The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XVIII

This is the final flashback chapter! Yay! I'm not planning on having the flashbacks in later works, so some things I wanted to say can't be gone over. SIGH. But no matter, it was just back story on how Sakura got Dragon and who from.

"Love can help my know my name."

Jonathan Crane lay awake, staring aimlessly at the stark white ceiling above him. He was still in a state of shock from the events of the night. He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, one of the few items that still lay on his body. Half past midnight. It had been four hours since his life had changed. They had left the Charity Ball a little after it began, arm in arm and joined at the mouth. Next to him, Sakura had rolled onto her side, her back to him. She was not one for pillow talk or cuddling. Neither of them were.

He had no idea exactly how the two of them had arrived at this point. But it was all a question of control. They had both simply lost it. And Jonathan Crane couldn't help but realize that he liked it. He liked losing control

Her steady breathing stopped suddenly, replaced by short, gasping pants. She shifted in the dark, her brow furrowed and hands clenched. Jon turned his head, his eyes straining against the darkness. He could vaguely see her moving form outlined by lights puncturing the space between the curtains. He put out a hand, meaning to steady her in her nightmares. He barely grazed her skin and she shivered under his touch, but did not wake, too engrossed in her nightmarish memories.

She tossed again, pulling her pillow close and curling herself into a tight fetal position. Next to her, Jonathan hesitated before pulling his hand away. He was not the compassionate sort. He had no words of comfort for a girl frightened by her dreams. When she woke a few minutes later, sitting up sharply, he shut his eyes instinctively, slowing and steadying his breathing. She said nothing, but he could tell she was awake by her ragged breath sounding in the dark. Sakura lay down again, facing the moonlit gap in the curtains. She didn't reach out for him, he didn't say a word, but he stayed awake with her all night.

The sun poured into the penthouse master bedroom and Jonathan groaned into his pillow, forgetting for a moment where he was. But the softness of the pillow and the scent of the sheets, both unfamiliar, brought him back and he sat up quickly. The space next to him was empty and he instinctively looked his watch. It was 9 A.M., on the button.

A slight sigh turned his gaze to the white carpet in front of the plate glass windows. Sakura sat on the floor, clad in a loose shirt and yoga pants, going through her morning stretches like clockwork. "Good morning," she said, curling her back and stretching her arms above her head.

Jonathan tensed and cleared his throat. "Good morning." His vision was fuzzy and he looked around for his eyeglasses.

"The nightstand," Sakura said without missing a beat.

He looked to the glass nightstand on Sakura's side of the bed and spotted the black frames. "Thanks," he muttered. He wasn't really up on his morning-after conversation subjects. Well, he'd seen movies. He'd try an oldie. "Last night was-," he began, falling over his words.

"Amazing? Wonderful? Unforgettable?" Sakura offered, saying the last with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk. Jon could only nod. She pushed herself off the ground and onto her feet before sitting back down on the bed next to him. "You weren't so bad yourself, Mr. Crane."

Jon wasn't a complete amateur. He knew how to flirt. "What did I say about this 'Mister' business?" he fired back. Sakura replied by grabbing him by the neck and pulling him down on top of herself.

Their first time had been awkward. Satisfying, but awkward.

The second and third time there were no surprises, and neither had to worry about being self-conscious.

She had been his first.

He had been her first and only.

"I'll be back late," she said, pulling a tight DKNY shirt over her black bra. "You can have lunch here but you've got to be gone by 1:00. My uncle sends a detail to sweep for surveillance and bombs every Sunday afternoon, and you'd be dead by nightfall if they found you here."

Jon nodded like he understood. The weekly bomb sweep was a little overkill, though. "Where are you going?" He didn't want to sound needy. He was just curious. The doctor began to don the clothes he had worn the night before, waiting for an answer.

She paused at the door, fiddling with her purse. "I've got to get ready for the opera tonight, of course." Then she smirked. "I'm supposed to pick up my dress," she glanced down at her watch, "Oh, about ten minutes ago."

"Isn't the opera at six?" Jonathan buttoned his shirt and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"And you need seven hours to get ready?"

Sakura laughed, "You don't know my family, Jon," she said with a smirk. "And yes," she took a few steps towards him seductively, "The opera is at six." Sakura reached up with expert hands and tied his tie. Hopefully he wouldn't look too conspicuous walking around in a tuxedo at one o'clock in the afternoon. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Tell the usher you're my guest." Then she pecked him on the cheek and was out the door.

The Falcones had reserved all the boxes along the left-side of the theater. Sakura had requested the last box, located just in front of the first balcony. She had convinced her cousin Sofia, Carmine's daughter, not to sit with her this year, but instead to accompany their other cousins. The two girls, as the eldest female Falcone Cousins, usually got their own box. With numerous guards, of course.

The two girls in question, were, at the moment, whispering next to a marble statue, hidden from their gibbering aunts and brooding uncles.

"So, why do you need this box so badly?" Sofia whispered, clutching Sakura's hands.

Sakura sighed and glanced back to the small crowd of Italians. "I have a- a friend joining me tonight."

"A friend? As in a boyfriend?" her cousin retorted so loudly Sakura clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her. "Thasuba!" she yelled, her voice muffled through her cousin's hand.

"Sorry," Sakura sighed and removed her hand. "Yes, I mean, I think so," she added with a stutter.

"Sakura!" Sofia repeated, this time at a low whisper. "Who is he? Is it Bruno? Or Mack? I know, it's Larry!"

Sakura pulled a sarcastic face, "Oh yes, I would definitely sleep with a guy called Larry."

"You slept with him? Sakura!"

"Shit," Sakura cursed and bit her lip. Her cousin had a big mouth.

"When my dad finds out, he'll-."

"I know what he'll do! And that's why you can't tell him, or anyone. Understand?" She met her cousin's eyes, pleading with her.

Sofia softened and smiled. "I won't tell, I promise."

"Promise promise?" Sakura raised her eyebrow with a smirk. Sofia was the closest thing she had to a sister. They had many secrets between them. Secrets that warranted a special bond of trust neither would dare break.

"Duh!" Sofia muttered, holding out her hand with a smile.. The girls shook, balled their fists, kissed their thumbs, pressed them together, and then kissed on both cheeks. "Don't worry, Sakura. I'll make sure no one will know."

The orchestra had almost finished tuning up their instruments until the lights went down. Sakura felt oddly lonesome, sitting in such a familiar place without her cousin, or the guards she had dismissed. The Falcones had been coming to the same opera for fifteen years, and were the only reason the show had lasted as long in Gotham. Her brown eyes watched the scarlet curtain roll up and the music rose. She felt the tears biting at the back of her eyes already. Every year she swore she wouldn't cry, and every year she was sobbing like a baby by the final act.

He stood in the shadows of the box, watching her closely. Jonathan didn't know exactly what possessed him and made him come. Perhaps it was knowing she wanted him there, that she wanted him with her. Whatever it was, he had come. He had even blown off two of his appointments to be there, with her.

"I've never seen this play before."

Her body twitched at his voice and she turned her head, slowly, so she wouldn't ruin the ringlets that hung around her neck. He could see her white smile in the dim light of the theater.

"Well then come and see it," she whispered with a smirk, glancing down at the empty seat next to her. Jonathan emerged from the shadows, still wearing the tux from the night before, and sank into the plush scarlet cushion of the seat.

"You'll have to translate," he muttered, eyes on the stage. "I don't speak Italian."

Sakura smirked. "Of course." She turned back towards the stage and, in a low voice, began repeating their words in English. The song spoke of separated lovers, pining for one another over the vast expanse of the world. They said they would say goodbye to their lives and travel the world over, together.

As she repeated the words, translating for Jonathan, her voice became softer with every verse. The song was lost on his ears, though his eyes were fixed on the stage. His vision blurred and he felt himself lose control of the tight, frigid Doctor he was. He found he didn't care that they were separated from Sakura's guard by only a thin crimson curtain, forgot that simply legions of Mob bosses were sitting in the same room.

He knew that his lack of fear or courage over it was a sign of something more. Jonathan Crane was no hero, no brave knight. So why did he feel so unafraid, so invincible. The answer was simple, really. He loved her. And love gave more strength than muscles could.

"Sakura-," he began, wary at first. She fell silent, knowing what he would say. He didn't need to. She already knew. Women were gifted like that.

"Crane, you need to learn to shut up," she muttered, before kissing him firmly. Sakura would always remember that one time at the opera when she did not cry.

Alright, one chapter to go! Sweetness.

Next chapter: an antidote for Sakura and a lawyer-beat down