Mission Room Confessions
By Amidala

Ohayo, minna-san. It's 2:00 am, I'm hyper, bored and tired. I wrote this. I own nothing.
Well, maybe a pair of socks and a t-shirt full of holes. Don't sue unless you *want* these old
socks and t-shirt full of holes. Arigatou! ^-^

~~~~~~~~~
blablabla = memories; <blablabla> = thoughts
~~~~~~~~~
**********

<Gulp>

Makoto shifted nervously in her seat. She could imagine his eyes boring flaming holes through
the cover of the old leather bound book she held in front of her face.
<Oh kamisama. He must still be pissed about yesterday.> she thought and squirmed in her
chair some more.

Well, it hadn't been her fault ... not really, anyway. It wasn't like she knew that *he* knew
English.
<Eh. He did look cute when he was flustered,> Makoto smirked a little.

She sighed a little, that wasn't going to do her any good now. Now they were sitting in the
mission room, the blank TV screen staring back at them. It was the weekend, so everybody was out
somewhere, everyone except herself and the glaring boy in front of her. He had dragged her down
here early in the morning and sat her down, then hadn't done anything, just sat there and stared
at her.
<Well, that's the bright side. He hasn't tried anything. None of his death threats, he
hasn't tried to chop of my hair, hasn't started chanting 'Kino Makoto! Shine!' ... just glared at
me> she admonished herself.

Thinking about that, the girl sweatdropped. This was the mission room! Hell, they had had to
tramp down three flights of stairs just to get to the spiral staircase that led down here. Any
sound was muffled, those damn doors were about a foot thick, and nobody except Weiß and Manx or
Birman was allowed down here. She peered cautiously over the top of the old book.
<EEP!!>

She just as quickly lowered her eyes. Those deep violet ones had met hers, and scared her to
death.
<I am dead! They'll never find my body and, and it'll be weeks before he mentions
something to somebody, or maybe they'll smell it first ... >

Makoto dared another peek at Aya. This time the boy was staring at the TV screen. The bit of
light from the dimmed light bulb gave his sharp features a supernatural glow and made his hair
seem a ruby red, not auburn. She pictured the blush that crossed his face again and giggled in
spite of her situation. Then she nearly choked as the noise brought Aya's full attention to her
again. It was strange, the red-head didn't seem all that sulky, as he might normally have been.
Makoto's back started aching, signaling that she had been sitting in one position for too long.
Hoping to look casual, she stretched, wincing at the cracking noise she heard from her back.
After settling back into her chair she yawned.
<BORING!!! Argh. I was gonna play soccer with Ken, or go out with Yoji, demo iiiieeee. He
just HAD to drag me here, then sit me down and watch me do NOTHING!!!>

Trying desperatly to get comfortable, the girl began to ponder the true mysteries of life. For
example, how the hell did Usagi manage to eat and eat, yet never gain an ounce? Where exactly
did the henshin wands go to when not in use? Or Ami's hair, was it really blue? How did Omi
stay so damned genki, even in the ungodly hours of the morning? And how did Yohji sleep with so
many women, but never get a sexually tansmitted disease?
"Makoto."

The single word brought Makoto back to reality. She looked over at Aya and grinned widely,
however nervously.
"Saa, the great Fujimiya Aya talks, eh?"

Then she froze. His intense eyes bored holes through her. Briefly she wondered if she could
just run out the door, screaming her head off. Then again, this was Fujimiya Aya, the flower
selling, stone cold, katana wielding bringer of death, and fastest damn person she'd ever met.
He'd probably kill her before she got two feet passed him.
"Makoto," he said again.

This time he motioned with a finger for her to come to him. The girl stood up and slowly
shuffled over, keeping an eye on the nearest door in hopes of making some narrow escape. But
that idea was just as quickly squashed when Aya pointed to the seat right in front of him.
Warily, Makoto leaned against the table, half sitting on it, half not. Suddenly, Aya stepped in
close to her. His hands, freakishly gentle, cupped her face and his eyes stared into hers.
Makoto looked deep into his own, not being able to look away.
<What is he looking for? Is he trying to find something?> she wondered.

For once, Makoto allowed herself to forget that she had ever met Sempai and looked to her hearts'
content. Aya's fine red hair and ear tails, which always stayed in place no matter what. She
imagined him brushing five gallons of jel into his hari every morning. The mental picture amused
her so, that she snorted softly and her lips quirked upwards. She was forced to draw a deep
breath as Aya's ... <Glare? Intensly unnerving stare?> ... was focused on her lips. She still
focused her attention on his eyes and her breathing grew ragged as the boy's look changed from
looking for something to something else. Something, distinctly ... hungry and preditory.
"Close your eyes," he said.

It was said softly enough, Aya was never one to talk, but she had never heard even Sempai say
something with such ... undertones. She obeyed and waited for the results. She felt Aya's hands
grip her face and whimpered softly ... which was swallowed as Aya's mouth settled protectively
and possesively over hers. She leaned into the kiss dizzily, thinking <Hn. Must be some last-
wish-for-the-soon-to-be-dead, thing> and a memory brushed the back of her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~
<It's hot. Too hot. Iie, it's COLD! Iie, hot. Iie, cold. Argh, I don't know anymore!>
A light touch on her lips. Confused, she turned away from it, but it followed her. Something
cooled her forehead. It felt so good, she gave in and let it stay.
~~~~~~~~~~

Makoto shook her head to clear it.
<What's this?>

Aya paused and opened his eyes to watch the slim girl beneath him. Could she remember? The boy
smirked, it didn't matter now. He pulled his hands away from the girl's face and lightly ran
them down the length of her long arms. That caused the girl to shiver and press closer to him.
<What have we here? Hn, omoshiroi.>

He ran his fingers up her arms this time, then around to the back of her neck. He slowly began
to massage the area, moving his fingers gently, almost as if trying to locate something with her
permission. Makoto leaned in even closer to the sturdy presence of warmth in front of her. She
sighed into Aya's mouth when he began to massage her back. The red-head's mouth never parted
from hers.
<Ah well, now at least when I die I'll die a happy woman.>

Aya could feel Makoto go limp in his arms, almost literaly melting into him.
<Mental note to self: Makoto really likes these massages,> he filed that fact away,
something for them to do when they had the time.

Yeah, nobody was allowed down here and the others were gone, but the couch and the bear floor
wasn't the best place for what he had planned for the two of them. Something else was triggered
in Makoto's memory.

~~~~~~~~~~
The feather light touch was cool against her burning skin. Shimatte, she was thirsty! In a
cracking voice, she could only manage the words, "Mizu? Onegai."
Who's ever hands those were lifted her and pressed something cold to her lips which she drank,
gratefully. A calming hand gently moved over the small of her back.
~~~~~~~~~~

Now the hands that massaged her back gently, incredibly enough Aya's hands, reminded Makoto of
when she had been sick from something and the feverish dreams she'd had. In one, a figure had
stayed by her and soothed and cared for her.
<No way ... not Fujimiya-Ore-wa-Kori-Otoko-Aya.> she frowned.

But then, Aya had been there. Could it have been him? Aya broke apart from the kiss slowly and
looked down at the girl, narrowing his eyes. He saw the girl frown slightly. Aya blinked, was
he doing something wrong? He itched to pick up a book and read into the subject, but no, it was
something else that was bothering her. Makoto made some muffled sound of protest and pressed
closer to him, snugly fitting her body into his. Her lips sought his.
<Well, she's not frowning over anything I'm doing. Could she remeber that night?>

~~~~~~~~~~
He had come back from his mission to find his partner shivering and moaning on the floor. She
had declined the mission because she hadn't felt well, but it had been a shock, to say the least.
He used his medical knowledge and tried to help through the night. Who'd have known that nursing
was so ... intimate? He couldn't help but run his fingers over her tempting lips and moving his
hands over the sweak soaked skin. Her hair had pretty much fallen out of the pony tail and fell
in waves around her face. Aya knew the fever wasn't too serious, though it wouldn't feel like
that to the sick girl, but he couldn't resist touching Makoto to reassure himself of that.
~~~~~~~~~~

Again, Aya smirked. He couldn't resist it. He leaned down by Makoto's ear.
"Do you remember?" he whispered.

Makoto blinked her eyes open and found herself cheek to cheek with Aya.
<Kamisama! That dream!> "Uh ... remember what?" she whispered back.

Aya moved his face back and placed a feather light kiss on Makoto's forehead. "Kore ... "
Makoto's eyes widened and she gaped at Aya's neck, not having a proper face to gape at.

~~~~~~~~~~
It was just after dawn, Makoto's fever was finally receding. She opened her eyes, squinted
against the bright sunlight that bombarded her vision and tried to make out who the figure was
that stood over her. The figure moved to block the path of the light, then bent down and placed
a feather light kiss on her still warm forehead. Drowsily, Makoto blinked, then closed her eyes
and fell asleep thinking what a nice dream it had been.
~~~~~~~~~~

Well whaddya know? Apparently, it WAS Aya. Makoto stood dumbfounded in the boy's arms. Now
this was ... interesting? Unexpected? Shocking?
<Who'm I kidding? This is the weirdest thing that I've had happen to me since I had a
crush on an AILEN!> she thought. <Heh, who'd a thought? The great rock known as Fujimiya Aya has
maternal instincts!>

She giggled.
And giggled again.
And one more time for good measure.
Ok, now she was begining to get hysterical.
<Pull yourself together, girl. You're the female equivalent of death, and death doesn't
giggle!> she mentally rapremanded herself.

Aya scowled at the girl in his arms. He could detect a muffled sound, suspiciously giggle like,
coming from her. He grunted a little and held the girl more securly in his arms. It felt so
right to hold her like this, even if they had met through an argument and both declared their
mutual dislike of the other. Makoto leaned into him more, getting comfortable.
"Aya-kun ... "
"Ran."
"Nani?"
"My real name is Ran."
"Ran ... Ran-kun ... I like it."

~Ende~

ANs: Yes, I know there's no real reason why Mako is there in the first place. Maybe I'll write a
companion fic to this and make one. It all depends on the readers.

"Fujimiya-Ore-wa-Kori-Otoko-Aya" means "Fujimiya-I-am-Ice-Man-Aya".

I know Aya seems OOC, because he's *very* OOC. I did that cos otherwise there'd be no story.
'Sides, he can't be *all* ice. If you've seen the very end of the series, you know what I'm
talkin' about.