Charlotte looked around the cavern for any cracks or crevices they could use to escape but the walls were solid. Except for the one from whence they entered, and that one had caved in on itself. She tried to move the rocks that had piled there, but they were wedged tightly in place. She grunted in frustration. Her magic might be able to thread a path through the rocks. Her briars were thin and nimble, but she would be working blindly.

"I told you, we're stuck." The gruff voice came from across the small chamber. She turned and glared at the owner of the voice. He had taken a seat near the small fire he had built and had promptly started to criticize her work. "There's no way we are getting though the cave in. Not without spacial magic at least."

"There's no way we're getting out of here," she countered. "With you just sitting on the ground like that and not helping out."

She was angry at how easily he had given up. But she was also angry at how his every word seemed to get under her skin. Sometimes she wanted to punch him in the face. This was one of those times. She wouldn't do it; she knew she would never be able to connect. Somehow, despite his size, he was too fast.

Besides, she tried to tell herself. I am the captain of the Blue Rose. It would be unbecoming of me to get so angry with a lowly man. She stood before the pile of rocks blocking their way and tried to thread her briars through to the other side. It should have been easy, but something blocked their way. She could not tell if it was some sort of magical barrier or a more natural phenomena. She yelled in frustration, kicked one of the rocks at the bottom of the stack.

"Ow!" she said loudly before hobbling back to the fire. A deep rumbling chuckle echoed against the stone walls. "It's not funny." She glared at her unkempt, and unwanted, companion. He wiped his eye before taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"You're right. It's not funny. It's hilarious."

The urge to punch him came back as she pulled herself into a tight ball of rage.

Or rather, she called it rage, but as she looked at him across the fire, sprawled comfortably with his back against the wall of the cavern, his eyes looking lazily around, his hand going back and forth to his mouth as he inhaled and then expunged the smoke from the cigarette, she felt something more.

She clenched her fist and looked to the ground next to her.

He disgusted her.

He excited her.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

She hated herself for wanting him so badly.

"So, we're stuck." Her voice came out more harshly than she anticipated or wanted.

"Yep." Another drag on the cigarette. Where did he get those infernal things?

"And you're going to do nothing except wait?"

"Yep." Inhale, exhale, smoke from the fire mixing with the smoke from the small burning object in his hand.

She watched him again, feeling color rise to her cheeks, but unable to separate out the emotions that caused it.

"Assuming, of course, anyone realizes we're missing." Another drag, a shift of his body, pulling one knee to his chest and resting his elbow on it. Then another drag. "Otherwise, we'll just die here."

"You are just a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"You know what I do. You expected otherwise?"

She did not, of course. She expected him to be crude and blunt and, and... and she didn't quite know what else. She took a deep breath and watched the fire for a moment.

"Do you think they've noticed yet?" She said after a while. It had grown too quiet and her thoughts had started to betray her, leading her down a path of thought which would ruin her reputation.

"Who knows?"

She hoped her girls would already be on the hunt for their missing captain.

"My squad, well, if they've noticed, they're probably having a field day."

She looked up to see him take another drag.

She could no longer stand the waiting. She stood up and paced the room, anxious to be free-free of the cavern, free of his gaze following her movements as she paced, free of the desire she felt building within her body.

She wanted him to stop her, to wrap those strong arms around her and tell her everything would be fine.

She wanted to kill the part of her that wanted him to save her, to comfort her.

"Is it helping?"

"What?"

"The pacing?"

"No."

She sat back down, closer to him this time.

"Ugh, I hate this!" She vented finally, but she could not quite tell what exactly 'this' was.

"Yelling about it isn't going to fix it." And yet another drag on that damn infuriating cigarette

"Neither is sitting there doing nothing, you stupid... man." She sprung up, walked over to him. She ripped the small burning stick from between his lips and threw it angrily on the ground.

"Hey! That was my last one!" His eyes flashed in anger to match her own as he looked up at her. She wondered how he would react. Would he try to hurt her? She could stop him, bind him in her thorns if he tried anything. But part of her wanted to see something, anything, other than derision from him. His glare was intense and his anger was evident in the tightness of his jaw.

"What are you going to do about it, Yami?" She stood over him. He looked up at her and slowly stood until he towered over her. She felt herself breathing heavily, her heart racing, but she didn't know if it was fear or desire. He looked down on her, brought his hand to his lips before remember he no longer had his cigarette. He licked his lips instead before taking the helmet from her head and tossing it across the cavern.

Her blue eyes flashed at him as he sat back down. She walked slowly across the cavern to retrieve her property. His response had not been what she expected. As she bent over to pick up the helmet, she wondered what exactly she had expected him to do. She tucked the helmet beneath her arm as she returned to the safety of the firelight. She sat back down, across the leaping flames from him. She tried to not watch him or even look at him. She looked into the flames, at the cracks in the otherwise smooth surface, at pebbles scattered on the floor. She thought she could feel him glancing at her every so often, but she chalked it up to her own paranoia.

The silence grew oppressive. Charlotte wanted to say something, but she did not want to give him the benefit of watching her crack from the silence. She sighed as she pulled her knees to her chest as best she could. She had not expected him to crack first.

"Ugh, Gods, I am so bored." he yelled into the void. She looked over at him as he bounced his head against the cave wall behind him. He ran his large hands over his face and shook his head. He seemed desperate. He closed his eyes and his hand naturally drifted to his mouth.

"Shit." he croaked as he started gnawing on one of his fingernails.

"If you're so bored, maybe you could do something like try to find a way out of here?" She offered reasonably. He glared at her.

"I wouldn't be bored if you hadn't thrown away my last cigarette."

"Where to you get those anyway. You're the only person I have ever seen with one."

He harrumphed and started drumming his fingers against his knees. He looked over at her.

"Hey, Charlotte?"

"What, Yami?" Her voice was filled with impatience and frustration.

"Wanna fuck?"

She stuttered in response for a few minutes. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and her breath was short, too short for her to think much less to make words. Her reason went to war with her desire, and the response was a few strangled sounds as the start of a smirk turned up one side of his mouth.

"Well, I never..." she managed to get out.

"I know you never, that's why I asked."

More sputtering and she felt her face go crimson, but she also felt her tongue dart out between her lips.

"How the hell do you know anything?" she said, anger at his presumptions winning out for the time being. "I don't like men."

"Oh, that's right, you hate men."

"I don't hate men. I hate weak men."

He looked at her for a moment, his eyebrows knit together in contemplation, his jaw clenching and releasing.

"I'm not a weak man." His tone was even, determined, yet soft.

She looked at him feeling herself go weak and hating herself for it. Her first instinct was to scream at him that he was weak, the weakest man she had ever met, but she knew it was a lie. And she had lied too often. She took a moment to suppress the instinct and say what she really felt.

"No. No you're not." Her voice was breathless, weak, though she tried to fight it.

"So, do you like girls? Is that what goes on in Blue Rose?"

"What? No. Wait, what are you insinuating?" And just when she thought he might do something to further win her over, that he might show he too has some feeling for her, he goes back to being, well, himself-crude, condescending, and infuriating.

"Well, you're always like 'the battlefield is my lover,' or some shit like that, you insult every man you come across, and you surround yourself with girls, so... do you like girls?"

"I, um, that's not any of your business."

"OK, fine. I just, well, I guess we could just sit here and insult each other until someone finds us, or until we die. I just thought fucking might be more fun. But what do I know, I'm just a man."

"That's right, you are." Her body felt like it was on fire. After all the nights imagining his body pressed against hers, that her hands were his, exploring her flesh, he was just offering himself like it was a game, or something to do to pass the time. She wanted to be closer to him, but she dared not to move.

"And you hate men." He seemed closer than before. "Especially men like me, right? Boorish, crude."

She licked her lips. He sidled around the fire, until he was right next to her

"I don't hate you, Yami." She could barely get the words out over the pounding in her chest.

"I don't hate you either, Charlotte."

She forced herself to stare into the flames, but she could feel his eyes traveling over her. He was close enough that she could smell the scent of cigarettes and cheap booze on him, but she was more shocked by what she didn't smell. She didn't smell sweat, or the musty smell of man. Beneath it all, he smelled like her briars, or the forest. He smelled earthy like soil, and like the smoke from the fire. When she forced herself to look at him, he was staring at her.

She took a few deep breaths as they looked into each other's eyes.

"Do you, do you just want to do this because you're bored?" she stammered out, her voice soft and unsure.

"Well," he chuckled and looked away from her. She watched as he licked his lips. "There's only a handful of things I like to do when I'm bored. I like to drink." He looked back to her. "But I don't see any alcohol, do you?"

"No."

"I like to smoke and you crushed my last cigarette."

She winced at the memory of her action.

"Sorry?"

He waved his hand dismissively.

"I like to eat, but."

"No food."

"I could nap, but the ground is hard, and I don't think you would let me anyway. You'd probably go on about how I was a useless man for wanting to sleep."

She nodded, knowing it sounded like something she would say.

"So that just leaves one thing."

"Making love?"

"I said fucking, there's a difference."

"And what difference is that, exactly."

"Fucking's just fucking. You have to love the person you make love to. Fucking has no such requirement."

"I assume you think you're an expert on the matter?"

She could not help the roll of her eyes as he laughed.

"I might have been around the block once or twice."

"Ugh. Typical." She said in disgust.

"So tell me, Charlotte. Do you wanna fuck?" His voice was deep as the ocean, and as soft as the wind through the trees as he whispered in her ear.

He was so close now, she knew she could not hide the color that sprang to her cheeks. She swallowed hard, her eyes fixated on the fire as it slowly faded in on itself.

She had fallen for him long ago and she had hated herself for it. She felt a pang of desire every time she saw him, a desire she kept carefully hidden, lest anyone find out. And she hated herself doubly for it. She wanted him now, but her instinct was to fight the desire mounting within her. She hated herself for wanting him, and for denying herself.

She turned to him, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, her entire body quivering with anticipation. She licked her lips as she met his eyes and saw desire there. He was so close, inches away. And who knew when someone might find them. As he had said, they could die here. She pressed her lips against his.

He took a moment to recover from the suddenness of the kiss. He had never expected her to make the first move, but he smiled against her lips before kissing her back. He pulled her body into his lap, wrapping his arms and legs around her, holding her close and kissing, always kissing her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her ear.

She closed her eyes at every touch, every pressure of his lips against her skin. She had wanted him for so long, but every imagining she had of what his touch might be like was wrong, so very wrong. She had thought he would be rough, that his hands would be coarse against her skin, that he would be forceful. But he was a gentle as the brush of a rose petal as his lips danced against her flesh. His stubble was rough, but not any more so than the thorns on her briars. And she had taken far more cuts from them than his hands promised.

He tried to kiss her neck, but grunted in frustration as his attempt was thwarted by her armor. He pulled away from her, his fingers fumbling at her sides. He looked into her eyes, pleading and saw so much more than desire there. He kissed her again as she worked to unfasten the armor around her chest, this time slowly, deliberately, letting himself feel every inch of her desire, and honestly, his own as well. Once her metal shell clunked to the ground, his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close once more.

She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers into his skin and slipping her legs around his waist. She sucked in a breath as his hands slipped over her hips and under her buttocks. She thrilled at the pressure of his large hands against her, touching her, squeezing her, but she wanted more. She dragged her fingers over his chest and the thin white shirt he wore. She wanted to tear it from him, but she settled for yanking it over his head. Once he was free of it and the heavy cloth robe that covered one of his shoulders, she moaned as his lips found her throat. She could barely breath as he nibbled at the flesh where her neck met her shoulder. She pushed him backward, straddling his chest. His eyebrow shot up at the sudden display of dominance and his fingers scratched their way up her thighs before slipping beneath her shirt. She let out a shaky breath as his calloused fingers danced over her soft skin before exposing her skin to the cool air in the cave. His hands were so much bigger than she had imagined as they caressed her back, her breasts. His rough fingertips teased her nipples, making her gasp and moan as she pushed her hips down against his. She leaned over him as he shifted his hips beneath her, a wicked smile on his face.

She wanted him, and she didn't care anymore.

Not when she looked into his eyes and saw so much more than an alleviation of boredom there. She drew a finger down the side of his face and watched his eyelids flutter at the touch. She kissed him softly, gently, deliberately, only to feel him kiss her the same way in response. She looked at him, her hand caressing his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under her palm and she knew what she had meant when she said that she didn't hate him. And she knew that he had meant the same when he told her that he didn't hate her either.

She stood suddenly, looking down on his prone figure. What she saw in his eyes, she didn't dare say it was love, but it was something, and it drove her forward. She shed the rest of her clothing and stood before him, her body and soul completely bare. He propped himself up on an elbow as she knelt next to him. His fingers and eyes caressed her alabaster skin, sliding over her breasts, her belly, her thighs before returning to her face and head. He reached his hands into the elaborate braid that wrapped her hair out of the way in the most practical fashion. He nimbly loosened the time intensive hairstyle and then combed his fingers through the silky hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back. She leaned into his touch as he pulled her face back to his.

"You are so beautiful." his voice was awe-filled, a far cry from the oft bored tone he typically had. She felt the blush return as he kissed her again. He drew her down with him as he laid back. She straddled him once more, her fingers brushing through the wiry hair on his chest as she sat over him.

She hesitated a moment as she watched his face relax and his eyes slide closed. His hands brushed over her knees and her inner thighs, upward, ever upward, until he brushed her sex. She gasped. And he smiled. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she kissed him. She rose up onto her knees to reach him and his hands slid over her hips once more before disappearing from her.

When she sat back, she felt him, large, hard, and slick against her throbbing mound. She knew what to do, she wasn't that naive, but still she hesitated. Her thoughts went to her squad and what they might think if they knew, but it was a battle she had been fighting since she had met him, since he had saved her. This would only be one more layer to hide. She grasped him and slipped his member inside her. He released a shuddering breath as she engulfed him. She leaned forward once more, kissing him as she rocked her body against his, feeling a pleasure like nothing she had imagined as they made love.

Minutes turned to hours and days became seconds as he watched her take pleasure in his touch. Her body against his, surrounding his, brought him to the edge of madness far more quickly than he expected. The way her body moved against his, the utter joy in her face as she allowed wave after wave of desire and release break against her drove him crazy. As she collapsed against his chest, exhausted, he could lay there no longer. He wanted to be gentle, to keep her snowy skin free from damage as he rolled her onto her back and thrust deeply into her. She cried out and he winced. He pulled away from her, content to do as he had always done when she touched the hand that still gripped her thigh.

"Don't stop, Yami." Her chest heaved and her eyes were nearly black in the darkening cave. "Don't you dare stop."

He didn't want to.

He pulled her hips against his, bracing her legs against his chest. He kissed her ankles and watched as every cry, every gasp, every moan escaped her lips. He kept his eyes on her, memorizing the pitch of her voice when he hit just the right spot, the curve of her spine as she arched into him, the smell of her skin, her sweat, her sex. He wanted to remember every moment, every touch, forever, knowing he would likely never have the chance again. He filled her, he wanted to keep filling her, he wanted her to engulf him, to take his entire being into her.

A tiny piece of his mind, a minuscule part that was not obsessed with memorizing everything about her, whispered "Well, shit," as he fell forward over her.

She smiled up at him. Not the sardonic smile she gave him on occasion when he was being, well, himself and trying her patience, but one of happiness, contentment. He leaned in to kiss her smiling mouth and was met with a passion he had not expected. Her fingers twisted in his hair as he kissed her. She gasped as she came to release once more. He felt a shudder run through his body as she clamped down on him.

Not yet, he thought, trying to maintain control of his being. Not yet.

He felt a thread of mana appear and separate in the chamber, forming a portal of sorts a few feet away from where they lay coupled together. He raised his eyes as his mouth clamped down on her neck. She squealed in delight, the sound bringing him to the edge of his control. He locked eyes with his second as the spacial mage poked his head out. Finral looked around and quickly assessed the situation before disappearing. He wagered they had a few minutes, at most before they were discovered again, but then he realized he wasn't a very good gambler. He let the sounds she made as he thrust into her push him over the edge. He let himself lose control. He collapsed next to her, pulling her close to him as he dozed off. His eyes fluttered opened as she curled around him, nestling herself against his chest.

The sound of voices outside the rocky barrier blocking the exit woke her. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up and then panicked as the voices grew louder. She tried to stand, but his strong hands pulled her back down. She landed against his chest and looked into his sleeping face.

"Yami."

He seemed so peaceful, so innocent.

She tapped his cheek.

"Let's stay here, Charlotte. Just us." he muttered. Part of her wanted to scream yes and use her magic to hide them away forever, but the voices on the other side of the rocks were getting louder still.

"Yami, wake up." She squirmed her way out of his embrace and began hunting for her gear. She sighed in frustration as she tried to tame her loose hair enough so she could shove it back under her helmet. She managed to pull it back into a low ponytail before she tried to wake him again.

She leaned over and kissed him softly. She was curious about how much of their prior actions was her trying to prove... something, to him or to herself, and how much was grounded in real emotions. His hand pressed against her cheek, his thumb stroked her skin and he pulled her into another soft kiss. She could feel herself going under once more. She forced herself back on her heels. He turned and looked at her.

"They found us." She tried to keep her voice even, but even she could hear the panic rising in it. Being found like this would, simply, not do.

"So they have."

"Get dressed."

He looked at her for a long moment, challenging her, testing her resolve. She stared him down until he sighed and began to do as she wished. He had just fastened on his mantle when the stone wall broke through.

"Sis!" Sol, a subordinate from her squad called out as she burst into the chamber. "We were all so worried about you! It must have been awful being stuck in here... with him." Her tone was filled with a thinly veiled disgusted.

Charlotte Roselei-man-hater and Captain of the Blue Rose, looked over at the tall burly man who had long ago won her heart. Her skin grew warm at the memory of his touch. She chewed on her lower lip as they looked at each other.

"Yeah. It was terrible." Her voice was flatter than normal and she forced herself to look away. "Come, Sol. We should get back to headquarters." She hurried from the cave through the hole in the rubble. She hoped she hadn't looked too desperate to get away. Leaving took all of her willpower to overcome her desire to throw herself back into his arms.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her go. Finral came to his side and followed his captain's stare.

"So..."

"You mention this and I will kill you."

"Right."