Leather and Lace
By: Maidens of Konan
The rights to Fushigi Yûgi and its inhabitants belong to the very talented Yuu Watase and a host of multi-media type companies. The rights to original storylines, original characters, and the concept of Sgt. Dante Tager plus any other reincarnated identities that were concocted purely for a fan's reading pleasure belong to the author(s). Use them without written permission and be sentenced to playing fireworks roulette with a foaming-mouthed Ashitare. Takk fer det!
Note: A huge thank you to Chibi Kaz for her inspirational song suggestion, 'I Would Have Waited Forever' by Yes. Although I had to trim the lyrics to meet this site's TOS, it's still a great theme song for Dante, and it played a big part in the creation of this chapter. :)
Chapter warnings: profanity, adult situations
Chapter Nine
Miaka tried very hard to suppress her smile as she entered the restaurant lobby, but knew she'd failed when Hannah De Berg called out her name. The woman's tone was buoyant, and she enthusiastically beckoned for Miaka to come over, her expression broadcasting the fact that she was fully prepared to run down and pounce upon her target if it tried to escape.
The lack of privacy in having this type of conversation at work was exasperating, and yet Miaka found herself acknowledging a strange kind of eagerness to share her news, a feeling that had her willingly capitulating to the inevitable. As she made the detour over to her friend's work station, the hostess grinned in triumph, and then lowered the volume of her voice to a discreet pitch as she asked,
"Where on earth did you meet that gorgeous sweetheart of a guy?"
"Out on the freeway yesterday, when he gave me a ticket for speeding."
Hannah was all eyes. "No way!"
"Yes way!"
"So after he stopped you, he found out where you worked and came here to ask you out?"
It was a partial and less complicated truth to go with, Miaka thought. Hannah seemed to have forgotten about the wadded-up shirt Dante had delivered, and any explanation of how he had come to have possession of it was best avoided in a public venue. "That's right."
"So incredibly romantic! Tell me you said yes!"
The hostess was almost crying with excitement. Despite the gravity of the situation, Miaka couldn' t resist stringing her along just a bit.
"Aren't you assuming too much when I'm in a relationship?"
"You mean that missing person relationship that's been going nowhere for months?" Hannah scoffed. "Don't roll your eyes at me, missy! Your face was an open book when you and Mr. Policeman walked out of here! You'll never convince me you're not interested in him!"
Miaka heaved a sigh. Six months ago she would have been embarrassed to be called on her feelings, but the past couple of months had seen this kind of conversation becoming a very normal part of a burgeoning friendship.
"Americans are really nosy!" She challenged, half-seriously.
"Yes, we do tend to get personally involved when we feel we're needed." Hannah shot back without batting an eye. "We also have a great deal of tenacity when it comes to rooting out the truth. So what was your answer?"
"If you really must know, I said yes."
Hannah clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeal. "At last! Out of the clear blue sky comes the guy that can make you realize what you've been missing!" Reaching out, she clasped the younger girl's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I'm so happy for you, Mia!"
"Thank you, Han-chan, but let's not get carried away! We're going out as friends!"
Even to her ears, it sounded weak.
"When pigs fly!" Hannah chortled. "The sparks were shooting! The chemisty was boiling! And the intensity was..." She fanned herself as she had done earlier. "Dante was very polite, but I tell you Mia, I could have been standing there stark naked clutching a rose in my teeth and he wouldn't have had eyes for anyone but you! That man is completely, totally and absolutely head-over-heels for you!"
Miaka gaped at her friend. Hearing that Hannah thought Dante had fallen that hard for her was so overwhelming, it almost made her want to deny it in case it brought a reversal of fortune! "He might like me, but how could he be head over heels when we just met yesterday?"
"I don't pretend to understand it, I just know that he is!" The hostess said pertly. As Miaka begain to look around them nervously, she added, "no need to be skittish. It was only obvious to me because I got a close up of his expression when he first caught sight of you." She leaned forward, and her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Trust me, Miaka. If you want the man, he's yours!"
Miaka couldn't think of a thing to say in response. Dante had certainly demonstrated in words and deeds that he was strongly attracted to her, but she had been too caught up in the idea of her seishi being reborn to consider what feelings he may have had for her as Tasuki that would be influencing him now. Thinking of it put her mind in a whirl, butterflies in her stomach, and had her heart threatening to leave her chest.
Taka had had many dreams about her and their connection before they'd met. Those feelings had been followed up in the wonderful reality of a chance meeting.
The same thing had happened with Dante. And because of past experience, she knew that for him to be drawn to her in this world would mean Tasuki would have had some very strong feelings about her.
Feelings that she had very likely reciprocated on a subconscious level. How could she tell this to Dante? What would happen if she did?
"I know this isn't going to be an easy time for you." Hannah stated, turning completely serious. "I won't tell anyone what's going on, unless you want me to, and I won't badger you about what you're thinking or doing, just as long as you promise to call on me if you need a friend to help you sort things out. Until then, my lips are sealed."
"Thank you, Han-chan." Miaka said warmly. "I promise I will."
Confiding in Hannah wasn't as effortless as confiding in Yui yet, but she had a strong feeling it would be, given more time. The cheerful American had her own sterling qualities to bring to the table, and it was wonderful having someone nearby to talk to who was unfailingly honest and supportive. "I have to get back to the kitchen and I know you have class tonight. How about taking our lunch break together tomorrow?"
"You're on!" The other woman grinned, then spoke in a conspiratorial murmur, "by the way, McMasters was busy hitting on Brianna while you were on break. Asked her out and she went for it. She's totally giddy and won't listen to the voices of experience...apparently she thinks we're just jealous because he's not interested in us."
Miaka grimaced in sympathy. "At least you tried. Maybe she'll figure it out before things go too badly?"
"She seems like an intelligent girl, so maybe." Hannah said doubtfully. "If not, we'll just have to be there to help her pick up the pieces."
Despite Hannah's assertion that people hadn't been close enough to notice, Miaka found herself running a gauntlet of widely smiling, inquisitive wait-staff that clearly had seen her leaving with Dante.
It served as a warning, and she was unsurprised to be met by yet another group of stares upon entering the kitchen; some curious, some amused, and others knowing. She tried to keep her expression pleasant but unreadable as she passed her co-workers; obviously, someone had tattled about her spending her break outside with a handsome police officer. At this point all she could do to side-track comments and questions was to get to work and hope that bending over a hot stovetop would provide an excuse tp avoid conversation and a reason for the blush that would be heating her cheeks every time she thought about Dante.
She hung up the t-shirt, washed her hands in the small staff room adjoining the kitchen proper, and then resumed her duties at her station, sending a brief, wary glance around the room while she did so.
Sure enough, McMasters had zeroed in on her entrance.
He returned her glance with a cool, hard-eyed stare that had her steeling herself for the inquisition she was sure was to come, but then he surprised her by simply turning his back and barking out orders to a thoroughly cowed pastry chef. Still, she didn't dare exhale in relief until she saw her boss fall into the process of beginning his own preparations for the special main course.
Whatever else he was, Kevin McMasters was a consummate professional, and doing his best to please the restaurant's clientele took precedence over his personal life. That trait and her getting the chance to learn his superior techniques with Mongolian and Tibetan grilled dishes were the reasons she had put up with the man's attentions for as long as she had.
But she shouldn't have to put up with anything, Dante was right about that. It didn't matter if Kevin hosted unationally syndicated cooking shows, or if he'd been the feature subject of articles in the top three fine dining magazines in the world. He was a world class chef, yes, but that didn't mean he was allowed to take personal liberties with his employees. And even if other assistants treated him as some sort of a god just because he had an agent, that didn't mean he couldn't be put in his place when he was wrong-which she was now resolved to do at the first opportunity.
She moved with determination to one of six stoves set into a counter in the middle of the large room. Picking up a shaker of cayenne pepper, she added a liberal dose to a fragrant sauce simmering in a big aluminum pot.
"Way to go, Yuuki!" A nasal voice murmured into her ear. "You do realize that Kevin got his undies in a bunch when he heard you two went off together, don't you? I can tell he won't be thinking about anything or anyone else but you for the rest of the day."
Miaka turned an affectionate smile towards the tall, sable-haired man standing beside her. Although his tone had been light, his finely wrought features were marred by a frown. "Alan dear, don't be like that. You know I don't care what Kevin thinks about me except when it comes to cooking." Her smile softened the edge in her voice. "There's no reason for you to be jealous of my standing with him, and there never will be. I have no interest in being around the man other than at work."
Her co-worker made a face. "I know, I know. Ignore me. I'm feeling bitchy because he's been lusting after the new waitress." Brown eyes flecked with gold narrowed in speculation. "Perhaps I should follow your example and try ignoring him. Lord knows all my pathetic ass kissing hasn't been getting me anywhere."
"Did you ever consider that the reason you're not getting anywhere is because McMasters isn't gay?"
"As a matter of fact I have, Miss Smarty Pants! But a man can hope, can't he? It wouldn't be the first time a closeted gay guy has acted like a Lothario in order to hide or deny his true tendencies!"
"I wouldn't know about that," Miaka said, grinning, "but I do know that if anyone can out him, you're the man!"
Alan's eyes grew large, then crinkled with amusement. "My goodness! To get such a ringing endorsement from the straightest person I know..." he paused to clutch his chest dramatically, "... mere words cannot express the happiness that dwells within the portals of this unworthy heart!"
Stumped for a comeback, she made a face that caused the sous chef to laugh and teasingly bump hips with her. "Something else just occurred to me, though," he said in a more serious tone. "What if Kevin guessed I have a thing for him? God, that would be a disaster, that's the surest way of scaring a closet case off!" He nibbled anxiously on a fingernail, and then stopped with a grimace. "Damn! I have to go wash my hands again!"
"Maybe it'll teach you to leave those nails alone!" Miaka told him unsympathetically. "And to answer your question, no, I don't think he's guessed how you feel. To be honest, I don't even think he even knows that you're gay! If he's noticed the way you like hanging around him, it's because he thinks you look up to him- you know, like a role model or a mentor."
"Meh." Alan sighed. "That's both irritating and a relief. I've taken great pains not to act jealous around him, I can't afford any more disasters since that incident a few months back..."
He paused, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he waited for Miaka to inquire.
She humored him. "An incident? What was that?"
"It was just before you started here. Kevin was shacked up for a awhile with this tall and curvy redheaded woman. You can imagine my disappointment, but I did my best to be friendly to her. Probably overcompensated, but whatever. Despite my charming demeanor, for some reason she took a dislike to me. She ignored me at parties, derided my catering creations in front of the staff, and sent in complaints about my cooking every time she ate here. After that, jealousy was the least of the reasons I didn't like her, but I tried even harder to be professional because she was in a position to get me fired."
Miaka nodded encourgingly as she stirred. "So then what happened?"
"The incident I'm talking about happened during a late dinner she was having here while waiting for Kevin. The person waiting on her was a young male trainee, and he got flustered when she flirted and displayed her considerable charms to get him to pour extra amounts of high priced liquor on the complimentary dish of her favorite dessert-cherries jubilee- that I had sent out to appease her complaints. She finally succeeded in getting the kid to bring her a glass, but he still had enough wits about him to say he hadn't yet mastered the training to safely light a dessert that was literally swimming in one hundred and fifty proof alcohol. She argued, of course, and Kevin came over to see what the problem was, and then ..." he took a deep breath,"...to prove her point that, as she put it, 'any schmuck could do it', she took the torch from the waiter and lit the dish herself."
Miaka gaped at him in horror. "Let me guess. A disaster in the making?"
"Oh yes. Luckily the trainee had a large serving dish and towel handy to smother the conflagration!"
"That's awful. I hope she wasn't burned?"
"No, not really. She was bending over to light the dish, but jerked back just in time. Her hair- eyebrows and four inches of her braid- got the brunt of the heat, but were only badly singed. What was untouched reeked of burnt alcohol, a scent which I know has a tendency to soak in for weeks. She tried, but no amount of shampooing could banish it."
"That's awful!"
"Yes, especially since she was a model for hair products." Alan said. "She was very pragmatic about cutting it all off, saying it was better to start over than to have to live with people saying 'what's that funny smell?' whenever she walked into a room."
Though it was an unfortunate situation, Miaka was having a hard time holding back a giggle. "It sounds to me like she had a sense of humor."
"True, I have to give her credit for that. But then she started making noises about a lawsuit for compensation for loss of income, and oh, did Kevin put the cabash on that! She'd thrown her weight around and taken matters into her own hands instead of listening to his trainee. He told her that she brought everything on herself, and they were through if she tried to go after the restaurant. There was nothing she could do but sign the waiver form if she wanted to keep Kevin around."
"Oh my. I know she was wrong but...he wasn't sympathetic at all about her hair?"
"Of course he was. He bought her a very expensive wig to use on photo shoots until her hair grew back. It was very lovely, looked completely natural." Alan's sigh of regret was less than sincere. "Unfortunately, right after that Kevin developed a severe skin allergy and it was determined he was allergic to the undetectable fumes from the chemicals in the wig's synthetic scalp."
"Uh oh."
"Exactly." Leaning forward, Alan finished in a hushed tone. "They had it out in the parking lot after work one night. He told her she had to get rid of the wig before they got into the car. She told him quite emphatically to suck it up, that he could get allergy shots. He hated needles, so he got rid of the rash by breaking up with her."
Miaka couldn't help chucking along with her friend's evil cackle, but a thought quickly sobered her. "You know, Alan, what you just told me and from what I've observed, even if he were gay, it wouldn't change a thing about him. Kevin doesn't care about anyone or anything except his job! He'd discard you like an old wrung-out dishrag the moment you disagreed with him or ceased to be of use!"
"I am fully aware of his personality flaws," Alan replied quietly, "and that he's a hard person to know, but I've managed to glean a little information that tells me there's a lot more to him than meets the eye."
She was skeptical. "Like what?"
"He donates part of his paycheck to a children's hospital. He cooks gourmet suppers for a low income assisted living place here in town a few times a year. And he's a sucker for environmental causes."
She was impressed, even though she didn't want to be. "Really?"
"Yes. And most importantly, he knows a good thing when he sees it. I know I've given you a bad time, and here's why. I'm worried because you are a person of substance who loves completely and unconditionally. Kevin sees that, and he wants it."
She was momentarily stunned by the compliment, one that she knew wasn't easily given. "Oh Alan. Thank you. But you would be the same to anyone who was lucky enough to win your heart."
"And what I wouldn't give for the chance to prove it." His smile was bleak.
Throwing down her chopping knife, Miaka put a gentle hand on her friend's arm. " I hate seeing you torturing yourself over someone who doesn't have the capacity to return your feelings! Is it so impossible to forget him? I want you to be happy!"
Golden eyes regarded her with something approaching tenderness. "If you truly want me to be happy, then allow me my hopes and dreams. Having fantasies about having the unattainable can't hurt one, if one realizes and accepts that they're only an illusion."
She blinked hard. "I understand that. But-"
"Which brings us back to my original question!" Alan added, firmly cutting off any further protests. "Start dishing, honey-bun! What's up with you and that deliciously buff hunk of flame-haired man-meat?"
Miaka sighed. As with Hannah, she knew there was no way to side track the good-natured inquistion. Alan Thompson was just as outspoken and opinionated about her lack of a love life as she was about his, if not more so. He had also proven to be a surprisingly understanding confidante once he had found out that she had absolutely no interest in Kevin McMasters. Even better, since Alan was openly gay, Taka hadn't had any objections to the two of them hanging out at work, or doing things outside of it as friends.
They had certainly shared some fun times, but nevertheless, there was still an aloofness about Alan, a kind of watchful edginess, that sometimes made her question just how much genuine liking for her he had and how much of their friendship was based on him wanting to keep tabs on her.
Maybe it was a good idea to reveal her feelings for Dante. If Alan knew how she felt, he'd realize once and for all that he had nothing to fear from her. She'd make it clear to him that McMasters had no chance, that Dante was-
Her train of thought was broken as a long fingered hand waved gracefully in front of her face.
"This is a lot more serious than I thought! Just who is this mystery man who has our single-minded Ms. Yuuki so wrapped up in daydreams and adding copious amounts of cayenne to a sauce that is supposed to be mild?" Without asking, he reached over her shoulder to grab the pepper can out of her hand. "Have to be careful with the hot stuff, honey, or you'll burn your tongue."
She grabbed the basil leaves she had been chopping and tossed them into the sauce. "Some people like it spicy."
"Very true." Alan smirked. "Which brings us back to the subject of Officer Hottie. My source tells me he was here on a personal visit."
Miaka bent over the sauce pot and briskly stirred its contents, glad that her cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the stove. "He knows me, yes."
"Does Taka know that you're bosom buddies with a policeman?"
She hesitated, and Alan's eyebrows went up. "So Taka doesn't know? Great Googly Moogly! Does this mean Mr. Hot Stuff is new boyfriend material?"
She knew he wouldn't let it go until she threw him a bone. "It's complicated, Alan. For now, let's just say he's a special someone that I wanted to get to know better and leave it at that."
From the sound of his voice, she could tell he was grinning. "But that's wonderful! And about time!"
"About time for what? Kiss and tell, or getting back to work?"
The two sous-chefs jumped guiltily as their boss came to a standstill behind them.
As ice blue eyes skewered her, Miaka had to fight the urge to take a step away.
He knows Dante was kissing me! She thought in sudden panic. But we were out of sight of the building. How could he have seen that unless he sent someone to spy on me while I was on break? No, no, no, what am I saying? He wouldn't go that far! He's just trying to intimidate me, that's all.
"Actually, Miaka and I were just discussing the in-depth article on Tibetan specialty dishes in last Sunday's Gazette!" Alan smoothly fibbed, drawing the chef's attention back to him. "I was telling her that it was about time they did a teach and learn piece with you on the cuisine from that region of the world. Tibet is such an isolated and inaccessible country, and having someone with your mastery and knowledge of their cultural and cooking traditions here in the Springs is an extraordinary thing."
Miaka remained silent, watching McMasters' countenance going from a frozen glare to the aspect of a man dethawing after an ice storm.
"Well, thank you." He said. "I was quite pleased that they chose to feature the more remote regional cuisines in which I specialize. But I must say the article fell short of my expectations..." the master chef shook his head, and conveyed the reason for his disappointment as two men began to turn away from her. "Considering the wide variety of questions and the detailed answers I gave, I would have thought the writer would have wanted to focus on the essence of the cultural and religious traditions involved in preparing to make the dishes instead of merely giving a rote listing of the process to the end result."
Alan nodded. "I completely agree. In fact, I have some questions about that if you wouldn't mind…"
As the two men wandered off and her boss soaked in his assistant's obvious admiration, Miaka smiled and turned back to her work, sending a silent thank you to Alan. She owed him for taking the heat and directing attention away from her, and if it served his own interests, so much the better.
She glanced at the clock. Three more hours and then she could go home and wait for Dante to call.
It seemed like an eternity.
With a sigh, she picked up the container of cayenne pepper that Alan had discarded.
A minute later, she found herself still holding the canister and grinning stupidly at it.
'Hot Stuff' really was a great nickname for Dante!
Dante strode into the precinct building with the single minded determination that he'd make short work of changing his clothes and writing up the reports he had to file. Nothing was going to interfere with his calling Miaka tonight if he had anything to say about it.
As he strode down the stairs that led to the changing room, he mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that it would be unoccupied. If someone was in there, he'd have to be polite and talk to them if they felt the need to chat which would take up too much valuable time.
Thankfully, there was no sign of life in the white-walled, windowless enclosure.
He walked straight to his locker, opened it, set his hat on the upper shelf, kicked off his shoes, and then proceeded to quickly peel off his sweaty uniform and socks. A sigh of contentment escaped him as the draft from the air conditioning vent dried his sweaty skin. It felt so good and did such an effective job of cooling him off, he debated about whether or not he needed to take a shower. However, one quick, tentative sniff of an armpit quickly changed his mind.
With a grimace, Dante hung up his uniform next to his street clothes, grabbed an unwrapped bar of soap sitting next to his hat, and then slammed the locker door shut. Clad only in his briefs, he padded across the room to the recessed cubicle that held two bathroom stalls and three enclosed showers.
Just in time he remembered to grab a towel; he detoured to a nearby shelf and took two, blithely ignoring the large sign on the wall that shouted 'HELP SAVE ON LAUNDRY COSTS: ONE TOWEL PER BODY!' After choosing the endmost shower stall, he finished disrobing, slung the towels on the provided bench together with his briefs, and then stepped into the shower proper.
He checked the nozzle, adjusting it to his height before turning it on with an expert flick of the wrist. His eyes closed in bliss as a pulsating spray of hot water began to massage his tense, overheated muscles.
It was unfortunate that only one side of him got the benefit of the heated spray while the other was literally left out in the cold. Wistfully, he pictured himself sitting in his Jacuzzi with a beer and soft music playing in the background, then shook off the image. He should be grateful that these showers were here for his use at all.
He took up the soap and started briskly lathering himself. It wasn't so bad; all he had to do was think of something to warm him up. Something like...
The vision of a naked Miaka pressing up against him as she ran soapy hands over his back more than did the trick. Desire ran through him like wildfire, and hee was vaguely surprised that the water bouncing off his skin wasn't turning to steam. As he felt his nether region becoming heavy and thick with need, he cursed. If he were at home, it wouldn't be a problem, but at work...
He turned to shut off the hot water, muttering and cussing some more as the pulsating warm stream changed to stabbing needles of ice.
In a minute, he was thoroughly chilled, distinctly unaroused and ready to get out. Cranking the faucets shut with force than necessary, he gingerly stepped out of the shower, shivering violently in the air conditioning as he did so. The tiled floor was slick from splattered water droplets, so he tossed one of the towels on the floor for traction and began to dry himself with the other.
Two bBooming, echoing voices in what sounded like an exchange of banter told him he was no longer alone. Without thinking much about it, he tuned him into the conversation taking place near the lockers, and his interest peaked as he recognized that the voices as belonging to two of his co-workers in Investigations; a seasoned veteran transfer from Chicago, Cody LaConte, and a rookie fresh out of the local police academy whose name escaped Dante at that moment.
His toweling motions had continued as he idly listened to their shop talk, but his arms froze in place as a single name captured his full attention.
"So how's the Sukinami case been coming together for you, Cody?"
"Not so well. I've been working on it from a different angle since Tager got reassigned, but it's a stalemate right now." LaConte's chuckle was grim. "Sukinami's made friends in some pretty high corporate places, and they've been keeping the guy far out of our reach."
"That's a bummer!" The other man said with sympathy. "Have you tried his girlfriend? Maybe she could get him to talk to you."
At hearing that, warning bells went off in Dante's mind and his eyes narrowed. How does the kid know about Miaka? Discussing logistics on Sukinami is one thing, but there's no need for him to know about her.
Courtesy dictated that he should be announcing his presence right then and there. But now that Miaka was part of the conversation, there was no way he was going to interrupt. Someone had said or done something they shouldn't have, and he was going to find out who.
"A good idea, but highly doubtful." LaConte replied glumly. "From the reports, Sukinami is into his job way more than her- he's a company man through and through. From what I've deduced, the pictures in the society page pretty much are the extend of their social contact. Kind of hard to understand, from all accounts she's a very pretty girl."
Dante's smile of agreement was wiped away by the younger man's reply.
"Kinda lame description of her, C.L." The younger man asserted. "I could do a hell of lot better from the pictures I saw!"
LaConte asked the question Dante was on fire to ask. "What pictures would those be?"
"Murray in surveillance had some of her from a stake out he did- he has a thing for Asian women, you know. He was totally into her, kept talking about her like she was some kind of a goddess. We gave him a bad time about her being a figment of his imagination, so he brought a few stills from the file and passed 'em around at lunch the other day."A low whistle followed the pronouncement."Let me tell ya, he wasn't exaggerating. Every guy there was droolin' over 'em!"
Murray did that? Dante clenched his jaw and his fists as he fought to stay calm. He's a veteran! He knows better than to think with his dick!
"Drooling would be her specialty." LaConte said, sounding amused. "She's a chef at the Phoenix."
The younger man made a sound of amazement. "Dude! Either Sukinami is light in the loafers or he needs a shrink! I sure as hell wouldn't be pullin' overtime if a girl like that was into me!"
"He's not gay." LaConte stated. "He's taking his woman for granted."
"That clinches it, I need to bribe Murray for some more info on her. She can do better, and what better person for her to lean on in her time of need than a handsome young cop?"
Too bad for you she's already got one. Dante thought grimly. Thoughts of punishing the hapless Murray were the only thing keeping his temper in check. Bad enough that a man who had so many commendations had stooped to this level, but to know Miaka was now the subject of locker room talk...
I'm gonna kick his ass to Topeka and back for passin' around those photos!
Biting down on the urge to throw something, he went back to listening.
LaConte was making noncommittal noises to his cohort's ideas for hooking up with Miaka.
"Aw c 'mon, C.L., I know you have a heart! She's a long way from home, and probably really lonely. Don't you think I'd have a chance?"
"Sure you do." LaConte paused for a beat. "As much chance as you have climbing Pike's Peak in a day-"
"A great chance then," Tom interjected smugly.
"-when you're ninety five!"
"Oh." The young man sounded deflated. "So no chance then?"
"I wouldn't say no chance." LaConte relented. "But I'd say the odds are such that you don't stand much of one unless your last name is Sukinami."
"I wonder what she's like to talk to." The younger man said, now sounding a bit wistful. "She definitely doesn't look like she belongs with the uppity, hard-faced bitch society. She has one of those great smiles that lights up her face, you know? And even if she's sexy...she still looks like the kind of girl you could take home to the parents and they'd love her."
You're fuckin' right on about that one, buddy. Dante thought grimly. Not that you're ever gonna get the chance to find out.
"I've never met her, but everyone I've interviewed has positive things to say about her." LaConte said reflectively. "Have to say that if she would cut ties with Sukinami, you'd most likely have competition from the other guys."
"Not if I get there first."
"Good luck. You'd still be acting on borrowed time."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"I mean if her application of permanent residency doesn't go through because of this business of Sukinami's, she's most likely out of here."
"What? No way! If she's not...I mean, they can't really do that, can they?"
"I'm afraid they can, Tom. Sukinami vouched for her on the paperwork, and on top of that he's helping her out with various expenses- as well as putting up half the rent for her apartment. If he doesn't cooperate and gets the book thrown at him. I doubt the INS will look favorably on her application or even on extending her visa."
"But that's not fair! She hasn't done anything wrong!" Tom's furious protest echoed Dante's own thoughts.
"I know. But that's life. No matter how innocent you are, you're still gonna be judged by the company you keep."
There was a long pause.
"Damn, but that really sucks!"
"Yep. It sure does."
There was the sound of two locker doors being slammed, followed by a fading exchange of farewells as the detectives walked out the door.
Dante released the breath he had been holding into the dead silence.
His displeasure at hearing other men salivating over Miaka's attributes was nothing compared to hearing of her dependence on Taka Sukinami. The man was the key to her being here, and he could be the reason she had to leave. But as much as it galled him to think she could be denied residency because of her association with Sukinami, it was even more galling to know exactly how much he owed the man. Was there any way he could get around the guilt of endangering the livelihood of the guy who'd almost died saving Miaka's life, much less that he was actively pursuing stealing her away from him?
After a few more moments of thinking and agitatation, he gave it up as a bad job, put on his briefs, tossed the wet towels in a nearby laundry tub and headed for his locker. Throwing open the door, he dressed quickly in jeans and a dark blue CSPD t-shirt, and then paused to stare at himself in the small mirror mounted inside the locker door.
Miaka had applied for permanent residency. Even if things weren't going well with her relationship, she was making a commitment to stay.
Which meant if the case messed up her visa or her application for permanent residency, her having to leave would be his fault.
He couldn't let that happen. He'd find a way to fix it. Or fight it.
Even if she rejected his help, he'd never walk away from her.
A hot, prickling sensation seared his forearm. He looked down, unsurprised to see his phoenix tattoo growing brighter and much more pronounced in outline. After a long, reflective moment, his gaze returned to the mirror. Slowly and deliberately, he ran his fingers through his hair until it was free of its comb-back and his bangs fell forward to their usual spot over his brow; he then uncovered the rat-tail braid and pulled it forward so that it curled around the side of his neck.
The only thing missing from the image was a necklace and his favorite set of earrings, which he had left at home at his chief's request. But it felt like something else was missing too- something he always had around his person.
His hand slid down to the center of his chest, and then back up to his shoulder. His gun holster?
But he wasn't packing that on patrol.
And there was nothing more aggravating than not being able to figure out what was going on in his own head.
Muttering in frustration, he grabbed his uniform and bundled it into the back pack lying at the bottom of his locker- he had always preferred bringing his own shoulder pack to the CSPD standard issue duffle bag; it simply felt more natural and comfortable to carry his stuff that way.
He zipped the pack shut, slung it over one shoulder and then froze in place, still thinking hard. He was having one of his gut feelings- this one said that there were legitimate reasons for these spells of fantasy growing stronger.
Everything he'd felt from his first encounter with Miaka to talking with the weird old lady said that there was some pretty weird karma going on here.
Was it a flashback? A memory? Something his subcoscious was trying to tell him?
Whatever it was, he was determined to find out why it was happening. There had to be scientific or paranormal research on this kind of thing.
And hell, as long as he was at it, why not look into if there was any earthly explanation for his tattoo lighting up like a neon sign whenever he thought of Miaka?
Dante glanced at the clock on the wall. He had tons of unanswered questions, but they would have to wait. It was time to get moving on the work-related matters that he needed to deal with, starting with confronting Officer Murray on his highly unacceptable lapse in judgment.
It was three and a half hours after her conversation with Alan had ended that Miaka retrieved her purse, t-shirt, and a bottle of mineral water from the staff room refrigerator, and tiptoed out the back door of the Phoenix Grill's kitchen. She hated leaving without a word of goodbye to anyone, but it was necessary in to order to avoid any further confrontations with her boss. Even now she half expected Kevin to sense her departure and come after her, but thankfully he was deep in conversation with a manager from second shift and she was able to escape, undetected.
Disregarding the blazing heat that assailed her when she emerged from the building, she broke into a half-run, making a beeline for the side lot where her car was parked. Once inside, she locked the doors, started the engine and cranked the air conditioning on high before unscrewing the cap to the bottled water. She took several deep, grateful gulps of the cold liquid, then placed the cool plastic of the bottle against her cheek and neck.
I need a nice, long shower and a good meal, she thought tiredly. I'll stop at the corner shop and pick up some fixings for supper.
The little market was more expensive than the chain grocery stores, but it was also less crowded, always stocked fresh specialty produce and was only a block from her apartment, which made it worth the extra dollars.
Time was of the essence, nothing was going to make her miss Dante's call!
Dante strode out of the precinct building with a spring in his step and a glint in his eye that spoke of having successfully accomplished his objectives.
Murray hadn't denied the incident when confronted with it, and had taken the severe chewing out he had been given like a man. Afterwards, he had quietly apologized for his transgression, and his sincerity had been quite apparent, Dante lost the desire to write him up as procedure dictated that he should have done. The two of them had been on the investigations team since its inception, after all, and as long as Murray was now square on what was acceptable conduct regarding surveillance photos of women, Dante was fine with leaving it there.
After that, the rest of his paperwork had gone well and since there had been no emergency meetings, he was now free for the night. A smile of anticipation spread across his face as he thought about getting to call Miaka far earlier than anticipated.
As he reached his SUV, another thought struck him. He was only a few blocks from her apartment, and he knew Miaka hadn't any plans that evening...so why couldn't he just bop on over there and take her out for supper? She didn't seem the type to mind drop-ins…and if he was lucky, she might even be in the mood to pick up where they had left off the other night…
His smile had grown to epic proportions by the time he unlocked the door, clambered into the SUV and fastened his seat belt. However, it quickly faded as he glanced out the passenger window and spotted Detective Cody LaConte getting into the sedan parked next to him.
LaConte turned his head, caught his gaze, and gave him a cheerful little wave, which Dante returned halfheartedly. Seeing his replacement on the Sukinami case was an unpleasant reminder that he hadn't been forthcoming about his job with Miaka.
She might break things off when she finds out - but I'm not gonna think that way! She's fair, and I know she'll give me a chance!
As he waited for LaConte and a couple of other coworkers to leave their parking spaces, Dante flipped on the radio and tuned in his favorite station. When the cars had left, he backed out and followed them sedately, not wanting to attract their attention by any displays of haste.
Predictably, an ornery inner voice was cursing him for the enforced delay, and he silenced it with the reminder that only minutes remained until Miaka was back in his arms.
Taka grinned in anticipation as he made his way up the stairway to Miaka's apartment. A quick glance at his watch a moment before confirmed that his plans were, so far, coming along very well. He had timed this little surprise perfectly, making sure he was able to leave the office in time to arrive at the apartment just shortly after Miaka got home from work. He knew from experience that she would be tired and sore from standing all day, and his fingers were just itching to work the kinks out of her tense muscles.
He'd be able to do it every day if she were waiting for him to come home to her.
Thinking about Miaka's insistence that they live apart change his secretive smile to a scowl of discontent.
He knew he didn't show it often enough, but he truly missed being able to do all the sweet, intimate little things they used to do, like spending time curled up together on the rug in front of his fireplace. He knew she did as well, and so he still didn't understand why it was that she refused to move in with him. He had tried to explain to her several times that besides being able to see a lot more of each other, not to mention more cost efficient for them bothe if they shared a residence, but Miaka would have none of it.
Not wanting to spoil the mood for love, Taka pushed all troubled thoughts aside in favor of imagining the look of surprise on his beloved's face when she saw him. In a few seconds his grin had reappeared and his slow, stepping gait had quickened to a jog. When he arrived at her door he went to knock on it, then stopped. With a thought that it would add to the surprise if he let himself in, he reached into his trousers pocket.
His key rattled a bit in the lock but the door opened silently, as he had hoped.
All was still and quiet within the apartment. He called out. "Miaka?"
No answer. Frowning in concern, Taka closed the door behind him and flipped the deadbolt lock into place. Then he sneezed. Looking down, he met the cool, assessing stare of Miaka's cat, Mizu. As was the norm in Taka's presence, the Siamese's back was stiffly arched and his slightly kinked tail was twitching back and forth in a manner that could only be described as unwelcoming.
He crouched down, his hand extended, only to retract it hastily as the cat hissed and swiped at it with a paw.
Damn cat thinks he owns her. If only I could talk her into getting a dog…but nah, I couldn't do that. She loves the little hairball, so I'll have to keep trying. He's just acting tough. Sooner or later he'll have no choice about eating out of my hand.
He decided to try the direct approach.
"I'm sorry for startling you, Mizu. I know you don't like me, and I accept that. But can't we call a truce? I'd be grateful if you would allow me to pass."
The animal continued to glare for a moment. Then, emitting something that sounded like a contemptuous snort, it grudgingly submitted to the request, stretching out in a reclining position, eyes unblinking and fixed on its human nemesis, tail swishing back and forth in a languid motion.
"Thank you, Your Highness." Taka murmured, bowing sarcastically. "I'm in your debt!"
He moved forward, thinking he was home free. A nasty swipe at his exposed ankle convinced him otherwise. With a muttered curse, he managed to evade damage, but knew better than to make the mistake of gloating or scolding the cat. It had a worse way of getting even, and he didn't want his expensive clothing smelling of cat pee.
He glanced around the dividing wall into the living room. Finding it empty, he made his way down to the kitchen. A quick look inside revealed a brown grocery bag and various foodstuffs sitting on the counter but still no Miaka. Then, as he turned into the hallway that led to the bathroom and the apartment's two bedrooms, he heard running water and a feminine voice singing in Japanese coming from her bathroom.
He crept down the hall, pushed on the door so that the opening was big enough to admit him, and stealthily entered the steamy room beyond. Once inside, he could see the outline of Miaka's nude body behind the frosted glass of the shower door. From the movements of her arms, he guessed she was shampooing her hair and his body quickly responded to that knowledge. Although he had seen her naked more times than he could count, every time was like the first.; the perfection of her small frame always made him breathless with desire, and the beauty of her blushing modesty never failed to fill his heart with tenderness.
She was still singing, but she had switched to a different tune; he smiled as he recognized the song as a current j-pop favorite about a girl rediscovering an ancient but timeless love.
An idea materialized and his hands immediately carried it out, making short work of removing his suit; soon he was at opening of the corner shaped enclosure, wearing nothing but a very sly grin. Luckily, Miaka had her back turned to him and was too wrapped up in singing to notice his presence.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled on the shower door until it opened and immediately caught his breath at the beautiful, glistening body that was revealed to his avid gaze. It was at times like this, he thought, that memories of his past life struck him in force; her gracefully arched back, upturned face and blissful expression as she received the flow of water made her look exactly like she had during her purification ritual before the Ceremony to summon Suzaku.
It was hard to believe that he'd found her again over ten years ago. Yes, her breasts had filled out to more womanly proportions and the span of her hips might have widened a bit, but to him, she looked as youthful and supple as the fifteen year old girl with which he- and Tamahome- had both fallen in love.
He stepped into the shower and closed the door, the sound of his movements concealed by the gush of water and her voice. He hesitated, savoring the sweet anticipation of the moment…and then reached out to run his forefinger down the middle of her back.
Miaka's reaction was only half of what he had been expecting. He had known the song would abruptly turn to a sharp, high pitched shriek and that she would whirl around to confront him exactly the way she did. However, instead of laughing and falling into his embrace, she backed away, covering her breasts with one arm as the other struck out at him with a ferocity born of severe fright. Instinctively, he lunged backwards into the wall behind him to avoid the blows, and grimaced as his shoulders and buttocks smacked painfully against cold ceramic tile.
"Miaka! It's okay! It's only me!" He reached out to take hold of her flailing arm, and then let out a loud curse as he slipped and had to catch himself by grabbing the towel bar.
She stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes as he righted himself. "T-Taka! What...what in the world are you doing here?"
Her voice could barely be heard above the sounds of water beating against tile and glass, and her chest was rising and falling with each of her short, rapid breaths.
He wiped excess water from his eyes and mouth smiled wryly. "I arranged to get off work early today so I could come and surprise you."
"Surprise me?" She echoed, as auburn eyebrows lowered ominously over green eyes. "You scared the absolute living daylights out of me! As far as I knew, you could have been anyone! What were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"
Apparently he had scared her far worse than it first appeared, because she certainly wasn't falling into the giggly, amorous mood that she normally did in these kind of situations. Had it really been that long since he'd done this sort of thing, that she really wouldn't expect it? He thought about it, and then closed his eyes as the sick realization hit him that he couldn't immediately recall the last time he had visited Miaka right after work.
And with that realization, came the certainty that he had a lot of groveling to do to get himself back into her good graces.
His eyes opened, and he gave her his most apologetic look as his brain frantically searched for a sure fire way to make things right. His intentions were good, yet he honestly couldn't help it when his gaze followed the enticing sway of her breasts as Miaka brushed back the wet tendrils of hair that had become plastered to her cheeks. He could feel his flesh hardening in response, which doubled the urgency to his making amends.
"I'm sorry, Mi-chan…let me make it up to you?" His eyes were soft with love and seductive intent as he moved closer. "How about if I wash your back for you…you always love that...and maybe some other things…?" His hands lifted, reaching for the globes of flesh that had been tantalizing him.
To his astonishment, she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I appreciate the thought, but it's time for me to get out!" Her smile was tight as she showed him the rippled fingertips of one hand. "My skin is starting to prune, and besides that, I have groceries to put away! But stay and take a nice, relaxing shower if you like."
As Taka stared into chilly green eyes, his desire went into rapid decline. "I'm really sorry, Miaka."
"You should be!" She said, not unkindly.
"I am, I am! And that's why I hoped... that there was something I could do to help relax you after upsetting you so badly."
Her eyes warmed a little. "I appreciate the thought, Taka, but honestly, I need some space right now. I've gotten used to having this time to decompress from work." And if you ever came here at this time even occasionally you would know that, her underlying tone stated."I'm just not in the mood to relax that way."
As badly as he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away her objections, Taka wasn't a fool; a vital part of his job was to read people, and his beloved's expression and body language were making it very plain that forcing the issue of sex would be a huge mistake.
"Fine, I'll give you your space," he said gruffly. "Is it all right to ask you for a hello kiss before you do this unwinding of yours?"
"Of course." She went on tiptoe to brush her lips against his in a brief emulation of a kiss. "I'm going to get dressed. And actually, when you're finished in here, I think I'd like to have a talk."
Before he could respond or protest or question, she had pulled away, pushed the shower door open, and scooted out of his reach.
"So in between the perfect flame of you, this love will never let you down…just take it as it comes…for everything will come around."
Singing along with the song on his stereo and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Dante drove slowly through the crowded lot in front of Miaka's apartment complex.
His eyes scanned the rows of cars, and then lit up when he saw an open spot conveniently located next to Miaka's red LeBaron. He accelerated and quickly swung into it just as another car rounded the corner.
"I would have waited forever, for you to return into my life, I would have waited forever, I would have given you everything I had …"
Still singing, Dante switched off the ignition, and then checked his appearance out in the rear view mirror. Satisfied with what he saw, he got out of the vehicle, making sure to secure all of the locks before slamming the door.
He finished singing the song as he jogged across the lot to the stairway leading to Miaka's apartment.
"I would have waited forever, no question in my body and soul. Forever…"
Miaka had just thrown on a t-shirt and shorts when she heard the door buzzer sound. "More unexpected company." She muttered. "Who could that be?"
She exited the bedroom, shut the bathroom door where Taka was taking her up on her suggestion to take an extra long shower, and then went to peer through the peephole.
"Oh…"
With trembling fingers she quickly turned the deadbolt and yanked opened the door. "Dante!"
She felt as if her soul was smiling.
"Miaka!" He replied with a happy befanged grin. "How's it goin'? Whatcha been up to?"
Before she could answer, a streak of gray had shot between her ankles. "Mizu! Come back here!" She exclaimed in surprise. It was rare for her heat sensitive cat to show any desire to venture outdoors before sundown.
"It's all right- he just wanted to say hi, that's all." Dante said, crouching down to stroke her pet, who was busily rubbing up against his ankles. "Whazzup, pussycat?" He asked, then snickered as the feline responded right on cue.
"This is a wonderful surprise!" She said, as he gave Mizu a final stroke and stood up. "I thought you would still be at work!"
"I managed to get out on time today!" He responded happily. "I was gonna go home and call ya, but then I thought, what the hell- I'm in the neighborhood, so why not deliver the message in person?" His gaze boldly strayed down her body, taking note of her wet hair and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. "I'm sorry, did I get ya out of the shower or somethin'?"
She blushed. "No! I just had gotten-" Her mouth rounded into an 'o' of dismay and her eyes widened. Taka! Taka was still in the shower!
"Miaka, what is it?" Dante asked, frowning. "Are you feelin' dizzy again? Why don't we go in and-"
"No, you can't go in there!" She said frantically.
He gave her a baffled look. "Why not?"
She opened her mouth to explain, only to be spared the trouble as Taka's laughing voice rang out into the hallway.
"Oi, Mi-chan! You stole all the towels!"
Closing her eyes against the sight of Dante's frozen expression, Miaka silently wished for a dimensional rift to open up and swallow her where she stood.
After what seemed an eternity, but was merely a few long, tense seconds, Taka called out again. She didn't answer. Mizu pawed at her leg, but she remained mute and rooted to the spot, trying to think of what she could do, or what she could possibly say to dispel the terrible things Dante must be thinking about her in that moment.
The first thing that came to mind was that she should at least be looking at him, so he could see that she wasn't trying to hide anything.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to find her vision obscured by tears. Blinking hard in a futile attempt to clear them, she finally averted her gaze and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Dante, I know how this must look to you, but I swear I didn't know he was coming over! I was taking a shower, and he totally surprised me, and … w-we didn't shower together! Well, he did sneak into the shower with me, but I yelled at him and got out right away-oh!"
She gasped and her eyes opened wide as she felt herself being grabbed by her upper arms and propelled forward. A navy blue clad, tightly muscled chest loomed in front of her face, then obliterated the rest of her words. Steely arms wrapped around her body, providing both comfort and support.
"I believe ya." Dante said quietly. "It's my fault. My droppin' in like this wasn't fair…I shoulda called first."
She wound her arms tightly about his waist. "Don't say that! I love that you surprised me!" Her voice was fierce. "Please, I don't want you to leave-"
"Mi-chan! I can't find any clean towels!"
Miaka cringed. Taka's voice had drastically increased in volume, and held a distinct note of annoyance.
"All right! Criminy, ya better go get the damn towels or he'll have a fuckin' heart attack!" Dante growled.
"O-Okay! I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere!"
His smile was borderline feral. "No worries, I'm not movin' an inch!"
Turning on her heel, Miaka sped off to her bedroom, where she grabbed two towels from her clean laundry pile, then went to open the bathroom door and tossed them in at Taka.
"Thanks love!" He said cheerfully. "I'll be out in about five minutes and then we can talk."
"No rush, take your time!"
Miaka closed the door and hurried back to the entryway, heaving a sigh of relief when she saw that Dante was standing right where she'd left him, just outside the open doorway.
When their eyes met, her heart gave a lurch at the hurt and jealousy etched in his expression.
Her response to it came from the heart.
Without a word or a second thought or worry about being seen, she walked up to him and slipped her arms around his neck.
His went around her waist as he lowered his forehead to rest against hers.
"I was gonna ask if ya wanted to grab a bite to eat with me," he said, "but it looks like there's a prior engagement."
She could tell he was trying very hard not to make too big a deal out of it, but his disappointment was tangible.
That settled the matter. Though she wasn't keen on tackling a show down after a very long day, she would do it. "Well, quite honestly, after the stress of the last day, I was going to have a relaxing evening in..."
"I understand." He said, wincing a bit.
"But now that you've arrived, I've changed my plans! I'm going to be busy, but not with Taka."
"You mean with me?" He eyed her as she nodded with vigor. "You sure?"
"Yes. After he gets dressed, I'm going to tell him he'll have to go and why."
He stared at her.
"Could you please wait for me out in your car while I talk to him?" She asked, a bit nervously.
Dante tipped his head back and gazed at the heavens. "Will I wait, she asks."
Miaka wasn't sure how to read his reaction. Was he happy that she was finally going to confess? Or feeling uncomfortable with the situation?
"I'll understand if you don't want to!" She offered meekly. "I'm really sorry to ask it of you!"
He looked at her then, and his smile set her heart thundering.
"I'm not." He said. "For you, I'd wait forever!"
To be continued...
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