Disclaimer: all that good stuff. The characters, not mine. They belong the Clamp. Oh except Madame Chatlier. She's more like the archetypal rich woman. So she belong to Jung.

AN: Sorry for the delay. Been doing some major revamping of my computer, and its took me a while to actually get this down on paper. But it gets good, I swear. So on with the show.

What She Needs- Lets Pretend

The drive there was silent for the most part. Tomoyo spent most of the drive staring out the tinted windows at the passing street lights. She gave only one word responses to Eriol's various inquiries, but did not fail to notice that hadn't asked why she had become so somber. She wondered if he even sensed that something in the night had already gone awry. She wasn't sure she wanted him to notice or probe her. She wasn't sure she would tell him if he asked.

So taken by her thoughts, Tomoyo hardly realized that the car had slowed to a stop and Eriol was stating that they had arrived. She instantly shook away the lingering of her somber thoughts. She had started the day with a heavy heart when she only wanted to enjoy herself tonight. Maybe her mental stress was a sign that this had been a bad idea. It was all too complicated and confusing.

She looked to Eriol who had already stepped out of the car and extending a hand to her. She took it, trying to wash away her worries with his touch. She let him pull her from the confines of the vehicle and she was greeted by an unexpected crowd of photographers and their flashbulbs.

Blinded for a moment, she wondered why she considered missing this ambush of cameras and the uncomfortable feeling wrought by them. She shielded her eyes from the white lights, partially covering her face from their critical lenses. She like being behind the cameras, not in front of them.

Eriol led her as quickly as he could inside, feeling uncomfortable from the cameras himself. Once inside, they both seemed more at ease. Eriol smiled at Tomoyo who still seemed a bit disoriented. "I suppose we should have expected that. I hear that many celebrities and some European diplomats and royals attend this ball."

Tomoyo huffed. "Well, then I suppose I should feel privileged to have the Daidouji named honored along side royals. How rude of me to decline every year."

Eriol caught the sarcasm in her voice, but before he could respond they were greeted by the hostess herself. Madame Chatlier was a heavy set French woman with dark auburn hair streaked with a sophisticated gray.

Her style was rather loud and excessive with her layers of diamond jewelry and chinchilla fur wrap.

"Mr Hirigazawa. I am so delighted you were able to attend. Many of my guests are very anxious to meet the talented English composer." Her richly accented voice was filled with adoration and butt kissing.

After many long moments of rambling to Eriol about his talents, the Madame finally managed to take note of the woman on Eriol's arm. Had Madame been a monsieur, Tomoyo would have been greatly offended. It had been many years since a male had been able to ignore her beauty. Actually, Syaoran had been the only male to ever miss Tomoyo at first glance. But she held no grudge. After all, she was standing next to Sakura at the time so he couldn't be blamed. And nor could Madame Chatlier, for Eriol was strikingly handsome and probably stole attention away from other men as she did for other women.

"Miss Daidouji, what a surprise. I wasn't aware you were planning to attend this year since I received no response from you." Tomoyo hated the tone of voice she took with her. Like speaking to a stupid elite five year old.

Instead of snapping back Tomoyo simply smiled. "Oh I am terribly sorry for not sending notice Madame. This was very much a last minute decision. My dear friend Mr. Hirigazawa simply insisted that I postpone my orphanage tour this year. How unfortunate it always falls on the same week as you gathering. Well I am not one to refuse an old friend's request, so here I am." Tomoyo beamed with a spectacular pride that even Madame could not dare say something scornful at the moment.

"Well, Thank goodness for Mr. Hirigazawa then." She gave a low nervous chuckle and her eyes began to roam the room. "Will you both excuse me? I must attend to my duties as a gracious hostess and there are still more guests arriving.

Eriol and Tomoyo both nodded in assent and Madame Chatlier hurried off to greet the incoming elite.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Eriol smirked and looked down at Tomoyo. "Annual Orphanage tour? Have we taken to lying now?"

Tomoyo scoffed. "I wasn't lying. I was just letting her believe that it was sooner than it actually is."

"You mean to say there is such a thing?"

"Of course." Tomoyo's eyes began to roam the room until she spotted a destination away from the entrance and closer to the drinks. "Its really much closer to Christmas time. But Madame Chatlier wouldn't really bother to check up on a detail like that. Basically I have a few semi trucks follow me around Japan, filled with toys and we donate them to orphanages as Christmas presents."

"Her heart of gold shines through for the second time of the night." Eriol was thoroughly impressed with what he had seen tonight.

"Well it was my mother's tradition and I like to keep her traditions in practice. Like I said before, so many toys are unsold and these kids have next to nothing. I suppose I sympathize with those kids in a way. I mean, I may have been an adult already when my mother died, but I still felt like an orphan. All I had left was her toy company. And all these kids have are my mother's toys."

She amazed him. She had always been very generous and sacrificing when she had been young. Bust she was also very shy, reserved, and weak when it came to doing and saying things for herself. She had obviously grown out of that. Now a beautiful, confident, and outspoken woman stood be for him, but somehow adulthood was unable to kill her generous spirit as it had in many people that were like her in their youth.

His eyes fell upon her and softened. He watched as she ordered herself a glass of red wine, still captured in his own musings. There was not doubt now that the Tomoyo he once knew and was quite fond of was still in there.

"Hmmm, a half and hour." Tomoyo's melodious voice hummed beside him.

Eriol angled his head just enough to question her with the corner of his eye.

"We've been here a half an hour and she still hasn't..." She paused for a moment, a smile suddenly forming on her ruby lips. "Well speak of the devil." Tomoyo nudged her chin forward gesturing him to look in that direction.

He waited for a moment, watching the strands of raven curls sweep through the air then taken their rightful place on each side of her ears. He then glanced over to her indicated direction and saw Madame Chatlier waving at him, rapidly approaching with two other foreign guests in stride.

Eriol let out a heavy sigh, understanding Tomoyo's unfinished comment. He looked at her, his eyes pleading for help, for escape, but she only smirked before turning back to the bar and casually sipping her wine.

Without acknowledging him, she paused from her sips. "3...2...1"

"Mr. Hirigazawa!" Eriol turned and the overbearing French woman was at his side, her arm linked with his. He inwardly cursed Tomoyo for choosing that moment to pretend they were unacquainted. 'Sly little mink' he thought to himself.

He turned his attention back to his hostess and her two companions. "Good evening Madame." He nodded his head, greeting the two newcomers silently.

"This is the young gentleman I was telling you about. The composer. Eriol Hirigazawa, this is Madame and Monsieur Michel." Eriol shook and kissed the hands of Monsieur and Madame Michel respectively. "Mr. Hirigazawa here is a remarkable musician. His music is destined to be played by hundreds of prodigal children someday, possibly even your own."

"Madame, you flatter me. Really my music is not quite as monumental as all that." His azure eyes shifted to Tomoyo who was snickering in her wine glass. He inwardly cursed her once more. She knew what was to come next and she had to admit it was a brilliant set up by the French woman. Eriol had played right into her trap.

"Well I suppose that is something we will have to decide for ourselves after a listen. Might you grace us with a piece?"

'Brilliantly played Madame!!'

Eriol tugged at the cuffs of his dress shirt nervously, trying to find a paper way to refuse with no avail. Tomoyo's ruby lips curved into another smile. How entertaining it was to watch Eriol squirm; for once not having the upper hand in the situation. After all he couldn't be smooth and suave all the time.

Tomoyo quickly finished her drink, having opted to help Eriol out of his predicament. She turned to the group, flashing a dazzling smile as she linked arms with Eriol. "Eriol? Play? Oh goodness no. I don't think we will ever see that day. He is so steadfast about not playing for anyone but himself and a recording mic. Oh my, I couldn't count the times I've asked him to play for me and he refused."

Tomoyo inwardly grinned. She wasn't exactly lying. It was true she couldn't count the number of refusals because he had never refused. The one time she directly asked him to play, he had.

"But I suppose that steadfast nature of his will be the key to his success. After all, I'm sure everyone will be so eager to hear his work that by the time the record is released, we will all be standing in line for it." Tomoyo let out an angelic chuckle for the finishing touch.

Madame and Monsieur Michel seemed enchanted by the charismatic young Japanese woman. They both laughed and nodded fervently at her witty comments, in total agreement. Madame Chatlier however, did not seem amused, but played the part as if she was.

Tomoyo touched her other hand to Eriol's arm without turning her attention away from the pack. "Now, if you would excuse us. Mr. Hirigazawa promised me a dance tonight so I was hoping I might snag him away for a song or two." The three nodded and Tomoyo began to guide Eriol to the dance floor.

Once out of earshot, Eriol leaned to his side and whispered words of thanks, "You handled that quite expertly."

"Which can't be said for you. I don't believe I have ever seen you at such a loss for words." Tomoyo chucked as they faced each other in a standard dance embrace.

"I suppose my intuition is getting dull. She completely blind sided me with that one." Eriol responded lightly as they began to move in sync with the melody. Unfortunately the song neared its end sooner than expected and was replaced by a slower melody, accompanied by the vocals of a tragic love song.

In respect of the new environment, Eriol drew Tomoyo's frame close to his, breaking their waltz formation. In response, Tomoyo let the hand, that previously rested on his shoulder, slide down his arm and around his back in a much more casual position.

As they swayed to the music, Tomoyo's head found its way to rest against Eriol's shoulder. Her eyes languidly blinked as her body began to take a state of calm. His heavy scent bombarded her nostrils with the smell of fresh rain and mountainous dew. She could have fallen into a restful sleep just then in the security of his arms if not for the crawling sensations on the skin of her lower back.

Eriol's finger tips expertly traced the line of her back, down to the curve of her dress where it began to follow that as well. They brushed against her tender skin drawing meaningless patterns and lines, sending shivering sensations throughout Tomoyo's body. Every spot yearned that he cease his gentle caresses that teased her so and replaced them with a firm, warm, steady hand.

But he continued and she became intoxicated by his touch. Feeling absolutely helpless and thoroughly aroused, she pressed in closer to him, tucking her head slightly under his chin absorbing more of his scent and tempting herself with the proximity of his ivory neck. Heat began to rise to her cheeks as well as other places as she began to feel light headed, her limbs more and more heavy. She wasn't sure what this new sensation was but she would blame it on the alcohol because it was far easier than exploring other potential answers.

TBC- and that's where I let you hang.