Leather and Lace
By: Maidens of Konan
This is a non profit fanfic based on Fushigi Yûgi, which is the property of Watase Yuu, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo, Viz and Pioneer. The original, non canon ideas and characters that may appear in this story belong to the author. Plagiarizing this fic will result in plagiarist getting visit from Angry Suboshi and his Yo-Yos of Bad Judgement.
Chapter Five
Miaka watched her companion open his door and climb out of the car. Ripples of excitement coursed through her body at the same time her mind was struggling to achieve calm about what Dante had said.
He'd been having dreams. She'd been the Priestess, he a warrior. Wasn't it possible... even if he had no memory of her... wasn't it possible that Dante was subconsciously being influenced by his past life? In sleep, the barriers between the two might have been lowered enough that he might have dreamed of their past adventures together, just not with enough clarity that there'd be recognition of that life when he was awake.
It's dangerous to be making assumptions that his dreams are related to me! She thought. If he remembered anything specifically about me, he would have said something. I'm sure of that! And there's no reason for him to be dreaming about me. Tasuki and I weren't like Tamahome and me. And now, in this world, there have to be plenty of other women that could fill the role of 'dream girl'!
Miaka's hands clenched into fists. The thought of another woman taking her place brought on sudden, shocking ache that felt like an arrow to her heart. But she put the sensation aside as soon as her door was opened and a hand was extended to her.
She placed hers within it, noting that it was hard, long-fingered and broad across the palm. A warrior's hand, offered with chivalrous intent.
It was so nice to be treated with attentiveness and courtesy.
I can't let it go to my head. He must behave this way with any woman he takes out! Which reminds me, I do need to call Taka! Maybe the restaurant has a phone, I don't want to ask Dante for his!
The reminder that she'd stood Taka up was effective at casting a shadow on her enthusiasm for lunch. As Dante helped her out of the car, she carefully avoided his eyes to hide the conflict she knew was showing in hers. She thanked him as soon as she was standing next to him, but he kept possession of her hand.
"Are you feelin' okay now, Miss Miaka? Has the dizziness gone?"
The warm press of his hand and the genuine concern in his voice soothed her fraying composure. She chanced a peek at him. "I'm feeling much better. The water helped a lot."
A narrowed gaze assessed her. "All right, that's good. But I think getting a little food inside ya will help too!"
She'd hadn't noticed that she was hungry. That was more than a little disconcerting. "Yes, I think it will!"
Dante gently relinquished her hand so he could shut and lock her door, then took her arm in a polite but protective grasp as she moved past him and stepped up on the curb. It was nice to have that support, even if it did things to her pulse. "Thank you again, Dante-san."
"My pleasure." He said easily.
"You have excellent manners. I can't remember the last time a man helped me out of a car." She gave him a bright smile with the compliment, then quickly averted her gaze once more from the speculative glint in his.
"Sounds like you've been hangin' around the wrong guys."
The statement was provocative, but his expression and tone of voice were absolutely deadpan. Was he teasing or serious? She had to say something! Her extended silence could make things even more awkward.
"Anyway, thanks for the compliment, " Dante went on, as if sensing her internal debate, "but to be fair, I hafta say the credit for my havin' manners all goes to my mama and five older sisters."
"Five older sisters?" She grabbed onto the piece of information like a lifeline. "You're the youngest?"
"Yeah." He grimaced playfully. "Most people think I was spoiled rotten bein' the only male in the brood, but they're dead wrong. Not a day went by where least one of 'em wasn't on my case about actin' insensitive or not bein' a gentleman! Talk about a royal pain in the behind!"
Miaka broke into a grin, picturing a young Dante surrounded by nagging women. "I'm sure they meant well."
"Or not!" He retorted.
"There must have been some advantages to being the only brother!"
"Not a one." He asserted easily. "Let's go inside, and I'll tell ya all about the trials and tribulations of growin' up in Georgia with a brood of Southern belles." Making a show of fanning himself, he thickened his native accent and spoke in a high pitched voice. "Oh Dahntay! Get your backside into the kitchen and get us some of that divine sweet tea! It's hotter'n devil's spit out heah!"
Miaka laughed. "I didn't realize you had such a strong accent."
He half-smiled. "I've toned it down for the locals. The hair is enough of a distraction as it is. With the accent, I never know if they're listening to what I'm sayin' or trying to figure out where I'm from."
"I know what that's like." She told him with a rueful smile.
Putting her palms together, she executed an exaggeratedly formal bow as she playfully emphasized her own accent.
"Please to lead the way, most honorable Dante-san! Sweet Tea sounds most delightful."
He looked amused and a bit sheepish. "That's right, you're not exactly from around these parts either, are ya?"
"I'm originally from Tokyo, Japan!" She stated proudly.
Dante shook his head as they began to walk the stretch of asphalt that lay between them and the coffeehouse's entrance. "Here I'm makin' like I'm sucha long ways from home, and y'all came here from halfway around the world!"
She grinned. "No matter the distance, leaving one's childhood home is always difficult." She replied, taking the arm he offered. "It was a big adjustment, but I'm finally getting to feel pretty comfortable. It helps a lot that I have friends and co-workers that are patient in answering my questions and correcting my english."
"Ever get homesick?" Dante asked.
"Sometimes." She glanced up to meet his look of sympathy. "But thanks to my job, getting to know new people and improving my english, it's been happening less and less. I've made some very good friends, and I feel safe here." She gestured toward the horizon and the looming mountains. "How could I not, with those beauties standing guard over me?"
His face lit up. "That's exactly how I feel about 'em!"
They smiled at each other, but the shared moment was cut short as they arrived at a door with a coffee pot logo and cursive gold lettering which Miaka read aloud, "Welcome To Brew You! Java With A Bite!" She laughed. "That's really cute! But I'm not sure if I'm being welcomed or warned!"
Dante's smile broadened as he pulled the door open for her. "I think you're gonna like it! For me, it's a great place to unwind...and the owner happens t'be an old an' very good friend of mine!"
Miaka entered the building with Dante close behind her. The smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked bread had her salivating as her eyes adjusted to the darker interior of the coffeehouse.
She looked around with growing delight. The open rectangular space had been transformed to look like a small mountain lodge, complete with tongue and groove paneling, and the requisite stuffed critters and fish displayed on its walls. Large, leather armchairs were randomly arranged around log tables and pine plank coffee tables. Only a couple of the chairs were occupied, as it was well before the lunchtime rush.
"It looks like we're inside a log cabin!" She said, turning back to Dante for a moment.
"That's the idea! Go check it out!"
She did just that, meandering around, happily taking in the rest of her surroundings.
"The restrooms are back there, past the kitchen." Dante said, pointing to an alcove behind the long, polished wooden counter that ran along the wall opposite the entrance.
She took note of the location of the ladies' room, then moved on to the beverage and lunch menus that were posted on black slate chalkboards on the wall to the left side of the alcove. Their old fashioned, personalized look softened the ultra-modern appearance of gleaming chrome of the coffee grinders, espresso machines and other apparatus that were lined up beneath them.
She was a bit surprised to see that there wasn't anyone standing behind the counter waiting for customers, but that didn't seem to faze Dante.
"The crew times their break for before the lunch crowd hits. The regular cook's taken a week's leave of absence, so Craig is in the back doin' the food." He explained, after she'd asked about it. "Why don't we find a spot to sit, and then I'll go scare him up t'take our order."
"Would it be okay if we sit towards the back?" She indicated the space near a fieldstone fireplace that took up the majority of the back wall, along with a recess that held shelves full of books, magazines and assorted games.
Dante voiced his approval but then, to her surprise, steered her straight towards a lone, rather shabby looking sofa that was planted directly in front of the fireplace hearth. Seeing her eyes dart toward the chairs nearby, he said quickly, "Trust me, Miaka. Once you've sat on this monster, ya won't want to sit anywhere else."
He let go of her arm and watched closely while she gingerly seated herself, and then grinned at her gasp of amazement as her derriere sank deeply into the delicious softness of supple brown leather.
"So? What do ya think?" He prompted, putting his hands on his hips.
She leaned back with a sigh of pleasure as she was surrounded by cushiony comfort, and looked up at him with half closed eyes. "I love it. I may never move again."
"Told ya!" He gloated. "You stay put, I'll be right back!"
She sighed in contentment. "Thank you."
"Just don't fall asleep before I get back, okay?"
"Mmmmkay."
Normally she would have been embarrassed to sound like she was purring, but sheer bliss overruled convention. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this pampered. How wonderful it was to have someone coddle her, if only for a short while. As Dante walked away, she allowed herself the luxury of sinking even more deeply into the confines of the sofa, eyes closed. She felt relaxed and supremely content. It was as if the bout of altitude sickness had never been...
Her moment of total relaxation was brought to an abrupt end at hearing the gravelly voice calling out to Dante. After a moment of blinking in disbelief, she bolted upright and looked over the back of the sofa to where Dante and a dark- haired, deeply tanned man were performing a strange, ritualistic handshake that involved the slapping of palms, tapping of knuckles and wiggling of fingers.
"Tager! How's life been treatin' ya?"
"Can't complain, except it's been too long since I've seen your ugly mug!"
"Hey, it was here when you were yesterday! You didn't see me? That's cold, man!"
Dante's cohort was wearing tight jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt. A wide bandana was tied around his head to hold back a tousled mass of blue/black hair and Miaka caught the glint of a diamond stud in his ear. Her eyes took in a ruggedly handsome face, making specific note of eyes that sparkled with mischief and the wide, white grin that stretched lean cheeks, one of which bore a familiar looking scar.
After a moment of staring in stunned incredulity, Miaka faced the other way and sank back against the couch, her heart pounding from the shock of seeing yet another face from her past.
If Dante had been Tasuki, she was certain that his good friend would have been Kouji.
I shouldn't be surprised that it's him. But what in the world is going on? What could have happened that they both ended up here? I know time passes differently in the two worlds, but Tasuki and Kouji still would have been in their prime! They should be living in the book...
A sick feeling washed over her at the new and disturbing realization that two lives would have ended prematurely, and there was no way to ask what happened.
Feeling tears threaten, she quickly tuned back into the conversation taking place behind her just in time to hear the Kouji look-alike ask teasingly,
"Okay, Tager, I am hallicinatin', or did I see you come in with a woman?"
"Yeah, there's someone with me." Dante sounded wary, and Miaka wondered why.
Craig let out a hoot. "Thank you, Sweet Jesus! I was thinkin' you'd never get over that Sandra chick!"
Who is Sandra? Miaka thought, with a frown.
"Don't be givin' me crap!" Dante retorted. "I just met her. She's dealin' with a spell of altitude sickness. I'm helpin' her out by driving her home."
Miaka stiffened. What he said was true, but was that all this was to him?
"But you brought her to your ole buddy Craig for a little TLC first, hmmm?"
"An' I'll take her somewhere else if you're gonna make a big deal out of it!" Dante shot back. "Not that it's any of your business, but the lady's already got a boyfriend!"
"I notice that didn't stop you from askin' her to lunch."
Miaka smiled. She was beginning to like Dante's friend on his own merits.
"So what if I did? You know damn well that I've been immunized to women!"
"Rrrrriiiiight." Craig said, skepticism rife in his gravelly voice.
Really? Miaka thought, echoing that skepticism. That's not the impression I have of you, Officer Tager!
"Ya know, Bennett, Annie's Coffee Cage is startin' to look pretty good..."
"Fine, fine, I'll lay off! Are ya gonna introduce me now?"
"Do I got a choice?"
"Not if ya want me to leave ya alone!"
"All right, then. C'mon."
When the two men rounded the end of the couch, Miaka sat forward and tried to look as if she hadn't heard everything that had been said.
"Miaka, I'd like ya to meet the proprietor of this fine establishment and my best friend, Craig Bennett. Craig, this is Miaka Yuuki."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett." She smiled and extended her hand, although she half-expected him to reach out and rap her on the head instead.
"The name's Craig- and likewise!" The Kouji look-alike said, taking her hand and shaking it with warmth. As a stunning blue-green gaze perused her from head to toe, a puzzled look replaced his smile.
"Do I pass inspection?" She joked, after several more seconds of staring had gone by.
The proprietor's sun-bronzed cheeks darkened with embarrassment as he finally let go of her hand. Behind him, Dante gave a soft snort of amusement. "Of course ya do! And I'm real sorry for gawkin' like that. I know this is going to sound like a real tired old line, but I'm sure that we've met before!"
Dante gave him a frown. "Must have been somewhere else, 'cause she's never been in here."
"That's what I'm trying to remember," Craig admitted, still eyeing his newest customer, "it's strange I can't, because I never forget a face!"
Miaka's mind was abuzz. Did Craig Bennett have a fragment of memory of her time in the book? If so, she needed to be very careful.
"Maybe we've seen each other at the place I work. " She suggested. "I'm doing food preparation at The Phoenix Grill. Have you ever eaten there?"
"Yeah, about a year ago!"
"Oh, then never mind, I started working there just a little over five months ago."
"I see." Craig rubbed the back of his head as he thought. "Well, if you're at the Phoenix, then yer picture and the announcement were in the lifestyle section of the paper when they hired you, right? And I would have seen it, because I'm always checkin' out the new-"
Dante broke in. "You're the chef at the Phoenix Grill, Miaka?"
"Yes, but not the head chef." She corrected sweetly. "I'm his assistant in training."
"A beautiful woman training to be a head chef!" Craig said, with a mischievous sideways glance at Dante. "A single guy's dream come true."
She blushed and laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Bennett. You're very kind."
"I told ya, the name's Craig! And I'm tellin' it like it is!"
"Well, thank you again, Craig-san. And please call me Miaka."
"I'd be honored."
Dante frowned as his best friend and his guest exchanged warm smiles. "Hey buddy, don't you have some coffee to grind or somethin'?"
Craig shot him an unrepentant look. "Thought I'd take the lady's order first. I'm the only one workin' the kitchen right now, remember?"
"So get to it! I can't be hangin' around this dump all day!"
"Yeah, about that." Craig eyed the uniform his friend was wearing. "What gives? I've never seen ya in that kinda get up be-"
He broke off as Dante gave him a sharp look. "No shop talk right now, I'm on break."
The other man stared back and then gave an affirmative jerk of the head. "I gotcha. Later."
Though the words were offhand, there was a tension in the air that made Miaka decide to change the subject.
"Dante-san, you know this place well. Would you mind ordering for me?"
"Be glad to." He said. "How hungry are ya?"
She made a face. "Ravenous, actually!"
"Anything you can't have or know you won't like?"
"No! Everything on the menu looked delicious!" She smiled. "I love food and trying new things!"
Dante nodded. Now that his sunglasses were gone, there was no disguising the lingering glance directed at the bodice of her sundress as she stretched out an arm, or the avid way his eyes followed the movement as she crossed her legs.
"So does my buddy!" Craig said, sending an appreciative grin at the reclining woman on the sofa. "It's nice t' meet a woman who isn't shy about food! Feel free to come back anytime...with or without this big lug."
Craig's words and the look he gave her were full of open, honest approval. Pleased that she had made a positive impression, Miaka looked askance at Dante to see if he'd also noticed and was glad. But Dante seemed to suddenly be very interested in what was happening outside one of the shop's windows.
Well, he was a cop, she reminded herself at feeling the prickle of disappointment. Even when on lunch break he certainly needed to stay vigilant.
"The pleasure is mine, Craig-san." She said, making her reply extra enthusiastic to counter any hint of lingering disappointment. "If the coffee is even half as nice as the company, I 'll be coming back here often!"
Dante turned to face her. Whatever he'd been looking at was apparently no longer of interest.
Craig grinned and elbowed his buddy. "Hear that, Tager? A new regular! She's mine now that I've won her over!"
"Or maybe she was just bein' polite." Dante drawled.
"She must be, since she said yes to havin' lunch with you!" His friend shot back. He then turned to Miaka with his most charming smile. "Dante told me you've been havin' trouble with the altitude woozies. I was sorry to hear that."
"Thank you, but it's my own fault," she said ruefully, "I allowed myself to get dehydrated."
"Well, Miss Miaka, I'd say that means you need a beverage, pronto! I'll be right back with somethin' special for ya!"
"You pour and I'll bring it to her," Dante stated, his gaze now intent on Miaka. "You're gonna be busy in the kitchen gettin' our order ready, right?" Though the redhead's expression was bland, his tone was the verbal equivalent of pounding a 'no trespassing' sign into the ground.
"I guess I could use some help." Craig replied, with a grin that said, 'immunized to women? My ass, Tager! You got it bad for this one!'
Miaka spoke up. "Excuse me, Craig-san, but do you have a phone I can use?"
"Sure! The alcove in the back, next to the restrooms!"
She followed where his finger pointed. "Ah yes, thank you!"
As soon the two men had walked away, Miaka went to call Taka. He didn't pick up, and it didn't take long to leave a voice message.
When she returned, she subsided back into the sofa and pondered the situation. She could understand his caution regarding her status, but if Dante didn't want to let a woman into his private life, then why would he take her to lunch at a place that was owned by a dear friend?
And was up with that look he'd given her just now? He didn't seem angry, but he definitely wasn't pleased. Did he resent her wanting to spend time in his home away from home?
In the next few minutes, as her thoughts continued to revolve around the flame-haired officer, Miaka came to realize two truths.
She was tired of being alone. And right now, right here at this moment in time, nothing seemed more important than proving to Officer Dante Tager that he wasn't immune to her.
Miaka cast a casual glance at her watch and was shocked to see that over an hour had passed since they had arrived at Brew You. Dante probably should have been back on the job by now, but when she shyly mentioned that fact to him he didn't seem troubled in the least.
"I arranged for flex time when I picked up the keys," he informed her as they walked to her car. "I was an extra patrol today, and they're fine with my making the down time up at the end of my shift."
""I hope there's nothing major happening that they needed your help! Were they worried about the car?"
"Nah. I told dispatch where it was and that I was goin' to lunch first." He patted his side, where a sophisticated looking smart phone hung from his belt. "If there had been an emergency, the dispatcher would have texted me."
She smiled up at him, feeling a bit giddy that he'd made such arrangements just to stay with her. "That was a very nice thing for you to do."
Dante glanced down at her as they arrived at her car.
"Again with that 'nice' stuff," He mocked gently. "I told ya, nice has nothin' to do with it."
Before she could reply, he leaned forward to unlock and open the passenger's door for her, letting out an exaggerated groan as he did so."That damn Bennett and his double sized portions! It hurts to bend, I'm so stuffed!"
"Me too!" Miaka agreed laughingly, although privately she thought she could have found room for one more dessert. "Your friend Craig is an excellent cook. I need to get his recipe for those biscuits!"
"It's my grandma's secret recipe." Dante said as she seated herself in the car. "I'll be glad to write it down for ya if you wanna give it a try."
She smiled up at him. "That'd be wonderful, if it's not too much trouble!"
"No trouble!" He assured her. "It can be my thanks for you buyin' lunch!"
As much as she wanted the recipe, she didn't like that he was speaking in terms of obligation. "That's not necessary! The point was that I wanted to be doing something nice for you."
"And ya did!" Dante said. "I've been havin' a great time!"
The warmth in his eyes was her undoing.
"Me too!" She blurted. "If you'd entrust your grandmother's recipe to me, I'd really enjoy preparing it for you sometime... at your convenience, of course."
The offer was cheeky and impulsive, but she didn't care. This was the happiest she could remember feeling since her arrival in this country. Even with reincarnation and relationship issues hanging over her head, she wanted to see Dante again, and to spend more time getting to know him.
She also wanted to laugh at his comically stunned expression, but the urge died when he recovered enough to reply, "Hold that thought. I'm comin' around."
After shutting her door, he jogged around the back of the car and got in beside her.
When he turned to her, their gazes locked and Miaka felt her heart do a little flip-flop as he reached out for one of her hands. She didn't even think of resisting as Dante entwined his fingers with hers, or when he slowly brought the back of her hand to his mouth. Her breath caught at the sight and sensation of smooth, warm lips leaving an imprint on her flesh, and then released in a soft whoosh of air.
At that moment it felt as if everything going on outside the car had faded away, leaving the two them of wrapped in a soft, silent cocoon that seemed to pulse with heat and taut expectation.
But what am I expecting? He knows I'm seeing someone. I'm not being fair...I really haven't thought this through!
With that admission, she regained a sense of decorum. "Look Dante-san, I'm sorry. I can be impulsive, and given my uncertain status, I really shouldn't be allowing this to continue-"
"Yes you should!" He commanded. "Stop jumpin' to conclusions, and while you're at it, quit making me sound like a stranger! It's not Dante-san, just Dante! Okay?"
She was shameless, enjoying the tender way his thumb was stroking her knuckles. "Okay...Dante."
"That's better." He looked down at their clasped hands. "I'd like nothing better than to have a meal cooked by you, but there's somethin' I absolutely have to know before I say yes."
She was worried, knew what was coming, but it was time to stop putting it off. "What is that?"
"How serious are ya about this guy you were meeting today?"
It was the same thing he'd asked her earlier, a very valid and critical question, one she had been asking herself since she had arrived in Colorado. There was a time long ago when the answer would have been 'very'. But these days, what she had was a habit and a crutch rather than a relationship.
"I was….at one time we were...but now, I really don't know." She admitted.
Dante's head shot up at her response, and his eyes pinned hers with disconcerting intensity.
"How can you not know?" He demanded. "What kind of lame answer is that? Either you are, or you're not!"
His accent had thickened with frustration and a hint of anger. Miaka felt her own temper flaring in response. What did he expect? It wasn't like she had any advance preparation for this situation! "All right, how's this?" She retorted. "I was serious enough about him to learn English, to give up a good Tokyo job and being with my family and friends in Japan so I could move here to be with him! Is that a satisfactory answer?"
She tried to tug her hand free, but Dante tightened his grip on it.
"And that was five months ago." He persisted quietly. "How are ya feeling about him right now?"
Her defensiveness ebbed under the effect of his intense gaze and softened tone. "The reason I'm not certain how things stand between us is because we've been apart much more than we've been together the last two years. We were completely separated for months before I moved here. Since I arrived, we haven't taken the time to sit down and discuss where our relationship stands."
Dante blew out a breath. "So that's why you were in such an all-fired hurry this mornin'," he stated, finally letting her hand slip out of his, "you wanted to make the most of the time he was going to give you."
"That's right." Miaka murmured. And she should be feeling a great deal of remorse about missing that date. But at the moment she found she was far more disappointed that Dante had relinquished her hand. Her desire to be with the man beside her was increasing, consuming her better judgement, bit by bit.
There was nothing to be done but to try to hide what she was sure was a revealing expression by turning to look out the side window- an effort that was quickly stymied by warm fingers curling around her chin.
Exerting pressure, but not enough to hurt her, Dante turned her face to his.
It came as no surprise that he would use the same maneuver Tasuki had when she and the bandit had first met; the only difference was that Tasuki had done it because he'd been trying to steal a kiss from her. That kiss had never come to pass thanks to her instinctive right jab, which she could now admit had been an error in judgment. But how could she have known that the bandit that she'd rejected that night would prove himself an amazingly selfless and incredibly faithful companion, as well as a hero?
"When's the last time this boyfriend of yours took you out on a date instead of doin' what he wants and having you forgive him?"
That was something Tasuki had complained about too. It annoyed her as much now as it had then, partly because it wasn't as cut and dried as that, but mainly because she knew, deep down, that he was right. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because I asked." Dante said.
Despite her irritation, her lips twitched at the simple logic of his answer. "You're awfully sure of yourself, considering we just met this morning."
His laugh was short and sharp. "I'm not sure of anythin'!"
She couldn't stop herself. "But that doesn't matter if you're only trying to help me, right?"
He snorted. "We both know that's not all that's going on!"
She was mollified, but not ready to show it. "Then what is?"
"How do I know unless you let me find out?" Dante said. "Look, I'm not the kind of guy who would use my badge to pick up women and I've never acted this unprofessionally while on duty! But suddenly I meet you, and I'm totally outta line, and I don't fucking care!" He shook his head, looking bewildered and a little peeved that he was bewildered. "All that matters is that I can tell you're not happy, an' that I wanna be the one to change that!"
Heat and energy flowed through her body as she listened to him. She wanted to commit everything about this moment to memory even as an inner voice shouted that she should end the lunacy now, that her present state of affairs dictated that a platonic friendship was all she should offer this man.
This was the voice of reason that she had obeyed every single time it had spoken to her in the past. But after enduring six months of loneliness, uncertainty and unhappiness in a place full of strangers, Miaka Yuuki was no longer in a mood to listen, much less to obey.
"He hasn't taken me on a date in over three months." She confessed.
"You gotta be kidding me!" Dante exclaimed.
She shook her head. "Not kidding."
"What kinda loser boyfriend doesn't take his girl out? Is he cheap or somethin'?"
The minute he asked the question, Dante cursed himself for his tactlessness. She'd have every right to resent his offering an unsolicited, low opinion of her beau. But for some reason, Miaka looked as if she wanted to giggle.
"He has been know to be a bit...um... frugal." She said, her voice holding on to a hint of laughter. "But it's not that he won't spend money on me! He works long hours. When he's been free, I'm either working, or there's been some corporate function that we need to attend. And then he has to travel to meet with prospective and current investors..." Her tone had gone flat. "He has goals, you see, and I don't want to get in his way."
Tipping her chin up a little more, Dante vowed to himself that he'd never, ever make the mistakes with her that had caused the disillusionment and disappointment he could see in her eyes.
If he was lucky enough to be let into her life to keep that vow.
There was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead into the unknown. "All right. You're not engaged or even goin' out on regular dates with this guy, so I have no qualms about sayin' that I can do better! I'd like a chance to take you out on a real date- if you're not interested in giving me that chance, just say so right now and I swear that'll be th' end of it!"
He paused, feeling as if he'd was hanging in mid air after jumping off a cliff.
Miaka was regarding him with a mixture of wariness and warmth, but her long hesitation before answering spoke of conflict. "I'm interested." She said slowly. "I want to spend more time getting to know you. But I don't want to make false promises...things are complicated. There's so much you don't know about me-"
He silenced her by placing a thumb over her lips.
"I've never been one to play it safe." He informed her. "Why start now?"
Why indeed, Miaka thought.
Looking into Dante's eyes reduced her iron will to the state of malleable putty. Her lips tingled where his thumb rested. She wondered what would happen if she parted them.
Before she could find out, flashing lights captured their attention.
"Trouble?" She asked, seeing his eyes dart to the display on his phone, and then to the patrol car parked down the block.
As they watched, the lights were turned off and the car pulled away.
"They're just pulling out after a routine stop. But I better get back on patrol." Dante said. "With flex time, my shift is up at six. Can I call ya after work?"
"That would be fine." Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling as she adjusted her skirt to fully cover her legs. "Would you like me to write down my number for you?"
"Won't be necessary." His eyes were intent upon her as she looked up. "I memorized it, remember?"
"Really?" She was flattered, but her tone was skeptical. "It's been a while since you saw it."
Holding her gaze, he rattled off the number without hesitation.
"Wow. That's... exactly right."
He said nothing, but his smile said plenty.
As a blush stung her cheeks, Miaka turned to stare out her side window. She was acutely conscious of his perusal, but was feeling too nervous to return it.
When Dante shifted his attention to starting the car, she glanced his way, feeling both relieved and apprehensive at having made the choice to go out with him. She had no idea what that meant for her future, or what she was getting into. But whatever the consequences would be, she would deal with them.
Once they had pulled out into traffic, they began to talk about trivial things. Though the conversation flowed, it held a poor imitation of the relaxed camaraderie they'd enjoyed during lunch. An unspoken, mutual agreement to ignore the sexual tension simmering between them had seemingly been forged, but shoving that awareness aside only served to make it more persistent and pervasive.
While Dante was watching the road, Miaka found herself studying his profile and shoulders.
And then as he shifted, his biceps.
And at last, his hands.
The memory of having those strong and capable hands on her person was an intoxicating one, and a provocation to push beyond her misgivings.
Possessed by a sense of daring, she moved her leg as close to the gearshift as possible and waited with bated breath for incidental contact.
As he shifted back into fifth gear, Dante felt his forearm come up against Miaka's leg.
Unable to resist, he glanced down, and promptly bit off a groan at seeing her bare knee so close to his clenched hand.
His companion kept chatting away, seemingly oblivious to the situation.
Or was she? He had the distinct feeling that Miaka was purposely trying to get a rise out of him- and damn if it wasn't working! Every time he shifted and touched, a rush of blood moved down to his groin. He hunched forward in his seat, the only way to hide the evidence of growing arousal as he tried his best to keep his eyes on the road, permitting himself only the briefest glances while clamping down on errant imagining as to what that thigh would feel like slung over his hip.
By the time they pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, he was gripping the gearshift with whitened knuckles as he battled with his baser urges.
He might have felt better knowing that Miaka was fighting her own battle. Though her teasing had clearly gotten the desired results, her own body's reaction to it had forced her into the acknowledgment that she wanted so much more than hot, furtive glances from this man.
She wanted to touch him and be touched by him in ways she'd never fully dared to contemplate in anything but a fantasy.
The second he had the car parked and the engine switched off, Dante flung his door open and quickly clambered out. If he could just get Miaka into the building and make the call for a cab without any kind of unnecessary contact, there was a better than good chance he could maintain his self-control. If not…well, he just wouldn't let himself think about that possibility while he was on duty and the lady had a boyfriend when he wasn't.
He rounded the car and opened her door.
"I live on the top floor- over there, on the end." She pointed to an outdoor stairway at the end of the building nearest them, as she alighted from the vehicle. "Oops!" She bent down to pick up her purse and the small bit of change that had spilled out on the asphalt.
Dante would have helped, but he was transfixed by the unfettered view of the smooth valley between beautifully rounded breasts.
As reason returned, he clenched his jaw and directed his gaze elsewhere.
Hands off! Gotta get back to work! The boss is already gonna have a fit when he finds I left a police vehicle sittin' on the freeway… a nooner is totally outta the question!
Miaka took the arm he proffered with a sweet smile, and he tried to ignore the alluring way her hip brushed against his from time to time as they walked. When they reached the stairway, he hung back and let her go first, but soon regretted the courtesy as a slight gust of wind lifted the back of her full skirt and he was treated to a riveting display of calves and thighs. He also couldn't help eyeing the curves of the delectable bottom that was outlined quite nicely when she gathered her skirt in one hand to hold it in place.
After three and a half flights of pure torture, they reached her apartment. Dante looked on in silence while his tormentress unlocked the door. Instead of opening it and walking in, she turned to him.
"I'm feeling so much better! There's no need for you to have to pay for a cab when I am feeling perfectly capable of giving you a ride!"
Dante managed a bland smile even as he clamped down hard on thoughts of giving Miaka the ride of her life. "I appreciate that, but I think you should be gettin' some rest after that spell ya had. I have cash- and it looks better for me to take a taxi than havin' a civilian drop me off anyway."
"I never thought of that." She murmured. It wasn't a point she could argue, and she was unable to conceal her disappointment. "Please come in then, and I'll get the phone for you."
Dante acknowledged the directive with a brief nod, giving no sign of his excitement over the certainty that she was looking for an excuse to keep him around.
He followed her into the apartment, taking careful note of the stone fireplace and the expensive furnishings that were within his range of view.
Chefs must make good money, he thought idly, tagging along behind Miaka into her sunlit living room and resisting the temptation to walk over and sink down on one of the soft looking, plum-colored couches, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be leaving.
Something gently bumped into his ankles, and a low, insistent purr reached his ears. Dante looked down to see a beautiful Siamese cat rubbing against his pant legs.
"Well now, aren't you a fine lookin' feline," he murmured, crouching down. He extended a hand to the elegant animal, who eyed and then walked under it, giving dignified permission for him to stroke its fur.
Miaka had turned around and was gaping at the scene. "Mizu likes you!"
Her tone conveyed unflattering disbelief.
"There's a reason why Mizu shouldn't?" Dante asked, continuing to methodically pet the cat at his knee.
"You're a guy!"
Amber eyes danced with mischief. "The last time I looked. So?"
"Mizu has made a habit of scratching, hissing or spraying any male that has come around me." Miaka explained. "You're the first that he's been polite to. He's enemies with everyone else-"
She stopped, realizing too late that the list would include her boyfriend.
Dante grinned. "You have a very intelligent and discerning cat. You should pay attention to what he's tellin' ya."
Unable to think of a comeback, she resorted to making a face at him.
"Nothing to say? Cat's got your tongue?" As she sighed and rolled her eyes, he turned to the purring animal. "Thanks, Miss Mizu. Glad to see someone around here appreciates me and my pun!"
"For your information, Mizu is a boy!"
"Uh-oh." Dante said. "Sorry about that, little dude!"
But Mizu was unconcerned as he head butted his visitor's arm, and Dante sent a laughing sideways glance at the cat's owner. "Looks like he's a forgiving kitty."
She shook her head. "More proof that he likes you. With others, he's cool and vindictive."
"Then I better watch it. I wouldn't want to give him any claws for getting mad."
Miaka groaned and laughed. "Here you go, Mr. Comedian - why don't you try out that devastating wit on some dispatchers?"
She held out a cordless phone, along with a sticky note with the numbers of three different taxi services scribbled on it, as Dante stood up.
"Thanks for looking up the numbers for me." He said, before taking the items.
As his fingers brushed hers, the air between them seemed to jump with an electric awareness.
"You're welcome." She said, and averted her gaze to the cat who was now persistently winding himself around her ankles.
As she crouched down to pick up her pet, Dante quickly turned away from his second glimpse of paradise.
"My devastating wit doesn't work on cabbies either." Dante announced, as he hung up a few moments later. "Crabbier than a cuss, an' the soonest anyone can get here is fifteen minutes from now! Talk about bein' slower than molasses!"
He handed Miaka the phone, and she went to set it down on a nearby end table.
For a few long seconds, she lingered there, head down and hand outstretched before turning back to face to him with an oddly determined expression.
"Yes, they certainly can be slow." She said, as their gazes connected. "But I have to say that for once I'm very glad of that."
And just like that, the light atmosphere he had tried to foster with her had turned heavy with implication.
Dante's heart thundered as Miaka began to walk towards him. She's damn sexy…warm-hearted and fun. God, if she were mine, I'd take good care of her an' stay with her always.
She was standing directly in front of him now, having stopped just short of touching him, although he suspected two parts of her still could if she decided to take a very deep breath.
"I need to ask you something, Dante."
Her expression was inviting, as was her scent. He could feel his common sense slip away and made no effort to stop it from leaving.
"Sure thing." His voice came out sounding raspy, and he cleared his throat. "And what would that be?"
"You told me back in the car that you thought your dream woman may be real." Miaka stated softly.
"Not maybe." He corrected. "I say she is."
She nodded solemnly. "I was just wondering, then... if you know who she is?"
Dante stared down at her, feeling both exasperation and amusement. He'd thought he'd been pretty obvious, but before he could form any kind of a reply, she added,
"Is this woman named Sandra?"
"S-Sandra?" His astonishment made him sputter. "How...how the heck do ya know about her?"
"I overheard you and Craig talking about her at the coffeehouse." She admitted, looking away. "I thought it sounded like she's someone that's important to you."
Though her voice was soft, it held an undeniable edge. Dante began to smile.
No question about it.
Miaka was jealous of his old girlfriend.
The realization sent a burst of adrenaline rocketing through his body, with the desire to carry the woman off to a place where he could show her how he felt instead of wasting time with words following close in its wake. Damn his conscience and the sense of responsibility that wouldn't let him act on that desire. He'd bent the rules for flex time, it would be wrong to skip out on the rest of his shift.
A kiss would have to do for now.
Reaching out, he crooked his forefinger beneath her chin and turned her face back to his.
"Little idiot!" He said huskily. "As far as I'm concerned, Sandra is ancient history. All right?"
"Yes."
But she didn't look reassured, not completely. The question was written all over her face and Dante answered it.
"I can't be sure of an identity because her face has always been partially hidden in the dreams. It's more of a feeling I get about her, you know? I'm certain I was born to be with this person and that I'd know her when I found her." He half smiled. "And as weird as it sounds, everything that I've been experiencing since we've met sure gives me the feeling that she's you, Miaka."
"Oh." She breathed.
"And I have to say, even if you have that other guy, I kinda think you feel the same way." He shrugged. "I'm hopin' ya do. Maybe I'm wrong to say that, but..."
"No." She said.
Her green eyes had filled with an emotion that Dante didn't dare put a name to in case he was under the influence of wishful thinking. "No what?"
"No, you're not wrong."
Keeping their eyes locked, he palmed the nape of her neck. "Got any other questions?"
She moistened her lips. "Does this mean you're not immune to me?"
He stared at her, then gave a short laugh. "You were really listenin' in, weren't you?"
"Yes." She didn't apologize, and he liked that.
"That was a buncha bullshit!" He admitted. "I'm definitely not immune to you!"
"But you want to be...don't you?"
The sad smile she gave him after the question doubled his need to comfort and reassure her.
Reaching out with his other hand, he slowly trailed his fingertips down the curve of her face as he answered.
"If I wanted that, I wouldn't be anywhere near ya right now."
He stilled the motion of the hand on her neck, and then used gentle pressure to urge her forward as his arm wrapped around her waist. Satisfaction seared him as her eyes closed in acceptance of the inevitable, and a small smile of triumph parted his lips when her body melted into his and her arms encircled his neck to pull his head down to hers. In the heartbeat before he captured her lips, his desire sharpened senses took note of the rapid beating of the pulse at the base of her throat and the excited catch in her breathing.
Then their mouths met, and Dante discovered that nothing in any of the erotic dreams he'd had, had prepared him for this sweet explosion of passion. Every nerve in his body felt as if it was coming alive as her lips eagerly parted under the demanding nudge of his. His tongue slipped into the warm cavern of her mouth, and her tongue rose to meet it, pushing and stroking against his with an abandon that he hadn't expected, and which caused his hunger for her to beat violently against his wall of control. He feasted on her inner fire, feeling every luscious curve and dip of her body aligning with his. It was as if she'd been created especially for him, and him for her.
At that thought, the wall came crashing down. His hands grasped the crests of her hips as his stance widened, a position that brought her into direct contact with his rapidly hardening flesh.
Miaka whimpered in response while her fingers raked through his hair. With an answering groan, Dante thrust his tongue deeper inside her mouth, pressing his aroused body even harder into hers. The desire to submerge himself in her softness was growing more powerful with every second she remained in his grasp. He wanted to make every inch of her naked skin tingle with need, and see her face glowing with the knowledge that she would be his heaven and he would be hers.
For a crazy moment, he contemplated pulling her down onto the living room floor and making her his. It was very clear that she would go with him without question.
Unfortunately, along with that came the knowledge that it was wrong to take advantage of her confusion and unhappiness over her relationship and her clear need for physical affection. When they shared their bodies with each other for the first time -and there was no doubt in his mind that there'd be one- he would be damn sure there wouldn't be any loves from the past climbing into bed along with them.
For the act to mean what it should, she had to be with him, and only him. With that realization chiseled into his heart and mind, he began to retreat from the kiss, ending it with slow but firm deliberation, bringing himself and the woman he held back down from the heights of arousal. His hands moved to the tops of her shoulders as their lips parted. Her eyelids lifted and she gazed wonderingly at him, the sounds of their rapid breathing filling the silence before he spoke.
"Miaka...does this mean that you'd want me to be more than your friend?"
Though his words were tinged with humor, he'd never been more serious in his life.
Her eyes looked a bit anxious. But her voice was steady and sure as she answered,
"Yes, Dante. I believe it does."
As soon as the forbidden words left her lips, Miaka felt a thrill of anticipation race through her body. It was done. She was going to follow the path her heart was setting, and there was no going back.
Dante exhaled noisily. Lowering his head, he placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the multitude of emotions churning inside him. Relief, gratitude, happiness, and raging desire were all there …along with something else much, much deeper and sweeter than all those things combined. "The same goes for me." He murmured.
A few repeated blasts of a car horn sounded outside. After a quick glance down at his watch, Dante swore. "There's the taxi...and it's been barely ten frickin' minutes! Why couldn't they take their time for once?"
Miaka giggled and gently disengaged herself from his embrace. "I'll walk you out."
Still wanting contact, he reached out to gently trace a line from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, liking the way she closed her eyes in obvious enjoyment of the caress. "I'll call ya after work tonight, okay?"
She nodded her agreement.
They bid a quick farewell to Mizu, and then Miaka locked up the apartment and followed Dante down the outer stairs to the parking lot where a blue and white taxi awaited them. She hung back as the police officer asked the bemused looking cabbie to wait, and then squeaked in surprise as she found herself taken by the elbow and purposefully marched to a position in the driver's blind spot.
As Dante turned her to face him, a heavy silence fell, evidence that neither of them wanted to be the first to say goodbye.
"Make sure to check that your front car doors are locked." He finally said. "There's been an increase in burglaries in the last month."
"I will." She promised, rising on tiptoe to give him a shy peck on his cheek. "Thank you for...for everything."
Dante was amused and annoyed. That was a piddlin' sisterly kiss. I got just enough time to remind her we ain't related.
Pointedly ignoring the taxi driver who had scooted over to the passenger side for a better view, he reached out and pulled her up against him.
"Hey now...wanna try that one again?"
Miaka's lashes fluttered to her cheeks. A stifled moan escaped her as his mouth claimed hers.
Several passion filled seconds ticked by before their lips parted. Breathing heavily, Dante gathered Miaka close and rested his chin on the top of her head, allowing himself to linger under her feminine spell for just a bit longer. His gut feeling from this morning had been realized. This was definitely a day-and a woman- that he'd never, ever forget.
"These past couple hours have been incredible." He said unsteadily. "Really does feel like a dream."
Her sigh was felt rather than heard. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
From somewhere behind them, the cabbie cleared his throat- loudly, and at great length.
Dante directed a brief glare at him, then grudgingly took the unsubtle hint. "Damn. Looks like I have to go."
"It's okay," she murmured, "I'll be looking forward to your phone call tonight."
He smiled and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Me too."
His fingers lingered on the softness of her flesh before his hand fell to his side.
Turning abruptly, he opened the door and climbed into the back seat of the waiting taxi, apparently not trusting himself to look back until the vehicle was pulling away.
Miaka waved until the cab was lost to view, then crossed her arms in front of her body. Strange how lonely and cold she felt, even though there were people all around and the sun was beating down upon her head. Dante had taken all of the day's warmth and excitement along with him when he left.
Several minutes passed by before she could shake herself free of her mope enough to stroll over to the space where her car was parked.
As Dante had suspected, the doors had been left unlocked. Shaking her head at her carelessness, she went and opened the driver's door and used the master console to secure the vehicle.
She was about to shove the door closed, but seeing a familiar object lying on the back seat gave her pause.
Oh no! He's forgotten his hat! I hope he won't get in trouble for it!
As another realization sank in, her anxious frown transformed into a wide smile.
Having a vital part of his uniform virtually guaranteed she'd be seeing Dante again before the day was through.
To be continued!
Reviewers will be greeted with a pot of Craig's special house blend coffee and Nuriko-like shrieks of caffeine-induced glee!