Chapter Seventeen

Usagi could hardly believe what had just happened. Because even in her wildest imaginings, Chiba Mamoru would never have crashed a junior high dance and hauled her out over one shoulder kicking and screaming. Gods, she'd never met such an infuriating, pigheaded, selfish, egotistical….

"Penny for your thoughts?" His thick voice filled the small car cabin as if he were the only one there. Usagi struggled to regain the breath she'd lost when he'd thrown her into the passenger seat. Anger fizzled just beneath the surface of her skin as he shifted gears and guided the car through traffic. His eyes were trained on the road, demonically handsome profile highlighted by the quickly passing street lamps. She sucked in a final, calming breath. She loved him, yes, but that didn't mean she couldn't hate him too.

"Yeah, how about what the hell was that? I mean, you called me a barbarian for throwing a burger at you, but you don't see me going all Viking and kidnapping people!" Her voice was quickly reaching screeching altitude, which was not good in such a confined space. If nothing else at least she got to see him wince for her efforts. "Like a sack of potatoes, Chiba-san. I've never been so embarrassed…"

"Oh I'm sure you have, Odango-chan," he murmured, a slight hint of amusement lifting the corner of his mouth. Her eyes darkened painfully at the thought and she found herself breathing harshly against the constriction of her chest. The heavy weight of the car rocketed them through a turn. Part of her wanted him to get pulled over so she could rat him out to the cops and escape whatever he had planned. The image of guns and handcuffs brought only a mild thrill of elation.

"I hate you," she whispered quietly. No doubt he'd dragged her out of an amusing night just so he could say what he'd wanted to after finding out. His disapproval had been all too real to ignore, and she wasn't sure there was anything more to say after that. A tear slipped down her face, away from his prying eyes as she watched the buildings fly past them. As much as she could, she prepared herself for the inevitable explosion.

"Why do you say that when we both know it's not true?" His smug question hurt all the more, because he could see right through her act, and was making a point of it. A few more tears broke past her weak barrier as she sat there quietly. Why did he have to do that? Did she have to be reminded how hopeless it was, or couldn't he just leave her alone?! She huddled toward the door as far as she could, wishing for a stoplight so she could make her escape.

Mamoru glanced over at the unusually quiet girl at his side. Usagi was not the kind of person to just sit down and take a comment like that. In the dark cocktail dress, she actually looked like her crime-fighting counterpart. Her legs were long and defined, hair falling messily across his car the way it had landed when they first got in. She somehow had found just the right angle to cross her arms at to look utterly tempting, yet he could see that one small movement would hide well the curves she now sported plainly. He wondered how on earth she could have kept that body a secret for so long. His mouth tightened in irritation as he sped around another corner. Oh, he knew alright. He knew very well what had made the difference between them so startling –and he wasn't going to put up with it.

A passing streetlamp caught her reflection in the glass just as he happened to glance over. She was pale, lips trembling in pain and fear. Tracking their way down her soft cheeks were thick tears, only to slide beneath her chin and drip slowly downward. He bit back a curse, not having realized he'd hurt her somehow. The stick-shift was abandoned momentarily as his fingers grazed her elbow. She flinched away violently, practically hissing at him.

"Don't touch me!"

There was that tone again. The one she'd used at Christmas… It took every ounce of self control not to slam on the brakes and confront her about it. Instead, he quietly pulled off the road, noting absentmindedly that they'd found themselves beneath the highway and nowhere near where he'd wanted to go. Hardly the romantic setting he'd hoped for in this conversation.

The second the car slowed down enough, she was ripping at the handle and bolting into the night. Mamoru didn't bother thinking twice before jumping out and chasing after her. The sick combination of uneven ground and heels quickly did their dirty work on the clumsy blond. He caught up soon afterward, gathering the finicky girl as carefully as her protests would allow.

"What the HELL do you want from me?" she shrieked, fighting his hold on her arms with all the strength she could muster. Mamoru suddenly found himself in an all-out battle with one of the strongest women he'd ever met. It took more than a few minutes to finally get her in a position where both arms could close around her to stop all of the ridiculous flailing. He forced himself to be gentle, not to handle her too roughly as he once again threw her over one shoulder and calmly turned back toward the car.

"Just to talk, Usagi-chan," he panted, obviously winded from the effort such a struggle took. Her silver heels were thrashing though the air at an alarming rate, and came dangerously close to his face more than once before he could finally get his free arm around them both. "Do you have to fight so goddamn hard? It's just a few minutes, and then you can go back to your sniveling, whiny little date if that's what you want."

She moaned, somewhere between anger and vengeance, beating at his back as they went. It was completely useless, both of them knew it. But it did serve to make her feel just the tiniest bit better when he finally did set her down on the trunk, arms protectively set on either side of her. He looked winded, and the constantly perfect hair was mussed and windblown.

"What?" she snapped irritably after a few moments of his staring. The darker-than-midnight eyes saw directly through her. The unnerving feeling that he knew everything about her came back, this time with greater force. The set of his brow was soft, the high classic cheekbones perfectly angled by streetlight and shadow. No, she was not going to go through this again. He'd just kidnapped her! He'd insulted her date, lied to the chaperone, and sped across the city! If anything, she should be transforming to kick his law-breaking butt and send him to jail!

"You're beautiful." He commented finally, unsure of how to start. The last traces of alcohol had been burned from his blood during their chat, and now it seemed impossible to breach the subject. He had never been one for talking; he'd never had the opportunity with anyone. Now, staring at her under the streetlamps, it seemed even the familiarity of Moon was no longer a consideration. The irate woman was as cold and distant as she had ever been.

"You wanted to talk. What?" she glowered, stubbornly refusing to admit how sincere he sounded.

"Did you know your mother was altering your clothes to hide your figure? I couldn't decide if it was part of your cover-up or not. It was brilliant."

The question left her dumbfounded and a little frightened. Had he been in her house snooping around? He was eyeing her dress critically, avoiding her chest area in some mock show of respect. It made her blood boil to see him even try to be a good guy; they both knew he was nothing but shallow.

"My mom's a seamstress. She alters everyone's clothes." Usagi found herself biting her tongue to keep from saying anymore. Her mother had made her clothes since she was a child. There had not been a lot of extra money in their family, but she'd die before admitting it to the cruel billionaire before her. It was one facet of her life that he'd been blissfully unaware of –and she was going to keep it that way.

"Right." He smiled a little. "I'm an idiot. I know." The air grumbled as he cleared his throat to continue. "But just let me say that it's damn hard to see through the glamour and the sudden change in personality. As Moon, you're fearless and strong and ready to take on anything, but as Usagi…you just seemed meek and hurt all the time." He was staring down at her knees while he spoke. The unsteady rhythm of his voice made it difficult for her to fire back, but the stubborn pride burning in her frustrated chest cavity ate this information and spewed it back with a vengeance.

"Maybe it was because I was being bullied!" Her face felt hot. Her throat burned with tears and screams and a volcano of fiery emotions she didn't want to face yet. She had just gotten into the idea of him never being around; he was breaking the rules simply by standing there. If only he'd just relent, confess that they were too different now, and then she could just move on. If only he'd just admit he was cruel and frozen and uncaring, then she could walk away without another thought.

"Then it's my fault. I'm sorry." The clouded depths of cobalt rose to meet hers, filled with disgust and longing. The retort lodged in her aching throat. She turned away, nervously pulling a stray hair from her face. The magma-seared rage in her blood flared at the sight of his broken, pained face. Her brain refused to register his nervous tic, the subtle shift of his feet on gravel. He didn't mean it. He was just setting them up for more heartache, more pain.

The soft giggle of evening wind lifted her hair forward to embed in her lip gloss again, as if daring her to turn back to him. Sodden heaviness began behind her eyes, constant and pained in response to him. She said nothing, resolutely tugging her hair back into place and staring at the road.

"You and I…burned the second we met. Remember?" He began again, this time the ironic smile apparent in his tone. Soft blue furtively glanced his way at the comment, to turn back just as quickly when she realized how close he was watching her. "But you were fourteen then. Just a kid, and I didn't bother to give it a second thought. Time went by…differently."

"So, what you're saying is you never really thought of me ever? Other than maybe as a nuisance." The anger in her voice was strained, even she could tell.

"Honestly, yes. You were fourteen, and I'm not a pedophile." He sniffed thoughtfully, trying to remember where they'd been going in the conversation. It was difficult to focus on his thoughts with her cleavage inches from his face. He wanted to lean away, if for no other reason than to ease the heat coiling in his gut, but frankly the likelihood of her bolting was still too high. "You have to admit that as a Senshi, watching you grow was much more dynamic. You cried the Youma into submission the first time around, and now look at you. It's like Xena on crack. That passion is incredibly sexy."

"Sexy is the only thing that matters to you, isn't it? I wear a miniskirt and suddenly you're drooling. I wear a cocktail dress and suddenly you know who I am. Nice, Mamoru. Good to know I'm just a slab of meat!" What had begun as ironic disbelief quickly escalated to complete disgust as she spoke, voice growing hot with anger. She felt the tears again, rising without permission to ruin her. Was he really so fickle? Did looks really matter that much to him that it was all he ever saw?

"And if I'd worn pants up to my chest and suspenders, it wouldn't have mattered to you, hu? Don't think I've never seen you eyeballing my tux, if that's the point you're trying to make!" Emotions raged through him: fear of rejection, anger and betrayal. She was acting as if the past year had never happened, as if he himself had not been scarred by her.

"Serenity never had to do any of that for Endymion," she muttered, turning her nose up at the thought. Yes, she'd looked. But it was different! They were different!

Mamoru could close his eyes at any moment and retrace from memory the shape of her. Endymion had been forced to do the same when it was too difficult to get away from his guards. The beautiful tinkle of her soprano mind, the softness of her skin; even as a faded, half-warped memory, the Titan had haunted his nights. The only eclipse in her power had been the lightning rod that was Moon. Even the thought of her would steal the living breath from him. He couldn't help the chuckle, wondering how he could have not noticed the same in Usagi. Even the thought of her with anyone else had sent his body into stress convulsions for who knew how long.

"Yeah, well she didn't start out underage and crying either. And you'd better believe Endymion thought she was hotter than sin." His eyes narrowed, heating as he spoke. She shivered at the rawness of his voice, risking a glance in his direction again. The wind was playing in his hair, lapping at his shirt. A nervous gulp drew her throat tight at the look in his eye, as possessive and hot as it had been their wedding night.

"Endymion loved her for who she was." she stated with conviction, afraid that at any moment he would rain down like an avenging angel and break all self control. This was getting out of hand. He was seeing her as the Goddess, and not the girl. He was comparing her to a version that hadn't been alive in millennia. Of course, that was to be expected after everything they'd been through. Why wouldn't he see her at her peak rather than a lowly student with bad grades and no foreseeable future?

"He also had time to get to know her without having to play the ultimate game of 20 questions," the shadowed man commented, still heated at the trailing thought of Christmas, of Valentines, and of their one night together so long ago. It wasn't just the actions, like Motoki had said, he missed the feeling of belonging. He missed the sense of home she'd lent in those moments. What would it have been like to really know Usagi like that? Would she always have been so comforting? Would she have tended his wounds and leaned her head on his chest? Would she have cried; could she have trusted him so much?

"He defied the Gods for her! He did everything for her!" The blonde's hot barb launched from her irritated mouth, completely oblivious to his thoughts. An ironic chuckle rumbled up from his chest at the thought.

"Endymion didn't just defy the Gods and the Fates; he kicked them all in the ass, spat in their faces, and died laughing." He shifted, continuing the thought as if he'd been over it a hundred times in his head. "I applaud the man; I'd probably go for the same outcome, but I'm not him."

"And I'm not Serenity."

A muscle leapt in his jaw at the thought. The woman seriously was trying to make this about their past. It was like she was trying to discredit every ounce of chemistry they'd had as Moon and Kamen. Like every fight they'd had in the past hadn't been laced with fire and ice, pent up emotions dying to break free. He leaned forward, intense in the need to convey exactly the words his mind had been screaming from the beginning.

"She is nothing compared to you. The freckles, the tears, that hard stomach–hell I bet that princess dreamt of the day she'd get to be you!" He paused long enough to draw breath again. Shocked, and slightly confused, the girl finally met his gaze head on. "I don't need some prissy little whiny brat to do anything, and I sure as hell don't need some girl who's going to cower and simper and cry all the time. I need someone who will stand up to me, tell me I'm wrong when I'm wrong, and even put me in the emergency room if I'm being that much of an ass."

"You are never going to drop that, are you?" She scoffed, turning tired blue eyes to peer somewhere far in the distance. The dark night closed around them in suffocating pressure as the silence grew. It was so obvious now, with her firm angry face turned away, that her profile matched perfectly. How had he not seen it in every single yelling match they'd ever had together? How could he have possibly ignored the subtle tilt of her head, the way her eyes flashed and darkened just enough to be noticeable?

"I love you." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Even as they came, he wondered momentarily if they were really true. Yes, he loved his goddess more than life itself, and yes the warrior had won his heart long ago. Perhaps more than anything he wanted a chance with Usagi just to see if it was possible. After all the beautiful women he'd dated, and all the ones he still could be dating, Usagi was the girl he'd die to protect, to serve and have a chance to know and love.

It all came from the same mouth. Didn't she see that everything they had together wasn't based on who was better or more refined? Didn't she see that the quiet times alone brought laughter and tears and joy and heartache? Didn't she see this as home?

"Don't say that. You don't know me."

"Usagi…" The bitter words tore his thoughts to bloody ribbons.

"You don't!" An explosion of fire blue eyes almost knocked him back as the girl spun to face him without fear. Her small finger shoved into his chest roughly as she continued. "You went back on your promise, not me! You started this whole chain of events, not me!"

"Yes, and I'm the one groveling right now," he yelled back, already losing his resolve not to fight with her again. The blond was silent as he forced the breath in and out again. Gods, he'd never been the kind to explode like that unless she was somehow involved. "What can I do, Usagi-chan? Is there enough begging that would satisfy you? Am I allowed to apologize yet?"

"Mamoru," she warned, feeling the intensity of his comment. He was trying to make her sound like the bad guy, and she didn't appreciate it. Her anger was completely justified! He was the cause of every problem! He should just admit it and move on!

"I am sorry. And I do love you." he grumbled softly, trying to hold the words back even as they fled from his mouth. Her shocked, slightly horrified gaze met his hesitant glance, and he knew he'd already lost. The realization settled like a smoldering ember directly below the hollow cavity where a ghost heart beat on. The salty burn of tears stroked his tired, downcast eyes. But he would not, could not allow them to fall. Not in front of her. She didn't need to be manipulated any more than had already happened. The sudden tightness of his throat throbbed in pain as he sagged forward onto his tired arms.

Her strong, pale legs shifted just barely away from his hand, revealing without words exactly where her thoughts drove her. The sight finally squeezed a single tear past all his walls to tumble from short, charcoal black lashes to splash onto the sparkling fabric of her dress. He shifted, as if to wipe the dark spot away before changing his mind. She'd already pulled away from him enough; he had no intention of watching her do it again so soon.

"What do you really want, Usagi-chan," he asked finally. The words couldn't have come before; the answer was too terrifying to hear. But now, seeing how she had already made up her mind, it would be a comfort to know it was truly over. The thought scorched his dry throat, nearly made him vomit in response. He'd lost. Oh Gods, he lost. "If you want me gone, then it has to be all the way. I will never recover from this, and to see you move on…I love you. And you," he whispered, gulping, losing his thought, "just please. Gods, please, one date. I'm begging you. I swear, if it's not everything you need and more then I won't ask again."

"M-Mamoru-san…" Usagi shifted uncomfortably, her tone cautious. He gulped, biting back the urge to sob. Gods, what she did to him was so justifiably cruel. He couldn't hate her. With a deep, solid breath, he dropped to his knees in the gravel. Pebbles of all sizes dug through the fabric of his pants, leaving a bruised, achy sort of pain in his knees and shins.

"Tsukino Usagi-san, please. Please."

The truly difficult part was knowing, even looking down at him as she was, that it would be the most exquisite, beautiful pain she would ever feel to say yes and be broken again somewhere down the road. And yet, it was so…so tempting anyway. The potential of Endymion held a cloying, sensual taste in her mouth. Knowing as she did that the Prince had been faulty, and yet extremely kind and loving to her. The idea that one day, Mamoru might be the same… the pitiful, beaten down flame burning in her chest for him alone could have sparked a wildfire strong enough to consume her entirely. It had lead to nothing but disaster- beautiful, dizzying, heartbreaking devastation. Could she go through with it again? Could she let the most selfish, arrogant, frustrating man she had ever known into her life again?

But he was crying, obviously struggling not to. With new eyes, she could register the subtle trembling of his form through the night. She could see the weight bearing down on his broad shoulders, could see the deep rooted change that had scarred him too profoundly to ever heal. As harsh as spring had been in his apartment, even then she could see how he had shifted, become more mature, more caring. She had flared in response to his kindness, had ached for it.

The old Mamoru would never be emotional at all. Her nemesis would have laughed cruelly, would have stared down his nose at her at finding out. He would have shaken his head, walked away, and left her with nothing. So alien, so terribly cold in all his dealings. But it was not the broken man crying into her skirt; the two practically bore no semblance of each other.

"I was never a god. I'm just a man, and I love you however imperfect that may be," the grumbled, pathetic drivel fell from his mouth like emotional vomit. Every thought had culminated in the back of his mind fueled by frustration and desire and loneliness. "It's all from the same mouth, from the same soul. I want to make it right. Gods, I just want it right..."

Justice demanded she say no. Mercy squeezed at the hollow ache in her chest. All the while, the soft look that haunted his eyes earlier spoke with every ounce of fear she'd felt herself for the past year. Mamoru was terrified, heartbroken and lonely. She had felt those things herself- had been tortured by them, even. She knew, intimately, how cauterizing it could be, how the loss made you numb after a while and you felt yourself drifting.

As much as she wanted to, as much as he deserved to have his sentiments ripped out and thrown at his feet in return, even her broken heart couldn't be so cruel. With infinite hesitance, her gaze shifted away from the downcast head as she tightened her arms across herself. This may be the biggest mistake she would ever make.

"One date. But if you even think of calling me Odango Atema, it's over."

.

.

…

The roughly tread footpath lead deeper and deeper into the waving white birch trees. Blossoming green leaves fluttered back and forth, adding a gentle rhythm to their quiet footsteps. Neither spoke. The path was littered in branches and rocks, and the uneven ground made it difficult to look ahead while walking. The unusual quiet set his teeth on edge, made him feel like he was constantly trying to dodge an oncoming ghost train.

It had been so awkward thus far. What he had assumed would be a quiet place to get to know each other had quickly transformed into a silent and increasingly uncomfortable prison. The crunch of broken twigs filled the silence with a certain sense of finality. He could almost hear the Fates laughing to themselves at his expense. After all that he had done, still it was not enough. It was an embittered thought, filled with no small amount of self loathing. It was more than he deserved.

The path continued in broken lines, heavily accented with rocks and trees. More than once, he'd not mentioned the slither of an early summer snake inching away. It was the last thing they needed right now. Well, that and more silence. He tried not to glare into the unoffending foliage. Instead, the heinous trees closed in around them until even their broken and twisted bodies blocked the way.

He scrambled up a fallen trunk, reaching back absentmindedly for her in the process. For the first bare moments, Usagi couldn't help but stare at the outstretched limb. Technically, she didn't really need his help over anything; still she found her hand caught by his as she scrambled quietly over the roadblock. The anxiety was gnawing at her fervently. They weren't talking. She had nothing to talk about, not with him anyway. There was always Senshi business or asking him about school. Either one would bring up things she didn't want highlighted though, for fear he would end up teasing her. She was tired of being laughed at.

The long, sloping plane of trees gave way moments later, revealing a shallow gorge that ran parallel to their walking path. Her feet slowly stilled long enough to take in the view. Evergreen trees lined the opposite bank, their branches dancing. Across the grass speckled ground, fervent spring flowers had blossomed in pinpricks of vibrant color. Boulders dotted the crooked, twisting floor that ran in broken lines below them and into the distance.

"This is really beautiful," he commented quietly, looking out over the vista in appreciation. The blond nodded silently, her eyes wide and one hand held cautiously against her mouth. He grimaced, trying to force a smile to the surface as she looked quickly away.

It had been like this through the car ride and through lunch. He'd tried to say something, only to be given non-committal answers and fear in return. He couldn't help but wonder why it seemed so difficult. They had an entire lifetime behind them already; it should have been as easy as pulling her close and whispering like they used to do. It was just too awkward. So much of their time had been wasted bickering. It would have been just as natural to strike up the playful banter, but hesitation and anxiety made love in the back of his mind over it.

On one hand, it would have broken the mood in no time flat, but on the other it was equal chances which way things would go. He didn't want to be misunderstood; he didn't want her to think things were the same as they had always been. There was so much more to them both now and he seemed incapable of expressing what it was or why. Worse, he seemed incapable of saying anything to her without sounding completely desperate.

But he was. Never in all his years had he ever wanted something so badly. If just to see her laughing, hear her worries, and take her tiny hand in his while they walked. He tried not to shift his grip at all, hoping she wouldn't notice that he still had hers. If somehow by the end of this, he hadn't found a way to break the ice, at least there would be this one memory of her- no battle uniform, no flowing dress. She was just Usagi, and she was so perfect it would break him.

What he wouldn't give for those eyes to rest on him, for her thoughts to rage through his skin. He would never be rid of her, no matter how many lives they had before them. His curse would be complete in that she may never love him again. He would burn; oh he would burn in every lifetime for her. One does not love a goddess and turn away. One could never forget.

He had rushed home after dropping her off, had pored over every idea he could think of. It was the only way he knew of to help stave off the oncoming madness that was his final chance. He had all but engineered these moments in the hopes that she would open up. He knew if they could just speak freely that deep down she would see how much things had moved forward. He knew that together, they could make everything right again; if only she would say anything to him!

If not…he couldn't bear to think of the consequences. Already, he'd received word that the school board wanted to speak to him about the night of the dance, and frankly he'd skipped two finals in a drunken stupor. He was lucky enough to have the money to retake the classes, but it would set him back a whole semester at school. Not that any of that mattered, because the future he had so painstakingly prepared for meant nothing without the presence of Usagi! So much of this journey had been to make room for her!

It was agony. The path gave way to rocks and tree limbs lining the small gorge on either side; all the while his brain mimicked the chaos around them with none of the charm. For right now, it was just the heavy foliage, the quiet wind, and the silent woman at his side. It was the perfect trifecta of complete displacement from their world. She slid past him unknowingly, her eyes trained on the gorge below as she walked. All the while, he watched her go; felt as if it was all he could ever do.

Without warning, the ground fell from beneath her, pulling the young girl down. She squealed; the sense of weightlessness causing her full stomach to churn as grass and branches dug into her legs. The firm grip on her hand pulled at her long enough to fill the world around her with his protective embrace. Earth and sky rolled harmlessly passed as they slid, though the trail of golden blond hair caught and tore at the scene as it went by. Their short tumble ended close to the bottom as her head connected with a protruding rock.

"Usa, you ok?" His voice echoed for a second as the shock reverberated through her skull for a moment. The pain was dull though, and she couldn't help the nervous laughter boiling up.

Of all the stupid, childish things she could have done! On the most awkward date in the history of the world, with Chiba Mamoru of all people! It was like the universe was snorting at the possibility! The laugh intensified at the thought, and was quickly joined by a deep throated chuckle. Even more impossible, his solid body was again plastered to her from head to toe, his face bare inches from his. Was this a fever dream? Had she finally lost her mind?

"Just call me Grace," she muttered the moment the giggling subsided.

"Some things never change," he answered back, shifting his arm free to pick the leaves from her hair. He was smiling as he spoke, all warmth and humor. Perhaps she'd been too hasty earlier. Throughout the day, she'd done nothing but scuttle about nervously and avoid talking to him. It was more and more apparent with the gentle turn of his voice that this was not to be a repeat performance of last summer. Even his strict, perfect hair had relaxed and sported twigs and a slap of dirt. The harsh, aristocratic lines of his face were lit from within. She bit at her lip uncertainly, noting how different he really was from so long ago.

He couldn't help staring at the action, so close it would take nothing but the force of gravity to close the distance between them. How many times had his dreams placed him right here? Vivid fields of green and elm white framed the fairytale golden tresses, teased them with sylvan fingers of wood and old leaves. She was laughing still, cheeks stained in shame despite her humor.

He shifted away, breathing steadily. Now was not the right time, and the date had not been as charming as he would have hoped. Careful, meticulous plans had been made last night, and he would not waste one moment of pleasure for a lifetime of regret.

She wasn't ready, if her demeanor was any clue, and a move like that would only cement that thought in her head. He had decided long before today that if this chance were to arise, he would not just tear the wrapper open and devour her. She was much too young, and such an aggressive tactic would only scare her away. She needed to know it would be done on her terms, that she could come when she was ready.

He continued to pick leaves from her hair, loving that her clothes had shifted in the tumble and no longer sat straight. The waterfall of gold traveled uphill, snagging on branches and dripping through the dirt. He lifted one leaf in particular, curious that it was stained in autumn colors.

Her chin was tugged gently to the side, revealing the angry damage. A pained hiss broke from his mouth at the sight of the ugly mar on her perfect skull just behind the ear. The offending rock dripped darkly, guiltily in the shadows. She hadn't cried out, she hadn't seemed to notice the oily seeping mess leaking down her neck into the ground.

"Usa… Let's get you back to the car. Here." He fumbled noisily in one pocket, filling their refuge with the tinkling sound of candy wrappers until he could extract a handkerchief. Usagi couldn't help but stare at the man in hopeless confusion and amusement. She'd always assumed he was too mature to like something as childish as candy. Her head was throbbing, and the hysteria of her earlier thoughts was still too funny.

It didn't help that moments later, the world lifted away, and her head fell loosely against his shoulder. Unsteady and confused, the girl allowed her arms to drape around his neck as if such an action would make the world stop tilting. It didn't help that he was so warm it made her feel like she was cuddling a heat pack.

The trees began to shift and fall away, the sky became clearer. The footpath had stretched quite a while toward the cars, but she didn't feel the need to speak. It was nice to be held, it was nice to be taken care of even though she would have been perfectly fine on her own down there. She would have just waited it out; maybe done some cloud gazing while she recovered. One hand slid cautiously over her face as the pain began to build. She hissed, feeling the molten wound begin to throb.

"Oh, Usa-chan, are you alright?" His chest rumbled curiously into her ribcage. It tickled, made her giggle while he pressed warm kisses to her forehead. The soothing action seemed to fight back the throbbing pain of her skull, help her mind clear bit by bit until the parking lot came into view.

The world was all too real when her feet graced the pavement again, though her head still ached and throbbed. He carefully leaned her back against the car, holding her arm steady while the door was thrown open. She gulped, reaching up to touch the warm liquid spilling over her collarbone. Her fingers came back dark. She couldn't help the ironic grimace, wondering how long he would take to tease her about it.

Instead, he carefully held her face with his hands, closed both midnight blue eyes, and waited. Her ears began to heat, her throat to burn. She winced, feeling the headache retract inch by inch through her skull like a battered animal. With every victory, the pain was replaced with soft comfort and warmth till blue met blue once more.

"Holy crap, how did you do that?" She realized a little too late how childish the question was. Her shock was complete when he laughed, tapping the side of his nose.

"Thought you got me with that punch last year, didn't you?" His smirk leveled a moment, becoming serious. "Hey, on that note, what was that for? I still have no clue."

"Oh. I had the flu. I just remember being mad, and you were being selfish." She blinked, suddenly forgetting the anger of the past. Why had she punched him, anyway? That wasn't something that she'd normally do. It had been a weird day- well, a weird couple of days. She'd been emotionally compromised. By him. Rather than dwell on it, she shrugged, looking away. "It's been a long time."

"Right. You would have." He grimaced, remembering their conversation over Valentine's. He'd asked Moon out just days after swearing off Usagi. That had to have been a mind trip to say the least. He cleared his throat, setting a small first aid kit on the roof behind her. "Here, let's get you cleaned up at least."

The mood had lightened just a fraction, and the soft breeze filtering around them helped relieve some of the tension building in his back. Even as she turned away, even as the wound became a gruesome reality, he was grateful for it. Had things gone according to his plan, they never would have turned out so perfectly. At least now she had laughed, at least she was speaking to him finally.

The long, pale throat bent backward, draped in rivers of dark wine blood. For the first time ever, Mamoru caught an inkling for the multiple droughts of vampire craze over the years. There was something supernatural about the vibrant splash of color, the long elegant lines. The wolf was baying in the back of his mind, aching to at least give the soft, pale flesh a nibble.

With more self control than any man had a right to, he turned and pulled a water bottle from the backseat. Knowing it would hurt, he slid one hand neatly between the crook of her jaw and neck on the opposite side, and pressed the damp material down as softly as possible. She hissed a little, gripping his wrist with a free hand.

The aching contrast between his soft hand and the searing pain proved heady. It left her mind swirling unsteadily. She remembered doing much the same for him back in December, could remember how his burning midnight eyes had softened, the gentle smile that tugged at his lip. It had been such a comfortable moment between them, something that had tied them together before she'd gone and ruined it.

She blinked, wondering if he'd been haunted by that night as well. In that first moment of sweetness, she had begun to wonder if it were possible. One glance at his face, coated in dirt and laughing behind his steady gaze, and she wondered if the future would hold as much hope. This sweet, funny version of Mamoru was almost too good to be true. She wondered how long he would stick around before his true nature won out.

Blue eyes fell away, riddled with insecurity and doubt. It could all be an act, and she was falling for it. Men don't just change- they don't just do the right thing because it's what they should be doing. Her mothers had both warned her about it many times. There had to be some kickback, some personal payout they got in return. It never ended well. This view more than outlined the Chiba Mamoru she had known for years; the one who seemed to have faded over the past several months.

"You ok?" he asked again, gently cleaning the mess from her neck. She gulped, nodding and reaching up to wipe at the sodden fear hanging from her lashes.

"Yeah, hurts," she muttered, purposefully refusing to specify or turn her face to look at him again. She would never know until it was too late; so desperate was the desire to see him be the king, the kind ruler she had always believed him capable of. Even the slumbering Immortal buried within the confines of her mind flared in response to this thought; sent the silvery heat burning beneath her skin.

"May I," he whispered, bending in close to her ear. She shivered helplessly, so attracted to him it seemed impossible to fight it. It was strange to think that even after their bond had been severed, every cell in her body reacted to his proximity like a torch catching fire.

Her skin glittered momentarily, and he could do nothing but stare at the beautiful swirls of light. He could see the sweet tension between them, knew the reason her flesh was reacting so violently. Their chemistry was powerful, like the draw of addiction or the need to breathe. It didn't fix their more apparent problems, but he couldn't help but thank the unknown powers above for making it easier to get close.

The cut was seeping still, as all head wounds tend to do. The front of her shirt was ruined already, though he was more than willing to help with that situation. A wolfish grin beat across his face as he leaned in closer and pressed his mouth to her neck. Golden lights flared like firecrackers in response, popping in the near silence even as she sucked in a surprised breath. His kiss lingered a little too long on the soft skin. How he wanted to push her back against the car, spread fire through her veins and claim her forever. Instead, as he had promised himself he would, he retreated just enough to view the perfect fabric of her neck and ear as if it had never been injured.

"Oi, not going to suck my blood, are you," she whispered quietly. On some level, he knew she'd meant it jokingly, but even his thoughts had traveled that same road. A sly grin sprawled across his face for a second, before the silk of his tongue flicked against her neck. She squeaked, instinctually tearing herself away from him.

"Was that an offer?" For a spare moment, the wicked humor bled through the surface of their date. Not the way old Mamoru had teased and belittled Usagi; that man was dead and gone. But for a moment, the devil-may-care grin, the attitude, and the attraction simmered beyond the earlier awkwardness. In those few seconds, watching her sweet reaction, he felt like himself instead of some guilt-ridden, heartbroken imposter.

Her upturned face bloomed red, though her mouth was open and breathing hampered. She had pressed herself flush against the vehicle, ruined shirt bobbing in the most enticing way. His eyes had trailed the length of her only once before he could force them back up. The damage was done: her eyes flashed guiltily to his in response.

He said nothing, rather allowed the drawling smile to coat his face as he came forward again. Hell yes, she'd been giving him the once over; and damn straight he'd been doing the same. The coiling pleasure rippled beneath his skin as his fingers feathered against her cheek. Her eyes smoldered, mouth open and utterly tempting. He was locked on that shy, simmering blue gaze; so full of confusion and doubt and desire.

"Oh…the cut's gone," her aching throat barely squeaked the comment. He was touching her face and staring in her eyes. She gulped, anxiety gnawing at her. He made no move to come closer. Disbelief still marred the earlier moment at the bottom of the ravine. The man who had basically kidnapped her on Christmas Day would have jumped on that moment like a hyena on a dead wildebeest. What was he trying to do, kill her with anticipation?

"Oi, Odango…" The spell broke as the rebellious word slid free. The icy sheet of fear clawed through him where moments before he had burned. Both eyes clenched in agony. She'd said not to call her that. She'd specifically mentioned it. And for that simple, heat stroked exchange, he had allowed himself to hope…

It stretched on. Her silence baited from him an earnest glance, laced with fear and longing and love. If she could just reach into his mind, see the fondness that was growing specifically for her…. His jaw clenched as her arms began to wrap around herself. It was deliberate withdrawal, final, and ultimate, and heart wrenching.

"You know, that could almost be a pet name." The woman murmured, her eyes still too warm. The piercing gaze met his; challenging him and tearing through the pretense. He smiled, willing her to do just that. She would know, and this would be the last awkward date between them.

"Yeah, I meant it that way." He still worriedly chewed the inside of his lip as they stared at each other. Maybe he'd overstepped his bounds a few times too many. If things had been otherworldly before, now they felt oppressive. That night, kneeling in the dirt had been the lowest he had ever slunk and to be turned away now- literally tripping at the finish line…

"Fair enough," she smiled.

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…

The soft smell of her shampoo- it was her shampoo he'd smelled that night on the roofs- completely surrounded them. It didn't bear that slight musky alcohol scent that perfume did and it seemed warmer, richer in her golden hair. The soft breeze had settled during the car ride home and left the waves trailing toward the ground rather than to wrap around him. He let his arm fall to her waist as they ascended the short couple of steps toward the door, grateful the silken mass had been trapped by his hands.

It didn't feel quite feel so impossible from here. Yes, the short tumble down the hill earlier had eased some of the tension, but she obviously still struggled with trust, amongst many other things. He'd wanted all day to touch her somehow, feel her soft hair or hold her hand. The loss of physical contact was like a slap when she reached out to grip the grey doorknob.

After literally falling down a ravine, the hated nickname, and cut behind her ear, this was not exactly the date he'd wanted it to be. As much fun as he'd had talking to her, part of him was worried her young, romance-manga induced mind might not view the events with as much pleasure as he did. And here, in the last few moments, he'd be damned if she just walked into the house like nothing happened.

The calm, quick pull of his hand filled the world with spinning blond hair and big, surprised blue eyes. The bundle fit perfectly in his arms, tight against his chest, with her beautiful face so close their noses brushed together. Short, surprised breaths puffed against his mouth.

Whatever doubt he'd had about being able to kiss her was quickly swept away in the perfect, natural response throbbing in his lips. She was gorgeous and fiery and sweet and so, so clumsy. As much as he'd professed hating that in the past, the characteristic was endearingly human. His goddess was so perfectly flawed, with the tiny freckles on the tips of her cheeks, the remnants of leaves trailing in her hair, and her truly, horrifically awful grammar.

She had driven him to the brink of sanity over the past year with her constant refusals and higher-than-human expectations. It had taught him more about human nature than all the years of college, orphanage, and everything in between could hope to cover. For a man who had only seen the darkness, had only understood the base and lowly motivations that drove mere mortals, it had been priceless. It also taught him the perfect, ironic lesson of patience and anticipation.

It was one lesson he would take from today and play over and over for her in their courtship. After all, the smooth devil had never left; Endymion had been just as wicked in that sense. With these things in mind, he was happy to return the favor as his lips brushed along her eyebrow tenderly.

"M-Mamoru-san," she whispered quietly. He hesitated just long enough to search the tone for any hint of discomfort. The sound of his name on her mouth was heavenly, even if it didn't carry as much emotion as he would have liked. He pressed a second kiss along her nose bridge, allowing the sweet feelings stirring within him to linger. It felt like home, like life, like love. The next move put their mouths dizzyingly close and laced the air with a sensual note. He did not move to close the gap, though his fingers sought her chin and jaw. The burn in her eyes rose to meet his own; still he waited. Her head tilted back and the soft blue of her eyes dimmed and closed in response.

"What kind of a tease would I be if I didn't leave you wanting more?" he whispered, loving that the intensity of her gaze went from soft to disbelieving. A wicked grin sprawled across his mouth as he pulled away. The look sharpened dangerously as he turned to trek back toward the white picket fence marking the boundary between their worlds.

"Wait…are you serious?" The incredulous guffaw practically echoed around them. He stilled, trying in vain to hide the triumphant grin before turning to look at her. Her hands were spread wide; the shining pigtails strung with tree bits making her look wild in her confusion. He had to admit, the picture was so much better than their usual fights in the arcade. The frustration had nothing to do with anger or hurt so much as arousal. She picked at her fingers uncertainly, turning her blushing face to her feet as she spoke. "No kiss even? Who are you, where's Mamoru?"

"Well, that depends; do I get a second date?"

The Goddess' smile broke through like moonlight in cloud cover. At her shy, pleased look, he could do nothing but mirror those feelings. It was a cruel game to play, for sure, but she didn't seem to mind. He bound up the steps easily, folding her back into his arms like a cheesy romance novel. His fingers brushed her mouth and gripped her chin. The smoldering heaven blue of her eyes flared as his arm snaked around her waist and drug her close. Again, her eyes slid shut in silent acceptance, and again he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Good. I'll see you soon," he whispered, squeezing her against him for a bare moment before exiting the porch. Her confused squeal could be heard even as he climbed into the car.

"Buta! Seriously!" Her wild frustrated arms were flailing. He rolled down a window, winking and giving her his best devil-may-care grin.

"I heard that!"

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AN Oh man, another exciting installment! Sheesh, this is getting out of control. So this was supposed to be the last chapter. But then I had to split it because it was too long. And now I might have to split the next chapter…

Basically, you guys will never be rid of me. Horrible, I know.

So I'm spreading my wings this week, venturing out into the scary world of non-SM flavored fanfic. Wish me luck. It's all in preparation for…

Duh, duh duh DUH! A full length trilogy, just for you guys! Well, also hopefully for hundreds of thousands of other people so I can quit my day job and just WRITE!

I love you all. Thanks for your awesome reviews, and stay tuned!

E