A Working Model
Ryo Angel
PG-13

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She was there at 10:30, once again standing in front of the stony apartment, her eyes taking in the details that she had missed the day before. Gargoyles were perched atop the edges, there were thirteen floors (fourteen if you counted the ground floor), and a majestic oak door that looked like it had been vandalized one too many times. Who would want to live here?

She would.

It certainly was better than the dump she was currently residing, and that's saying something. A small bedroom that leads to the living room and a sorry excuse for a kitchen was what she called home. "Better a tin roof than cardboard one," she muttered to herself as she entered and headed straight for the stairs, noting in disgust that the elevator still hadn't been fixed and, judging by the discoloration of the sign, it had been broken for quite a while.

Finally, she stood in front of his door and glanced at her watch. Black and plain, it spoke nothing about her personality. Just the way she liked it. She was about to reach out and knock on the door when it was jerked open. Brown eyes meet blue and a slow burning blush spread across Serena's face when she realized that the Adonis standing in front of her was very much naked.

"Hi!" he greeted her merrily, "Come on in, Mamoru's in the shower."

She followed him in slowly; a blank look on her face and a slight pink tinged her cheeks, the only remnant of her blush. Serena carefully averted her eyes from him while he wandered towards the kitchen area, casually giving her a view of his gorgeous back. His muscles rippled as he stretched. Her eyes traveled down his shoulder blades to the small of his back. She quickly averted her eyes before they landed anywhere else on his body. Studying the large studio, she observed the bland colors and porcelain colored tiles on the counters and blinked when she saw the mountain of cookware as well as plates and bowls that covered the large sink.

She ran her fingers along the smooth surface, noting the fine grains as sawdust and looked up just as Mamoru came out of the shower, the steam from his shower following him. She blinked a couple of times when she saw his naked chest and let out a small sigh. 'At least he's not completely nude,' she argued.

Serena felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see that the Adonis had put on his clothing along with a cheerful smile that draped across his lips

"I'm Andrew Anderson," he said as he stuck out his hand and continued,. "one of Mamoru's models, and you are?"

'Model?' Serena thought as she shook his hand. 'What happened to not waking up until after 10?' Her hand was still in his when she realized that he was waiting for an answer.

"Serena Tsukino." She withdrew her hand awkwardly and gestured. "Another one of Mamoru's models."

"Oooh, Tsukino.." He frowned in concentration. "Isn't that Japanese, Mamoru?"

Serena turned to look as the stony artist as he nodded curtly in reply; his eyebrows drew together in a tight frown.

"It means moon. Calmness of the moon," he added thoughtfully.

"Actually, it's Serena Usagi Tsukino," Serena winced inwardly as she blurted it out. Mamoru was toweling off his hair when he stopped in mid-ruffle, his frown deepening.

"Awww, isn't that just cute?" Andrew squealed.

Both Serena and Mamoru grimaced.

"Anyhoo, I have to rush, I'll see you later Mamoru," he called out in a sing-song voice accompanied with a wink. Serena watched him, wondering what their real relationship was. 'This is so awkward,' she thought to herself as she turned to face her employer.

His dark blue eyes swept over her form from top to bottom, but Serena felt no sexual insinuations from that look. She could see that he was mentally undressing her, but it only made her self-conscious, not offended or annoyed.

"What?" she finally asked when all he did was stand there. "Do you want to get started or something?"

"Food's on the stove," he said, turning his back to her. "I'm going to get dressed."

She blinked a few times to reorient herself and then trotted over to the stove where a small saucepan was set to simmer. Sniffing the air gingerly, her mouth started to water as her senses were assaulted with the heavenly smells of miso soup. Her eyes searched for a bowl and ladle and they lit up when they found their target.

"Mmmm." She smiled as she helped herself to a generous portion. She was still eating, a dreamy smile on her face, when Mamoru came out, dressed in a black turtleneck and grey slacks. He looked at her and frowned slightly.

"You're Japanese?"

Serena broke from her trance and shifted from one foot to the other. "Half. I take after my mom... she's white."

Mamoru nodded and answered, "I see." He opened a closet door and pulled out a white canvas and asked, "What are your measurements?"

Serena stared at him. "Why do you want my measurements?"

"For clothing," Mamoru replied as he fetched himself a bowl of soup and opened up a cabinet door. Pulling out a packet of seaweed, he tossed one to Serena, noting that she caught it in her left hand. She glanced at the packet and then looked up at Mamoru.

"What kind of clothing?" Her foot shifted over slightly and she stopped eating. 25 dollars an hour was not exactly the going rate. Not that she knew what the going rate was, but she might have stumbled upon a sex freak. She shuddered at the thought.

Mamoru took in her position and grumbled, "You're a model. I'm an artist. You wear what I tell you to wear, sit when I tell you to sit, stand when I tell you to stand - "

"Gee, do you also dictate when I eat, sleep and poop?" Serena interrupted in a mocking drawl.

Mamoru narrowed his eyes. "If need be. You're my employee. If you want this job, you better do it right."

"So I act the part of a willing girlfriend and everything's peachy, eh?"

Mamoru took a deep sweeping look at her from head to toe and snorted, "Believe me when I say I'm not interested in your type."

Confirmation of his preference caused Serena's eyes to widen a fraction and she nodded quickly. "Okay," she paused, and then added, "I keep the clothes."

Mamoru shrugged. "If you want."

His casual manner quickly brought back her former thought, "What kind of clothes?"

Mamoru let out a frustrated sigh. "Just clothing. No lingerie"

Serena nodded thoughtfully and they finished their lunch in silence, one contemplating the type of clothing she would wear, the other wondering when he was going to get started.

"So..." they both began. Mamoru continued on with Serena gestured for him to finish.

"Let's talk about times and places. Do you drive?"

"Why?"

"Do you always ask this many questions?" Mamoru growled.

"Do you always growl at people?"

Mamoru was very close to telling her that she was fired when she turned away from him and looked out the window. Her expression changed entirely. "That's beautiful." She breathed.

Her blond hair was half down this morning in miniature braids, the other half was looped up in a small bun and her bangs covered most of her face. But her eyes were shown; soft, clear and mesmerizing. Mamoru's hands itched for a pencil and pad if only to capture that look in her eyes at that particular moment.

"It reminds me of home." It came out as a breathy whisper that told Mamoru just how much home had meant for her.

He turned towards the window as well at that point, knowing that she was the one model who would serve for his ideas. Painted on the window was a huge cherry blossom orchard just as they were moving out of the season. Pink and white petals glided down from their branches, covering the windows in a cherry blossom storm.

It also reminded Mamoru of home. A home he wished for. A home that he had left behind.

His eyes softened and Serena happened to glance over at the moment, a small smile on her face and decided to give him an easier time.

"I don't have a car, but I can get to most places easily."

The expression on her face then was even more beautiful. There was something in those cerulean eyes of hers that made him think of home. All he did was nod.

"We start now. Go do the dishes."

Serena frowned. "Do you want a maid or a model?"

Mamoru looked at her. The sun was just setting, its rays encasing her in a golden hue. She looked like an angel fallen to earth to torment him.

"Does it matter? Either way you get paid."

"Fine." She pushed her sleeves up, showing once again the intricate patterns that were carved onto her skin. Muttering under her breath at his lack of housework dedication, she tackled the pile of dishware with a vengeance. Just wait until her hand is better.

Meanwhile, Mamoru had grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper, sketching for all he was worth. The image of her staring out the window was etched onto his mind, but when it came time to detail in her eyes, he faltered. How to do it? There was sadness in those eyes, but with sadness there was also anger. How did one go about drawing both?

He turned to look at her, elbow deep in water and soap. His eyes drifted down her slender figure, frowning when he saw the scars. He could tell they were made in pain. But there was a beauty within them, a haunting beauty. That's what she is.

"Do you need a ride home?"

They both froze at his words. Why did he ask?

"No," she replied after a few seconds and finished the last of the dishes. "I'm fine." She wiped her hands dried and turned towards him, "I left them out to dry, didn't know where you wanted me to put them."

"It's fine." He handed her an envelope. "Here's today's pay and the location of where to meet me next Saturday. Call me if you're lost." No further words were exchanged and Serena didn't wait for another dismissal.

She waited until she was out of his apartment before opening it and smiled as she saw the fifty. She spent two hours doing dishes and talking, but this was enough for a month's worth of groceries as well as her phone bill. Humming a sad little tune, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Seiya? I'm ready."

----

Mamoru looked out his window and saw a silver Audi pulling up to where Serena stood. He watched her get in and the car drive away. He took another sip of his coffee and turned away expressionless. Picking up his drawing pad, he flipped the page and started sketching; a sweet picture of a little girl. The edges were blurred just like his memory of her was. She had left him when he was eight. Taken with her was his heart and his promise of marriage. That promise and the rose that she offered him the first day they met was clear. It was an innocent white color, the edges tinged with pink.

Running a finger down her jaw line, he tore the sketch out and walked to his room. He pulled out an album from his bookshelf and carefully inserted this newest sketch in. Flipping to the first page, he touched his fingers to the dried rose petals that were pressed in and studied the first drawing she gave him. It was an elementary drawing of two little kids hand in hand. Black strings of hair on both their heads, the sun smiling down at them. To him, it was beautiful.

It was home.

A/N: A bit more interaction between the two. In the next chapter, we will follow Serena in a day of her life. I do love reviews! Keep them coming!

Thanks: lilaznbunny, ChieriAn9el, moonie, twinkle-eyes, Naa-chan, Eudora.

Edit: 01/05/07 - Thanks to Arielle for editing!