Chapter Four: Wild Ace and her Trump Card

            "Rain, can I see her now?"

            "Well… I guess it'll be okay. She's been asking for you." In a tent set up about nine yards away was Ravyn, and Schwartz needed to talk to her. Pushing aside the flap, he stepped inside, saw her on an open sleeping bag with a familiar white and black object serving as her pillow.

            "What's up with you and tigers, Ace?"

            "I like them. Rain didn't seem to mind much, anyway. I… Swartz, thank you… for rescuing me. You didn't have to, you know."

            "Yes, I did. Not even God himself can ask me to sit by while the woman I love is in danger."

            "You are one walking cliché." Ravyn informed him, doing her best to keep a straight face.

            "What, I'm not romantic enough for ya?"

            "Seriously… why did you come look for me? Why, after all this time?"

            "Ravyn, I honestly thought you'd come find me. I had a job, and since we were both bearers of the crests, I thought… I'm sorry."

            "It was fun, working with you when the Dark Gundam awoke in Shinjoukou… and then, when I tried to follow you here… he caught me, somehow."

            "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He gave my Gundam a KO, and I fell, twisted my ankle. Then, I was on my back, and he… I can still feel him, his fingers wrapping around my throat…." She trailed off, and his eyes cut to the black bruises covering her throat.

"Don't say any more… Ravyn, did he… I mean-" She shook her head. Schwartz stood up, tied the tent flaps shut, and pulled off his mask. His dark brown hair fell around his shoulders (I only have a slight idea what Swartz Brooder really looks like, go with it) and swept lightly over the piercing dark eyes that swept possessively over Ravyn, making her shiver. Pulling off a glove, he ran a finger down the side of her face, then pressed his hand against her cheek. "Oh, Ravyn… can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I do, Schwartz!" She slid her hand over the one held against her. "Of course I do." Gently, he kissed her lips, a slight brush of his mouth. She opened her mouth, didn't protest when his tongue brushed over hers. Drinking deeply the sweetness of those lips for the first time in two years was mind-bending. She tasted like spiced honey, so deliciously sweet it made him crazy.

And Schwartz… his mouth was generous, sensual, but edged with aggression and fierce desire. Thrusting into her mouth with his tongue, into that dimension of moist heat, he felt her arms wrap around his neck.

                        *                      *                      *                      *

"What are they doing in there?" Epona cried in despair. "It's driving me crazy!" The rest of the Shuffle Alliance sat around the campfire, Epona splayed out on a large, flat rock. "Anyone know? Oh, my God!" She gasped as an idea hit her. "They better not be making out in there!"

"Whoa, whoa! How old are you? Ten?" Chibodee cried.

"Where do these grown-up ideas come from?" George asked her incredulously. The little girl smiled mysteriously.

"I eavesdrop."

"No kidding." Domon murmured.

"What the heck are they doing? He's been in there half an hour!" Rain and the other girls started to laugh. "What?"

"Epona!" Schwartz said, and looking up, there he was, right behind her. She nearly fell off her rock. "We were talking. Don't be nosy."

"Nosy? Nosy!? I am not nosy! How can you say I'm nosy, I-"

"Mademoiselle Epona, come here, I wish to show you something." George called to the young girl, who leapt gracefully from the rock and dashed over. Even I have to admit she's graceful, especially for someone so young, Domon thought to himself. He had to smile when George rose and bowed to her, saying, "I have a gift for you." The little girl's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"What is it?"

"Well, I was thinking, how would you like to learn to fence?"

"That's sword play, right? Sure! Oh, but I don't have a sword." Her expression fell, and George couldn't believe how sad she looked.

"That is your gift: a rapier, one of the best. Of course, you must take care of it yourself."

"I will! Promise."

"Call me George, sil vous plait."

"All right. You know what?"

"What?"

"I have a new best friend. How cool is that?" Domon, overhearing, groaned in anticipation of the interest that would bring to life.

"Did you hear that, Rain? George will never survive Epona!"

"Oh, he will, too. It's Epona who'll never survive, what with that chivalrous charm of his." What does she mean by that?