AN: So, now that I got you guys hooked, I can explain to you what this fic is all about, lol.
Some of you might be familiar with this set of really old, really popular studies and its accompanying theory; that you can make any two people fall in love when you give them 4 hours with each other and a certain set of topics to talk about. (Aron, Melinat, Aron, Vallone, & Bator, 1997 - if anyone is interested to look the study up that started it all, lol). It's so popular it turns up in pop-culture from time to time, so, I'm sure some of you have stumbled upon it.
Anyway. The theory has always intrigued me. Plus, one of my favorite films is Before Sunrise (and its sequels) where Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke talk for the entirety of a film, all night through, fall in love through communication, conversation and deep, meaningful connection.
And well, this is the OTP. And I'm not giving them 4 hours to talk this out, I'm giving them 11. And while I'm not using the original questions, I'm having them cover all the valid underlying topics behind the original questions.
So, by the time those elevator doors will open again, this story will be finished.
I hope you'll approve. I, for my part, am having a blast playing around with this set-up.
(Also, it goes without saying that the rating of this fic is for its later chapters.)
First Hour
"So…" Usagi whispered into the darkness, after she'd gotten her giggle fit under control and the silence turned uncomfortable, here, in the pitch black. "What now?"
He moved – she felt it, didn't see it, of course, but from the sound of fabric moving she imagined he must have shrugged, and then probably realized his mistake when he cleared his throat, and started to speak in that unfairly sexy, husky voice of his.
"Seems like a power outage, not a malfunction."
Obviously it wasn't supposed to be a purr with which he said it, but the darkness did strange things to her imagination, and so she reacted even slower and denser than she usually would…
After the first weak squeak she just decided to say nothing.
"Otherwise a generator would have kicked in with emergency light?" he supplied.
Usagi swallowed, willed her voice back into existence.
"Um ... right."
"If that's really the case, someone has to switch the power back on," he said quietly, and it sounded very, very near to her.
She had to blink a few times. And after these few moments, she could at least make out a miniscule difference in the lighting, when her eyes opened back up. At least her eyes were adjusting somewhat to the darkness already.
"And how do we do that?" she said, even though she wanted to cringe the moment she'd said it. Of course, they wouldn't be able to do that.
"We don't. Someone who's not locked in this cubicle needs to."
"Uh, right…" she flinched. She felt like a parrot, trying to think of what to say. "Um…."
But he interrupted her torture.
"You don't happen to have phone reception, here, do you?" he asked.
That, at least, gave her something to do, and she went on the hunt for her phone in the dark, rummaging in her newly recovered, very big, very full shopper bag. It was much harder than she'd thought, without the benefit of sight and all, and she cursed and grunted, which elicited chuckles from beside her, until finally she found it.
She squinted her eyes against what suddenly seemed like a bright glare, when she pushed a button and her lock screen flared up at her.
Yep. No. No reception whatsoever.
She shook her head, now visibly, very dimly illuminated by her screen as she was, like the rest of the small cubicle.
He sighed.
"Well," he said, shrugging exaggeratedly, a little defeated, and with a huff. "Maybe if someone's missing you in a while, and calls the police, then someone comes to check. Otherwise, we're stuck until Murata-san's morning shift."
Usagi blinked. "Who?"
"The weekend security guard."
She threw him a look. "You know who the security guy is, here? On the weekend?"
He blinked. She couldn't see well with only her phone lighting up the place, but it looked abashed, sheepish.
"Well, I come here a lot."
Usagi snorted, loud and amused.
"What?" he asked, and his tone was quite a bit offended.
"Nothing," she giggled.
"Well," he started, changing the topic abruptly. "Will someone miss you?"
"What?" was her confused reply.
"Any chance, um ...someone… comes looking for you?" he said, and again, the tone didn't match his very confident, very dashing looks.
"Eh?"
"To get us out of here?"
Ahh. She wanted to smack her head. For a moment there, Usagi had almost thought he'd done the cheesy, hidden 'do you have a boyfriend' line. Nevermind the fact she'd steeled herself to do just that right before the power went out, but anyway…
"Um, er... no. My roommate's out of town."
He exhaled in a way she really couldn't place. But then again, she was busy working up the nerve to repeat the cheesy, hidden question right back at him, if he had intended to or not in the first place.
"Um..." she started stuttering, glad the dim lighting of her phone, and the angle she held it, probably didn't allow her blush to be discernible, if he didn't have eyes like a bat. "What about you? Is... someone gonna come look for you?"
He shook his head, his mop of hair moving in a tantalizing swish. Her eyes must have been adjusting to the dark more than she'd thought, because suddenly, she could see him much clearer, and his eyes found hers for a moment. She sucked in a breath, entirely unintentionally.
His eyes were pretty damn intense on her.
And then her phone switched itself into sleep mode, and they were once again in the dark.
It was his turn to chuckle at the darkness, and she fumbled to put it back on, but the moment was gone. He wasn't looking at her any longer, but at the console instead, pulling out his own phone and shining it against the silver surface.
"Wait, you have a phone too?" she asked, a little dumbly, and shook her head again. Who didn't have a phone? Instead she corrected herself immediately, "What about your reception?!"
"I spend a lot of time here," he replied absentmindedly, running his fingers along the metal sign in front of him, following the characters of the information written there. "I know it never has reception, here. Reinforced, armored concrete walls."
Her eyebrows scrunched together slightly. "Well, why'd you make me check, then?"
He shrugged, shooting her a look briefly. "Well, what do I know? Maybe your phone reception is crazy good. Also, my battery is low."
Usagi huffed, and waited a little, until she tapped her foot. "Well?"
"Well, what?" he said in a rather monotone voice.
"Anything you can do, there?" Usagi gestured at the console.
He shook his head, and lifted himself by the shoulders, straightening up. He was rather tall… Way taller than her, anyway.
"I'd hoped for an emergency button, or something like that," he said.
She nodded, and he pushed at some button, studying some instructions that seemed to be on there.
Usagi couldn't help but admire the way that silky hair fell into his eyes as he read, his eyes squinting in the dark.
"So…um... is there?" she asked, a moment later.
"Hm?" he said, reading, pressing more buttons.
"Someone waiting for you… at home?"
That blush again, but ah well. She'd live… she guessed.
He chuckled this time. "No."
The look he threw her, straightening up completely, was entirely off-putting. A slow, twinkling smirk that reached his eyes in a way that make her tingle in places she'd been trying to ignore all day, whenever her eyes had sought him out.
He turned his back to the console, still looking at her that way, and Usagi had to clear her throat.
"Well... it could be worse, you know?" she said, flushed and awkward.
"How could it be worse?"
Goddammit, would he stop smiling like that?
Usagi cleared her throat again, but it didn't help. Her voice was raspy, when she started pouring out the first thing that came to her mind … never a good idea.
"You know, we could be hanging straight from the elevator shaft, me clinging to you as you barely have any grip, and tumble into our tragic, sad death."
He snorted at her. "Right. And how did we get into that particular predicament?"
She pressed her lips together, blushing even more. "Well, I don't know," she said, a bit embarrassed. Had she just expressed wanting to cling to him? "Maybe we are superheroes, falling into a trap. I was lured here under false pretenses, and you came to my rescue, and then the enemy bewitched the elevator, and we had to climb out, barely getting out, before the cubicle fell hurtling to the ground floor underneath us."
He laughed, shaking his head incredulously. "So, if you have super powers, why don't you use them to get us both out of here?"
She rolled her eyes. "Obviously, I wouldn't be that kind of superhero. I'd be more of a magical girl, duh," she said, giggling, gaining confidence. "Twirly, girly magical beams of light that make the world a better place."
She struck a pose, crossing one arm over the other pointing at him with her outstretched arm, as if she was doing a single finger gun, even when she winked at him.
"Ah," he chuckled, in a 'gotcha' kind of way, and Usagi beamed a toothy grin in his direction. She was starting to calm down in his presence. There were definitely worse things than being trapped in an elevator for a night with this guy.
"Plus," Usagi continued, holding her bag up triumphantly. "I have food. And stuff. At least we won't starve."
He raised an eyebrow. "We'd only be stuck till the morning."
"See?" she exclaimed. "My point exactly!"
He laughed at her, shaking his head, again, in the same way he did before, but it felt nice, strangely.
They fell into silence, for a little moment, and Usagi rummaged in her bag. This time, she didn't have to search long, and pulled the little rectangular piece of hard plastic out she was looking for, holding it out for him. "Here," she said.
The look he gave her was a little confused.
"My power bank," Usagi specified, shrugging, shaking it at him a little. "You said your battery was low?"
"Oh!" he said, his eyes surprised, reaching out. "Um… Thanks."
When he took it from her, their fingers brushed briefly, and Usagi reacted as if burned.
His eyes flicked to hers, concerned, even as she blushed again, and he rolled the little piece of tech in his hand, not doing anything.
Usagi's lips smacked involuntarily, when she realized he couldn't do anything with it, yet, she hadn't given him the cord. Diving back into her bag, she fished it out rather quickly, and with a blush grabbed the power bank from his grasp. Their hands brushed again, and her skin tingled where his had touched it, but she ignored it, as she connected it and handed it back.
He gave her a look. The kind he'd been giving her for the past few minutes, and it frustrated her that she really couldn't read it at all. It lingered a little, until he cleared his throat and connected the cord to his phone. It flared up with the rather bright loading screen, and they both seemed to realize at the same time that it seemed to suffice in lighting up the space enough to see somewhat clearly – at least their eyes met over it, and Usagi pocketed her own phone again, after he'd set their temporary light source on the floor.
...And her eyes DEFINITELY had adjusted to the lack of light, because she saw his bum in very clear detail, when he bent over in those very skinny jeans to do so.
She swallowed.
"So," he started, as he came back up, and she flicked her eyes back up to his face in a panic, afraid she'd been caught checking out his rear end, but he seemed to not have noticed.
"What brought you to Keio today, Odango Atama?"
She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "Creative," she remarked, in the most sarcastic tone she was capable of. Which, to be honest, didn't usually sound very sarcastic, but she tried.
His laugh was dry, his eyes were playful. "What, why?" he chuckled.
Usagi huffed, long and exaggerated. "Seriously," she said, "how does every single person see my hair and call me 'Odango'?"
His face sobered up immediately.
"What, other people call you that, too?" he asked, and his tone was almost offended, she thought, rather curiously.
And yeah, they did. Haruka, Seiya, only to name two of her friends… Not that they were the only ones. So she nodded, with a shrug.
He frowned.
"But I do have a name, you know?" she said, smiling. "Tsuk—"
"Tsukino Usagi," he interrupted her.
Usagi blinked, utterly surprised and taken aback. What?— How?—
He threw her a look that seemed almost panicked, and ran a hand through his hair, agitated.
"I just— I've seen you around, sometimes," he said, his voice suddenly very unsure.
What? But… Usagi looked at him more closely. Did she know him? Surely she would have remembered him, if she had met him before… wouldn't she? Or… He wasn't some creepy stalker, was he?
She lowered her eyes. "Um… have we met?"
He pressed his lips together, looked at the elevator wall, and not at her. "Not exactly."
She frowned.
"I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed you around," she blurted. How would she not? She'd practically stared at him all day. Her eyes had flown to him like magnetism every time he was anywhere near her field of vision.
His chuckle was dry, not very humorous. "Oh believe me, you didn't."
But he took her out of her misery, and supplied, quickly, afterwards, "I'm a friend of Motoki's."
Her eyes widened. He did know her! But how could she have never—
"I used to do papers and homework at the Crown a lot. You used to hang around the Crown with your friends? I usually sat at the counter, but we never interacted. Still," he said, shrugging apologetically, "you make a …distinct impression."
She blinked. But that was… she hadn't hung around the Crown for years. Not since she graduated from High School.
She quickly filed through her head. Every time she remembered at the Crown. Every party at Motoki's, those from longer back, and those only recently. And now that he said it… there had always been someone sitting there. Very off-putting green jacket, sometimes chatting with Motoki, always quiet. She'd never taken a second look. Could he—
And last year, Motoki's birthday party. A dim memory. Someone making fun of Motoki's terrible singing voice behind her, eerily handsome, when she'd been so drunk that everything had been so very fuzzy and amusing. That smile, when she'd turned around, but before she could talk to him, before she could even fully register it, Ami had—
Whining at Motoki that one time Unazuki invited her over for dinner at her place, when she'd complained about the male population of Tokyo, and he'd almost begged to fix her up with someone, and she'd declined politely.
I mean, you're complete opposites, I think, but… I think you'd like this friend of mine. He'd balance you out. He's seen you before, and last month at my party, he—
Motoki's voice rang in her ears. He'd talked at length, quite annoyingly even, about all the ways that guy was so responsible and conscientious. How he'd love to introduce her to—
"You're Chiba Mamoru," she said, almost absentmindedly, almost to herself.
This time it was him who looked surprised, but then he smiled.
"Yes," he said, shrugging. And then he stuck out his hand, his voice quiet, but still so very, very deep and intense.
"It's very nice to finally meet you, Tsukino Usagi."
Her stomach plummeted a little, when she took his hand in hers. Soft, warm skin, almost burning into her.
"Hi," she said, a little out of breath, a little flushed.
That smile returned. More a half smile, reaching his eyes in that little mischievous way.
"Hi," he replied, her hand still in his - too long, now - and it went straight to her knees.
It would be a very long night, yet.
So, as always, thanks need to go to my lovely beta,Uglygreenjacket, who puts up with the fact that I seem to have totally forgotten how to set commas since Yugen, and that I send her things to look over, like, the minute before Christmas. You're the best, love.
And,
Merry Christmas to you guys!
You make me the best Christmas present ever, if you leave me a review, and let me know what you think ;)