Chapter 4 - I Know What You Did Last Night Disclaimer: Luke, I am your father. REAL disclaimer: I don’t own Sailor Moon. And I am NOT Darth Vader. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* “Z.....Zoisite?” I exclaimed, yanking the sheets up to my neck. Really, it was a pointless gesture - underneath the sheets, I was still fully clothed, with nothing to hide, except maybe a case of bed head. Zoisite sighed, a breath that caused his chest to rise sharply, then fall in dismay. “Don’t worry, Ami, it’s not what you think.” “Oh?” I said. “Then how did I get...” I gestured wildly, waving my arms around like a chicken with its head cut off, “HERE, with YOU, like THIS?” He took a deep breath and moved a wayward lock from his forehead. “It’s simple, really. You fell asleep during the movie. I took you here, and I slept on the other side. That’s it.” I lifted the sheets and I didn’t see any blood on the sheets, or anything else that would shed doubt on his story. Feeling embarrassed, I blushed. “Oh.” “You...don’t trust me, do you?” “It’s not that,” I said, attempting to recover the last shred of my dignity. “It’s just that when a woman who has never...um...you know... hadsexualrelationswithamemberoftheoppositegender... wakes up next to a half naked man with NO idea how she got there...she tends to panic.” His eyes widened at my admission of virginity. “You mean you’ve never. ..been with a man?” I shook my head. “That explains a lot,” he said, getting out of bed. “I’m so sorry. No wonder you were scared.” “It’s okay,” I said, straightening the wrinkles on my skirt as best I could. “I was just...startled, that’s all.” “Well, seeing as how we already slept together, can I drive you home?” “Oh, ha, ha,” I said, tossing a pillow at his head. He caught it in midair. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You throw like a girl, Ami.” “Well, I am a girl.” “I’ve noticed,” he said huskily, and something curled in my stomach, something making me almost regret what I hadn’t done last night. “Well, what do you want for breakfast?” “A poached egg would be nice.” “What, you don’t think us executive types can cook?” “I didn’t say that.” “I am a man of many talents, my dear,” he said, pulling on a white tank top over his silk boxers. I couldn’t help wondering exactly what those “talents” were. Soon, my nose alerted me to the smell of eggs cooking in the kitchen. I followed the scent to the kitchen, where Zoisite was poaching an egg on the stove top. I don’t know what was more enticing; the smell of food cooking, or the movement of taut muscles beneath the tank top. “It smells great, Zoisite.” “Thanks.” I looked at the clock and noted that it was 9:00 am. I was thankful that it was Sunday, the one day I have off from work. Otherwise, I would have panicked...again. “Here you are. One poached egg. And I took the liberty of preparing some French toast.” He stared at me, as if waiting for me to take a bite. I poured some syrup on the French toast and sliced a piece, then chewed and swallowed. It was delicious. “It’s really good, Zoisite.” He beamed and put some food on his own plate. “Yep. It is good.” “You are too modest,” I said. “Definitely a paragon of humility. So..on to business. How is that picture coming along?” “Pretty good. I’ve managed to crop the picture of you, but the shadowing still needs work.” He nodded. “Okay. Well, I have a minor change, and I figured, as long as you’re here, maybe you would take a look at it?” “Sure,” I said, then finished the last bite of breakfast. “What do you want altered?” He rummaged through some files in a cabinet, then pulled out a photograph. “I was wondering...could you change the background to this?” “That’s a picture of your apartment, right?” “Yep.” “I dunno...” I said, scratching my head. “It would take longer for me to finish than anticipated. It could cost you extra.” “Oooh! That’s highway robbery!” he said, clutching his chest melodramatically. “But what the heck. I’ll take it.” “Can I have your phone number? I mean...so I can tell you when it’s finished.” He smiled, the kind of smile that indicated that he wasn’t buying my story. “Sure.” He got out a piece of paper and jotted it down. “This is my number. My...personal number.” Something warned me not to look at his face, but I couldn’t help it. I was drawn by those emerald orbs, almost like I was hypnotized. My mouth went dry and I suspected I had lost all powers of intelligent thought. Somehow, I managed to croak out a “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it.” He kissed my forehead and walked away. “I need to get changed now. It wouldn’t do to be driving down the streets of Tokyo like this. What would become of my reputation?” he asked, winking. I decided to use this opportunity to freshen up. I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. ‘Hair...okay...outfit....somewhat wrinkled...’ I noted, assessing myself, choosing to ignore the telltale blush that had crept into my cheeks. I was thankful that I hadn’t worn any makeup, or I would have been a real mess right then. I came out and found Zoisite waiting for me on the couch. He was wearing a polo shirt and a pair of jeans that emphasized his narrow hips. His hair was in a low ponytail and a pair of sunglasses was perched on top of his head. “Ready?” “Yes,” I said, smoothing out my skirt one more time. “Oh, you look fine.” “But I’m all wrinkly!” I protested. “Nothing a little ironing won’t fix. Besides, I’m taking you home, right?” “Right.” With that, we walked out of his apartment building and into his car. “Zoisite?” I asked, as he pulled the top down. “Yeah?” “Um....can we stop in front of my work instead?” “Working the weekend, ne?” “No, that’s not it. I left my car there.” “Oh, okay.” He popped in a jazz CD and I sat back, listening to the music. “I’m sorry,” I said. “About what?” “Winding up in bed with you. That was very...unprofessional of me.” He waved his hand in the wind. “Hey, hey, hey. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my doing. Besides, I deal with enough stuffed shirts at work. It’s nice to meet a human being every now and again.” I laughed. “Thanks.” Soon, we arrived next to my car. I grimaced at the white sheet of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. ‘Oh no. I can’t possibly afford a parking ticket right now! My rent is due on the apartment, my car payment is next week...oh, damn!’ “Don’t worry. I’ll cover for you,” he said. “Are you sure? It’s ** yen!” (AN: I have no idea how much a parking ticket would cost in Japan. Sorry!) “Well, it’s my fault anyways. It’s the least I can do.” “Thank you so much,” I said. I fumbled for my keys, then pulled my files out of my car that I needed to work on later. I began to walk away when Zoisite called after me. “Hey, what are you doing?” “It’s only twenty blocks, not that far a walk, really.” He shook his head and grabbed my files. “No way. I’ll take you home, okay?” He had my files, so I had to agree. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” “Nah. Hop in.” I did, and we chatted amicably until we reached my apartment building. “Thank you so much, Zoisite.” He walked over to where Ami was and opened the front door. “I like to see my dates home,” he said. I blushed, but I let him follow me all the way to my apartment. “Can we see another movie? At my place, say, next week?” “Are you sure? I’m not a very lively date.” “Pfft. I could use some company.” I nodded, then began to walk into my apartment. “Ami, I think you’re forgetting something.” “I didn’t leave anything in your car, did I?” He shook his head. “The goodbye kiss.” I laughed nervously. “O-okay,” I said. “All right then,” he said. He drew me towards him by holding my waist. “Now, close your eyes.” I did as I was told. Soon, I felt a kiss on my forehead, followed by my nose, then one on each cheek. I felt his warm breath on my face, his lips millimeters from mine, and I giggled. “Zoisite, what are you doing?” I said, laughing. “Just this,” he whispered, then he cut off my laughter as his lips covered mine. All coherent thought had ceased, as my entire being reveled in the sensation of his lips slowly stroking mine. All too soon, the kiss was over and I heard, “Ja ne, Ami.” “Ja,” I mumbled. I licked my lips, reveling in the feel of it. I know I’m not American, but inside of my body, it felt like the fourth of July.