Black Steel and Worldly Wisdom
The Spark
By Mystic Dawn
Summary: (AU) Having children had its ups and downs, Kurogane soon realized, looking down at the little boy who was his spitting image with a sense of trepidation. It made him wish that he had asked his mother for a fitting explanation instead. Though, Kurogane knew, if Tomoyo were here, she'd probably be laughing her head off rather than helping...
The sound of pots and pans coming from the kitchen filled Kurogane's ears with its familiarity. He leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes. He could even picture the way Tomoyo was preparing dinner in his mind. That loud clang meant that she had replaced the lid over the pot. Another soft thud meant that she had drawn out the cutting board. And those rhythmic chopping sounds meant that she was currently preparing a salad. Then he heard something else, something that had always made his heart skip several beats in the past.
"Out of my life, out of my mind, out of the tears we can't deny, we need to swallow all our pride and leave this mess behind..."
Tomoyo's voice always had a soothing effect on him. She'd occasionally sing a couple of verses here and there under her breath whenever she prepared a meal, but he would always be nearby to hear her. It was something like a game between them. He'd be somewhere in the house occupying himself with some task or other, but whenever Tomoyo would start singing, he'd stop and listen. Then, once she would finish with the dinner preparations, she would come find him and say, "Guess the song."
He knew it was her devious way of trying to get him interested in music genres that he despised and ignored. He didn't really mind, seeing as Tomoyo's voice always made the song sound better than the original, but he hated it whenever he lost. If he managed to guess the song (which was rare, but happened occasionally) he'd be rewarded with a very promising kiss. If he failed to recognize it, Tomoyo would make him clean up after dinner.
His lips quirked slightly. He knew the song. It was a recent hit and it kept airing all the time on the radio. He'd even seen the video clip once while he was zapping through TV channels. All right, it was a pop-rock song, but he had to admit that it wasn't that bad. Looks like I'm not gonna be washing any dishes tonight, he thought smugly.
Despite this pleasant thought, his eyes drifted back to the clock and his expression darkened once more. It was almost time. He took a long swig from his beer and stared—or rather, glared—at the door again. He was feeling strangely apprehensive for some reason. He snorted derisively. Why on earth was he feeling apprehensive? If anything, he should be feeling murderous.
Here he was, sitting in his armchair on a Saturday night, nursing his beer and staring (oh, let's be honest with ourselves, he was glaring like no tomorrow) at the door. The clock continued to tick incessantly, as if bent upon getting on his nerves. It didn't help that his nerves had already been frazzled too many times that day. In fact, his nerves had been going from bad to worse all week.
"Um... I was thinking of introducing my boyfriend to you guys. I hope you don't mind. I'm sure you'll like him!"
Those had been his sixteen year-old daughter's words on Tuesday night. Kurogane's jaw had dropped opened unintelligibly at her words. He hadn't even been aware that Tsukiko had a boyfriend. Tomoyo, however, had more tact than him. She had thought it a wonderful idea and had suggested that Tsukiko ought to bring him over to their house for dinner on Saturday. Tsukiko had asked him the next day and he had agreed.
So why was Kurogane feeling so nervous about the whole thing?
He was perfectly aware that Tsukiko wasn't his 'little girl' anymore. He was not oblivious to the change that had occurred over the years. She had grown up from the adorable little girl who would stand up to bullies to the young woman who could make men go weak to their knees (though Kurogane was still blissfully ignorant of the latter phenomenon). Tsukiko had been blessed with his height and crimson eyes, and her mother's pearly-white skin and wavy black hair. She had his guts and stubborn attitude, and Tomoyo's quick mind and manipulative ways. Having Tomoyo's taste in fashion didn't help either, though, Kurogane had to admit, it played its part. She looked pretty much like Tomoyo did at her age, only Tsukiko was taller and had a sharper tongue. She would occasionally shock him with the words that came out of her mouth. And Tomoyo kept telling him that he swore like a truck driver! Ha!
Kurogane sank lower in his seat, absently fiddling with the empty beer can. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice Tomoyo creep up behind him until she had wound her arms around him. "So?" she breathed in his ear, causing a shiver to travel down his spine. "Did you guess the song?"
"It's Fairytale Gone Bad, isn't it?" he asked, feeling very distracted by the way Tomoyo's fingers were lightly massaging his shoulders. "By that new Finnish pop-rock band... what were they called now...? Ah! Sunrise Avenue, right?"
"Perfect," she purred, lightly kissing his throat. The soft, butterfly-like touch of her lips against his skin felt electrifying. "You're getting better at recognizing songs."
"Er..." he managed to croak, swallowing hard as Tomoyo's fingers began to draw lazy designs against his chest under his shirt. "Wh-what exactly are you doing?"
She smiled seductively as she paused from her ministrations. Kurogane's irregular breathing was just what she had been waiting for. She climbed up into his lap and straddled his hips, whispering, "Close your eyes."
He obeyed her command and felt her lips touch his eyelids, kissing him gently. She continued to rain soft kisses upon his face, so achingly sweet, that if they weren't expecting someone for dinner in a few moments and their daughter was sure not to come downstairs anytime soon, he would've taken her there and then. Man, the way this woman could turn him on was exhilarating! He settled for tightening his grip around her waist and seeking out her lips, their mouths fusing together for a deep, meaningful kiss.
"There," Tomoyo breathed when they broke apart, holding his face in her hands. "You look much more relaxed than before."
He opened his eyes and looked into her amethyst depths. "And harder," he added hoarsely.
"I noticed," she smirked, getting to her feet and smoothing out her dress.
"Eh? That's it?" He sounded like a child who had just had a nice treat snatched away from him.
Tomoyo gave him an arch look over her shoulder. "It's not like we're going to have the night to ourselves, Kurogane. Tsukiko's invited her boyfriend over, in case you've forgotten."
"Of course I haven't forgotten! But couldn't we... well, kiss a bit more?" he asked hopefully.
Tomoyo tried to smother her laughter, but was unsuccessful. "If you're a good father and don't embarrass our daughter tonight, I might just consider your proposal."
"But—!"
"No buts," she interjected coolly. "This is an important night for Tsukiko and I won't have your overprotective attitude ruin it." Her eyes drifted over him and her lips quirked into an impish smirk. "I suggest you do something about your little friend before our guest arrives," she giggled evilly as she turned on her heel and retreated back into the kitchen.
Damn little minx! he thought furiously. It was so like Tomoyo to turn him on and then leave him hanging on her every whim and word. He muttered a few choice swearwords under his breath. Somehow, it helped make him feel better.
"I heard that," Tomoyo called from the kitchen.
"Tch," he exhaled irritably.
He was fully prepared to sink back into his bleak thoughts again, had it not been for the sound of the doorbell, jolting him back to reality. He sprang to his feet, his throat tightening in trepidation. He looked down at himself and carefully smoothed out his jeans. He still couldn't understand why he was feeling so nervous.
"Answer the door, Kurogane," came Tomoyo's voice from the kitchen again.
Why me? he thought angrily, but he knew better than to argue. He made for the door, but before he had barely taken a step, he heard a rumbling noise above his head.
"I'll get it, I'll get it!" Tsukiko shrieked, running down the stairs two at a time, tying a last red ribbon around her wrist. She came to a breathless stop before the door and patted her hair nervously before drawing it open. Her face immediately broke into a sunny smile. "Hi! Come on in!" She opened the door wider for the taller man to pass through, closing the door behind him and grabbing his hand, eagerly leading him to face Kurogane.
The first impression Kurogane got was that the two of them standing together looked like they were the front-man and front-woman of a metal band. Tsukiko had straightened her hair and pulled back the half of it, having used hairspray to tame the rest into a stylish hairstyle. She was wearing black and red ribbons around her wrists and a long tight-fitting black dress with red sequins decorating her corset. The effect looked fabulous on her.
The way Kurogane was staring at the tall man by her side was as if he were taking mental notes, especially with the way his eyes raked over him. Green eyes, long shaggy brown hair tied in a ponytail, a silver fang-shaped earring, a tight-fitting shirt, and jeans tucked in leather boots, all black. The look was completed with a long black leather jacket.
"Um..." Tsukiko looked from one to the other nervously. "This is my father, Kurogane. Dad, meet my boyfriend, Isamu."
Isamu bowed slightly and extended a friendly hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, sir. I've heard a lot about you from Tsukiko."
It was as if the word 'boyfriend' had suddenly snapped Kurogane back to reality and made the whole situation more life-like. "Er... yes..." He gave a polite nod and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, too..." He suddenly frowned. "Er... what have you heard about me?"
Tsukiko giggled and Isamu sweat-dropped nervously.
"Kurogane, don't just stand there," Tomoyo suddenly said, coming in from the kitchen with a welcoming smile. "Take the young man's coat from him."
"Oh! Right..." Kurogane fumbled to help Isamu take off his coat and hung it up on a free peg on the wall.
"I'm Tomoyo, Tsukiko's mother. And you are...?"
"Isamu," he said with a low bow. He extended his hand again. "It's a pleasure meeting you, miss."
"What a charming young man," she smiled, shaking his hand. "Here, you can use these slippers inside," she said, handing him the pair Fay usually wore whenever he dropped by for a visit.
"Thank you very much, miss."
After Isamu had removed his boots and replaced them with the blue slippers, Tsukiko led him into the living room. "Have a seat," she offered, patting the space beside her on the couch.
Isamu settled down beside her and mechanically put his arm around her. He suddenly seemed to remember that he was sitting in front of her parents and reddened, drawing back his arm and clasping his hands in his lap. The action made Tomoyo giggle and Kurogane scowl.
"So..." Tomoyo began, perching upon the arm of Kurogane's armchair. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself, Isamu?"
Tsukiko stiffened, but the question didn't seem to ruffle Isamu's feathers.
"Well, I'm a student at the local university. I'm studying psychology."
What the hell? a voice seemed to scream inside of Kurogane's head. A university student? A university student dating his high school daughter? There was no way he was going to allow something like this to pass, he thought vehemently, his right eye twitching slightly, as he unconsciously balled his hands into fists. No fucking way...
"Oh, really?" Tomoyo sounded genuinely interested. "How many years have you been studying psychology?"
"I'm only in my first year, so that would make me nineteen years old, miss."
In his current state, Kurogane seemed to have forgotten that he and Tomoyo had a larger age-difference than Tsukiko and Isamu had, something that Tomoyo firmly reminded him of when she supposedly laid a calming hand upon his shoulder... only that she was squeezing him with a vice-like grip that clearly got her message across: "Keep your anger in check or else you'll have to deal with me."
Kurogane and Tomoyo never really fought with each other, despite what other people might think by taking one look at the rugged-looking man. They bickered constantly, but it was the good-natured kind of squabbling that husbands and wives were prone to do, something in the nature of flirting with one another. However, there were times when Tomoyo and Kurogane hadreally fought. These arguments were nothing like their bickering. Whatever insults they could hurl at each other hurt ten times more than usual, and they would both say things that they didn't mean caught up in the heat of the moment. Most people didn't know this side to Tomoyo, but, being married to her, Kurogane had come to accept it like he did the rest of her habits, only that he never wanted that other side to make its appearance. It terrified him, to be frank. Not in the sissy, cowardly way, but in the way that he was fearful that she might hurt herself in these states.
He lad his hand upon her thigh gently, in a way he hoped she would understand that he had no intention of acting so frivolously. She relaxed her grip, instead, squeezing him again, very gently, in apology. Kurogane was amazed sometimes by the ways he and Tomoyo could communicate without words.
"Oh, no, I didn't mean for it to sound like that," Tomoyo giggled sheepishly in answer to Isamu's words. "I was merely wondering whether you found psychology interesting. Personally, I've always been fascinated by the subject."
"I'm of the same opinion," Isamu admitted with a small smile, visibly relaxing.
Tomoyo and Isamu chatted for a while about various scopes and aspects of psychology, then drifted to more general topics, in which Kurogane and Tsukiko could also take part in. Soon, they were all talking easily amongst themselves (Kurogane admittedly not as easily), until the little clock chimed.
"Goodness, look at the time," Tomoyo marveled. "I think it's about time we had some dinner, don't you think so, Kurogane?"
"Oh! Sure! I'm famished..." He got to his feet, offering a hand to Tomoyo to help her up.
She seemed startled at the gesture, but took the offered hand with a radiant smile. Kurogane felt his chest swell slightly and accompanied her into the kitchen, Tsukiko and Isamu following behind.
"Your parents look like they're still very much in love with each other," Isamu whispered to Tsukiko in such a low voice that Kurogane wouldn't have heard him otherwise unless he had been concentrating.
"It drives me crazy the way they're all over each other sometimes."
"I think it's nice," he said somewhat wistfully. "Most marriages lose the spark after a few years."
"Isamu," Tomoyo said then, causing the two of them to stop whispering, "you can sit over here." She pulled out a chair for him and Tsukiko took the seat next to him.
Kurogane drew out four trays from the cupboard, frowning slightly at the whispered conversation he had witnessed. By the sound of it, Isamu's parents weren't as close as they had originally been. The thought unnerved him. What if something like that would happen to him and Tomoyo over the years, too? He glanced at his petite little wife, as if in reassurance, while she ladled some miso soup into small bowls, and he couldn't help but smile. No, he decided. They would never lose 'the spark' like Isamu's parents had.
Tomoyo felt his eyes on her and looked up at him curiously, taking the trays from him.
"Nothing," he whispered, kissing her cheek lightly and putting one arm around her shoulders. "I'm just glad we're still very much in love with each other."
"You should check your temperature," she murmured back with a mischievous smile. "I don't think I've ever heard you this sappy in front of others before."
"Well, this kid's obviously going to become family, so we ought to start acting comfortable around him, right?"
Tomoyo looked up at him from preparing the food trays, blinking in feigned surprise.
"Don't give me that look," he growled affectionately. "Our daughter's got the same determined expression on her face you had when we first started dating. And judging from your look, you noticed it, too."
Tomoyo's cheeks reddened. "Well, so what if I did?"
"Well, seeing as I'm a guy, I should warn the poor kid what he's getting himself into consorting with the women of our family. Too bad I couldn't warn Souma when I got the chance. At least she's spunky enough to put up with your sister. She's ten times worse than you."
"Am I supposed to take that as a compliment after the way you insulted our family?" she asked tartly.
"If you want," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "Personally, I'm proud of the way our family turned out."
"Are you trying to seduce me, Kurogane?"
"Maybe," he admitted. "Though you were doing a much better job of it beforehand."
Tomoyo's face reddened even more at that. "Well, I... I just wanted to... well, you were sitting there all alone, so forlorn..."
"Oh, just be quiet so I can kiss you."
"Kiss me? Right now? But—!"
It wasn't as if Kurogane was going to wait for an invitation. He leaned down the moment he spotted an opening, claiming her lips with his, and Tomoyo immediately melted against him, gripping his shoulders for support.
"God! Can't you two stay away from each other for, like, ten minutes?" Tsukiko demanded, mortified. "You're embarrassing me!"
"Of course we can, dear, but that takes all the fun out of life," Tomoyo giggled, nuzzling Kurogane's face affectionately with her nose.
"Argh!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "Why the hell can't I have normal parents like everybody else?"
"But they are acting normally, Tsukiko," Isamu said, grinning earnestly. "They're in love."
"The kid can see through us like a fish can through water," Kurogane chuckled, setting down their food trays before them.
"Dad, everyone can see through you two!" Tsukiko huffed.
"Good! At least it'll be obvious I'm going to beat the living daylights out of anyone who tries to get within ten feet of your mother."
Isamu burst into laughter at this as Kurogane sat into the seat across from him, Tomoyo settling down beside him. "How is it you never mentioned your father had a sense of humor, Tsukiko?"
"He doesn't!" she exclaimed, gaping at Kurogane as if seeing him for the first time. "At least... I didn't think he did..." she faltered. "It was always Mom who made all the jokes..."
"I don't, not really," Kurogane admitted. "It depends on my mood. You see, your mother really knows how to cheer me up, if you get my drift."
"Kurogane!" Tomoyo gasped, blushing furiously.
Isamu roared with laughter and Kurogane winked at him. Yes, Isamu would work out just fine.