Chapter Seven
Disclaimers: Don't sue and don't copy!
AN: The extra rating for this one is because of some things that get said during this chapter. Nothing sick or depraved, but I would like everyone to read it carefully. I have some friends that I wish would take this more to heart than they do. Somehow, it ended up here. Questions, comments, need to get something off your chest? E-mail me! I make a pretty good psychologist. God bless. (Especially Sarah.) PS The end will make up for it!
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"My first real place! Oh, I'm soooo excited!!" Serena gushed as she walked around the empty apartment.
"Yeah, but did you have to pick something that's eight stories up?" her little brother Sammy asked as he carried in an end table.
"That would be my fault," Darien mussed. "Me and my big mouth! 'Go for the one higher up, it'll have a much better view'. Why did I volunteer for this?" he grumbled as he and her father struggled to slide a slightly battered couch through the narrow doorway.
"If I wasn't so tired. I'd hurt you for suggesting it!" was her father's comment.
"Now, Daddy!" she interrupted. "Darien's right, I have a much better view up here. It's totally great!"
"Yes Princess, but eight flights of stairs is more than your old father can take." They sat the couch aside and he walked up and hugged her. "Besides, I still don't like the idea of my little girl leaving home so soon."
"Dad!" She didn't want to go through this again. They had gone through all of it time and time again but her father refused to give her up. "It's not like I'm moving around the world. I'm less than a mile away. Besides, I can take care of myself. And I am Not a little girl!"
"Yes you are." He looked down at her and smiled crookedly.
"Daddy!" She was more than embarrassed. Sammy simply yawned absently, but Darien stood watching the whole event. A slight smile played in his eyes and she thought she could detect a smirk on his lips.
She wondered more than once today what he really thought about her family. She knew that he had lost both of his parents in a car accident when he was very young. The accident had left him with permanent amnesia as well. He had been raised in an orphanage and had never known what it was like to have a family.
She always accounted this as the reason for him being so closed to people. He didn't talk about himself much if it could be helped. His past he kept closed and locked tightly. Actually, everything about him was kept rather confidential.
"Are we moving furniture here or what?" Sammy commented.
"Why? Got a hot date tonight, ya little spore?!" Serena threw back at him.
"Wouldn't you like to know!"
"Date? What date? Have I met this girl?!" her father started in.
"Uh, I think there's still a bed frame down in the van Sammy," Darien commented as he headed for the door.
"Oh, Yeah! Coming!!" Sammy practically ran out the door after him.
*Gee, does he know my family or what?*
"Do I even dare ask why you numbered the boxes?" Darien commented.
"In the bedroom," she directed before answering him. "I didn't, Mom did. She always has these weird filing systems. Boxes one through five go in the bedroom, six and seven go in the kitchen, and eight goes in the living room. Although, now I can't remember what's in that one." She scratched her head and waited for Darien to set the box down.
"Great. So what's in all the other boxes that keep multiplying out of those cars?"
"Clothes."
"I shouldn't have asked," he mumbled and headed back out the door again.
"Yeah, wait." She grabbed an arm to stop him. Her father and Sammy were on their way down to the parking lot again and for once the two were alone. "Thanks for helping out. I know Dad and Sammy can be serious pains sometimes."
He laughed at the comment. "They're growing on me. Besides, I was the one that had to tell you to take this apartment."
"Yeah, your fault for giving me good advice."
"My curse in life. But the next time you move, you're on your own!" he said very pointedly.
"How did you ever get all of your stuff up to the tenth floor?"
"Andrew," he said simply.
She laughed just imagining the two lugging furniture up all those steps.
"Why do you think I've lived in the same place for so long? I can't leave!"
"No wonder Andrew's apartment was on the ground floor," she commented.
"Basically. And might I ask a possibly stupid question." Taking advantage of the hand she still had placed on his arm he led her over to the out of the way spot they had placed the couch. "What is this?"
"It's a couch," then thinking better of it she muttered, "sort of."
"Oh! For a while I thought you were planting an indoor garden. Tell me you didn't actually buy this furniture." He looked around the room with a pained expression.
The couch's feelings were torn by the comment. Much like the pink and orange flowered cloth was at the corners of the arms. The back bubbled into a rounded shape in the middle and the springs sagged at the same point. The cushions were faded and missing a decorative button here and there.
The end tables and coffee table were better. They were solid wood with glass insets on the tops. All in all they looked fine in the new surroundings. But the accompanying chair was a different story. It matched the couch in every way. Stains, rips, and fades included.
"No, I didn't buy it. Mom made the mistake of telling her Aunt Connie about me moving and needing furniture, so here it is."
"Is she in her late nineties by any chance?"
"Just about," she nodded. "But I'll get new stuff later. Besides I intend to buy it from one of those places that advertise 'we'll deliver and dispose'. Then they'll have to climb all those stairs."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He grabbed her up into a huge bear hug, but released her quickly looked back at the door. "I'd better get down there, your father will have a conniption if he catches me alone with his 'little princess.'" He laughed as she gave him a dirty look and rushed out the door.
"Conceited jerk!" she called after him.
Turning back to her surroundings she noticed how the shadows were growing. Her balcony faced east so she wouldn't be able to see the sunset tonight. She missed that already. She room had been on the west side so she always had a view of the sinking sun. Darien had commented on it earlier saying this way she would just have to get out of bed and check out the sunrises.
Like that was ever going to happen! No way she would be crawling out of a warm comfortable bed at five o'clock to look at some colored sky. At that time in the morning she didn't even see colors! He had laughed at her and simply shook his head as if giving up on her. She laughed now just thinking about it.
"Well, I'd better help them get the rest in. I can use the elevator for the smaller boxes," she thought to herself.
"Hey space cadet! Wake up!!"
"Sammy you are so annoying. You have to be the reason I'm moving out!"
"Well, gee, if I'd known that was all it took, I could have made you move out a long time ago!!"
"Well, I think this is it. Her father pulled one more box out of the van that the group stood in front of. Darien casually took it from his hands while Serena hugged him. "Thanks for the help Daddy," she whispered in his ear.
"You're welcome Serena."
"And you too Spore," she socked her brother in the arm. Being bigger than her now she didn't get to use physical violence on him much anymore.
"Yeah, yeah. Can we go home now?"
"I guess… Are you sure you don't need us to help you unpack and stuff?" he asked for the hundredth time.
"No Dad. Mom's coming by tomorrow anyway, so stop worrying and go home." She shoved him towards the rental van's front. "Take the van back and go home! Mom's going to flip because you weren't home for dinner. Now go!"
"All right, all right. You're sure you'll be fine here alone?"
"YES!"
"OK, leaving. Goodbye sweetheart," he landed a kiss on her forehead before she could stop him.
"Bye Daddy," was all that was left for her to say. He tossed a look over her shoulder to Darien who still held the last box in his hands.
"Thank you for your help Darien. Good night."
"Goodbye, Mr. Tsukino. Please tell your wife hello for me."
Her father grumbled something and turned to leave. Serena just smiled and let her family go. "You really do know how to get under his skin," she commented as she felt him walk up next to her while the two other men pulled out and drove away.
"What did I do?" he asked innocently.
"First of all," she spun on him, "you called me 'dearest' twice today—"
"Three times."
"—And then you were whispering something to me when he came up that one time—"
"It was completely harmless."
"—And just now," she finished.
"What about it?"
"Well, first that lovely little comment about tell Mom hello. Which I assume was because he gave you one of those 'I'll skin you alive if you touch my daughter' looks, and that was to remind him that my mother likes you. Am I right?"
"Close. But it was the more sever 'one wrong look and so help me you won't live to regret it' kind."
"And you didn't run. I'm impressed," she said in awe.
"No, that was what the wife reference was for," he commented slyly.
"Understood," she mumbled. Her father could certainly be that way. Poor Darien had seen more than his share of it and she had never even dated the man. Something could definitely be said for his nerves of steel. "You realize what the look was for right?"
"Humor me. What did I do this time?"
"You're still here and he's not."
"Which basically ensures that he will 'just happen' to pop back over in about twenty minutes to see if I'm STILL here."
"Exactly."
"So lets get you inside before he comes back!"
"You sound like some boyfriend that doesn't want to get caught on the couch."
"Not on that couch!"
"Hi Dad! Don't tell me you got lonely without me already," she teased as she let her father back into the apartment that he had just left. *Eighteen minutes. You really did unnerve him Dare!*
"So, Darien's already left?" he asked quietly while looking around to make sure no one was hiding in the closets.
"Yes, Dad. Now, what's up?" she asked flopping down on the couch.
"OOOOUUCH!!"
"What's wrong!?" Her father rushed over to her side.
She rubbed the small of her back painfully. "This thing stabbed me!"
"What did?"
"This poor excuse for a reclining commodity," she muttered through clenched teeth.
"Now you sound like Darien," her father mentioned.
"Does sound like him doesn't it," she said with a little laugh. "I think I'm around him too much."
"So do I."
Her father's comment was barely over a whisper, but she heard it and this time she chose not to ignore it. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"Nothing princess." He leaned over to examine the broken spring, which had been the offending article.
"It's not nothing. I've known Darien for over five years now, and you still act like he's some psycho stalker out to get me or something. What's the deal?"
He turned towards her slowly. This was not something he had expected she was sure. "Has it already been five years?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Last month. Now give. What is it that makes you not trust him?" He wasn't going to get away with dodging the question.
"I never said I didn't trust him."
"Oh yeah? So why are you here again not twenty minutes after you left?" she asking pointedly.
"I forgot to… uh…"
"Forgot the excuse you were going to give me when you came in," she finished for him. "Daddy, you came to make sure he wasn't still here. We both realized it the second you left. Darien knows you better than you might think and he is still helping me out in things like this," she waved a hand around the room. "He'll never stop being there for me. I don't understand why you don't see that."
"I do see that, honey. I see it every time you're together."
She stood there confused at his words. He sat down, very tenderly, on the couch away from the broken spring and patted a spot for her. She mutely sat down next to him.
"You keep telling me he's just a friend. Tell me truthfully, it's more than that isn't it?"
She looked directly into his eyes and suddenly she knew why he was always so protective of her when she was with him. "No, Daddy, you're wrong. Darien and I are just friends. We always have been. There isn't anything that I've kept from you."
He seemed to let her words sink in, to make sure that she was telling the truth. Then he simply nodded. "Maybe I was wrong."
He looked away but she already knew why. "You really thought he and I were involved didn't you?"
No response.
"And that's not all you thought," she said flatly.
He turned back to her but still said nothing.
"You thought he would pressure me into something didn't you?" She saw her father's eyes drop from hers and she couldn't believe that they were having this conversation. How could he have believed the worst of them like that? How could he have thought—"
"Daddy, Darien isn't capable of something like that. He would never pick up on someone just to use them. He's not that type, and he would never hurt me!" Her voice rose at the end of the sentence. "I could never believe for one second that he would ever even consider using me or anyone else. I know he genuinely cares about me and I won't let you think that he has ever tempted me, or pressured me, or even hinted at sex since I've known him. And—"
"I understand that," he cut her off. "I use to think that maybe that was what he was after. He is so much older than you. I mean you were fourteen when you met, right? You were still in junior high! At first you hated him. Called him a jerk because he kept calling you meatball head. But when you seemed to start liking him… well, what else was a father to think?" He took her hand in his own. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I thought maybe it was just a crush since he was an older guy, but when he seemed to like you back, I began to wonder. You were so young and impressionable, you could have been talked into something."
"But Dad—"
"Let me finish," he held up a figure in front of her lips. "As time went on I figured that anyone just after that would have been scared away long before then, so I relaxed a little. But the more he showed up in your life, the more I worried. What if you fell for him? What if you really thought you loved him? Even if it was mutual, it could have ended up the same way. It would have taken longer, but at that age…" he paused and looked at her "…at any age, it would have torn you apart and left you completely devastated."
He held her hands tightly. "I don't want you to ever make that mistake. Love isn't something you or I can control, but the destiny of that relationship is up to you. It can be cheap and next to meaningless or it can be kept and savored." He stopped and locked his gaze with hers, which was now beginning to waver. "Do you understand?"
She nodded silently as she fought back the tears. She wasn't sure why she should be crying, she'd known this all along, but somehow with her father there it just made it more real to her. "I know, Daddy," she whispered. "I promise, you'll never have to worry about it again."
She leaned forward and hugged him while the tears refused to back down. "I promise I won't let it happen. Please don't worry about me." She raised her head to look at him with a little laugh, "And don't even worry about Darien!"
Darien rode the elevator up to the tenth floor of his apartment building. He could already feel soreness in his legs and back from furniture moving. With a sack of groceries in one arm he walked down the hall. It had still been relatively early when he had gotten home so he'd decided to stop procrastinating on a shopping trip. Besides, he was out of shampoo.
On reaching his door he realized that he'd forgotten to lock it before going out again. Not that it was too unusual. The store was down the street and building's occupants, security guard, and 'floor watch' would probably deter most would-be burglars. Not to mention, he didn't have anything to steal.
*Not unless they want to carry my TV down ten flights of stairs and out the front door.*
He opened the door and kicked off his shoes. He made his way into the living room and headed for the kitchen with his sack before attempting to turn on a light. But passing the couch he suddenly noticed he wasn't alone.
But the figure in front of him didn't seem all that intimidating. Unless she threatened to trip over you! Curled up on his sofa lay a small figure with little balls on each side of her head and blond hair sprawled haphazardly around her frame. She had not noticed his entry and seemed rather innate in the darkening room.
Quietly he moved into the kitchen and set the bag down on one of the counters. Returning to the living room he gradually turned on his reading light that sat on his end table closer to the bedroom door. He adjusted the variable brightness to a very low setting and tiptoed next to the sleeping creature.
He stood for a moment not knowing whether to wake her or not, but he figured something had brought her here and it wasn't because she liked his couch. He knelt down beside her and tapped her shoulder lightly. "I need to post and 'no loitering' sign around here," he said softly so as to not startle her.
It didn't work. Her eyes popped open and she shot up like he'd just shouted 'ice-cream!'
"Oh! Darien?" She glanced around her to get her bearings and settled her gaze back on him. "I'm sorry. The door was open and you weren't here so I thought I'd just wait. But I guess I dozed off. I'm sorry… What time is it?"
He consulted his watch. "Nine ten."
"Oh, gee. I must be really out of it then. I'm falling asleep when the sun's barely down."
"Which raises the question of why you're here," he commented while sitting down next to her. "I know my couch is more comfortable than yours but you should really give it a shot."
She smiled at him and yawned tiredly. "Yeah, yours doesn't have a death wish for me."
"What?"
"Never mind," she waved it off. "I came by to talk to you. See my dad came back to the apartment again."
"As expected."
"Yeah, well, I finally asked him about you."
He was taken off guard. "Asked about what?"
"About the fact that he's always so protective even though I've known you forever. About why he's never seemed to like you no matter how well he gets to know you." She stopped as if unsure of exactly just what she was going to say next.
"And he said?" he prompted.
"Well… He said something that I'd never thought of before."
He looked at her in the dim lighting for a minute. She seemed to be becoming more uncomfortable with this conversation the longer it went on. She sat fiddling with her hands in lap and she wasn't looking at him. Not a good sign.
"Come on, Meatball Head. What is it? It can't be that bad right? I mean the worst you can tell me is that he's just totally biased against me and he'll hate me as long as I live." He looped an arm around the back of the couch and scooted a little closer to her.
She didn't notice. She still sat there in silence with no intention of looking at him. "Serena?"
"I'm sorry," she finally whispered snapping out of whatever kind of trance she had been in. "It seemed like a good idea to come over and talk to you about this, but I'm not so sure anymore." She still wasn't looking at him and he was beginning to really worry.
"Serena," he stopped not knowing what else to say. She sat right there beside him and for the first time in who knew how long he didn't have the foggiest idea how to help her. She seemed so torn for some reason and he didn't understand why.
On impulse he reached out to brush away a few of her bangs that were falling into her eyes. And then let his hand slip down to her check. She closed her eyes again and turned into his touch seeming to need the comfort. He suddenly felt his heart melt a little more for this girl in front of him. "You can tell me anything, you know that," he whispered. "But if you're not comfortable with this I'm not going to push you into anything."
She laughed lightly at his words and finally looked him in the eye. "I know you wouldn't."
He looked at her confused again, but before he could question her she hugged him tightly. He held her close not knowing what else to do and just let the quiet drag on.
Finally she broke into his thoughts again. "You really won't believe me if I tell you what Dad thought."
"Try me," he said happy to have her talking.
"Well, first he asked me point-blank if we were seeing each other."
"We see each other almost everyday. What's wrong with that?" She punched him in the stomach to shut him up. "Sorry," he mumbled.
She laughed and continued, "Anyway! This is a serious subject, stop with the comic relief."
"OK. Perfectly serious. Fire away."
"So of course I told him we're just friends the same as we've always been."
"And he didn't believe you?"
"No, I think he really does believe me now."
"So, he thought that we were going out behind his back all this time?" he asked confused again.
"I'm not entirely sure. But I know he thought we were doing more than talking all those times that I was over here." Her voice dropped to a low whisper and stopped. She was still hugging him so he couldn't see her face but he heard it in her voice. This was what she wasn't sure if she could tell him.
So her father had thought that there was a lot more going on with them than they let on. No wonder he was so over protective and so paranoid about her. "So he thought I was taking advantage of his little girl," he finished what she was trying to say.
She nodded slightly. "At first he said he thought that that was all you were after. But as time went on and you didn't disappear he thought that maybe I was falling for you. He worried that with you being older than me that you would try talking me into something and I wouldn't be able to stop it."
He tightened his grip on her and searched for the right words. "Serena, I would never—"
"I know. I know you wouldn't." She sat up in his arms and looked up at him. "I know that. And I know you would never think of trying anything with me. Or anyone else I'm sure. I know you too well to believe that. And that's what I said. I had to make him see that too."
"Did it work?" he asked almost afraid of the answer.
"Yes. I think so. Dad knows I wouldn't lie about something like this and he knows, now at least, that I wouldn't put myself in that situation. But he made the point that when you think you're in love it's a lot easier to believe that what you're doing is right."
"It gets mixed up a lot of times," he conceded. "Serena, I couldn't do something like that to you. Or anyone that I care about. Or anyone off the street either," he added. "I can't make a commitment that's suppose to last forever without knowing that it will."
She hugged him again and whispered, "I know. Somehow I knew you'd say that."
He laughed into her hair. "I think you're getting to know me too well."
"Just don't tell Dad that!"
"Done!" He laughed with her but added, "Do you think I should talk to him?"
She looked up at him for a moment before responding. "Would you?"
"Well, this is partially my fault."
"How?" she pulled away slightly. "How is this your fault? You never did anything."
"No, but this is what I get for having any kind of relationship with a beautiful girl four years younger than me with a wacko father."
She laughed and slugged him again. "He's just worried about these strange older men I keep bringing home."
"Men? How many of us do you have hanging around?!"
She snuggled back to him and mumbled, "Just you Darling. Just you."
"Better be," he grumbled. "So do I have a man to man talk with Daddy?"
"I'll tell him I talked to you about it. Put him at ease a little. I wouldn't worry much about it unless he brings it up."
He was relieved to hear it. Sure he would talk to him, but if he could avoid it he would. *How do I put her father at ease? 'Please believe me, I care about your daughter and I promise to never hurt her, protect her, care about her, yada, yada, yada.' It'd be like I was asked to marry her! Now wouldn't that put his mind at ease.*
But regardless, he knew he did care about her and he promised himself that no mater what he would never put her though something like that. Not that he ever intended to have the chance, but just in case. There was certainly enough people wondering about that same issue! But for the time being he just enjoyed the solitude with her.
"So! What's on TV?" she said climbing over him to reach the remote on the coffee table.
*Serena was the wrong name for this child!!*
"You know, this is what I love about you. You always have ice cream," she said around the spoon in her mouth.
"Which is truly an accomplishment as often as you're over here."
"Why do you think I come over so often?"
Flopping back down on the couch he mumbled, "Note to self: stop buying ice cream."
She whacked him with a pillow and took another bite. Flipping through channels they had found that all of the good movies had started earlier so they ended up with a Super Block of Sailor Moon cartoons. "You know, if that Mamoru guy was real I could really have a serious crush on him!"
"Why let that stop you? He's probably as accessible as any of your other crushes."
"Why you!! If I wasn't finished with my ice cream I'd hurt you for that!" She humphed and slugged him with her free hand anyway. He caught her wrist half way through the motion. "Man, I gotta stop trying that," she muttered to herself when he didn't let go.
He simply laughed at her and took the bowl out of her other hand. "Yeah!" It was all but licked clean anyway, but she wasn't through struggling.
"Sorry madam, but fourths are just a little over your limit." He took the dish and headed into the kitchen.
"That was my first bowl and you know it!" she called after him.
He came back but didn't sit down immediately. "You know, since we were talking about this whole father thing I guess I should probably tell you something."
This peeked her curiosity. "What?"
"When we first started working together your father not so gracefully told me that if anything happened to you he'd have my head and then ask me what happened."
"Oh, he didn't either."
"OK, so he said something like 'have a nice day,' but that's what he meant."
She laughed and pulled him down on the couch so she could see the TV again. "Hey! This is a good one! It's where they all go on a ski trip and the Nega-verse fakes this snow bunny contest that Usagi and Rei get stuck in. It's really sweet because even though he's evil now Mamoru saves them again. Totally Romantic! It's like there's some bond between them even though he doesn't remember her!" She stopped noticing a very familiar laugh blocking out her story. "What?"
"You! What, Nineteen years old now, and you still watch this stuff?! It's priceless!"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up fuzz-ball!" she said acutely miffed. "This is quality entertainment. And not to mention this is from the man who watches the 24-hour news channel for fun."
"And this from a woman that came to my apartment once a week needing current events."
"I couldn't help it," she said, "they made me take the class."
He laughed good-naturedly at her and pulled her closer to him for a warm embrace. "So, I still don't get it. I thought he loved her, why is he trying to kill her again?"
"You're not paying attention," she chided. "He was captured by the Nega-verse and got all of his memories wiped, so now he thinks he's on their side, but really deep down he knows he can't hurt her because he usually ends up saving her anyway."
"So he's a good guy that's suppose to be evil but he doesn't act evil."
"Right!"
"So why did the bad guys take him to start with?"
"Basically because the evil queen has a thing for him."
"Oh." There was a short pause. "So which one is she?"
"Oh you are totally hopeless!!" She grabbed the pillow she'd been lying on and swatted at him. "How am I suppose to teach you anything if you don't pay attention!" she said throwing his infamous words back at him from all the times that he'd helped her out with homework.
"Hey, that's my line." He tried to move out of the way of the flailing object but he was having little success. "Watch it with that thing would you?"
"Ha! You deserve it! This is pay back for all of the years of abuse I took when I was fighting through school!" She pelted him left and right careful to stay fast enough that he couldn't take it from her hands.
"Fighting through school!? The only reason you needed my help was because you were too lazy to study on your own! You could have gotten straight A's if you would have tried a little." Tired of the abuse he snagged her wrist again and yanked the pillow out with the other hand. He tossed it behind her, out of reach so long as he held her arm. "Now then…"
"Uh, ha-ha. So what do we do now?" she asked innocently batting her eye lashes like she knew he hated.
"Would you stop that?"
"Stop what?" she asked with the same bats.
"That!" He cupped her chin with his free hand and looked into her eyes. "You know, a few well placed scissor snips and I wouldn't have to worry about it."
"Don't you DARE!"
"It'd give you a whole new outlook on life!"
"NO!"
"Fine, be that way," he muttered pulling her closer again.
"I will," she said snuggling against him once more. She noticed for the third time since she'd been there that he still wore the same thing he had on while at her apartment. The faded shirt had long since had its sleeves cut off which now made it an amputee she guessed. His jeans on the other hand looked like they died on the battlefield. The aged pair showed wear marks on the knees and pockets and the hem had started to give out on the bottoms. They also seemed to be just the slightest bit snug.
She giggled to herself and then immediately felt embarrassed by what she was thinking. Darien regarded the top of her head, which was all he could see of her. "What?"
"Nothing!" she said involuntarily giggling again at herself.
"Don't lie to me. What?"
He knew it was something now. *Crud! Why do I have to be such a bad liar?* "Nothing, I was just laughing at the show," she said perfectly normal.
She felt him turn back to the TV and then down to her. "It's advertising. We're in the middle of a car commercial," he said dryly.
"Oh! Uh—I know. I was just—uh—thinking about what happens next."
"You are such a bad liar."
"I know," she muttered.
"So give. What's up?"
Oh well, time for plan B. "How ancient are you're jeans?"
He looked down at the pair he had on and paused thinking. "About three years. Give or take a few months."
"Oh. Just wondering."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Serena!"
"Well, they just seem a little tight and I was wondering how long you'd had them that's all," she finally spit out.
"Tight?"
"Snug, taunt, not loose, any other adjective you want?"
"I didn't figure you'd notice," he said measuringly.
Uncontrollably she giggled again and cursed herself for being so stupid about this whole situation.
"What!?" he was getting a little flustered with her.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" She laughed now openly. *Heck, why not, let's see if we can make him blush!* "But, yes I noticed," she said with another laugh. She popped up in order to see his face, which looked totally confused.
"So, they're a little snug. I don't get it. What's the big—" He stopped and stared at her. "You don't mean…"
She only laughed harder. The look on his face was priceless! "Don't mind me for noticing but I can't help but like them on you."
He looked away from her with an embarrassed expression. "I don't believe you just said that."
"Why not? You keep insisting on telling me I'm beautiful at the oddest times. Why can't I comment on you?"
"I don't name specific regions."
"Neither did I," she should have stopped there but she couldn't help herself. "But if you want to get technical…"
"I don't want technical!"
"So what if you have a cute backside? Most guys would be flattered." She saw the pained expression on his face and knew beyond all doubt that she would never live this down. And neither would he!
"I'm not most guys and you're not most girls! I don't believe you!!"
"What! Like you've never thought the something like this with me at one point or another." Now she was curious. She wanted a response to that.
"No I haven't!"
She gave him the most doubtful look she could manage and hoped he wasn't serious. Or else she would have some serious explaining to do.
He looked at her and shrugged, "All right, maybe. But I didn't point it out."
"You made me," she snipped in triumph. Besides, what was the harm in saying you found someone attractive. "You should be use to stares and stuff like this anyway." She slowly snuggled back under his chin where she had been before.
"Why would I be use to it?"
It was a serious question. Although she couldn't believe it was a serious question. She picked her head back up and gave him an 'I don't believe you have to ask that' look. "What do you mean? Do you have any idea how many sideways looks you get just walking down the street? Darien Chiba if you dare tell me that you don't consider yourself good looking I'll beat you myself!"
"I'm not one to argue," he mumbled.
"Yes you are. Now come off it! Tell me that you're an incredibly handsome man and you've always known that." He paused and she looked into his eyes to see just a hint of self-doubt. Something that she had never seen before in him.
"All right, so I've never considered myself to be some sort of knock-out. But I did model for a while so I guess I have to say I knew I wasn't that hard on the eyes. But truthfully I've never paid much attention." He lapsed into a thoughtful silence and she resumed her comfortable position.
She had never seen a doubt in him. Never seen anything but a headstrong man that could crumble a mountain by sheer force of will. To find something in him that betrayed a true human nature scared her slightly. She knew he wasn't perfect and that he had fears and misconceptions just like everyone else, but she'd never seen them.
Through everything he had always been the one that comforted her. And she had never been able to return the favor. She had never seen him depressed or saddened by anything. He was just the same old Darien. Out of all the times she had spilled herself out to him he had never confided in her the same way. She knew she was much more emotional about things but she refused to believe that nothing ever got to him. He just didn't talk. At least not to her.
It bugged her sometimes. And like now, she had no idea what was going on in his head. She just felt like she couldn't dig deep enough into him to see beyond the crust. She couldn't be that close. Sometimes she still felt so much distance between them even though she knew him as well as she did. Like now.
"Darien?"
"Hum?"
She lay with her head against his chest listening carefully to his heartbeat. "Do you trust me?"
There was a disturbed pause before he replied. "Of course I do. Why in the word wouldn't I?"
"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get completely through those walls of yours," she said not really thinking but just talking from the heart.
"What?" the surprise was evident in his voice. "Serena…" his voice was only a whisper in her hair. She wrapped her arms tighter around him and he responded by doing the same. This was what she needed. Just to be close, to be warm and safe, to feel cared for. Was that it? Did she need to make sure that he cared?
No. She knew that. She knew that in every word and every touch he gave her. Just like earlier when he had touched her check. She'd felt it then and it had melted her fears aside. And now his arms were again blocking out the world around her. They seemed to be her best weapons against the fears that haunted her with each new step of life. But she wanted to be that for Darien. He was always alone. And she wanted to be someone that he could talk to, someone that could do this for him.
"Serena, please don't ever think that you're not close to me. Please believe how much I trust you." She could hear emotion etched in his words. "Never underestimate how much you mean to me. I'm sorry… I have never been good at telling people how I feel. You know that. And you've said it yourself, you know me too well."
She'd said it, but this was different. There were still parts to him that she didn't know. Parts that she knew she would never know. They were too well guarded and too well encased for her to get through to. But those were the parts that hid his soul and she knew she may never see it.
"Serena, you truly are the most important person in my life.
…You know," he chuckled lightly, "for five years you've been chipping away at every wall I've even thought of putting up. You're so far inside of me that sometimes it scares me."
"What?" she breathed.
"It's true. Maybe that's why I still have a hard time talking through things with you. I've lived so much for the fact that I could never be hurt by letting someone get too close. But you… you just have to waltz in with that 'I care about you ' attitude and little by little change my life around. You know, so many times it was just the fact that you seemed to care that kept me sane. I'm worthless at talking about things so I've probably never told you this before. But please remember how much a part of me you are." He faded out as he pressed her a little closer to him.
She welcomed it and hugged him tightly. "I will," she promised. *Oh I will. And please know that I will always care about you Darien. Please remember that.*
- - -
@}->-- "The Moment to Decide. Once to every man and nation comes the Moment to Decide, in the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side." -James Russell Lowell.
@}->-- "What the world needs are fewer rules and more good examples." -Unknown.
