Leather and Lace

By KittyLynne and Adri

Disclaimer: Leather and Lace is a not-for-profit fan work. The Fushigi Yuugi story and its characters belong to Yuu Watase and her various media distributors throughout the world. Characterizations, plot, prose, dialogue and everything else not created by Watase-sama are the intellectual property of Maidens of Konan. Said property should not be copied, borrowed or used in another story without written permission; failure to do so will result in offender being squashed flat as a pancake by Namame, the Stone Seishi of Genbu.

Author’s note: A very warm, heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this fic, especially during its very long hiatus. I really hope you will enjoy this newest chapter. Hugs, KittyLynne

Chapter Fourteen

It took Dante under ten minutes to drive home from the supermarket, helped in part by the fact that at this late hour there was virtually no side street traffic to trip the thoroughfare’s stop lights from green to red.

“Damn sundowner.” He muttered, after turning the corner onto his street and noticing his elderly neighbor’s living room light was still burning.

Shutting off his headlights, he let up on the accelerator and crept down the street at a snail’s pace to his driveway, making sure not to gun the SUV's engine as he pulled up the slope. He pressed the switch to open the garage door, and as soon as he had entered the structure, quickly pressed it again; while the door rolled shut behind him, he switched off the ignition, disconnected his seat belt and stayed put, hoping that he'd been quiet enough to escape detection and that the old lady had fallen asleep in front of the TV.

If she hadn't and had gotten wind of his return home, he'd soon know. She’d calculate the time it would take him to get inside and then get on the horn, calling him over on some sham pretext like a non-existent peeper or burglar. Then he’d end up trapped into staying for a glass of Ovaltine while she lauded the views of Pat Robertson, pronounced judgment on the neighborhood's general lack of morality, and extolled the questionable virtues of her thrice-divorced granddaughter.

No way. There was no way he'd allow himself to be suckered in tonight. He’d had more than enough of crazy talking, insufferable geriatrics for one day, thank you very much. He’d just hang out in the garage for a while longer; if the phone rang, he could honestly say he was puttering around in the garage and couldn't hear it.

Their was one flaw to the plan; sitting and waiting also gave him the opportunity to think about his strange encounter with Taiits-kun. Funny how that whole scene had undercut his pleasure over the awesome date he had with Miaka. His bubble of excitement over the possibility that things were finally going to work out for him in the love department had been well and truly punctured. But damn it all, his insatiable curiousity was prodding him to think it over with the sly reasoning that pinpointing Taiitsukun's motives would enable a solution for her behavior and keep her from upsetting him any further.

With a sigh, Dante sank back into his seat and deliberately set about recalling every action and every word in their exchange.

Neither of them had much else to say after she'd all but confirmed that Tasuki had gone to meet his maker. They’d gone through the check out in silence, save for desultory replies to the cashier’s cheerful small talk. They’d chatted for a bit while they’d waited for the taxi she had called for on her odd-looking cell phone, but the conversation was banal and uninteresting.

When the cab arrived, he had lingered to help load her bags into the car, using courtesy as a pretext to catch her address when she gave it to the driver. After this latest encounter he badly wanted to find out where she was staying, and something told him that it wouldn’t do him any good to ask her directly. He should have known that the wily old hag would thwart his plan by climbing into the cab’s back seat without a word of instruction to the driver. He had hovered, pinning his hopes on the cabbie asking for the address while within earshot, but the man had simply shut her door and went to climb behind the wheel.

Inexplicably stung by the rejection, he'd turned back to the cart that held his groceries with the intention of high tailing it out of there. He had heard the electric whine of a lowering cab window and the clearing of a throat but had ignored the subtle summons, thinking that Grandma could have a taste of her own bad medicine.

In a burst of pique, he had grabbed hold of the cart’s handle and shoved, only to find that the wheel had turned at an awkward angle and gotten wedged in a pothole.

"Dante, please stop. I wish to say something to you."

The underlying note of contrition in the crackly voice hadn’t moved him. He’d been kicked one too many times to come running back. One mighty wrench had freed the cart and he'd walked away at a good clip, hoping that the loud rattling of wheels on the pock marked asphalt would drown out all other sounds.

It hadn't.

"DANTE PROMETHEUS TAGER! I ASKED YOU TO STOP!”

The command had thundered through the night, hitting him with the impact of a gale force wind. But it was the use of his cringe-worthy middle name - the pretentious, weird-ass moniker that had gotten him into fights when he was young and that he’d kept a secret since graduating high school - that had stopped him dead in his tracks.

Very reluctantly, he’d turned himself and his cart around and walked back to the taxi, glaring at the old woman who had made him do it the entire way. Taiits-kun's beady eyes had fixed upon him with equally disconcerting intensity as he approached. He had glared right back, undeterred by her stare.

”I regret having to shout, because it could have been avoided. Why didn’t you stop the first time I called for you?” She asked.

The imperiousness in her tone had set his teeth on edge. He had wanted to give her what-for, could feel the words burning on his tongue, but had held them back. After hearing that voice coming out of such a small body, he hadn't been keen to cross her again! “Because I’ve got groceries to deal with, an’ I gotta work the early shift!”

"Then I won’t keep you any longer than it takes to thank you for your help." Taiits-kun had said, surprising him yet again. "You’ve been very kind to an old woman, and have given invaluable assistance to a stranger in your country. It speaks highly of you as a person."

Though he’d still been miffed, the old lady’s praise had filled him with pride, mainly because he was sure it was something she didn’t dish out very often. Because of that, he had figured he should cut her some slack. Fair was fair; Miaka had forgiven him for his cultural insensitivity, so in turn he could find it in his heart to forgive her old mentor for the lapse.

Thinking of that incident had also given him an idea. In a more formal imitation of his apology to Miaka, he had bowed respectfully to Taiits-kun while wishing her good health, good fortune and a safe trip back to her homeland. To his satisfaction, she’d looked both astonished and very pleased at his gesture; as badly as the woman got on his nerves, seeing that warped but clearly approving smile of hers really had made him glad he hadn’t left her with a bad impression. After all, this was it. She was about to drive off into the night, never to be seen or heard by him again.

Again, he should have known better.

"I won't be dismissed as easily as that, Fang Boy!" His tormentor had declared, after emitting a dried-peas-rattling-in-a-can chortle. "Our business is far from finished!"

There were several smart cop-style comebacks he could have used, and even more questions that he should have been asking, like where she got her information on him from, but his temper had gotten in the way of his wits. "Okay Granny, you know I have a proper name! Why don’t ya use it?"

Taiits-kun had frowned at his rudeness, but there had been a glint in her eyes that made him suspect she was still secretly laughing at him. "You’re quite right. I will only refer to you by your birth name from now on."

“Thanks, I'd appreciate that.” He had said, not entirely mollified.

“You are most welcome.” The basset hound lines around her mouth had deepened with her smile. "So then, I will take my leave of you, Kou Shun'u. Or, as you Americans say, 'catch you later' !”

He'd opened his mouth, having every intention of asking what the hell she was talking about, what this Kou whatsis had to do with his name, and how anyone in their right mind could possibly mistake him for a Chinaman given his appearance, eye color and red hair!

Instead, he had found himself gaping like a fool as the old lady and her infuriating smirk disappeared behind darkened window glass.

While the taxi had pulled away from the curb he had glowered after it in frustration, barely managing to keep the wild impulse to chase after it in check. He was fast, yeah, but not that fast…and besides, he had perishables that needed immediate attention. Getting them home and into his fridge took precedence over chasing down Old Lady Crackpot in a cab in the middle of the night.

The security light on the garage door opener going out jolted Dante back to the present. Even when she ain't around, the old bird's great at keepin' me in the dark! He thought. If she was Miaka's teacher, maybe Miaka can help me figure out what her deal is. Unless they had some kinda falling out...maybe that's why the old lady isn't in touch with her.

Frowning at the thought, Dante clambered out of the SUV, collected his groceries by trunk light, and then closed it and felt his way in the darkness to the door the opened into his mudroom. Once inside, he walked straight through into the kitchen, his path now illuminated by a handful of cheap but reliable plug-in night-lights. Once in the kitchen, he dumped the contents of the bags on the counter, opened the fridge, and began putting the foodstuffs away by the glow of the small but bright light.

When the groceries had been taken care of, he relaxed; the phone hadn't rung, and the doorbell was silent. Evelyn was down for the night. Since the coast was clear, maybe he’d stay up for a little while longer to have a glass of wine and listen to some music in state-of-the-art surround sound, something that would drown out the disquieting questions Taiits-kun had put in his brain.

Turning to the fridge, he snagged the half empty bottle of pinot that he had opened to go with the meal Miaka had prepared, then shut the door with a bump of his hip. The dishwasher produced a clean but slightly spotty wine glass from the top rack. He filled it, set it down, and then drained the swallow that was left in the bottle. The recycling bin was a few steps away in the mudroom, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw away anything that he’d shared with Miaka. With a small smile, he set the bottle in the sink. Later, he’d rinse it out and find a special candle for it.

He was on his way to the living room when a glance at his answering machine stopped him once more. The red light was blinking like an aircraft beacon in the semi-darkened room, indicating three messages had been left. For a moment he was tempted to ignore them, his desire for respite battling with a strong sense of responsibility. As was usually the case, responsibility won. He meandered over to the machine and pressed the play button.

The first message was from his mother, who told him in a cheerful voice that she was just calling to say hello, and that her favorite son could call her back when it was convenient.

I’m your only son, Ma! Dante thought with a smile, finishing the inside joke that they’d shared ever since he could remember.

The second message was from Craig, and didn’t require a follow up; after leaving a list of bawdy guesses as to why Dante wouldn’t be at home by ten o’clock on a work night, his best friend had laughed, wished him a pleasant evening of debauchery, and hung up.

“Moron,” Dante snorted, smirking in spite of himself.

The smirk disappeared as soon as the third caller’s voice filled the room.

“Hello Dante-kun, this is Miaka. Um…please don’t be concerned, Mizu and I are fine! Um… a-actually, I'm calling to listen to your voice on your machine. Silly, I know …but ...I miss you.”

Dante went rigid, feeling his emotions rise and lick at him like fire. God help him, he wanted to be with her too...more than anything.

“I suppose I should feel guilty in telling you that, but I can’t. Even if it’s too fast and too soon, I wish that tonight hadn’t ended where it did. I thought about everything that's between us, and how I feel about you, and I realized … that … that I…”

As her hesitation dragged on, Dante’s nerves and his patience were stretched to their limits.

“That you what?” He prompted, not caring that he was half-shouting at a recording. “Just say it, dammit!”

As if she had heard his plea, Miaka began speaking. “Gomen- I’m sorry, I’ve never left this kind of message before. I’m not good at saying it...”

She paused again, making a noise that sounded like something between a giggle and a sob, and then followed it with a sweet torrent of words that sent her listener's heart rate into maximum overdrive.

“I'll put it like this, Dante-kun. You said you wouldn't open the package unless you knew it was for you...and so...I wanted to let you know that it is yours.”

As the recording ended with a loud, jarring beep, Dante spat out a curse and bolted for the machine, hitting the save button before the tape could be erased. Rewinding it, he listened to the message again…and again…and again, convincing himself that he’d heard her right.

After the fourth time, he pushed stop and stood staring down at his motionless hand.

Conventional wisdom said that love at first sight was a myth, something that only happened to people in romance novels and storybooks…but knowing that didn’t change the fact of what had happened to him. What he felt for Miaka defied all logic. He was deeply in love with someone he’d known for only two days, and had been from the moment she’d smiled at him. Admitting that, and that he’d do anything to be with her was crazy-ass dangerous, a threat to everything he’d achieved in his career, but he honestly didn’t give a damn. If she felt the same, the risk would be worth it…

There was only one problem- timing. A glance at the clock on his microwave told him it was close to one thirty in the morning. Though his impulsive side was shouting at him to call Miaka up right now and spill his guts, the saner part of him knew it might not be a good idea to do it right after waking her up. And not having a plan for what he was going to say also made him jittery- not a good thing, considering that whenever he got nervous he tended to get loud and crack really bad jokes. It would be just like him to fuck up one of the most vitally important moments in his life by blurting out something thoughtless and stupid!

Not only that, there were still issues to be dealt with before he felt he could embark on a full fledged relationship. He hadn't told her about being a detective, or about meeting her former mentor. And what was he going to do with the information Taiits-kun had given him about Tasuki? How the hell was he supposed to impart the sad news of his lookalike's demise to Miaka, much less explain why he'd been pumping the old lady for information about the guy in the first place?

And as far as her boyfriend went...well, he'd have to decide what he was going to do about that conflict of interest just as soon as he was off suspension. The sooner Taka Sukinami was out of both their lives, the better. Miaka deserved real commitment, romance, laughter, and companionship. She deserved someone who made her feelings a priority. She deserved someone who wanted to be her partner in every sense of that word. He’d call her on his morning break to make a date where he could tell her how much he wanted to give her all those things.

Satisfied that he had a plan of action that appeased his sense of fair play and his nagging conscience, Dante downed his wine in one gulp, set the glass in the sink, and then headed for the living room couch and his TV remote.

There was no way he was going to settle down for a decent night's sleep, so a mindless bout of channel flipping was the next best thing.

Day had just begun to break beyond the window in his den before Taka finally pushed himself away from his desk. He rubbed his burning eyes, and then massaged his aching neck with a hand.

He’d quickly saved the information on Miaka to the jump drive he’d been issued as an aid to working at home, but the rest of the entries proved resistant to being accessed, which made them impossible to copy or transfer. At that point, he’d decided to stay a little longer to try a couple of tricks he’d learned from one of his fraternity brothers, a computer science whiz who gone into anti virus programming. With what he’d remembered, he’d managed to open three more files. The names they’d contained kept him going at the others straight through the night, but his subsequent efforts had been stymied.

So now what? Reaching for a notepad, he jotted them down and then stared at them until the characters blurred before his tired eyes.

Aogiri Suzumi

Hongo Yui

Mikage Aya

Seno Alice

Yuuki Miaka

All of them were Japanese and female. Two were vaguely familiar to him from news stories about the scandal at Mikage International, a former technology and genetic research giant in the Japanese business world. One was an unknown and the other two were a inextricable part of his life. But what could their connection be with Miaka?

Thornton had said it was a simple transfer error, that the data should have been purged instead of given to him as the clients were deceased. If that’s what the man had been told, he had been misinformed about the files’ content. Miaka and Yui were very much alive, and as far as he knew, at least two of the three other women were too.

Perhaps the files had been routed to him because they were potential clients? Still, that wouldn’t explain Miaka's dossier. She hadn’t made enough money at the Phoenix Grill to be able to invest it, and he doubted she ever would, not that it mattered. By the time they got married, he’d have enough put away in securities, bonds and retirement portfolios for the both of them. When they were old, they’d be able to live comfortably on just the generated interest and dividends.

If they ended up together, that is. He wasn’t as sure of that fact as he had been twenty-four hours ago.

Everything in him said that he shouldn’t have left Miaka last night. There were some serious problems between them that they needed to talk about, but he’d left her to help someone else. Even his boss had questioned that decision, albeit jokingly.

Since he’d been hired at Thornton, he’d never called in sick, taken a personal day or gone on vacation. He’d schedule medical and dental appointments on his lunch breaks to keep from getting backlogged, making the time up on Saturdays if the appointments went over an hour. Sure, having that single-minded devotion to his job had upped his salary and his status with Thornton, but how much would it end up costing him in the end?

Time was money, but it was also at its most valuable when making memories with loved ones.

He’d totally lost sight of that in the last few months. No wonder Miaka had rejected him last night. He hadn’t made any efforts to make time just to be with her,and yet he had expected her to be there for him. He’d made plans and cancelled them, ignored her phone calls when they weren't convenient to take, relegated her to sitting at home while he traveled. She deserved far better... and she’d get it, just as soon as he got back from his business trip as a proxy for Thornton.

Turning in his chair, Taka glanced up at the crystal and brass clock hanging on the wall beside him. In a little under two hours, the building would be unlocked and employees would start to arrive. Soon after that, some high level programmer would log onto his laptop and expunge all traces of the unwanted files from his database, as per Thornton’s directive. Once they were gone, pretending ignorance would provide a convenient and easy solution to his present dilemma.

But it wouldn’t be business as usual. One of those folders had contained very personal information about Miaka, and he had no idea why. That wasn’t something that was going to go away by pretending ignorance, and he didn’t intend to shove it aside. Protecting Miaka came before all else, and always had.

Hoping to gain inspiration, he scanned the room. None was forthcoming until his gaze finally alighted on the frame sitting on his desk, which held a picture of himself and Miaka standing arm in arm in front of his townhouse.

Flex time- it was the perfect compromise. He’d phone in that he was using one of his seven work-from-home days, something the company allotted to its account executives every year, and one of the perks he hadn’t yet taken advantage of. He’d bring the laptop along with him using preparation for Thornton’s business trip as an excuse. At home, he could work on accessing the data without question. In the worst case scenario that he couldn’t get them opened himself, calling in a personal favor would yield some answers.

After stops in the locker room to change into his uniform, and at the central desk to check for messages, Dante made his way upstairs to the open office space that had been designated to the Investigations unit.

Dropping into the banged up chair that went with the equally battered but substantial steel desk to which he’d been assigned, he reached for a pencil and began filling in the log sheets and maintenance reports that had been issued to him. It was tedious work, and it wasn’t long before he found his thoughts straying to smiling green eyes, silky auburn hair and the feel of a soft breast pressing into the palm of his hand…

His pencil snapping in two brought him back to reality. With a muttered oath, he threw it away and reached for a pen.

“Here Tager. You look like you could use this.”

Dante glanced up to see a large Styrofoam cup being held in front of his face. Rising steam carried the aroma of strongly brewed java to his flaring nostrils, as he gratefully accepted the offering. “Thanks, man. Paperwork’s a bitch at this time of the morning.”

Cody LaConte took a seat at the desk directly opposite him. “Not a problem. Wouldn't want any street punks getting the drop on you.”

“An’ what punks would those be? All I’ve been doin’ is handing out tickets, dealin’ with accident reports, and helping little old ladies across the street!” Dante retorted, after taking a sip of coffee.

“Don't get complacent.” LaConte advised easily. “You’d be surprised at what can cross your path on a routine day.”

In an instant, Dante’s smirk disappeared. From past conversations, he’d learned that LaConte had been a street cop in Chicago, and had almost lost his life in a shoot out. The similarities to what had happened with his own father had been painful, and were probably the reason he had avoided getting too close to the man. “I know.” He said quietly. “A boring day is a good day.”

“That's right. And on a bad day, make sure to call for back up.”

The two men exchanged a long stare, and then Dante’s gaze dropped to the cup in his hand. “I gotcha.” He murmured.

“So when do you come back to investigations?” LaConte asked.

“Whenever our beloved Commish decides to pull his head out of his ass.”

“Or gets it handed to him on a plate by the City Council."

Dante’s smile was sarcastic. “Which means it’s going to be awhile.”

“It would seem so.” LaConte paused. "Would you mind if I picked your brain a bit regarding Taka Sukinami?”

Dante took a long swallow of coffee, while an overwhelming sense of guilt rose within him. Not only had he not given a thought to helping his replacement, he’d been too caught up in what he was feeling for Miaka to think out how he was going to explain his very personal interest in her to the rest of the team. Thank God his temporary reassignment gave him an excuse to avoid telling outright lies to all parties.

“Can’t help ya with that.” He said shortly. “The Captain made it clear that I’m banned from the case in every capacity.”

The dismissal in his voice was obvious, but LaConte wasn’t deterred. “Would asking a witness a couple of quick observational questions be considered out of bounds? I’ll be honest, Tager. I’m having a tough time keeping this one afloat with all the stonewalling going on, but I’m not giving up, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let politicians an dbig business honchos dictate to the precinct which cases have merit!”

Dante surveyed his co-worker with a mixture of surprise, reluctant amusement and empathy. He’d pretty much pegged Cody LaConte as a by-the-book type, but apparently that impression wasn’t entirely accurate. “Okay. You got five minutes.”

“Great, thank you.” The other man responded, looking a bit more cheerful. “Okay, in going through your reports, you mentioned interacting with or being deferred to intermediaries. You never talked with Sukinami directly?”

“No. All communication went through his assistant or an appointment setter.” Dante told him. “After a few weeks of tryin’, I got fed up with canceled appointments, unanswered calls and excuses giving me the run around. So I went to the building he works in, waved my badge around and point blank asked to see him. Instead of him, they trotted out some legal type to talk with me. Once the guy realized I didn’t have a warrant or a summons, I never made it past the lobby.”

“You'd think they'd have let you speak to him with consel present.” LaConte mused. “From what I’ve deduced in researching, Sukinami’s life is the proverbial open book- there’s not a whisper of trouble or scandal to be found since he got here, or from when he was living in Japan. His friends and fiercest competitors all describe him as smart, honest, classy, and a genuinely nice guy. Why would a man like that be kept hidden away?”

Dante pondered the question. As disgusted as he was with his rival’s base neglect of Miaka, he knew he shouldn’t let those personal feelings have any bearing on the case. If what LaConte was saying was true, then Sukinami deserved to be given the benefit of the doubt. “You think he’s being groomed as the sacrificial lamb for someone higher up?”

“Either that, or they're buying time to find out if he knows something that can hurt them.” LaConte replied. “Thought if I approached him while he's out of sight of the corporate watchdogs, his reaction might tell me if he’s knowingly avoiding us or being played for a sucker. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a good plan. Keep it casual and friendly. If he talks, great, if not, back off because that’s telling us something as well.”

“Had you thought about questioning his girlfriend? Would she know anything that could help us?”

Dante’s mouth compressed. Shit. I shoulda known that was comin’. Better get that idea out of his head right now. “That's a dead end.” He stated firmly. “Other than bein’ his arm candy for company shin digs, he’s got no clue about what’s goin’ on with his work. From what I've observed, he spends little time with her...but I'd rather keep that."

La Conte cleared his throat and shifted back a little in his chair. “I understand.” He said, and then added wryly, “not to mention that bringing her down here to the station would cause a real commotion. Seems Miss Yuuki’s folder and her stills have made the rounds and have been perused a little bit too closely, if you know what I mean.”

Dante felt his neck and ears growing hot.

“I know.” He growled. “I just ripped Murray a new one about sharin’ photos with the horn dogs.”

LaConte's voice carried both surprise and approval. “How did it go?”

The steely glint in the redhead’s eyes and the hardness in his voice had his questioner offering up silent thanks that he’d never invoked the wrath of Dante.

“Let’s just say it's a pretty good bet he won’t be makin’ that mistake again.”

“I'd bet he won’t.”

Dante flashed a grin at the quietly emphatic response, then checked his watch. “Sorry, C.L, but my shift’s startin’ and I still have to sign off on these babies.”

“Say no more- I appreciate you taking the time.”

Four minutes later and his forms were complete and sitting in his out basket. With a sigh of relief, Dante stood and tossed his empty coffee cup in the wastebasket. For once, he was eager to get out on patrol. Being out on the road would give him a chance to think things through and to call Miaka without having to worry about the discerning eyes and ears of his colleagues.

LaConte glanced up from writing as Dante strode past his desk. “Hey, be careful out there.”

“Will do, Cody. And thanks.”

“Ready to go, Mia dear?”

As Hannah DeBerg pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen, Miaka took the opportunity to peer into the dining room. The number of occupied tables had dwindled to less than ten, which was a solid indication that the lunch rush was over. Her station was clean and the garnishes were replenished. That meant she could go to lunch with Hannah, something that she’d been looking forward to all morning.

She smiled at the hostess, who beamed right back at her. “Almost. I just have to grab my bag.”

Alan Thompson poked his head around the corner as she went back into the storage area that served as a coatroom. “Is this a private party, or may I join you ladies?”

Miaka hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she was completely ready to trust the man who’d once seen her as a direct threat to his personal happiness, but was that entirely fair? Once they’d gotten past the Kevin thing, Alan and she had had some fun times together. Along with Hannah, he'd been there to keep her from getting lonely when Taka was away or too busy to see her, and to aid her in her efforts to become more fluent in her English. There was also no question that he had helped her out with McMasters today and yesterday, diverting the blond chef’s attention and generally running interference so that she was left in peace with her thoughts and daydreams. Considering that, saying no seemed very ungracious.

“You’re welcome to join us.” She said warmly. “I did have something kind of personal I wanted to discuss with Hannah that I don’t want everyone here to find out. Can you keep a secret?”

Alan’s expression was solemn as he made slashing motions across his heart. “I swear not to tell. Trust me, honey, I’ve got more secrets than anyone.”

After loading out take out containers from the salad bar and grabbing some drinks, they headed out the back door to the small enclosure built for employees’ breaks. The fenced in area wasn’t large, but it boasted a tree, a few flower filled barrels, and a couple of resin patio sets with red and white umbrellas.

Miaka was the first to seat herself and open up her container, only to find herself staring at it. Why had she taken so much food when she really wasn’t hungry? Figuring out she was in love with Dante was one thing, but why had she made that idiotic phone call? Every time she thought of it, her stomach started to do flip-flops.

“All right, that does it. I think I can guess what you want to talk about.” Alan said, as he sat down. “Dark circles under the eyes, the dreamy yet tormented expression, the astounding lack of an appetite…you’ve fallen pretty hard for Mr. Hunky Police Officer, haven’t you?”

Hannah plunked down next to him. “Shut up, Alan. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Miaka shook her head. “It’s okay, there’s no sense in my denying it.” She said with a sigh. “Last night, Dante stopped by the apartment to see me and I let him take me out to eat.”

Though her expression was solemn, Hannah’s brown eyes sparkled. “Ooh! Did you have a good time?”

“Hai! I mean, yes, it was so much fun! We went to the Sonic, because he found out I’d never been to an American drive-in.”

“He wanted to take you someplace new...now that's a romantic date!”

"Yes." Miaka smiled. “And after we ate, he took me to a park for a walk so we could talk and watch the sun setting over the mountains.”

Hannah leaned forward. “So he was concerned about what you were thinking and attentive?”

Her friend’s eyes shone with remembered pleasure. “Very.”

“Is he a good kisser?”

Miaka dropped her gaze to her salad, rearranging it with her plastic fork as an excuse to hide her burning face.

“Much, much better than good.” She admitted softly. “He's amazing at it...and everything else he does.”

Hannah sucked in a breath. “Oh, sweetie…”

“Don't misunderstand! I...I didn't mean that. We haven't...gone beyond necking." Miaka clenched her fist. "I wanted to. I got carried away, but he stopped and said he couldn’t go that far with me until he knows I’m all his.”

“Was he angry?”

"Not at all. He...he was just very honest about his feelings. He says he's willing to wait, because it's important for everything to be right when it happens....and I agreed with him. "

"He's afraid it's too fast, too soon." Hannah stated.

"Um...well...yes."

"And it got left at that?"

Miaka didn't think her face could get any hotter. "Well, there was really nothing more that could be said. And it was getting really cold out, so we decided to go back to my place for coffee and a snack. We talked some more and listened to music, and he gave me a lovely hug and goodnight kiss when he left.”

Alan, who had been listening intently, broke in. “Ah ha, the true litmus test! How did the Clawed Demon react to your date?”

Miaka laughed. “No problems there! Mizu likes Dante, and the feeling is mutual.”

"Wow." Alan breathed. “So let me see if I got everything straight. You meet a totally hot cop with six pack abs who makes you want to scream out his name the minute you laid eyes on him. In the two days since you've met, the guy procedes to prove himself to be a chivalrous, supremely caring, honorable individual who's made you happier than I've ever seen you since you got here. He's fun, considerate of your feelings, an amazing kisser, and on top of all that your man-hating, skin shredding cat likes him.” He shook his head. “Help me out here, Yuuki, because I'm failing to understand what's been holding you back.“

"The hold up is Taka!” Hannah exclaimed, giving him her best ‘don’t be an idiot’ look. “He’s the reason Mia came here, remember? They’ve been a couple since they were teenagers, and that's nota relationship one can throw away on a hot looking whim.” She turned to look at Miaka. “But it's not a whim, is it? I know you still care for Taka, but it's not the same feeling as it was when you came here. From what you've been saying and how you look when you speak of him, it's Dante you're in love with. Am I right?”

"Yes." Miaka whispered, her green eyes moistening with emotion. “Taka and I...we’ve been through a lot, things you can’t even imagine! He sacrificed a lot to stick with me through some very tough times. I owe him so much -”

“If you went through those times together, he owes you just as much, Mia.” Hannah broke in. Leaning over, she put her right hand over her friend’s, stilling its aimless gesturing. “But owing someone isn't a good reason for a marriage. I know moving here from Japan to be with him took a lot of courage and determination, but it hasn’t brought you the happiness either of you deserve because Taka's changed...and because your own heart has changed.”

Miaka gazed at her. “Are you saying it was a mistake to come here?”

“Not at all!” Hannah stated emphatically. “I’m saying that maybe there was another reason you were destined to come here, one that you've just only discovered! As my mother always used to tell me, just listen to what your heart says. It never lies.”

“Amen to that.” Alan said.

"I did go with it, and I blew it!” Miaka blurted, looking miserable. “I called Dante and left a message on his machine right after he left my place. I thought...I just wanted to hear his voice, but I ended up confessing my feelings! And then I laid awake waiting for a return call that never came! I think it was too much, too soon! I think I chased him away!”

“Was it pretty late at night when he left you?” Hannah asked with a smile.

“Close to midnight, yes. Yet I hoped when he got home and listened to the message he'd-”

Hannah interrupted. “You're worrying for nothing, dear. It was clear to me when I met him that the guy’s a considerate person. Ever think he might have figured you'd be asleep and decided to wait, rather than wake you? Or that maybe he wanted to be able to respond to you in person when he could give you physical proof of his feelings along with the words?”

“I…I suppose...it could have been either…”

“Or both! I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again- that man is yours if you want him! The only question that remains is if you’re willing to take a risk and do what needs to be done so that the two of you can be happy together.”

Miaka stared at her friend with parted lips. Her heart ached for what that meant for Taka, and yet also soared with the joyful certainty of what she truly wanted.

“Dante is more than worth any risk. I want to be with him. ”

The older woman’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Now that we’ve got that settled, what’s your plan?”

“I need to break the news to Taka, but unfortunately, I'll have to wait until next week to do that. He’s going out of town on a business trip, so I'm sure I won’t be seeing him until he returns. It's an important trip, and I don't want to upset him beforehand. He doesn't deserve that, or to find out from a letter or phone call."

"You're a lot kinder than I would be," Alan remarked, "considering he's barely make time to see you."

"So what are you going to do in the meantime?" Hannah asked quickly, sending Alan a quelling look. "What about Dante?”

“We've made some tentative plans.” Miaka admitted. “Dante knew Taka and I had made plans for the weekend, so that was that. But then Taka called and cancelled them while Dante was still at my place last night."

Hannah's eyes went wide. "Oh my. That must have been awkward."

"Just a little." Miaka said wryly. "It helped that I could speak in Japanese. Anyway, I was mostly relieved...and yet disappointed because I really wanted to see the sights. Dante got that much out of me and then invited Mizu and me to stay at his house for the weekend while he takes me to see the attractions around town.“ She broke off as Alan and Hannah exchanged knowing looks. “You two are such perverts! Nothing like that will be happening! He has a guest room...and we have an agreement, remember? Dante says we can handle it like mature adults, and I think so too. Controlling ourselves is a small price to pay for getting the chance to spend major time together."

The hostess snorted. “A noble ambition, but pardon me when I say it's a total crock! From the vibes I was getting from that man yesterday, getting you anywhere near to his bedroom will be the definition of spontaneous combustion!”

"Hannah!" Though she was being thoroughly embarrassed, Miaka couldn’t help giggling.

“ Dante...” Alan said, looking thoughtful. “That's an interesting name, especially since what I’ve seen and heard of him does make me think of an inferno.” Golden eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Perhaps I’ll have to create a fiery new illusion in his honor for my act.”

This was news to Hannah. “And what kind of act would that be?” She asked, eyeing him with a speculative grin.

“Alan is a professional magician!” Miaka informed her happily. “He doesn't make a big deal about it, but he’s got a permanent weekend job at Phantasma Dance Club and Cabaret!”

“How exciting!” Hannah exclaimed. “But you know, I honestly can’t say I’m surprised, Alan. I’ve always thought you had a flair for showmanship- your dining room exhibitions are terrific, even better than McMasters!’”

“Thank you.” Alan said modestly, after swallowing his last bite of salad. “I’m not in it for the money or anything- I just like to entertain people and I enjoy mastering new techniques.”

“You have to tell us when you perform so Miaka and I can come see you!” Hannah enthused.

Alan smiled. “I’ll do better. I’ll get you complimentary tickets.” He turned to Miaka. “I’ll get a ticket for Dante too, if you’d think he’d interested.”

“Oh, I'd say that's a safe bet if Mia’s involved.” Hannah put in slyly.

“Ah, but of course!” Alan exclaimed, twirling an imaginary mustache as he leered at the two women. “Yes...yes...I can picture it now! Miaka as my hapless- er, esteemed assistant in my latest concotion of magical fantasy! A damsel in peril, an innocent, yet ravishing temptress starring in a scene so riveting that our highly principled Dante won't be able to resist coming to her rescue!“

Miaka laughed along with her friends, feeling her spirits rising to giddy heights. Admitting that she'd fallen in love with Dante Tager was much scarier than anything she'd ever done, but allowing herself to feel it was glorious. “Sounds like the perfect scheme to me!”

It was close to two o’ clock before Dante headed for Brew You for a late lunch break.

The morning had flown by. Traffic violations, fender benders and a couple of emergency calls had kept him plenty busy. He’d managed to grab some time to call Miaka, but it was after nine and she hadn’t answered, probably because she had gone to work. To add to his frustration, his beeper had gone off just when he’d started to leave a message, and he’d ended up saying far less than what he’d wanted to say. Still, if nothing else she’d know he was thinking of her when she heard it, and he’d make sure to do much better when he saw her in person.

Whistling a nameless tune, he pulled into a parking space right up next to the coffeehouse. This time of day was what Craig referred to as 'down time'; after the lunch crowd, and before people got off of work. Indeed, the only sign of activity that Dante could see was that of the jeans and t-shirt clad, blue haired young woman who was occupied with washing the glass paneled front door.

With that shade of hair, she’s gotta be in a band. He thought, before spotting the UCCS logo on the back of her shirt. And she's a co-ed. Craig must have hired a part timer to help out.

He climbed out of the car and locked it up, after first making sure he had his keys in his hand. Pocketing them, he then approached the window washer, who was swabbing the glass with an impressive amount of energy. He paused, intending to wait, but she startled him by quickly stopping and turning to him, squeegee still in hand.

She was very short; the top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. If it weren’t for her punk-styled blue hair and womanly curves, he’d have thought her a child.

Lavender irises set in a surprisingly innocent looking face sparkled as they regarded him.

Dante stared. Pretty unusual hair and eye colors. And they look real. As soon as the thought struck him, he shrugged it off. After all, natural looking hair dyes came in all colors these days, and exotic colored contacts were readily available.

“Good Afternoon, Officer! Welcome to Brew You!” The young woman trilled, sending droplets of moisture flying as she gestured wildly. “So glad you’re here! Please go right in!”

Dante’s lips twitched at the young woman’s sprightly enthusiasm. Whoo boy, Craig’s got himself a live one here! “Afternoon, miss… an’ thanks a lot.” He added, as she stepped aside and opened the door with a flourish.

“You’re very, very welcome!” She chirped, beaming at him. “Please enjoy yourself!”

Touching a finger to his hat in response, Dante entered the coffeehouse. It wasn’t a surprise to him to find that no one was behind the counter; considering the lack of customers, Craig was most likely out back doing inventory or taking a break in the john.

He walked up to the register, intending to ring the bell put there for service. Before he could, a familiar face with a crown of blue hair suddenly popped up from beneath the counter. Lavender eyes smiled at him as he gave a violent start.

Dante gaped at the cheerful young woman as she stood up, tugged on the bottom of her UCCS t-shirt and said,

“Good afternoon, Officer! Welcome to Brew You! I’ll be very glad to take your order if you're ready!”

“Wait a sec! Weren't you just outside washin' the windows?” He asked, perplexed. “How’d ya get back here so fast?”

The girl giggled and started to answer, but a gruff male voice interrupted her.

“Yo Dante! About time ya showed up!”

A relaxed-looking Craig Bennett had emerged from the kitchen. Dante performed their ritual handshake with less than his usual flair until an epiphany struck him.

“Twins!" He exclaimed. “They're twins, right?”

"Yep!" Craig laughed. “Just applied today. Their references were great, so I hired ‘em on the spot.”

“Sorry about the mix up, miss. ” Dante said to the smiling girl. "What's your name?"

“That's perfectly okay!“ She piped. “I’m Ami with an 'i', and my sister’s name is Sue. It would make my day to take your order, sir, considering all you do to keep our city safe!”

With anyone else he would have suspected sarcasm, but this girl really meant it, Dante could tell. Abundant enthusiasm must run in the family, he thought in bemusement, as he thanked her and placed an order for a depth charge and a raspberry scone.

“Is that all you're havin'?” Craig asked critically, as Ami busied herself with the order. “This is your lunch break, ain’t it?”

Dante shrugged. “Yeah, but I'm not very hungry.”

"Is that so?" Craig's eyes glinted with a knowing light as he surveyed his friend. "I bet I can guess the reason why.”

Dante reddened. “Mind your own beeswax!”

“Said but not meant.” Craig asserted breezily. “Mind if I join ya?”

“Only if you lay off hasslin' me about why I’m not eating!”

“Or sleepin’,” Craig added, after another shrewd glance at the dark circles under his friend’s eyes.

“That too.”

Twenty minutes later, Dante had finished his scone, all the while giving Craig an overview on his new assignment and how things were progressing in his love life. By an unspoken understanding, he didn’t give out specifics; though he trusted his best friend with many confidences and vice versa, they were in a public place, and able to be overheard.

“I’d say she’s ready to dump the suit for good!" Craig proclaimed, when Dante had finished. "It's a good thing too, since you’re totally gaga over her!" When Dante glowered at him, he added, "I know you too well, Tager, so don't even think about givin' me any of that 'I'm done with women' or 'I don't want to be tied down' bullshit! If you weren't thinkin' that way about Miaka, then why bother bringin' her here to meet me? Why take a chance on her with that other guy in the picture? Why refuse ta sleep with her unless she says she's all yours? You wouldn't have done none of those things if she weren't the one, isn't that right?”

Dante averted his gaze to the cup he held, then gave an affirmative jerk of his head.

“Glad you're bein' honest with yourself this time!“ Craig stated as his friend took a large swig of coffee. “You know as well as I do that when ya put feelings before your libido, it makes it official. Which also means you're gonna tell her the truth about yer real job, right?”

"Yeah, to a point."

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I'll tell her I'm a detective, and that I was reassigned, but not what or who it was in regards to.”

Craig nodded, looking wise. “It's got to do with that case you can’t talk about.”

“Yep.”

“Answer me this, then- is she worth you gettin' hurt on her behalf?"

Dante’s jaw tightened. "Yes."

"Would ya put up a fight for her if it comes down to that?”

"Damn straight I would!"

"Even if it means you breakin' ties with the force?"

Amber eyes narrowed. "I'll do...whatever's necessary."

Looking satisfied, Craig picked up his own cup. “Gonna let her know you love her?” He asked casually over the rim, suppressing a grin as his friend’s face instantly flooded with red.

“Yeah.” Dante admitted, after a crackling silence. “That's all I could think about all fuckin’ night. I’ve never said it to any woman I've gone with.”

Craig choked on his swallow of coffee. “S-Sandy?” He managed to get out, as he coughed and grabbed for a napkin.

“Never said it, and neither did she.”

“An' you were thinkin' of marryin' the woman? Oh man, that’s really sa-”

"No it ain't!" Dante interrupted hotly. "Now I know there was a reason I didn't! Sure, it hurt like hell to get dumped, but not sayin' it saved me from makin' a big mistake! If I had said it, Sandy might not have wised up an' gone back to her ex, and I wouldn't have met up with the one woman in this world I was meant to say those words to!”

"Miaka.” Craig supplied, as his friend paused for a breath.

“Yeah. Miaka.”

“So go an' tell her as soon as your shift is up!”

“She’ll still be at work.” Dante grumbled. “Dammit, I only I 'd gone straight home instead of stopping off at Kings, I coulda called her back last night!”

Craig smiled. “If ya really need an excuse to go see her before she gets home, why don’t you an’ me check out the Phoenix tonight? I’ve been wantin’ to try some Mongolian cuisine.” He winked.

“Don’t ya have to stick it out here?”

“Hell no! Joe an’ Abby are both back from vacation, an' they’ll be here from four until closing.”

“Then it's a go!” Dante agreed, looking much happier. “Is around seven okay? I wanna get a nap in if I can.”

“Sure. I’ll pick ya up at your place.”

“No way! I'll meet ya-“

Craig reached across the table and grabbed his friend’s hat, then smacked Dante smartly upside the head before tossing it back. "Why don'tcha try usin' both yer heads for once? If she's workin', won’t Miaka have her car there? And if I need to leave, wouldn't that mean she can give ya a ride home?”

“Oh...” Looking sheepish, Dante set the abused hat down on the table and smoothed a hand over his rumpled hair. "Yeah, she will. I forgot about that."

“Hmph! It’s a damn good thing ya got me around to think of these things for ya!”

The redhead grinned. “And for makin’ a great cup ‘o java!”

“Yer too kind, Tager, yer too kind. Need a refill?”

“Nah. I gotta get goin’.”

At that point, Craig was called to the phone, leaving his most loyal customer to finish the rest of his depth charge. Though there was a generous amount of espresso in the drink, Dante found he didn’t need it to set his heart hammering. Just the thought of finally having Miaka’s petal soft warmth beneath his lips and hands was enough of a stimulant…

Muttering a curse at the erotic turn his thoughts had taken, he quickly redirected them with a purposeful glance at his watch. It was time to get back to work. Hopefully the rest of his shift would be quiet and non-eventful, so he could give report and sign off right on schedule.

“Hey Wolfman, check it out!” Craig called, as his friend stood and slapped on his hat. The owner of Brew You was standing behind the service counter, a grinning, blue-haired twin posed on either side of him, facing outward. “Da ha ha! I got human bookends!”

Dante laughed as the giggling young women turned identical faces towards him. “You’re a sad, sad sack of a man, Bennett! I’ll see ya tonight!”

To be continued…

Reviewers of this chapter will receive illusionary bling and a magical squeegee!