{These characters are not property of me. I would never attempt to claim them as my own. This story may not be used without my permission, and may not be used to make money in any way, shape or form. Characters and certain situations were created by Rumiko Takahashi, so don't try any funny stuff!}

by Lara Bartram

Dark. It was night. That's what night was usually like. But it seemed darker even. And standing against the wall, the street light casting it's ghoulish light on her, the night seemed like a great void.

She shifted uncomfortably. If she saw anyone she knew... Well, she would probably die right there. It was bad enough before, but now, like this, things would be worse. The tight skirt, not too short, was exactly the wrong thing to be wearing in the chill air, and the high heels were murder on her feet, but...

She spotted a car turning the corner down the street. Would that be him? Would that be her 'customer'? She crossed her arms over her chest, partly in defiance, partly to keep her warm. What had happened that she ended up on this street, waiting for a man to pick her up like she was some cheap side of beef?

She scowled, but as the car approached, she could see it was a long black limo, and smiled a little. She stepped toward the curb as the huge vehicle began to slow.

It stopped in front of her and the door opened. She stood a few feet away as the rider got out and looked her over. She evaluated his appearance as well. Tall, well formed, wearing black suit pants and black shoes shined to perfection. The collar button of his white shirt was undone and the dark print tie was loosened just a bit. The black suspenders made him look like he was going to or just leaving a funeral.

"Are you looking for a date?" she asked. It sounded awful, but if it worked, what difference did it make?

She looked unhappy. She was smiling a little, but it was forced. With her arms like that, she looked defiant, angry. He didn't like standing out in the open, under the streetlight, where anyone might see them. He was nervous, but the whole situation was kind of... exciting.

"I... I've never done this before," he said in an uncertain voice.

Her smile grew a bit more genuine. "I can tell," she answered. "Shall we go?" She gestured to the waiting limo.

He nodded mutely and allowed her to enter the car first, then followed and closed the door.

He watched her survey the vehicle. "Very nice," she said appreciatively.

He nodded, then turned to the driver in the front seat. "Go."

The driver nodded and raised the opaque partition between the front and back seats.

He swallowed as he felt the car lurch into motion. It was all a new experience for him; he had never needed to so something like it before. Slowly, he pulled out his wallet and removed a large stack of yen. "What... what will that get me?"

She eyed it greedily. "For that much, I'll do whatever you want me to."

He nodded, not quite sure how to proceed. He loosened his tie further, feeling very warm in the confines of the car. "Would you like some champagne?" He gestured to a bottle and two glasses.

"Love some." She sat next to him, her leg rubbing against his.

He poured two glasses with shaking hands and gave one to her.

"Do you always have champagne waiting in your limo?" she asked, eyeing him while she sipped.

"No. This was for my boss. We were supposed to have a meeting, but it was canceled."

"He should feel lucky that you're such a dedicated employee."

"Well, it's a she really. Sometimes, I don't think she realizes how much work I do. She just treats me like..."

"How does she treat you?" She set down her glass and slipped his tie off.

"She treats me like I'm just..."

"Just what?" She started to undo the buttons of his shirt.

"Like I'm just a toy."

"What's wrong with that?" She had unbuttoned his shirt entirely and was working on his pants.

"I'm not a toy. And all she ever does is play games."

"So what's wrong with playing games?" She slipped the suspenders off his shoulders and opened his shirt all the way.

"She can't expect me to keep playing her games..."

"Why not? Don't you like her?" She leaned over and began kissing his chest.

"I do. She's very nice when she wants to be."

"Then what's the problem?" She worked her hand into his pants, down into his boxers and resumed kissing his chest.

"She doesn't realize... I'd do anything for her..."

"I still don't see the problem." She started working his pants down.

"She can't expect me to keep playing her games if she never lets me win." He raised himself off the seat so she could pull his pants down.

"She wins every time?" She removed her hand from his boxers and hiked her skirt up, then straddled his lap, rubbing her hands on his chest.

"Every time." His hands went up to the gauzy blouse she was wearing and slipped it off her shoulders.

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough." She ran her fingers through his hair, grinding herself against him.

"I... I try my hardest." His breath was short and his member was straining, almost painfully, in his boxers. She was teasing him.

"Your hardest?" She smiled at him. "Maybe you're not doing the right thing then." She allowed him to remove her shirt completely; she had not worn a bra.

He didn't say anything, only caressed her bare breasts with his palms.

"Maybe she wants you to play with her." She leaned forward and sucked on his earlobe for a moment.

"I can't do that. I'll get in trouble..." He removed one hand and let it slide up and down her calf.

"Do you think she likes you?" She unhooked her skirt in the back so that it was loose.

"I... think so. She always... looks at me..." The hand on her calf moved up to her thigh, his fingertips moving under the material of the skirt.

"Then maybe she wants you to do the same thing back. Maybe she wants you to take control." Her hands returned to his chest, teasing his nipples to attention.

"Take control? But why would she want me to do that?" The hand on her thigh moved higher until it was completely under the skirt.

"You don't know much about psychology, do you?" She slid off his lap, his hand pulling out from underneath her skirt, and stroked the fabric of his shorts over the obscene bulge.

"No. And I don't know anything about women either." He worked her skirt down so he could see the waist of the white lace panties she was wearing.

"Here's a lesson then. She's your boss, but you think she likes you?" She removed her skirt completely, never removing her hand from his crotch.

He nodded and ran his fingers over the lace, his eyes moving over her bared body.

"Then get her alone and take control. She wants you to be the boss for once." She started to pull his boxers down when his hand stopped her.

He scooted back from her and held up a 10,000 yen bill. He shoved it into his shorts and said, "Fetch."

She thought he looked rather silly with his pants around his ankles, but that made things all the easier. She kneaded the muscles of his calf and thigh, his leg twitching every so often, her eyes gazing into his. "Do you think I'm a pet?"

He looked at her in surprise. "No! I meant nothing of the sort!"

"Good. You might buy my services, but you don't buy my dignity."

"I don't want to buy you at all. I don't want to own you, possess you... I just want you to... I just want to make you happy." He sighed and removed the note from his shorts. "Still..." he said, looking at it wistfully.

"Tate-chan, you never make me unhappy. Even in these stupid clothes."

"You aren't in those stupid clothes anymore."

Nabiki looked down at herself. "Guess I'm not. So why don't we not waste the opportunity?"

"In here?" Tatewaki sounded embarrassed.

"Of course, in here," Nabiki laughed. "What did you think we were about to do anyway?" She began to remove his shoes as he cycled through the different shades of red.

"Still playing games... You'll never change, will you?" His pants were removed along with his socks.

"No, I don't think so. And don't act like you don't like it. I know you do. I saw your face, you were excited. It was a little fun, wasn't it?"

Tatewaki had been holding back, not giving an inch, but his smile slipped loose. "It was." He sat up suddenly. The limo was large, but still awkward. Taking Nabiki's hand in his, he moved to the seat along the side of the vehicle that was long enough for him to lay down on.

Sitting down, he leaned back and put his legs up on the seat, and pulled Nabiki down on top of him. Neither hesitated for a moment before their mouths met repeatedly, tongues seeking each other.

Nabiki sighed into their kissing when Tatewaki's hand slid down her back and squeezed gently the soft flesh of her rear. His other hand was pressing down on her back, bracing her, holding her body to his.

Squirming a little under his touch, Nabiki pressed herself up against him as tightly as possible. She shivered slightly as his fingers tickled her, trailing up to the small of her back, then worming their way under the material of her panties.

Nabiki broke their contact and looked at the man underneath her. "Not so hesitant now, are you?"

Shaking his head, Tatewaki smiled and began to work the delicate fabric from her hips.

Nabiki sat up on her knees, forcing Tatewaki's thighs apart, and looked at him. What a couple years would do to someone... "Tate-chan, I don't want you to take control. I don't want to be in control. I want to do this together."

He shook his head, resisting the urge to say 'You're so different' and smiled. "If that's how you want to do it." He smiled shifted into a grin.

Nabiki scowled. "Do you enjoy getting hit?"

"Only if it's by you." He braced himself for the hand that would soon be connecting with his bare skin.

*SMACK*

"Now, can we do this? Or do I have to beat you up some more?"

"Nabiki Tendo," Tatewaki said with all seriousness, "you can beat me off any time you want."

*SMACK*SMACK*

"Ow!"

"Are you ready to get serious?"

Tatewaki was rubbing his arm where a vengeful palm had landed twice. "OK, we can get serious."

"Good." Nabiki was looking slightly cross, but couldn't be upset in the least. She turned her head for a moment and got sight of the Tokyo skyline stretching out. They had apparently been heading to higher ground the entire time. "Nice view."

Tatewaki took the opportunity to pull her body to him and give her a passionate kiss. "Not as nice as the view I've got," he said after they separated.

"Tate-chan, you're such a twit."

"I know. Now, you're going to lay down with this idiotic, moronic, thick-headed, brain-dead twit, and he's going to do his best to give you another baby." He was smiling, but that didn't stop Nabiki from freezing.

"No. No more. Not again." It had been humorous with him going through all the names she had called him, but another baby? Takuma was only four, and the pain when he had been born (the pain when he had been conceived)... "I can't have another one. I won't."

"But don't you..."

"No! I won't! You can't make me!" She wasn't so much angry as she was hysterical. "You can't make me!" The hysteria was starting to fade. "Please, don't make me..." The tears began to fall.

He grabbed her and put his arms around her shaking frame. "I won't force you to do it if you don't want to," he said quietly, a little heartbroken. He thought they were over it; she had been so much better. And here, his unthinking had ripped open the wounds that had appeared healed.

"Don't cry. I won't, just don't cry." More than anything, her tears hurt him. They were normally because of something he had done or said that had brought back the painful memories.

Tatewaki put one hand on each side of Nabiki's face and forcibly tilted her head up to look at him. "Don't cry," he said gently.

Unfortunately, Nabiki couldn't help but cry. Yet, she was angry. She wiped her eyes roughly, realizing the stupidity of her crying, but unable to help herself. "I hate this."

"I know. I didn't mean to..."

"No, not that. I hate thinking I'm fine, and then something little sets me off and I can't stop myself." She leaned her head on Tatewaki's shoulder. "I want to be normal again. I don't want to go through this again and again."

Hugging Nabiki tightly, there wasn't anything he could think of to say.

The worst thing for Nabiki, truly the worst, was that maybe, in a few years, it would be neat to have another child. Even thinking about getting pregnant in a few years made her want to cry more, so what could she do? And the two of them could barely figure out how to take care of Takuma; how would another child help things?

If things had been different... If only...