This takes place just after the end of the anime. it's short, and hopefully sweet.
anyway, enjoy…

-

"Let me up." The voice was even and flat, but Kurz would not be so easily fooled. Her eyes were flashing fire.

"Not a chance." Really, what else was he supposed to say?

She growled beneath him, and he winced at the promise the rumble held. Serious bodily harm. He'd spend weeks in traction for this.

"Kurz…" her voice was warning, now.

He shook his head. He had the proverbial bull by the horns. He had his hands at the throat of a rabid pit bull as it snapped its jaws in his face. He had Melissa by her wrists, and she was panting beneath him, and while that was a state he'd hoped to have her in for quite some time, he wasn't really in any position to enjoy it. He knew he couldn't hold her forever, but he was in no hurry to hasten the murder he saw in her eyes.

"You little cocksucker!" she screamed, "I said, 'LET ME UP!'"

"Huh-uh, nope, negative, and in all other ways: no."

"I'm going to rip your goddamned dick off and feed it to you."

Great. There was incentive.

"I can't let you up, Mao."

"I'm going to have you fucking head on a platter sergeant," she promised.

"Look, in the interest of my own personal safety, I'm afraid I can't let you go until you calm down at least."

"I am calm!"

No, she wasn't.

"No you aren't. Listen, I said it was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. Can't you just let it go?"

"It most certainly could not have happened to anyone, and listen: you are incredibly lucky that I'm still recovering from that AS accident. Otherwise, I would already have broken this hold, and every bone in your body."

"Aw, man…" it came out as a whine. "You know, none of this was my idea. If I had my way, I'd still be tucked in bed dreaming of having you screaming under me… because let me tell you, the reality doesn't live up to the fantasy."

He may have been a bit bitter. Just a little. He hadn't asked Mao to book the training room, and he certainly hadn't asked to be roused from bed at 3 a.m. to practice hand to hand combat drills. In his mind, he more than made up for his skills (or lack thereof) in hand to hand with his skill as a sharpshooter.

And had it been his suggestion to practice restraining moves? No, that had been Mao too.

And she should have known that at some point he was going to accidentally (on purpose) bungle one of the moves, and grope her chest. It was inevitable, really.

And if she hadn't retaliated, then he wouldn't have reacted as he did, attempting one of the holds she'd taught him. Only he'd bungled it again, for real this time, and when he was supposed to end up holding her hands behind her, with his knee in the small of her back, he'd somehow managed to end up with her on her back, facing him as his legs wrapped around hers, as he straddled her hips. Her arms were, of course, stretched far over her head, where those claws of hers couldn't reach his face.

So really, this was all her fault.

He lamented the fact that, under different circumstances, he would probably find this situation enjoyable. But in his fantasies, Mao wasn't threatening to feed him 'little Kurzie' and struggling to get free.

And speaking of struggling, she was at it again, and her twisting and turning was causing her pelvis to grind into his… dear God, the last thing he needed right now was to become, er, excited.

"Mao, chill out," his voice came out hoarser than he intended, and Melissa stopped moving immediately.

"Kurz…"

"Yeah?"

"Kurz, that better be your sidearm."

He dropped his chin to his chest and groaned.

"Because if it isn't," Mao continued, "you are a dead man."

It wasn't. and he was. God he hoped Souske didn't deliver his eulogy… cut and dry, and not the type of speech to induce tears from all the lovely young ladies who were going to be heart broken over his demise… though what ever Souske said, it would have to be a damned sight better than anything Melissa would have to say about him.

Well, Kurz, he told himself, you've got about 60 seconds to live… what are you going to do?

He looked down into Melissa's blazing violet eyes, and came to a decision. If he was going to die anyway, damned if he wasn't going out with a bang.

He felt her stiffen in his arms as he brought his head down closer, felt her gasp against his mouth as he brushed his lips against hers in a feather light caress, and breathed in her sigh as he pressed firmer. He made no move to deepen the kiss, but his hands seemed to travel down her arms of their own accord, caressing the insides of her elbows on their way to her shoulders, where they stopped as he toyed wit the straps of her tank top.

God, but she had the most beautiful shoulders.

And that was the last thought he had before she clocked him so hard he was relatively sure his brain and brain-stem had parted company.

Mao, he was sure, would say that the difference was minimal.

"You jerk! How dare you… I can't believe…"

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs before opening his eyes to see Melissa crouched down over him. Another shake, and he realized that pressure in his head was actually on his head. And he was staring down the barrel of Mao's gun.

"Hey, now… um, come on… it wasn't all that bad, was it?"

"Kurz, if you ever try anything like that again, I'll have your balls."

He bit back the urge to say 'you certainly will.'

"Now, I think this was enough training for today… but I expect you to be here tomorrow, bright eyed and bushy tailed, is that clear?"

"Crystal."

And then, shock of all shocks, she holstered her gun, and got up to leave… without beating him senseless.

"And, no, Kurz, it wasn't that bad at all."

-

Erg… well, I made the mistake of watching this series about two weeks ago… I say mistake because at the time I was working on a chapter for my other fic, and ever since then, every time I sit down to write, all I can think about is Melissa and Kurz. Now, hopefully this M/K demon has been exorcised, and I can go back to business as usual.

Anyway, hope someone enjoyed this.