Night. Sousuke was not sure what had awakened him. Eyes still closed, breathing unchanged, he sensed nothing, no danger. Still, something was amiss. He got on his feet, eyes adjusting to the dark. Window, check. Door, check. Kaname kept a baseball bat in the corner. An attack was unlikely to succeed. Still, cautious, he silently moved and picked it up.

Something is not right. It was frustrating to not know why. He sensed no danger. Moving to Kaname's door, he opened it.

She is crying. He knew pain, it was like an unwanted friend, telling you you were alive. He knew it well. He had been tortured many times before, but the pain that seized his heart was like nothing he ever had been through. He checked his pulse because it felt like his heart had stopped.

Her eyes tight shut, tears leaking from the corner and leaving wet spots on her pillow. He went to her side, knelt down, unsure of how to help. Her breathing was punctuated my small whimpers. Not knowing what to do, he gently held her hand. With any luck she would forget by morning. She tightened her grip on his, small delicate fingers curling around his. Her breathing seemed to ease and return to normal and her tears stopped. Sometimes she seemed like a force a nature, but now she seemed small and fragile, like a porcelain doll.

His legs were cramping by the time she let his hand go. He picked up the bat, left her room and laid down on the small couch again. He fell asleep with one more worry on his mind.

Morning came and Sousuke was up with the sun, again making breakfast. Eggs and bacon. Cooking was not something he had ever needed to learn. Field rations had been sufficient. But cooking, he had figured out, was cheaper. It was also something Kaname seemed to enjoy.

"Sousuke..." Kaname mumbled, standing in her doorway.

"Yes?"

She sniffed the air. "Food?" she asked hopefully?

"Affirmitive."

"Good." And without either one realizing it, their life together had started, over eggs and bacon.

One Week Later...

Kaname had ended up getting a full-time job at an office. Some regional office for some big, multinational company. It sounded great and glamorous, but it was a lot of paper pushing, typing and boring office stuff. Not to mention the insane security needed to get in. The office was mostly guys; she was one of the few girls, and had yet to make any friends. The guys did, well guy stuff when not working. Mostly talk about girls when they thought she was listening.

She kept typing. Entering data, filing reports. Turning paper reports into files on the computer. Sitting in her little cube, dull gray fabric walls staring back at her. She really needed to put something up, pictures, anything to keep the gray from driving her crazy. Her male workmates seem to have developed a sudden interest in the water cooler across from her cubicle. Sousuke had landed a job cleaning some big office. It must have been pretty important, too. He had to pull some strings to get recommendations from some of his higher up military contacts.

But it was harder than she thought. She got up in the morning, while Sousuke was sleeping. By the time she came home, he was getting ready for work. They usually managed to see each other over her dinner, his breakfast. Most of the time it was takeout. She was tired, and it seem all he could make was eggs and bacon. She loved the fact that he cooked for her, but she could only stomach so much eggs and bacon.

Night time was hard on her. After just a week she had gotten so used to him there, then having him gone at night was hard on her. But that was life. She knew he would saver her, always. Somehow.

She went back to typing. Her focus on turning Japanese characters into Romanjii and then back into Japanese characters was interrupted by a male workmate.

"So, you are Kaname, right?" he said, leaning by the entrance of her cubicle.

"And you are?" she said, still typing.

"Ryuji Takani." he answered cockily.

"Well, that's good to know," she answered, still tying away.

"So, some of us are getting together for some drinks after work, you want to come?"

"Nope." Tone dripping ice. Still typing.

"Oh, okay, then." He deflated and sulked away. She kept typing. Three more hours until she got off. Three more hours.

Three hours and thirty minutes later, she was on a train headed home. The sun was setting, and she was bored. By now she had knew who got off at what stop. There was the old man and the otuka who got on with here, next stop was the creeper, who got off a stop before her, and a few businessmen. The creeper was, as usual, creepy. He usually went after older women, just staring. But today he was staring at her.

"What?!" she asked him.

"You're pretty ..." he responded, creepy smile on his face.

"And my boyfriend's a mercenary," she told him. His smile disappeared. He suddenly seemed real interested in studying his hands. He got off at his stop, and she at hers.

The walk home was not as easy as she remembered. She hurried home and sagged on the door.

"Kaname?" Sousuke asked.

"Sousuke! I'm home!"

"How was work?" he asked, getting dressed, takeout on the table.

"Okay. Some guys at work are bothering me. They go after anything with boobs and a pulse, I guess," she said angrily.

"Understood. I will be sure to dispose of them throughly. No trace will be left behind-" WACK! Her shoe impacted with his head.

"No kidnapping!" she yelled.

"Very well, I suppose a precision explosive can be used instead to neutralize the target."

"You're not blowing up my workmates!" she yelled and threw her hands up in the air. "Why are you always like this? WHY CANT YOU BE NORMAL!"

"Kaname, I'm-" she cut him off as she stomped to her room and slammed the door.

"Sorry," he told the door. But it was too late. He finished getting dressed for work, then went out the door.

As he walked to the train station, he wondered why she was so mad. He did admit, perhaps, a simple threat might work, but he did not understand why she was so upset.

"Maybe I should ask Webber," he said out loud. He got to the train and spent the rest of the ride pondering the best course of action. Relationships were a new and frighteningly unknown battlefield. No, more like a minefield, in the dark, with no moon or stars overhead. He sighed on the inside. This was his stop, and he was no nearer to understanding her then he was when he got on the train.

He got off the train, exited the station and walked to the building he was assigned to clean. He used his pass to get in the door, then was checked out by security, went up stairs, checked in again with security and finally made his way to the janitor's office. His two workmates, an old, gray man who called himself Bob, and a second old man named Bill, were already there. They had the look of military men, or had been long ago. Very, very long ago. He wondered if they saw action with the Imperial Japanese Army, or maybe with the US Navy. Most likely the U.S Navy. They didn't talk much, mostly in one or two word replies.

"Trouble?" Bob's ancient voice asked him.

"Well, yes. Some," Sousuke replied.

"Woman?" Bill chimed in.

"Affirmitive." They both nodded in unison to Sousuke's reply.

"Bad?" asked Bob again.

"Well, I am not really sure. Then again I am never really sure what she is thinking most of the time."

Bob just grunted a noncommittal reply.

"Surely in your combined years of experience, you have some advice or course of action that may help in this situation?" he asked them.

"Flowers," Bob replied.

"Chocolates," Bill said.

"That's it? But that does not seem to help identify the problem at all..."

"Nope," they both replied.

"But then how do I acquire the information needed to please Kaname?"

"Luck," said one.

"Damage control," said the other.

"So you're saying, all I can do is attempt to repair the damage, and hope for the best?"

"Yep."

"With flowers and chocolates," Sousuke said doubtfully.

"Roses best," one said.

Sousuke pondered this while doing his rounds. Aside from the heavy security, the work itself was rather mundane. The pay was good, and it was pretty much standard office cleaning. The night passed and soon the first vestige of day approached. The three janitors clocked out, passed through security again and parted ways. It was too soon to buy flowers, he decided. Not many shops were open this early. He went home, opened the door, and soon passed out on the couch.