Ice King by Amethyst Serenity

Summary: Mamoru Chiba's the Ice King, the unapproachable idol of Azabu High. Usagi Tsukino is an adorable but clueless transfer student. Will the fiendish Belle keep them apart or will the Ice King finally melt? And what about Ami, Minako and Motoki?

AN: Yes, I know I should be finishing my other story, especially since I'll be taking a month-long trip to China soon, but I needed a break from the angst-humor of "Farewell". Special thanks go to Aridemarcus, Deny and Tina Bui for putting up with my babbling about this fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Meeting

Mamoru Chiba, the Mamoru Chiba, sauntered down the hallways of Azabu High. Instinctively, the students (and teachers) moved out of his way because no one *ever* messed with Chiba, even if he was only a junior. The arrogance of his tilted head and the swift, controlled grace of his silent movements evoked the image of a lethal panther on the prowl. As he walked by, girls sighed longingly and whispered of his short, rumpled midnight hair, the seductively dark promises in his cool sapphire eyes, his sensual mouth and the chiseled muscles of his tall, lithe frame. His romantic allure was further enhanced by the possession of a sleek, red-trimmed black racing motorcycle *and* a sporty silver Porsche. Despite (or perhaps because of) his popularity with the opposite sex, he indifferently rebuffed all their overtures. According to the gossipmongers, no girl had *ever* cracked his glacial armor. Chiba's charisma, straight A grades and imperturbable composure in every situation (from drooling girls to chemistry lab explosions) earned him the sobriquet of the Ice King. Even though he was much admired (and envied), no one knew too much about him. Impertinent personal questions were normally greeted with the sardonic arch of a raven eyebrow and dismissive silence. Few, if any, in the school were privileged with his friendship. In short, Mamoru Chiba was the unapproachable, enigmatic idol of his school (or so he liked to think).

Before reaching his next class, Chiba paused when he heard someone shouting his name. Frowning slightly, he noticed a chocolate-eyed, flame- haired girl frantically waving at him. Belle Fonce, the current bane of his existence. He continued walking but at a much quicker pace. She just *wouldn't* leave him alone! His aloof attitude and most contemptuous words, usually effective in quelling the worst bullies and undesirable flunkies, had no effect on her one-track brain. Panting after a short sprint across the hall, Belle stumbled to a halt next to him and practically glued herself to his arm with a sugary smile. Surveying her with an icy, objective eye, he noticed her relentlessly trendy, slightly too tight clothes: a gaudy gold necklace, a beige tube top revealing most of her stomach, black hip-huggers with flared bottoms and black boots with skyscraper heels. Irritated with her artificially sweet, fawning behavior, Chiba wrenched his arm out of her clinging grasp and moved away. Pouting, Belle followed him while taking deep breaths to exaggerate her chest size.

"DAR-ling, why are you being so mean?"

"I don't talk to strangers." He didn't look at her since he ignored her whenever possible.

"You can't really turn *me* down, Mamoru! I am *the* prettiest, most popular girl in school." She arrogantly tilted her nose up and fluffed her shoulder-length, blonde-streaked hair.

"My first name is reserved for my friends," Chiba curtly replied, speculating that their classmates called her "the B" to her face and "the Beast" behind her back because of her colossal ego.

"*We* could be really good. *friends*," Belle murmured, stroking his arm with her left hand. Feeling his skin crawl, he yanked his arm away again.

"I'd rather have a root canal. Without anesthesia."

Without even a polite good-bye, Chiba left a red-faced and indignant Belle in the hallway and swept into his classroom. Slouched into his seat, he was cursing the fates for making him Belle's latest target. She made him think there was a bullseye somewhere on his back. A crumpled up paper smacked into the back of his head and distracted him from his gloomy thoughts. Warily, he looked at the desk behind him and met the twinkling, forest green eyes of Motoki Furuhata, the basketball team captain and sandy- haired golden boy of Azabu High. In spite of Chiba's antisocial tendencies, Motoki persisted in befriending him (initially to get him on the team) until they became best friends. Leaning forward, Motoki flashed his impish grin at him. Chiba tried to ignore him.

"Mamoru, what's with the funeral face?"

"B."

"The Beast's practically lusting for your body, you poor boy."

"She annoys the hell out of me."

"I bleed for you, bud," Motoki smirked, dripping fake sympathy. Chiba glared at him. Pretending to consider the matter, Motoki tapped his chin with his finger and tried to look innocent. "A lot of guys would kill for your problems, you know. Are you sure you aren't coming out of the closet anytime soon?"

"Shut up, Furuhata."

Motoki laughed and would have pursued the conversation but the teacher called for attention. Paying scant attention to the intricacies of algebra, Chiba debated on the best method to get rid of B, short of physical violence (which was, unfortunately, out of the question), since various (extremely creative) ways of saying no were wasted on her. Perhaps, he should date someone, *anyone* who wasn't B, but he couldn't think of anybody who wouldn't bore him within ten seconds. Alternatively, he could ask her out, let her meet his family... and watch her get ripped to shreds. Dad would pithily tell her to cover up with real clothes while Grandmother, ever elegant and scrupulously polite, would give her the social equivalent of frostbite. Although the scenario was amusing to contemplate, B's close proximity would kill any enjoyment. Besides, he didn't have a reason to provoke his father (at this particular moment). Until B nabbed (victimized) another boyfriend, he was doomed to suffer. Fantasizing about restraining orders and hit men, Chiba grimaced in frustration and slumped morosely onto his desk. If he had been a lesser mortal, his actions might have been described as childish sulking.

After another hideous encounter with B (where he almost decided to disinfect his clothes) and his morning classes, Chiba shoved his keys into his blue jeans and slammed his locker door. Shrugging into his chestnut leather bomber jacket, he strode out onto the school's front lawn. Suddenly, a warm body tackled him to the soft grass. Momentarily stunned, he found himself flat on his back with someone on top of him. On the verge of cursing, he furiously opened his eyes to see (and possibly strangle) his attacker but he was blinded by silky gold, seemingly endless acres of sun- warmed, vanilla-scented, honey-blonde hair.

Chiba became all too aware of the jasmine fragrance in the air and the very firm, *female* body sprawled on him. As she squirmed, he forgot his irritation and noticed that she was slender and nicely rounded in *all* the right places. They fit together perfectly as if they had been made for each other. Quirking an amused half-smile, he brushed her hair away from his face and then propped himself up on his elbows to stare down at the golden head resting on his chest. Her hair was arranged in an odd but cute style, two odango-like buns on either side of her head with accompanying pigtails. When she raised her head, Chiba almost stopped breathing as he drowned in her enchantingly wide, crystal blue eyes. An angel had fallen from heaven and landed on him. Dazed, he barely heard her stammering apologies as he memorized her parted rosebud lips, the crimson flush rising up from her graceful neck to flood the smooth curves of her peach-tinted cheeks, and the golden curls framing her delicate face. Somehow, the girl looked completely innocent and unbelievably tempting at the same time, like a strawberry ice cream sundae on a summer day. He wanted to gobble her up in small, delicious bites. Chiba vaguely hoped his drool wasn't too obvious since every hormone in his body was going wild. In his mindlessly salivating state, he couldn't even manage a grunt in caveman talk.

Usagi Tsukino, a sophomore transfer student, was not having a good day. After getting totally lost on the way to her new school (thanks to her scatterbrained cousin's pathetic directions), she was late to history class and walked in on a pop quiz. Even though she couldn't possibly have read the assigned chapters, the teacher, Ms. Haruna, made her take the quiz. Usagi was miserably certain of a failing grade but her day only continued on its downward slide. Math, usually a boring but tolerable subject, turned hellish when she totally blanked on answering a question. In literature class, she nervously stammered during her analysis of a poem. Although the teacher praised her comments as "attentive and insightful", her classmates were still snickering at her. So far, gym was the only place where she hadn't made a fool of herself. Plus, the coach announced that tryouts for the girls' football (soccer according to silly Americans) team would be held next week. Gloomily, she believed things couldn't get any worse. Then, someone tripped her and scattered her things all over the hallway. Ready to die of embarrassment, she bit back tears and tried to ignore the mocking laughter around her. Numbly collecting her books and putting them in her locker, Usagi headed towards the cafeteria to meet her cousin for lunch when some redheaded junior with blonde highlights laughed about "the newest, clumsiest, dumbest blonde" with her friends.

Mortified, Usagi ran out of the hallway and through the front door. Crashing headlong into a stranger, she tumbled to the ground and landed on the poor guy. Usagi almost panicked when he didn't move but then he lurched upwards. Her petite nose was abruptly buried in a dark gray, buttoned cotton shirt with the aroma of a rainy rose garden. She could feel him staring down at her but she was too flustered to look at him. Instead, she fidgeted and mumbled incoherent apologies to his chest. His extremely wide, steel-muscled, nicely shaped, very warm chest. Blushing, Usagi timidly peeked at his face. and lost all power of speech. His eyes held her spellbound. They were intensely blue- a deep, brilliant, endless, glorious blue- and framed by thick ebony eyelashes that should have made him look girlish but only emphasized his maleness. Dimly, she was aware of his unruly ebony bangs, his charming half-smile and his tanned, sinfully handsome face but she couldn't break away from his gaze.

Unexpectedly parched, Usagi licked her lips. Her heart pounded erratically when his eyes darkened to midnight-blue and hungrily fixated on her mouth. A warm, tingling awareness of his body pressed against her softer form flooded her, sparking unfamiliar but pleasurable sensations. Not quite believing what was happening, Usagi couldn't think or do anything but watch him. His head moved closer, only a breath away from her. At the moment when his lips would have brushed hers, a high-pitched screech (as melodic as a chainsaw next to one's ear) ripped through the air and shattered the moment. As they both stiffened in alarm, Usagi realized that she was scandalously draped over a complete and total *stranger*, albeit an extremely attractive one, on the school's front lawn! Her father would *kill* her (or, more likely, him). At the very least, he'd ground her for life (while her cousin and possibly her mother would tell her to get his phone number). Burning with shame, she clumsily scrambled off him and stood up.

With his gut clenched in a wave of lust, Chiba groaned and wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. Slowly getting to his feet, he kept his eyes on her but she was staring at *anything* but him. Although he was vaguely aware of Belle storming towards them, he was focused on *willing* his nameless angel to meet his gaze. In a bubblegum pink tailored blouse, a creamy lace tank top, blue jeans and sneakers, the girl was a delectable vision of innocence. And she stole his breath away.

"It was an accident and all my fault. I'm very, very sorry," she softly whispered in honey-sweet soprano tones. When she moistened her dry lips again, Chiba nearly swallowed his tongue. Reduced to "Me Tarzan, You Jane" mode, he had the insane urge to throw the girl over his shoulder, take her home and keep her forever. He jammed his hands into his coat pockets before he did something outstandingly stupid, like kiss her senseless. Chiba awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Don't worry about it. Best thing to happen to me today," he murmured. His normally smooth, dark velvet voice sounded rusty and hoarse. Then, Chiba's mouth curved slightly in a rare but genuine smile. After sneaking a quick glance at him, she saw the amusement dancing in his eyes but continued to keep her head down. A tiny, answering smile trembled on her lips. Naturally, Belle chose that moment to roughly grab Usagi's arm. Startled, she gasped as beige-painted talons dug into her tender flesh. Before Chiba could murder the blonde-streaked redhead (or something equally fun), the situation, in his non-humble opinion, went to hell in a hand- basket.

"What is your *problem*, you stupid newbie klutz?!? How dare you attack MY guy!" Belle seethed. Words simply could not describe the mingled shock, horror and disgust on Chiba's face.

"I am *not* your guy," he grated. The natural blonde's rosy skin blanched to a milky white color.

"*Your* guy?" the girl squeaked, rather confused. Already somewhat aware of Belle's reputation, she had no desire to incite her vindictive wrath. As she gazed at Belle and Chiba (who was inarticulate with foaming rage), her survival instincts kicked in. She did *not* want to be anywhere near this fight. Hastily freeing her arm from Belle's grip, Usagi bolted.

"Hey, wait! It's NOT like that!" he bellowed, ready to run after her. Belle jumped directly into his path and clung to him tighter than a blood- sucking leech. By the time he disentangled himself from Belle, Chiba was rethinking his position on physical violence towards girls. With narrowed eyes, he saw his dream girl disappearing into the safety of the school. Damn, she was quick. Plus, she was amazingly graceful and sexy on those gorgeous, fantasy-inspiring, mile-long legs. Before he began another mindless drool-fest (which probably involved a non-PG rated fantasy), he realized he didn't know her name or how to get in touch with her. Fluently muttering curses in three or four languages, Chiba vowed to see his angel again. No matter what it took, he'd find her.....

AN2: Ages-

Mamoru Chiba- 17

Belle Fonce- 17

Motoki Furuhata- 17

Usagi Tsukino- 16