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Of love and mind games	By : kamorgana Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 3296 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Of love and mind games
- 1
Disclaimer: I don’t own RK, the characters are property of Watsuki and co and I borrow them for entertainment only. The original characters, the plot, ideas and words are *mine*, though.

Edited for disclaimer. Thanks to Firuze, Kireiko and Oryo for their reviews.

Tags: NC-17, lemon, M/F, oral, BDSM.

Of love and mind games
-A lemon side-story to “Preys”-

The sun was bathing their bedroom, reverberating on the white walls through the linen yellow curtains, creating a clear but intimate light. The fresh, sweet air of spring was entering via the half opened window, and the bouquet of freesias and carnations placed on the commode, allied to the subtle but deep bois de rose scent of the furniture, was pleasantly diffusing a vernal perfume. The noises of the city were barely audible, busy and lively, but faraway background.
Tokio smiled, and stretched lazily her bared body, giving an appreciative look around. Her husband had first grumbled about the decoration, too girlie, according to him. She had threatened him to replace the white and yellow tones, and the sophisticated yet discreet furniture, by a profusion of lace, fluffy ornaments, and a canopy bed, all in purple and pink nuances, to show him what “girlie” was. She let out a silent little laugh as she remembered his face. The rest of the apartment, kitchen and living room, as well as the two guest rooms, which they were using for working at home most of the time, were comfortable, yet very functional, modernly arranged, the way he liked, and they had agreed on a traditional bathroom. But the bedroom was her kingdom, and she had wanted it to be her way. He wasn’t that unsatisfied at the result, she thought, installing one of the big square cushions between her back and the wooden bars of the bed board. This detail, at least, had gotten his approval from day one, she smiled inwardly, lighting her first cigarette of the day. He was still asleep, lying face down, a hand across her waist. She savored the contact, the heat of his body and the dry roughness of his skin resting on hers.
Perfect.
She sighed, happily. It had been so long since they had a day off, since she could just appreciate a quiet morning.
A few seconds later, she felt his lips kissing lightly her belly, and caressed his back and shoulders in answer with her free hand.
“Good morning,” she greeted, with a gracious smile.
Propping himself on his elbows, Saitoh leaned into her, and teased her lips with his, making her smile widen, her mouth parting to receive his languid kiss.
“You’re early,” he finally mumbled, burying his head in her hair, his mouth now tasting the skin of her neck, his hands drifting down her waist.
“It’s eleven,” she remarked.
He stopped his ministrations to glance at the clock, frowning slightly.
“Seems that something got you very tired,” she added, smugly.
He raised a brow. “It would be my pleasure to prove you wrong, but I don’t want to encourage impertinent attitudes.”
He settled next to her, grabbing his cigarettes. Laughing, she handed him her lighter. Spring, holiday, bantering, and knowing Hajime, he would return to his previous intentions very soon. He was definitely a morning person.
Perfect day. She was suddenly in the mood for something special, and an idea that she had had in mind for a little while reappeared in her thoughts.
She smiled to him again, leaving the bed, and put on her silky black negligee, under his questioning glance.
“I’m back with breakfast,” she announced.
His expression shifted to dubious. “What are you preparing?”
“Breakfast,” she repeated innocently, kissing him swiftly on the mouth.
He watched her walking away, admiring secretly the way the silk was molding to her curves, her long hair caressing her skin with every move, the gracious and seductive sway of her hips. But a red alert signal was ringing in his head. Tokio was rarely behaving like the perfect little housewife. “Never” would be closer to the truth, unless she wanted to manipulate him. Her innocent smile announced nothing good, either. He knew it, and yet each time until now, she had managed to trap him with it.
He smirked, mildly bothered only. Life with her was never boring. He didn’t expect anything of married life and he had had no real preconceptions about it, as he had never thought that he would ever meet a woman worth it. Yet, he had never thought either that it could be that exciting.
That was a tad strange, considering that they spent most of their time together, and knew each other’s temper perfectly well by now. At work, they didn’t even need words anymore to understand the other’s thoughts and intentions, and in private, could guess the slightest change of mood, and the cause of it most of the time. Yet, he had still no feeling of routine.
Maybe it was because, she being his boss, they had to keep a certain distance on duty, and anyway they were both too committed to their work to let their personal life intrude. When they got married, they had even decided to avoid any non-professional interaction at the office, alone or not. After spending hours everyday, feeling close to each other, united in their hunt of criminals, appreciating their mutual competency, they couldn’t wait to be together, exchanging their points of view, bantering, arguing sometimes, but free to behave as a couple. And of course, to make love.
Their physical attraction had always been a strong element of their relation, and that professional situation fed the sexual tension between them. When working non-stop for several days deprived them of physical contact, the slightest touch was enough to ignite them, and sometimes, once they were off duty, they couldn’t wait to be home.
Like the previous night. Saitoh’s smirk deepened. The whole section had been mobilized days and nights, for most of the week. They had finally solved the case yesterday, and he had met his wife in the elevator of the police building, on their way home. They had used their last restraint, playing on it to intensify their anticipation, but they had lost it when she had given him the car keys, their hands brushing, in the underground parking lot, which, as she had decided a bit later between two repressed moans of pleasure, wasn’t technically the office. He couldn’t have cared less; he had needed her too badly. He had been almost violent, but she had liked it, she had been aggressive, passionate, and her voice demanding desperately more was still resounding in his ears.
Then they had gone home, and they had made love, again and again, until they had been too exhausted to make one single more move, their desire satisfied enough to allow them to sleep. He exhaled a long stray of smoke, while the images played in his head again, getting more aroused at the idea that he was going to have her again, very soon. A little pinching feeling coming from his tip informed him that she hadn’t been that wrong, earlier. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, and if he could still spend the whole night making love, it wasn’t without one or two consequences.
Whatever. It didn’t prevent him to want her with a strength that he had never experienced before. He just had to think of her to feel the urge spreading through his body, the need of her crawling under his skin. He could never have enough of her, and knew that he never would. He also knew why.
He had the certainty that she belonged to him, that he had the same power over her as she had over him. But he couldn’t dominate her, unless she let him. Whenever he thought that he had completely figured her out, she was escaping him. She was forever surprising him, and especially in bed, where she was particularly imaginative.
She was both familiar and an enigma. She was both his prey and his hunter. She was sweet, and she was ruthless. She was like him, and yet so different. She was all that a woman should be. She was perfect for him. His woman.
Stubbing his cigarette, he let out a disgusted sigh, glaring at the way too feminine decoration of the bedroom. He didn’t dislike it that much, as each detail spoke of her, yet the atmosphere was too cozy, provoking unwelcome and moronic sentimental outpourings.
She came back with a large tray. Although he had expected a serious amount of food, it was a light breakfast: black coffee for him, tea for her, orange juice, a few toasts and still a smug expression on her face.
She was definitely planning something.
***
Once they had finished, she settled in the bed, propped on her elbows, facing him. Saitoh’s eyes were fixed on the audacious curve of her back and bottom, stressed by her position. They narrowed as they fell on the thin scar crossing her back. He let his fingers trail on it lazily, feeling the little shivers his touch was provoking in her, her eyes filling with want. But she was still smiling innocently.
“So,” she started, in a sweet voice, “it’s still only noon, and we’re off for today. Do you have plans for the afternoon? We could still go somewhere…”
Ah, that was it. One of the other team members had surely planned a party, Makimachi probably, who was behaving like a club med animator on a regular basis. Tokio enjoyed their company, and tried to get him to socialize. He refused to: he was seeing enough of them at work. Not that he utterly disliked his teammates. He could tolerate Sagara, though he was still a moron, appreciated the sensibility of Kitaoka, and Makimachi’s honesty and guts. The problems were Yukishiro and Takani, who had brains, what he respected, but were always attracting Tokio’s attention and making her worry about them. When he was with her, she had to think of him, not of these morons. Whatever she was a surrogate sister to one and best friend to the other, he would not tolerate them in his private circle. The only one that he had accepted was Shinomori, his partner, and her other best friend. Yet, the idiot was completely besotted with the Weasel girl, and instead of acting on it, was behaving like a perfect cold, distant imbecile. Saitoh had no time to waste witnessing an otherwise intelligent man making a fool of himself during these “friendly” reunions.
Anyway, all he wanted, off duty, was to spend time with his wife. He allowed her to see sides of him that he would never show to others, and didn’t want foreigners intruding his privacy, period.
“If it means the two of us,” he answered with a knowing smirk. “But I don’t really feel like going out.”
He made his point by caressing lightly the side of her breast. To his surprise, she smiled, looking relieved.
“Fine. I don’t feel like going out, either. I thought that we could just stay here, and….try something new.”
He knew he had married her for a good reason.
“Something new,” he repeated, his smirk turning sinful, and his caress on her breasts more precise.
She exhaled a content sigh.
“Yes, something new….like talking. About sex.”
He bent his head towards her, murmuring: “You don’t talk about sex, you just do it.”
She pulled off, bemused surprise in her eyes. He marveled at her perfect acting performance. She had expected his reaction, he was sure of it.
“You never did?” Her lips twisted, tentatively. “It’s fun, you know….”
“Can’t be more than the real thing.”
Nevertheless, he decided to let her go on, indicating it to her by playing with some long strands of her silky hair, instead of pushing his exploration of her body farther. He wanted to know what she had planned.
Tokio contained a triumphing smile. She had him hooked. Hajime’s obsessive need to know was so easy to play with. One or two hints that she had something in mind, and he was going where she wanted…though she could never be sure of the issue, and that was the most thrilling.
“For example, we could share some dreams we have….”
He raised a mocking brow at the common, romantic meaning of the sentence.
“….I used to have dreams about you, since the day we first met,” she informed him candidly, though the light in her eyes was all but that.
His hand stilled. They had spent more than ten years disliking each other. Because they had felt the attraction since day one, because they were working in collaboration, which made any relation impossible by their standards, because their differences and strong tempers had clashed at the beginning, and clinging to the situation was the best way to protect their beloved independence and freedom. It had worked as long as they had had distant relations, to collapse when she had become his boss, and they were forced to meet each other on a daily basis. And they had ended up having exactly what they had tried to avoid, what they had been afraid of, and being satisfied with it.
Yet, none of them had ever mentioned that period of time. Certainly not to admit that they were drawn to one another long before their relation had started. They were both too proud for that. What was she up to, to make that kind of concession?
“Each time I knew I was going to meet you,” she went on, her daring gray pools locking with his, “I had these dreams, the night before. In one of them, we were left alone in a room, and suddenly you had that look….the one you have now….”
She drew the contour of his lips with her fingertips. Hard, firm, gifted lips. She couldn’t wait until he used them on her again.
“And?”
She got a grip on her rising desire as she noticed the twinge of excitation in his deep, lowering voice. “You walked to me, I knew what you were about to do, and I wanted you to, so much that I couldn’t move. I told you that I hated you, but you just grinned….”
He wasn’t grinning now. His pulse had fastened; she saw the veins of his throat beating spasmodically, and felt his heart pumping in his chest as her hands found their way down. His wolfish eyes were watching her intently, nascent golden flames lighting them.
“And while looking at me, you slid one hand under my dress, between my legs, and you caressed me, telling me that you knew how much I wanted it. I was trembling, you gave me so much pleasure….”
“Like this?” he murmured, reaching for her.
She closed her eyes, dropping her head on his shoulder, her body tensing under the sensation of sharp delight invading her. “Yes….like this….”
“And then?” he asked, stopping his moves, quite satisfied to have taken control of the situation that easily.
“Then, I woke up, and I was feeling so ashamed because you hated me and still, I wanted you. I could ignore it when we were working, but at the moment you arrived and the moment you left, all I had in my head was the dreams, and I could have begged you to just….”
His free hand seized her nape, and he drew her into a fierce kiss, while his other hand had retrieved its slow rhythm on her wet flesh, making her purr loudly into his mouth.
Tokio was fighting the urge again. She knew that using this word would make his control snap, yet she was so excited herself that she was losing hers. Why did he have to be so good? Why did she need him so much? She loved his wild nature, the imperative way he was touching her, overwhelming her each time they made love. She couldn’t let go now, though. She wouldn’t tell him, couldn’t tell him unless she was in control. She wanted to, but wouldn’t without compensation.
“Hajime,” she asked breathlessly, when his mouth left hers to devour the base of her neck, “do you have dreams about me, too?”
“Mmmm. Another time,” he groaned, his fingers probing at her entrance, his tongue tracing a hot path from her collarbone to the swell of her breast, setting her skin on fire.
She whimpered, the heat between her legs becoming almost too much to bear. She used her last breath to whisper, the most arrogantly she could.
“I know what they are, anyway.”
That got his attention. He broke off immediately, lifting his head to stare at her, a mocking smirk replacing his passionate expression.
“Really, you do?”
So she still had something up. Seeing her sighing regretfully, he decided to give her a little lesson. His groin was clenching almost hurtfully, but if she finally learnt who the boss was at home, it could worth the temporary inconvenience. She had to learn the limits, hers like his.
“Of course,” she had the gall to sustain, her delicate eyebrows arched high on her forehead, in fake innocence. “I know you….”
He let go of her, sitting against the bed board again, getting his cigarette pack. He lit one, calming his heavy breathing with long, steady drags, before he gave her the deal.
“Perfect. A talented lawyer as you are wouldn’t assert something like this without being able to prove it, would she?”
“Of course not,” she approved of, bemused.
She sounded very sure of herself. That was terribly challenging, and Saitoh terribly liked challenges.
“So, tell me what my fantasies are. If you guess, I’ll finish what I just started. If you don’t….I’ll spend my spare energy practicing at the gym, for the rest of the day.”
Her eyes glittered with self-confidence, her smile utterly sly again. “You can’t really want to win this one, can you?”
“I’ll do it, Tokio,” he warned.
“I know,” she answered seriously. They were both extremely proud, and that was the only limit to their mutual influence. He’d die with yearn rather than losing face.
She then rolled in the bed, lying on her back next to him, offering her body to his view, bursting into a clear laughter. He wouldn’t have to.
“I guess that the proof you already have isn’t enough, and that I have to find others….” she began suggestively.
“Already?”
She looked up, to dart her eyes straight into his.
“Have you forgotten your birthday?” she whispered, injecting a bit of hurt disappointment in her voice.
She was acting again. He could never forget that, and the devilish woman knew it perfectly well. It had been their most memorable lovemaking, in his perspective, at least.
“You’re probably the only man in this world getting more excited by a kimono, than by a revealing teddy,” she teased again, openly this time.
The day after New Year, she had sent him a note, asking him to meet her in a ryokan, in the mountains. The place had been empty, except for them. She had seen to it. He had entered the room she had indicated him, to find her kneeled on the tatami, wrapped into a rich kimono, bowing in welcome. Her beauty, enhanced by the traditional outfit and hairstyle, had stunned him. It was her birthday gift: a night behaving like the perfect, traditional Japanese wife. She had prepared his bath, and had washed his body sensually, before she had served him dinner, obedient, submissive, and all the time, her eyes were telling him that she wasn’t, she would never be, but she was doing that for him, just this night. They had shared some sake, and the alcohol had finished exacerbating his desire, which had exploded when she had announced to him modestly that she would do anything he wanted.
He had ordered, and she had obeyed. The image of what he had desired the most filled his mind, the image of her, her kimono half opened by his first wild caresses, revealing some of her creamy, tasty skin, image of her kneeling in front of him, pleasuring him with her mouth. She had never done it in this position before, because it was her way to control him, to enslave him, not to be submitted. But that day, she had accepted his domination. He remembered vividly the feeling of her tongue knowingly stroking him, the feeling of her mouth taking his member in and out, lovingly, tightly, the heat taking over him, his eyes closing under the tension, his muscles trembling, his hands grasping her shoulders while he was encouraging her to torment him more in a voice raw with need, until he had looked into her eyes again. The rebel light still present in their depths, along with a last bold move of her lips, had thrown him straight into ecstasy.
She made a swift move, and he realized that she had caught the ashes falling from his forgotten cigarette with the ashtray before they hit the bedspread. Putting it aside again, her eyes never leaving his, she passed deliberately her tongue on her lips.
“I think that you can finish what you started, now.”
Wicked. She was wicked. He just adored that side of her, reflecting his own nature. But there was no way that he would let her win, this time.
“You said “they”, Tokio. Not one fantasy. That could be….”
“The luck of the beginner?” she proposed, referring to their first meeting.
“Exactly,” he said, trying to prevent his lips from quirking.
“Fine,” she conceded. “But if I guess the next one, I win the bet. And, for my complete victory, let’s say that it won’t be any other one. But your ultimate one.”
He nodded, slightly scornful. He had thousands of fantasies about her, and if his birthday one was a close first, he had realized it only after she had done it. If he didn’t know exactly yet, there was no way she could. She couldn’t know him better than he did.
She changed position, facing him again, her gaze fixed on his torso, one of her hand idly caressing the sensitive skin of his stomach.
“Of course, it involves this little thing that you love so much. You like when I let you tie me up, don’t you?”
He snorted. “You know that I like this, Tokio. It’s not guessing.”
She had even given him some silk ropes, joking that he was ruining her scarves with his little habit. Not that he could do it all the time: as she had said, she was letting him, occasionally. That kept him on the edge. He suspected that it was her goal, and he couldn’t deny that he would have gotten bored, otherwise.
She let out a sexy laugh. “Please, Hajime. Men are always focusing on the obvious. For us, women, the context his extremely important….and for someone with your fertile imagination, it should be too.”
He smirked, wanting to see where she was going.
“So, the location changes everything. Things are more exciting when you transgress a rule. It has to take place in a forbidden realm, if I can use a cliché. And for us, it would be….my office?”
His eyes narrowed, a surge of excitation going up and down his spine. They had settled that very clearly, nothing while on duty. And he had always wanted to take her there, if just once. Possessing her, dominating her, at the place he had to take orders from her. Nothing could be more exciting…except maybe for the silvery shade of her eyes, the light touch of her hands on his abdomen, and the inviting intonations of her voice as she was arousing him with her words.
“As for the situation,” she went on, now grazing her nails on his clenching abs, “it can also add to the thrill. Like it has yesterday, when I wanted you like crazy, because you didn’t touch me in days….and you wanted me that way, too, if I recall well.”
She felt herself dripping under his hot look. He was going to give in. The thought increased the throbbing pulse in her belly.
“I knew that you’d like it,” she stated, confidently. “So….In your fantasy, we couldn’t be together for two weeks, because we were on duty, never alone….all these morons with us all the time. And something went wrong. You took an initiative, disobeying the orders, and it could have been a disaster….”
“If I did it, it was necessary,” he interrupted.
Settling on top of him, her legs straddling his waist, she bent to kiss his throat, laughing again. That was so typical of him. He never played with duty. She liked that side of him, his stubborn devotion to his principles. He was both so simple and so complicated. Her man. She repressed the words lingering on the tip of her tongue. Not now.
“Whatever, I had to scold you. We’re alone. It’s early evening. I’m very cold, distant, and you hate this. You’re furious at me, because you think I have no right to lecture you, and I don’t give in to your attempts at destabilization….”
She sighed, tossing her head back, as his fingers had closed around her swelling breast, teasing the hardening peaks. She clenched her fists, dying to touch him more, but she would make him ply with words, only, she had decided it.
“Go on, it’s interesting,” he ordered in a low voice. He could imagine the scene without problem. That was exactly how he had felt, not that long ago, the day he had kissed her for the first time. She had chosen this situation on purpose, of course.
“But when you’re about to leave, I make a mistake. I let you see that you reached me….that I’m vulnerable. So you lock the door, because you want to retaliate….”
“And you want me to.”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, in answer to both his question and his rough caresses. “But it’s the office; I can’t let you have your way there. I try to leave, but you grab my arm, and you kiss me so hard, holding me so tight, that I can’t resist….”
She caressed swiftly his tip, sending a needle of pleasure though him, but as he expected more, she stopped, watching him with that teasing, knowing smile of hers. She wanted him to be furious, making the fantasy more real.
Grabbing her waist, he pulled her to him for a violent, punishing kiss, earning some loud moans. He was indeed furious, because she was in control, and they were both aware of it. Instead of fighting him, she surrendered, and he softened against himself, his kiss becoming wildly possessive, until she pressed against him, until he saw her eyes clouding, and he pulled away abruptly, satisfied to prove her that he could shatter her, any time.
“Like this?” he asked, then, caressing her hair soothingly.
She nodded, before she could get enough grip on herself to talk steadily again. “Yes…just like this….I lose control, not knowing anymore where I am, until you let go of me, and I realize that I’m on my desk, with you tying my hands up. You can stay calm, but I’m completely lost….in you power.”
She let her hands wander on his shoulders, admiring the muscles playing under her fingers, retrieving her complete assurance as he lost some of his again.
“You part my legs, and I close my eyes, I know what is coming, the anticipation is so strong that I shudder, and I can’t help to cry out when your tongue touch me, at last….”
“Through your underwear?”
“I don’t always wear some,” she suggested, a wicked light in her eyes. He would always be wondering if she did or not.
She then bent to his ear, whispering. “You have no idea of how I feel when you’re playing with me like that. How completely you can control me.”
Her breasts were swaying just near his mouth, and he took one between his teeth, lightly tugging, rewarding her boldness. He wouldn’t be able to wait anymore, the scene vivid in his head, fueling his want, he was too hard, and dying to sink into her. She was aware that the talk would be over soon, and rubbed herself against him in answer, seeking some release, finishing to build his desire.
“And in my office, I can’t scream my pleasure, because I’m afraid to attract attention, to be discovered. I’m afraid for my reputation, and you use it against me. You know that I can’t move, that I can’t touch you, and that I can’t take control. I can’t fight, and you love it. You make me come, yet you don’t stop, you don’t stop until I have to beg you to, until I can’t help but telling you that you’re the only one who can make me feel like this….only then, you lift me in your arms, and…..”
On her last words, his brain snapped, and he pulled on her waist, making her sit back, taking him in slowly. Both of them shivered with the first wave of pleasure sweeping over them. He captured her mouth, their bodies finding their rhythm naturally, easily after the so many times they had made love, and with always the same maddening need as the first time. Their release was close, they were too excited already, and the heavy pent up menaced to explode after a few deep thrusts. She arched her back, he bent to follow her move, their hands caressing, their mouths biting, their tongues dueling, until she broke off the kiss, shaking her head negatively. She was holding something from him, she didn’t want to let go yet. He tried to slow down, but he couldn’t, he had reached the limits.
“Tokio….”he growled, pulling her closer, locking her firmly in his arms. “Tokio, what….”
“Hajime….not over….”
Panting, she gathered enough breath to talk again. “When we come….I tell you…. that I love you….”
The fire exploding in his eyes, and the feeling of him climaxing, deep inside of her, undid her. She followed him, with a soft high cry, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder again.
“I love you, Hajime….”she sighed against his hot skin, before her eyes closed, sweat rolling down her now boneless body, a faint smile lingering on her lips.
***
She dozed off for a while, content and satisfied. When she opened her lids, they were still joined, and he was stroking her hair and her back. It felt so good. She couldn’t stop smiling and deposed light kisses on his chest, too lazy to search for his mouth, savoring their soothing intimacy, her relief complete. She had wanted to tell him for so long.
“So,” she began as playfully as her hoarse voice allowed her to, “I was right…”
He kissed the top of her hair, and she understood that he was smirking. “So it seems,” he conceded. He might have lost the bet, but she had never told him that she loved him, before. He knew, of course, but it was different to hear the words.
And he didn’t tell her. He could grant her the little victory.
“You aren’t going to the gym, I guess.”
“No. But I’m not finished with you. I still have energy to spare.”
“Really?” she wondered doubtfully, impertinent again.
“In a reasonable lapse of time,” he groaned. “And we’ll do it my way.”
He extended one hand towards the nightstand.
“If you look for the ropes, they aren’t here. I misplaced them. Sorry.”
“Where are they?”
He was annoyed at the idea of having to leave the bed to retrieve them, even later. It felt too good to hold her like this.
She snuggled even closer, unable to hide her gloating satisfaction as she answered:
“In the desk drawer of my office.”
***The end***
A/N:

Phew…it’s hot in here (hopefully, lol). Initially, I wanted to write a PWP, just a bet and fantasies S/T lemon, and this one is the closest that I could manage. It was also supposed to be only about hot sex (Kamorgana + disheveled romantic love = very bad combination -and I don’t even throw our Miburo into the equation-) and the love thingy sneaked its way in, changing a bit the atmosphere. Hope that the last sentence erased the waffy flavor.

This story is a side-story to Preys and Predators, I hence placed a few references about the other characters (well, very tiny ones…but the two others’ business let me no occasion to, once they got on it, hehehe), so we can see how things have evolved a bit in the VCS interpersonal relations. Notice that Saitoh and Tokio know each other’s *tempers* perfectly…but expect a few skeletons to come out of the closets in Predators.

This was an interlude of picturesque sweet married life, have a break, before hell runs amok again (^-^).

Thanks to Malik's girl, Redhedlver, Anon and Firuze Khanume for their reviews of TLM, Irresistible and Preys.

Written in July 2003.
First posted in RK bad boys citrus paradise on March 8th, 2003.
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Of love and mind games