Standard disclaimers for Saiyuki apply. Me and Mrs. Jones belongs to Billy Paul and relevant parties. Lyrics are in italics.

Notes: AU, gender-switch, pairings (guess!)

: : Me and Mrs. Sanzo : :

Me and Mrs. Sanzo… Has a nice ring, doesn't it? Kinda rolls smoothly off your tongue. Of course, I could just use her name but it would be like a sword clad in its sheath, lacking that dangerous edge that could wound or even kill if not careful.

The evening breeze is fresh, whispering to me that she is already waiting. Me and her… we've got a thing going on, oh yes, we do, no doubt about it. I've had my fair share of women, mind you, but nothing quite like this has ever happened to me. This thrill, the pumping rush of adrenaline through your veins, never fails to set me afire every time the hours draw closer. Of course, we both know that it's wrong, but it's much too strong to let it go now. Too many sacrifices, too many secrets have been invested into this. Time has us shackled, and we are unable to break free even if we want to.

We meet everyday at the same café, six thirty, and no one knows she'll be there. Strangely, these mundane excursions seem like a first time every time. My heart races wildly as I near the café. Though the dark windows mask all clarity, I can still see her outline, sitting at our table with magazine in hand as she waits for me. A delicious tingle snakes its way up my spine, the same tingle I always get when I'm sitting behind the desk at the office, staring at the clock, wishing that time could pick up its pace. But then when I'm before her, I wish that time would come to a standstill. We would be eternally frozen in bliss that transcends everything else, including life itself.

I push the door open, the bells above jingling my arrival. My eyes immediately settle on her, that beautiful woman who is the epitome of perfection, from the silky brown hair twisted into an elegant chignon, the emerald green eyes which radiate warm sexuality as they focus upon me, to those gentle fingers that beckon me over.

A waiter attends to us after I have taken my seat across her. She smiles, as she coos "the usual, please". I glare at the waiter somewhat, knowing his hidden admiration for this fine specimen before me. He backs away quickly, face flushed, and she chuckles, a sweet tune that soothes away my childish jealousy. I grab her hands and kiss them softly, telling her how much I've missed her so.

We go on as such, holding hands, making all kinds of plans while the juke box plays our favorite songs. Nat King Cole croons the heart-rending Unforgettable, and I sing along, looking into her eyes, meaning every word I say. She smiles, her eyes twinkling with appreciation, and I can see the despair which pushes her to where she is now momentarily forgotten. And I'm happy, because I've made her happy.

Though, we gotta be extra careful that do we don't build our hopes up too high. Hopes are luxuries we cannot afford, because what we live for right now is the present, in which we bask in whatever limited trivialities we can find. Company. Warmth. Comfort. Ease. Perhaps love. But never hope. Because she's got her own obligations and so, and so, do I…

The hours pass quickly. Every time. Curse it. Well, it's time for us to be leaving. She has a home to return to, and so do I. I help her out of the seat, and assist her into her white wool coat. She looks at me, the disappointment in her eyes mirroring mine. Time comes to a standstill as we content to just look at each other, not wishing to let go just yet. I lean forward, whispering a plea for a small kiss, and she nods ever so slightly. We kiss, a light brushing of the lips, not enough to satiate our hunger but we know it is all we can risk so far.

She steps back, and the curtains fall for today. It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside. I will never get used to this pain, but I don't want it to stop. It has become almost a perverse craving. We exchange smiles. Now she'll go her way and I'll go mine. Good night, Gojyo, she whispers before walking ahead first, steps languid and smooth. My heart tightens with each step she takes, and when she finally exits the café, my heart ceases to beat for a few eternal seconds.

But once composed, I head towards the cashier and pay for our coffee and butter croissants. I look back at our table, and see the same waiter clearing up. His eyes meet mine. I have no grudge against him, saved when he starts ogling at her, so I flash a reassuring grin. He smiles back, and pockets the five dollar bill I've put as tip under my cup.

A quick glance at my watch reminds me that I need to get some food for my boy at home. He will be whining for sure if I don't get him something. Pushing open the café's door, the night's air greets me well, crisp yet alive with little hymns, wishing me sweet dreams.

I do not need sweet dreams. All I need is her. Tomorrow we'll meet. The same place, the same time.

- - owari - -

A/N: Inspired by the AU drabble challenge posted at 100roadtrips (an LJ community). Also I blame the Singapore Idol who sang this song with such sexiness (squeedies). Hope you've enjoyed reading. Thank you for dropping by. ::smiles::