Chapter Thirty-Seven - *Ahem*

"I can hear you thinking again." Shingen rubbed my shoulders as I prepared a cup of 'Chiyome's tea' for myself and a regular blend for him.

Hopefully he didn't literally know my thoughts because they were all over the place. One of those places was frustration that he wasn't even considering Sasuke's recommendation. But it was easier to dwell on that frustration than to consider the ramifications of loving this man. I needed to put that emotion in its own compartment for a little while. If he knew I loved him, would he be more – or less - willing to go with Sasuke to the future? My gut told me it was the latter.

Settling on a new topic entirely, I handed him the gift. "Here, this is for you." He examined the cloth wrapped bundle without opening it. Ha! I knew he was going to be the type of person to sh-

He shook it and listened to it, but there wouldn't be much in that to give it away. "It's not my birthday."

"My brother and I had this tradition of 'just because' gifts. We'd see something, or think of something that we believed the other would like and go ahead and gift it, even if there was no occasion. Just because we wanted to." In fact, usually the just because gifts ended up being items I got more use and enjoyment from than the official occasion gifts. Once he had given me a key hanger in the shape of a cat that basically had prevented me from locking myself out dozens of times (which… probably had been his strategy as inevitably I called him to bring over my spare key).

He hefted the package a few times. "Clever. If he ever forgot your birthday, he could always remind you that he'd given you gifts all year around."

"I suppose. Not that he ever forgot my birthday." He couldn't, unless he forgot his own.

"A paragon, your brother is." Had Shingen ever forgotten a birthday or other special occasion in his time? Unlikely – the man remembered everything – he would make it a point to remember birthdays. "I almost worry what he'll think of me."

I let him stew another moment before I added, "We were born on the same day." Was he ever going to open it? The anticipation was driving me crazy.

"Ah, twins. You never mentioned." He seemed to be filing that away in his brain somewhere. "I had the impression he was the younger. You seem like you're protective of him."

"No, he's older, but not by much." Aki had informed me that twins were considered unlucky in this era, so I normally didn't mention our shared birthday. "I guess I'm protective because he's very clumsy. And he gets motion sickness." And because it was my fault that we ended up here in the first place.

At last, Shingen untied the bundle to reveal the puzzle box. Using various types of wood, Tokuro had created a mosaic-like picture of a moon over a lake, surrounded by trees. It had reminded me immediately of the lake where Shingen had first "met" me as Katsuko.

"This is beautiful." He spent a moment turning it around to examine the lacquered wood from all sides. "Does it open? It sounds hollow, but there doesn't appear to be a lid to it."

"That, you have to figure out on your own. It's a puzzle box. It does open, but there are twenty-one steps you have to perform in the right order before it will." Puzzle boxes were not completely unheard of in this era, although they wouldn't become more popular for another century or so. I had been extremely lucky that Tokuro made them.

"Twenty-one steps?" His eyes bright with interest, Shingen set about trying to solve the puzzle.

Yes! Gift giving achievement unlocked. I rested my head on my hands while I watched him try to work the various levers and catches. He glanced over and caught my eye. "Thank you. This is a perfect gift… although, I imagine it might distract me from my reports… and… you thought of that already, didn't you?"

I buffed my nails on my shoulder. "It crossed my mind that it might be a good strategy to get you to take a break on occasion."

"Thank you for caring." His gaze turned hot and intent, and my memory saved that look and the perfect moment that surrounded it – the late afternoon sun turning the tips of his hair to deep red, the crisp coolness to the air that signaled the approach of Fall, the sharp scent of tea and the whisper of the kimono across my skin. I took a deep breath… and held it… waiting…

The sly smile crept across his face, and there was no need for him to 'hear' me think, because what I wanted was being broadcast from every cell in my body.

He crooked his finger at me, and when I leaned closer, he put his hands on my face and pulled me in for a kiss. The kiss was brief, but even after he drew back, his hands remained tangled in my hair, as he focused those darkening eyes on mine. "It occurs to me that there might be another strategy you might utilize to get me to take a break."

Then his mouth was on mine as he kissed me again – not the light affectionate pecks I'd been the recipient of this past week but one with a hunger that hinted of barely contained desire. The passion of his embrace left me short of breath, and I hurried to steady myself on his desk before I collapsed into him. Papers crinkled under my hand. "Your reports!" We'd almost knocked them all to the floor.

"I don't care at the moment… but you're right, I'd care tomorrow if I had to sort through them again." He stood, then scooped me into his arms. "The remainder of work can wait until then."

"It's still daylight outside." Well, more or less anyway. Not that I was complaining.

"The better to see you with, my dear." He gazed down at me with a combination of desire and tenderness.

"It's ten steps from here to your futon. I can walk, you know." Although the Rhett Butler impression was kind of hot, I was still worried about his health.

"I know." He gently set me onto the futon. "This was more efficient." He knelt next to me and began raining kisses along my jaw. "Plus, it has the added benefit of showing you how much I've recovered – and believe me, I'm about to thoroughly demonstrate that."

"Which I look forward to but weren't we going to discuss—ah" I forgot where I was going with that, when his teeth raked across my earlobe then nipped down the side of my neck to the hollow of my throat - a place he'd already learned could take me from zero to sixty in a flash.

"Talk later. I've got other plans for your mouth." His tender attention to my throat had been more than enough to convince me - talking could wait.

"Alright… later," I breathed out before his lips claimed mine again in a searing kiss and no, there was no talking, as any thought or intention I may have had evaporated in the heat of his mouth. I slipped my hands under the soft fabric of his kimono, sliding them across his chest, then his shoulders, wanting to feel the texture of his skin beneath my fingertips, his warmth in my arms. As the kiss took over, we melded to each other- my legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands caressing my hips and butt. Though fully dressed, our bodies found a rhythm and we moved against each other. Hands, hips, tongue, teeth… I couldn't get enough of his kiss. I couldn't get enough of him. I would never have enough of him.

Eventually, we broke apart to breathe, and perhaps I was hyperventilating… even looking at him made me dizzy. Or maybe I was dizzy with the need to be closer to him.

I reached for my obi, intending to yank my clothes off, but he stopped my hands. "Let me." He skillfully made short work of untying the knot. Reverently he loosened my kimono, slipping it off my body, his fingers lightly skimming across my skin along the way. "Two presents that I get to unwrap today."

"Why do I feel like I'm the one receiving the gift?" I watched him shrug out of his own clothes, admiring as the last rays of daylight outlined his muscles and illuminated the faint shimmer of sweat across his chest and stomach. Sasuke had been accurate when he compared Shingen to Thor.

With that wicked smile across his face, he slowly lowered me backward onto the futon, his hands protecting the back of my head. "Because you. Are. Very. Perceptive." He emphasized each word with light pecks across my cheekbones, forehead, and nose, then punctuated the phrase with a deep kiss that stole my breath. While his tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing mine out to play, his fingers traced a path from the base my throat to my belly before reversing course to palm my breast.

It wasn't until he answered one of my gasps with a moan that I realized I was unconsciously performing the same explorations on him. Maybe I wasn't ready to say out loud the words, 'I love you,' but my body declared it in countless nonverbal ways – fingers pressing into his strong shoulders, breasts sliding against his chest, leg hooking around his hip to draw him closer.

"Not so fast… we have all night," he said, his voice low and thick with desire, "I intend to worship you properly." He brushed my hair out of my eyes, then for a long moment simply held my face in his hands and gazed down at me. The combination of heat and affection in his eyes nearly broke whatever little control I had left. If he intended to let this fire build all night long, there was no way I was making it until sunrise. But anything I might have said in protest of that plan was lost in my moans of pleasure when he slid his lips to my breasts to lick and nip at them, his tongue lapping the nipples, until they were tight and aching with a need for release. Even then there was no respite – instead he sucked lightly on them. I moaned as I writhed beneath him.

At last, he took pity on me and returned his attention to my neck – or maybe he was simply extending the torture, making sure our lovemaking indeed would continue through the night – then he hugged me closer and whispered, "You're so beautiful… strong… vital… I barely believe you're real."

"Maybe … I'm not real."

"Hm… better check." His hand glided down my body, taking the time to caress every inch of skin encountered. "Feels real. You taste…" He sucked on my earlobe.

I gasped and bit his shoulder in response. "Sorry!"

I hadn't meant to bite him.

"Don't apologize… I'm happy that pleased you." His hand dipped lower and lower, light fluttering touches along my inner thighs, before he parted my legs; flicking and teasing that already over-sensitive place between them.

Once again I gasped then squeezed him closer, feeling like I needed to hang on to something, or I would fall, but I was already lying down, where would I fall? Into him, I was falling into him.

He took his time with those caresses, banking a fire, but in no apparent hurry to build it up… just slow, deliberate strokes, as I arched into him, pressing him onward. At that encouragement, he inserted one, then two, fingers inside me. My brief thought of 'wait, not there, go back to the touching' was immediately cancelled by a 'Oh! There! There is good after all,' when his calloused fingertip brushed across a spot that sent a jolt through me.

He laughed suddenly. "You know, this is the only time your thoughts are visible on your face… I should just keep you like this all the time, Devil." He laughed again, as my face very likely projected my opinion of that plan.

Just for that, I let my hands do some exploring too, gliding down the length of him, and feeling a surge of feminine power at his answering groan and the way he hardened at my touch. I wanted to do to him what he was doing to me. I wanted him to feel at least some of what I was feeling.

Victory was short however as his fingers continued that persistent rhythm inside me and soon it was all I could do to hold onto him, as breathless with anticipation and the increasing pressure deep inside me, I dug my heels into the futon and pushed into his hand, frantic for more. "Shingen, please."

Finally, he gazed into my eyes as he positioned himself above me and leisurely pressed forward, entering me so slowly that every advancement sent waves through me.

As he held still for an extended moment, I breathed through the internal sensations… the soft skin covering the hardness … an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome fullness… adjusting around him … and the intimidating thought that we were closer than we ever had been….

He brushed my hair out of my eyes. "Good?"

I nodded. Good. Slightly overcome. But… good.

He kissed me again, whispering, "Then, look at me," before gradually moving, a glacial pull and push that started the pressure building up again, especially when he brought his hand back down to tease the skin in the valley between my thighs.

I arched to take him deeper, faster, my breath releasing in half-sobs and gasps, as he increased his pace and… I didn't want that feeling of anticipation to end, and yet I couldn't stop urging him onward… until…

A shower of sparks spread throughout my entire being, my legs spasming around his back, then while I was still vibrating with the pleasure of that explosion, he allowed himself to reach his own release with a moan, then relaxed on top of me.

We lay there, simply breathing…

Being…

His now-damp hair tickled my forehead… or maybe it was my hair… I couldn't even tell where the boundary of me ended and the one of him began.

Eventually, when my heartrate slowed enough to allow speaking, I sighed, "God."

He pushed himself up on his elbows – yes, his hair had fallen into his eyes – it was always falling into his eyes, wasn't it? I brushed it back into place, letting my hand linger on his forehead. He smiled down at me with a look of wicked glee, "Yes, Devil?"

Which is why our afterglow devolved into me snort laughing into his shoulder. He laughed with me then rolled us over, and we lay there, hands linked together, legs still entangled, sharing another moment of joy.

I wish I could say that after that night, Shingen and I had a long talk and he agreed with the wisdom of going to the future with Sasuke. In fact, it would also have been acceptable if we'd talked and he convinced me that he was healthy enough to wait until the Togakushi "node" (as Sasuke had taken to calling it) opened. Neither of those things happened.

Instead, he continued to duck the conversation altogether. I knew what he was doing. And he knew that I knew. It didn't make pinning him down any easier. He'd simply say, "I don't want to fight about this – lets discuss it later."

But he always had an excuse, a distraction, a way to avoid that later discussion.

Meanwhile the nights were *ahem* lovely, and aside from avoiding a certain topic of conversation, the days were pretty stellar too. I was learning a lot about tactics and strategy.

"I wish my instructors in school had been more like you," I told him one afternoon. "I might have skipped school less often."

"Was that a prelude to a teacher – student fantasy?" Shingen gave me one of those wicked grins. "If so, let me get through a couple more reports and we can explore that."

"It wasn't." Although now that he mentioned it, it was going to be on my mind. "I'm learning so much more from you than I ever did in school. You make it all interesting, even things I never would have been interested in before, like the flood management." I didn't throw that out there randomly – I was curious about the zutsumi that he'd engineered that was still in existence in my day.

"And what were you interested in, Devil… also, what does skipped school mean?" Hm… maybe I had been too subtle in my questioning.

"Um, well, it means instead of being in school like I was supposed to be, I was out doing something else." That comment got me a stern enough look that I moved 'student-teacher fantasy' higher up the ladder of things that might be fun to try. "What I was interested in, and what I skipped school to do, is go snowboarding."

Before he could ask the obvious question, I continued, "Um, when you were a child, did you ever use a large piece of wood and slide down a snowy hill on it?" I didn't know when sleds made it to Japan.

He appeared to think about it, then grinned. "Not that I can recall, although it sounds like something that I would have enjoyed."

"Snowboarding is something like that, except you stand on the board, it goes a lot faster, and there are snow parks that build courses you can ride." I waved my hand through the air in an approximation of a half-pipe run. "It's the closest thing to flying without an airplane." I had already explained modern transportation to him previously.

"I'm not completely picturing it, but I believe I have the general concept… it sounds dangerous." He gave me a chiding look. Yup. Teacher/student fantasy keeps zooming up the charts. "Therefore, it must have been something you did every moment you could, Devil."

"I wore a helmet," I said. But we were getting away from the original topic, and since I was trying to be a good student, I steered the conversation back to the reports on the flood plains. But as I continued to subtly question him (although I don't know why I was bothering to be subtle, given the amount of things Sasuke, Mai, and I had already affected, there were probably hundreds of temporal paradoxes already in play) about his ideas for damming and diverting the rivers, it became clear that Shingen hadn't built the zutsumi yet.

Was this a sign that his illness would be treated successfully in the future? Or did it mean that in this timeline, the project would never be completed, potentially putting hundreds, maybe thousands at risk of losing their lives and homes over the next five centuries? Something definitely to discuss with Sasuke. I had a list. It was very long at this point.

I turned back from my musings to see that Shingen had paused in his report reading, seeming frozen in place. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk.

"What is it? Bad news?" I peered over his shoulder – the report seemed fairly innocuous.

"No." His voice was rough. He cleared his throat. "Thinking… time for a break."

"Alright." I was happy he seemed to be taking better care. "Tea?"

"I'm… out. Run to the kitchens… and beg for more leaves?" He squeezed my hand, almost painfully.

"Of course," I gave him a quick smile and headed out the door. I walked about ten feet away, then took off my sandals and tiptoed back.

He was not out of tea.

He'd sent me away on purpose.

I thought I knew why.

I hoped I was wrong.

A moment later my theory was confirmed when there came a painful sounding cough. Should I allow him to think his distraction had succeeded?

But the coughing went on and on, then-

CRASH!

The clatter of something falling had me rushing back inside to find him doubled over, struggling to breathe. He held a handkerchief to his mouth – but his hand couldn't cover the red stain that was spreading across the pale fabric.