Title: Feelings

Author: Shinichi

Rating: PG

Pairings: Aoshi/Misao

Status: Finished –One-shot–

Summary: AU OOC. Aoshi found out the hard way to know that words are very important.

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki Nobuhiro Sensei, Sony, Jump comic and etc. I'm just a little girl with no money. So don't sue me.

It wasn't raining heavily-a steady drizzle rather, but enough to make the streets lights and the fabulous neon lights of Surfers' Paradise reflects brilliantly in the puddles.

Makimachi Misao shrugged uncomfortably in the long plastic raincoat, which was a bit like wearing a portable sauna in the humid, muggy conditions. She longed to tear it off and feel the rain on her skin, but that would be the height of the folly although the streets appeared deserted- it was long after midnight.

She hesitated for a moment and eyed the lone taxi in the cab rank. But she shook her head resolutely and stepped off the pavement, and almost under the wheels of a motorbike which roared to life a split second earlier and come around the corner like a bolt from the blue.

It wasn't immediately apparent to Misao that her worst problem was not that she was sitting in the gutter breathless and shaken as well as bruised and grazed. But when the bike rider, who had leapt off his machine, leered down at her with a wolfish grin on his face and an unmistakable gleam in his eye, she shrank away from him.

He laughed coarsely and said, "Well now, it must be my lucky guy. Fancy running into a little doll bird like you!"

Misao grabbed her raincoat which had fallen open and glanced around wildly, but the lone cab had apparently decided to call it a night in the absence of her fare and all that it could be seen of it was its tail lights disappearing down the street. Another wild glance revealed not a soul, so she to scramble up and fight off the bike rider's assistance at the same time but was unsuccessful. If I wasn't wearing this awful uniform I would have took the pocket knife with me. Damn! She thought inwardly. He hauled her to her feet with another unpleasant laugh and breathed beer-laden fumes all over her.

"Let me go!" she commanded in a tight little voice as his hands lingered on her.

"Who are you trying to kid, sweetheart?" he sneered. "I have seen you before- and I know the likes of you sheilas real well…"

"I'll scream!" she threatened, and tried to pull away with all her strength but he only latched on to her more determinedly as she struggled desperately.

Neither of them heard the gentle shush of tires on the wet road or the murmur of a powerful motor idling, but when Misao managed to get an arm free and aim a blow on her assailant's head, the deed was done, although not by her- and the bike rider crumpled into the gutter.

Misao blinked, and suddenly became aware that she was bathed in light, and that a metallic blue Mercedes had pulled up beside her and that there is a man behind her and tensed as the bike rider sat up and groaned. He stood up unsteadily and surveyed the scene and with a string of curses directed at Misao, got onto his bike and roared away.

She swayed where she stood, feeling physically sick and still without a word, the man who saved her picked her up and put her into the Mercedes. HE got into the driver's seat and closed his door and flicked on the overhead light. The he said abruptly, "Did you know him?"

Misao took her hand from her brow and stared at the man incredulously. He was in his late twenties, she judged, tall with black glossy hair that covered his eyes. His eyes… beautifully blue… ice blue. There was a restrained aura of wealth and sophistication about him and he is incredibly good looking not a single flaw.

He grinned suddenly and said politely, "Have you quite finished? I asked you a question."

This brought Misao up with a start. "I did not know him," she replied tartly, "What do you think?"

HE raised his eyebrows. "I am not sure what to think. Do you usually go around dressed like that at two o'clock in the morning?"

Misao followed his gaze down to her dirty, ripped raincoat which had fallen open again, revealing her scant costume beneath it. Her long black fishnet stockings were also torn and one knee was bleeding- and suddenly it was all too much for her on top of an arduous night's work.

She dashed fiercely at the tears on her cheeks, though, and said bitterly, "You can think what you like. You're all the same anyway, whether you come on motorbikes or in fancy cars. That doesn't mean to say…"

"My dear," He interrupted, and shot out a long arm to stop her from fumbling on the door handle, "Stop it."

"I want out."

"No."

"Why are you there anyway? Are you stalking me?" Misao said, glaring at him.

"Yes, I need to tell you something." 

"Alright fine, you have your say and then can you let me go?" she said with great restrain.

And before she could do anything, he set the car in motion.

Misao gasped, but he merely advised her to leave the door alone. "You won't want to end up in a gutter twice in one night, now would you?"

"Where are you bringing me to?" She asked panicky.

"Somewhere private where we could know each other better, where else," his voice deepened.

Her tongue seemed to tie itself in knots. "Stop," she said breathlessly at last. "Stop this instant, do you hear me?"

"Alright," He shrugged and nosed the car into a parking bay beside the beach. It was still raining and the dark sea before them was indistinguishable from the land. "This is as good as any to get started," he said with a mocking smile.

"I…" Misao swallowed several times, and then made a dive for the door handle, but it refused to budge and she realized the car had a central locking device which he had obviously operated during the short drive.

"What's the matter? Not that I don't know you… Makimachi Misao."

"I just don't want to stay in this car with you Shinomori Aoshi." Misao glared at him.

"Oh come on! Are you still angry with me?"

"Angry? Why should I? You and I are not involved in any relationship, you are a free agent and so am I. We just went out a few times that's all. And if you want to go out with another person feel free to do so!" Misao bit out.

"Be quiet," he barked.

She stared at him. She'd heard that tone of voice before but he never used it on her. "Now wait a minute," she began.

He turned to face her. "I said be quiet." He had lowered his voice this time but there was no mistaking the warning tone in it. "I have something I want to say to you and I don't want you interrupting every two seconds."

"You want?" she cried. "You have no right…"

His long arm shot out and he clamped a hand over her mouth. "Misao," he said in a mild reasonable tone, "am I going to have to bind you and gag you? I'll do it, you know. I'll do whatever it takes, but you are going to listen to me."

He removed his hand from her mouth and she gave him a sullen look. . She snapped her mouth shut and gazed stonily out of the window. HE could talk until doomsday for all she cared and she wouldn't open it again. When he'd finished, he'd take her home and maybe this time she really would see the last of him.

He began to speak, his voice low and precise, just as though he was reciting a speech from memory.

"I am going to tell you what happened that Saturday night. Straight facts. All I ask is that you listen. Then the rest is up to you." He drew in a lungful of air. "Our Paris rep arrived in town and brought his wife with him. I won't bore you with all the details, but he came to matter of importance, or I would never have passed up the chance with you. We spent all day at the office going over our business, then that evening we decided we need to continue the meeting over dinner.'

HE stopped for a moment, frowning straight ahead, his habitual gesture when he was in deep thought. Then he turned to her and forced her to meet his eyes.

"When I arrived at the restaurant, his wife was with him and she had taken it upon herself another woman, the one whose picture was in the paper and I was stuck. At that point I could hardly get up and walk out." HE spread his hands wide. "Then the photographers showed up, and the rest is history. I would have stopped him, but at the time it never occurred to me it would end up in a gossip column or that you'd see it. Or, for that matter," He added bleakly, "That you'd even care."

She glanced sharply at him trying to read his thoughts but his face revealed nothing. "Are you telling me that you have no idea who that woman is?"

HE gave her a bewildered look. "I just know that she is a friend of my associate's wife."

Should she believe him? Was he really telling that accomplished liar? And why should he bother to lie? With all her heart she wanted to believe him, to trust him.

"The only matter of any importance here," He went on in a measured tone, "Is that you know I didn't lie to you."

 "Are you through?" she asked.

"Yes. I guess so."

"And do you agree I've listened without interrupting once?"

"Yes."

"Then will you please take me home now?"

"You don't believe me," He stated flatly.

"Oh yes I believe every word."

"But you still want me to take you home."

"Yes. You promised me that you would."

Without a word, he started the engine and silently drove Misao back. Misao couldn't see his face nor would she want to. He said his piece, she listened, and she meant it when she told him she believed him. He hadn't really lied to her about the lady. It was just that it really didn't make any difference. Nothing changed. The frozen surface was still intact. Not one word about how he felt about her, about love, had been uttered.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes, more depressed now than when she believed she will never see him again. At least she had been able to blame him for betraying her trust. The wound had been healing. Now it was raw and bleeding again.

The skies had opened up with a vengeance, and heavy torrents of rain were beating against the car windows. They rode in silence until they reached the front of her apartment. When they were parked at the kerb, she turned to him again.

"Don't get out. It is pouring."

Then before he could stop her, she opened the door, stepped out into the downpour and ran towards the entrance, the driving rain stinging her face and splashing up from the pavement onto her legs. In the few seconds it took her to get cover of the canopy, she was wet all through.

Before going inside, she turned around. She wanted one last look before he left. The sleek Mercedes was just pulling away from the kerb and her spirits sank lower. He is really gone now and out of her life for good.

She stared after the retreating car through the dark and the rain until the red tail-lights disappeared from view and as she stood there dripping, she had to wonder if she hadn't just sealed her own doom. Maybe she had been wrong to insist hearing the words he seemed unable to say.

He made mistakes in his pursuit of her, but any man who had gone to the lengths he had to win her had to care a great deal. Were the words really important? And wasn't it largely her own pride that had driven them apart?

Then she saw him. He was standing at the kerb, the rain beating down on him, his hand in the pocket of him coat, his shoulders hunched forward. Her heart began to pound and as she watched him, transfixed, as he came walking slowly towards her. He stood before her, staring down at her, his clothes and hair soaking wet, the raindrops still streaming down his face and under the collar of his coat. His blue eyes were full of misery.

"I can't leave you," he said. "I can't give you up."

As their eyes locked together, her resolve faltered and the last of her resistance evaporated. She was relieved to see him, so glad he stayed. She hadn't lost him after all.

"You better come up and dry off." She said with a smile.

His eyes lit up and when she saw the look of relieve on his face she knew that she have done the right thing. When they reached her apartment, she led him into the kitchen.

"I'll get some towel for you to dry off."

In the bathroom, she quickly stripped off her wet clothes, released her long hair from the usual braid and put on a warm robe and wrapped a towel around her head. Although she realised she was taking a risk, with no idea what lay ahead, it seem to be the right thing to do with him just down the hall waiting for her.

When she came back to the kitchen, he had shed his coat and his shirt and hung them neatly over the chairs. He was standing at the window, his hands braced on the counter, gazing out at the rain, which was making so much noise that he hadn't realised that she was back. As she stood in the doorway watching him, the lean supple bare back, the broad muscular shoulders, she was struck dumb at the sheer beauty of the man and she knew without any doubt that she loves this man called Aoshi Shinomori and wanted him at any terms.

"Here," She said, walking towards him holding out the towel.

When he heard her voice, he slowly turned around. The black hair was still wet and hanging lankly over his eyes. Wordlessly he took the towel and ran it briskly over his hair.

When he finished, he set it down on the table and took a step towards her. "Misao, I've got to say one last word with you before I go," When she didn't say anything, he went on 'I told you about that woman. You said you believed me but that didn't make any difference. I need to know why. There must be something more."

She couldn't move, couldn't speak. He waited a few seconds. "I apologise for sort of abducting you tonight. It was my last resource and I couldn't leave you there. I have to save you. Please tell me what to do. I tried buying you, I tried treating you nicely, and I tried staying away. I told you once I never give up." He paused and drew in a big breath.  "But if you tell me honestly right now that you care nothing for me, then I'll go away and never will I try to see you again."  

She couldn't do it. The words couldn't come. She looked up at his helplessly. He was waiting for her to speak but what could she say?

He shrugged and gave her a diffident smile. "I think you do care about me but I'm not so in love with me to believe that you were upset to know I was with another woman."

Then the dam burst. "Well you were wrong; it did upset me to see you with another woman. It upset me a lot. It hurts even more to know that you don't love me." She exclaimed with tears in her eyes. His eyes bulged out.

"I didn't know. I thought…"

"Well you thought wrong… I was jealous."

He shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't understand. Why didn't you say so? I tried so hard to keep my feelings."

"That's the problem. I am a real, live flesh and blood woman with feelings and desire not a tender plant… I need to know what your feelings are... I need to know that you care about me."

"But I DO care! I have tried every single way to show it to you."

"I know," she admitted. "I'll grant you that but you never told me."

His eyes widened in astonishment. "God!! I almost lost you because I didn't tell you my feelings… Misao I love you! I love you with all my heart. I even want you to be my wife."

"Aoshi that is all I wanted to hear. Was it so hard?"

"Then…" He broke off and took a step towards her, bridging the gap between them. "Misao… I love you. I want a family, a home."

HE stood before her, not quite touching and gazed down into her eyes as though struggling to penetrate through them into her very soul. Then in the next second, he had reached out to her and she had fallen towards him. As his arm went around her, she sank blissfully against his board chest, she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. It seems so right to be in his arms.

She drew her head back and gazed up to him and said "I love you Aoshi."

"Marry me?"

"That I could accept." Misao said with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~FIN~~~~~~~~~

YAY!! Finally finished…

Surfer's Paradise: - It is just something I just read about and thought I will use it.