Ta-da! It's finally here! Whew,
I can finally breathe! Firstly,
I think all those people who
still remained faithful and
patient deserve a huge THANK
YOU. I realize it takes nearly
a century for me to update, so
I appreciate all the emails and
reviews. Once again, be sure to
critique and email me.


Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own
Sailor Moon. Neither do I own
the Incredible Hulk nor those
munchkins from the Wizard of Oz.
To each character their
respective owners.


Chronicle Six

To be quite frank, I felt like someone had repeatedly

bludgeoned me with a satchel of cement bricks. Undoubtedly,

while I critically inspected my pale, utterly sorry looking face,

I looked like I had suffered such an experience.

With the assistance of an excellent lubricant, (and no,

not that type you gutter minded folk) I had managed to squeeze

my plump bottom into my office chair and set out to perfect a

marketing presentation for an important client who, as my boss

gracefully claimed, "Ate, drank, and shit money."

So commendable was my work ethic that I even forced

myself to endure the janitors' late night song and dance routines,

sometimes complete with frilly, brightly colored costumes.

Inject shiver. Mr. Kamito's imitations of Ricky Martin's derriere

sashays continued to vividly haunt my memories.

Scary. How utterly scary.

Truly, I deserved the 'Employee of the Decade' award for

surviving such frightening prospects. Especially when four

custodians had donned outfits that oddly resembled those of the

Village People and began to wildly prance to the beats of 'YMCA.'

So, as Fate would have it, just as I was about to collapse

happily onto the plush covers of my beckoning bed, the portable

phone rang. Angrily, I stared at the ringing contraption,

hopefully willing it into silence with the ugliness of my look.

When it did not heed my silent warnings, I reached over and

snarled nastily, "Yeah?"

"And good evening to you, Sunshine!" giggled Mina, sounding

far too happy and well rested to me, who had only received less

than 12 hours of sleep in the past two weeks.

"Seeing that I have acquired more, highly unattractive

wrinkles than an elephant, this had better be good. No, wait, let

me rephrase that. Pretty damn good," I negatively growled, happily

imagining myself reaching through the phone line and wringing her

oblivious neck.

"You wouldn't mind if the girls and I stopped over, would

you?"

"Yes, I would, actually! I'm nearly falling over from

fatigue, and I'm hardly in the hostess mo—," I paused in mid tirade

when the doorbell rang. Closing my eyes and muttering a trillion

Hail Mary's for my murderous thoughts, I choked out, "You wouldn't

happen to be standing at my door?"

"Uhh…no?"

Without bothering to respond, I carelessly hurled the

telephone across the room and raced to the entrance. I had my own

strong suspicions exactly who, or more accurately a group of whom,

was waiting on the other side.

My door flung open, revealing me, (tada!) who was glaring

quite frightening. "You don't realize how hard it is to battle

against the temptation of strangling each and every one of you

right now."

"Told you she was in a glorious mood," murmured Mina,

nervously edging away when I fiercely nailed her with a death-

inducing glance.

"I am going to slam this door shut unless I hear a damn

good reason why my precious sleep was so rudely interrupted."

"Wow…you really should do something about those dark

circles. It looks like someone gave you two, nasty black eyes,"

sincerely observed Lita. As she leaned forward to poke and examine

my scrunched face, she was immediately pulled back by an observant

Rei, who noted my tightening expression.

"Thanks for elegantly pointing that out," I fumed. Honestly,

did I need someone else to point out that I looked like something

the cat dragged in! Inject annoyed growl.

"Mind if we come in?"

"Yes."

I relished the confused pause. Yes, I realize I can be purely

evil. Isn't it wonderful?

"But we have a present for you!" chirped Ami, dangling the gift

bag like a marinated steak. My eyes instantly followed its pendulum

like swung, and my body was consumed by that childish impulse to

lunge at it. That feeling was very reminiscent of my wolfish behavior

on Christmas morning as a child.

Luckily, I fought against that magnetic sensation, and snapped,

"How exciting. I'm riveted, really I am. Come back tomorrow."

Before I could even savor the satisfaction of slamming the door

in their faces, (I realize I was acting beyond genteel, but it was the

lack of sleep talking, not sweet, angelic me!) Rei, with her customary

air of bossiness, dryly laughed.

"Listen here, Meatball Head, we did not drive over here to waste

our gas, especially with those monstrous prices." With that explanatory

comment, she immediately strode forward, valiantly fighting a growing

grin when she observed my bewildered face. Nodding and murmuring

their agreement, the rest of my dearly beloved, soon to be departed

friends scrambled in suit, each woman trying not to be at the back

of the huddle. They fearfully whispered among themselves of the strange

gleam in my eyes and the possibility of me transforming into the

Incredible Hulk. Snapping out of my amazed trance, I flounced after

the murmuring pack.

Some would compliment their faithfulness, but I simply denounced

it as annoying persistence.

"Sit down, sit down," clucked Mother Hen Ami, pulling me beside

her and affectionately slipping her arm through mine.

Before I could bitch about their discourtesy, Mina skipped to

the center of my living room, cleared her throat, and began in a

ridiculously dramatic voice, "Seeing how diligently you have worked on

that marketing presentation, the girls and I decided to reward your

efforts with a gift from our hearts. Let us hope it fulfills its uses."

Somehow, the others found her last comment highly amusing, for

much to my irritation, they dissolved into high pitched peals of

laughter. At once, they exploded into thunderous applause and hoots,

seemingly dazzled by her words. Lita kicked my feet to signal that I

should mirror their actions, but I positively refused to partake in

their insanity.

Such strange creatures. I often wondered how I wound up with

such an odd lot.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, can you stop it already!" I cried after

five minutes of consecutive clapping. Shaking her head at my impatient

outburst, my fair friend glided forward, sweepingly bowed, and deposited

a glittery, lavender gift bag into my unexpected lap.

Sighing rather loudly, I began to sift through the contents,

which thus far consisted mainly of tissue paper. And even more tissue

paper, I noted with furrowed eyebrows. Whatever this present was, it

was buried by at least twenty five pounds of tissue paper. Finally,

I gingerly reached for something neon pink near the bottom of the gift

bag.

I was rendered utterly speechless. It was…

"Only five speed?" I feigned a disappointed expression,

clutching at my heart as if in physical agony.

"Amazing. I didn't realize you were such an insatiable horn

dog," commented Ami in astonishment, adjusting her glasses to closely

scrutinize me. Shocked by the uncharacteristic remark, I chortled at

her reaction and at the ludicrous gift my wacky gaggle had purchased.

"All right, you guys managed to somewhat cheer me up, stop

smiling like braggarts."

"I believe Darien Junior was just what the doctor ordered,"

declared Mina happily.

Upon hearing her casual slip, I actually choked on my own

saliva, and began to cough violently. Lita's protective instincts

suddenly reared their motherly head as she repeatedly whacked me on

the back, bellowing 'breathe!' in a commanding voice.

"Come again?" I gasped after I barely recovered.

"It shouldn't be such a surprise! Seeing that you already

have an insane crush on the actual gentleman, Darien Junior seemed

only appropriate," hastily explained my blonde friend, rounding my

quaint dining table when she noted my hands tightly clench.

"Firstly, twenty nine year old women do not develop childish

'crushes!' Secondly, I do not have a crush on Darien!"

"Would obsession be a better term?" Ami thoughtfully

suggested.

"This is ridiculous! I have no feelings for Darien,

whatsoever."

"What about lust?"

"Lust isn't an emotion," I quickly quipped, blushing at

the appearance of their smug grins. "Stop smiling like that."

"Then, pray tell, what is lust?"

"Err…the bodily demonstration of hormones gone bonkers,

of course."


Reference: Page 165 of Serena's Dictionary.
*Note: Disregard Webster's version*




The definition sounded genuine enough, I mentally

commended myself.

"Unfortunately, you couldn't be more wrong. Lust is the

basis for many relationships."

"Fortunately, I have no intentions of even forming the base

of a relationship with Darien."

"Keep your shirt buttoned, Meatball Head. We were only

teasing," Rei soothed, clasping my hands with hers.

Haughtily tossing my ponytail over my shoulder, I nonchalantly

replied, "Quite right, the sheer possibility of Darien and I

getting together is laughable enough."

"Before the Blonde Bombshell detonates, why don't we head

back home, troop?" forcibly proposed Rei before love guru Mina could

comment.

"Great idea, I'm about to fall over from fatigue," I

smothered a yawn.

"Girls, you wouldn't believe it! Yesterday, I met the most

wonderful man at the grocery store!" chattered Lita. In her state

of excitement, she rattled the frail Ami like a rag doll as she

skipped to the door.

"Let me guess, he reminded you of your old boyfriend?" I

quipped solemnly, biting my lip to keep from releasing a shout of

laughter when she glanced wondrously at me.

"How did you know that?"

"Wild guess, of course."

"As amazing as her powers of deduction are, I'm afraid we

must be going. Now," Rei insistently tugged on Lita's leather

purse, shaking her head disapprovingly at my wicked sense of humor.

"Thanks for the gift!" I shouted after their disappearing


figures. With an exhausted sigh, I trudged back to my bedroom,

and promptly collapsed into a nearly death like slumber.




"What are you doing here?" I demanded, fixing an admittedly

rude look upon the approaching Darien. With his slate gray business

suit perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he

looked every bit the suave, utterly gorgeous businessman, I grumpily

noted through lowered eyelashes.

"I was invited to lunch with the girls today, if you must


know," listlessly explained Darien, placing his briefcase on the chair

beside me. As he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his silk,

periwinkle tie, my mouth positively watered when I instantly noted

the defined muscles rippling beneath his impeccably starched, white

dress shirt.


Bad Serena: Take it off, take it off!
Good Serena: I got a dollar!
Bad Serena: Isn't that supposed to be my line?


I shook my head, as if trying to mentally rouse my dormant

common sense. He was even infecting my morally opposing hosts!

Honestly, what was wrong with me?

"Oh? And by whom?"

"If I'm not mistaken, it was Lita."

I muttered something about where the loyalties of true

friends lay before returning to my menu, trying to ignore his warm

presence when he occupied the seat beside me. After a few seconds,

I sneaked a glance, only to find the insufferable jerk staring quite

openly at me. Much to my annoyance, my heart leapt out of my chest,

and suddenly my hormones began to perform the 'shagging' ritual.

Realizing my face continued to resemble a tomato more and more as

the seconds ticked by, I purposefully shielded myself with the

laminated menu.

Stupid, stupid Serena. Stop acting so daft! My mental

chastisements were interrupted by rich, velvety laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

Uneasily, (well, only on my part, the exasperating jerk

looked perfectly composed) we placed our orders with yet another,

susceptible schoolgirl of a waitress. Thrice, I had to repeat my

order because she was too preoccupied with displaying her basketball

twins to listen to my requests for a grilled chicken Caesar salad.

Women.

Arms crossed across my chest, I watched as Darien's eye

momentarily followed after the seductive waitress before returning

my disapprovingly glare.

"What is it now, sweetheart?"

"I'm not your sweetheart, mister. And I was just reminded

of men's innate ability to act like pigs."

Once we received our orders, Darien thoughtfully commented,

"I don't think I'll ever understand you."

"Did I ask for you to understand me?" I retorted, deliberately

turning my head opposite of his direction.

He chose that timely moment to chuckle quietly. Deducing

that I was the object of his amusement, I glowered threateningly and

demanded, "Will you stop laughing at me?"

"I don't think you realize how adorable you are," he casually

lifted a hand to my blushing cheeks. Propping an elbow on the table,

he slowly leaned towards me, sensually stroking my high cheekbones.

That finger slowly traveled south to trace my bottom lip, undoubtedly

rubbing off my already fading lipstick. My tongue, moving on its own

accord, sneaked out to wet my suddenly dry mouth, but in turn, licked

his probing finger. His eyes, watching the entire display with heavy

lids, flew up to meet my wide ones. For several, impossibly long moments,

he gazed piercingly at me, as if trying to decide how to respond to my

wanton actions. Moving, let alone breathing properly, was out of

question, as I found myself rooted to my chair. I believe that I tried

to speak, but embarrassingly enough, it sounded like unintelligible

gurgles.

My eyes closed fittingly when I felt his breath brush against

my parting lips. I was bombarded with the sensations of strong fingers

outlining the cups of my bra, a lush mouth nuzzling my ears.

Heavens, I wanted that man to kiss me senseless and much, much

more.

And just as I admitted that to myself, my evil, useless cell

phone sprang to life with a digital interpretation of the Sugar Plum

Fairy sequence.


"Damn it!" I muttered rather loudly, my trembling fingers

fumbling for my pocketbook. Since I am a nimble person and I am

capable of conducting myself appropriately, I happened to knock over

my purse in the hapless process, spilling all the contents onto the

table.

"Damn it!" this time, I shouted my frustration. Hastily, I

shoved makeup compacts, random receipts, breakfast bars, and candy

wrappers back into my shoulder bag, pleading with every deity that

entered my mind for just one, uninterrupted minute.

"I'm assuming that this is yours?"

"Thank y—eek!" I screeched, flailing my arms as I leapt out

of my seat, my face contorted with absolute horror.

"Sorry we're late, traffic was a pure monster!" announced

Rei, completely unaware of my present situation. Scrutinizing her

closer, I reconsidered her innocence.

"Serena? What's wrong, honey?" demanded Lita, but her

inquiries were instantly hushed when she noted the line of my


vision.

"How the HELL did that get in my purse!" I shouted, wildly

pointing to a painfully familiar neon pink object embedded in

Darien's pasta. Averting a half furious, half mortified stare to

my guilty gaggle of former comrades, I repeated my question with a

double measure of pure, feminine rage.

"Hughes, calm down," Darien soothed, his hands rubbing the

stiff muscles of my back with infinite care.

"Calm down? I think it's going to take at least two weeks

before my face returns to its normal color! Just look at that…at

that…!" I stuttered idiotically, grasping for the appropriate phrase.

I wasn't certain who the culprit was, but I distinctively

heard someone murmur 'penis pasta.' My eyes narrowed, trying to

discern the brave comedian in the making.

"Oh, very clever! I didn't think you girls were capable

of something so underhanded, so despicable! Clearly," gesturing

to the horrifying evidence, "I was wrong!"

"I'm sure it began as an innocent joke, no harm intended.

Besides, it's not as if I was born yesterday, Hughes. I am

aware that plenty of healthy, attractive women use similar..," he

quickly groped for a suitable word, "instruments to keep alive.

Really, it's not something to get riled about. Here, by the way,"

he nudged me and discreetly offered me the pleasure oriented

contraption.

"Excuse me, but I do not use that…that instrument to keep

me alive, thank you very much!" I snapped. Snatching the cleaned

vibrator out of his grasp, I quickly shoved it into my pocketbook

while I surreptitiously surveyed the entire restaurant for onlookers.

Luckily, everybody was too concerned with their own food to worry

about a particular, half crazed blonde and her vibrator troubles.

Somehow, that oddly comforted me.

"Darien's absolutely right. How about we all sit down,

like normal adults, and enjoy our lunch break?" placidly suggested

Ami, elegantly sliding into her usual seat while silently imploring

me with her convincing, indigo eyes.

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but obeyed her plea for

harmony. Cautiously, as if expecting me to explode and lash out

randomly, the others slowly seated themselves. Out of the corner

of my eye, I could see Rei visually tracing the route for the

nearest fire escape should I do something deliciously horrible like

attack her with my fork and spoon. Mina was ever so slightly moving

her seat closer to Lita, clearly hoping that the brunette would

shield her from any attacks.

"So, what should I order?" questioned Rei.

"Spaghetti sounds good today. I've been craving that for

weeks now," Lita babbled while she curiously noted Mina pressed

closely to her armrest, ducked down in the strangest defensive

stance.

"Good idea."

"You guys all set with your orders?" the waitress returned,

fluttering her eyelashes at a grinning Darien. I rolled my eyes,

the pig. And to think I actually wished he would kiss me senseless.

Was I taking wrongly prescribed medication?


Bad Serena: Would overactive hormones be considered a medication?
Me: Oh, shaddup!


Darien did not turn me on, damn it! How many times did I

need to remind my sex deprived body that? So what if his shoulders

were wonderfully broad, especially in those tailored business suits?

So what if his hands were just the most enticing combination of

callused tenderness? So what if I was fighting against the headiest

urge to leap into his lap, rip off that beautiful Ralph Lauren suit,

and ravage the poor man until he and I couldn't walk for a week?

Disgusted with myself, I took a wholly unfeminine swig of

my water and monstrously burped out my frustrations.

"Bravo," he quietly commented, while the others, waitress

included, stared openly at me.

Hardly caring of their quite obvious thoughts, I defiantly

drained the remaining drops in my glass. After the vibrator

incident, what else could possibly match that?

"I'll take your penis pasta," Rei decided from behind her

menu.

Well, that remark slid in as a close second.

Quickly registering what actually slipped out of her mouth,

she actually gasped in pure shock, and stammered stupidly to correct

herself. "I mean, er, just pasta! No penis included. Ouch! I

mean, yes, spaghetti and meatballs. By balls, I mean—OUCH!" After

she finally choked out an innuendo free order, she glared at Lita,

whose lips was twitching suspiciously. Then, ever so warily, she

swiveled her gaze to me. If it wasn't for Ami-the-Pacifist, who was

trying her best to act mature about the damn situation, I would have

reached into my purse and easily whacked her over the head with very

object she found so hilarious. Darien made no attempts to even hide

his amusement, as he laughed outright at the former priestess'

wonderful ability to dig herself into deep, pain promising cavities.

"Stop glaring at me, it was a sincere accident!" Rei argued.

"The penis pasta slip up or placing my 'gift' in my purse?"

"The penis slip up, of course!"

"So you deliberately staged the entire vibrator spaghetti

scenario!"

"Stop placing words in my mouth! I never said that!"

"Oh? Exactly what are you trying to say?"

My, wasn't I on a roll? I definitely picked up a few

pointers from Dad, having been interrogated by him numerous times

for being caught red handedly sneaking into my own house. Somehow,

he was highly doubtful of the possibility of me sleepwalking.

Perhaps the heavy makeup and the outrageously miniscule amount of

clothing I was wearing were a giveaway.

Mina, sensing her desperation and my bloodlust, reached

over, patted her on the back, and advised piteously, "Why don't you

just quit while you're ahead?"



"Stop acting like such a child, Hughes," a silky baritone

purred in my ear. As I prepared a witty retort to his gentle

chastisement, I felt a familiar hand encircle the nape of my neck,

applying just the perfect bit of pressure to send stimulating thrills

down my spine. But instead of leaning into his warmth, I shrugged

off his touch and bristled like a raging wolf.

"It wasn't the least bit funny! To be perfectly honest, it

was quite embarrassing!" I angrily corrected him, stamping my foot to

display my extreme sophistication.

"Oh?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's just hilarious to you, Mr. I'm-the-Most-

Wanted-Bachelor-in-Tokyo! Isn't just hysterical that I, Serena Hughes,

need a vibrator to survive a sorry excuse of a love life? Well," I

abruptly turned to face Darien, who had been quietly trailing behind

me while I loudly ranted, and poked his broad chest repeatedly, "you

couldn't be more wrong! I don't need a plastic, neon pink pleasure

toy to get my kicks!"

Several onlookers momentarily paused mid-step and overtly

gawked at my rather explicit exclamation. One senior citizen, who

had been hobbling about on her cane, shouted at me to display some

decency in public, but immediately shut up once I threatened to

filch her walking stick.


Annoying Inner Voice: So you sunk that low to insult old,
defenseless ladies?


Damn straight.

"There's nothing wrong with that, I'd say it's only

natural. And besides, I don't believe you're pathetic at all.

Far from pathetic, actually," he grinned, and trapped my hand

between his own and his muscular chest.

"Please, lying doesn't suit you, Langston. I recommend for

you to remain obnoxiously truthful," I scornfully advised, watching

in half horror, half excitement when he lifted my hand and brushed

his extremely wicked lips against my knuckles. I nearly fainted

on the bustling streets of Tokyo when his delicious mouth slid across

my fingers and softly kissed the tips of my fingers. Faintly, I

heard several female bystanders sigh dreamily.

Startled wouldn't even describe my emotions when I ripped

my stare from his roving lips and found a decent crowd of half

drooling women surrounding us. One lady, luxuriously lost in a mink

coat, whacked her balding husband with her Gucci purse and, while

irately indicating to Darien, demanded, "Why can't you be more like

him!"

Blushing furiously, I tugged at my hand and fiercely whispered,

"Let go of me!"

"What ever is the matter, Hughes? First, you complain how men

are so insensitive, but you still carp when one does shower you with

attention."

"Yes, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I complained

of sensitivity!" I said through gritted teeth. With one, monstrous effort,

I liberated my thoroughly lavished hand, which was still tingling from

the sensuality of his butterfly kisses, and frowned fiercely to mask the

urge to launch myself (naked!) into his arms.

Refusing to make eye contact, I resumed my journey back to the

office.

"As I said before, I don't think I'll ever understand you," he

reflected. Rejecting the tempting inclination to mutter something

vulgar, I continued to weave through the masses, pointedly ignoring

his much unwanted presence.


Serena's rampart hormones: Who the hell said unwanted?
Serena's highly intelligent mind: I did, you buffoons!


"Good, then stop trying."

"What is your problem against me, Hughes, and men for that

matter?" demanded Darien, evidently my attitude finally cracking

through his composed exterior. Lifting an eyebrow, I propped myself

against a traffic pole, waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign

to blink.

"I just don't understand why you enjoy bothering me with

pointless questions."

"Such as…?"

"Well…err…, you know!" I sputtered, averting my eyes when

his wintry blue gaze became particularly piercing. As we waited

in a contemplative silence, he continued to regard me with

growing intensity, his eyes seeming to melt my frigid façade.

I almost 'eeped' when Darien abruptly leaned forward, his

powerful hands resting lightly on my outstretched elbow.

"Actually, I haven't a clue to what you're talking about.

Why don't you enlighten me?" he rasped, never breaking his

commanding stare as his feathery touch slowly slid from

my elbow, down my goose bumped covered forearm, and halted at

my trembling fingers. His hands began to weave through mine,

and I watched in fascination as his thumb began to gently

massage mine in an alluring, circular motion.

"You know, those questions about women that never

cease to puzzle men!"

"Is it wrong to be interested in the way that you,

Serena Hughes, think? Because really, it just shows my

growing fascination with you," he smiled broadly, breaking

every statute of personal space as he leaned in impossibly

close. Out of the corner of my eye, the Fates demonstrated

some mercy and decided at that moment that the traffic light

would change from green to red. Too inexperienced to

properly handle his flustering attentions, I slipped out

of his embrace and began to immerse myself with the crowd.

"Can't stand there forever!" I said, shrugging in

convincingly feigned innocence when Darien reappeared at my

side.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"That!"

"What's that?" I deliberately dodged his question, knowing

full and well exactly what he was referring to: my cowardly

ways. But, not in any way, shape, or condition was I

capable of facing him, my friends, my opposing entities, my

heart. After all, I was a Class One Coward, and if need be,

bitch.

"Save me your blonde bimbo routine. You're too

intelligent for that, Hughes."

"Look Langston, I enjoyed this heart to heart, honestly,

I did. But, lunch break is nearly over and my bear of a

boss is probably standing right outside my office door,

waiting for my arrival. Why don't you follow in suit, call

a cab, and get to work?" I breezily suggested, patting his

forearm to signal my departure.

"You have exactly thirteen minutes," Darien blocked my

heavenly escape route, for all I needed to do was follow

the yellow brick road straight through those revolving

doors. Images of brightly dressed munchkins literally

danced through head, as they sang in high pitched voices to

that easily recognizable tune. Unfortunately, the Wicked Jerk

of the Oriental East was hindering my runaway, and there was

no possibly way of squeezing my voluminous curves past.

"And…?"

"We're going to talk."

"Who says?"

"I say, you saucy little minx."

"You have absolutely no authority over me, Langston.

I'm not another employee at your Daddy's company," and without

indulging him with a single glance behind, I strode purposefully

into to the building and boarded the empty elevator. Mentally,

I cheered louder at a football stadium during the Superbowl,

which is a fairly commendable feat, at my wittiness, at my luck,

at just how wonderfully I shoved Darien's arrogance down his own

throat.

Serena, Superwoman. Wooo, I thoroughly enjoyed the sound

of that.

Serena, the Sensational. Wow, lightening almost struck me,

that nickname sounded so damn…sensational.

As more monikers bombarded my mind, the two doors that

began to slide shut immediately swung back open when an expensive,

Italian leather shoe squeezed in between. Gawking, I wordlessly

watched as Darien sauntered into the elevator, hit that forbidden

red button, and glued me to my very spot with his intense gaze.

"We're going to talk, right now," he announced.

"What is the matter with you? I need to get back to work,

my boss has a tendency to send out a search and rescue even if you're

only a minute late!" I reminded him. Tossing my chignon in his face,

I leaned forward to push that same red button to resume my voyage

back to my office. Unfortunately, I was rendered useless when

Darien grabbed my arm with little force and pressed me against the

wall. Too flabbergasted to speak, I gaped up at his alarmingly

handsome face.

"You've displayed the worst table manners in front of me, and

weren't the least bit embarrassed. But lo and behold, a vibrator

should slip into my main course, and you're mortified."

"I think a vibrator is a bit more shocking than burping!"

"Some women might beg to differ."

"Some women are not in their right minds."

"That's very traitorous of you to admit."

"Eh, if the shoe fits."

"I think that you were implicitly revealing something, out

when you were ranting about your shortcomings."

"Will you stop saying that, already? Your thinking is completely

bonkers! I could care less of your opinion of me!"

"Then explain your previous comments about me, 'the eligible

bachelor', laughing at you, the supposed 'pathetic single girl,' because

you own a vibrator?"

I did open my mouth to protest, to deny, to cleverly comment at

least. But even if the livelihood of future generations lay on my

shoulders, I couldn't have concocted a response! A gurgle, even.

Immediately, I closed my O-shaped mouth, not wanting to appear any more

an idiot than already possible.

Damn it, he was absolutely right. I did actually place some value

on the bastard's thoughts and opinions, more than I truly liked to admit.

But his over inflated ego did not need another dosage of helium, and I

was not willing to provide that extra dosage.

"And what about your unexplained bouts of jealousy?" he demanded,

his hands beginning to trace down the ridges of my spine. I shivered,

despite myself. Uneasily, I began to slide out of his embrace, but

upon noting this, he only pulled me closer.

"I…I…," I stammered, feeling my face grow red at his knowing

touch.

"And what about this ridiculous temptation for me to kiss you?"

he menacingly demanded. To that, I had no clever response, but that

was hardly necessary seeing that he crushed my lips with his own.

At first, I was ever resistant, both to shocked and angered by his

audacious tactics. Sensing this, he pressed a warm hand to the

small of my back and outlined my entire mouth with his wonderful

tongue. With a surrendering sigh on my part, he invaded my mouth

with sensual flicks of his tongue, and I could only arch

encouragingly against his muscular body. His other hand tugged

on my chignon, urging my head back. By doing this, he continued

to kiss me another angle that left me completely open to the hot

onslaught of his wet tongue and knowing hands.

I never had such a strong conviction for the afterlife until

then, because I was certain I was in heaven.

My hands wrapped around his neck, my tongue was completely

consumed with battling against his. I felt his skillful touch

glide over the curve of my hip and up my ribcage, and finally,

to my chest. One large hand engulfed my left breast, while his

thrumb lightly rubbed my hardening nipple, evident through my

white, silk blouse. As electricity spread like a wild fire in a

dry savanna throughout my body, I pressed into his touch and

groaned into his mouth, increasing the speed of my dueling tongue.

Suddenly, I wanted to be in my bedroom, instead of this the

Dratted elevator. Rather on the bed, rather than pressed against

the cold metal of the elevator wall. But when his thumb began to

massage faster, all thoughts were lost.

It seemed like an eternity when we finally untangled ourselves.

I was breathing heavily, I felt like I had just finished a five

Kilometer race instead of senselessly kissing the very man who had

once been my sworn enemy. Feminine pride surged when I observed

Darien's flushed face and equally labored breathing, he was clearly

as affected by the quite explicit kiss as I was. I had been kissed

plenty before, more frogs than anything remotely prince material,

but that…that exchange between Darien and I would remain in a

class by itself.

For a few seconds, we were silent, too shocked and aroused

to shatter the hot moment with pointless words. I had released

probably twenty nine years of pent up sexual frustration in that

one kiss, and my hormones and lips were prepared to repeat the

entire incident once again. Finally, Darien approached me again.

Leaning down, he tenderly brushed his lips against my swollen ones,

and murmured, "I'm going to call you this Saturday. Be sure to

keep your schedule and line open, Hughes."

I nodded and gulped audibly. He smiled another heart

melting smile, pressed that crimson knob, and departed from my

particularly horny presence.



News at six o'clock: Unknown blonde, claimed to be foaming at
the mouth, is seen chasing after a cluster of four women. If the
offender is caught, she could be charged for carrying a weapon
without a license. Keep a lookout, she is armed and dangerous.



Whew, I think that is probably one of
my most descriptive kissing scenes to
date. I was a little hesitant writing
it, to be honest. But, once again,
tell me, dear readers, your reaction.

::runs for pom poms. Adopts cheerleader-
esque smile::

Give me a R!

R!

Give me an E!

E!

Give me a V!

V!

Give me an I!

I!

Give me a E!

E!

Give me a W!

W!

What's that spell?
REVIEW! WOOOHOO!

Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com