A / N : I think this is about the fastest update in Undercover's history. I'm slightly disheartened at the number of people left on this site. Or at just how long I've been writing here for, haha.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I love you all! Your comments really really inspire me, if not to write, then to at least move writing up a couple of notches on my priority list. So, please continue? It really helps with the creative process, haha.

Also, to the reviewer who asked what book this was based on: it's not based on a book (life would be so much easier if it was). This is me making it all up as I go along, haha.

ANYWAY.

I've waited six years to write this one. I think it's what everyone's been waiting for. So enjoy, patient ones.

WARNING. This chapter contains a good deal of mature content. Progress at own risk.

And enjoy!

r

p

Rika nodded, her probing gaze never leaving Syaoran, who felt slightly like he was being X-rayed.

"Thank you, Li Syaoran," Rika said, bobbing her head shortly in gratitude.

Syaoran nodded, his throat closing up oddly. He thought it funny how winning one stubborn person over had rendered him completely speechless. Then again, he'd just acquired the respect of Sasaki Rika, and he doubted that that happened very often.

r. x i : d

The next few days saw Syaoran attempting to tackle the mystery of uncovering the unidentified techie's identity with a renewed sense of determination. Having given up on hoping to eventually crack the database and extract the techie's details from there, he began to examine information trails, scouring the lines of communication to and from the tech department for any mention of Technician 17265262. The results of his search revealed to him the location of the computer terminal at which the unidentified technician would be stationed. Hypothetically.

Syaoran scanned the details of the location of the techie's computer terminal. According to the statistical output of his search, an overwhelming percentage of communication involving this particular technician either originated from or was directed to the computer terminal in question. It was located in one of the Informatics subsets of the tech department in the Tokyo Headquarter facilities.

His eyes narrowed.

This techie's located at Headquarters, he thought to himself bluntly. Not that security is any less tight there, but it's a classic vantage point to mount an infiltration. If that's what this techie's responsible for, that is.

Syaoran considered the information he had in his hands, and what he could possibly do with it. It was impossible for him to physically search the technician's computer terminal manually, what with him being miles away on a completely different continent. Would it be possible to perhaps glean some information about the technicians who worked at that particular facility? Or, even better, have someone perform a search of the technician's computer terminal, just to see if any suspicious or untoward information was, or had been, present?

All computer terminals in the tech department are hooked into the database, Syaoran remembered from his lessons in the Academy. So…if I hacked the master account, I could potentially search the techie's computer from here. There's no way the techie could have encrypted his computer without alerting anyone else. No way.

Fully confident of this new plan, he made his way back to the Commander penthouse complex, a glamourously comfortable and spacious apartment meant to accommodate up to four Field Commanders at once. It reminded him at once of the penthouse apartment that Meiden and Elden tended to inhabit in the Tokyo Headquarters, except it was more turn-of-the-nineteenth-century-European in design and décor than its Tokyo counterpart, which was rather modern and typical in ambience.

He slipped his shoes off, shrugged his jacket off and dumped it unceremoniously on the ground behind him as he made his way into the living room and flopped onto one of the quaint, cozy couches. His folder, containing what little information he could piece together about the mysterious techie, was placed carelessly on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Syaoran heaved a deep breath, closing his eyes and massaging a temple with one hand absently. It had been exactly one week since he had arrived in Dublin and in that time, he felt like he'd accomplished practically nothing. Apart from convince Rika and Dylan to join the CLA, which was a commendable feat, but not exactly a priority on his agenda. His search to get to the bottom of the sabotage of the London assignment was proving to be more and more difficult with each turn, his invisible quarry more elusive than he'd ever imagined possible. But he figured that he had a physical location to probe. His next step would be to look into how to access a terminal in a distant location. He might have to enlist help from the tech side, although he was wary of disclosing this supremely confidential information with anyone else at this tender stage in the proceedings. If only Sakura was around. He could have used her input, whether enlisting help from someone else at this step would be advisable or wise.

Thoughts of Sakura came to him unbidden. Images of her, lying unconscious in the medical facilities, her face drawn, pale and vulnerable. And other images too, less recent. Of the glowering, rebellious teenager she had been when they had first met, tossing her head casually while standing next to his kicked-in front door. The tightly-controlled line of her mouth, lips pressed together in heaviest concentration while she was thinking, or watching him in action. The same mouth, relaxed and spread into a small smile, eyes modestly downcast and cheeks tinged a faint dusky pink as he'd taken her hands in his, pulled her close to him and buried his head into her soft, fine hair, his mouth forming words against the fall of her tresses softly, slowly. The feel of her smooth skin under his fingertips, her light breathing a moist warmth tickling the crook of his neck, her petite body with its firmness and softness a perfect fit against his own. Sensations, of tenderness and caring and playful happiness and deep passion and the rush as he murmured three words into her ear as softly as he could while she slept next to him, their bodies intertwined and completely spent.

It had been so perfect, he reflected for the umpteenth time. Despite being a transgression of every rule the Associated had written up with regard to interactions between members, he had, for a very, very brief period of time, been happy. Truly happy, when he was with her. It was a happiness he'd never known before. Around her, he felt completely vulnerable and at the same time, confident like he'd never been before. She understood him and he understood her, and she was perfect for him and he was perfect for her…

He should have recognized that it was perhaps too good to be true. And like all good things, it had to come to an end. It was just unfortunate that the circumstances surrounding the failure of that mission had made it impossible for him to defend her, and that, for their own good, he'd had to feign complete indifference to her, and lie to her about everything they'd shared. It had hurt him to do that to her, but he knew that his cruelty was the only thing that could save them both. And he could only pray that if he crushed her then, she would have the strength to recover and move on and forget it had ever happened. As much as it hurt, it was what was best for the both of them. Because, in the end, they were what they were. And that couldn't be changed.

…if you can't handle a situation's consequences, then don't get into that situation in the first place.

Rika's words from earlier flashed into his mind, an unsettling reminder of the situation he had somehow ended up in again. Because as much as he tried to remind himself of the sickening feeling when he had lied to her and told her that he hadn't really loved her and seen her eyes widen – seen the hurt, the betrayal, the anguish, the rage, the engulfing wave of heartbreak and pain and loss welling in them – he couldn't forget the moments that pierced the bleakness, no matter how briefly. Hesitant touches. Kisses. Words exchanged that were at once empty and charged at the same time. The first time they'd made love. Hearing her say his name. His hands on her shoulders as he spun her around to show her how beautiful she'd looked in that breathtaking green dress, the ill-concealed fear in her face visible for him to see –

He buried his head in his hands, groaning.

Without a second thought, he had fallen for her. Again.

And even though this time they were older, and more careful, and more controlled – it didn't stop him from wanting her with him at that moment. Wishing she was there with him, wishing she was his, and all his. Wishing for a moment, that life had treated them differently, so that their very existences wouldn't have been intertwined in the fight between the Association and the danger posed by the Aconites. That they then wouldn't have to be part of the Association and subject to their stupid rules, but living a life of their choosing, to be free to do whatever the hell they wanted, to make their own choices, to be able to go out on a limb and risk everything for someone who meant the world to them –

The sound of the door opening startled him out of his reverie abruptly. His head snapped to the doorway of the living room, where, to his utter disbelief, a mercifully unharmed Sakura now was present, closing the door behind her, body and head turned away from him.

For a moment, it was as though everything had stopped. He couldn't move or think. Wave upon wave of relief crashed over him, rooting him to the spot.

She's okay…

She turned around and saw him sitting on the couch, his face shocked and wide eyes staunchly fixed on her.

He jumped to his feet, sensation returning to him as quickly as it had left. In the blink of an eye, he'd raced to where she stood, standing before her and staring at her searchingly.

"You're okay," he said quietly, breathing more quickly than usual. His eyes scanned her quickly, taking in every curve of her face, every feature and detail.

"You're okay," he repeated, more forcefully as his eyes registered no change, no permanent damage, nothing at all to indicate that Sakura had been in critical condition just the day before.

Sakura regarded Syaoran levelly, unable to hide the small smile that played about her lips at his reaction.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice not quite masking the laugh hidden in it.

Syaoran's arms shot out to grab her shoulders, holding her at arm's length from him, his eyes still unable to stop searching her face. God, he couldn't stop looking at her, couldn't believe the indescribable elation that filled every corner of him, the sheer relief he felt at knowing that she was okay.

"Thank God," he breathed. "You have no idea – I was – I thought – but it doesn't really – you're okay!"

"Yes," Sakura said with a nod. "We've established that."

"Right," Syaoran heard himself say. "We've established that."

Sakura stared at him quizzically.

"Li, is everything alright?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

Her query snapped Syaoran out of his daze.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, his mouth unusually dry. "Everything's fine. Just fine."

He let his arms drop to his sides and tore his gaze away from her face.

She gave him a searching look.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"Of course I'm sure," he retorted. "When did you come to? I was going to come see you –"

"Oh," Sakura said. "I regained consciousness yesterday. But they didn't let me leave till an hour ago. Rika and Dylan saw me out."

"Ah," was all Syaoran said. She came around yesterday. And nobody thought it was important to let me know. Bitches.

He didn't see Sakura examining the expression on his face amusedly.

"What've you been up to in the meantime?" she asked.

What have I been up to?

"Just investigating the London assignment," he said offhandedly. "We were betrayed, remember?"

She scrunched up her face, trying to think.

"Yeah, we were," she said at length. "Sorry – my recollection of that whole mission isn't fantastic."

"What do you mean?" Syaoran queried, alarm creeping into his voice.

"Just that –" Sakura struggled to explain. "I mean that the poison affected some parts of my memory. It's not that significant, I can remember most of it. Just small details are hard for me to remember."

"Oh."

Sakura threw him a funny look.

"Should we – sit down?"

Syaoran suddenly realized that they were still standing by the door, and that he was standing directly in her way.

"Yes! Yes, we should," he agreed, moving out of the way and letting her make her way to one of the couches.

She sat down on the largest one, eyes falling on the folder on the middle of the table.

"New assignment?" she asked slowly.

Syaoran made his way to sit next to her.

"Not really," he answered, picking it up and opening it up to show her its contents. "Just my research."

Sakura nodded, sifting through the pages of notes and printouts quickly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm trying to crack down on the person responsible for betraying us to Tsukiyune," Syaoran explained. "I identified the Technician who was responsible for covering our assignment."

"Well that's good," Sakura said. "Who is it?"

"I don't know," Syaoran replied. Feeling her blank gaze turn to him, he quickly began to elaborate upon the sheer frustration of his search: the dead ends, the strange facts and unanswered questions.

"This Technician tampered with my file?" Sakura repeated, her voice rising.

"Yes," Syaoran said grimly. "Well – the techie accessed your file at an unusual time, which suggests that he did so not under instructions but out of personal motivation. He accessed it before we'd even thought of bringing you back, so it's not like any of the Commanders would have asked to do a background check on you or something."

"That's really weird," Sakura commented with a frown. "But why did you say that the techie tampered with my file?"

"Well –" Syaoran paused, looking at her. Should he tell her? The topic of her family was sensitive news and it would likely only upset her. Then again, she had a right to know what was written in that file, true or not, no matter how upsetting it was…

"Tell me!"

"Fine." Syaoran's eyes locked onto Sakura's. "The details on your file had been changed to read that your family was still alive."

There was a stunned silence.

"What?" Sakura breathed, her face turning white.

"Yeah, that's what it said," Syaoran said quickly, not liking the way Sakura was reacting. "That your father, mother and brother were alive. But – but that's obviously wrong, isn't it?"

"It's impossible," Sakura spat, eyes blazing. "What kind of sick joke is that? My whole family was murdered by the Aconites. Everyone in this blasted Association knows that."

"That's exactly what I thought," Syaoran said. "I'd – I'd show you if you want to see it –"

"I don't want to see it," Sakura said darkly. "That's just too cruel. Why didn't you change what the file said?"

"I –" Syaoran faltered at the stony expression on her face. "I didn't want to, without letting you know at least –"

"Thanks for the consideration," Sakura said with a small smile. "But you should change it. Please?"

Syaoran met her eyes.

"I will," he promised, his voice soft.

She nodded.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her voice suddenly hoarse.

Syaoran smiled a smile different from his trademark smirk. It had been a long time since Sakura had seen a real smile on his face. It lit up his face, bringing out something in him that made him positively shine.

"Anything for you," he replied, his voice softer than a whisper.

There was a change in the atmosphere, as neither Sakura nor Syaoran continued their discussion. Instead, they simply sat there, so close to each other on that couch, and stared at each other, as though seeing for the first time.

Syaoran was very aware of the disconnect between his body and his mind, very aware of his heart drumming in his chest faster and then faster still. His eyes ceased their roving around her face and settled on her eyes.

Sakura cleared her throat, trying to break free of his burning gaze but couldn't. She swallowed quickly, recognizing the quick heightening of emotions, the building of a tension so great, it would soon be uncontrollable.

She spoke, trying to battle the silence.

"Soyoufoundoutthatmyfilewas–"

"Shh." Syaoran shushed her frenetic outpour of words, putting a finger against her lips gently. She silenced immediately, the laugh in her eyes slowly replacing itself with something else, such that when their eyes met, the expression in them matched, and the message in each read the same thing.

Slowly, so slowly, he removed his hand from her lips, and placed it on her thigh. She inhaled slowly, unevenly, her easy confidence fading to a trembling nervousness. Her lips parted slightly, revealing a glimmer of white teeth.

But Syaoran's eyes still held her own. Still held her gaze as he leaned in closer, until their faces were about a foot apart. His hand was still resting on her thigh, a delicate warm reassuring weight on her soft flesh.

She breathed in sharply, her eyes searching his face for an explanation, willing him to say something. Anything.

His face inched closer to hers, he was slowly leaning into her, closing the distance so slowly, but so deliberately. His other hand came to rest gently next to his other hand soft on her thigh.

Their noses touched and they both froze. Sakura didn't want to breathe and Syaoran – Syaoran couldn't.

Their eyes searched each other hesitantly. Sakura's timid gaze was fixed on Syaoran's mouth, so, so close to her own. She could feel the warm bursts of air break upon the skin of her cheeks whenever he fought to expel controlled exhale after controlled exhale.

Syaoran's eyes travelled from her eyes to her mouth, small, open slightly, lips chapped and dry from her time in the hospital. He watched, as though entranced, by the slight motions her lips made as she breathed in and out. As she pressed them together and licked them quickly when her lips were too dry, or when she was nervous. Or both.

She tried to speak again.

"S – I – "

"Shh," he shushed her again, resting his forehead against her own, feeling the small tremours that coursed through her form. His own breathing was so shaky, he was afraid to breathe at all.

Her eyes were still fixed on him, wide and fearful. Wondering what he meant, why he was doing this, whether he would actually –

And then she could wonder little else, as he slowly let his lips descend upon hers. Grazing slightly against them at first, before resting on hers in what was a butterfly-light but unmistakable kiss.

She could feel him trembling too, before he removed his lips from her own, pausing to search the expression in her face for any form of protest, argument, question, resistance…

And when he saw none, saw nothing but the uncertainty in every inch of her face, so excruciatingly close to his, he inhaled slowly before touching his lips to hers again, slightly firmer but still so, so gentle.

Sakura let out a small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a hum as he pulled away again, for a fraction of a moment before he pressed another kiss to her lips, this one firmer than either of its predecessors. His hands skimmed the length of her legs, finding her hands on either side of her and closing around them before intertwining his fingers in hers.

She closed her eyes, a shaky exhale coming out through her nostrils as he slowly increased the pressure against her mouth, sucking gently at her bottom lip. She hummed again in contentment, as his hands left her own to encircle her waist firmly.

He broke away again, moving away so that they were nose-to-nose again. She opened her eyes and met his, glazed over with tenderness and affection and desire. The expression on his face was so soft and so caring, it made her weak at the knees a little.

This time, when he pressed his mouth against hers, she yielded straightaway, tilting her head back to let him nibble her bottom lip playfully. Her hands travelled from her sides up, up, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers gently placed against the sensitive back of his neck.

She felt him change the pressure of the kiss, first soft and gentle, then firm, then back to soft as a feather's touch. Her hands moved further up, raking into his thick hair to tangle her fingers in the tousled locks. She heard him make a sound before his hands moved from her waist to her face, thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, as though memorizing every detail about their texture and curvature. His lips gradually parted hers, the heat and moisture of her mouth blissful against the deliberate movements of his.

Sakura tilted her head back further. His hands moved back down to her waist, pulling her even closer to him as his tongue ran along the slightly roughened texture of her lip.

She felt a slight shudder course through her body as another sound tore itself from her throat. She could feel him slowly tasting the inside of her mouth, touching and caressing the hot wetness. Felt his tongue meet hers, touch and interweave and part, over and over again, the sensation sending something like fire coursing through her veins.

His hands, firm at her waist, moved to graze over her hips, before skimming over her arms to hold her shoulders with a firmness that had been entirely absent in his earlier gentle motions.

They broke away, gasping for breath, their chests heaving up and down as they panted in unison.

This time, it was Sakura who closed the distance between them and kissed Syaoran, opening his mouth with hers and tangling her tongue with his with an insistency and an urgency that had not been there before.

As if her response had been all he was waiting for, Syaoran met her kiss with equal force, his fingers tightening on her shoulders in a grip that would leave bruises on her pearly white skin.

It was like a battle, as they sat there and kissed each other furiously, lips, teeth and tongues meeting and clashing in a frenzy of pent-up frustration and long-suppressed passion, releasing in a dizzyingly building rush. It was frenetic and urgent and explosive, as excitement warred with desire, passion with arousal and need, as jolts of electricity sparked from everywhere they touched.

Her fingers tangled themselves into his hair even further, pulling and playing with the thick brown mess, as his hands travelled the edges of the straps of the simple white dress she wore, skimming over the straps and the fabric forming the back of her dress, before reaching the bow at the back of her waist. She stiffened slightly as she felt his fingers pull at the twin ribbons lazily, until the bow had completely come undone.

Without parting his mouth from hers, he shifted his weight onto hers, pushing on her until they were lying lengthwise on the couch. His form was soundly on top of hers, his hands planted on either side of her face as he propped himself up, tearing his mouth from hers to look at her flushed face. There was a small smile on his face as his darkened eyes took in her heavily-lidded eyes, parted mouth, hair strewn in a mess all around her…

His smile turned into a smirk as her winded expression turned into a defensive one.

"Don't laugh at me because I look like a mess," she warned him, her voice tight and husky and very quiet.

He chuckled, shaking his head a little.

"Don't worry," he murmured, brushing his lips over hers softly once, then twice. "Don't-" he paused to kiss the corner of her mouth, "-you-" he kissed her jawline, "-ever-" kissed the spot where jawbone turned into neck.

"-worry – about – that," he finished, punctuating each word with gentle but sharp kisses trailing down her neck.

He could feel rather than hear Sakura's shuddering intake of breath as he planted a firm kiss against the hollow of her throat. When she let out that small humming sound she usually made when she was pleased, he felt her skin beneath his lips vibrate gently.

He planted little kisses further down her neck, and then across her collarbone. He slowed his pace, pausing to suckle gently and, in some occasions, gently nip at the sensitive skin. He was rewarded by her small yelps, feeling the jolts rack through her body, pinned underneath his.

"Why not?" Sakura asked breathlessly, fighting for the effort to speak. "Why shouldn't I worry?"

Syaoran moved from her collarbone, climbing back so that his face was level with hers, his mouth inches away from her ear.

"Because," he said simply, his voice a deep vibrating quell of almost-painful quiet. His mouth moved close, close, so that it was right next to her ear, so that she could feel the expulsion of hot air as he spoke, "you're fucking beautiful, that's why."

Before she could reply, his mouth had already met the skin below her ear, and had resumed pressing a succession of gentle butterfly kisses back down the side of her neck.

Sakura, inhaling and exhaling sharply as her body moved subtly in response to the touch of his lips, let a smile play about her lips.

"You really – ah! –" she broke her sentence with a sharp yelp as Syaoran bit down forcefully somewhere near the rounded swell of her chest, soothing the area with a gentle swirling of his tongue, "-think so?" she finished weakly, breaths turned uneven as his tongue circled lazily around the impressions left behind by his teeth.

Syaoran paused, an exasperated look crossing his face briefly before he raised his head to lock his eyes onto Sakura's.

"Yes," he said seriously. "Yes, I do."

This time, Sakura couldn't stop the redness from flowing embarrassingly quickly to her cheeks. Luckily for her, Syaoran didn't notice the giant blush spreading across her face, because he turned his attention back to her neck, lazily tracing with his tongue the outline of the teeth marks he had created earlier. Suckling at the heated flesh gently at first, and then more and more and more forcefully, until –

She let out a moan, soft and strangled, half of it lost in the swell of her lips. But the sound was like music to Syaoran's ears, as he smiled into the curve of her shoulder and trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses there. His hands came to rest on her shoulders, holding them firmly and then gently, massaging the tension out in a slow deliberation.

Sakura inhaled deeply, shakily, the significant rise of her chest evident to Syaoran, who moved his head back to face her once again. He let his heavy-lidded eyes take in the sight of her, eyes closed and head thrown back a little, heavy deep breaths coming in and out of her slackened mouth. A smile broke across his mouth briefly before he kissed her lips again, his hands still kneading knots out of her shoulders.

She tilted her head back still further, letting him take the inside of her mouth completely. The tension in her shoulders slackened as all stiffness evaporated from her body. She was completely pliant in his hands. Completely his.

His hands moved while his mouth still worked hers. She could feel his palms moving across the slope of her shoulders, down the length of her arms to rest at her hips briefly. She bit down on his lip and she felt his fingers dig into her hips sharply in response. Then, his hands moved from her hips to underneath her, resting against the small of her back, where the bow he'd undone had once been.

She felt his fingers trace the chain of the zipper on the back of the dress, moving up, up, up from the small of her back to somewhere in the middle of her shoulder blades. He fingered the small zipper, trying to get a hold on it before pulling down on it sharply.

The harsh sound of metal unzipping metal filled the air. Sakura's eyes shot open as Syaoran stopped kissing her and opened his eyes, turning his smouldering gaze onto her seriously.

He spoke softly.

"Can I?"

His words hung on the air. Sakura's eyes widened, but he simply stayed there, unmoving, hand still on the zipper of her barely unzipped dress, eyes seeking permission, his motions at a halt until permitted to move onward.

That was one of the things she loved about Syaoran. Whatever it was – he would never do anything serious without her permission. He always asked for permission. Always.

She found it ridiculously cute. And found herself at once agitated and relieved at being presented with the choice. But it wasn't a choice. Not now.

She nodded quickly and the serious expression on Syaoran's face melted into something softer but still as intense. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she felt him slowly pull the zipper down its chain, unzipping the dress fully.

Her mouth suddenly went dry as his hands moved from her back to the straps of her dress. They lingered on the thick sleeveless straps momentarily. Sakura could feel him hesitating, and opened her eyes to find Syaoran staring at her face questioningly.

"It's okay," she assured him, her voice barely audible.

The question disappeared from his features as he pulled first at one strap, then at the other. Across the line of her shoulder, then off, then along the line of her arms – Sakura moved them, making it easier for him to slide them off her hands – before slowly pulling the bodice down, down, down to pool at her waist.

Sakura licked her dry lips nervously, feeling a tightening sensation near her stomach as Syaoran raked his eyes over her upper body, bare except for her breasts, held in place by a scant, lacy black bra.

He made to move, but Sakura spoke first.

"Wait."

He froze, raising an eyebrow, as she sat up, hands coming to undo the buttons of his short-sleeved shirt one by one and smoothly sliding the garment off of him. His eyes were focused on her playful ones as she tossed the shirt aside nonchalantly, leaving him shirtless.

"Now it's fair," she murmured, running her hands along the line of his toned, well-built shoulders and arms.

He smirked.

"If you say so."

He shifted his weight again, pressing his face into the rounded swell of her breasts, spilling out the top of her bra. His hands closed around hers, bringing them up from her sides to rest beside her on either side of her face. He intertwined his fingers in hers, squeezing firmly as though saying that he never wanted to let go.

She drew in a ragged breath as she felt his lips touch the skin of her breast, gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. Another yelp left her mouth as he pressed his teeth into the soft mound, again…and again…and again…

Syaoran heard her moan louder this time, dragged out over the hoarse tightness of her throat. He licked the offended area, gently at first, and then with increasing pressure, relishing the slightly salty bite of her skin. Underneath him, Sakura drew in a quivering breath, pressing her rounded breasts deeper into his mouth.

Dipping into the hollow between her breasts and dragging a tantalizing lick there, Syaoran paused, tilting his head upward to see the expression on Sakura's face. Pleased at what he saw, he continued pressing lick after kiss after bite to whatever flesh was free of the confines of her bra. Letting her hands go, he trailed his hands from his shoulders down to rest firmly over the cups of her bra, before squeezing the soft mounds hard.

She cried out, arching her back abruptly. His hands were warm over the lacy fabric, she could feel their warmth through her bra. He squeezed again, softly this time, and in greater succession, caressing them, kneading them, all the while contributing to the building of the suffocating tension forming somewhere below her stomach.

His hands slowed and came to a still, before removing themselves from the rising and falling swell of her breast and moving down to caress the flatness of her stomach. His palms were smooth over the lines of faint abdominal muscles, a flat valley punctuated by her sharply protruding hip bones.

He lowered his head, lips tracing a line down the centre of her stomach, coming to a rest at her navel. She was shivering now as she felt him drop a slow succession of soft wet kisses all over her stomach, his hands stroking her sides up and down lazily. The tension in her gut intensified, turning into something fiery and pulsating. She let out another sharp sound as he gently bit her sides, nibbling here and there, covering the entire area with playful bites and kisses. Her hands found his shoulders and her fingers dug in forcefully with every movement he made.

She pulled him back up, so that his face hovered over hers, toned chest pressed heavily against her own. She placed her hands on his face, pulling him into a fiery kiss, enjoying the way it felt when their bare skin made contact, or the feel of his muscled arms holding her tightly. Tired of being the pliant one, she tried to flip him over to his side.

Unfortunately, the couch wasn't wide enough to accommodate this motion. The result of her action was that both of them tumbled off the couch, landing in a heap on the carpeted floor below.

Syaoran groaned.

"What was that for?" he asked, scowling.

Sakura had landed on top of him, her face inches from his, her loose hair curtaining their faces in soft strands.

"Sorry," she whispered, kissing him apologetically.

Whatever annoyance he'd felt toward her evaporated in an instant as his arms closed around her waist, hands travelling up the smooth expanse of her back, touching and stroking tenderly. He could hear her soft hums even as her lips left his, to trace small butterfly kisses along his jawline.

His fingers found the clasp of her bra and swiftly undid it in a quick, bold movement.

He felt her freeze above him as, his eyes meeting hers, he slid the insubstantial undergarment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground beside them.

She closed her eyes as he raised himself up slightly to trail a path of kisses down her throat and then along the circles of her rounded breasts. She arched above him, sighing as she felt his hot mouth make its way to close around a hardened nipple –

The next thing she knew, he'd tightened his grip on her waist and flipped her over, so that he was on top again. There was no room in her mind to protest, however. Syaoran knew what he was doing all too well, and it was driving her wild.

His other hand came to close over her other breast, fingers stroking the hardened nipple softly at first, and then harder, kneading the sensitive mound as forcefully as he could –

"Syaoran…"

Sakura was astonished at how easily his name rolled off her tongue, or how long it had been since she'd said his name so informally. She could feel him smirking into her soft breast, and knew that thoughts of a similar nature were running through his head too.

She tilted her head, gazing at his head buried in the rise of her breast, astonished to see his half-closed, darkened eyes resting on hers. The pulsing feeling in her stomach was spreading, turning into a jolt as their eyes met. It intensified as she watched him switch to her other breast and take her into his mouth slowly and deliberately. Then, she couldn't keep her eyes open as she felt him suck and bite and pull with well-practiced ease. Shudders coursed through her entire body as moan after moan rolled off her tongue. His motions were just forceful enough to create this amazing tension in every part of her body, to pleasure so much, it almost hurt – and he wasn't stopping –

Syaoran turned his glinting eyes on her flushed face as he felt her quake uncontrollably beneath him. Pausing to gently blow on the heated skin, and hearing Sakura's responding gasp with satisfaction, he then proceeded to trail small bites and kisses along the underside of both her breasts, and along the valley between them. His hands moved lower, back to her stomach and then to her hips, stroking and kneading the sensitive skin there.

"Oh…"

He smirked again, his ministrations becoming more deliberate, more vigourous, feeling her body stiffen and relax in succession, and her moans grow higher and higher in pitch, and her head turning from side to side, struggling to maintain some sense of control but it was so difficult –

One of his hands moved lower, to the part of her legs, and boldly, he ran his fingers over the dampening fabric of her panties roughly.

She cried out hoarsely at the feeling of him stroking her there so confidently, knowing exactly how to make her respond with the least effort – oh…

She whispered his name through a dry throat, spent with the effort of trying to hold herself together when his every motion was driving her completely over the edge. She was starting to see stars behind closed eyelids, not even bothering to hold her rising moans back anymore, his name rolling off her tongue over and over again as his hands continued to move insistently, faster and faster, his tongue and teeth trailing hungrily all over her chest and her stomach, marking her entire body as his –

It was no great laughing matter for her when he suddenly stopped, hands reaching for the dress still pooled at her waist and making as though to slide it off of her completely.

"Can I?" he whispered again.

Sakura was still breathing heavily and moving about agitatedly, trying to control the newly building heat between her legs and in her stomach. She didn't even open her eyes, just raised her hips off the ground in an effort to make the removal of her dress as easy for him as possible.

I'll take that as a yes, he thought to himself, sliding the dress over her hips, along her legs and then discarded it somewhere near her legs.

Sakura breathed unevenly, shifting uncomfortably, trying to ease the throbbing ache that had centralized between her legs under his touch. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt like this, the last time anyone had been able to stir up so much with their touch.

One of his hands pressed down on top of her panties, fingers toying with the elastic band at its waist. The feel of his fingers brushing against her skin in that area was like – was like –

"Is it okay if I –"

Sakura didn't even let him finish his question this time.

"If you ask me that one more time, I'm just going to have my way with you myself," she bit out in frustration.

His lips quirked upward as he chuckled lightly, shaking his head. So feisty…

Without another word, he pushed the fabric of her panties aside and ran his fingers along the throbbing, heated, heavily-moistening folds slowly, circling around the edge of her wet entrance and trailing up to delicately stroke her hardening, swollen nub –

She sucked in her breath through her teeth harshly, her hips bucking upward, trying to alleviate some of the ache building in her. She needed him so much…

But he was taking his own time, as his fingers gently pushed against that most sensitive part of her, pushing and circling and flicking in a building of teasing motions –

"Syaoran, please," she heard herself cry as the feeling of his fingers on her became too much for her to handle. She was throbbing, pulsing, quivering with need, and she needed him in her – so badly.

As if in response, she felt him plunge a finger into her uncomfortably wet entrance, felt him crook his finger and rub a spot whose location only he seemed to ever be able to find –

"Fuck," she hissed out, as a wave of pleasure splintered over her. She felt him add another finger – and then another – as he pushed them in and out of her, managing to graze that beautifully responsive hypersensitive spot each – beautiful – time –

He inhaled sharply as he felt her walls tighten around his fingers, arousing a need deep within him. Just the feeling of her around his fingers – so hot and moist and so fucking tight – it was enough to make him consider dropping everything and just taking her fast and hard right then and there.

She let out a small scream of frustration as she felt him remove his hands from her before letting her finish.

I am going to kill that man, she thought explosively, as the heightened arousal in her nether regions caused her to throb more.

His fingers slid under the elastic waist of her panties and dragged them over her hips, down her legs and carelessly flung them away somewhere. They landed in a heap on top of the couch.

Sakura was about to flip him over and satisfy her need on him herself, but then he did something that made her stop thinking altogether. Settling himself between her legs, he placed his hands on her inner thighs keeping her legs splayed wide apart. Then, his eyes still fixed on her shocked ones, he lowered his head and ran his tongue roughly over her painfully shuddering core.

"Ohh…" he heard her moan resonate, as though it originated from her core. Her hands found his head, and her fingers tangled themselves into his hair sharply, her fists clenching tightly with every excruciating lick he took. He closed his eyes, savouring the slightly sour tang of her on his tongue. His hands traced patterns softly on her inner thighs, his tongue circled her entrance, circling it but never getting close to it – he could feel her bucking her hips up in response.

"Please…" he heard her say, her voice reduced to a sigh, pitiful against his ears.

He complied, sitting up, undoing his belt and fumbling with the zipper on his pants. Sakura opened her eyes at the sound of his zipper undoing and watching him struggle to kick his pants off. She eyed his boxers, sat up, and pulled them off of him impatiently.

"Wait," she whispered, eyes fixed on his freed member, standing up in arousal and need. "Do you have a –"

"Fuck!" Syaoran swore viciously, reaching for his pants and searching the pockets frantically.

Sakura tried to think of where else they could find one, sitting there uncomfortably cross-legged, trying to ease the pounding need at her core. If he didn't have one…

"Got it!" Syaoran said, extracting a small square plastic package from his pocket.

Sakura eyed him in a predatory manner as he ripped it open and slid the rubber over his enlarged member.

"About time," she muttered, not even waiting for him to reposition himself. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him on top of her, arranging her legs around his waist as he positioned himself at her quivering entrance and thrust.

She cried out, completely forgetting how large he was, how his member completely stretched her walls. The straining friction hurt but she didn't even care, as long as she could feel him pulsing against her throbbing walls.

He began to move, slowly, pounding a slow rhythm that resonated throughout their bodies. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling his body still closer to hers. His hands moved from her hips up her sides, pulling her hands off of his shoulders. He pushed them up to rest by her face and intertwined his fingers in hers again, covering her mouth with his as he increased his rhythm.

She repositioned her legs, resting them on his shoulders as he thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside her again – and again – The pulsing heat inside her was building, heightening to a tension that couldn't break –

She felt his fingers tighten around hers as he sped up his pace, faster and faster still. Gone was the slow deliberation of his every earlier move. Gone was the languid, almost lazy pace with which he had explored her body. He was pounding into her with a frenzied sort of desperation, a long-suppressed need for her that just had to be released, an addiction for the way her body responded to his, for the way she stretched to accommodate him, for the way she screamed and shook whenever he hit that spot inside her hard enough –

And still he thrust harder – and harder – hearing her screams go higher and higher in pitch, and hoarser and hoarser in texture. Her walls around him were tightening uncontrollably, tightening and throbbing in a way that made him sure that –

Syaoran pushed in and out once more. And then once more. And then he slammed himself into her one – more – time –

His name exploded from her lips as her entire body convulsed, her walls fluttering about his length, propelling him to reach his climax too. He cried out, collapsing onto her, fulfilled. He felt aftershock after aftershock pulse through her body underneath him, as their heart rates gradually slowed, and their breathing went from short and labored to normal.

And finally, when his eyes returned to their natural amber instead of the lust-filled unnaturally dark colour they had been, and her form had stopped shaking and quivering, he pulled himself out of her and rolled off of her, while simultaneously pulling her weight on top of him and wrapping his arms around her slim naked waist.

She smiled at him before burying her face into the crook of his neck. The feeling of the hard lines of his body, solid beneath hers, and the sound of his slow, even breathing, and the soft strokes of his fingers gently running through her hair, lulled her into a sleep more relaxing than any she'd had in the last – oh – eight years or so.

The sound of the mail alert on the Commanders' computer terminal in the next room pierced through the hazy slumber that enveloped the two of them. It was a series of high-pitched, keening beeps, rising in volume until it was acknowledged.

Syaoran woke first, pressing his eyes shut more tightly in protest. As though mocking him, the beeps just got louder and louder.

He cracked an eye open, to find himself still on the carpeted ground between the couch and the coffee table, completely naked and with an equally naked Sakura soundly asleep on his chest. Strewn haphazardly all around them were their clothes.

The beeping rose in volume, its harsh tones feeling like they were drilling a hole into the base of his skull.

Just shut the fuck up already, he thought irritably, but to no avail. He sighed, glancing at the woman slumbering peacefully on his chest, her slumber completely undisturbed by the goddamned beeping thing.

He moved his hands from her back to her shoulders.

"Sakura?" he said quietly, forcing the name through his lips and realizing just how long it had been since he'd called her by her real name.

He shook her gently, trying to wake her.

"Sakura, wake up."

She groaned, shaking her head and snuggling her face deeper into his chest.

"Sakura, I need to get up and shut that thing off."

Her hands tightened around his shoulders briefly before slackening and then dropping to his chest. Slowly, she raised herself up, her face meeting his. They stared at each other for a few long moments, as though considering the weight of their bold actions earlier for the first time with a sane mind. Then, she swung herself off of him and he rose, getting to his feet unsteadily and stretching briefly. He then walked over to the adjoining room, attended to the computer, and finally, turned the infernal beeping noises off.

The following silence was deafening.

He made his way back into the living room. Sakura was now sitting up on her knees, a strange look on her face. There was a look in her eyes that said that she was going to cry.

As she heard his approaching footsteps, she shook her head quickly, as though clearing it of whatever dark images were haunting her there. She began to scan the area around her for her clothes, finding her bra crumpled on the ground not too far from where her hand was.

He sat down next to her, his brief euphoria vanishing at the fallen look on her face.

"What's up?" he asked, as lightly as he could.

She paused for a minute, before she started to put her bra back on.

"Nothing," she said, her words completely contradicted by the heaviness in her voice.

Syaoran sighed.

"Sakura, what's wrong?" When she didn't answer, he felt something like panic beginning to well inside him. "Please tell me what's wrong."

She finished hooking the clasp around her back and turned around to face him.

"What's wrong?" she repeated dully. "After everything we – don't you understand – oh, just forget about it…"

She turned away and found her dress, turned inside-out and crumpled in a heap.

Syaoran reached it first, picking it up and handing it to her. She accepted it without meeting his eyes. His searching gaze was able to detect the beginnings of tears swimming in her unfocused eyes.

He seated himself directly in front of her, cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her face to meet his.

"Tell me," he repeated softly, his eyes warm and filled with concern.

Her eyes met his for a few brief moments before she turned her gaze lower.

"I –"

She was lost for words. It was like – it was like everything had spiraled out of control and gone places she hadn't even considered before she had fully been able to accept it. In the moment, when everything was all about the present and there had been nothing else in the world but him and her and everything between them had just felt so amazing and so right, it had been easy to say yes. But facing the consequences of a mistake she'd had the foolhardiness to repeat…it terrified her. And of course, she was furious with herself, for falling for it again. For yielding to him again, when he'd completely betrayed her the first time around.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid them of the tears that threatened to spill over. When she opened them again, she felt a moment of calm settle over her and she snatched at it.

"It doesn't matter," she forced herself to say, forcing herself to raise her gaze to meet his now-shocked eyes and lift her voice to a falsely indifferent tone. "I mean – well, whatever happened – happened – and that's it. Nothing I do or say can change that."

Syaoran's eyebrows knit together as he struggled to piece together her words, to understand what was going on in her head.

"Wait, what?" he asked incredulously, feeling his face heat up. He leaned in closer to her, searching her face for some clue. Alarm suddenly hit him. "Are you saying that you didn't want to?"

"No, I wanted to –" Sakura began, then faltered, turning an alarming shade of red.

"Then what's the problem?" Syaoran pressed.

She pressed her eyes closed again.

"It's just –" She inhaled sharply before opening her eyes and meeting his eyes, her jaw set firmly. "That's all there really can be to it. And it…kind of sucks."

Her words echoed in the air blankly in the subdued pause that followed. Hearing no response from him, she made to turn away.

Syaoran cupped her face between both palms and forced her to look at him again, before she could make an easy escape.

"And what do you mean by that's all there really can be to it?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Oh for God's sakes, Syaoran!" Sakura spat out, closing her hands over his and pulling them off of her face viciously. "Look at us! We're the highest ranking members of an Association that would kill us if they found out that we were involved with each other even in the slightest! I don't even want to know what'd happen if they found out about what we just did! Do you – don't – don't look at me like that –" she said quickly, her tone turning to a warning at the look of sheer disbelief that Syaoran was throwing at her at the moment, "-you know that I'm telling the truth – and how can you even consider – consider – ugh, just forget it…"

Syaoran felt his mouth go dry as her words settled over him like some sort of ominous thundercloud.

"Are you trying to say that – that –" His words were fumbling, he couldn't believe what she was implying. "Why don't you come out with it and say it already?"

Sakura ran her hands through her hair agitatedly before letting them fall on top of her thighs. Wisps of her hair settled haphazardly, framing her face in an unkempt but not unflattering manner.

"What I'm saying is that," she started in measured tones, her voice reasonable but still shaking, "I – I don't appreciate you stirring everything up again when we'd both let go. I don't see any reason for it, not at all –"

"Stirring everything up?"

Sakura didn't reply, just blew an offending strand of hair out of her eyes and setting her mouth obstinately.

Syaoran, however, would have his say.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" he demanded, trying to elicit some kind of response in her disconnected demeanour. "There was no letting go involved – well – not on my part, anyway."

His words seemed to ring in the air. It seemed like an eternity before Sakura moved, her eyes rising to meet his, shock written in them.

"What?"

He swallowed, but pressed on with grim-faced determination.

"I like you," he said simply, words coming to him in a rush, words that he'd taught himself to suppress for so long, words that were finally, finally being said out loud. "I've always liked you. And – and I know I've made life hell for you – especially with what happened last time, I know, I was a complete asshole and I fucked things up royally that time and you have every right to hate me for it, but – I hope you understand that I was only doing it for … well, there's no point in justifying it now, I guess – but I just want you to understand that whatever happened – whatever's happening – it's not just me stirring up shit for kicks, I mean it, Sakura…"

She opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, completely taken aback at his confession. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes again and when she opened them, Syaoran saw in them for the first time, the sheer vulnerability of the heartbroken seventeen-year-old that had endured in her for the last several years.

"Please don't say that," she struggled to say finally, and he could hear the tears threatening to spill from the telltale quake of her voice. "I – I know what you must be feeling, but – but what you're trying to say – what you're suggesting is impossible. You know that, you remember what happened last time. And – and I have no reason to see why it'd be different this time."

"Because," Syaoran fought to think of something, anything, that he could use in his defense, "because we learned, didn't we? We're experienced, we've matured, we're adults for crying out loud!"

"So?" Sakura was unmoved. "That changes nothing. Look at what we are. Look at what we've fought and lost and thrown away just to be what we are now. You can't say that being a Field Commander doesn't mean anything to you, because it sure as hell means something to me. And – and I just don't see either of us wanting to throw it away for – for –"

"For an unsure bet?" Syaoran finished for her wryly.

Sakura nodded, biting her lip to stop it from quivering.

"Because it'll always make us wonder," Syaoran said at length, after a good deal of thought. "As it is, we're a lost cause. Well, unless – unless you feel nothing –"

"That's not it," Sakura said quietly. "I do like you, it's never been a big secret, though I never really wanted to admit that –"

"Then you'll understand what I mean when I say that forgetting about it and moving on is a pretty useless course of action," Syaoran interrupted. "I mean, if it's been, what, seven years, and we're still stuck in the same damn place –"

"Well, it'd have never happened if we'd just kept our distance from each other," Sakura pointed out. "We were perfectly in control of ourselves throughout the entire London assignment."

"Were we, though?" Syaoran challenged her, a new fire burning in his eyes. "Can you look me in the eye and tell me that for the entirety of the mission, for not one moment were you out of complete control of yourself?"

Her silence was the answer he needed.

"Exactly," he finished for her. "So don't go around denying everything –"

"I'm not denying anything," Sakura spat out, the tears finally spilling from her eyes. "Stop giving me all this shit when I'm just trying to be realistic, goddamnit! Because one of us has got to be!"

Syaoran swore under his breath, feeling the helplessness sink in as she sat there, eyes downcast and tears trailing erratic saltwater paths down the lines of her face.

He reached out, to brush away the tears with his thumbs slowly, tenderly.

She took a shuddering breath in, before starting to cry altogether.

Almost immediately, she felt his arms close around her protectively. She didn't even object, just buried her face into the hard planes of his chest and let herself cry there. His hand was stroking a reassuring motion up and down her back, not seductive but comforting instead.

"I know you're going to hate me for saying this," she managed to choke out at length. "But even suggesting that our – our being involved with each other has the potential to go somewhere is just – it's just too cruel, Syaoran. Please don't ever say it. What happened between us earlier was a mistake – one that I'm sure we both enjoyed a lot – but a mistake nonetheless. And it would really be in our best interests if we just forgot about it."

Syaoran's mouth pressed in a grim line as he took in her words, shaking and forced out as though filled with a poison. On one hand, her words made sense, practically and logically speaking. If the two of them could just swallow what they felt and get on with their lives, it would definitely be in their best interests. There would be no need to feel at risk, no need to hide anything, no need to worry for their lives…

But for some reason, the thought of it made him feel sick. He didn't understand why, where all these powerful feelings were coming from. A week ago, he would have been able to control himself in front of Sakura. Now, for some reason, he couldn't.

His hand moved from her back to her shoulder and then touched her face gently.

"Sakura, look at me."

It took her a few moments to steady herself before she obliged, meeting his serious amber eyes with her watery green ones.

"That's good. Now, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly."

Sakura nodded, her short shuddering breaths starting to steady.

"What do you want?" Syaoran asked. "Forget about the Association and their stupid rules, forget about what everyone will think if they find out. J–just forget about the world for a minute and tell me what you want."

Sakura gaped at him. His words sounded so familiar, she could have sworn she'd been asked something of the sort not too long ago. There was an unsettling sense of déjà vu about the whole situation, but she really couldn't put her finger on it.

"I – I don't know," she stammered at length. "I've – I've never really thought –"

"Then think," Syaoran replied simply. "Take your time."

She stared at him absently before her gaze slackened elsewhere, to some point beyond him in the distance that only she could see. He felt her relax against him, her weight leaning against his chest, her head softly and neatly against his neck. Slowly, absently, one of her hands came up, to trace a series of abstracted patterns lightly on the smooth skin of his shoulders. He leaned forward, resting his chin on top of her head, pressing his lips to her hair firmly. One of his arms still encircled her waist protectively; the other one was slowly and lazily trailing its fingers through her hair, before tracing a pattern from her shoulder down her arm, and then firmly lacing her hand in his.

He felt her slow preparatory inhale and steeled himself for her words.

"I –" She took another breath. "I can't do it. I can't just forget about everyone else…"

"Who else?" Syaoran asked, lips still pressed to her hair.

"Everyone," Sakura answered unhelpfully. "I just can't forget them or what they'll think if they were to see us…"

"Sakura," Syaoran murmured slowly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No one is going to see us."

"You can't guarantee that," Sakura said in a shaky voice.

"Actually…" Syaoran raised his head and gave her a strange little smile, "…as a Field Commander, I could. And so could you."

She stared at him quizzically, eyebrows furrowed, as he continued.

"The only individual in this entire Association to whom you have to answer is the Grandmaster," Syaoran explained emphatically, a fiery light glowing in his eyes. "The rest of them – Meiden, Nakuru – they're not your superiors anymore, Sakura. They no longer outrank you. And I can tell you one thing. After that conversation Meiden and I had, none of them are going to be conversing with us anytime soon. Which means we're alone here together. And you know what? No one is ever going to think twice about it. Why would they? Don't you see Meiden and Nakuru together all the time? Don't they practically live together back at Headquarters? And does anyone make a big deal out of it? No way. You have the freedom to do whatever the hell you want, as long as you do it discreetly. As long as you do your duties, you technically never have to go back on the field again, if you don't want to. Don't you understand? It's not going to be like last time because this time, we call the shots."

Sakura opened and closed her mouth repeated, the quizzical expression in her eyes giving way to understanding. And she knew that Syaoran did bring up a very good point, and that it opened up the way to so many possibilities, at once terrifying as they were beautiful.

"But what someone did find out?" Sakura pressed, trying to hold on to that very last straw of cold reality. "Say we got careless and the others found out. What would we do?"

Syaoran paused for a moment, his hands freezing on her arms.

At length, he spoke, and his words shocked her.

"I'd quit," he said simply.

Sakura pushed away from him, disbelief warring with shock on her face.

"Come again?"

He fixed his intense amber gaze on her, so focused and so serious that she froze.

"I'd quit," he repeated, completely serious.

Sakura blinked once, twice, before staring at him, waiting for him to laugh or change his expression or something.

"You're actually serious," she said at last.

"Yes."

"You mean it."

"Yes."

"You're not joking."

"No, I'm not."

"I – I don't believe you," Sakura countered. "It doesn't make sense. Why would you want to quit? Being a Field Commander means everything to you –"

"No, it doesn't," Syaoran cut across her words quietly. "It used to, I'll admit. When I was younger – getting to the top meant everything to me. I wanted to match my father, equal him, prove to everyone that I was just as good as him, if not, better than him. But now – now that I'm here, I realize that it's been at such a great cost, and – and it's just not worth it to me anymore. I do it to keep my family safe, but – but what use is that if my family's just being torn apart in my absence? Not only that, having to defend myself at every turn, and answer to Meiden who is an absolute jackass – I wouldn't think twice before leaving it all, Sakura. I'd do it gladly."

"But –" Sakura's head was wheeling. Syaoran Li, agent extraordinaire. Syaoran Li, who lived for the thrill of the field. Syaoran Li…wanted to settle down? It sat completely at odds with her mental image of him. To her, he had been the perfect agent. The role model, the standard of perfection she had always striven to match. His influence on her development as a field agent, on her entire perception of the Association itself, was monumental. In a way, Syaoran and the Association were intertwined in her head as one and the same. And as much as she hated to admit it…a substantial portion of her drive for excellence and progression in the Association had been to simply try show her training officer up. To someday beat him at his own game.

It shocked her then and there when she realized that, without Syaoran there, the Association would seem lackluster indeed.

"It's simple, Sakura," Syaoran was saying, and she forced herself to focus on his measured, reasonable, deep voice. "If we find out that they're onto us, I'll terminate my contract with them. I mean, I've worked on the field for the ten-year minimum, and I'll cite family problems as the reason to leave. They'll probably try convince me to stay but as long as I leave before anyone gathers any solid proof to incriminate us with – it shouldn't be a problem. And even if they find out, later on, well, what could they do if I'm not bound to the Association's rules anymore? They'd have no real case against you. And you could always argue that we started seeing each other after I left the Association…"

"I wouldn't want you to leave," Sakura said in a very small voice.

There was another silence as Syaoran tilted his head to the side, and surveyed her with strange, sultry eyes.

"Well, you could always come with me," he suggested offhandedly.

She blanched at his suggestion, repulsed and at the same time, intrigued. Give up her career? For a man? But at the same time – he wasn't just any man. He was, somehow, in some warped manner, the reason she stood where she did currently. The goal she had always worked for, the mentor whose approval and admiration she always fought to gain. The man who had brought a purpose other than fulfilling her childhood vendetta against the Aconite mafia into her life. The man who had influenced her and changed her in so many ways, that she had begun to divide her life into two chapters: the one before she'd met Syaoran, and the one after. The man who had somehow never left the back of her mind ever since she'd met him and fallen for him, so many years ago. For all these years, she'd dismissed it as weakness, as stupidity, as a fantasy that would amount to nothing at all.

Which is why when he sat before her, outlining a daring but feasible way for her to bring her undreamed dreams and most guarded fantasies to life, she felt something claw at her insides, filling her with a frantic tremor. This wasn't some cruel dream or sick joke, but reality. For the first time since the last time they'd parted, she found herself considering taking the leap, taking the risk – for him. Found herself acknowledging what she could never, ever bring herself to admit to herself frankly: just how much he meant to her. How much she missed him, how much she needed him. It had been no small wonder that she'd yielded to him when he'd put his hands on her, that things had escalated so quickly. Because she'd missed his touch, all these years, and had been craving it so badly…

She met his eyes hesitantly. But, for the first time, there was a glint of the daring in them too.

"Maybe," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting.

Syaoran regarded her for a moment, maybe two.

"That's not an answer," he pointed out, although there was a trace of a smile on his mouth.

"Well," Sakura said, moving herself slightly closer to him. "You never really asked a question."

The ghost of the smile on Syaoran's lips transformed into his trademark smirk.

"Alright then," he said carefully. "Sakura Kinomoto, can I have you?"

A mischievous smile flitted across Sakura's face as she pulled herself closer to him, taking his face in her hands and bringing it inches from hers.

"Only if I can have you too," she breathed.

Syaoran ran his hands through her hair before resting them on her cheeks.

"Always," he murmured, leaning in to peck her softly over the mouth. "Always."

His mouth met hers and their lips danced slowly around each other, at once as innocent as it was intimate. To them, it was like coming home after being abandoned for years.

They broke away slowly, breathing lulling to a soft synchronized rhythm. Hands caressed unclothed skin delicately, lips touched hair and formed soft words that were barely audible. Eyes locked on eyes, green hypnotized by amber, amber mesmerized by green, by one word, repeated over and over again. Mine…mine…mine…

"Syaoran?" came Sakura's voice after what seemed like an eternity.

"Hmm?"

She felt him shift slightly, his lips warm against her forehead, and felt herself blush a little as she spoke.

"Maybe it's time we got dressed again?" she suggested.

He groaned loudly.

: Everything belongs to CLAMP.

A / N : Andd FINALLY (after six years of waiting lol) ... they're together. I meant to throw in more of the plot, but then decided to just leave this chapter solely to the progression of SxS's relationship. That being said, I've never written a lemon before, so I hope it didn't seem overly cliched or anything. In the beginning, I'd planned for them to just have a go at each other passionately but then I figured that under the circumstances, something a little more...romantic would be more appropriate.

This whole chapter was about vulnerabilities, and making SxS completely naked and vulnerable in front of each other. I really tried to bring out a different side to Syaoran here: one that's softer, more serious and more mature than we've seen him in previous chapters. Just to illustrate that under the fun and games, he's the kind of guy who would be capable of loving someone purely, would be capable of throwing everything away for someone who really mattered to him. I think he might have been a little too perfect to be believable but...whatever. Romance is romance. Mmyeah.

Anyway.

Next Chapter: In between "getting to know each other better", SxS try to investigate further into the case of the mysterious techie. Their investigation is interrupted, however. By what? Find out in Puzzled.

R.S.V.P! (Review, S'Il Vous Plait!) To whoever's left on this site and reading - a short word or two, anything keeps me going.

Cheers!

-Celestiana