Author's Note: Oh God...why do I keep doing this to myself?! Starting another damn fic!!

I guess the ideas were just flowing last night while I was sitting around the house. Oh man, I'm going to end up with like 11 fics floating around like a certain author pal of mine! I can't handle that as well as she can. I must learn to put ideas on hold.

Ah well.



Chapter 1: The Ad

"Sir, the reports on the Samehada and Momojiri Merger are almost finished and should be on your desk by tomorrow morning."


"And you also have a meeting at three pm with the head of Daidoji International."


Hannya fought the urge to sigh at the tall man seated before him with a face set as if in stone. It was as if no emotion could flicker across a face that many women found startlingly handsome, and that his blue eyes were like ice. Perhaps it was this demeanor that had earned his employer and close friend the nickname of of 'Ice King'.

Shinmori Aoshi, the CEO of Oniwaban National, at the age of twenty-eight was more like a zombie than man some thought. Ever since his accident two years earlier.

"Is that all Hannya?"

"Hai, Okashira." Hannya murmured, then left Aoshi's office.

He had been friends with Aoshi since they were teenagers, but even still Hannya was feeling the chill from Aoshi's behavior. But Hannya could not blame Aoshi for it. Had he been in Aoshi's shoes he would of most likely gone insane and withdrawn.

What Aoshi really needed now, Hannya decided, was someone to brighten up his life.


Misao groaned as she looked at bills before her on the small table of her kitchen. Her phone, electrical/utilities and rent bills stared at her with menace as she rested her hand in her chin and frowned. As much as she loved her Jiya and loved working for him at the Aoiya, it wasn't enough to pay her bills. Getting up and grabbing a Coke from the kitchen, Misao grabbed the newspaper and flipped through the Wanted Ads, wondering if she could find a decent paying job with hours that were flexible enough for her to work and go to classes.

Playing with the end of her braid, she grabbed a Sharpie and began circling job options and was dismayed that only two things were circled so far: Desk clerk at a karaoke bar or department store hostess.

Neither appealed to her at all.

Skimming the pages, her eyes came across an ad.

'Businessman with Disablity Looking for Live-In Assistant. Must be qualified and have professional attitude. Pay will be negotiable upon hire.'

Misao scratched her head. She wasn't certifiably qualified for the job, but she did have experience when Jiya had broke a his leg and arm and she could be professional if she tried. Tearing the ad out, she placed it in her pocket and got ready for her Marketing class.

"Disabled? Probably some old man who needs help walking and wants a slave. could be good pay....damn hefty tuition...grr."

Grabbing a banana, Misao slipped into her shoes, grabbed her keys and ran off past her obnoxious landlord who was screeching that she 'better have her rent bill paid or else!'

She ran down the street, her long braid trailing as she ran towards the campus making a note to call about the ad after class. After fifteen minutes of semi-jogging and saying quick hellos to her friends as she passed by, Misao made her way into her class and slumped into desk catching her breath.

"Oi, Makimachi, did you remember to bring the book?"

Turning at the sound of her name, she blinked at her classmate Sanosuke and then smiled.

"Yep! You?"

"Surprisingly yes. Fox reminded me six times this morning."

"Ahhh...such an organized fiancee. Just what you need." Misao teased, thinking of the pretty med student whom Sanosuke had been engaged to for the past six months. The minute the spikey haired brunette had set eyes on the pale skinned beauty it was instant attraction.

"Sometimes she's too organized. She bought a label maker. A LABEL MAKER! What the hell could she possibly need a label maker for?"

Misao shrugged.

"Maybe she likes putting her name on stuff?"

"Next thing I know she'll want me to tattoo her name on my ass."

Misao choked back on laughter and quickly silenced as their professor walked into the room. Grabbing her pen and opening her notebook she prepared to diligently take notes. It wasn't that she particularly enjoyed Marketing, but she needed to keep her grades up. Misao wasn't sure what she wanted to do when she graduated college, but she at least wanted some business classes under her belt.

Her mind drifted to the ad in the back pocket of her jeans and she wondered whether or not it was worth pursuing, but her options were slim to none as it was. It would most likely be for some old businessman who would probably leer at her or demand she serve his every whim. As much as she didn't like the idea of possible servitude, perhaps the man was nice like her Jiya?

She wouldn't know until she got an interview. Mind set, she chewed at her pen as the lecture continued. Soon enough her class ended and after a quick goodbye to Sanosuke, she made her way to the payphone in the hall and dialed the number.

"Hello?" a deep voice answered.

Misao was startled at the velvet deep voice that answered, but quickly recovered and coughed softly.

"Yes, hello. My name is Makimachi Misao, and I'm calling in regard of the ad in the paper."

"Aa, and you would like an interview?"

"Um, well yes. That's why I called."

"Very well then, I will give you the address. Is five o'clock suitable?"

"Yes, I can manage that."

Misao memorized the address spoken to her and after thanking the person on the phone hung up.

"Geez, nice voice but frosty demeanor. Sounds younger than an old guy. Maybe he was a secretary or something." she quietly mused to herself. Shrugging it off she went to her next class and soon enough 4:30 rolled around and her classes were over.

"Ah, son of a bitch!" she murmured loudly as the minute she stepped outside she was assaulted by rain as it had decided to storm a bit.

Running onto the street she cursed herself for not buying one of those small umbrellas in the commercials she always mocked. She could feel her jeans and purple tank top beginning to drench as she raced downtown towards the business section. Locating her destination, she stopped in front of the receptionist desk and gasped for breath.

"Um...can I help you?"

Misao glanced at the receptionist and felt herself growing embarrassed under the gaze of the violet haired woman.

"Yes, I have an appointment with...well actually I'm not sure. It's in response to this ad." she mumbled, pulling the semi-damp ad from her pocket and showing the receptionist.

"Ah, Shinomori-san's ad. I see." Kaoru murmured, taking in Misao's appearance then smiled.

"Take the elevator to the fourth floor. It's the office at the end on the hall."

"Ah, thank you." Misao said bowing politely and stepped into an elevator. She leaned back against the wall, shivering slightly as the air conditioning met her damn skin. Hearing a soft ding, she stepped out of the elevator and headed for the last office, wincing as her sneakers made squish noises as she walked.

Grabbing the handle, she sighed, and turned it and walked into the office.

"Can I help you?"

Misao's eyes widened slightly at the sight of what had to be the most good-looking man she had ever seen in her entire life seated behind a large mahogany desk.

"Yes, I have an appointment for an interview....with you I believe. I'm Makimachi Misao."

She felt her nerves work up as his sharp blue gaze looked her over, taking in her damp, disheveled appearance and her bangs plastered to her face. It was a startling contrast to the sharp, black suited man behind the desk.

"I see. Have seat Makimachi-san." he said, his voice flat.

She nodded and took a seat, shifting as she felt the clamminess of her skin.

"Tell me Makimachi-san.."

"Mou! Please call me Misao." she interrupted, and gulped when he shot her a semi-annoyed look.

"As you wish. Tell me, Misao, what are your qualifications?"

Misao gulped.

"Well, I'm not certified or anything, but I spent months helping my grandfather recuperate from injuries and I'm a very hard worker. I can cook and I'm very professional."

Aoshi glanced her over again and arched an eyebrow.

"I can tell from your state of dishabille."

"Isn't that French?"

"Very good Misao. So, you have no certifications to be a care-giver and if I had to guess you are what? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Twenty-three." she said, slightly irritated. She always did look slightly younger than her age being so short.

"Forgive me. As I was saying, you have no certification and I'm assuming you're in college?"

"Yes, but my classes don't start until 11 and end at 4:30."

"I see." he said, folding his hands onto the desk.

Misao groaned, growing more and more agitated by Aoshi's aloof behavior.

"Look mister, I don't need this high class looking down on me crap! Since you're obviously not going to give me the job it's pointless to waste my time any further. Thank you for this interview and have a good day." she said sarcastically as she stood up and began walking towards the door.

Aoshi was...intrigued. And slightly amused. When was the last time he felt amusement?


Misao stopped at the deep voice resonating through the room and turned around, watching as Aoshi stood and moved from behind the desk, and Misao's eyes widened slightly as she noticed the black polished cane gripped in his hand as he slowly made his way towards her to stop and tower over her.

They stared at each other, ocean meeting ice as after a minute Aoshi nodded.

"When can you start?"

Misao blinked.


"Start. You got the job, Misao."


"Because, I've never met an applicant so far with the guts to yell at me. I need a strong person to help me and care little for flitty women."

Misao's mouth opened, then closed.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"It's just..I assumed the ad was to assist an elderly gentlemen. When we spoke I thought perhaps you were a secretary."

Aoshi's eyebrows furrowed.

"A naive assumption. Is this a problem?"

Misao gulped. Living with a gorgeous if not cold businessman?

'' she thought, but merely shook her head.

"It's no problem, Shinomori-san. I can start...whenever."

"Good. Then have your things ready to be moved in my house by this weekend. What I expect is that you help me with things around the house and any other tasks I require assistance with. Understood?"

"Yes, I'll just need to give my grandfather two weeks notice since I waitress for him.."

"Fine. I believe that brings this interview to the end. We can discuss pay at our next meeting."

"That's fine." she mumbled.

"Aa. Have a pleasant day and a note of advice."


"Please dress a bit more professional."

Misao's eyes furrowed.

"Yes, cause it was my intention to be rained on. Good day, Shinomori-san."

Slamming the door shut, Aoshi returned to his seat and sighed, eyes closing. His mouth then formed a slight smirk. Things were going to be interesting indeed.


Misao looked around her small apartment, blue flame decorated suitcases strewn on her floor as she sighed. It was crazy, taking the job like that, but it would in theory pay really well....

Now all that was left was.....talking to her landlord.

With a slump of her shoulders, she walked outside and down the hall and knocked on the door.


"Eh, Kamatari-san....I need a word."

The tall transvestite stepped out into the hall and glared down at Misao.

"Don't tell me, you want an extension on your rent?"

"Um no..the thing is. I got a new job as assistant so is there anyway to put my apartment on hold or something?"

Kamatari looked at Misao and smirked.

"No way, Makimachi. In fact, I'm selling out your apartment the first chance I get. You are a terrible tenant and I'll be glad to see you gone! GLAD!!"

"Geez you she-male have some mercy!!!!" Misao screamed and was immediately slapped hard in the face by Kamatari, which sent Misao reeling back as she collided with something hard...and warm....that had an arm wrapping around her waist.

"Excuse me, but I would appreciate you not abusing my employees."

Misao tensed at the deep voice of the person behind her.

Kamatari blinked and gulped.

"Well, be out as soon as possible!" Kamatari screeched at Misao before scurrying back into her apartment.

Misao rubbed her cheek and stepped away from Aoshi, embarassed.

"Um...thank you Shinomori-san."

"I'd prefer it if you called me 'Aoshi-sama'."

Misao blinked.

"Aoshi...sama...Are you serious?!"

Aoshi merely gazed at her and nodded.

"That's so dumb! Whatever, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" she asked, heading towards her apartment with Aoshi following slowly.

"Business, Makimachi-san."

"Ah, I'd prefer it if you call me Misao-sama since you'll be needing me and all."

She looked back and noticed the stern expression on his face.

"It was a joke, Aoshi-sama."

"How about I just call you Misao."

"Like I have a choice, you're my boss now." she mumbled as she moved her suitcases towards the door as Aoshi, feeling his legs get stiff, sat on her lime green couch and watched her. She was dressed in black sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt that zipped up that was grey.

"Do you own anything remotely professional looking to wear?"

"What does it matter? It's not like I'm working at your office or something..oh God don't tell me I have to work at your office because when you're at work is when I'm at classes and so help me I am NOT changing my class schedule to fetch you coffee!"

Aoshi blinked, his expression still neutral.

"You have an inane ability to talk for long periods of time and not need to take a breath."

Misao glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

"Since you obvious aren't helping me carry my stuff down, mind going three seconds without anything scathing to say to me beca..."

"Misao. Stop. Perhaps it would be best to call truce."

"I love how you just state things instead of suggesting." she mumbled sarcastically as she opened her door and gestured for him to lead. He stood up slowly and walked past her and waited in the hall as she wheeled a large suitcase and followed him.

30 minutes later all her suitcases were tucked away neatly in the back of Aoshi's Honda Civic. Sitting in the passenger seat she looked out the window a they drove towards Juuban.

"So having to drive you around won't be something I'll have to do obviously."


"Good. I haven't driven in over six months."

"Why is that?" Aoshi asked.

"Had to sell my car to pay rent."


Misao rolled her eyes.

"Yes, see those who are not fortunate enough to run companies often have to do unpleasant things to get by in life."

Aoshi continued driving.

"That sounds like something a prostitute once told me when I commented on her profession. She seemed put off that I denied her services."

Misao stared at him as if he had grown another head.

"You're very weird, Aoshi-sama." she commented as she looked back out the window.

Aoshi did not reply. He would have preferred the entire trip be done in silence, but that was something that seemed impossible with Misao around.

"How is that?"

"You're a statue."


"No. You don't seem to express much. I can't figure you out."

"It's not your job to do such."

"I see. Well excuse me if I want to get to know my employer better. I guess our work ethics differ."

Aoshi was about to reply, but refrained. In truth he had nothing to reply with. It was an odd feeling to be outdone in conversation, especially by such a girl as Misao. He was well-educated, astoundingly intelligent, and yet a mere waitress was it?, had the upper hand at the moment.

What was he getting himself into?