CHAPTER NINE

STIRRINGS OF LOVE?

Saitō let the helicopter flare out as he came in for a landing. He was tired, and needed a cigarette very badly. But all in all, it was a good day. On his way back to the base, he had passed over what looked like the smoldering remains of a mechanized infantry battalion.

He and Okita, all by themselves, had managed to knock out three separate artillery batteries and a dozen mobile SAM launchers. And it looked like the base had managed to do well in its own right. As he did the after-flight checks, he thought quickly about his current situation. He was smart; there was no way he was on the same intellectual level as the rooster, nor even the weasel. And he knew that, besides thugs and the like, Shishio had very little actual military presence inside of Japan. At least not any that could strike them for a while. So he expected to have to deal with a lot of worthless skirmishes in the near future.

Finally the rotors stopped spinning, and he and Okita jumped out of the helicopter. And, as was expected, she was waiting for him, his dearly beloved Tokio. She was always waiting for him after every single mission, even before they had married. He smirked, and decided that he could wait until later before he lit up a cigarette. After all, being married to the woman who was in charge of the "safe house's" sanitary systems meant that one had to be more conscious of his health.

This meant, unfortunately, that he had to cut back on his smoking so that he wasn't getting nearly one third of the nicotine he was used to. A small price to pay, however, simply to appease the woman he so loved. He smirked again as he walked towards Tokio, his long legs closing the distance rapidly. He remembered when he first told Sagara and Himura that he was not only married, but had married out of love. The looks on their faces were priceless.

Tokio ran towards him and leapt into his arms, and he swung her in a circle, clutching her closely to him. Despite the joy he felt in his heart to know that she was still alive and unwounded after the attack, he refused to smile or laugh. After all, he had an image to upkeep…

Sagara (Takani) Megumi's POV:

She sighed as she peeled off her latex examination gloves. She should be glad, for there were no fatalities. But that didn't make the forty-three casualties just disappear. She didn't hear the door open behind her, nor did she hear the footsteps approach her.

She jumped a little when arms wrapped around her stomach, but then relaxed as she recognized just whom the firm and well muscled arms belonged to. She sighed as she leaned her head back into the well-defined chest of her husband.

She smiled as her eyes slid shut, and she made a contented noise in the back of her throat. "Wow, for once you didn't get wounded, tori-atama."

He chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating into her back. "Ah, why do I put up with you? You tell me time and time again not to call you kitsune, yet you get to call me tori-atama at will. Why is this, sweetie?"

Megumi just spun around, smiling an even wider grin. "Ah, for one simple reason, husband of mine: I outrank you." Sano immediately stiffened, and then began to grumble. She kissed him softly, silencing his sullen grousing. "Come on," she purred. "Let's get to our house; this place isn't decontaminated from the operations that had to be done."

Sano scooped her up into his arms, and spun her around towards the door, listening to her beautiful laughter all the while. "I think I like that idea…" he whispered, pausing slightly. "…Kitsune." Before she could react in anger, he gave her a hard and passionate kiss, kicking the door open.

Myojin Yahiko's POV:

He tried in absolute vain to smooth down his unruly hair, and for the first time in his life, he cursed his naturally spiky hair. Normally, he didn't even think about it…he doubted if a comb had ever even touched his head. Mostly, it was busu's fault. Kamiya-sensei was mostly absent, guarding his outer lands and crops from thieves and bandits. Mrs. Kamiya, well, she was mostly busy managing the household and estate. So, Kaoru had been the one who cared for him. And the busu didn't do to well of a job.

Eh, who could blame her? These were hard times, the first ten years of his life spent as a pick-pocket proved this much to Yahiko. So the fact that Kaoru completely lacked feminine skills (for the most part) wasn't all that surprising…

He was brought out his thoughts as he heard a soft voice give a surprised 'oh'. "Yahiko-chan! What a surprise to meet you in this part of the base. I thought you would be with the soldiers."

It was Tsubame, the young street orphan. Yahiko grit his teeth at the 'chan', but he ignored it. But if she kept on calling him that…

"Nah, I'm way cooler then any of the soldiers on the base. I'm second only to the Battôsai." He paused, taking a small glance at the young girl. She was giggling softly behind her hand. He grinned widely. The girl he had a crush on thought he was funny! Bolstered by this knowledge, he continued to flirt as best as he could, at a young twelve years of age.

Shinomori Aoshi's POV:

His stoic face was as calm and ice-cold as ever, but he was suffering from one of those damn headaches that seemed to dig sharply right behind the eyeball. The damned Americans talked too much, and weren't used to having to fight for everyday survival. He didn't doubt that some of the CRF NCOs couldn't beat some of the Green Berets down.

Well, on second thought, maybe not. But the more experienced troops, the ones with formal military training and had already been fighting for a good ten years now, they could contend with the Americans.

He sighed as he neared his quarters. The only reason he put up with them was the fact that the UCNA was willing to support them if they could survive their current position for a while longer. Already they were promising some air support from a carrier group not far off the coast of Korea. Some F/A-18C's and F35's, as well as a few support craft were being lent to the cause. Once some more red tape was waded through, they'd be getting some of those new birds, the F20's he'd heard so much about.

He opened the door, and a bundle of living energy slammed into his stomach. He grunted in pain as a jolt of agony bolted through his head.

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao almost squealed in happiness.

"Misao," Aoshi said, in a tone almost identical to the one he always used, but immediately Misao let go of him and stepped back out of his space. She looked intently into his face.

"Aoshi-sama, do you need anything at all?"

Aoshi gave a very small smile. "Aspirin with green tea, and a bath, if you would." Once Misao nodded, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Arigato," he whispered softly. He didn't know how he would have survived without the lively girl. Amusing how she proved the adage 'Opposites attract'. It often seemed as though she was the only thing keeping him sane. "Come, did you eat yet?"

Misao shook her head. "I already cooked, but didn't eat. I was waiting for you. It is ready to be heated up anytime you like."

"Again, arigato. We will dine together after our bath."

Misao blinked owlishly, and a sly grin spread across her face. "Our bath?" she asked with a purr. Aoshi grinned another very small grin, thinking all the while: Yes, she is indeed a killer in the bedroom. Or, in this case, the bathroom…

Kamiya Kaoru's POV:

The explosions had ended a long time ago. Which, at the time of the battle, had seemed to be forever, for she was bleeding, as was Kenshin, and to get out of the hole she had jumped into would have meant instantaneous death. This she did not look forward to whatsoever. She liked being alive.

And so, she had waited until the battle ended, and finally get some help to get Kenshin over to the MASH, where they both got treated. Luckily, someone allowed them to be in the same room after the operations.

So there she was, currently bored out of her mind, laying down on a hospital cot, glancing occasionally at the out-of-commission assassin on the cot next to hers. He was unconscious, an IV replenishing his lost body water, trying to get him re-hydrated. She knew he was out of the danger zone, that he was no more dehydrated then if he had worked on a hot summer day.

Still, where her leg had only needed six stitches to close up properly, he had twenty-three all over his body, and a sprained wrist. She sighed, and looked to the ceiling again. Within a minute, however, she was back to looking at the redhead. She couldn't get what Megumi had said earlier out of her head, no matter how hard she tried.

Kenshin suddenly groaned, and shifted as though in pain. Kaoru frowned and stood, ignoring the sharp ache in her lower calf. She limped over to his bed, and lay a soft hand on his forehead. Immediately his fidgeting stopped.

But while she was standing there, she noticed more and more about the man on the bed. He was only clad in a pair of sweatpants, and his blanket hid slid off of his chest. She…well, to put it simply, she checked him out. His well-defined chest, his slim but hard arms, his long fingers.

She wondered just how it would feel for him to run those hands across her body. He was obviously experienced, for he had Kenji, and Tomoe-san was beautiful, if the pictures of her were accurate.

Suddenly she was wishing that she could see more of him then just his chest, and she lightly ran her fingers down his unscarred cheek, and across the sensitive skin above the collar-bone. Her breathing became slightly more rushed, and her nipples tightened as she thought about being with him in bed. Her heart beat faster, and she blushed as her fingers started to drag down his chest.

But then his eyes snapped open, and they were blazing amber. His arm became a blur as he caught her forearm with his hand and pulled her down to his chest. She squeaked as her already aching (but was it a bad or a good ache, she idly wondered) breasts collided with his hard chest. Spears of pleasure shot down into her lower got, and she groaned sub-consciously.

Before she could wonder is she would or wouldn't survive the wrath of the hitokiri below her, his lips were upon hers, almost devouring them. She gasped, and he immediately took advantage of it, sweeping his tongue into her mouth.

She groaned, much more loudly now, and the pleasure grew much more sharp. She realized dimly that she was becoming wet, and desired his touch almost more then life itself.

But then he pushed her off of him, and she stumbled back until she hit her bed and sat down, hard. Just as she was about to ask why he did that, the door opened, and a nurse walked in. "Time for your pain medications, Himura-san…"

AN-

Okay, in terms of Aoshi and Misao's relationship, it is true that Misao is sixteen and Aoshi is twenty-six. And while that is illegal for them to have sex going by today's standards, it isn't in this story. People are far more concerned about repopulating the Earth then ethics. Plus, they love each other. So there.