A/N: At last I've completed this chapter! Woot, woot! It's so good to be back and I intend to stay, for good this time. Enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha; never have, never will. But please, indulge in this crack pairing I saw fit to contrive.

Chapter 6: Equilibrium

I woke up, bleary-eyed, to a semi-lit room with unfamiliar furnishings, and attempted to wrack my brain for clues as to where I was and how I had ended up there. I blinked several times, eyes heavy and maybe a little crusted at the ends, before shifting to look at the alarm clock at my bedside. It read 7 AM, which was hardly a reasonable hour to be awake. My body, heavy with the languor of missed hours of sleep, urged me back underneath the covers. I closed my eyes for less than a second, before I bolted upright, clutching the comforter to my chest.

Memories of the night before came flooding back as I stared blankly at the wall in front of me. Every caress, heated word, and the like, filled my body with an intense heat, and immediately my core began to ache in conviction for having ignored its needs. My eyes shot to the bed parallel to mine, but Menomeru was not there. They darted all about the remainder of the room, but there appeared to be no sign of him. I was just coaxing one bare leg from beneath the layer of sheet and blanket when he walked in through the room's door.

I sat there staring, leg suspended alongside the bed, throat dry, mind racing, pulse slowly gathering speed. I wanted him, with every fiber of my being. I licked my dry lips in welcome, and he crossed to me without a word. My breath, high in my throat, left me on a sharp exhale when he settled in front of me on my bed. Instinctively I dropped the blanket I had been holding so tightly to my chest, shifting closer to meet his reaching hands. When they met my sides through my flimsy t-shirt, I emitted a sound halfway between a sob and a moan. I felt complete now that his hands were on my body, yet still unfulfilled.

I arched into his touch, urging him into action, but he seemed content with just holding me. I gathered my weight onto my knees, and shuffled closer, my breasts only inches from his face. He looked from my heaving chest to my face, then back again, and I grew impatient with his hesitation, so I kissed him. I kissed him hard, at first just wanting to feel his lips on mine, but then with a tilt of my head, and a sigh that left my mouth agape, it became something more. His hands caressed my sides just as his tongue thrust into my mouth with a surety that had my core stirring with a boiling heat, and pounding with a swollen ache that drove me mad.

He broke the kiss after a while, drawing back to look at me. Then his hands started inching my t-shirt up past my navel to just beneath the curves of my breasts, protected by the fabric of my bra. He toyed with the underwire, watching my face for reactions, seemingly enjoying my torment. I was neither amused nor satisfied, and so I arched my back as far as it would go, forcing his hands squarely over the center of my breasts, so that the open palms of his hands brushed along my hardened peaks.

Still he does nothing.

My mind is racing with all the things he could be doing, but chooses not to, and this infuriates me to no end. I let out an irritated growl, before finally taking matters into my own hands. My hands set to work on my t-shirt, lifting it over my body until it rests on my shoulders, then I bend my arms backward, seeking the triple bra clasp that binds the black swatch of interfering fabric across my breasts, making quick work of it. To prolong the moment of my body's reveal, I lift my shirt from shoulders. Just as I'm ready to toss it over my head in abandon, and finally tear away my bra, Menomeru invoked a spell that bound both my wrists together above my head.

I make a noise of protest that quickly dies away forgotten, and cold, as a rush of warmth fills me at Menomeru's touch. He cups my breasts in his hands gingerly, shifting my dangling bra upward, just not enough to fully reveal my bare flesh to him. Yanking sharply on the underwire of my bra, the straps dig into my flesh before snapping and falling away. Menomeru holds the two breast cups in his hands before chucking them behind his shoulder to land somewhere on the carpet. If I weren't so dizzy with longing, I might have protested against the savagery of the gesture, against the pain he caused, but as it was, I couldn't think straight enough to form any semblance of a sentence.

All I knew in that moment was Menomeru's touch. Pressing a hand to my abdomen, he lowered me to the bed. I stretched out my legs to be more comfortable and eliminate the strain to my knees being bent at such an unnatural angle, and waited.

And waited. And waited some more, body all suppressed tension.

I arched upward in invitation, and finally Menomeru's bare hands descend on my breasts. He teased them at first, flicking my hardened peaks, rolling them in the palms of his deft hands, and cupping them to deepen my cleavage. I sigh, and moan in response, and he drinks it all in, eyes darker than I'd ever seen them. He seemed mesmerized by the display, fully enjoying the pleasure his touch brought me. But I wanted more.

Lifting my legs, I locked them behind his back, and forced him closer, so that his breath ghosted between the valley of my breasts. I dropped my legs so that they were tented at his sides when I was sure he would stay in place, positive that he would get the idea of what I wanted from him. He shot me a dark look that acknowledged my desire, and at the same time, fanned the flames of anticipation of his touch that much higher. He drew in close to my right breast, sending hot puffs of breath against my nipples that had my toes curling, and my body tightening down below.

Another heated look and his mouth was on me, tasting me with the fervor of a starving man. Teeth tugged and tongue soothed, leaving me breathless and shaking with desire to experience more. After thoroughly ravaging my breasts, Menomeru moved downward, his mouth blazing a trail of liquid heat down to my drenched core, making me clench with suppressed longing. His hands traced down from my sides, before curling possessively around my hips, toying idly with the edges of my black panties. He looked up at me with a dark smirk that revealed to me the naughty things he was contemplating; this made my entire body throb.

I wanted everything that look promised and more. I thrust upward in impatience, which bumped my clit against his mouth, the brief touch sending a jolt of spine-tingling pleasure through me. I couldn't help it, I cried out, partly in frustration, and partly in relief. I knew if he didn't touch me now, I'd go completely insane with lust. Thankfully, I was saved from the embarrassment of such a complete and utter meltdown when Menomeru brushed a thumb against my engorged nub, sending another paralyzing thrill of euphoria through me.

"Such a naughty girl . . ."

His thumb trailed down my slit through my panties, no doubt feeling for the evidence of my desire. He spread my thighs apart in a sharp movement shocking me with the amount of controlled strength that one gesture exuded. From his eyes alone, I could tell he was losing whatever grip he had on his self-control. What must I do to unravel it so that he was consumed by his desire for me, and what could make that happen even faster? I was pulled away from my thoughts by the sensation of his breath against the tender flesh of my inner thighs.

How could he be so close, and yet so far? I bucked upward again, hoping to spur him into action, but he avoided contact with me easily. A noise that might have been a growl escaped me, and I thrust out my lower lip in a pout, while at the same time trying to free my wrists from his spell so that I could force him to me if need be. He laughed, and I frowned, not at all liking that he found my sexual frustration amusing. I'd find a way to pay him back in due time.

"You're so sexy when you're driven mad for me," he said.

He leaned over me, cupping my cheek gently, locking his dark gaze with mine. I was so mesmerized by them that I could scarcely focus on anything else, that is, until his fingers bypassed the protective barrier of my panties, and found my wet heat. His lips crashed on mine, just as I began to thrash and cry out his name. He took each moan into his mouth, his tongue swirling about mine as though tasting the massless sounds. It made me hotter for him, this mating of lips and tongue while he drove me to a great distraction with the expert thrust and curl of his fingers.

I locked my thighs around him, admitting him deeper, and finally he let loose. He wrenched his mouth from mine, growling in want, and I lay there chest heaving, face flushed, body tingling with little jolts of electricity, as he continued to work me closer to my climax from the inside. He withdrew his fingers after a moment, and worked his way down my body, hands following along my sides until they were hooked in the waistband of my panties on each side. With a subtle tug, they fell away, and he crumpled them in a fist before tossing them away.

Anything I had intended to say about the defacement of my clothing died in my throat, and was replaced by a deep moan that shook me to the core. His mouth was at my clit, his fingers continuing their torturous assault, thrusting forward to hit a place that made my legs go numb. My body thrummed with the words of appreciation he groaned against my clit, and I rocked into each surge of his fingers, seeking more pleasure, more of him.

His control snapped completely when I bucked upward, somewhat harder than intended so that his tongue met another part of me I was dying for him to explore. My shirt slackened above me, and I plunged my fingers into his hair, gripping him to me as his tongue traveled lower. With his mouth on me at a new angle, tongue delving where his wicked appendages had, I let go, my body limp and sated on the crumpled bed sheets.

For a while I just laid there, eyes closed, feeling light, and completely devoid of any desire to move; it took almost every ounce of nearly depleted energy I had just to turn my head to look at the clock. It read 7:45; I had to be at work in 45 minutes. Even with this knowledge I still found myself hesitant to move; my legs just wouldn't cooperate. With a sigh I turned my head back to Menomeru. He had been kneeling between my thighs, looming like a shadow. If it weren't for the fact that his hair was mussed up from my grabby fingers, and his clothes slightly wrinkled, he would've looked dressed to go out. I envied him.

Just thinking about rolling out of this bed to make myself decent sounded like a chore. Maybe I'd just lay here and rest a little longer . . . I turned on my side, fully intending to do just that, but was denied the comfort of a few extra minutes of sleep when Menomeru lifted me into his arms.

"Where are you taking me," I asked behind a yawn, swatting at him half-heartedly.

"To the bathroom. You have to go to work, remember?"

Yeah, I remembered, alright, I just wish I was capable of forgetting. I sighed, nodded, before burying my face against his neck.

"Wake me when we get there," I said, eyes drifting closed.

A moment later, "We're here . . ."

I groaned, bringing a palm to my forehead. I let out a huff of breath, clamoring out his arms and onto my feet. I'm a little wobbly, and he reached out to steady me, but I batted his hands away with an abrupt wave of my hand.

"Are you sure you'll be alright in there?"

"I'm fine," I said as I stumbled my way over the threshold.

"Are you sure? Because, I'd be happy to assist you in all things wet and naked."

"Ha, ha . . . no thanks. If I left it up to you, I'd never get to work."

He shot me a smug smile, eyes traveling the length of my body. "Would that necessarily be a bad thing?"

Hell yes, I wanted to scream, but I knew I would be lying. And if the fine shiver running through my body was any indication, I believed it wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. It would be a very, very good thing. I shook my head and reached to close the door, but he stopped me with an arm propped against it.

"Since you won the bet, I'd like to take you to dinner tonight. What do you say?"

"I say, 'Don't I get to choose my prize?'"

"Yes, and I will grant you whatever you want after dinner. Sound fair?"

I chewed it over for half a second. "Fair enough. But I get to choose the place."

"Deal," he said, and leaned away from the door so I could close it.

My back fell against it, and my legs shook as I realized what had just happened. I'd just agreed to a date with Menomeru . . . I groaned, halfway between excited and anxious. I could see all the reasons why it was wrong, and at the same time couldn't help entertaining all the reasons why it was right. After all, it was just one date, and it couldn't hurt. Could it? I shoved that thought aside and climbed into the shower. There was no time to ruminate over the ramifications of one date with Menomeru when I had to be at work in less than an hour. I'd deal with the consequences if and when they arose. I was fiercely hoping they wouldn't.

Ten minutes later, I was out of the shower, and draped in an oversized towel. Menomeru was nowhere to be found, much to my relief, and I was able to dress in peace. By the time I finished, Menomeru returned to the room with a tray of food in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other. I shot him a look of gratitude, and scarfed down the banana and oatmeal, sipping the coffee so as to avoid a charred tongue. I gathered all of my things, placed my hand in his, and in the blink of an eye I was in the alley behind the hospital. We stood inches apart, my back to the brick wall, and my bag establishing an impromptu barrier between our bodies.

Even though the alley was wide, the space seemed to shrink into a world that consisted of only him and I. Nothing else existed in that moment except the two of us. I rocked onto my toes intending to kiss him, but stopped. I stood there, weight placed painfully on the balls of my feet. Things were awkward between us, at least to me it was. Even though we had shared a rather intimate moment, there was a shift in our relationship, and at the moment I couldn't quite lay a finger, or even a hand on it to analyze what it all meant.

So I stood there, awkwardly poised before him, my toes cramping with all of my weight thrown onto them. My head was tilted upward, my gaze locked on his lips. It became increasingly obvious that he had no intention of kissing me, and yet there I stood, thighs burning, ankles cramping, all for a taste of what I could not, and should not have. Several more uncomfortable pauses rolled by, and finally my body got the hint. My gaze lowered, as did my chin, just when the the painful truth had set in. He didn't want me the way I wished he would. The last caught me off guard for a moment.

Why in the world was I considering Menomeru as anything more than a manipulative bastard out to take control of Tokyo? And why on Earth did it matter to me how Menomeru felt for me? We were far from an item, even if some of the acts we indulged in screamed otherwise. I suppressed a growl of frustration and dropped my gaze lower so that I was glaring at the center of his chest.

I won't let me emotions get the better of me.

I slowly eased my heels back onto the solid concrete beneath my feet. I wasn't some lovesick fool that would, and could, fall for anyone that showed me even the slightest hint of interest. I crossed my arms at my abdomen, and steeled my resolve. It all melted into a puddle of goo the instant Menomeru cupped my jaw in a tender caress, before tilting my face upward to meet his. The meeting of our lips was gentle, yet insistent, lacking the fervor of the ones we'd shared prior. This kiss was made of softer stuff, melting me to my very core for a very different reason. It's wasn't primarily pure desire that sent my pulse racing, but a longing, one I had saw fit in the past to firmly ignore.

Every woman sought to be wanted by a man, and I was no exception. My mind spiraled into a flurry of thoughts that revolved around Luc, and how he had made me feel special, like I was the only woman for him. I'd forgotten how much I'd missed that since I closed my heart to love after his death. And now, with my lips locked to Menomeru's in a chaste embrace of flesh on flesh, I was reminded of what I had been missing out on for all those years.

He held me against him, his hands at my jaw and waist feather light against me, as though he feared I might shatter beneath his touch.

Maybe he had a soft spot for me after all, even if he didn't admit it in words. Perhaps, with time we could . . .

I quelled the start of that thought just as quickly as it tried to infiltrate and invade my mind, filling it with ideas I had no business entertaining. Sure it had been a long time since I'd allowed myself to be wrapped up in the tender touch of another man. In fact, I craved it like so much chocolate, unable to resist the rich temptation it offered. However, there was a danger in indulging in the Menomeru's ministrations. Such a path could only be wrought with betrayal and heartbreak, and I knew with certainty that my heart could not withstand yet another attack. I drew away with that thought, attempting to orient myself, and set my priorities in order.

If I wanted to avoid the possibility of pain, I couldn't allow one sweet kiss to sway me, to make me yield to Menomeru's charms. My pulse was gradually slowing down, my body recovering from the brief contact with his lips, when like a thunderbolt the deep and unavoidable longing to taste the nectar of being wanted returned.

Screw it. There was no way I could stand here and fight the emotions welling up inside me. If Menomeru intended to use me to further his ambitions, then so be it. I too would enjoy making use of his charms to satisfy the one weakness I would allow myself to admit to, if not openly, subliminally. As long as I was able to uphold the boundaries between us, and maintain a level of emotional detachment, all would be right with the world. He would relish in my submission to him, and I would bask in the afterglow of letting go, and allowing myself to relent.

He took a step back, which brought a rush of cool air to my face, but did nothing to soothe the flush painted from the base of my throat to the roots of my hair. Nor did it serve to clear the jumbled twist my thoughts had found themselves in. My mind was made, and perhaps it had been made for quite some time, I'd just spent much of the time denying it.

I wanted him with every fiber of my being, and I would have him, if only to satiate my desire to be wanted and heatedly caressed.

He turned without a word, and was only a few feet away from me before I drew him back to me by the arm, intent on kissing him breathless. I said nothing as each of my hands found the curves of his jaw, drawing him close until our labored breathes mingled in puffs of heated, wanton air. I stood there with his face in hyper focus for a moment, memorizing every feature.

And then I kissed him, full-on with no preamble.

I wanted to share with him without words all the tension and deep longing that had been building up inside me. Of course by approaching it this way, I avoided the hazard of outright rejection, messy emotional entanglements, and all things that made relationships infinitely complicated. I used an eager tongue to pry his mouth open, and then I was engulfed in a molten heat. I moaned my pleasure as my hands moved from his jaw to the nape of his neck, drawing him in for a better, more accessible, taste of him. Space between us dissolved when his hands found my lower back and brought us closer than I thought possible.

We were meshed as one, and even our clothes could not tame the fierce flame of desire building between us. They burned even higher the instant his warm palms found their way beneath my scrub top, working their way toward the underwire of my bra. I arched into his touch, wanting more than anything to feel his hands on my skin again. I could already feel my nipples hardening in anticipation of what was to come. And then the warmth receded once more as I found Menomeru a few feet away, breathing labored, eyes dark.

Those depths captured his intense desire for me, and his features reflected the internal struggle he faced in trying to keep it at bay. But I, of course, wanted nothing more than for him to release that carefully moderated control—to slip up—long enough for me to experience more of the pleasure he so easily gave.

Determined to have my way, I closed the distance between us again and went for his throat with soft, open-mouth kisses. His groans, strained and heated in my ear, spurred me on, and I continued with my ministrations, adding teeth to the mix. By now he was leaning into me, head tilted forward, and his hair acting as a privacy curtain that shielded me from view. Voice husky, he whispers something harsh and heated against my ear that I don't quite catch. Whatever it was made my whole body clench then release in a tingling rush of pleasure. I was certain whatever lewd promise he had made to me would be certain to please.

I was just about to transition from his throat to his collarbone when he used sheer force of will, and firm hands at my shoulder, to draw us apart once more. I stared at him with hooded lashes, admiring the angry red I had turned his pale flesh under the pressure of teeth, lips, and tongue. I know my urge to continue matches the inferno of longing crackling in his eyes and thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin. I make a move to advance once more, but he stopped me with a firm hand held out between us.

"You're . . . you're going to be . . . to be late—"

I cut him off with a soft nip at the hand between us. He shot me a pained look, eyes dropping to the level of my lips before travelling the length of my body, paying visual homage to my breasts and the apex of my thighs. I quirk my brow, cock my hip, and level him with a deadpan stare.

"And that would be a bad thing, because . . .?"

His gaze finds the enticing curve of my hip, before shooting back up to my face. A lesser man, with poor self-control, would have taken my actions as the invitation that it was, but Memnomeru was tougher to crack, and always developed an iron will to resist me at the worst of times. He needed a bit of coaxing, but I didn't mind in the least.

In a bold move on my part, I took his outstretched hand in mine and drew it toward my left breast, hoping it would stimulate him enough to make a move. The initial contact sent a pleasurable jolt of electricity through me, and I was terribly tempted to indulge in more. He snatched his hand back faster than I could process, and I stood there staring confusedly at the increased amount of space that had materialized between us. We locked gazes across this rift, and I felt myself fill with an urge to defy his need to put distance between us. I now saw this as a challenge, and I never backed down, even if the odds were against me.

Before I can contemplate making a calculated move toward him, he stopped me with his powers.

"Don't tempt me woman . . ." he said, half in warning and half in defeat.

He held me there for a moment longer, as though trying to avoid my inevitable pounce, and with a release of pressure I was free to move once more. I shrugged and patted my disheveled hair down, ensuring each strand was in place, before I shot him a smoldering look that dared him to loosen the reigns of his tight control and indulge in the pleasure we could create for each other.

"And what if I do?"

My eyes remained locked with his for a few moments before I heard him whisper across the edge of my mind.

I'm sure you'd like the outcome very much— as would I . . .

I started, half in surprise at his words, and half in response to the instantaneous spike of arousal that shot through me before settling with an agonizing ache in my core. Before I could follow up with an adequate retort or simply jump his bones like my entire body was screaming for me to do, his hands were at my back, steering me toward the back entrance of the hospital.

"Now get to work," he said with one final nudge at my back. "I'll pick you up in the parking lot at 5. See you then."

He leaned in for a chaste kiss that was originally meant for my lips, but he diverted to my cheek instead. In a blur of color he was gone, leaving me feeling drained with the amount of sexual tension building up inside me. If I was going to survive the day with some semblance of sanity, I'd have to ignore the roiling heat currently threatening to encompass my body. One thing was for certain, payback was in order—the excruciatingly teasing kind. And the wheels were already turning.

I took a deep breath of the recycled cool air inside the hospital in attempt to temper the warmth, and fought down any thoughts that so much as deviated from the work at hand. I smiled at passing coworkers, uttered pleasantries when prompted, and hurried along until I was at my desk. The instant I plopped down and settled into my work, I came to one horrifying realization: this was going to be a disgustingly long day, and no matter of busyness was going to make the time skate by any faster. I resisted the urge to put my head down in defeat and exhaustion from lack of a solid eight hours sleep. Before I knew it, the day would be over and I'd be whisked away from this place on a date with Menomeru. At least that's what I kept telling myself.

With only an hour to go, time seemed to stand still, and in this stagnant half reality I experienced an unsettling longing—a craving—for Menomeru's touch. I'd like to think I wasn't so desperate in love to feed off the depraved attentions of the master manipulator, but deep down I knew that I most certainly was. Anticipation of the night's events made the day agonizingly long, and much of that extended stretch of agony was spent daydreaming about the new form Menomeru was going to take tonight.

Would his hair be long or short? How would he dress? What mesmerizing color would he assume for the cover of his crimson eyes? These were all questions that flitted about in my mind, persistent pricks that constantly drew my attention away from whatever task I had set about completing. The fact did remain that no matter what form Menomeru saw fit to assume, I would still want him in every which way I could possibly have him, withou tangling and twisting myself up emotionally.

As I counted down the seconds, I pondered how everything would go tonight. It was odd to think of Menomeru and date in the same sentence, but the more I thought about it, and tossed about the idea in the forefront of my mind, the more it seemed to appear a natural course of action. After all, he already spent so much time trying to win me over the wrong way, why not shift gears. And sure it may have caught me off guard at first, but at some point during the day, I had come to terms with an inevitable truth: I wanted Menomeru to wine and dine me, despite his intentions.

This thought gave me pause. Did I not care that Menomeru declared to me that first night that he intended to use me to forward his ambitions as forcible ruler of Tokyo? Well, of course I did; after all that time in Feudal Japan thwarting Naraku's evil plots, playing hero in everyday life had somehow rubbed off on me. Yet, Menomeru's actions as of late spoke of a change in our relationship, and perhaps in his purpose for pursuing me with such avid interest. If he wanted to, he could have snatched away all shreds of my free will, and played me like a puppet on strings, yet, he did not. If he truly meant to use me, why hadn't he done so already? This question stuck with me, and made me question his true intentions.

Perhaps I was wrong to judge him and there was more to his supposed reason for being here than I could possibly fathom. I'd bring it up later; it was a question definitely worth exploring. With this potential good side to Menomeru on the table, I had to be especially careful not to grow too attached. Magic words: emotional detachment. I couldn't get too close, nor could I allow him in, not if things turned ugly, and if what I thought were redeeming qualities, turned out to be lies. I would hope that the softer side of Menomeru was not just another fabrication meant to lure me into a false sense of security, enough to coerce me into letting my guard down. That would surely be disastrous.

I allowed my mind to drift away from such thoughts, and onto what I might wear tonight. I don't know why, but a part of me wanted to look especially nice for him, and nothing depicted in my mental closet at home fit the bill. I wanted something elegant, classy even, with a twist, something that would make his jaw drop to the floor. And of course, I'd need some killer heels to complete the outfit; once again my sparsely stocked closet fell short of my vision. I don't know why it mattered what I wore after all, Menomeru, had already seem me naked on more than one occasion. Why should he care what I wore tonight, when he was already privy to the whole package?

Still, I couldn't shake this girlish desire to dress up for a date. I chalked this urge up to it being almost three years since I'd been asked out on a formal date; sad, but true. During a bit of down time at the desk, I took it upon myself to research a few dresses online to breathe life into the complex ideas I had forming in my head. There was no harm in looking. After only ten minutes of searching, I found that the dress I had been dreaming of was simply that—a dream. It didn't exist out there like I was hoping it would, and that put a serious damper on my mood.

I tried not to let it get to me though, since it wasn't like I was going to have time to drive to the nearest dress shop, and peruse their merchandise at my leisure until I found something. Menomeru was picking up straight from here, so whatever I could find in my closet would have to do. I sighed and focused my gaze on the bottom right hand corner of my computer screen. Only fifteen more minutes to go. If only there was a way to make the minutes pass by just a little faster. Staring at the time was certainly of no help, so I had to find something—anything—to detract my thoughts from the slow passage of time.

I took a quick a look around, and my eyes locked on a stack of patient files waiting to be filed. Guess there was no time like the present to devote some time to the menial tasks I had put off until now; at this point, I was desperate enough to do anything it took to make the hands on the watch strapped to my wrist rotate a little faster. Filing only shaved off three minutes of time, and so I looked to other things I could do. I straightened up my desk: four minutes; I dumped out my trash: one minute; I checked my email: three minutes; I emptied the recycling bin on my desktop and even rearranged the icons there: two minutes. With five minutes left on the clock, I was dancing in my seat, halfway between excited and nervous.

I was utterly afraid I would make a fool of myself, or worse grow too attached, and end up hurt in the end. I thrust those thoughts away just as the clock struck five, and I was down the hall and out the exit faster than I could process. Since I didn't have my car with me—thanks to a certain moth demon teleporting me here—I had no choice but to wait for him to show up. To avoid the risk of being seen by one of my coworkers as Menomeru whisked me away, I returned to the alley he had left me all hot and bother in.

A quick survey of my watch told me it was ten minutes after five; he was late. I frowned, and leaned heavily against the brick wall, trying not to let my anxiety get the better of me. My mind was on another wardrobe trip, when I grew impatient, and marched to the entrance of the alley, intent upon seeking Menomeru out.

I stopped for only a second, and suddenly a pair of hands were at my upper arms, grip firm. I would've screamed, but one of those hands went to my mouth to stifle any sound I might have made. I intended to around to face my captor, but just as the thought had crossed my mind, the alley spun away, and my surroundings were eaten away by darkness.

A/N: Whew! That's it! Hope you all enjoyed this update! This week I'm working on rebooting this whole story as a means of injecting a plot, and maybe inserting some more characters. I currently have most of chapter 1 planned out, so with any luck, you'll have a first update up by this Sunday. Thank you all for your patience and belief that (eventually) I would update this story. Remember your reviews are always welcome and well received.

Silver Moon Vampiress

FYI: I've started a rewrite of this story. It's called Searching for Love, Sleeping with Danger. Please check it out and let me know what you think.

Silver Moon Vampiress