Chapter Twenty-Eight – Bad Timing

The sound of the rain muffled the outside, making it feel like the world was limited to this small, dark space. Limited to simply the two of us. I leaned into Shingen's side, still shivering from the onslaught of memories.

"Cold?" He rubbed my back.

"It's the cave. I don't like… it's a long story." One I didn't feel prepared to tell at the moment.

"From what your murderous friend stated the other night, I gather you were locked in a box and left for dead -or worse?" So, Shingen had been paying attention to Iekane's moustache twirling. He never had had any trouble putting bits of information together.

"I was in there long enough that that itself became the 'or worse'." My hand tightened on his – he was the lifeline preventing me from reliving it.

"I'm sorry. This is probably the wrong time, the wrong place, to talk about it." He leaned away, then I heard something being dragged across the ground, and that clinking noise again. He handed me a bottle. Oh right, the trader had given him some sake. "Would this help?"

"You'd think so, but I found out the hard way that it makes all those memories more intense." Even a little alcohol aggravated my insomnia – more generally brought on flashbacks like the one I'd just experienced. I was not up for testing my limits tonight. But I understood that he had a need to do something for me, so I asked, "Is there's any food left?"

He took the bottle back, settled it somewhere out of reach. "Some, yes. Will you be alright for a moment while I try to find it?"

"Of course." Actually, I did not want to let go of his hand, but there was no way I would admit that to him.

His warmth left my side, but it was only a moment, as promised, before he returned, not just with the rest of the food, but with the other fur. He put his arm back around me and pulled the furs over top both of us. He handed me a rice cake, and I took a bite. It was about as cozy as you could get – in the middle of a scene from my worst nightmare. My evening had turned into a strange Sengoku version of Netflix and chill, except, dry rice instead of popcorn, a cave wall instead of a couch, a flashback instead of Netflix… and no chill because I had burned that bridge when I lied to him.

I owed him more than I could ever repay, especially after the way I had treated him.

"Thank you for – everything," I said. For helping me through a panic attack, for the companionship, for fishing me out of the river... for being kind when he had every reason to despise me. "And I'm sorry for-"

He didn't let me finish, choosing instead to go for a joke. "For making my heart stop when you fell out of the tree?" His arm tightened around me, pulling me close. I could feel his heart beating fierce and strong, but he was holding me as if he didn't want to let go – and I wondered if it had been a joke after all.

"I didn't fall, but yes, I'm sorry that scared you." I knew, though, that I had to get to the bigger reparation. He didn't deserve to continue thinking that I ran away because he'd scared me. "I'm sorry that I ran, that I made you believe you were forcing yourself on me. That I made you think you were frightening me. What I was afraid of wasn't you, it was…" I trailed off, even at that moment, unable to find the words for what I was afraid of. "You didn't force me. I wasn't unwilling… I just didn't want to be willing."

Could he untangle that mess of an apology? I wasn't even sure I could.

He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. I knew without asking that he meant to comfort, not seduce. My apology had given him the confidence to hold me without any further worry that I would misinterpret his motive. "Are you saying that you want me, but don't want to want me?"

"That's the sum of it, yeah." This cozy sitting on the lap thing was nice. I did my best to resist the urge to snuggle.

He rested his chin on the top of my head. Looked like the snuggle thing was on. "I understand. As it happens, I don't want to want you either."

Yes, he'd made that really clear over the past couple of days. But… "You want nearly every woman you cross paths with."

The response came, not in his practiced come-hither tone, but all in a blurt, as if my own inelegant words had been contagious. "I don't want to want you because you're not every woman. You lie to me with the ease of a practiced spy, have inconsistent respect for authority, disregard your own safety… and I can't stop thinking about the look you get on your face when you're trying to solve a puzzle, or about to enact a daredevil stunt that will turn my hair grey. I wanted you at the lake, I wanted you when you stole my clothes, I wanted you when you were 'Katsu,' and I still wanted you even when I was furious enough to strangle you."

I touched his face, my hand drawn there by his words, and the vulnerability behind them. His body relaxed, as if my hand had extracted the remainder of the emotional poison I'd administered the other night. He exhaled a long breath and added. "I may never stop wanting you."

Shingen was difficult to resist when he was being flirtatious and seductive. But when he spoke like this – it was compelling. Powerful. Irresistible. I felt… seen.

"I yield." Then I kissed him lightly. He put his hand on the back of my head, and returned the kiss, with a gentle, sweet one of his own, then pulled back with a sigh. That was all. That was enough. There was no reason to feel as if we were on top of a roller coaster, slipping over the edge, waiting for gravity to take over.

And yet…

I was holding my breath…

Waiting…

Gravity took over…

…pulling him back to me, me back to him. We crashed together, kissing each other deeply, mouths, lips, tongues, as the coaster ride slung us deep into a valley, whipped around a curve, zooming upside down, until my heart was in my throat, and I clung to him for all that I was worth, never wanting that ride to end.

For two people who don't want to want each other, we were doing pretty well.

When we finally parted, both out of breath, he rubbed his thumb across my mouth and said, "To make sure, that wasn't simply to play off the rest of your kiss debt, was it? Or because you're still feeling afraid?"

Responding was both easier and more difficult because I couldn't see his face, wouldn't be able to tell how he reacted to anything I said. "It was because you see me. Or ok right at this moment you can't physically see anything – and because, not that I have any right to expect you to believe me, and maybe you don't want to know this anyway, but, because I c-c-care about you."

"I do believe you." His hand trailed across my cheek, tracing me like a blind man would, learning the shape of my nose, my brows, my eyelids.

"Oh. Well. Good." I nestled under his chin. Let the snuggling continue.

"You're a masterful liar, but you can't tell the truth without adding an extra fifty words or stuttering." Again, he stroked my hair, gently untangling the snarls the day and the river had put into it.

"Huh. I'll have to work on that." Come to think about it, Sasuke had mentioned my 'word vomit' a couple of times, and-

Shingen was shaking… with laughter?

"What?!" What was funny about that?

That only made it worse. His laughter bounced off the walls of the cave and warmed in a way that the fur blanket had not. I don't know what I did to make him laugh so hard, but I hadn't heard him laugh this freely before, and if I had caused that, then, I guess I could put up with being the butt of some unknown joke.

"It's just… you sounded so unrepentant." He kissed the side of my head. "Actually, it's rather… enchanting… now that I'm not being driven mad by your many personas."

"If one is going to lie, then one ought to do a good job of it." Another rumble of laughter from him told me that that had sounded as stuffy to him as it had to my own ears. "But I try to only lie for a good reason, and I try to avoid to hurting people. I truly did not think you'd ever encounter me as a girl. And when you did… it got… complicated. I'm sorry that what I said, and what I didn't say, that night hurt you. It was the wrong kind of lie."

"My original misconception about the woman I met at the lake contributed to the, in your words, complications." His words were measured, as if he had sorted through his memories, and viewed them through a different set of perceptions. And I was gratefully that his ability to think strategically also gave him the ability rethink and reframe his assumptions. "I accept your apology, if you can accept mine for putting you in situations where you believed your only option was to run. You will always have another option."

I nodded, then realized he couldn't see me nod. "If it makes you feel any better, I did suffer a bit too from leaving so abruptly."

"Oh?" He took one of my hands, letting it rest lightly in his own, tapped my index finger with his. "We can't have that. Do you still need some attention, Devil? Care to show me where?"

Ah, the flirt was coming out to play again, but now that we appeared to be on the same page about… well, everything, I was more than ok with that. Sometimes, he was just… fun. I knew, and I suppose I had always known, that I could simply tell him that it was none of his business, or that I was tired… but it was too easy to fall back into that pattern of banter that we'd had when he met me as 'Angel.' "I would… but I managed to take care of matters on my own."

That, however, did not quite go over the way I had expected it to. There was an additional… tension… in his body. He put his mouth close to my ear and said in that honey-dripped voice he used on occasion, "The next time you feel the need to, er, shall we say, take matters into your own hands, come find me first."

With his thumb, he massaged the palm of my hand, tracing slow deliberate circles. The sensation rippled from my hand outward, as if someone had dropped a pebble in a still quiet pond. I paused to make sure I could speak without sounding as breathy as a someone filming an adult movie. "In order to help me out?"

"Mm, yes, if that is your wish. Otherwise," and his voice got even slower and sweeter, his breath tickling the skin below my ear, "I want to watch."

Oh, hello.

That warm and cozy feeling was rapidly replaced by an equally warm, but not-at-all cozy feeling. "Watch? But not participate?" All he was doing was holding my hand, but that was enough to convince me that his participation would be more fun than my solo act.

"I find this area here," he ran the back of his hand across my forehead, "to be more intriguing than any other part of you." He skimmed that hand down my side, stopping at my hip. "You know what brings you pleasure … why would I not want to learn that?"

Why not indeed? Although I imagined I could learn many, many things from him as well. "No knowledge is ever wasted."

"Exactly. I'm an expert at gathering information, analyzing it… applying it." He didn't move his hand, simply let it rest of my hip, its warm weight slowly heating the skin beneath. "What is it that you think about when you … care for yourself?"

Well… as long as he was asking...

"I like to mentally set a scene… envision a specific place, an atmosphere." An atmosphere that never had involved a cave, that was for certain. It had, in recent weeks, involved a specific lake.

"Specific partner?"

"Maybe."

"That night," he brought my palm to his mouth, kissed it, then his tongue traced those same circles his thumb had before, "while you were taking care of yourself, were you thinking of me?"

"Not at all," I was able to say confidently. Yes, I lied. And I knew he was aware of that.

"I'll take that as a yes, Goddess of Liars. Were you imagining me doing this?" His kissed along my jawline down to the base of my throat, and I almost leaped out of my skin in response. The too-large kimono had already slipped down, leaving my shoulder bare to the chill in the cave. "Or… maybe this?" He pushed the material further aside, cupped my breast, teased it with his thumb, the calloused texture of his skin sending sparks along every sensitive nerve.

I hadn't specifically imagined that – but it was almost a certainty that I would be adding it to the playlist. He brought his lips to my nipple, swiped it with his tongue, and I moaned my appreciation to him for enhancing my fantasy.

He turned his attention to my other breast, licking and sucking until I could stand it no longer. I tugged at his hair and brought his face back up to mine – I wanted his mouth on my own.

"Demanding, aren't you, Devil?" he said before our mouths came together, his lips making equal demands of mine. He pulled me closer, his kimono naturally falling open, and distracted by the intensity of skin gliding across skin, I didn't even notice that the hand that had been warming my hip had moved, until his fingers teased my legs open. "In your fantasies that night, was I here?"

"Y-y-yes," I managed to say. Damn it, he was right, I did stutter when I told the truth.

"Would you allow me to make that fantasy come true… now?" His hand stayed between my thighs, moving no further, but simply the fact that he was there created a glow all through me.

"Y-yes," I said again. I was more than ok with that. In fact, I'd be tempted to murder him if he didn't.

"I wish I could see your face," he said as his fingers reached the valley between my legs and lightly stroked its sensitive flesh.

Even if there had been light, he wouldn't be able to see my face, because I had buried it in the crook of his neck. Every time I drew a gasping breath, I could taste the salt of his sweat and feel his heart pounding against my cheek.

"There's a field outside of Kasugayama castle that, once the rain has ended, will be filled with wildflowers." I didn't know where he was going with the wildflowers, but did it matter? With deliberate slowness, he once again moved his thumb in a circle, pressing and stroking until I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and moaned. "I'll take you there, one morning at sunrise. We'll lie amongst the flowers, and you will be wearing nothing but the sky. I want to gaze in your lovely eyes when you take me inside your body."

Cave… what cave? I could see that field now, the flowers, and the sky. In the fantasy, Shingen was propped up on his forearms, gazing into my eyes, his hips between my own. But I didn't need the fantasy. The reality was working for me just fine. Shingen was attuned to my responses, knowing just how much pressure and tempo to put into his touch, and I arched into his hand, pushing against him, my breath in sharp gasps.

"That's it, Devil, let me do this for you." He paused for one agonizing second, resumed his caresses, faster, until everything inside clenched then let go, and I called his name until it echoed through the walls of the cave.

"I'm surrounded by your sweet voice," he whispered, pulling me close while I was still shaking with the aftershocks, his hands holding onto my trembling hips, until I collapsed into him, feeling too relaxed to move.

While I lay there in a puddle, he found the furs that had been thrown aside during our heated explorations and pulled it back up over both of us. It would have been easy to succumb to relaxation, but… fair is fair. I tugged at the sash of his kimono. "What about you? Don't you want…?"

He took my hands in his, kissed my fingers. "There's nothing I would enjoy more, but what I have in mind will have to wait until we're in a more friendly environment, or one of us could end up with a head injury."

What – exactly – did he have in mind?

But in this complete darkness, it was difficult to determine the boundaries of the cave walls, and I imagined the rock-strewn ground would present difficulties of its own – kneeling on a sharp stone would not be pleasant. With a sigh, I said, "I suppose."

"Your disappointment is flattering." And indeed, there was regret in his voice. He kissed my forehead. "I do intend to take you in that field of flowers, shower you in petals, kiss your sun-warmed skin."

It had better stop raining really damn soon

"That sounded like a poem." His voice was soothing, and I was being lulled halfway into sleep.

"I used to write poetry," he said, and somehow that didn't even come as a surprise to me. "I was told I was fairly good at it."

He sounded regretful, somehow, so I asked, "Why did you stop writing it?"

"Clan responsibilities. I discovered a greater talent for tactics and strategy, and it became necessary. There's only so much time..." He propped himself back against the wall of the cave. "We should at least try to get some sleep. Are you comfortable?"

His muscular thigh didn't exactly make for a soft pillow, but I was warm and sleepy enough that it didn't matter. "Yes. Are you? Wouldn't you rather lie down?"

"This will actually be better for me," he said, although what he meant by that, I didn't know. Before I could ask for clarification, he kissed my forehead and whispered, "sweet dreams, Devil."

At that, I let myself drift into a restless doze.

Although I would like to have been able to say that my claustrophobia and insomnia had been miraculously cured, or even that my exhaustion from the previous days overruled my subconscious, that was not the case. I woke up several times in the night, startled, and scared. But each time I woke up, I was comforted by the fact that Shingen was there with me, and I was able to take a deep breath and return to sleep.

At some point before dawn, I became conscious not of the pouring rain, but simply random patters as the wind blew water off the wet leaves. It had finally stopped raining. Hopefully that meant we would have an easier time fording the river.

Shingen muttered something about being hot.

That ego of his, I thought to myself… before realizing … he meant it literally. Even from where I was, I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Quickly I sat and looked at him – his eyes were shut, and one hand was in a fist against his chest. I touched his face – he was burning up. He opened his eyes, and a facsimile of a smile touched the edges of his lips when he saw me. "Devil."

He put his hand on top of mine. The light coming in from outside was grey, but bright enough that I could see the lines of pain across his forehead. "Headache?"

"I know I didn't spend the night drinking," he muttered.

"No. It seems you've gotten sick." Really sick, if I was any judge, and the faster I could get him out of here, the better. I hurried to find my clothes but froze when he replied.

"I'm always sick." He paused to let out a frighteningly deep cough. "It seems I've gotten worse."