Three Things Minako didn't say to Takeshi and one thing she did

Three

"I know, I know that I am going completely Sex and the City on you; the series, not the movie, mind, but I just wanted to ask you to forgive me. I need you to forgive me. And while you are by far more of a Mr. Big than an Aidan, because let's face it, the only Aidan around is Hiromasa - you're just not that nice- I know I screwed up and I am sorry, I am. I didn't think, I just hated us not talking and the thought of you talking to someone else and not me first is just...it hurt me, it hurt me so much. And then you shutting me out didn't make things any better, did it? You don't need to be jealous of the friendship Ando and I share, because you and I have so much more, don't we? I've been waiting for you for such a long time, I've never been in a relationship with someone even remotely my equal, because there's just you. Only you. And I suppose what I am trying to say is, please don't stand in the door frame, let me in, please let us talk. Please."

Her swirling stream of words died away, but her eyes were still imploring him.

Blinking, Takeshi moved his tall body out of the door, allowing her to enter.

Two

Looking into his green eyes, she felt the familiar ambition to prove herself. His respect was just as important to her as his love and a man like him never respected the cowering.

"I came to let you know that I am not going to stop being friends with Ando. If you don't want to talk to me, share your life with me, then I am not going to sit around and wait for you to change your mind. Make a decision, and make it now, Takeshi. Either you're in, or you're out. Which one is it?"

The muscles in his face shifted, until all she saw was a mask of inflexible iron.

"No one forces me into action any more, Minako. Not even you."

The door was shut right in her face and the sweet sound of Schubert was muted again.

One

His stormy green eyes held her captive. The emotion in them was palpable, it was rough and intense and of the kind that demanded to be satisfied immediately. Yet, she was used to danger, used to suspense, so she seamlessly broke free of his mesmerizing spell and brushed past him without an invitation uttered.

Strolling right into his living-room, she carelessly dropped her jacket to the pristine marble floor. The bow that held her hair together followed suit, gracefully dwindling to the ground and with one challenging glance over her shoulder, he stormed towards her. Lifting her up and gathering her slender form in his strong arms, he carried her over to the dinner table, shoving the papers that rested on its smooth surface aside and in one fluid motion, placed her on the glass that still held all of her fingerprints.

Her nails scratched his soft skin as she greedily pulled at his shirt. Sensing her impatience and his own that matched it, he tore it from his toned body, sending the small white buttons tumbling to the floor. Her own shirt fell down next to them, as he deftly removed it from her waiting body.

Pushing her back on the table, his calloused hands travelled over her curves, eliciting moans, inviting further caressing contact. The table's glass was cool to her touch. She still remembered a time when his skin had been hidden behind gloves and a uniform that she had yearned to rip off in shreds while waiting for hours for some ceremony or other to end. But there was no uniform standing between them today, and the ceremonies of this night were those of their own making.

Lifting up one of her long long legs, he began to remove her trousers and her panties with it. The image of the golden woman in front of him destroyed every possibility of remaining in control, and for once, he allowed himself the luxury of letting go completely. Throwing caution in the wind, he pulled her closer to the edge of the table, deftly rid himself of his remaining clothing and drove into as quickly as the rain drops outside sped to floor.

"Harder", she moaned and he -always the perfect gentleman- complied.

She arched into him, delighted at being trapped between glass and granite and wondered why it had taken her so long to return.

Reality

"May I please come in?"

Minutes passed before he gently took her hand and pulled her inside.

His hand was warm to her touch, and the feeling of his skin against hers allowed her to breathe again. He led her outside, on the balcony that was showered by cold rain, but none of them felt it.

Their silence had suddenly turned from a looming one to a companionable one, and for once, none of them missed the words that had been so hard to come by. They were content.

Hours passed before she gently took his hand and pulled him inside.

Both of them were chilled to the bones, soaked to the skin, but quietly happy at being close to another again. He wondered where she was pulling him, and - in light of their previous encounters - found himself surprised that it was his bathroom. Her numbs figures fiddled with his buttons as she tried to remove the white shirt he was wearing. Smiling, he helped her.

The hot water of the shower threatened to burn their skin, but they let it pour on their heads until all of the coldness was gone.

They spent the rest of the night in the darkness of his bedroom, clothed in neatly pressed pyjamas, whispering to each other as they finally got used to the sounds of their voices.