Well I managed not to make you guys wait too long for this :D (is such a proud camper)

Now it's serious plug time, though, because I've finally got the first chapter of my new Natsume/Mikan (eventually, though don't count on it being smooth sailing all the way :P) fic, now offically called Arrhythmia (which is when your heartbeat is too fast/slow/skips beats).

I put a whole lot of work into this, so pleaaaase would all my readership do me the honor of going and checking it out :)

Thankyou? (on my profile, 'Arrhythmia' and it'll be either 1st or 2nd slot)

Anyway, here's part two of Natsume sensei!

Professor Natsume Hyuga lived to regret his ill-thought out words to Mikan Sakura a whole week before his birthday.

But only just.

The entire day had been a pain from the get-go, starting with the 'surprise birthday party' thrown by his form (organized by none other than Mikan Sakura), which ruined his desk, homeroom (emulsion paint is not the best decoration material) and lesson plans.

This continued as it appeared that every single one of his classes knew that he was turning twenty-nine, so he had to put up with far too many 'nearly 30' jokes than he cared to hear, received five bottles of whiskey, two vinyl records (he didn't have a record player, he wasn't that old), somewhere near thirty ties and two bowties (he had never worn a bowtie in his life) and a mountain of birthday cards with terrible jokes or happy kittens on them.

Sometimes both.

Needless to say, he informed Sakura-chan that she would be seeing him after class that day, and although she'd protested that 'it was his birthday' and so he should go out partying instead of staying behind school with boring old her, he was not to be swayed.

He added that she still hadn't given him her 'present' yet, and added that he hoped her English would be a little better this time around.

Unfortunately, she'd only nodded and given him a cheeky smile that told him he was not going to end up on the victorious side of this arrangement.

"At last, Sakura-chan." He sighed later that afternoon, and shrugged off his suit jacket and folded it over the back of his chair as she strolled through the door (late) and pulled it closed behind her.

"I was getting a surpri…" she began cheerfully, then cut herself off with a giggle and sweetly told him "nothing, sensei." He sighed and prayed there was an essay in that sheep-shaped backpack of hers.

"Well, Sakura-chan." He said as enthusiastically as he could manage with his current levels of fatigue and 'I just want to go home and pretend this day never happened' "you promised me an essay." She grinned that sly grin again and slipped her back and jacket off, highlighting to Natsume that she had at least one too many of her shirt buttons undone right now.

If he couldn't help staring down her shirt as she leant over to drop her bag on the floor, he reasoned edgily, then what chance did hormone-driven teenage boys stand?

"I promised you a present that wouldn't cost any rabbits," she reminded him brightly as she snapped upright and pouted her pink lips.

"I think I specified an essay, Mi-…Sakura-chan," he replied, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar: it was far too warm in this room for November.

"Mhm," Mikan murmured in reply and stepped forwards with her hands behind her back, "so I'll give it to you, but only if you close your eyes."

Now if he was the normal, sensible, composed man he was usually, when he hadn't endured a whole day of his birthday, he would've denied her this game right away. Instead, he was too tired to argue, and let his eyes slide shut gratefully.

What happened next, however, was something that in retrospect he should've seen coming from the moment she started winking at him and wearing her nicest clothes on school trips he was supervising.

She leant across the desk and kissed him.

First of all he nearly fell off his chair backwards with how fast and strongly he'd recoiled, and she zipped back across the desk with an expression that got sadder and more confused as he stared at her with a misture of disbelief and horror.

"Sakura-" he stuttered, but she cut him off.

"Mikan! My name is Mikan, Natsume-sensei!" she said in a voice devoid of her usual cheer or addictive goodwill, "you call other girls by their first names, but never me," she looked down and his stomach sunk like he'd swallowed a lead weight at the sight of tears in her eyes.

"Do you… really actually hate me?" she whimpered, and Natsume very nearly let his face slide into his hands or simply onto the desk with a thunk.

"No, of course I don't…" she looked up at him through watery eyes and he let go of his tongue, "Mikan."

"Then…why…?" she asked meekly, now hopefully no longer in the territory of tears as he got up from his seat and walked around the desk to her, this was not the first time he had a student confessing to him, but this was definitely the closest one ever got.

And it had to be her as well. He needed to get this over with before the day could get any worse.

"Now, Mikan-chan," he said gingerly and laid a hand on her shoulder, lightly enough to hopefully not be read as anything more than comforting, "I'm sure you're feeling a lot of things now, but I want you to… uh, realize… there are some things which… don't, no, aren't… realistic…" he hated this sort of stuff, it was almost as bad as when co-workers tried to make a move on him.

"Realistic?" she echoed, and with a slight push he started walking her towards the door. "I… well…"

"Think about it, Mikan-chan," he told her, "I am, and have been, your teacher for over six years now… what you're feeling is…" she stopped abruptly and span around to face him, which he'd rather hoped she wouldn't do: this would be harder if he had to look her in the eye.

"Don't try to tell me what I'm feeling!" she cried, knocking his hand away with a fierce scowl, "don't you even try!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" he half-snapped, not realizing just what could become of those words.

"I'd like it if you locked that door and then fucked me on the desk." She replied without missing a single beat, and Natsume felt his heart crawl up into his mouth and flip around like a fish out of water, "but I'll try to be… realistic, about it."

He tried to reply, but before he got a chance there were lips over his own again, stopping him from speaking. That could've been worse, he thought half-heartedly as he raised his hands to push her away…

It was worse.

It turned out the kiss was what Mikan called an appropriate distraction for Professor Natsume as she dashed her hands to his belt and quickly undid it.

"Mikan!" He yelped upon realizing what her game was and started staggering away again, crashing into the back wall and hitting his head hard enough to know this wasn't one of those dreams he'd started having sometime around her fifteenth birthday, "you…!"

"Are just trying to give you a really good Birthday present, sensei," she damn well teased and crept forwards, "I knew you'd hate a tie or record or anything like that… and you did say I wouldn't have to spend any rabbits."

"This…" he chocked while flittering his eyes over to the door (and more specifically, the lock), "was not what I meant." He started forwards hurriedly and sidestepped around his terrifying teenage pursuer, "Mi…Sa…ka…look, I'm going to have to…" he muttered as his hand clasped the doorknob and from behind there came a cry of…

"Natsume!" she cried unhappily, and he closed both eyes and begged to the gods she didn't say his name like that again, then, as her footsteps tapped up lightly from behind tried desperately to stop his brain reminding him how long it'd been since a woman(/girl) had offered to do that to him.

He could hear her breathing not far behind him, and it was in that same breathy voice that whispered, "I-I'm sorry…I didn't mean for it to end like this…Natsume," resisting the urge to smash his head through the frosted glass window in the door, Natsume swore under his breath and told the perverted sisters of fate that was it… he was out.

There was a quiet click, which Mikan thought to be the sound of the doorknob turning.

But considering in the next minute she was very nearly lifted off her feet by strong ink-stained fingers on her shoulders and a hunched over neck pressing a mouth to hers with twice the intensity she had, that was somewhat unlikely.

She didn't really have time to think, more so time for her body to react before it was forced to do so, and her lips parted to allow access for the tongue of her teacher.

"This…Mikan…" he muttered as he firmly back-pedalled her across the room, "has been the worst birthday ever." When he next kissed her he could feel a frown on her lips, and overwrote it with a smile of his own as she bumped into the edge of his desk and could go no further.

He broke away from her and stared in full glory down the opening of her shirt, and barely hesitated as he raised a hand to squeeze one of those pert young mounds in his hand. Backing away again, he walked around and collapsed into his chair with a stretch, and shot her a stern 'come here' look.

"So you better be prepared to compensate me." He said smugly, unzipping his fly as his words sunk in, and the girl swayed over with a grin on her face like the cat that got the cream.

Aw gawd, I feel so wicked :P

Go check out my new Gakuen Alice fic now :P it's full of wholesome plot and style and my blood sweat and tears.

Once again, it's Arrhythmia, on my profile just below this story :D

Thaaaaankyouuuuuuuuu