Mercury Blue [mercuryblue_22@hotmail.com]
Fire Goddess Raye [courtney@email.ky]



The apartment was cold and dark, but Amy didn't seem to notice.  Her 
carefully styled hair was mussed and salty tears tracked makeup down 
her tormented face, but she didn't seem to *care*.  Memories of that 
evening danced throughout her head, and she fought in vain to push them
aside.   

  Darien loved her.

  Amy clutched his black tuxedo jacket tightly, and mentally cursed him
for making things so hard for her.  

  ~Doesn't he know that we can't... that I can't?~

  The pain that ripped its way throughout her chest was unbearable, and
Amy sobbed heavily, biting her lip to keep from screaming out loud.
She could feel Fear run its icy finger up her spine, and she shuddered
involuntarily.  She was scared of losing him, and terrified of loving 
him back.  Every fiber in her being told her it could never work.

  She'd seen it herself.  For over a month she'd had to endure visions 
of the horrifying futures that lay ahead for her friends should she 
dare stay with him- should she dare *love* him.  Futures filled with
nothing but pain, failure, and cold meaningless death.  Amy refused 
to let that happen.    
   
  It *couldn't* happen.
 
  Amy pulled Darien's jacket to her breasts and held it tightly, her 
breath coming out in shuddering gasps and sobs.  She'd forgotten to 
return it to him in her haste to leave the beautiful place he'd taken 
her, and now she drew the garment to her nose, breathing in the spicy 
scent of his cologne that still lingered around the collar.  For a 
moment, it was as if he was with her.  Amy's eyes filled with renewed 
tears at the notion.

  She'd known since the beginning that their affair couldn't possibly 
last long.  If the dreams were a correct picture of the probable 
future, it meant that she couldn't be with Darien without causing dire 
consequences for her dearest friends.  Amy refused to be the reason for
her loved ones to die- she simply wouldn't let it happen.  Even if it
meant sacrificing her own happiness.

  Drawing a quivering breath, Amy swiped furiously at her tear-soaked
face with the back of her hand.  She'd been well aware that her romance
with the Earth Prince couldn't be a permanent one from day one.  And 
yet, she couldn't help but feel heartbroken at the memory of Darien's 
emotional confession.  

  ~"Amy, I've completely fallen in love with you."~

  It was as simple as that.  Eight small words, and Amy's life had been
turned upside down.  When Darien had handed her his gift, that 
beautiful necklace, he'd told her that it was to celebrate the 
countless months he wished to spend with her.  Grief tore at her soul, 
and Amy could still picture the look on his face when he'd said that to
her- so hopeful, and elated.

  ~Darien...~

  Deep down inside, Amy knew that he had been wrong.  For over a month,
she'd known it not to be true.  Her dreams had made that clear to her.
And now, after what Darien had said to her only hours before, Amy could
tell the day had come that she couldn't see him anymore.  It was too
dangerous, too risky for all those involved.  For humanity, for her 
friends.  And worst of all, for him.  As far as Amy knew, loving her
would only end in Darien's demise.  She'd seen his death herself, in
those horrid visions of hers.  And she couldn't bear to have that 
happen.

  With tears still spilling from her eyes, Amy lay down on her bed, not
bothering to remove her expensive velvet gown, and curled into a ball.
Her small hands still tightly clutched Darien's jacket, and she drew it
close to her body, feeling the coarse fibers of the material tickle her
throat as she did so.  

  "I love you too," she whispered aloud.  

  Within moments Amy was asleep, lulled by the sound of her own crying.


* * * 

It was early morning when Raye's eyes finally flickered open, tickled 
by the warm glow of the sun.  Groaning to herself, she gently massaged 
the back of her neck, which ached from sleeping on it at a strange 
angle, and gazed sleepily at her surroundings, momentarily confused as 
to where she was.  

  She'd fallen asleep on the couch, she could see that now.  A worn 
blanket lay on the floor, apparently kicked off during the night, and 
her face was lined with imprints left from the unforgiving fabric of 
the couch's upholstery.  Raye ran her tongue over her teeth and 
grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth.  She'd fallen asleep before
even brushing, something she rarely ever did.

  ~What an exhausting day.~

  Raye reached for the blanket at her feet and pulled it into her lap,
her leaden arms screaming in protest.  The day before had been quite 
the workout for her.  Between all the shoveling she'd done and then 
being dragged from one end of Tokyo to another... Raye knew she'd be 
feeling sore for at least a few more days.  

  "Uh, damn you, Mina," she mumbled, and ran a hand through her tangled
hair.  "Where did I ever get the idea that I could keep up with Tokyo's
'shopping queen'?"  Stifling a yawn, Raye stood up groggily and draped 
the blanket over her arms.  

  She didn't remember falling asleep with it.  Actually, Raye didn't 
remember falling asleep period; however, she was fairly certain she 
would have remembered getting up to take the thick comforter from its 
place in the linen closet.  

  ~Chad must have covered me,~ she thought to herself.  Running a hand
over the fuzzy material in her arms, Raye couldn't help but smile.  For
the past month, Chad had been anything but himself around her.  At 
times, she would go as far as to say she felt avoided by him.  But now,
for him to have the consideration to cover her as she slept, well...

  Raye smiled to herself and folded the blanket carefully.  Strolling 
down the hallway, she deposited it in the linen closet where it 
belonged and then headed into the bathroom to perform her standard 
morning routine.  All the while a smile danced on her lips, and a 
single thought rattled through her head:

  Perhaps there was still a little of the old Chad left in him, after 
all.  


--------------------------------------------


	I thought you'd be out of my mind 
	And I'd finally found a way to 
	Learn to live without you 
	I thought it was just a matter of time 
	Till I had a hundred reasons 
	Not to think about you 
	But it's just not so 
	And after all this time 
	I still can't let go 

	I've still got your face 
	Painted on my heart 
	Scrawled upon my soul 
	Etched upon my memory baby 
	I've got your kiss 
	Still burning on my lips 
	The touch of my fingertips 
	Is love so deep inside of me 

	I was trying everything that I can 
	To get my heart to forget you 
	But it just can't seem to 
	I guess it's just no use 
	In every part of me 
	Is still a part of you 

	Something in your eyes keeps haunting me 
	I'm trying to escape you 
	And I know there ain't no way to 
	To chase you from my mind 


                                  ~Painted On My Heart
                                     The Cult
     

--------------------------------------------

Part Two- The Second Month 

Chapter Six-
Illumination



These ancient eyes have seen much throughout the centuries.  

  I have lived through the fall of empires.  I've watched monuments 
topple, and turn to dust.  I have looked upon the birth and death of 
king upon king.  

  During my lifetime as Sailor Pluto, I have borne witness to a 
multitude of human conditions.  Yet, none of them has ever effected me
so greatly as the sight of a lover's pain.  

  Love hurts, my friends.  That is the ultimate truth you must learn, 
for no injury burns with more agony than a newly-broken heart.  

  Pain is love.  Love, pain.  

  They say Time heals all wounds; that given enough Time, pain can be 
overcome.  This is by no means incorrect.  However, few people seem to 
realize that the reverse is also true.  Time is the ultimate source of 
pain.  

  Who could possibly measure the torment caused by the gradual 
passage of Time?  It is Time that ages beautiful youths, greying and 
wrinkling their milky skin, and it is Time that finally kills them.

  If Time could freeze during one perfect moment, lovers would never 
have to bear the pain of leaving that tender embrace.  They could stay
forever entwined in one another's arms.  True, they would never marry, 
nor have children.  But they would also never have to face losing 
each other, an occurrence inevitable in any relationship, be it by 
choice or death.

  An appealing thought- but mere fancy.  The truth is that Time cannot
be frozen.  It marches on, ever the dutiful soldier.  

  And so does our story.


--------------------------------------------


"Amy, pick up.  I know you're there."

  She lay on her sofa, hugging Darien's jacket to her chest like a 
security blanket as she listened to him leave what seemed like his 
millionth message on her answering machine.  

  "Please Amy, tell me.  Why won't you talk to me?"

  It had been nearly a week since she had last seen him; since he'd 
told her he loved her.  For only a week she'd been shut away from the 
world.  And from him.  Only.  It seemed like an eternity.

   He continued to speak, the urgent tone of his voice cutting through 
the silence of her apartment like a newly sharpened blade.  "Don't do 
this to me, please, just speak to me for a while."  Amy didn't move. 

  There was a moment's silence, broken when he sighed in resignation.  
He continued.  "All right, have it your way.  You know how to get ahold
of me if you want to talk.  I really wish you would." 

  Pause. 

  "Goodbye."  

  There was a sharp click as he hung up the phone, and then once again 
she was surrounded by deafening silence.  From her place on the sofa, 
Amy bit her lip and ran her fingers over the buttons of his jacket.
She felt the familiar texture of the fabric she'd held for so many days
now, and sighed. 

  Compulsively, her hand reached towards a nearby table, and she hit 
the playback button on her answering machine to hear his message again.
She listened with sadness to the confusion and urgency in his voice as 
he pleaded with her for an explanation- some sort of sign that she was 
still there for him.

  ~I wish you could understand,~  she thought.  ~See what I've seen and
know why we can't be together.  I care for you too much to let anything
happen to you.  Even if it means we can't be together.~  

Pulling the jacket closer to her face, she inhaled deeply.  Even now, 
the fabric still held a trace of his scent, and she closed her eyes.  
In her fantasies, she could be in his arms.  Safe, warm.  And happy.

   Happy.

  Amy scoffed at the thought, taking in her surroundings.  She hadn't 
been happy for days, and it showed.  Her normally tidy apartment 
appeared as though a herd of cattle had run through it.  Dishes were 
stacked up in the sink, empty take out boxes littered her coffee table,
and laundry was piled up on the floor.  She had not bothered to take 
care of either the place she was hiding in, nor herself. 

  Uncurling her legs from under her, Amy stood up and walked towards an
antique mirror that hung above her fireplace.  She cautiously looked
in and pursed her lips at the image she saw.  

  The girl that she saw reflected back wasn't her.  It couldn't be.  
This wasn't the 'smart girl' that usually looked back at her.   She'd 
been replaced by someone with a gaunt face and a rat's nest of tangled 
hair.  Eyes that should be sparkling with life were puffy and red from 
too many shed tears.  A mouth that usually held an optimistic smile now
bore a grim frown.

  ~I don't know this girl,~ Amy thought.  ~And I don't think that I 
like her.~

  She sighed to herself.  For so long, she'd resented being cast as the
'smart girl', the 'good girl'.  But now, she'd give anything to see 
that image reflected in the mirror, to feel the control and confidence 
that the 'smart girl' once exuded. 

  Turning away from her tired visage, Amy leaned against the wall and 
tried in vain to unravel some of the many knots that had twisted 
themselves around her hair.  Now, more than ever, she needed- no, 
craved- that detached control.  It was imperative that she regained it,
and soon.

  Her eyes drifted to a nearby wall calender, confirming what she 
already knew to be true.  The next day would be Christmas, and that 
meant the annual party at Lita's apartment.  Everyone was going to be 
there, a thought which made Amy's stomach sink in dread.   

  She couldn't bear to go.  To see the friends she'd been avoiding for
weeks.  Especially Serena.

  Amy could just imagine what she would say to her.  

  ~"Where have I been the past month?  Funny you should ask.  I've been
boinking your ex-boyfriend behind your back.  What?  No, just until 
recently.  I ran out on him when he told me he loved me.  I've been 
having these dreams, you see..."~

  She shook her head, doubting that Serena would be very thrilled with 
a conversation like that.  Amy certainly wasn't thrilled about the idea
either.

  For a moment she considered calling Lita and cancelling.  But what 
would she say?  She'd already used every excuse she could think of; 
there were none left.  

  ~Besides.  It's Christmas.  They'll only show up at your doorstep if 
you don't go.~

  Amy knew she would have to face them sooner or later.  She'd known 
that all along.  

  She'd just been hoping for later.

  Once again, her eyes swept over the unclean apartment and she sighed,
frustrated with herself.  Amy was tired of being depressed, tired of 
hiding in her own filth, and most of all, she was tired of the lies.  
She wanted nothing more than to experience to relaxed company of her 
friends again, without the burden of all that had transpired in the 
past few weeks.    

  ~Life was simpler when we were still battling the Negaverse,~ she 
thought to herself.  ~At least then, I never had to battle myself.~ 

  Amy felt the familiar tremble of her lower lip as the urge to weep 
suddenly struck her.  She couldn't decide what was worse- being in a
doomed love, or drifting from her closest friends because of it.  Each 
was a form of torture in its own sadistic way.  But how to push away 
these feelings... Amy knew there could be only one solution.

  The Smart Girl needed to make a reappearance.    

  Bringing her back, though, would be the tricky part.  Retrieving the 
control from deep within herself would take every last ounch of 
strength Amy possessed, she knew that.  

  ~But do I have a choice?~

  No.  Her only option was to purge herself of Darien, of the 
distraction and turmoil he set her mind in.  Dwelling on the pain of 
losing him only strenghtened her desire to regain the icy detachment of
the 'genius girl'.  It was strange that the stereotype she'd spent 
years trying to break away from might be her only hope of salvation. 
Amy refused to allow the pain and fear to rule her life anymore; she 
needed to recover her equilibrium, and fast.  That meant pulling 
herself together enough to organize her apartment.

  And in organizing the chaos around her, Amy hoped she could bring 
order to her own heart.


* * * 

Raye sighed and fashioned a large bow out of ribbon, fixing it to the 
top of the newly-wrapped box she held in her hand.  Smiling to herself,
she added the package to the pile that was now nearly spilling onto the
floor.

  A glittering mass of gifts sparkled on the table before her.  The 
multi-colored foil of their wrapping paper reflected the room's light, 
causing them to twinkle like a giant handful of precious gems.  Raye 
leaned back in her chair and regarded her handiwork with satisfaction,
pleased at how lovely she'd made her gifts look.  

  "Perfect," she whispered, reaching up to run a hand through her hair.
With a grin, she began cleaning up the scissors and stray bits of paper
and ribbon that now littered the table and floor near where she'd been 
working.  As she snatched a roll of scotch tape from between two boxes,
Christmas spirit got the best of her and she found herself humming a 
festive tune under her breath. 

  "I've always loved that song."

  Raye jumped at the unexpected sound of Chad's voice, and nearly 
dropped the items she held in her hands.  "You scared me," she said, 
exhaling deeply.  "I didn't hear you come in."

  Chad smirked at her and placed a package on the table next to her 
shining mass of gifts.  "Don't stop on my account.  You sure seemed to 
be getting into the whole holiday bit."  He nodded towards the immense 
heap of presents she'd just wrapped.

  Raye shrugged.  "Well, it is Christmas Eve, after all."  She glanced
at the parcel he'd just deposited onto the table.  It was a medium-
sized box, covered in brown paper and tied tightly with string.  
"What's that?" she asked.  

  "This?"  Chad gestured towards the package, then picked it up to hand
it to her.  "Actually, it was just delivered.  I think it's from your 
grandfather."

  "From Grandpa?"  Raye smiled, and emptied her armful of wrapping 
paraphernalia back onto the table.  "Let me see."  She snatched the box
from his hands and tore open the paper excitedly, eager to see what her
grandfather had sent for her.  In her haste, she failed to notice a 
small white envelope detach itself from the parcel and flutter to the 
ground.  

  "Raye, look.  There's a note with it."  Chad plucked the small card 
from the floor, and held it out to her between two fingers.  Raye 
nodded at him as she tried to untangle a rather large knot that was 
tied in the string.  

  "Well, read it," she said, grabbing the scissors from where she'd 
dropped them.  "Tell me what it says."  Chad shrugged, and opened the 
small envelope in his hands as Raye began to hack at the string that 
tied the parcel shut.  

  "Okay..."  Chad pulled out a small card and opened it, his eyes 
tracing the tiny, delicate handwriting.  "'To Raye and Chad,'" he 
began.  "Hey, it's for both of us!"

  "Yeah?"  Raye grinned in triumph as she finally freed the package 
from its string.  "Well, keep on reading, then."

  "Sure," he murmured, starting from the beginning.  "'To Raye and 
Chad.  How are you doing?  Taking care of the Shrine well, I hope.'"  
Chad chuckled to himself, and continued.  "'My trip is going very well.
I am enjoying myself a lot, and learning quite a bit, too.'"

  "That's good," Raye interrupted with a smile as she tore the rest of 
the paper from the parcel.  "At his age, it's good for him to travel 
and enjoy new experiences."  Chad nodded his agreement, and Raye 
motioned for him to go on.

  "'Unfortunately, I won't be back in time for Christmas.  But, as you 
both know, you do not need an old man like me in order to have fun 
during the holidays.  Instead, I am sending along a little something 
for the two of you.  I hope it will bring you both piles of holiday 
cheer!  Enjoy it!  I will see you soon.  Grandpa.'"  Chad slid the card
back into the envelope and shrugged at Raye.  "That's all it says."

  Sliding a fingernail along the piece of tape that held the box 
closed, Raye had the gift open instantly.  Reaching in, she pulled out 
a large green bottle, and held it out for Chad to see.  

  "It's wine," she said incredulously.  "Imported Italian wine."  Chad 
grinned, and took the bottle from her to examine the label.  

   "1983" he mused, eyebrow raised.  "A very good year."  Raye merely
shook her head in disbelief.  

  "Why would my grandfather send us wine?" she asked.  Chad didn't 
answer; rather, he continued to study the bottle he held in his hand.  

  "I don't know that, Raye," he said finally.  "However, I do know 
enough about wine to tell you that this bottle should be enjoyed 
alongside a wonderful dinner.  It's not the sort of thing you'd serve 
every day."  His eyes met hers, and he grinned.  "What are your 
Christmas plans?"

  Raye gestured towards the mound of presents that were heaped next to
her.  "Well, none, really.  I planned on staying in tonight, and 
getting everything ready for tomorrow.  The girls and I are supposed to
meet at Lita's tomorrow night for a gift exchange and get-together, but
until then my schedule's empty."  She paused.  "Why?"

  "Hmm..." Chad appeared lost in thought.  "That works out perfectly, 
then."

  "What do you mean?"

  He shrugged.  "Well, I'm supposed to be spending most of tomorrow
with Lita, until that party you just mentioned.  But tonight, however,
I have nothing to do."  Chad grinned at her.  "I've got a great idea, 
Raye," he said.  "Why don't we have our own little Christmas 
celebration here?  We can cook something nice to eat, bake a cake, 
and put up some lights.  It would be the perfect opportunity to try out
this wine your Grandpa sent, not to mention a really nice way for us 
to spend the evening.  What do you think?"

  Raye nodded slowly.  It was an appealing idea- more appealing than 
sitting alone in her room all evening.  "Sure," she said finally.  A 
wide smile sparkled across her features.  "That would be a lot of fun."


* * *

Hours had passed.  

  Amy regarded her apartment with grim satisfaction, winding the long, 
thin cord of her vacuum cleaner around its thick handle.  The place 
was finally spotless, transformed from a dreary hovel into a 
comfortable nest with nothing more than some elbow grease and patience.
The difference was dramatic and she was pleased with the results, 
having felt a twinge of her old self returning with every wipe of a 
rag.  This was all she needed, she told herself.  Distraction was the 
first step to healing.  

  And she was nearly finished.

  Nearly.

  Her hair, still damp from a shower, curled around her ears and Amy 
absent-mindedly tugged at a strand, twirling it through her fingers as 
she stared at her surroundings.  Painful realization scratched at her 
mind and she chewed her lower lip, trying to gather the strength to 
perform the final task that had awaited her the entire day.

  After a while she sighed and gripped the handle of the vacuum 
cleaner, dragging it across the room to deposit it in a closet.  Taking
a moment to survey the remaining contents, Amy finally pulled a heavy 
duffel bag from the top shelf.  His.

  It was only one of the many personal possessions that had accumulated
in her apartment over the period of four weeks that she and Darien had 
been dating.  He'd stayed at her home often during that time, both
agreeing that it was the better alternative.  The location of Amy's 
residence meant infrequent visits from her friends and, therefore, a 
lesser chance of the two of them being caught together.  
 
  So it came to be that her home was filled with dozens of reminders of
him.  Small things at first- a toothbrush, a comb.  And then larger 
items.  A shirt, a change of slacks, and a book of sonnets.  Simple 
belongings, each of them a torment to look at.  Amy knew that the only 
way she could fully recover- purge him from her mind as it were- was to
get these things out of her sight.  She moved from room to room, 
gathering the items and carefully placing them into the bag as though 
they were explosives ready to detonate at the slightest jolt.

  When she reached the bathroom she sighed, clearing the sink of his 
toiletries quickly with a smooth motion of her hand.  Avoiding the 
watchful eyes of her reflection, she pulled open the glass door of her 
medicine cabinet, skimming the contents for anything else that belonged
to *him*.

  ~Damn it.~

  Her gaze fell upon a small black teardrop-shaped vial, and Amy felt 
her heart bury itself in her abdomen.  Bold white letters traced 
themselves against the front, proudly declaring the contents within.  
*Drakkar Noir*.  Darien's cologne.

  Without thinking she reached for the bottle, feeling the cool, smooth
metal under her fingers.  Amy choked back the grapefruit-sized lump in 
her throat and pulled off the cap to spray the air directly in front of
her.  Instantly, the room was filled with the spicy-sweet smell of him,
clean and masculine all at once.  Inhaling deeply, Amy felt the scent 
dance about her nose, clamping around her and sending a small jolt 
throughout her body.     

  The smell that had haunted her for days now; the smell that lingered 
on his jacket, here it was.  Overwhelming.  Powerful.  Suddenly he was 
there, and Amy allowed herself to be lost in the moment, picturing the 
feel of his gentle hands caressing the skin of her face, his lips 
tracing her earlobes.  She imagined burying her face in the warmth of 
his throat, melting against him.  

   ~Impossible.~
            ~Just let me be.~

  A sudden loud knock at her door startled her out of her trance, 
almost causing her to drop the bottle of cologne she still held in her 
shaking hand.  Amy exhaled deeply, clearing her mind of the fog that 
had invaded it before shoving the cologne in the duffel with the rest 
of Darien's things.  

    She strolled towards the door, distracted, as another knock resounded
throughout her apartment.  Had she stopped to think, she would have 
instantly guessed the impatient visitor's identity.  Addled as she was,
though, she found herself completely startled as a familiar voice 
addressed her from the outer hallway.

  "Amy, it's me.  I've had enough of this.  Let me in."

  Utter dismay froze her where she stood, her hand hovering over the 
brass doorknob while her mind raced with conflicting thoughts.  Her 
emotions butted against one another like rams during mating season, 
each seeking to claim victory over her heart.  A part of her wanted 
nothing more than to run and hide, covering her ears to block out the 
sound of his voice.  Another, larger, part told her she should fling 
open the door and throw herself into his arms, forgetting all she had 
seen and endured as of late.  

  But then there was the Smart Girl.  The rational, logical, controlled
part of her.

  "Amy, please."

  That piece of her conciousness had known all along that this would 
happen- had been expecting this very moment.  Darien had appeared at 
her door several times within the past week, and every one of those 
times she'd acted as if she didn't hear him speaking to her.  She'd 
ignored him, tried to drive him away.  But this time, that part of her
knew what had to be done. 

  ~You need to talk to him eventually.~

  It was true.

  She wanted to talk to him- wanted to tell him.  Wanted desperately to
make him understand why she'd behaved as she had.  She was a coward, 
she knew it.  But how could she possibly bear to hurt him?  To break 
his heart when her own was already in pieces?  

  Amy took a moment to compose herself, breathing deeply.  If she was 
going to regain control, and return her life to something resembling 
normal, she would need to speak to him.  That much was certain.  But 
she was completely terrified- she felt like a Roman Gladiator being 
sent out to face the ravenous lions.  

  ~But were the Gladiator's ever in love with the beasts?~

  Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs in her brain, her hand finally 
closed around the doorknob.  "You can do this," she whispered under her
breath, not believing it for a moment.  But the task needed to be done.
She just needed to muster up enough courage...

  "Screw it."

  Before she could re-think her actions, she'd twisted the knob.  
Pulled open the door.

  Faced him.

  ~Gods...~

  Darien leaned heavily on the doorframe, his figure looming and 
imposing in the limited light of the apartment hallway.  Amy watched a 
brief expression of surprise flicker across his face- he clearly hadn't
been expecting much of a reaction from her- replaced almost instantly 
by a cool stare, his eyes boring intensely into her own behind unruly 
locks of black hair.  

  She felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him and set 
her jaw in fierce determination.  Now wasn't the time for emotion, she 
reminded herself.  It was a time for strength.  

  For a moment they simply stared at one another, battling eachother 
without words.  Each waited for the other to speak first, but neither 
did.  Amy felt her breathing grow more rapid as increasing waves of 
doubt washed over her, mingling with the utter force of her purpose.

  ~Do this!~  The smart girl yelled at her, yet she remained frozen in 
place, transfixed as his gaze became one of silent imploring.  "Why are
you doing this?" she could hear him asking.  "Talk to me."  Yet his 
mouth didn't move; he never really said a thing.

  It seemed an eternity that passed in silence between them, each 
second chipping dangerously away at her confidence.  Amy watched him 
swallow, lick his lips.  Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

  "What's going on?"

  And that was it.    

  At the sound of his voice, Amy felt every iota of strength in her 
body crumble away to nothingness.  Her eyes stung suddenly, she 
couldn't breathe.  Her throat seized up, choking away any words she may
have had to say to him.  It was as she'd feared after all.  She was 
weak.

  The tears came quickly and easily, flowing down her face before she 
had the chance to brush them away and Amy mentally cursed at herself 
for failing- for not being as strong as she'd so desperately wanted to 
be.  A thick sob escaped her.  Her knees gave out and she almost 
collapsed, sighing as she felt herself caught.  Warm arms enclosed her-
his arms- and she didn't care.  

  All she could do was cry.    


* * * 

The spicy aroma of still-baking Christmas cake spilled from the oven 
and spread throughout the kitchen, warming the small space where they 
prepared for their meal.  Breathing in the rich fragrance that filled 
the room, Raye smiled to herself and tore a match from the book she 
held in her hand, scratching the red tip and causing it to ignite in a 
quick burst of sulfur-scented orange flame.  

  "Dinner's almost ready," she called out, and lit the two candles that
were placed on the dining room table.  Chad grunted from his place in 
the next room where he was toying with the Christmas lights they had 
strung up for the occasion. 

  "There.  I'm done!"  His voice ringed with satisfaction, and Raye 
looked up in wonder as hundreds of miniature lights began to shimmer 
above her, casting a radiant glow around the dining area.  "How's that 
look?"

  Chad entered the room and turned off the overhead lights, leaving 
only the soft twinkle of the tiny bulbs and the two flickering flames 
on the table to illuminate their festive holiday meal.  Raye glanced 
appreciatively around her, and met his gaze with a small smile.  "It's 
beautiful," she said.

  "All the best for the lady of the house," Chad said with a wide grin.
Raye giggled as he walked over to her and offered his arm in an 
exaggerated display of gentlemanly grace.  Looping her arm in his, she 
allowed herself to be lead to her seat, where Chad made a show of 
pulling out her chair for her before taking his own seat across from 
her.  "Some wine?" he offered, gesturing to the chilled bottle Raye's 
grandfather had sent to them.  She cast him a brilliant smile and 
nodded at him, eager to sample her first taste of their 'gift'.  

  "Please."

  When the drinks were poured, Chad cleared his throat and raised his 
glass, the firelight shining through the crystal making delicate shapes
of light dance about the room.  "I'd like to make a toast," he said
finally, seriously.  The golden lights that shone above circled his 
head, giving him an almost ethereal look.  "To family."  He paused, and
lifted his eyes to meet hers, a little shyly, Raye thought.  "Raye, you
and your grandfather have welcomed me into your home, and your hearts.
When I needed compassion, you gave me a family filled with love.  There
isn't a day that passes that I don't thank my lucky stars for stopping 
on these shrine stairs.  I'm lucky for every moment I get to spend 
here," he smiled, "with you."     

  Raye returned his smile and lifted her glass to meet his in a musical
toast, the soft clinking of the wineglasses not unlike the sound of 
holiday bells.  "That was very sweet of you to say, Chad," she said, 
taking a sip of the sweet wine she held.  "I want you to know that I...
that *we* feel the same way.  We love having you here with us."

  A wide grin painted itself across Chad's features, and he laughed.  
"I'll bet you're just happy to have someone here to help with the 
chores!"

  Reveling in the sound of his laughter, Raye set her wine on the table
before her.  She couldn't help it; she loved the way his deep voice 
rumbled in his throat when he chuckled, and how his warm smile spread 
across his face.  Tingles ran up her spine as she thought to herself 
that, finally, *she* was the one responsible for his good cheer.  After
all, moments shared between the pair had been anything but comfortable 
as of late; Raye was glad for the opportunity to spend an evening alone
with him.

  ~You're alone as friends, remember?  Don't even think about it.~
	      ~Think about what?~
     ~You know.~

  Raye's cheeks reddened as she mentally chided herself for admiring 
such things about Chad.  Ducking her eyes to avoid his, she tried to 
change the subject.  "So, Chad," she stammered.  "Keeping with the 
spirit of the evening, and of the holidays, tell me your favorite 
Christmas memory."

  "My favorite Christmas memory?"  Chad didn't appear to notice her 
temporary discomfort.  Leaning back in his seat, he seemed deep in
thought for a moment, staring into space as he remembered Christmases 
long-since passed.  Finally, a dreamy smile lit up his features as he 
began.  "Okay, I've got it...  I was ten, and in boarding school."  He 
adjusted himself on his chair and sat forward, staring intently into 
Raye's eyes as he prepared to tell his story.

  "It was my third year at that place," he began.  "The 'Bradshaw 
School For Boys' it was called, and about half the kids in school were 
staying there over the holidays.  That was by no means out of the 
ordinary.  After all, the majority of our parents were simply too busy 
to waste time on something as trivial as the Christmas holidays."  Raye
searched for a hint of bitterness in Chad's voice, but found none.  
This was obviously a fact that he'd been forced to accept over the 
years.

  "Every year, the people at the school would put on this big Christmas
party for us, taking care to make it as festive and jolly as possible.
Looking back, I suppose they just wanted us to feel less lonely, less 
abandoned.  Whether or not it did that really depended on the kid,
I guess.  

  "That year, we were all heading down for the big Christmas Eve dinner
when one of my teachers approached me in the hall and asked me to meet 
him in his office.  He didn't say a word as to what it was about, 
either; I was just instructed to go to his office.  At the time, I 
assumed I'd been caught doing something wrong.  I wasn't the most well-
behaved child on the planet at that time, after all."  Chad grinned at 
Raye before continuing.  "But, when he opened the door I saw my parents
standing there.  They had canceled their business plans to come home 
and spend the holidays with me.  I couldn't believe it.  It wasn't 
because they felt guilty, or *bad* for leaving me at school... No, it 
wasn't that.  They were there because they really wanted to be with me 
for Christmas.  With *me*."  Chad paused and stared off into space, 
distracted by his own memories.  

  "We went home... *together*.  And then the next day, we had the most 
amazing Christmas ever.  My dad had bought me a new sled, and we spent 
the whole day traipsing up and down a hill on our property.  We went 
sledding until it was dark, just me and him."

   Raye watched Chad's face light up as he told the story, and smiled.
It was as if he were re-living the very moments he spoke of, only now,
she could be right there beside him.

  "That night, my mom made this huge Christmas feast.  A turkey, 
stuffing, mashed potatoes- the works.  And what made it even more 
amazing was that she did it by herself.  There were no servants there 
too cook for us, it being the holidays and all.  It was just the three
of us, in that big house all by ourselves,"  Chad chuckled to himself.
"I can't for the life of me remember any meal she'd cooked before or 
after that night.  And I've got to admit, it wasn't exactly the work of
a top-notch chef, but the fact that my mom had gone to all that work 
just for me, well... that made it into a meal that no professional cook
could ever surpass.  We all ate until we thought our bellies would 
explode!"  The two of them laughed softly at the mental image that went
along with that comment.

  "After dinner, we sat by the fire and talked about our day, and all
the things we were thankful for.  And for once... well.  It was just so
nice to be spending time together like a real family.  You know what I 
mean?"  

  Chad smiled gently at the memories that danced in his mind, caught 
temporarily in a Christmas of long ago.  For a moment, there was 
silence.  Finally, Chad seemed to break from his reverie, and he 
grinned at Raye, an embarrassed flush spreading over his cheeks.  "But,
enough about me," he chuckled.  "It's your turn.  What's your most 
memorable Christmas?"

  Raye felt as though she would drown in the tide of recollection that 
flooded back to her upon hearing his words.  Her holiday memories were
painful ones, hard to dredge up.  Plucking her wine glass from the 
table, she took a deep swallow of the liquid within, pausing for a 
moment before she started.

  "It happened a long time ago.  When I was a little girl."  She paused
again, choosing her words carefully as Chad nodded for her to continue.
"My mother always had a way of making the little things special; there 
was something... almost magical about her.  She always put her whole 
heart in everything that she did, and the holidays were no exception.  
Christmas was always a huge deal at my house: decorations, parties, 
gifts... the works.  Every year I got spoiled rotten,"  She laughed 
softly.  "The thing is, it wasn't the presents that made me really 
happy.  It was just being able to be with my mother, father and 
grandpa- the people that I loved.  Family togetherness was always so 
important to my mother.  She instilled that value in me at a very young
age, and I was always eager to help her out in any way that I could."

  Chad smiled gently at her, glad to have her open up to him in such a 
way.  He chuckled inwardly at the thought of Raye as a little girl, and
tried to visualize what she may have looked like at that age.  He 
pictured her with scraped knees, tousled hair and her large violet eyes
opened wide, curious about everything around her.  

  ~How things change,~ he mused.  He couldn't help but admire the woman
she'd become.  Scraped knees had grown to be a part of gorgeous legs 
that stretched nearly to infinity.  Messy hair had been tamed and now 
lay, long and sleek, in silken waves down her back.  But her eyes... 
Chad imagined that her eyes had changed the most; they were still 
inquisitive, but now they possessed the beauty and depth that only life
experience and knowledge can bring.

  Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe the candlelight.  Chad didn't know.
But at that moment, he let himself revel in the familiar feeling of 
desiring Raye.  She looked so beautiful to him then, in her gown of 
crimson silk, her lips glittering with strawberry gloss.  He did 
nothing to stop himself from being attracted to her at that time; no 
thoughts of Lita could do such things now.  Rather, he welcomed the 
feeling, admiring her fine features and graceful movements.  He was 
attracted to her as a man, and admired her for being what she was at 
that time: a gorgeous woman.

  When she finally continued speaking, Chad turned his attention back 
to her story, sipping his wine as her tale unfolded.

  "Every year my mother made gingerbread houses," she said, her voice 
soft.  "I always used to sit with her at the counter as she decorated,
sneaking candies when I thought she wasn't looking.  Following 
tradition one year, I took my seat at the counter and watched with 
hungry eyes as she set out the bowls of candy and the large sheets of 
gingerbread.

  "I watched as she assembled the house with practiced hands, knowing 
exactly how to place the pieces together and precisely where she should
put the icing.  I was trying to sneak a candy, as usual,  when my 
mother caught me.  I was afraid that she was going to scold me, and 
tell me that I should wait until the house was decorated to eat the 
candy, but instead she asked for my help."  Raye smiled at the memory.
"With shaking hands I tried to build the house as well as she did.  I 
really wanted to make it perfect for her, but... in the end it looked 
like a tsunami had struck it.  I was absolutely devastated that I 
couldn't do it as well as I'd seen her in years past; I just wanted so 
badly to impress her.  And I felt like a real failure because I 
couldn't."  She laughed dryly.  

  "My mother assured me that it was the most beautiful gingerbread 
house that she had ever seen, and she told me that the *reason* why it 
was so beautiful was that it was because we had worked on it together.
Then she promised me that from that year on, we would make them 
together.  With each passing year, she told me, I would get better and 
better.  I could hardly wait until the next year."  Raye's voice 
tightened as she fought back the tears that had sprung forth.  
"Unfortunately, that was the last gingerbread house I ever built.  Soon
after that Christmas, my mother grew sick, and by November, she was 
dead."  A tear crept down her face, followed by another, and Raye 
brushed them away with the back of her hand.    

  "My father didn't know what to do with me.  He was a politician, not 
used to taking care of a seven-year-old kid.  Dealing with me had been 
my mother's department, and with her gone he was completely lost.  
Finally, he brought me here to live with Grandpa."

 Raye's voice trembled, and Chad reached out to hold her hand in his.  
"I was so young at the time," she continued finally, "I don't think I 
really understood what was going on around me, or why my father left.  
Looking back, I guess he just needed to deal with my mother's death in 
his own way.  That Christmas, it was just Grandpa and I.  We both were 
hurting so much; he too was grieving the loss of my mother, his only 
child.  Still, we tried our best to deal with it and to try to make 
Christmas as wonderful as my mother had.  He and I decorated, baked
cookies.  You know, typical Christmas tasks.  But... it just wasn't the
same without her.  We both knew it, though we made a point not to talk 
about it.

  "I woke up early that morning and went into my Grandpa's room to wake
him up.  Old habits die hard, I guess; I was still only seven at the 
time.  I found him sitting on the edge of his bed with the saddest look
on his face; a look of pure pain that I don't think I will ever forget.
It was the first and only time I'd ever seen my grandfather cry."  Raye
drew a shaky breath.  "I walked over to him, and I asked him what was 
wrong; why he was crying.  With tear-filled eyes, Grandpa told me that 
it was because he missed my mother.  He was sorry, he said, that he
couldn't make Christmas as special for me as my mother did.  I just 
remember holding him tight, and telling him it was okay, that it wasn't
his fault.  He and I cried for a long time in each other's arms, and it
was then I finally realized that my mother was *gone*.  She wasn't 
coming back, and things would never, ever be the same.  Despite having 
my grandfather there, I don't think I've ever felt so... so alone." 

  As she finished her voice cracked and renewed tears filled her eyes.
"Look at me," she said finally with a laugh.  "It's been years; you'd 
think I could deal with it by now."  She sighed.  "I'm pathetic, aren't
I?"  Chad tightened his grip on her hand.  

  "Don't you dare say that, Raye.  You are *not* pathetic."  He cast 
her a gentle smile.  "I am so sorry for everything you've been through.
Of all the people in the world, I *know* what it's like to be alone 
around the holidays.  I know the pain that comes with it, and I want 
you to know that you'll never have to feel that way again.  I'll always
be here for you, no matter what.  Nothing will change that.  Ever."

  Raye said nothing.  Instead, she focused on the hand that held her 
own so tightly, and smiled softly.  Following her gaze, Chad found 
himself looking at the same thing.  A sudden heat from deep within 
filled him,  
       ~Those are dangerous thoughts you're having.~
                ~Shut up.  Just shut up.~ 
and he pulled away from her as though burned.  

  "I'm sorry," he whispered.  Raye shook her head, and forced a smile.

  "About what?" she said with false cheer.  "We'd better get eating; 
the food's getting cold."  Across from her, Chad nodded.  

 "Yeah, you're right.  This looks great by the way."  He took a large 
bite of the pasta in front of him, and sighed.  "It's delicious."

  Raye grinned.  "You should see what I've cooked up for desert." 


* * * 

They held one another on the sofa; he with his arms wrapped gently 
around her- she with her face buried in his chest.  It seemed like an 
eternity that they were silent, listening only to the hushed sounds of 
her weeping and the comforting murmur of his voice in her ear.  

  "Shh, Angel.  It will be okay."
 
  He ran his fingers through her hair, over her skin- smooth and white 
and slick as wet marble from her still-flowing tears.  He kissed her 
forehead, nuzzled her ear.  "It's all right," he whispered.  

  Amy sobbed, and clutched him tighter.  "I didn't mean to hurt you," 
she whimpered, her voice thick from crying.  "It was just those dreams-
they were horrible."  She shuddered.  

  "They must have been."  Darien shifted and pulled her closer to him, 
her trembling form tucked comfortably in his arms.  "I just wish you 
would have told me sooner, instead of running off and ignoring me.  We 
could have talked about things, worked something out together."

  For a moment, he could have sworn he heard a smile in Amy's voice.  
"You're one to talk," she muttered.  "What about when you had those 
dreams about Serena?  I don't remember you being so eager to offer up 
an explanation to her."  Darien paused.
  
  "You're right.  I didn't.  And look how that turned out."  He sighed.
"You shouldn't have pushed me away, Amy.  We could have resolved this 
days ago, if I'd only known what was going on."

  Amy sat up suddenly, her eyes meeting his intently.  "Don't you think
I considered that?"  She frowned.  "I tried to dismiss the dreams at 
first, I really did.  I pushed them to the back of my mind, refusing to
worry about them- and that worked, for a week or so.  But I'm only so 
strong..."  Amy trailed off, a faraway gaze in her eyes as she again 
recalled the horrific dreams.  "For weeks, I watched my friends die, 
Darien.  I watched *you* die.  Night after night after night."
 
  "I'm sure it was horrible," Darien said comfortingly.  "But, Amy...
they're just dreams."

  She didn't say anything for a moment.  Slowly, she pulled away from 
him, her eyes fixated on the floor.  "I knew you would say that," she 
whispered.  "And that's why I didn't tell you: I knew you'd just tell 
me to ignore them; that my guilty conscience was giving me nightmares."
She shook her head.  "I couldn't just forget about them, though.  If 
they really were premonitions of a future with us together, then it put
the lives of everyone I care about in jeopardy, you included.  I 
couldn't risk it; I knew our relationship would have to be a brief one.
Regardless of what I wanted for myself."  Tears sparkled like diamonds 
on her cheeks.

  "The problem is, I was selfish.  I knew I should end things, put a 
stop to our temporary romance... but I couldn't.  The more time I spent
with you, the more I *wanted* to spend with you.  I became greedy for
your affection.  It had just been so long..."  She trailed off and 
Darien reached out a gentle hand to caress her face.  "I tried to fool
myself into thinking what we had wasn't serious... that we were just 
having fun.  I didn't want to admit that I-" she blinked, sending the 
tears cascading down her cheeks.  "That I was falling in love with 
you."   

  Unsure of how to reply, Darien said nothing at first.  He pulled her 
against him in a tender embrace, once against feeling her tears soak 
his chest through his shirt.  "Amy-" he began.  Amy cut him off.  

  "I'm so sorry that I hurt you," she whispered.  "But I snapped that 
night, when you told me you loved me.  I couldn't bear the thought.  
After spending so many weeks convincing myself it shouldn't happen, it 
*did*.  You felt the same way."  Darien hugged her tighter.  "And when 
you mentioned spending future months together... my heart broke, 
Darien, knowing that those months could never be shared as the both of
us wanted.  I did the only thing I could think of: I tried to push you 
away."   

  Once again there was silence.  Darien gently stroked her back, 
running his hands over her small frame in a soothing gesture.  "I 
understand, now."  He said finally, his breath hot in her ear.  
"Believe me, Amy.  I do.  These dreams of yours are disconcerting, 
without a doubt; and we will deal with this problem.  I promise you, 
we'll figure out something."  He kissed her forehead, tucked a strand 
of hair behind her ear.  "Whatever we do, though, we'll do it 
together."  He felt her nod against him.  

  "You're right," she agreed, her voice soft.  "We'll find a way to 
handle this."

  "But not tonight," Darien added gently.  Amy lifted her eyes to his, 
meeting them with a questioning look.  "It's Christmas Eve," he 
explained.  "And if you don't mind, I'd like to spend it in peace with 
the woman I love.  I realize the place doesn't look very festive right 
now..."

  Amy sniffled and sat up, taking in the dark, bland surroundings of 
her apartment.  "I haven't exactly been in the mood to decorate 
lately," she explained.  "Sorry."

  Darien merely grinned, squeezing her hand affectionately in his.  
"It's nothing that can't be fixed," he told her.  "That is, if you're 
in the mood to help me."

  Forcing a weak smile, Amy nodded, trying to push aside the nagging 
doubt that screamed for attention inside of her.  It was the holidays,
after all.  Only one night.  One night couldn't hurt- could it?


* * * 
 
Chad groaned and leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on his full
stomach as an empty plate that once contained seconds stared back at
him.  "That was fantastic," he grinned, raising his glass to his lips 
to drain the last of its contents.  "I honestly couldn't eat another 
bite."

  Raye returned his smile and poured herself more wine, watching as the
ruby liquid splashed and swirled inside the glass, catching the light 
in tones of garnet and crimson.  "Thank you," she said softly, and 
sipped her drink.  "I'm glad you enjoyed it."  With a sigh, she 
settled into her seat and stared at the now-dwindling candlesticks 
that adorned their dinner table.  "I just love Christmas, don't you?" 
she said finally.  

  "It's okay," Chad replied, standing up and gathering the dinner 
dishes together.  "I haven't exactly had the most positive holiday 
experiences, after all.  That story I told you earlier... well.  Let's 
just say that it was a one-time thing."  Arms loaded, he disappeared 
into the kitchen.  

  "I realize that, sometimes, Christmas can be a let-down."  She 
continued when he'd returned.  "I've had my share of disappointment 
myself, but..." Raye trailed off, her eyes fixated on the flames before
her.  "Despite all that, I can't help but feel hope at this time of
year."  She paused.  "I don't know why.  It's not a religion thing- I'm
not Christian.  But despite that, I still see a significance to these 
days that I can't quite put my finger on.  Perhaps it's because this is
the one time each year people will bother to get along, or take the 
time to appreciate the people they have in their lives.

  Across from her, Chad nodded slowly.  "I see your point, Raye.  And I
agree.  At this time of year, friends... and family... are important.  
After all, what would the holidays be without love?  Meaningless, I 
suppose."  He smiled.  "But, tell me.  How do you show *your* thanks.  
What do you do to show these people that you care about them?  That 
you're grateful for their friendship?"

  Raye said nothing for a moment.  Rather, she stared dreamily at the 
lights that shone above her.  Eventually, she turned her gaze to meet 
his.  

  "Close your eyes," she said.  Chad blinked.

  "What?"

  Raye laughed suddenly, and grinned at him.  "Just close your eyes, 
Chad.  I have something for you."  She stood up and Chad complied, 
forcing his eyes tightly shut.  

  "What is this about?"  He asked.  Raye waved a hand in front of his
face to be sure he wasn't peeking, and chuckled. 

  "You'll see in a moment," she told him.  "Just wait here."  With his
eyes closed, Chad could hear Raye leave the room briefly, then return.
"Keep them shut, Chad," she warned as she entered.

  "They're shut," he laughed, listening to her shuffle around somewhere
to his left.  "When can I see?"  Raye giggled.

  "Okay, open your eyes."

  When he did so, he was met by the sight of Raye standing before him,
a shy smile on her face.  She was concealing something behind her back.
"What is it?" he asked, grinning.  Raye blushed slightly, and held her 
arm out to reveal the gift.  Chad's eyes widened.

  Raye was holding a beautiful acoustic guitar, with a floppy red 
ribbon tied around its neck.  The varnished wood gleamed as it 
reflected the limited light of the room, and Chad reached out and ran 
his fingers over the smooth surface.

  "Wow," he whispered, his voice awed.  "It's gorgeous."  His eyes 
traveled over the instrument in gentle appreciation.  

  "It's yours," Raye said, and handed it to him.

  Cradling it as though it were an infant, Chad pulled the guitar into 
his arms.  Softly he plucked the strings, tuning it straightaway as 
Raye watched, a pleased expression on her face.  "Do you like it?"

  "It's the best gift I've ever been given," he murmured, tracing the 
wooden outline with a hesitant finger.  His eyes lifted from the 
instrument and met hers with curiosity.  "Where did you get it?  A 
guitar like this must have cost you a mint!"  He shook his head in 
disbelief.  "You shouldn't have, Raye."

  Raye shrugged, waving of his remark with a gesture of the hand.  
"Actually, it wasn't that much.  See, it's not a new guitar."  Chad 
stared at her incredulously

  "You're kidding, right?" he asked.  "Look at his thing... the finish 
is absolutely perfect.  Not a scratch on it.  The strings are brand 
new, the neck is straight... it's beautiful."  Raye gave him a shy 
smile, and sat down opposite him.  

  "I found it about two and a half months ago, actually.  At a used 
instrument shop," she told him.  "It was in the window, and it caught 
my attention instantly.  It just screamed your name, so I ran in and 
bought it right away."  She laughed under her breath.  "Actually, I 
purchased it before thinking.  No sooner had I paid for it, then I 
realized that I couldn't exactly bring it back here with me.  I mean, 
you might have seen it.  So, I negotiated to have it delivered here."  
She smiled, and Chad took a drink of his wine.  

  "Actually," she said offhandedly, "I think the day it was delivered 
was the same day you and Lita started dating."

  Chad nearly choked.

  "Really?" he asked casually.  Raye nodded and touched one of the 
candles with an index finger, feeling the hot wax harden against it.  

  "Yeah," she said, picking at the wax that coated her fingertip.  
"While you were giving her a botany lesson, I was outside waiting for 
the delivery boy to drop off this guitar."  She laughed.  "I was so 
worried you'd come out and see it, but I really shouldn't have.  I 
guess you were otherwise distracted at the time, huh?"

  She giggled, and Chad mentally slapped himself.  He felt physically 
sick suddenly, as realization struck him like a ton of bricks.  That 
day, he'd looked out the window, only to see Raye flirting with a 
handsome guy outside.  He'd given up on loving her then, and agreed to 
date Lita in his quest to 'move on'.  He'd been an idiot.

  ~All the while, the guy was just there to deliver my Christmas 
present.~

  Chad felt like a royal asshole.  

  Deep in thought, he ran his hand over the smooth finish of the 
guitar.  Several moments of silence passed.  

  "What are you thinking about?"  Raye asked finally, watching his hand
stroke the varnished wood.  He shrugged.  

  "I was just thinking that this guitar is in pretty remarkable 
condition for a used instrument," he lied.  "You must have really 
lucked out in finding this."  Raye shook her head, and laughed.

  "Oh, it was in horrible shape," she told him.  "It needed a few new 
coats of stain and varnish, as well as new strings.  The neck was 
twisted, and there were a couple of really deep scratches in the wood 
when I first picked it up."  She blushed then, and took a sip of her 
wine before she spoke again.  "During my spare time for the past few 
weeks, I've been working on restoring it for you; trying to get it back
to its original condition."

  For a moment, Chad felt he would cry.  For over five years, he'd been
in love with Raye.  And yet, he turned his back on her when he thought 
she was interested in another man.  Knowing that she had put so much 
energy into his Christmas gift- that she'd done it just to make him 
happy- nearly killed him.  The guitar in his lap suddenly took on a 
deep significance.  He couldn't speak.

  "Chad, are you okay?"

  He didn't reply at first.  Rather, he stared at the wineglass in his 
hand, trying to comprehend his own stupidity.  "Chad?"

  "I have something for you, too," he said finally.  "But I don't want 
to give it to you."  Raye raised an eyebrow, completely taken aback.

  "Why?  What's wrong, Chad?"

  He heaved a deep sigh and met her eyes with his own, an obvious pain 
marring his features.  "Don't you see, Raye?  I can't give you my gift
now.  Not after you've given me something so wonderful.  How is it 
possibly supposed to compare?  You deserve so much more than the paltry
trinket I've got hidden in my closet."  He shook his head.  "No.  I 
can't give you your gift, Raye.  I'm sorry.  If you're willing to wait 
a couple days, I'll go out, and I'll get you something better.  I'll-"

  "What are you talking about?  Chad, this isn't some sort of 
competition.  I didn't give you that guitar to try to *outdo* you in 
any way.  It's not like that at all.  I'm glad you like your gift 
because, really, that was all that I wanted.  To be able to do 
something special for you, because you're my friend."  She reached out,
and clasped his hand in her own, gazing deeply into his eyes.  "You've
got to understand, that it isn't about who got whom the best gift.  I 
don't care *what* it is you've got stowed away for me.  I'll love it 
because it's from *you*.  Because *you* put the effort into finding 
something that you thought I might enjoy."  She flicked away a strand 
of hair that had fallen into her eye.  Then she smiled.  "Now, please.
Can I see my present?"
   
  Chad couldn't help but smile.  "Okay," he said finally, standing up.
"I'll go get it."

  He returned soon after with a foil-wrapped box in his hands, his eyes
cast downwards.  "Now, it's not much," he said as he handed it to her,
and Raye rolled her eyes.  

  "I thought we've been over this," she said, admiring Chad's rather 
child-like wrapping job.  "I know I'll love it."  Carefully, she
removed the paper from the gift and uncovered a small box.  Lifting the
lid, she pulled out the protective paper shield that covered the gift
itself, and smiled.  

  "It's beautiful, Chad," she whispered, and pulled out a silver 
picture frame.  It glittered with the dozens of crystalline beads that
adorned it, surrounding the small photo that lay behind the glass.

  "That was the only picture I could find," said Chad shyly.  Raye 
ran her finger along the edge of the frame, and stared at the portrait
within.

  The photograph was one of Raye's favorites, taken outside the shrine 
during the busy Cherry Blossom festival.  It showed the two of them in 
their standard Shinto garb, grinning at the camera as soft, pink 
blossoms rained down around them.  Mina had been the one to take the 
photo, insisting that Chad put his arm around Raye's shoulders in a 
nice, 'friendly' pose.  At the time, Raye had been mortified beyond 
belief, humiliated that her friend would pull such a stunt in an 
obvious attempt to pair the two together.  But now, looking at the 
picture in her hands, she was quite happy with the way it had turned 
out.  

  "I love this one."  She stood up, and walked over to where Chad was 
standing, wrapping her arms around his chest and pulling him into a 
hug.  "Thank you so much," she whispered.  Surprised, he didn't react 
at first.  Then, with the heat of her body against his, he brought his 
hands up to her back and pulled her closer.  

  ~This embrace... so good.~

  The last time he'd held her, they'd been in the bathroom.  And so 
much trouble had come of it.

  ~You can't do this again,~ his inner voice scolded.

  He knew he should pull away.  He had to.  But he couldn't.  She felt 
so right in his arms.  

  ~Just another minute.~

  Embarrassed, Raye suddenly stepped back and gave him a radiant smile.
"I told you I'd love whatever you had to give me," she giggled.  Chad 
just stared at her.  "Now, come on.  Enough standing around.  Let's 
have Christmas cakes."


* * * 

The apartment didn't look entirely festive yet; but it was getting 
there.  Twinkling foil stars glittered on the yellow walls, surrounded 
by a rainbow of tinsel trees, snowmen, and reindeer.  A fat plastic 
Santa Claus flashed a brilliant white smile, rosy cheeks and all, from
the nearby oak coffee table.  

  In the multicolored glow of haphazardly-hung Christmas lights, Amy 
and Darien sat comfortably on the couch, stringing up kernels of 
popcorn to create a garland for a rather sad-looking houseplant that 
stood in the corner.

  "We'll never get this done if you don't stop eating the corn."  Amy 
reddened at Darien's teasing, running her needle and thread through a 
particularly fluffy piece.      

    "You're doing it, too," she giggled.  "Besides, it doesn't matter.
That was the last bit; we're done."  She tied a knot in the string with
flourish, scissoring the excess with her teeth.  "See?"  Amy gently 
held the strand between her fingertips, careful not to crush any of the
fragile kernels of popcorn.  "How's it look?"  

  "I don't know," Darien replied with a smile.  He stood up, and took 
the garland from her hands.  "Let's see."  Striding over to the 
makeshift Christmas tree, Darien draped the fragrant string across the 
fern.  He watched with humor as the weak branches sagged from the 
minimal weight of its burden, and laughed.  "That is the most pathetic 
Christmas tree I've even seen," he chuckled.

  Amy giggled and joined him in front of the droopy plant.  "I think it
just needs a little love," she said, standing on her tip-toes to 
capture his lips with her own.  Instantly, his arms snaked around her, 
pulling her closer as he savored the first kiss they'd shared in days.

  "I've missed that," Darien said when they'd pulled apart.  Amy 
reached down and clasped his hand, looping her fingers through his as 
she melted against his chest.  She said nothing for a moment, merely 
staring at the Christmas tree that could have rivaled Charlie Brown's 
in its lack of splendor.  

  "So have I," she whispered finally, feeling the rise and fall of his
chest beneath her cheek.  She felt the gentle brush of his fingers 
trailing over her cheek, caressing the velvety skin there.  

  "Amy?" he whispered finally.  She didn't move, merely nodding her 
head to show she was listening to him.  "In the spirit of the 
season..."  Darien trailed off.  

  "What?" she murmured, feeling him pull away.  

  He paused a moment, as if considering what he was about to say.  "I 
brought you something," he said finally.  "It's nothing major.  Not 
like... not like before.  I just wanted to bring you a gift to 
celebrate Christmas."  His brow furrowed, as if concerned about her 
reaction.  "Please, don't run away from this one,"

  Amy bit her lip.  "I'm sorry I did that, Darien."  Closing the 
distance between them, she threw her arms around his neck and buried 
her face in his collar as if to prove her point.  "I really didn't 
mean to hurt you."  Feeling his arms close around her, she giggled 
suddenly.   "Think of it this way," she said.  "I don't have anywhere 
to run now."                 

  With a chuckle, Darien kissed her forehead and pulled away, making 
his way towards the thick winter jacket he'd worn over.  Pulling it off
of its place on the coat rack, he reached inside to retrieve a small 
rectangular package, wrapped in glittering foil.  

  He handed it to her wordlessly, taking a seat next to her on the sofa
as she regarded the gift with a small smile.  "I hope you like it," he
said, watching her begin to unwrap it.

  Amy peeled away the decorative paper, revealing a small wooden box.  
Delicate carved snowflakes danced across the surface of the lid, 
sparkling with the varnish that covered the dark cherry wood.  "It's 
beautiful," she murmured, tracing the edge of a snowflake with her 
finger.  

  "Turn it over," Darien told her and she did, revealing a small brass 
crank on the base.  "It's a music box."  He watched as she turned the 
crank, winding it and opening the lid.  A familiar tune filled the 
room, a thin and tinny-sounding melody.

  "Pachebel's Canon," Amy whispered.  "You remembered."  

  Darien grinned.  "Of course I did," he said.  "I saw that, and it 
reminded me of you."  Amy leaned forward, placing the music box on the 
coffee table in front of them, lid open.  

  "Thank you," said Amy.  She leaned forward and brushed her lips 
against his.  "I love it."  The song played on as Amy settled against 
Darien's chest.  He wrapped and arm around her shoulder, pulling her 
closer.

  "Oh," she remarked suddenly, as if remembering something.  "I've 
got something, too."  She pulled away from him and stood up, running
into her bedroom.

  "I actually picked it up a couple of weeks ago," she told him when 
she'd returned, a plastic bag in hand.  Then, she frowned.  "But with 
everything that's happened, I haven't wrapped it."

  "Don't worry about it," Darien said.  "You didn't have to get 
anything, I just-"

  "I know,"  Amy interrupted.  "But I wanted to.  When I was at your 
place, I noticed that there was a hole in your collection and I wanted 
to fill that."  She handed him the bag and Darien smiled, reaching in 
to pull out a hard-covered book.

  "Paradise Lost,"  Darien murmured, reading the title.  "I've been 
meaning to get a copy of this for a while.  It's one of my favorites."

  "I remembered you telling me that," she explained.  "And when I saw 
you didn't have it yet, I had to pick it up."  She paused, watching him
open the front cover with his thumb.  

  "There's writing here."  He read the note Amy had written with a 
gentle smile, his eyes tracing the small black handwriting that filled
the upper left corner of the book cover.  


       'A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, 
   embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.' 
        I hope you can treasure this good book.
    
                                Yours,
                                    Amy.
                                    

  Darien ran his hand over the message, before shutting the book and 
placing it next to Amy's music box.  "I'll treasure it *forever*," he 
said, pulling her towards him.  He felt her eyelashes brush his cheek, 
and he closed his eyes.  "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.  

  "It's no big deal," she replied, shifting against him.  "I knew you 
would like it."

  His fingers captured her chin and he tilted her face towards him, 
looking into her eyes.  

  "I wasn't talking about the book," he said.  And he covered her mouth
with his own.

  For the first time in weeks, Amy didn't think about fate, or about 
her plague of dreams.  

  ~I need this,~ she thought.  

  She needed to be held.  Needed to feel loved.  Needed to be *needed*.

  Even if it were only for a night.

  Darien's hands ran through her hair, over her curves, and she 
responded.  Almost violently they kissed one another, their bodies 
aching with mutual desire.  His lips trailed fire over her skin,
burning her.  With each caress, she could feel him speak.  "I want you.
I missed you."    

  Amy felt her lips crushed with the bruising force of his own and she
drank him in, savoring every delicious moment.  Frenzied fingers 
clasped at buttons, tore at belt buckles.  She breathed a rapturous 
sigh.

  As she was swept from the couch and into her bedroom, Amy could hear 
nothing but the gentle melody of her music box and the thunderous roar 
of her heartbeat in her ears.  


* * * 

"You stepped on his head?"  Chad clutched at his sides, laughing so 
hard it seemed he would injure himself.  

  "It wasn't funny.  I think I really hurt him," snorted Raye.  Curling
a leg underneath her, she took a drink from the glass she still held in
her hand and laughed.  "Obviously it didn't work out between us."

  The two had long since finished dinner, and were now settled on the 
couch sharing embarrassing stories from a time before they had met.  
Chad shook his head in disbelief, his eyes watering.  "Oh, but that's 
hilarious," he sputtered, trying to calm down.  "Somehow, I have a hard
time picturing you being so clutzy."

  "Well, I envy you that!"  Raye giggled.  "Personally, I can't quite 
shake the mental image of you in drag."

  "Hey, in my own defense, it was Halloween and I was just a kid!"  
Chad blushed.  "I knew I never should have told you that."

  "Don't worry about it, Chad.  I won't tell anyone."  She giggled 
again, and looked into her wineglass.  "Well, I need a refill," she 
said finally, offering her glass towards him.  "Mind topping me off?"

  As he plucked it from her fingertips, Raye yawned, and reclined 
comfortably on the sofa.  "That wasn't even my most traumatic 
experience in the romance department, if you can believe it," she 
continued, watching him pour the last of the wine.  He raised an 
eyebrow and handed over her drink, depositing the now-empty bottle on 
the floor next to the sofa.  

  "Is that so?" he asked, a bemused smile on his lips.  Raye laughed
and swirled about the liquid in her glass, creating a garnet whirlpool
between the tips of her fingers.

  "No.  The worst experience I've ever had with a guy would definitely 
have to be my first kiss," she said.  "It was horrible.  I was only 
twelve at the time; the guy had to have been at least fifteen."  There 
was a pause as Raye took a sip of her drink, frowning at the memory.  
"I was working then, sweeping the steps of the shrine like I always
do, when he approached me.  I'd seen him around before; he visited 
often, in those days, and we'd even spoken on a couple of occasions.  

  "That day I greeted him as usual.  We exchanged pleasantries, and 
talked about the weather for a while.  We seemed to be having a totally
normal conversation until..."  Raye trailed off, and rolled her eyes. 
"All of a sudden, out of the blue, he grabbed me, pulled me towards 
him, and kissed me.  I can't remember ever being more disgusted; he 
just shoved his tongue down my throat, and injected about a liter of 
saliva into my mouth."  She shuddered, and then laughed suddenly.  
"Little did he know, Grandpa was just around the corner.  He caught the
whole thing!"

  Across from her, Chad burst out laughing, imagining how Raye's 
grandfather must have reacted to such a sight.  "What did he do?"  he 
asked, sitting up so suddenly he nearly spilled his drink.  Raye 
grinned at him.

  "Well," she continued, "he didn't take it well.  Before the guy could
so much as offer an excuse, Grandpa was chasing him around the grounds 
with a broom, threatening all sorts of violence against him."

  The two burst into hysterics, wiping away tears that threatened to 
spill over their reddened cheeks.  Chad rubbed his hand across his 
tender side, which ached from laughing too hard, and smiled at Raye.  
"That's horrible," he said finally, shifting in his seat at the end of
the sofa.  "What a little prick!  At least he got what he deserved."  
Raye nodded.

  "He sure did," she giggled.  "And then some."  Lifting her glass to 
her lips, Raye sipped the liquid within, gazing at Chad over the 
crystalline rim.  "What about you?" she asked finally, setting her 
drink on a nearby table.  "What were your earliest romances like?  You 
must have a few horror stories to tell."

  "A few," he admitted, nodding his head.  "Nothing as major as the 
experiences you've mentioned; I've never accidently stepped on anyone's
head before," he chortled to himself, and Raye swatted playfully at 
him.  "But, I've been jerked around a bit, hurt a few times.  Nothing 
out of the ordinary, really."  He paused thoughtfully, and frowned.  
"My earliest pain and suffering can be traced to one girl in 
particular, though.  A girl I went to school with."

  Raye raised an eyebrow.  "I'd love to hear about this," she grinned.
Chad merely shrugged.

  "It's not that big a deal, really," he said.  "It was a long time ago
and I was just a kid, in my last few years of high school."  He took a 
sip of his drink and sighed.  "Her name was Whitney, and I first met 
her when I was fifteen.  Did I *ever* fall hard."

  "What did she look like?" asked Raye.  Chad scratched his head, and 
took another sip of his drink.

  "She was pretty," he said.  "Very petite, actually.  She had wavy 
platinum-blonde hair, and eyes so blue they were like ice."  He 
chuckled.  "Sad to say, her personality was much the same.  She could 
freeze you with a single glance, she was that cold.  Born to a family 
of means, she had a 'holier than thou' attitude that drove most people 
to either fear or despise her."

  "She sounds horrible," Raye muttered, wrinkling her nose.  "How could
you ever be attracted to someone like that?"  Chad shrugged again.

  "I don't know what drew me to her," he admitted.  "She was absolutely
vile.  But still, there was something about her.  I mean, it wasn't 
that she had money- I had plenty of my own.  Rather, she was completely
untouchable.  Perfect, really.  At least, I thought so."  He paused.  
"You know how some women are really attracted to the 'dangerous' type
of man?  The 'bad boys'?"  Raye nodded.  "Well, I think it was like 
that for me.  Don't get me wrong, I was never the most popular guy in 
school; however, I had no trouble finding dates.  Had I wanted to go 
out with a nice girl, I wouldn't have had the least bit of trouble.  
With Whitney, it was different."

  "How so?" Raye inquired, retrieving her drink from the table.  Chad 
sighed.  

  "Well, for one thing, she never showed any interest in me."  He 
chuckled to himself.  "I know, that sounds stupid, but it's the truth.
In Whitney, I saw a challenge, a goal.  No one could get near her, and
I guess I felt it was my duty to try.  I suppose I thought I could 
'tame' her, get her to mellow out a little."

  "Turn her into a human being?"  Raye quipped.

  "Something like that.  Anyway, she became my obsession; one that 
would haunt me for nearly two years."  He rolled his eyes.  "Was I ever
pathetic; I followed her everywhere.  Classes I had with her became the
center of my day.  I even learned Spanish when I found out she needed a
tutor.  I was," he laughed, "an absolute loser.  I can admit it."

  Raye giggled, and sipped her drink.  "How cute," she laughed.  Chad 
snorted.

  "Yeah, real cute," he muttered.  "Not that it mattered in the least; 
she never noticed me.  It wasn't until graduation that I was finally 
able to tell her how I felt about her.  Breaking through the crowd of 
people that surrounded her- there were *always* people surrounding her 
back then- I asked her if she would come for a walk with me."  With a 
shake of the head, Chad finished the last of his wine in a single gulp 
and placed the empty glass next to the wine bottle on the floor.  "I 
must have looked like an idiot- all decked out in my tuxedo with a 
wilted bouquet clutched in my sweaty palms.  I don't know what I was 
thinking- I figured she'd turn me down for sure.  But to my surprise, 
she didn't.  She accepted my invitation and before I knew it the two of
us were walking side-by-side through the expansive gardens of the 
country club where our ceremony had been held.
 
  "Within a few minutes of strolling, Whitney stopped walking and asked
what I wanted with her.  I swear, Raye.  For the rest of my life, I'll
remember the sight of those ice-blue eyes flashing with a combination 
of curiosity and annoyance.  Suddenly, I felt about two inches tall.  
Try as I might, I couldn't quite spit out the words that were in my 
heart; I had gone completely mute."

  From her place opposite him on the couch, Raye cast him a sympathetic
look.  "Then what happened?" she asked.  Chad shrugged.

  "Not much.  There was an uncomfortable silence for a while, until 
Whitney got sick of waiting for my reply.  She threatened to leave if I
didn't speak to her, and then turned on her heel to storm away.  I 
guess that's when the floodgates burst; before I knew it, I was 
spilling my guts, filling her in on everything from my two-year crush, 
to the lengths I'd went to just to be with her.  I don't know if I 
expected her to be flattered, or if I just didn't want her to leave.  
Either way, she just stared at me with this look of disbelief on her 
face.  And absolute shock."  Chad sighed, and pushed his bangs out of 
his eyes.  There was a pregnant pause.

  "What did she say?" Raye inquired finally.

  "After she stopped gaping at me, you mean?"  Raye nodded.  "She 
didn't say anything.  Not at first, anyway.  Rather, she started to
laugh, as though I'd cracked some sort of fantastic joke.  I swear, I 
saw tears running down her cheeks."  Raye gasped.  

  "She didn't," she whispered.  "What a bitch."

  Chad didn't reply.  "When she'd finally calmed down enough to speak, 
Whitney told me that I wasn't exactly her type.  I was weak, she said, 
and my status was 'beneath hers'.  To this day, I don't know what she 
meant by that.  After all, my parents had money; I wasn't exactly 
living in the streets at that point."  He rolled his eyes.  "Naturally,
I was hurt at first.  But that hurt was quickly replaced by anger.  I 
was so repulsed by her attitude, and by the things she had to say to 
me.  After all that time I'd invested in trying to be with her, I 
finally realized what a horrible person she really was."  Chad forced 
a bitter laugh.  "Soon after that, I came to resent everyone around me.
To me, wealth represented all of the things that I hated: cruelty, 
greed, and selfishness.  More than ever, I began to desire my freedom,
and crave the open road.  I wanted to live life as I never had before,
free from the protective shackles of my parents' riches.  I'd write and
perform music, I decided, just as long as I could be on my own.  

  "At seventeen, I packed a few belongings and hitch-hiked out of town.
I slept here and there, earning spare change by playing my guitar on
street corners.  I frequented bars, eager to perform on stage whenever
the opportunity presented itself, which was usually during 'amateur 
nights'.  My life was restless, and without direction, but I was 
happy."  Chad smiled.  "For two years, I enjoyed that rootless 
existence.  Then one night, when I was nineteen years old, I fell 
asleep on the steps of a local shrine.  And the rest, as they say, is 
history."  He threw a wink at his raven-haired companion.  

  "So that's how you came to be living here," Raye murmured, fingering 
the long stem of her wineglass.  "All because of this Whitney girl."  

  "Not *just* because of her," Chad protested.  Then he sighed.  "I'd 
always wanted to know what it was like to live independently of my 
parents.  That wasn't exactly a new idea to me at the time.  After 
living such a sheltered life, it was natural for me to have a deep 
underlying curiosity about the world around me.  I'm sure that, Whitney
or no, I would have wound up leaving sooner or later."  he paused.  "I
guess she just caused me to leave a little earlier than I had ever 
anticipated.  Not that that's a bad thing,"  he smiled softly at Raye.
"After all, had I not left when I did, I may have never found my way to
this shrine.  I may have never met you."

  Seeing Raye's eyes widen, Chad flushed a deep shade of pink.  

  "What I mean is..." he stammered,  "It's just that... well.  You and 
your grandfather took me in, and gave me a place to live.  You helped 
me find myself when I..."  He sighed.  "Never mind."

  Nodding slowly,  Raye sipped her drink and stared absent-mindedly at 
the floor, unsure of what to say.  It had been over a month since she'd
pushed aside her emotions, locking away any romantic feelings she'd 
felt towards Chad, and so far she'd been doing a fair job.  
 
  ~Tonight, though... Tonight is different.~

  Being alone with him; a sensuous, romantic atmosphere; the warm, 
fuzzy feeling of the wine beginning to take effect: all had become 
factors in the lowering of her inhibitions.  Now, her mind reeling with
uncertainty, she finally spoke in a hushed tone.

  "Chad?  What do you think would have happened to the two of us?  You 
know.  If you hadn't started dating Lita."

  Taken aback by the question, he merely blinked in response.  "What do
you mean?" he asked finally.  It was Raye's turn to blush.

  "I don't know, really," she said softly.  "I just meant, what do you 
think would have happened between us, given the right amount of time?"
With a sudden shake of her head, Raye finished of the last of her wine,
and set the glass back on the table.  "Never mind, it was a stupid 
question."

  "It's *not* a stupid question,"  Chad admonished.  He gave her a shy
smile.  "I've wondered that myself, from time to time."

  "And?"  Her eyes met his.

  "Well, to be honest, I don't know what would have happened.  I know 
what I would have wanted, but..." he trailed off distractedly.

  "What would that have been?"  Her voice was gentle, quiet.

  Chad didn't reply.  Hypnotized by the deep violet of her eyes, he 
merely stared at her.  "I wanted..." he murmured,
        ~So much trouble in a gaze like this.~
"I wanted..."
        ~How does she do this to me?~
"You."

  Like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her suddenly.  Reaching out a
hand, he caught hers and pulled her toward him gently, feeling the 
lithe, unprotesting weight of her body crush his chest.  Unclasping 
their hands, he wrapped an arm around her back, feeling the smooth silk
of her dress under his fingertips as he reached up with his right hand 
to gently caress her face.  

  ~She's only going to hurt you,~ that small voice in his head whispered.
	
	~Let her.~

  His heart beat a rhythmic tattoo in his chest as he stared into her 
eyes, tracing the smooth line of her cheek with his thumb.  "Just you," 
he whispered.  Feeling her tremble against him, he moved his hand to 
the back of her head where he curled his fingers through her hair.

  He paused only a moment before his head dipped towards hers and their
lips met in a heated kiss, thick with the flavor of wine and strawberry
gloss.  Chad savored the taste of her mouth, pulling her closer to him 
as her lips parted and pressed against his more intensely.  Like 
swords, their tongues clashed against one another in a virtual battle, 
each combatant seeking to claim victory over their growing desire.  

   Gently he let his hand trail down her spine, finally coming to rest
at the hem of her dress, on the back of her thigh.  Relishing in the 
feel of her curved form writhing beneath his fingers, Chad moaned into 
Raye's mouth and tightened his grip on her, enticed by the passion he
felt in the kiss.      

  "Chad, wait."  Raye broke away from him suddenly and sat up, 
frustration clearly marking her beautiful features.  "You know that I 
can't.  We've got to-"

  "Think about Lita?"  Chad offered, breathing heavily.  Raye nodded, 
lifting her hand to touch her lips.  

  "We've been through this before.  I can't believe that I-" she was 
interrupted by the sudden appearance of hands on her arms, clutching at
her.  

  "Don't you think I know that?"  Chad demanded.  "Of course I don't 
want Lita to get hurt."  

  Raye sighed.  "But she will, can't you see?"  She glanced down at the
hands that held her so firmly.  Chad's brow furrowed and he pulled her
towards him again, so close that their noses nearly touched.  

  "I'm sorry for that," he whispered, his breath hot against her lips.
"But the fact of the matter is, I don't *love* Lita.  She's not the one
that I want."  He paused, staring intently into her eyes.  "You are."

  At his words, the last of her resolve shattered.  Lips met lips in 
another spell-binding kiss. 


--------------------------------------------

The End, Chapter Six


Credits:  "A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, 
	embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life."
	-John Milton, 
	Areopagitica [1644]


AN:  Ohmigosh!  I am sooooo sorry for the delay this time around.  As 
most of you know, I've had a LOT of personal problems to deal with 
these past couple months and on top of that, well, you read the 
chapter!  It's twice as long as previous ones.  That's right.  This was
a HUUUUUUGGGGGEEE bleedin' project to tackle this time around.  And 
writing it was almost painful at times.  I swear, there were times 
where I literally had to smack myself in the face while working and 
say, 'You!  Get working!'  I forced myself into several writing 
marathons this chapter... it got to the point where it wasn't that odd 
to see me in front of the computer, typing away, for eight hours at a
stretch.  Argh.  It was... work.  I really wish I could have gotten 
this out in time for X-mas, but... c'est la vie, eh?  I'm sure you all
will forgive me.  

Big kisses and hugs go out to Nae, Steph, Des, Court, and everyone at
ASMR for helping me out during my roughest times.  You guys will 
seriously never know how much you helped me out, I swear.  I love you 
all so much!  

Thanks also go out to Meara, my editor this time around.  I'll admit,
I was disappointed when I learned my precious Moon Senshi was too busy
to do it anymore.  But I've got to say... I cannot think of a better
replacement than Meara.  You're a talented, intelligent woman- one I
deeply respect.  Thank you.

I do hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter.  Only two more to go!
And don't worry, neither of *those* will be nearly as long as this one.
Hopefully, that means I'll get them out faster.  ;)

  Love and kisses all of you,
  Sincerely,
  Mercury Blue.