Bleeeeeed, Tin. Bleeeeeeed, Kit. Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeed.
This is not exactly hentai, but it is pretty ecchi. XD; PG for heavy innuendo.
No archive without permission.
SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT
Eriol was being stalked.
This, in and of itself, was scarcely unusual. Eriol had been stalked, as Clow and himself, by humans of both genders, medusae, harpies, sirens, dryads, naiads, succubuses, incubi, elves and five cats. No, six cats. Also, now that he came to think of it, a bored vampire who showed up every fifty years or so and tried to kill him, without really meaning it. [As Spinel said, he was more apt to be killed by boredom listening to the vampire's stories than he was by the vampire's fangs.] He could handle those. What really freaked him, what made him slink nervously down halls looking over his shoulder, was that this time, his stalker was Daidouji-san.
This was patently wrong. Eriol was used to having things in a certain order and certain places, and Daidouji-san's place was by Sakura-san's side, watching over her much like Eriol did himself, only with a video camera, no magic, and tacit permission to dress Sakura-san up like an animate and weakly protesting doll. Her place was *not* following Eriol's movements with an increasingly thoughtful, measuring eyes, as if he were a piece of merchandise or a work animal that she thought she might like to purchase, but didn't quite like to lay out the money for it until she was sure he would last a long time and wear well.
Eriol examined this last thought, and moved away from it as fast as he could. He was practicing [hiding] in the back room at school. 'Practicing' was probably not the word. He sat at the piano, a quarter of his mind paying attention to the keys, another quarter listening and making soothing noises at the piano, which was very old and apt to ramble on and on about the students who had practice with it, and what they were doing now, and that huge nasty Steinway they'd replaced it with, that thought it was so high and mighty. The rest of his mind was wandering.
That was a lie.
It was chewing the problem of what Daidouji-san was doing, over and over again, like a dog with a flea bite, which wasn't a particularly elegant metaphor, but accurate. Sakura-san might have suggested something. But Sakura-san. for all her many virtues, had never been accused of being observant about such things, nor apt to speak of them if she *did* see something. And the Li, as much as he liked Daidouji-san and earnestly wished she would find a way to be happy, would have been shot before he said something like that to her.
Which meat that Daidouji-san had decided whatever she was doing alone. By herself. Independently.
Eriol's mind reeled.
Half of it yelled happily about Daidouji-san! Liking him! Maybe! and how she was REALLY SMART! and PRETTY! and was MAYBE STALKING HIM! cos she LIKED HIM! MAYBE! The other, more rational half, was listing all the reasons why it was just his imagination, and why it would be a bad idea, beginning with the fact that she still liked Sakura-san [as far as he knew] and Daidouji-san wasn't apt to change her mind, once she made it up.
Although, his rational mind felt a cold chill run down its back when it considered the fact that he hadn't got a single confession note for two weeks [Eriol was not a vain boy, but being half-Japanese, reasonably attractive, intelligent and well-off made him a popular target for a sizable bit of the female student body -- and a certain amount of the male student body, too] and some overheard conversations to the effect that Daidouji-san had put the word out that Hiiragizawa-kun was, to be completely vulgar, off-limits until further notice. Daidouji-san never flaunted it, but when she said 'jump', the school asked how high, while they were in midair. The other half of his mind bounced up and down, and wondered if he should paint a target on his chest, for ease of catching.
"Hiiragizawa-kun." He leaped, and his hands came down on the keys in a discordant crash. The piano objected, and then went off on Oh, here's that nice Daidouji-san, doesn't she have a nice voice, I always do like to hear a nice soprano, don't you...
"I've been standing here for five minutes," said Daidouji-san, mildly. She came into the room and stood beside the piano.
Eriol controlled his screaming heart with an effort. "I was concentrating," he lied. "I beg your pardon."
One elegantly arched eyebrow shot up. "Why are you in this room? That piano gets out of tune if you breathe on it the wrong way."
"I breathe on it the right way, apparently," said Eriol, recovering. "It has a better tone than the other one."
Daidouji-san cocked her head. "Or else you feel sorry for it here all alone?"
Eriol blinked at her several times. Daidouji-san had a horrible habit of seeing straight through him. Him. The reincarnation of Clow Read. A still-powerful mage, who had a key that turned into a very long staff [Ruby Moon had another term for it, but he ignored her] and two magical guardians that he could call on to defend himself. He wasn't sure he liked it one bit. "Maybe a little," he said, smiling as hard as he could. "It does seem a pity that a perfectly good instrument should be put away just because it's old."
"It is a pity, isn't it?" she said, smiling.
Eriol thought this through and instantly wished he hadn't.
"Did you need something, Daidouji-san?" Oh, dear God, what was wrong with his mouth? "Since you were looking for me."
Daidouji-san -- no, Daidouji-san did not flutter her eyelashes at him, she never fluttered at anyone, and anyway, it was more of a slanting look from under black eyelashes like silken fans, and he was really going to stop reading Spinel's dime novels now -- looked at him. "I was just wondering where you were," she said. "Sakura-chan and Li-kun were talking about going for tea."
Tea. Yes. Tea. Tea would be good. Tea would take his mind off her stalking him, unless she ate something like those wafer straw cookies [with the chocolate cream center, which Eriol sincerely did not need to think about], and then he really WOULD embarrass himself. As Spinel would say, at least they weren't going to go for hot dogs. Or frozen bananas. Things could be worse. Eriol resisted the urge to bang his head against something and wondered why his mind had descended to the gutter. "That sounds like fun," he said, with more politeness than truth. "Did Sakura-san send you to--"
"Oh, no," said Daidouji-san, smiling. Eriol felt another cold chill run down his back, and the stupid half of his mind sat up and looked hopeful. "She hadn't thought that far yet."
"Then what are you doing --" he began, and took an instinctive step back as she stepped forward. Well, glided forward. There was something very feline in the way she was moving.
"Well, you see," she said, her voice dripping innocence and light and other happy things, and meaning none of them, "I've been wondering something lately."
"Wondering what?" he asked, warily stepping back again. She took another step forward.
"Well," she said, taking another step forward, "I was thinking."
"Thinking about what?" Eriol was nearly to the wall. He tried to look for an escape route, but there was really nothing he could do, unless he bolted in an undignified way past Daidouji-san, and Eriol had learned a long time ago to not underestimate her. She'd never turned her attention on him, and he'd hoped to keep it that way.
Daidouji-san was still advancing, and he was wedged in a corner, behind an old, solid desk. "I was wondering," she said, still radiating innocence, "about antique instruments."
Eriol choked. "Antique instruments?" he said, backing into the wall. "What about them?"
"I hear," she said, "That if you take care of one, it's perfectly ... sound ... even after hundreds of years."
Eriol's eyes crossed, but he managed to focus on Daidouji-san, more or less. His idiot body was yelling things about what she was saying and could he please do something about it, like kiss her senseless, because it was enjoying whatever she was doing ALREADY and just imagine what would happen if -- Eriol forced himself to think of multiplication -- argh, wrong word -- tables. "What about antique instruments?" he said, in, of course, a deep, husky baritone. Eriol hated his voice. Whenever he got emotional [emotional was a good word. Better than the other one he was thinking of, anyway] it dropped an octave, and it was nearly impossible to control it, especially now that he had his proper amount of power, instead of too much.
And you could bet your last pound that Daidouji-san knew damn good and well what that voice meant. Especially after the way her eyes slitted like a cat about to pounce, and the way a little, thoughtful tongue slid out and wetted her lips.
"Daidouji-san," he began, feeling precisely like on of Spinel's catnip mousies, "shouldn't you go to the library if you want to know about--" She advanced again, and he wedged himself in between the desk and the corner, and instantly regretted it. So much for his vaunted brilliance. He was trapped by a girl half his size and with no magic of her own, and it was his own fault. His stupid body said, very sincerely, it didn't mind, no, not one bit. He swallowed. "You really--"
She cut him off by simply climbing on the desk and leaning close to him. Eriol had an awful feeling that his eyes were two round, horrified saucers. "They say that the human voice is the oldest instrument."
Well, it was, but Eriol had no idea what made her say that. Also, 'voice' made him think of 'mouth' and by the time he got past 'mouth' he was in trouble. "That sounds like something Yamazaki-kun would say," he said, grasping at straws.
"But it is." Daidouji-san slanted him another look and Eriol's eyes tried to cross again. They couldn't because they were already staring at a point just beyond his nose, but they tried. "I like singing because I can make music all by myself."
Eriol's foolish, idiot, stupid, asinine body offered to show Daidouji-san a music made by two people. He controlled himself, with an effort, and tried desperately to smile mildly. "Daidouji-san, I really don't see what this had to do with--"
One pale finger stroked the knot of his tie. "You don't sing much, do you, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said thoughtfully.
Eriol tried to say something, but it came out "ghk".
"Now a piano," she said thoughtfully, "You can express feelings pretty well with one. But it's not like singing." Her finger hooked around his tie and began to pull his head toward hers. "Singing's so much personal, don't you think?"
Eriol swallowed hard and tried not to make stupid associations about endless pools of amethyst and Daidouji-san's eyes, which his hormones, with their endless screaming about the fact that Daidouji-san was wearing LAVENDER PERFUME! and they bet she'd TASTE REALLY GOOD! maybe as GOOD AS SHE SMELLED! weren't making any easier.
"Interesting, isn't it," said Daidouji-san, taking a firmer grip on his tie. "How so much of human communication is ... verbal."
Eriol gave up all hope of dignity and devoted himself to simply not slavering over her like a hound. "Nrk?" he offered.
"But then again," she said, with her nose nearly touching Eriol's, "non-verbal communication is --"
"Tomoyo-chan, Eriol-kun!"
Eriol tried to leap several feet in the air, but he was restrained by Daidouji-san's grip on his tie.
Sakura-san bounced into the room, followed by her faithful Li. "I thought we could all go for --" she stopped. The Li's eyes bugged out.
There was a pause.
It extended.
"Tomoyo-chan," said Sakura-san finally. "What are you doing?" Her voice held mild curiosity, nothing else.
"I should think that should be perfectly clear," retorted Daidouji-san, much too calmly.
Sakura-san thought about this for a second. "Seducing Eriol-kun in the back music room?" she hazarded.
Eriol had never quite felt such a deep connection to the Li before. For one brief moment, they were simply two males joined by the common awe and horror at the workings of the female mind.
"I thought I might take him home for part of it," said Daidouji-san, coolly.
Sakura-san put her head to one side. "Are you doing this because you want to, or because of me?"
Eriol choked. The Li wobbled, but remained valiantly upright.
"Because if it's because of me, I think it's a really stupid idea, but if you want to, I think it's great," continued Sakura-san, calmly.
"Sakura-chan, really," said Daidouji-san severely. Eriol had a moment to reflect that considering that she was on top of a desk and still had a firm grip on his tie, she managed to looked as composed as if she were discussing Browning over a cup of tea. "Who in her right mind would pick Hiiragizawa-kun for something like THAT?"
Sakura-san thought about this for a second. "Syaoran-kun and I are going for tea," she said placidly. "If you get done in time, we'll be at Café Piffle Princess."
Eriol howled. Daidouji-san increased her grip on his tie.
Sakura-san smiled sweetly at him. "RELEASE~!"
And there was no respect for elders or people who had done so much for you, either, Eriol realized. An ungrateful Heir was a viper in the bosom, he thought bitterly. Leaving you at the mercy of her best friend like the vilest turncoat. It didn't matter to Sakura-san if he was ravished. Oh, no, it made her best friend happy, so she was all for it.
"Kanojo no you no kanryou made kare wo nigerarenai you ni!" Sakura-san tossed up a Card. "LOCK~!"
The door slid shut with an air of finality. Eriol stared from it to the windows -- also Locked -- and then back at Daidouji-san.
"Now," she cooed, sliding one finger up his cheek and hooking off his glasses. "Where were we?"
---
"They still aren't here," said Syaoran. His mind still bled, even after an hour of mochas and chocolate cookies.
Sakura slurped up the last of her latte. "If they HAD shown up," she said, looking rather smug, "I would have been SEVERELY disappointed in Tomoyo-chan."
Syaoran decided what he really needed was more chocolate, and to stop trying to figure out girls.
--------------------------------------------------owari----XD--
NOTES:
Catsy-oniisama: How about "kanojo no you no kanryou made kare wo nigerarenai you ni!"
Meg: *spits coffee all over keyboard*
Catsy-oniisama: XD XD
Meg: XD XD Um, I hope that doesn't translate out to 'don't allow him to run away until she's done with him'. XD
Catsy-oniisama: Literally it translates to "Until her business is concluded, omitted through ellipsis in such a way that he can't run away". XD
Meg: XD
Catsy-oniisama: Gotta love the you ni construction. You can totally leave off what you intend to be done, and just give the "in such a way that..." part. XD
Meg: XD
Catsy-oniisama: In that usage, it become a suggestion/command to make it so (without much concern for how).
Meg: Nyahaha.
So yes, thanks to Catsy for translating that bit into Japanese for me, also to Meimi, Thea and him for reading as I wrote and making suggestions.
Eriol: O_;
Meg: *primly* I can't help it if Oniisama and I can read each other's minds. XD
As to why I wrote this thing... well, as much as I love ExT madness, I suddenly realized that most of the fics I read had Eriol chasing Tomoyo, and it was pointed out by several people that Tomoyo stalking Eriol would be funnier than hell. This actually grew out of a rabbbit Thea-oneesama palmed off on me about Tomoyo giving Eriol chocolate for Valentine's Day [Eriol: @_@], which prolly won't be written til next year.
The title comes from the Bonnie Raitt song 'Something To Talk About'. XD; Not quiiite appropriate, but pretty close.
-----------------------------
O! MA! KE! NI! WA~!
(And! The Amazing! Freebie! IS!)
[for Meimi, this time. XD]
Eriol measured the distance with a desperate and calculating eye. He could make it. He thought. He cast one quick look at Daidouji-san, braced himself, and bolted.
It was no use.
Daidouji-san's hand closed with almost casual ease on his tie, he stumbled, they both fell, and somehow he found himself on the floor with Daidouji-san straddling him.
This was not good.
SORE NI!
(And then!)
[contributed by Catsy-oniisama, who was enjoying this a little Too Much. XD]
"Now then," Tomoyo said casually, in a tone calculated to melt chocolate at fifty paces. One hand toyed absently with the end of Eriol's tie, as if it were an inferior stand-in for something far more intriguing. "You were saying something about antique instruments?"
This is not exactly hentai, but it is pretty ecchi. XD; PG for heavy innuendo.
No archive without permission.
SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT
Eriol was being stalked.
This, in and of itself, was scarcely unusual. Eriol had been stalked, as Clow and himself, by humans of both genders, medusae, harpies, sirens, dryads, naiads, succubuses, incubi, elves and five cats. No, six cats. Also, now that he came to think of it, a bored vampire who showed up every fifty years or so and tried to kill him, without really meaning it. [As Spinel said, he was more apt to be killed by boredom listening to the vampire's stories than he was by the vampire's fangs.] He could handle those. What really freaked him, what made him slink nervously down halls looking over his shoulder, was that this time, his stalker was Daidouji-san.
This was patently wrong. Eriol was used to having things in a certain order and certain places, and Daidouji-san's place was by Sakura-san's side, watching over her much like Eriol did himself, only with a video camera, no magic, and tacit permission to dress Sakura-san up like an animate and weakly protesting doll. Her place was *not* following Eriol's movements with an increasingly thoughtful, measuring eyes, as if he were a piece of merchandise or a work animal that she thought she might like to purchase, but didn't quite like to lay out the money for it until she was sure he would last a long time and wear well.
Eriol examined this last thought, and moved away from it as fast as he could. He was practicing [hiding] in the back room at school. 'Practicing' was probably not the word. He sat at the piano, a quarter of his mind paying attention to the keys, another quarter listening and making soothing noises at the piano, which was very old and apt to ramble on and on about the students who had practice with it, and what they were doing now, and that huge nasty Steinway they'd replaced it with, that thought it was so high and mighty. The rest of his mind was wandering.
That was a lie.
It was chewing the problem of what Daidouji-san was doing, over and over again, like a dog with a flea bite, which wasn't a particularly elegant metaphor, but accurate. Sakura-san might have suggested something. But Sakura-san. for all her many virtues, had never been accused of being observant about such things, nor apt to speak of them if she *did* see something. And the Li, as much as he liked Daidouji-san and earnestly wished she would find a way to be happy, would have been shot before he said something like that to her.
Which meat that Daidouji-san had decided whatever she was doing alone. By herself. Independently.
Eriol's mind reeled.
Half of it yelled happily about Daidouji-san! Liking him! Maybe! and how she was REALLY SMART! and PRETTY! and was MAYBE STALKING HIM! cos she LIKED HIM! MAYBE! The other, more rational half, was listing all the reasons why it was just his imagination, and why it would be a bad idea, beginning with the fact that she still liked Sakura-san [as far as he knew] and Daidouji-san wasn't apt to change her mind, once she made it up.
Although, his rational mind felt a cold chill run down its back when it considered the fact that he hadn't got a single confession note for two weeks [Eriol was not a vain boy, but being half-Japanese, reasonably attractive, intelligent and well-off made him a popular target for a sizable bit of the female student body -- and a certain amount of the male student body, too] and some overheard conversations to the effect that Daidouji-san had put the word out that Hiiragizawa-kun was, to be completely vulgar, off-limits until further notice. Daidouji-san never flaunted it, but when she said 'jump', the school asked how high, while they were in midair. The other half of his mind bounced up and down, and wondered if he should paint a target on his chest, for ease of catching.
"Hiiragizawa-kun." He leaped, and his hands came down on the keys in a discordant crash. The piano objected, and then went off on Oh, here's that nice Daidouji-san, doesn't she have a nice voice, I always do like to hear a nice soprano, don't you...
"I've been standing here for five minutes," said Daidouji-san, mildly. She came into the room and stood beside the piano.
Eriol controlled his screaming heart with an effort. "I was concentrating," he lied. "I beg your pardon."
One elegantly arched eyebrow shot up. "Why are you in this room? That piano gets out of tune if you breathe on it the wrong way."
"I breathe on it the right way, apparently," said Eriol, recovering. "It has a better tone than the other one."
Daidouji-san cocked her head. "Or else you feel sorry for it here all alone?"
Eriol blinked at her several times. Daidouji-san had a horrible habit of seeing straight through him. Him. The reincarnation of Clow Read. A still-powerful mage, who had a key that turned into a very long staff [Ruby Moon had another term for it, but he ignored her] and two magical guardians that he could call on to defend himself. He wasn't sure he liked it one bit. "Maybe a little," he said, smiling as hard as he could. "It does seem a pity that a perfectly good instrument should be put away just because it's old."
"It is a pity, isn't it?" she said, smiling.
Eriol thought this through and instantly wished he hadn't.
"Did you need something, Daidouji-san?" Oh, dear God, what was wrong with his mouth? "Since you were looking for me."
Daidouji-san -- no, Daidouji-san did not flutter her eyelashes at him, she never fluttered at anyone, and anyway, it was more of a slanting look from under black eyelashes like silken fans, and he was really going to stop reading Spinel's dime novels now -- looked at him. "I was just wondering where you were," she said. "Sakura-chan and Li-kun were talking about going for tea."
Tea. Yes. Tea. Tea would be good. Tea would take his mind off her stalking him, unless she ate something like those wafer straw cookies [with the chocolate cream center, which Eriol sincerely did not need to think about], and then he really WOULD embarrass himself. As Spinel would say, at least they weren't going to go for hot dogs. Or frozen bananas. Things could be worse. Eriol resisted the urge to bang his head against something and wondered why his mind had descended to the gutter. "That sounds like fun," he said, with more politeness than truth. "Did Sakura-san send you to--"
"Oh, no," said Daidouji-san, smiling. Eriol felt another cold chill run down his back, and the stupid half of his mind sat up and looked hopeful. "She hadn't thought that far yet."
"Then what are you doing --" he began, and took an instinctive step back as she stepped forward. Well, glided forward. There was something very feline in the way she was moving.
"Well, you see," she said, her voice dripping innocence and light and other happy things, and meaning none of them, "I've been wondering something lately."
"Wondering what?" he asked, warily stepping back again. She took another step forward.
"Well," she said, taking another step forward, "I was thinking."
"Thinking about what?" Eriol was nearly to the wall. He tried to look for an escape route, but there was really nothing he could do, unless he bolted in an undignified way past Daidouji-san, and Eriol had learned a long time ago to not underestimate her. She'd never turned her attention on him, and he'd hoped to keep it that way.
Daidouji-san was still advancing, and he was wedged in a corner, behind an old, solid desk. "I was wondering," she said, still radiating innocence, "about antique instruments."
Eriol choked. "Antique instruments?" he said, backing into the wall. "What about them?"
"I hear," she said, "That if you take care of one, it's perfectly ... sound ... even after hundreds of years."
Eriol's eyes crossed, but he managed to focus on Daidouji-san, more or less. His idiot body was yelling things about what she was saying and could he please do something about it, like kiss her senseless, because it was enjoying whatever she was doing ALREADY and just imagine what would happen if -- Eriol forced himself to think of multiplication -- argh, wrong word -- tables. "What about antique instruments?" he said, in, of course, a deep, husky baritone. Eriol hated his voice. Whenever he got emotional [emotional was a good word. Better than the other one he was thinking of, anyway] it dropped an octave, and it was nearly impossible to control it, especially now that he had his proper amount of power, instead of too much.
And you could bet your last pound that Daidouji-san knew damn good and well what that voice meant. Especially after the way her eyes slitted like a cat about to pounce, and the way a little, thoughtful tongue slid out and wetted her lips.
"Daidouji-san," he began, feeling precisely like on of Spinel's catnip mousies, "shouldn't you go to the library if you want to know about--" She advanced again, and he wedged himself in between the desk and the corner, and instantly regretted it. So much for his vaunted brilliance. He was trapped by a girl half his size and with no magic of her own, and it was his own fault. His stupid body said, very sincerely, it didn't mind, no, not one bit. He swallowed. "You really--"
She cut him off by simply climbing on the desk and leaning close to him. Eriol had an awful feeling that his eyes were two round, horrified saucers. "They say that the human voice is the oldest instrument."
Well, it was, but Eriol had no idea what made her say that. Also, 'voice' made him think of 'mouth' and by the time he got past 'mouth' he was in trouble. "That sounds like something Yamazaki-kun would say," he said, grasping at straws.
"But it is." Daidouji-san slanted him another look and Eriol's eyes tried to cross again. They couldn't because they were already staring at a point just beyond his nose, but they tried. "I like singing because I can make music all by myself."
Eriol's foolish, idiot, stupid, asinine body offered to show Daidouji-san a music made by two people. He controlled himself, with an effort, and tried desperately to smile mildly. "Daidouji-san, I really don't see what this had to do with--"
One pale finger stroked the knot of his tie. "You don't sing much, do you, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said thoughtfully.
Eriol tried to say something, but it came out "ghk".
"Now a piano," she said thoughtfully, "You can express feelings pretty well with one. But it's not like singing." Her finger hooked around his tie and began to pull his head toward hers. "Singing's so much personal, don't you think?"
Eriol swallowed hard and tried not to make stupid associations about endless pools of amethyst and Daidouji-san's eyes, which his hormones, with their endless screaming about the fact that Daidouji-san was wearing LAVENDER PERFUME! and they bet she'd TASTE REALLY GOOD! maybe as GOOD AS SHE SMELLED! weren't making any easier.
"Interesting, isn't it," said Daidouji-san, taking a firmer grip on his tie. "How so much of human communication is ... verbal."
Eriol gave up all hope of dignity and devoted himself to simply not slavering over her like a hound. "Nrk?" he offered.
"But then again," she said, with her nose nearly touching Eriol's, "non-verbal communication is --"
"Tomoyo-chan, Eriol-kun!"
Eriol tried to leap several feet in the air, but he was restrained by Daidouji-san's grip on his tie.
Sakura-san bounced into the room, followed by her faithful Li. "I thought we could all go for --" she stopped. The Li's eyes bugged out.
There was a pause.
It extended.
"Tomoyo-chan," said Sakura-san finally. "What are you doing?" Her voice held mild curiosity, nothing else.
"I should think that should be perfectly clear," retorted Daidouji-san, much too calmly.
Sakura-san thought about this for a second. "Seducing Eriol-kun in the back music room?" she hazarded.
Eriol had never quite felt such a deep connection to the Li before. For one brief moment, they were simply two males joined by the common awe and horror at the workings of the female mind.
"I thought I might take him home for part of it," said Daidouji-san, coolly.
Sakura-san put her head to one side. "Are you doing this because you want to, or because of me?"
Eriol choked. The Li wobbled, but remained valiantly upright.
"Because if it's because of me, I think it's a really stupid idea, but if you want to, I think it's great," continued Sakura-san, calmly.
"Sakura-chan, really," said Daidouji-san severely. Eriol had a moment to reflect that considering that she was on top of a desk and still had a firm grip on his tie, she managed to looked as composed as if she were discussing Browning over a cup of tea. "Who in her right mind would pick Hiiragizawa-kun for something like THAT?"
Sakura-san thought about this for a second. "Syaoran-kun and I are going for tea," she said placidly. "If you get done in time, we'll be at Café Piffle Princess."
Eriol howled. Daidouji-san increased her grip on his tie.
Sakura-san smiled sweetly at him. "RELEASE~!"
And there was no respect for elders or people who had done so much for you, either, Eriol realized. An ungrateful Heir was a viper in the bosom, he thought bitterly. Leaving you at the mercy of her best friend like the vilest turncoat. It didn't matter to Sakura-san if he was ravished. Oh, no, it made her best friend happy, so she was all for it.
"Kanojo no you no kanryou made kare wo nigerarenai you ni!" Sakura-san tossed up a Card. "LOCK~!"
The door slid shut with an air of finality. Eriol stared from it to the windows -- also Locked -- and then back at Daidouji-san.
"Now," she cooed, sliding one finger up his cheek and hooking off his glasses. "Where were we?"
---
"They still aren't here," said Syaoran. His mind still bled, even after an hour of mochas and chocolate cookies.
Sakura slurped up the last of her latte. "If they HAD shown up," she said, looking rather smug, "I would have been SEVERELY disappointed in Tomoyo-chan."
Syaoran decided what he really needed was more chocolate, and to stop trying to figure out girls.
--------------------------------------------------owari----XD--
NOTES:
Catsy-oniisama: How about "kanojo no you no kanryou made kare wo nigerarenai you ni!"
Meg: *spits coffee all over keyboard*
Catsy-oniisama: XD XD
Meg: XD XD Um, I hope that doesn't translate out to 'don't allow him to run away until she's done with him'. XD
Catsy-oniisama: Literally it translates to "Until her business is concluded, omitted through ellipsis in such a way that he can't run away". XD
Meg: XD
Catsy-oniisama: Gotta love the you ni construction. You can totally leave off what you intend to be done, and just give the "in such a way that..." part. XD
Meg: XD
Catsy-oniisama: In that usage, it become a suggestion/command to make it so (without much concern for how).
Meg: Nyahaha.
So yes, thanks to Catsy for translating that bit into Japanese for me, also to Meimi, Thea and him for reading as I wrote and making suggestions.
Eriol: O_;
Meg: *primly* I can't help it if Oniisama and I can read each other's minds. XD
As to why I wrote this thing... well, as much as I love ExT madness, I suddenly realized that most of the fics I read had Eriol chasing Tomoyo, and it was pointed out by several people that Tomoyo stalking Eriol would be funnier than hell. This actually grew out of a rabbbit Thea-oneesama palmed off on me about Tomoyo giving Eriol chocolate for Valentine's Day [Eriol: @_@], which prolly won't be written til next year.
The title comes from the Bonnie Raitt song 'Something To Talk About'. XD; Not quiiite appropriate, but pretty close.
-----------------------------
O! MA! KE! NI! WA~!
(And! The Amazing! Freebie! IS!)
[for Meimi, this time. XD]
Eriol measured the distance with a desperate and calculating eye. He could make it. He thought. He cast one quick look at Daidouji-san, braced himself, and bolted.
It was no use.
Daidouji-san's hand closed with almost casual ease on his tie, he stumbled, they both fell, and somehow he found himself on the floor with Daidouji-san straddling him.
This was not good.
SORE NI!
(And then!)
[contributed by Catsy-oniisama, who was enjoying this a little Too Much. XD]
"Now then," Tomoyo said casually, in a tone calculated to melt chocolate at fifty paces. One hand toyed absently with the end of Eriol's tie, as if it were an inferior stand-in for something far more intriguing. "You were saying something about antique instruments?"