I do not own Maria-sama Ga Miteru. #Sadface

A/N: Aaaand here we have part six!

Enjoy.

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Gravity

Part 6

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I don't know how I even managed to sleep that night, let along function adequately enough to pull myself out of bed and make myself presentable for work the next morning. I had two days off a week, with a work day floating between them, so it was always a little jarring to have one day off, then work the next day only to have my second day off right after that. But I got used to it well enough to suffer through it with nothing but a grimace and some makeup.

Of course, normally I wouldn't have gone out with my 'friend' to a BDSM club. Normally, I wouldn't have spent my evening a blushing, stammering, bubbling cauldron of estrogen.

If I dreamed at all during the night, I didn't remember it. All I could remember was tossing and turning, my wayward thoughts drifting back to the feeling of soft cushions under me, the smell of leather and coffee, and the undeniably satisfying scent of pleasure wafting through the air. The oft sound of music, sharp intakes of breath and the low murmur of voices, dripping with feelings and hints that I didn't – had never – had a real name for.

And Shimako was right there next to me through it all, a sphynx-like smile on her lips as she watched me fidget and squirm as Setsuna had her wicked way with Yoko. The entire show had been erotic; a dance that was as much Yoko and Setsuna's as it had been mine and Shimako's. I knew why she had brought me there – she had wanted to see how I would take such a spectacle and gauge my reaction. I knew about such places, of course, but had never gone to one. If I asked Touko, she would have gone with me no questions asked. I couldn't imagine Sachiko going to one, though, even if I asked. She just didn't seem the type; and the fact that Shimako frequented them was as surprising as it was confusing.

She had been right; she wasn't a teenager anymore, there was probably a lot of things I didn't know about her. But I wanted to learn.

After the show had ended I stood on shaky legs and Shimako led me out to her car, her hand on my arm as though both guiding me and laying her claim at the same time in one elegant gesture. It was both sweet and comforting, and set my skin on fire around the entire area she touched, her fingertips burning the fine hairs of my forearm. She opened the passenger side door for me and I barely remembered to mumble a thank you as she smiled and started the car.

The ride was made in silence, either because Shimako wanted what she had shown me to sink in, or the fact that I had no idea what to say. Honestly, what could I have said? Thank you for the night? It was… interesting? How conflicted I had been; wanting both to run away and wind my head back on straight while at the same time wanting to stay and watch, knowing how horribly turned on I had been the entire time?

It was equal parts maddening and embarrassing, so I kept my mouth shut and let Shimako take me home, waving off the offer for a light dinner.

We arrived at my apartment and I still hadn't worked up the courage to say anything, simply letting myself be escorted up to the third floor to my door. I fished out my keys from my bag and unlocked the door with shaking hands, cursing slightly when I almost dropped them in the process. When the door finally opened, I would have collapsed in relief if it weren't for the gently touch to my side.

I jumped, whirling around to find Shimako inches away, her large eyes searching my face and arm snaking around my waist. I felt my breath catch in my throat and I trembled there, in her firm grip.

"Um," I muttered, shocked I even managed to her out that much, as dry as my throat suddenly had become.

"When can I see you again?" Shimako asked, her voice barely above a whisper. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as her breath ghosted across my face, and it took almost more willpower than I had to bury my nose in her hair and inhale.

"I, um, t-tomorrow?" I winced, my mind whirling to come up with an excuse to ditch work entirely and stay with Shimako. But, as that would leave Megumi alone all day, I couldn't come up with excuse good enough. Megumi was a good co-worker and friend, but I care about her enough not to throw her under the bus, even for something like this.

Shimako blinked slowly, her head tilting to the side. "You are working." It wasn't a question. Later, I would have to ask how the woman knew my work schedule.

"I have the next day off." I muttered, a not-so-subtle attempt to explain my reasoning. Only after I said so, I realized that I basically had said I would be free to stay together all night.

The corners of Shimako's lips curled up into a smile. "Then I will come and collect you when you are finished. Same place?"

"Yes." I swallowed, allowing myself to shuffle forward, inching closer to her. "I, um… okay."

I froze when she stepped closer to me, closing the distance and brushing her fingers against my cheek. She brought her lips to mine in a kiss – one even softer and sweeter than her last one barely a day ago, and yet someone far more passionate than the one she gave me to ward off my earlier pursuer at the café. I don't know how I managed to stay standing, with my entire body feeling like warm pudding, but somehow I managed to pull it together enough to slip my hand around her waist, prolonging the kiss a few more delirious seconds before she pulled away, a small, secretive smile on her lips.

And then, just like the previous night, she was gone, shutting the door behind her and leaving me fighting to stay afloat in my own head.

We will have our dance, her smile had said. And I promise you will enjoy it.

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"What the fuck? Is thing going to be a common occurrence?" Was the first thing Megumi said to me as I walked in the café the next afternoon. In her defense, I didn't look all that much better than the previous days. I had slept a bit worse, and had barely been able to choke down a bagel for breakfast before getting ready for the afternoon, but even I could tell when I was less 'Yumi' than normal. And apparently, so could Megumi.

"Not exactly." I muttered, shucking off my t-shirt only to replace it with a white button-up. As I attacked my hair with a brush in front of the small mirror in my locker, Megumi sidled up to me, her frown doing a one eighty, turning into a smug grin.

"So… did you get lucky last night?"

I blushed, ducking my head as I remembered what I had done – seen – last night. "Not… exactly."

Megumi blinked. "Okay... so, details?"

My lips twisted as I balanced what to tell her and what to omit. "She and I had a talk. About our… thing."

"Okay."

"And things are good now. I think. I mean, she still feels the same way about me that she did before."

Megumi smiled, nodding. "That's good. What about you?"

I returned her smile. "I'm pretty sure I do, too." I said, again, only speaking in half-truths. I knew I did feel the same say about her that much was true. But it wasn't just that; everything about Shimako was what I had remember her for, and more. In just three short days, she had appeared back in my life and torn down all the walls I had built up in her absence to protect myself from the hole she left my with. She had reappeared, all secrete smiles and small touches, setting my blood boiling and my belly a churning mass of hormones and desire.

It was frustrating, how much I was afraid of it, and how much I had welcomed it.

"Wow." My friend breathed, stepping back with wide eyes. "Damn."

My blush grew as I bit my lip. I nodded, "So, yea."

"Are you, um, are you seeing her again?"

"Tonight."

"Fuck." Megumi said, running her hand through her hair. "Okay. Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to start the coffee and then we're going to sit down and make you presentable. Then you're going to work a half-shift. And – no!" She held up a hand up to stall my argument. "Before you say no, I am not giving you a choice. I can see how important this is to you, and you need this. You'll work a half-shift, then go home, rest a little and ready for her." Megumi took a breath and cracked a grin. "You can pay me back by giving me all the details later.

Rolling my eyes and unable to keep the smile from my lips, I laughed. "You really want to hear details? What if… you know… happens?"

The woman had the gall to smirk. "Aside from the fact that you seem to be counting your chickens before they hatch…" She shrugged. "Sex is sex. I may not be gay, but I'm still a girl. I love sexy gossip and sordid details as much as the next one. And I gotta tell you this whole thing with the and her—" She waved her hand in a vague gesture. "It's tasty."

"Whatever." I said, but my blush remained. I shuffled my feet for a few moments before muttering, "A three-quarter shift."

Megimi laughed, saying something about how there wasn't such thing as a three-quarter shift, but agreed, throwing her arm over my shoulders and leading me out into the main room, the smell of coffee and tea already filling my nostrils, even before we even turned on the machine.

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I had promised Megumi that I would leave early and go home to rest – to calm down and do something to occupy my mind until the supposed end of my shift, when Shimako would pick me up. The problem was I had absolutely nothing to do at home. Everything – from the wall clock ticking away the seconds to the kettle boiling on the stove – reminded me of what would 'possibly' be happening that night, and that I has not ready in the slightest. It would have almost been better for me to stay at work just to occupy myself with preparing tea and coffee for hipsters and horny college kids; at least them I knew how to handle.

But Shimako? I had no idea how to handle her.

She was so… different than she was in school. Certain aspects of her were similar, of course. She still had the air about her, that cool, calm and self-assured presence. One that practically screamed 'serenity' at you from all angles, and that she always had an idea, a plan, and a goal in mind.

But where there was once the innocence and wide-eyed vulnerability from her teen years, was now something mature; something dark, sensual and experienced. She had always affected me in ways I could never quite understand when we were younger, her silvery eyes and placid expression filling me with odd thoughts and feelings, building up in me until that day neither she or I could stand it anymore, and finally erupted into a few moments of desperate passion.

I still thought back to that night, even years later. Neither of us really expected it to happen. We had coincidentally met at the same restaurant with our families on the same night, and after the initial awkwardness of meeting each other's parents wore off, we had begged off for a short restroom break.

To this day, I can still remember how I felt, as though it were a particularly vided dream, when Shimako had stepped into my personal space like she had always belonged, winding her arms around me, her fingers threading themselves in my hair as she kissed me. It had been so surprising, her suddenly coming onto me, that it had taken me several seconds of shocked disbelief – and fervent hope – to realize that this was happening, that Shimako had actually kissed me. More than that, she was holding me and sighing my name against the shell of my ear, making my hair stand on end and my toes curl in my shoes.

It didn't take me much longer to respond to her advances, returning her kisses and moving down the slender angle of her jaw with small fluttery kisses nibbles and sucks, delighting in the way she gasped and sighed as I moved. It was all so new, so intense and arousing, that I couldn't help myself from taking everything Shimako had to offer, and giving all I could in return. Gasps and sighs turned into whimpers and mewls, hands wandered and found bare skin, fingers slid along the indentations of our ribs and nails skated across our bellies.

By the time I felt Shimako's hand snake under the waistband of my jeans, I was so worked up I couldn't do anything except undo my belt with trembling hands and fumble with the zipper, throwing my head back as her fingers slipped inside of me with all the experience of another sixteen year old virgin. It should have been uncomfortable, her fingers poking and prodding, curling around inside me not unlike I did occasionally to myself, but with her lips against my ear and her breath ghosting across my skin I hardly cared. My whimpers grew more frequent and intense the closer Shimako brought me to climax, and with a shudder and a whine I came into her hand, my nails digging into her shoulder and waist as I felt myself come undone, dying a little inside only be reborn as a new, different Yumi. One that belonged to Shimako as well as herself.

It was all I could do to collect myself in the girl's arms while still retaining my dignity. But Shimako was there for me, helping me to my feet and washing up alongside me. We returned to our families, but not before sharing a quick, chaste kiss before leaving the bathroom, promising to talk about this – us – when we got to school the next day.

But we never did. Whether it was because she was embarrassed, or I was embarrassed, I was never quite sure. The day passed with neither she nor I approaching the other, unwilling to break the tentative silence that had fallen around us like a shroud. The day ended with me going home, more confused than upset, wondering what kind of relationship the two of us had together.

The days turned into weeks, and months passed with nothing really changing, and eventually I had all but forgotten that moment we shared occurred, if it weren't for the phantom sensations I felt across my lips, the scent of her hair lingering in my nose, her whisper in my ear. It had happened, I knew it had, and so did she if her furtive looks I caught from across the room were of any evidence. But I never really knew why nothing had come from that. Even years later with me waffling around, looking for my lot in life.

And now I knew, from Shimako's own lips, that she had still felt that way about me, and that our mutual attraction hadn't dissipated – if anything, it had grown even stronger in the years since we were children – and she wanted me.

Shimako wanted me. I was not so naïve as to assume what Shimako wanted from me was anything less than platonic. Our history, and our sudden new relationship – odd though it was, now that I considered it – was evidence enough to prove that.

And I wanted her.

Oh, did I want her.

"Fuck…" I groaned, fisting my hands into my eyes as I sat on my couch. There was no use denying the truth. I was an adult and could admit it, I wanted to have sex with Shimako. I had had sex before, of course, and I wasn't the skittish, unsure girl I used to be. I knew enough to recognize what I was feeling wasn't anything less that sexual attraction.

But still, something about Shimako threw me off; turning me back into the stuttering mess I had been before. She could turn me into a puddle with a single glance, reaching around me with her fingers and unzipping my skin from my body like an overcoat, shedding away all my armor and my smiles that I built up since I found myself alone without her, leaving me with just me and her, nothing between us.

She could disarm me, leave me with no words of defenses whatsoever. Any other time, I would have hated that, I would have fought against it, saying 'No! I can't be left like that anymore. I refuse to be so defenseless again, only to have you leave like before!' But I couldn't – wouldn't.

The fact that she and I danced around each other as kids was just another complication, one that apparently continued to happen without me realizing it. Shimako had noticed, of course, just as I did. She rarely missed a thing, that girl. The fact that she remembered everything so vividly was just proof of how much she really cared – or at least how much she still did – and simply added to the fact that the two of us, no matter how much time had passed, were drawn to each other like gravity.

And now she was meeting me again. I had seen what she had to offer, and not turned away in disgust. I had heard what she had to say, and not scoffed in indifference. I had touched her, and not been burned by her hand.

I wanted her, still, even after all these years.

Our dance had not finished.

Licking my lips and standing up, I inhaled softly, nodding to myself. "Okay. Okay, Yumi. You got this."

I exhaled in a long breath, and walked into the bedroom with a shaky, nervous smile.

I had another date to prepare for.

Two dates in just as many days, I realized. She was spoiling me.

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End of Part 6

A/N: Woo! Bet you thought I dropped off the face of the Earth, huh? Nooooo not quite :D Just haunting two fandoms now! Just one chapter left~ Look forward to it!

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