spot he had been standing in moments earlier. Then she unfroze, running her hands through her long red hair.
And to think we almost had a civil conversation! she thought explosively, sitting on the edge of her bed. Memories of the night replayed before her eyes. Syaoran appearing unexpectedly on the balcony, to help her. Going out for drinks in the middle of the night. Helping her pack. It was almost like the old days. Like when she was seventeen years old and fresh on her first mission and didn't know what to expect from life. And when life had thrown Syaoran at her, she had accepted him with wide open arms and the assured naivety of a foolish teenager.
But no amount of fleeting happiness concealed in a memory could persuade her to ignore what she was forced to do at present. What she had gone through after her dreams had shattered and her first mission failed. What five years of living on her own had taught her.
Wanted people never lived very long. Targeted people lived short lives. The brave lived even shorter, snuffed out of existence before their light could shine brightest. But the weak...the weak didn't live at all. Too timid or too vulnerable to come into existence, they would merely linger on the sidelines, simply waiting for death or harm to come to them.
Sakura couldn't afford to be weak. She needed to live. She had to. And for that, she couldn't allow herself to have any weaknesses.
She glanced at the wall that separated her apartment from Syaoran's.
Especially not when she'd almost been destroyed by him before...
Syaoran had his share of shortcomings. He was far from the ideal man. Blessed with incredibly good looks and a charming persona, he lacked many things. Sensitivity. Selflessness. Scruples. Modesty. Charity. Manners, on occasion. He was perfectly aware of the effect he had on any member of the opposite sex who laid eyes on him. He had no qualms about pressing his advantage to either complete his missions or to pursue free entertainment on the side. He knew he was one of the best in his field, which was why he had been promoted to Field Commander without the aid of his father's legacy. He was dangerous. He was unpredictable. He was the world's biggest flirt and revelled in it.
But there was one thing that Syaoran was not. And that was tardy.
Sakura had just finished slipping her feet into her black stilettos when, precisely at five o'clock, a sharp knock could be heard on the door.
She opened the door to let him in.
"Just to remind you that you're supposed to be in business – ah."
Syaoran's eyes rested on Sakura, dressed in a creamy ivory blouse, a charcoal pencil skirt and a smoky grey blazer, cut to flatter her slim shape. From the tips of her hair, secure in its swept updo, to the pointy toes of her shoes, she looked like a professional.
"Well..." he struggled for words as Sakura straightened and looked at him curiously, "we'd best get going. Do you need any help with those?"
Without waiting for her to reply, he took one of the two large suitcases in his hands. Sakura nodded at him as she lifted the other suitcase in her hands.
"Thanks," she offered.
He grunted in response. They made their way out of her apartment building and into a taxi waiting on the ground floor. Evidently Syaoran had already issued the driver with instructions, because the moment the two of them climbed into the back of the vehicle, the taxi was off. Sakura took a quick glance backward, at what had been her dwelling (she refused to call it "home") for nearly two months. It had been comfortable, living in New York. Luxurious, if not a bit dangerous. And now she was back in the CLA, plunging headfirst into the midst of the crime she had learned to fight all her life.
Only this time, she didn't feel so sure of herself. She'd looked over her case details and didn't like what she read. Because what she and Syaoran had been assigned to do...she had tried it, just six months earlier. And it had backfired. Gone horribly wrong. She was wary of reentering the lion's den after having narrowly escaped it the first time.
But this time around, she had the resources of the CLA at her disposal. That had to count for something. Besides, Syaoran was a force to be reckoned with, she thought to herself. For all his frivolity, he was one of the best on the field. Sakura had cause to know this, having been overshadowed by him several times on her first mission. She had managed to learn so much, just by watching him. The way he planned his moves. The way he executed them flawlessly. There was Syaoran and then there was the then-Agent Li. Syaoran may have been a bit of a bother, but Li was a man without scruples or feelings. Throughout her years, Sakura had tried to mimic his style of reconnaissance, eventually developing her own unique methods of achieving her ends. But they involved similar practices. Espionage. Disguises. Emotional tomfoolery. Silencers. Hand-to-hand combat, if all else failed.
Maybe that was why they had been assigned to work together once again. It was obvious that, as professionals, their work styles and habits complemented each other's perfectly. Sakura had done a lot of growing in the last six years. Maybe Syaoran had more experience in complex situations, being a Field Commander and all, but she had dealt with situations the CLA hadn't even heard of. With his orthodoxy and her wild streak, maybe it would be enough to conquer this mission and once and for all, cancel out the painful memories of her first failed mission.
Sakura closed her eyes, already feeling more at ease.
It would all start in London.
Within two short hours, they were seated in a British Airways airliner, side-by-side in luxurious business class. They had boarded the airplane under the aliases of Taro and Kasumi Maeda, a married couple. Sakura had fought hard to keep her irritation from showing on her face as Syaoran had introduced themselves to the customs lady.
"Good morning," he had said, flashing his most charming grin at the young brunette behind the counter who was staring at him, trying to hide the fact that she was open-mouthed. "My, but you don't look like you've been up all night, miss. However do you do it?"
Sakura had rolled her eyes and tapped the toes of her shoe impatiently while Syaoran carried on his oh-so-important (not) conversation with the brunette, who was taken enough with the man's careful flattery.
About five thousand years later, it seemed, the brunette seemed to remember her job and began asking her customary questions.
"Your name?" she asked, as though offering a dinner invitation rather than security clearance.
"Taro Maeda," Syaoran had said, casually ruffling his thick unruly hair.
"Oh..." the brunette said, nodding. "And uh – your stay in New York -?"
"A month," Syaoran replied smoothly. "Just long enough to close a business deal."
"You're heading to London for business, then?" the brunette asked, shuffling some papers here and then.
"In a manner of speaking..." Syaoran trailed off, catching Sakura's eye and ducking as she threw a decidedly unfriendly glare at him.
"Are you travelling with anyone?" the brunette asked, her eyes lingering on Sakura as though seeing her for the first time. Sakura's glare intensified as she crossed her arms around her chest forbiddingly.
"Yes I am," Syaoran said, gazing at Sakura with a grin. He put her arm around her shoulders. "Kasumi Maeda. My wife."
The brunette's face had reddened considerably then. Obviously embarrassed over her attempts to flirt with a man while his wife was present, she ushered them through without asking any further questions.
"Easy," Syaoran drawled as they walked to their waiting lounges. He didn't bother removing his arm from around Sakura's shoulders.
Sakura had tossed him an irritated glare.
"Must you always go out of your way to seduce the first member of the opposite sex you lay eyes on?" she demanded through gritted teeth.
Syaoran had snorted at that.
"That was not seducing," he corrected, eyes alight with mischief. "Seducing would involve some resistance on her part, and some effort on mine."
"Thanks for the distinction," Sakura muttered. "Would you care to let go of me now?"
"Nope." Syaoran had shook his head, his grin widening as he pulled her closer to him.
Sakura's eyes had narrowed.
"And why not?" she hissed dangerously.
Syaoran's arm had slid almost instantly to her waist.
"I'm not done seducing you yet," he whispered into her ear. "My dear Kasumi."
Sakura fought back a yelp as she felt his warm breath tickle the sides of her face gently. Resisting the urge to stomp down on his foot as hard as she could, she turned to face him.
"At the risk of sounding crude..." she said slowly, her face darkening with each word, "are you always this horny, or is it just around me?"
There had been a brief pause as Syaoran absorbed Sakura's words, his face perfectly composed.
"I'll have to say..." Syaoran had replied seriously, "it's just around you."
Sakura had seriously, seriously considered screaming "Rape!" at the top of her lungs in the middle of the crowded airport, but then, thankfully (or not, depending on whose perspective) they reached the lounge and Syaoran removed his arm from her waist as they sat down, waiting for their airplane.
Presently, Sakura was pretending to sleep. She had managed to get a few minutes' worth of rest, but now, she was only sleeping to avoid talking to Li. He still wasn't taking her seriously. It was as though they weren't heading to London for a serious mission at all. It seemed more like a...she frowned...romantic getaway.
Ugh, she thought, grimacing as she turned her head, trying to get comfortable. A romantic getaway with Li...
Her thoughts were interrupted as Syaoran spoke, rather softly.
"You know, I'd have found your pretence of sleep just a little more believable if it wasn't for that expression on your face."
Sakura groaned inwardly. Was two hours' worth of peace too much to ask for?
"Nerves, Li," she murmured, in a convincing imitation of someone who'd just woken up from a deep and restful sleep. "It may be my first time going to London."
"But it also may not." Amber eyes held her gaze the moment she opened her eyes and squinted.
She yawned, stretching her arms and rotating her head, trying to ease the cramp in her neck.
"You've been out for three hours," Syaoran said quietly. "Want to go over details, or are you still tired?"
"I'm fine," Sakura said quickly, stuffing a fist onto her mouth to stop herself from yawning again. "Lay it on me."
Syaoran's eyebrow quirked up fractionally, but he made no further comment as he reached for the folder he kept inside his jacket at all times. Sakura dimly wondered how much he could fit in his pockets before he flipped the folder open and removed a sheet of paper covered in his angular, uniform handwriting.
"We're heading to London, to neutralize the growing Aconite threat in Europe by taking out Hiirigawaza's main man there," Syaoran explained, his words coming out so quickly that only Sakura could distinguish the individual words. Anyone else would have merely heard a slurred murmur of incomprehensible sounds. It was a trick they had been taught in training school. How to communicate private details in public without being overheard.
Sakura nodded, leaning closer to try and read what was written on Syaoran's paper. He obliged by holding the sheet over the armrests, so that she could look over his words comfortably.
"Hiirigawaza trusts very little," he continued, in that slurred voice of his. "We're pretty sure that his entire European connections rest on the shoulders of this one man. He was a corporate giant in his day, but I think he's going to seed right now. He needs his black market connections to hoist him up in society. He's our target."
"Name?" Sakura asked, her voice similarly slurred. Rather, she wasn't asking. She thought she knew who the man's name was, but just to make sure her hunch was correct -
"Keiro Tsukiyune," Syaoran murmured, bringing the paper closer to Sakura, who leaned closer for a better look. They were now sitting shoulder to shoulder, their heads almost touching. Both of them, so engrossed in their work, didn't even realize just how close they were.
Sakura nodded, her face going grim.
"I see," she said, breaking into a lapse of thought. So she had guessed correctly. They were going to London in order to – what was the word Syaoran had used? - neutralize the Aconite threat. By either isolating Tsukiyune or killing him.
Sakura had tried both in the past before. It had left her with not-so-pretty memories, and even uglier scars. She had been hoping to avoid London for this particular reason, but since the CLA had come by and decided to give her a lift...
Did they know that she had tried to bring him down by herself? She doubted it. She knew that whatever she had done to him, Tsukiyune himself didn't even remember, thanks to a memory-lapse drug she had put him on. So obviously, the CLA couldn't know what she knew about him. Their information couldn't be as accurate as her own...
"The plan's simple for now," Syaoran told her, frowning as she stared thughtfully at the paper. "There's a formal gathering tomorrow night. Tsukiyune will be there. We have to attend tomorrow and acquaint ourselves with him. Become a part of his -"
"Inner circle," Sakura finished wearily. "Then we hope he invites us to dinner the next evening, where we take our chances with eliminating him from the picture once and for all."
Syaoran glanced at her shrewdly.
"That was direct," he said appraisingly. "More or less accurate, though."
Sakura smiled a little. Her eyelids drooped down and suddenly, she was asleep again, her body slumping back against her seat.
The plane began to shake as it encountered turbulence over the Atlantic Ocean. Syaoran swore, fumbling for his seatbelt when he felt something come to rest against his shoulder.
It was Sakura's head.
He glanced at it for a moment before shaking his head, a small smile on his lips. Maybe it was a good thing she was asleep. It allowed him time to reflect. And reflection was something Syaoran had less time or patience to do these days.
Maybe it was partly because he was scared. He feared examining his feelings because he didn't know what he would find. But then again, Syaoran hadn't become the man he was by fearing the unknown. He knew himself so that he could control himself. And – despite his playful, teasing attitude toward the redhead nuzzled against his shoulder – Syaoran was a man of control. He knew where to draw the line.
Except for that one time...
Syaoran frowned as he remembered the first time he had met Sakura. During her first mission. As a rising Agent in the ranks of the CLA's reconnaissance force, it fell to him to train a graduate of field school. And he had been the lucky Agent chosen to train the infamous Kinomoto Sakura.
Even in her days as a student at field training school, Sakura had been well known throughout the entire CLA. Syaoran could easily recollect the awe that had surrounded talk of her, even among Agents senior to him. Well, he reasoned, what was there not to admire about Sakura? Easily one of the youngest students in her class, apparently the spitting image of both her parents rolled into one, she had already survived three assassination attempts by the Aconite mafia before entering training school.
Syaoran could remember the day all too clearly when Meiden informed him that he would be training Sakura during her first mission. He remembered scoffing and rolling his eyes, imagining what the sixteen-year-old Sakura would be like. He assumed she would be just like any other silly teenage girl, with nothing more than air in her head and a clout-bearing surname attached to her title. He remembered – not exactly hating her, but growing irritated with every hushed word about her. The legendary golden girl of the CLA who had graduated at the top of every single one of her classes at the tender age of sixteen – matching a feat accomplished by only one other individual throughout CLA history. Syaoran himself.
So an unspoken rivalry developed, well before they met each other. And when they did, Syaoran had to admit that he was surprised. Because Kinomoto Sakura wasn't like any other female he had encountered in his twenty one years of life. All he had ever learned to expect from women was sex and...just that. Sex. The way they flocked to him, even when he was in his coldest and most ruthless tempers. The way they melted when he turned on his charming mannerisms. The way he left them the next morning, bodily needs sated, head cleared and hand resting on the gun hidden in his inside jacket pocket. Ready to tackle the next mission the CLA threw his way.
But Sakura was different. He could feel it the moment they met...
-
Flashback
-
It was a Sunday afternoon, as grey and drizzly as it ever got. Syaoran was focused on his laptop, carefully hacking a security system somewhere in Montenegro, or a country close to there. He had been so engrossed in his task, he hadn't even noticed that someone had been knocking insistently on his door for a period of about five minutes. Or maybe he had noticed, and simply hadn't bothered to answer the door. Who comes calling on gloomy Sundays like this one anyway? he wondered, rolling his eyes and setting himself back on task.
A very loud cracking noise jarred his attention from his work entirely. The next thing he knew, he had jumped to his feet, glaring at a woman who was picking her way through the wreckage of his front door.
"You must be Li," she said calmly, large green eyes surveying him coolly as she straightened herself in the foyer.
"Who the hell are you?" Syaoran demanded, none too cordially, as the petite redhead pulled off her coat. Almost automatically, his body arranged itself into a defensive stance.
The young woman raised both her eyebrows quizzically.
"You mean Meiden hasn't told you yet?" she asked, disappointment creeping into her voice. "I'm your partner for Montenegro. Kinomoto Sakura."
Any feelings of surprise, shock, anger, or others, instantly vanished from Syaoran's mind as the woman – no – teenager casually hung her jacket in the walk-in closet by the door, and kicked the remnants of his front door shut. They fell to pieces again.
"Whoops," Sakura muttered lightly, as Syaoran fixed her with a glare meant to kill.
"You kicked my front door in!" he accused, his voice dangerously sharp. When he used that tone around others, especially women, they coiled in fear and ran in the other direction.
He therefore got the shock of his life when Sakura threw him a glare almost as frightening as his own. Almost.
"You left me waiting outside for five minutes," she countered, her voice just as cold as his. She made her way into the apartment noiselessly, her face grim and unduly unconcerned.
-
End Flashback
-
From that moment on, Syaoran learned one very important thing about Kinomoto Sakura.
She had guts.
Unexpected, but a welcome change from the usual mess of drippy women he had previously indulged in. Sakura's backbone might have aroused him if he hadn't been so bitter about losing the upper hand in first impressions.
They embarked on their mission to Montenegro with no feelings toward the other short of irritable and apathetic. Syaoran was clearly the superior Agent of the pair, having five good years of experience under his belt, and lost no opportunity in harrassing his young partner psychologically. In time, Sakura came to fear her malicious amber-eyed partner, who was older than her, stronger than her, and had the grounds to do anything he wanted to her.
Syaoran sighed, his frown deepening as Sakura's head turned, so that her face was pressing into his shoulder. He couldn't remember what exactly had happened during that mission. It had been so long ago, all the events were a blur in his head that he had tried to erase repeatedly. Those memories were associated with failure, shame and weakness, and he didn't want to relive them.
But he remembered how his general contempt for the newly-turned seventeen-year-old slowly faded away to a sort of grudging respect. He respected her because throughout the entire mission (which was lengthy and complicated enough for an experienced Agent like him), she had maintained the tough, apathetic manner that she had displayed during their first meeting. He respected her because she obeyed him without question. He respected her because she feared him and still accepted his cruel, hurtful criticism wordlessly, without a word of complaint.
Then somehow, everything changed...
-
Flashback
-
It was a typical weekend evening. They were returning from an exhausting night of information-gathering (or whoring around, as Sakura had called it scathingly) that had gone better than expected. All of a sudden, they found themselves under fire.
They got off alive. Sakura managed to get nothing more than a few superficial nicks and scrapes on her arms. Syaoran hadn't been so lucky. A bullet caught him in the small of his back, and it was lodged a good inch deep. Syaoran had been shot at before, but he had never gotten a bullet so close to anything vital. This bullet was about two inches away from his spine.
Somehow, he and Sakura got back to their residence. The first thing Syaoran did was shut himself in his room and examine the wound. It was a futile attempt, really. Even if he battled the dizzying waves of pain emanating from his bullet wound, he couldn't twist himself around to perform the necessary surgery on his back. He was flexible and powerful, but he was no gymnast.
At that moment, Sakura chose to barge into his room. The doorknob looked curiously loose as she placed a kit of some sort on the counter next to his bed.
"Take off your shirt," she ordered curtly.
Syaoran gave her an incredulous look. His hands remained stubbornly still.
"Why?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly from the pain. He may have received a fatal wound, but he was not stripping down in front of Sakura and allowing her to tend to his wound. That was a blow to his pride he didn't think he would ever recover from -
Sakura let out an aggravated growl before stepping up to him and violently undoing the buttons on his expensive shirt.
"You are so stupid," she muttered through her teeth as her fingers undid the very last button on his shirt. "Do you honestly think that by pretending nothing's wrong, your wound's going to go away on its own?"
She ripped the shirt off of him, her eyes blazing.
"Get onto the bed," she ordered, her voice similar to Syaoran's when he didn't want to be taken lightly.
Syaoran obeyed. The entire situation would have been quite erotic, if it hadn't been for the dark look on Sakura's face.
"On your stomach."
Syaoran bit back a bitter retort before grimacing and obliging, stretching himself out on the bedcovers. Exposing the wound to Sakura, who was fiddling around with the contents of the first aid box.
Syaoran winced as she slammed the first aid kit back onto the bedside table, wondering what it would be like to have an enraged Sakura to administer treatment for his wound. She was so violent already...
But when she kneeled by the bed and spoke, her voice was almost gentle.
"I don't have anaesthesia," she said in a low voice. "This is going to hurt a lot."
Syaoran nodded, feeling oddly feverish as the frigid night air tingled his burning body. His back was in agony, a burning yet numb sensation that left him feeling more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life. He wished that Sakura couldn't see him in his weakened state. He was worried that she might have chosen that particular moment to get back at him for his months and months of deliberate cruelty...
But when her fingers brushed his back, they were about as soft as her voice. He shuddered as he felt searing pain lance through his lower back. Almost immediately, it was alleviated by something cool and soothing, placed right against his wound.
He raised his red-rimmed eyes to see Sakura delicately drop something into a bowl of water with a pair of tweezers. Focusing on it, he realized it was the bullet.
"That was fast," he said, his voice hoarse from pain.
Sakura smiled grimly.
"I have to stitch the wound closed," she informed him. "You're lucky it didn't get infected."
Syaoran let out a weak chuckle that sounded more derisive than it did mirthful. Sakura's hands lightly skimmed his bare back and removed the soothing poultice from the gaping wound. Her fingertips gently massaged the feeling back into his numb skin. Syaoran bit back a groan as her butterfly-light touch countered the pain of the torn flesh in his back.
Then, there was more burning pain. He assumed Sakura was sewing the wound shut. She was bent over, her fingers working so quickly yet so carefully...she was so close, he could feel her warm shallow breathing on his skin.
It seemed like he lay there for an eternity, Sakura cautiously sewing the torn ends of his skin shut. There was a curious sensation eating away in his gut that didn't seem to have anything to do with the bullet wound.
All thought vanished from his head when Sakura pulled the thread taut, knotted it, and leaned in closer to bite the thread free. Her face was so close to his skin, he could feel strands of her hair lazily grazing the burning flesh of his back.
"Done," she whispered, tossing the needle and thread into the bowl containing the bullet. She placed a soaked towel on top of his wound and stood up. Her face was austere again, as grim and impassive as always.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone, the door swinging noiselessly on its hinges in her wake. Syaoran lay there, his thoughts swirling. All he could think of was Sakura. Her apathy. Her anger. Her gentleness. The caress of her fingers on his bare back -
He couldn't believe himself when he found himself longing for her to come back. To feel the touch of her hands against his skin once more...
As if in answer to his thoughts, Sakura returned, her hands washed and soiled utensils dispensed accordingly. She knelt by the bed again, removing the towel gently. She dressed the wound deftly and efficiently.
"It'll hurt for a few days," she told him simply. "That went in deep."
She never spoke more than necessary, having adapted herself to his taste for absolute silence. Even after removing the towel and dressing his wound, she retreated from him, keeping a good arm's-length distance between them. She feared him, he realized. And that realization had never made him feel more...guilty?
He tried to get up, but the wound, though dressed, was still fresh. He collapsed back onto the bed, a hiss of pain escaping his lips.
Sakura was by his side in a flash.
"Are you stupid?" she demanded flatly, her green eyes boring into his. "The last thing we need is for this to get worse. Stop being an ass and get some rest."
She made to get away, but in a flash, his right hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him.
She gasped as his hazy eyes pierced her own.
"Thank you..." he murmured. "For...everything..."
Sakura was speechless. She had known Syaoran Li for over six months, and not once in that time period had he shown a fraction of the gratitude he was showing now. Even though she had gotten them out of worse scrapes than this. This was nothing. So why – why was he looking at her like that?
"It's nothing," she said dismissively, her brusque voice masking the unnatural thumping of her heart. "You'd do the same for me. I hope."
She was nervous. Syaoran Li intimidated her in a way no other man had ever intimidated her before. Maybe it was because they were partners in her first experience as a professional Agent, or maybe because he was the one who treated her more ruthlessly than her enemies, or maybe it was because of the effect he could have on her sometimes. He was four years older than her, stronger than her, had more experience than her in wordly matters... He was tall and he was toned and he was so deliciously handsome and now he was lying in front of her, weakened and shirtless, with his eyes staring into hers, alive with something she couldn't place. His hand, though cold and clammy, was still closed tightly around her own wrist, and she was inches away from him. She was feeling slightly feverish. Her knees were shaking.
Control! Her mind screamed at her, putting her back on her guard. Li is a professional Agent assigned to train you. Nothing more.
Nothing more...
"Sakura?" Syaoran breathed. The name sounded alien coming from his lips. Usually, when he addressed her, it was in a degrading manner, such as "hey" or "you" or "girl". Sometimes, if he was feeling civil, he would address her as "Kinomoto", but those cases were rare.
But hearing her name in his voice – his weak, strained voice – it drove her mad. She was losing control. She knew she was. Any moment now, Li would snap out of his reverie and jeer at her for being so naïve and hopeless...
But instead, he was drawing her close to him. He propped himself up gingerly on one elbow, bringing her face nearer to his. Their breaths were shallow and uneven as they stared at each other, not really understanding what they were doing...
Syaoran exhaled sharply.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered before crushing his lips to hers.
-
End Flashback
-
It was a bit of a crappy first kiss, Syaoran thought to himself, absently stroking Sakura's hair.
But from that point onward, there was no turning back. They could have simply ignored what had happened, and pretended that the moment never existed. But Sakura stayed with him the whole night, her gentle fingers caressing his back, soothing him. They stayed in complete silence. In the morning, there would be time for words.
And many words there were. Syaoran had been astonished to discover that Sakura hadn't harboured any real grudge toward him for tormenting her those past months. Sakura had been shocked to discover that there was no real contempt in Syaoran's heart for her, and even more so to discover that Syaoran possessed a heart and human feelings. She had seen him with other women: the charming, carefully flattering stranger, too perfect to be true. But she knew that was a guise he only put on to achieve his ends, which in turn were information or sex. Sometimes both.
Naturally, it turned her world upside-down to learn that there was a side of Syaoran that cared. A side of Syaoran that could experience human emotions and share them with her. A Syaoran who could talk and laugh and kiss in a way that made her hair stand on end...
Syaoran sighed, wishing that they hadn't been quite so preoccupied with each other at the time. Maybe then, the mission wouldn't have tilted so heavily against them and the CLA wouldn't have had to rescue them from a tight situation. He hated himself for abandoning Sakura at her hour of need, but he forced himself to do it. Because he knew that by betraying her this once, he was actually saving her. And one day, she would understand why he did what he did. No matter if that day came after five, ten or fifty years.
He glaced at her, tranquilly asleep against his shoulder.
All he had to do was wait...
"Had a nice nap?" Syaoran asked conversationally as they made their way out of Heathrow Airport.
Sakura stifled a yawn.
"Good enough, thanks," she said, uncharacteristically courteous.
"Good to know," Syaoran said, his trademark smirk playing across his lips. "Because we're not going to be getting much sleep these next few days, now are we?"
Sakura frowned at the suggestiveness of his words. He made it sound like they'd be doing more than just planning their next moves -
"Shut up," she told him, her frown deepening.
Syaoran's smirk only widened, but he complied as they stepped into the cloudy London outdoors.
"Taxi?" Sakura asked.
Syaoran shook his head.
"I think the Association's sending us a small something..."
His voice trailed off as his eyes lingered on a beautiful silver Boxster, parked just off the curb.
"I wonder..." he muttered, grabbing a set of keys from his jacket pocket (Sakura rolled her eyes) and pressed the Unlock button.
The Porsche's headlights sprang to life as the locks undid themselves.
"Cool," Syaoran said with a grin. "I've always wanted to try one of these."
"Try driving one of these," Sakura corrected, though there was a small smile on her face.
"Whatever," Syaoran replied flippantly, strolling over to the car and dumping a suitcase into the trunk. "Watch for it, the space is a bit cramped here," he warned to Sakura, who was carrying her own suitcase. He took it from her, managed to fit it into the trunk and shut the door. He climbed into the driver's seat. Moments later, Sakura slid into the passenger's seat beside him.
He glanced at her, hands on the wheel. He was positively beaming.
Okayy...Sakura thought to herself, doing up her seatbelt.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To our apartment," Syaoran replied. "It shouldn't be too far away from here."
Sakura nodded.
"Okay."
The drive to the apartment was short and uneventful. They didn't say much. Syaoran kept his eyes trained on the road, and Sakura stared out the window, the London cityscape looking ominously familiar to her...
All too soon, Syaoran slowed the Porsche to a stop.
"Here we are!" he announced. "Next stop: apartment."
Sakura grimaced as she undid her seatbelt.
"Stop being so cheerful," she admonished, scowling. "It's unnatural."
Syaoran raised both eyebrows and let out a small chuckle as they got out of the car and made their way to the double doors, luggage in hand. A porter was there to park their car. Syaoran surrendered the Porsche's keys, albeit rather reluctantly.
All the arrangements for their stay had been made earlier, so the two of them merely walked across the lobby and pressed the elevator button.
"What floor are we on?" Sakura asked.
"Twenty," Syaoran replied. "So we get to travel twenty floors in a tiny elevator...alone."
Sakura smiled at him icily.
"I'm still not willing," she told him matter-of-factly before the elevator doors opened.
Evidently, the memory of his rather humiliating rejection the night before was still fresh in Syaoran's mind, because as he stepped into the elevator after her, he wore a dark look on his face. He didn't say a word the long flight up, and Sakura began to wonder if she regretted her words. Then, she cleared her head of all thoughts when the elevator stopped and opened at floor twenty.
"We're in 2010," Syaoran said quietly. They looked around. Flat 2010 was down the hall, to the right. They made their way there earnestly, both eager for a change of clothing and a nap. However, when Syaoran unlocked the door and the both of them stepped into the cozy flat, they realized something was horribly, horribly wrong.
Sakura's mouth dropped as she dropped her suitcase and walked around the entire flat, peering into each and every doorway. Finally, she stopped in the middle of the living room and faced an amused Syaoran despairingly.
"Why is it that in this entire giant flat..." she began desparately, "...there's only one bedroom?!"
D i s c l a i m e r : I own nothing familiar.
A / N : I tried to balance a little bit of everything here. A bit of humour, a bit of angst, a bit of drama, a bit of -cough- romance (if you can call it that).
I liked this chapter because it was essential for Syaoran's character development. You can see right away that he's not a simple guy. He's got many, many layers to him. It's up to Sakura to ... peel them off, one by one. :P
My main objective for the rewrite was to make Syaoran a more dominant character. In the original, I thought he seemed too weak. Here...I'm enjoying the complexities within his character, but mainly, I wanted him to be stronger. Just wanted to clear that up.
Speaking of the original (or dancing around that topic), I'd like to inform you all that the original version of Undercover is now posted at my writing journal, for those interested in revisiting it. Just go to my profile and click 'homepage'. It should take you to a list of the works I've written, and the link to the original Undercover is there.
Finally, on a less cheerful note... -dons grim face-
Of the 91 people who have Favourited this story...of the 103 people who have put it on author alerts...of the 639 hits to the last chapter...only 30 of you left reviews. Honestly, I'm honoured that so many people are reading this (I hope), but I'm more than a little bit put out at the review-to-reader stats here. Don't get me wrong - I absolutely hate holding my stories hostage for reviews. I don't like demanding my readers to review: it just makes me feel horrible inside. But all the same - if I don't do it, then a whopping 71 percent of you out there don't review. And that just makes me feel worse.
I'm a girl of my word. I don't make many promises, but the few I make, I try to keep. So right now, I promise you this: just keep reviewing and I promise I'll update quickly. The update length from chapters 4 to 5 was CONSIDERABLY shorter than chapters 5 to 6. That was because I got more feedback, which in turn inspired and motivated me to write quicker. That being said, note that life is getting a bit hectic with summer school and I do have to prioritize that (not that I do much, but still, evaluation season is in) over writing fanfiction. Updates every two, three days are unlikely, but again, I will try. I also have another fic I'm working on too, so I have to spread out my time evenly.
I really, really would like to reach 350, but I think that's setting the bar just a bit too high. Break 330 for me at least though, will you? I'll take the rest from there...
To the 30 who actually did take the time to review, thank you from the bottom of my heart. This chapter was dedicated to you all, and you all only. I hope you enjoyed it.
Next Chapter: Sakura and Syaoran hit the malls to dress themselves up for a gathering where Keiro Tsukiyune will be present! It's their first time masquerading in public as a married couple, and they have to play the part. Meanwhile, things go slightly awry as Sakura realizes that she has miscalculated. Read about it in the forthcoming instalment of Undercover...
R.S.V.P! (Review, S'Il Vous Plait!)
-Celestiana
