Author's note:

First, standard fanfic disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or places named in the story, I'm not claiming to, and I wouldn't want to 'cause taking care of Hinata House would be a pain. Please don't sue the starving writer.

Second, this is based off of the Love Hina manga, not anime - I know some of the same things happen, but I've not seen the anime, so I'm working with what I have. The events discussed happen throughout the fifth volume of the manga.

Third, WARNING: SHOUJO-AI CONTENT. PG-13 RATING FOR SEXUALITY AND ADULT SITUATIONS. You've been duly warned, so don't bother flaming me. And now, on with the show!

Kitsune rolled over with her dark-haired lover beneath her, reveling in the feeling of the other girl's flesh against her own, trying not to smirk but utterly failing. She didn't care, and she didn't think her new lover did either.

"Told you," she said, her voice half laugh and half gasp. It was all she could do to keep from giggling madly. She wasn't sure how long they'd been in bed, but she was already in that wonderful state of being tired enough to sleep but giddy and thrilled enough to stay awake for at least another few hours.

"And I told you," the strong girl beneath her said, her voice only slightly less controlled than usual, "that I prefer to be on top."

Kitsune's lover rolled the two of them right off of the futon, her lips close enough for the light-haired girl to feel her hot breath on her neck. . . .

. . . and Kitsune felt her head hit the floor, jolting her out of her dream and leaving her feeling very, very cheated.

She blinked, her eyes bleary, then groaned and yanked the covers over herself as she realized that, once again, it had only been a dream. Maybe, she thought, she should drink less before going to bed. Maybe she should drink more. Or maybe she should get off her ass and actually say something about what she'd realized.

Kitsune muttered and rolled back onto her futon, glad it was still warm but wishing she wasn't the only one warming it. Then again, if it was any warmer, she'd start to sweat, and there wasn't much point in doing that alone. She stared up at the ceiling, and at the ring of beer bottles that sat atop the shelf that circled her room. She had to do something about this, she knew. Even a professional slacker like her could only put things off for so long.

She still wasn't sure if she could call herself a lesbian, or if she was just bi, or even if it was just some really intense kind of curiosity. She knew that she'd started feeling something for women at least as much as men before she came to Hinata, but living here had only made it worse. Even Keitaro, as cute as he was sometimes, couldn't change that. The real question was whether or not she was the only one here who felt the same way. Kitsune stretched a little, then flopped her arms down, and started counting. There was something a little reassuring about it, even if she was only making guesses.

"Let's see. . . ." she said quietly to herself, counting off on her fingers. "Shinobu? Probably not, she's already set herself up to be the perfect little homemaker. Naru? Nah. Keitaro's the only guy she's noticed since Seta, and we all know how that's turning out, but I never saw her even glance sideways when we were in the locker room in high school. Sarah? Has to hit puberty first. Haruka?" She paused. "I doubt it, but I don't think I wanna know either way. Su?" She laughed to herself, and blew a few stray hairs out of her face. "That's anybody's guess, though who knows what she and Motoko get up to when they're sharing a bedroom. Motoko. . . ."

Motoko . . . the only one of the Hinata House girls who'd actively disliked Keitaro when he first showed up. Sure, Naru had been on his case pretty hard, but that was because she thought he was just a pervert. Motoko . . . the only one of the Hinata House girls who said that she didn't like men. Kitsune knew that she could be jumping to conclusions on that one; not liking men didn't automatically mean liking women. But it was a start, and it was very, very hard to keep herself from wondering. It was also very hard to keep herself from thinking about the other girl, though she could never quite place what drew to her so much. Motoko was strong and yet soft at the same time, and so quick to blush despite how noble and unaffected she seemed sometimes. Kitsune giggled. Yes, Motoko was strong . . . and in good shape . . . probably could go quite a while without resting. . . .

Kitsune twisted her fingers around each other, then brought them down to her chest. She growled to herself. "Motoko," she said, grinning.

It was a while before she managed to get out of bed.

At some point afterward, the thought occurred to her: shouldn't she be sure about how she felt, one way or another, before she started in on someone else? Even if she did have her suspicions and doubts about Motoko - to say nothing of her hopes, wishes, desires, blatant lusts, and things that made her feel all squishy inside - it wouldn't do much good if she woke up with the girl only to realize it wasn't what she really wanted.

So, Kitsune thought as she pulled on her clothes, she'd have to find a test subject. Naturally, there was only one person who qualified for that. She snatched a few tissues from a box in her room and stuck them in her pocket, then slid open her bedroom door.

Kitsune looked up and down the hallway. The floor was shining clean; Keitaro must have been at it already this morning. She smirked. That would mean he'd be tired, so her little test would be easier. She glanced back and forth, then stepped out. "Hey, Keitaro! Landlord-person, where are you?"

That was strange, she thought. Usually there'd be at least one other person around to hear her. That was one of the things about Hinata; even if everyone was all in one place they seemed like they could be anywhere else at a moment's notice. She shrugged, and headed out, then stopped when she heard something clunking. Dashing toward the sound, she found Keitaro putting his cleaning supplies back into a closet next to the bathroom.

"Morning, Keitaro," she said, not bothering to try to sound innocent.

"Oh, good morning . . . Kitsune," Keitaro said, breathing heavily. He was sweating and looked tired, and his hands had a few band-aids on them. "I just heard Shinobu call for breakfast, you going?"

"Yeah," Kitsune said, stepping closer. "But I need your help with something." She leaned in close to him, and winked at him as he started to blush. "You gonna help me?"

"Um . . . Kitsune, what're you . . . I. . . ."

"That's a yes." She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall, then planted her lips on his. A few seconds later, after his first bit of struggling was over, she considered putting her tongue to use just to be sure, but she already had her answer, and pulled away.

"Nope," Kitsune said to herself as Keitaro collapsed to the floor. "Didn't feel a thing." She pulled the tissues out of her pocket and stuffed them up his nose, then headed to the dining room.

"Morning!" she called as she walked up to the table. Everyone else was already there, and she could tell that Shinobu had cooked, as usual. The only other person who might have made breakfast was Naru, and it looked too good to have been her work.

"Good morning, Kitsune," Shinobu said as Kitsune sat down. "Did you sleep well?"

Kitsune felt her face start to turn red again as the dream suddenly came back to her. "Really well," she said, starting to smile, "just not enough."

"Yeah, Keitaro pulled an all-nighter again last night," Naru said, sounding a bit put out. "Then he started cleaning first thing this morning. That idiot woke me up too."

Kitsune almost said something about what had really woken her up, but decided that some things just weren't best to talk about during breakfast. She figured that Keitaro's current condition, and why he was in it, fell into the same category.

"All the same, he is showing considerable discipline, to do so much on so little sleep," Motoko said, and raised her bowl to her mouth to finish off her rice. "If he can apply the same to his studies, then perhaps he'll actually achieve something."

"Hey, Motoko," Kitsune said as soon as the black-haired girl lowered her bowl, "you got a little rice right here." She flicked her tongue at the corner of her mouth.

Motoko paused, then wiped at the corner of her mouth with her finger. "I don't feel anything."

"Other side," Kitsune said, flicking her tongue farther out to the side and trying not to laugh.

Motoko wiped again, then looked at Kitsune, seeming slightly confused. "Are you sure? I still don't feel anything."

"Keep looking," Kitsune said, unable to keep herself from winking at Motoko. She looped her tongue out across her cheek as far as she could get it. "You're close, I swear!"

"You have a long tongue, Kitsune," Su said in between bananas. "Hey, can you do the cherry stem thingy?"

Kitsune laughed out loud, grinning at Su. "It's been a long time since I tried that. Hey, Naru, remember doing that back in high school?" The confused blink she got from Naru told her all that she needed to know. "This girl we knew had a bunch of 'em," she said, turning to the whole table, "and Naru spent the entire lunch period trying to get it right. I, of course," she said with her customary smirk, "got it on the first time."

"God, Kitsune, I can't believe you remember that!" Naru said loudly, sounding almost upset.

"What, you still mad that you couldn't get it?" Kitsune asked.

"Does that mean you're not a good kisser, Naru?" Su asked. Somehow, Kitsune thought, she sounded innocent. But just barely.

"How should I. . . ." Naru's face turned bright red, and she stood up so quickly she knocked her chair over. "I'm finished, thank you for the meal!" She ran off, and the sound of her clomping up the stairs came a moment later.

"I guess that's a yes," Kitsune said, watching Naru go. She looked back at the rest of her friends, still grinning. "So, how about the rest of you? Shinobu? Motoko?" She winked at Motoko. "Or should we just guess about that, since you didn't go after the rice with your--"

"I've no intention of trying something so ridiculous!" Motoko stood, though not as fast as Naru had. "Thank you for the meal, Shinobu. I have training to do." She stalked out of the dining room.

Kitsune watched her go, and couldn't help thinking that things just weren't looking good. She looked over at Su and Shinobu. The younger girl looked mildly traumatized - not that it was difficult, Kitsune thought - while Su just looked curious. "Hmm, maybe not," Kitsune said.

Later that day, Kitsune headed out to the deck area where Motoko usually practiced her sword work. She'd already had a few beers, the better to get her tongue loosened and to keep her from worrying. Not that she really worried, ever, but she'd felt like having the beers anyway.

She walked up the steps to the deck, a half-finished beer in one hand, doing her best to keep quiet. While surprising someone with a sword might not be the best idea, she liked the thought of catching Motoko off guard. People tended to be more honest when they were surprised, and honesty was important in relationship-type stuff, as she'd tried to tell Naru. Not that Naru had listened much, but Kitsune still thought the idea was a good one.

Motoko was, of course, hard at work and didn't notice the other woman. Kitsune leaned up against the deck railing and watched the kendo girl's form, her smooth movements and lithe figure. She reminded Kitsune of some kind of jungle cat, and she couldn't help wondering just what kind of beast was lurking beneath Motoko's calm facade. She could feel herself starting to blush, and knew a big happy grin was working its way onto her face. Hopefully she could pass it off and blame the beer.

As the black-haired girl finished the final moves of one of her katas and slid her sword back into its sheath, Kitsune applauded. Motoko actually jumped as she turned around, and looked very surprised to see Kitsune standing there. Her hand was still on her sword, and she started to pull it out, then slid the blade back down.

"What," Kitsune said with a grin, "you think I was Keitaro or something?"

"He's more likely to sneak up on me than you are," Motoko said, not taking her hand off of her sword. "You've never come up to watch me before."

"Something about a girl with a sword," Kitsune said, trying to sound a little playful but not too much, so she didn't scare Motoko off again. She took a sip of her beer. "You know," she continued, starting to walk toward the other girl, "it's kinda masculine but kinda not?"

She started to walk around Motoko, looking at her from all angles as the kendo girl stood there looking almost nervous. It was all Kitsune could do to keep herself from giggling. This was just too much fun, even if nothing came of it. She almost patted Motoko's ass as she went by, but managed to restrain herself.

"We've . . . been over this," Motoko said hesitantly. "You were there. A woman who is unfeminine, balanced by a man who is unmasculine." She paused, and gave Kitsune a questioning look as she walked in front of her. "Where is Urashima, anyway? He wasn't at breakfast this morning."

"Eh, he probably knocked himself out from cleaning and studying, you know how he is," Kitsune said quickly. "But why the concern?" She leaned a little closer, just enough to make Motoko start to lean back. She could smell the other girl's sweat. "I thought you didn't like him."

"That doesn't mean I don't want him to pass his exams," Motoko said quickly, then visibly relaxed as Kitsune leaned back. "He's proven that he's not completely worthless, but if he can't apply himself - Kitsune, what are you doing?"

Kitsune stroked the tips of her fingers over the smooth wood of Motoko's sword's handle, turning to stand next to the other girl and still trying hard not to laugh. "But you still don't like him much," Kitsune said, acting like she hadn't heard Motoko's question. "Or do you just not like men in general, like you've said?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Motoko said, her voice carefully controlled. She started to step away from Kitsune, but was stopped when the other woman wrapped her hand around the sword's grip.

"What," Kitsune said playfully, "you don't want me touching your sword?"

She let go of the sword and stepped back, then downed the rest of her beer. Motoko was visibly blushing. Kitsune wondered for a moment if she'd gone a little too far, and stepped back to the railing again. Motoko didn't move, but watched Kitsune the whole way.

"Kitsune," the dark-haired girl said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Just how much have you had to drink this morning?"

Kitsune raised the can she held to her eye, shook it, then shrugged. "Not enough to make me do something I shouldn't, I hope," she said, then headed down the stairs and back to the house.

Once she was out of Motoko's sight, Kitsune hurried back to her room and shut the door. She held it in for just a second, then burst out laughing so hard that she collapsed to the floor. Sure, she might have gone a little too far, but she still hadn't done anything blatant. If she'd started touching Motoko's flat stomach or her strong arms or. . . .

"I'm gonna drive myself crazy," Kitsune whispered to herself. "But I can't help it. And she didn't start trying to kill me like she does with Keitaro, so maybe, just maybe. . . ." She started laughing again, and couldn't help considering all the wonderful possibilities.

Motoko waded through the open-air bath and found a place to sit down, then splashed the warm water on her face, washing away the last few traces of sweat but not the questions that were spinning through her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep herself from thinking about Kitsune's odd behavior less than an hour ago. The other woman had always been somewhat inscrutable to Motoko - she seemed set on indulging in nothing but the pleasures of life, no matter what they may be or what shape they would leave her in. Motoko had to admit to herself, she'd scoffed at Kitsune's lack of discipline but couldn't help noticing that she seemed to enjoy herself a great deal.

"Is that all she was doing?" Motoko said quietly to herself. "Finding another way to enjoy herself, at my expense?"

After a moment's thought, Motoko shook her head. Kitsune might be lazy, a lush, and a host of other things besides, but she was a good person despite all that. Perhaps even because of all that. Not everyone could be a warrior, and it was probably for the best that Kitsune did not try to follow that path; Motoko couldn't hold her to that.

She then realized the line of thought was leading her absolutely nowhere. She headed over to the edge of the bath, and dumped a bucket of colder water over her head, hoping to clear it. The water had some of the desired effect, and Motoko sat down again.

Kitsune had come to watch her practice, as she never had before. That in itself was a surprise, but it could mean many things - for all she knew, Kitsune could have just been bored. She didn't seem bored, though. If anything, she seemed very, very interested. Motoko felt herself starting to blush at the implications, and quickly moved on.

She remembered the look on Kitsune's face, that gleam in her eyes, and tried to think of the last time she'd seen it. There had been a moment, she was sure of it, but why couldn't she think of when it had happened? She leaned back against the rock and stared up at the sky and the roof of Hinata House, trying to remember.

A sudden movement at one of the house's raised decks caught her eye, and she reached for her towel and her sword, wondering if it was Urashima again. To her slight relief, she saw that it was only Shinobu with the laundry. She seemed to have a heavier load than usual today, and Motoko watched to see what it was. Shinobu started pulling out some silken robes with prints on them, and hung them on the line. Motoko nodded to herself. The yukata were Haruka's, but she still found a use for them from time to time-

Motoko's eyes widened as she gasped. She remembered wearing a yukata for the summer festival at the beach, when she and the others had been working at Haruka's beach café. Kitsune had been there, of course, and she had said the oddest things - telling Motoko that the yukata looked very nice on her, and that she was supposed to be going naked underneath it . . . even going so far as to say "That's my little traditional girl." Motoko had passed it off as Kitsune being Kitsune at the time, but now. . . .

She drew back against the rocks, clutching her towel to her chest as she tried to breathe evenly. How could she have forgotten that? Kitsune had that look in her eyes even then, that vaguely lascivious glaze, hinting that she . . . that she. . . .

"Did she mean that?" Motoko whispered, unable to keep herself from putting words to her thoughts. "Could she actually be serious? And. . . ." She felt her face growing warm. "And why am I blushing?"

She'd blushed then too, she remembered. Kitsune had been tugging gently on the shoulder of her yukata, almost as though she wanted to see more . . . to see what was under it, to see if Motoko had still wrapped her breasts beneath it. . . .

There were other times, now that she thought about it. Shortly after they'd arrived at the beach, Kitsune had been just short of insistent about putting some lotion on her back. And only a day after that, when Urashima's friends had showed up at the café, Kitsune had encouraged her not to worry about it as they all drank . . . had Kitsune been trying to get her to relax, or had there been something else on her mind?

Motoko paused, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. That, she thought, was out of line. Kitsune was wild in her own way, but wouldn't have been trying to get her drunk if she'd had other plans. The other woman was direct enough that she would come out and say something if she wanted to. At least, that was what Motoko hoped would happen in this case. Until then, she would have to do her best to not make assumptions, to wait and see what happened.

She had to admit, though, she felt herself filling with an odd sort of anticipation at wondering just what Kitsune would or wouldn't say. How long had it been since someone had shown any interest in her, even the slightest bit? Such romantic wonderings were better left to others, as they were not the way of the warrior, but if she was right about Kitsune, Motoko couldn't help feeling a bit . . . flattered, perhaps?

Or, she thought before she had a chance to realize what she was thinking, perhaps a little interested?

Motoko sat there, up to nearly her chin in the water, staring at nothing, dumbfounded at the possibility. She had to ask herself if it could be true. She had to be honest with herself. Was that why she'd always wanted to throw herself into her swordwork and the warrior's way of life, because somehow she knew she'd never want to be with a man? Was that why she didn't care if she was feminine or not, even if Kitsune had been one of the ones to note that she was becoming more like that?

She paused again, and reminded herself to be rational. She could be overreacting; she knew that she tended to do that when confronted emotionally. What she needed to do was find a quiet place and think on this. By knowing herself better, and seeking her answers for herself, within herself, she would know her truth. She nodded to herself. She would finish her bath, then return to her room to meditate. It was a good plan; it was a sensible plan.

It was a plan that went right out the window when she saw Kitsune coming out of the washing room wrapped in a towel.

Motoko ducked her head under the water to hide her blush. This just couldn't happen right now. Having to confront someone about all kinds of things that were still just possibilities less than a minute after realizing them wasn't going to help at all. She had to get out of here, quickly, without looking suspicious. Hopefully that wouldn't be difficult.

She lifted her head out of the water, trying to look like she'd been rinsing her hair, and glanced over at Kitsune. The other woman was leaning back against the rocks and had already shed her towel. Motoko frowned. This was going to be more difficult than she had thought.

"Aaaahh. . . ." Kitsune basked in the sun, and grinned in Motoko's general direction. "Nothing like a midmorning bath," she said.

"You say that about nearly every bath you take," Motoko said, sounding harsher than she meant to. She wasn't sure if Kitsune even noticed, though - the other woman had something of a glaze in her eyes, as she had earlier that day. Motoko half-hoped it was alcohol.

"Only 'cause it's true," Kitsune said casually. She cocked her head at Motoko. "Can't tell me you don't like it."

"Of course not," Motoko said quickly. Some part of her mind fluttered with possible other meanings Kitsune could have had with that statement, especially the way she was posing, with her shoulders thrown back and her legs stretched out and her-

"How long you been in here, Motoko?" Kitsune asked. "You're turning red, y'know."

"I suppose it has been too long," Motoko said quietly, then reached for her towel. She heard Kitsune say something almost under her breath, something that sounded like "you're telling me," but she wasn't sure if she'd been meant to hear it or not. After wrapping her towel around herself, she stood, and started toward the washing room.

Of course, she had to walk past Kitsune to get there, and the other woman's legs were stretched out across her path. She started to step over them, then felt Kitsune's calf rub against her own as she shifted. Motoko felt a shiver run up her spine, and barely stifled a gasp. She couldn't remember feeling that at any other time in her life.

She didn't realize that she'd stopped until she felt Kitsune's leg nudge her own again. "Motoko . . . you all right?" Kitsune asked.

Motoko looked down at her to see the now-familiar glaze in Kitsune's eyes. It wasn't alcohol, she was sure of that by now. She'd looked just the same back at the summer festival.

It was rare that she found herself unsure of what to do, but for the life of her, Motoko couldn't keep herself from freezing. Her mind tried to pull her in several different directions at once - she wanted to run, to go up to her room and think, to confront what she might be feeling right here and now, to reject Kitsune for making her question herself like this.

She managed to pull herself together before she did something foolish, and simply nodded nervously at Kitsune. "I - I'm fine," she stammered. "Excuse me."

Motoko hurried up to her room and tried to meditate, but found that all she could think of was what had happened so far that day. She kept replaying Kitsune's actions on the deck and in the bath, examining them from every possible angle and interpretation, analyzing each word and movement in hopes of drawing some kind of conclusion. When she finally opened her eyes and sighed in frustration, she had to face her realization.

Unless Kitsune was playing some kind of game, the other woman had some kind of interest in her. And no matter how hard she tried, Motoko couldn't deny that there was at least a spark of the same within herself.

So, a naggingly persistent voice in her mind asked, why try so hard to deny it?

Kitsune sat on the roof of Hinata House, staring out at the sunset, three days drunk.

No, she thought, that wasn't quite right. She hadn't been completely drunk over the past three days. Just mostly, or at the very least, constantly buzzed. She hadn't wanted to do much else but drink.

Three days ago, she'd been stupid enough to start hitting on Motoko like . . . well, like some kind of drunken horny old man. She was surprised Motoko hadn't attacked her, especially afterward, when she'd found her in the bath. Kitsune had to hold herself back to keep from smacking herself on the forehead for displaying herself like that.

"Sure," she said to herself, "it worked with every guy I thought was cute, why wouldn't it work on Motoko?" She groaned, and held her head in her hands. "Just 'cause she's a little not-so-feminine doesn't mean she's going to start drooling over me!"

She heaved a sigh, then realized she'd said that last part out loud. She should really know better, she thought; for all she knew, Su had some kind of remote microphone that would just happen to be going by when she was drunkenly baring her heart and soul up on the roof. After a moment, she downed the rest of the beer she held and sighed again, supposing it didn't matter.

If anything, having someone else hear her would only make everyone sure about what they were probably already guessing. To say there'd been odd behavior from Motoko, especially around Kitsune, for the past few days would be like saying Naru thwacked Keitaro every once in a while. The black-haired girl had turned red every time she saw Kitsune, eaten very quickly at meals and excused herself as quickly as she could, and had generally been avoiding her ever since they'd been in the bath together. Hell, even Keitaro must have noticed something going on, even if it didn't involve Naru and wasn't part of his studying. Kitsune had done her best to make like nothing was bothering her, but. . . .

She had to be honest with herself. She kept encouraging Naru to do that, and if she couldn't do the same for herself, then what good was it? More than that, she had to be honest with Motoko. She knew the other girl well enough; Motoko always spoke up if she really had a problem with something. For Motoko to just be avoiding her, she was probably unsure of what she'd meant, and wanted to ask. . . .

Kitsune let the thought trail off, and stared out across Hinata, wondering if what she'd just realized could really be true or if it was just the alcohol. But could it be? Could it be that Motoko was avoiding Kitsune, and not talking to her, and . . . and blushing all the time, because she wasn't sure herself?

She started to giggle madly. Could she have been right all this time?

"Oh, wow," Kitsune said to herself, feeling her cheeks starting to turn red. "I have to find out about this."

She made her way down off of the roof - slowly, of course - and stopped by her room for one more beer, both for courage and just in case it really was the alcohol that was making her think she might be right. That, and she could always blame her actions on the booze if things went badly.

Once she was sufficiently re-buzzed (and a good part of the way towards plastered, though she'd deny it to the end), she started stalking through the halls of Hinata, searching out the dark-haired girl. "Hey, Motoko! Where are you?" She hiccuped, then covered her mouth and grinned. "I gotta ask you about deaths . . . little ones. . . ."

Keitaro came around the corner, holding a small book in front of himself and reading as he walked. He stopped before he ran into Kitsune, which was something of a surprise. She guessed she must be moving slower after drinking so much.

"Oh! Hey, Kitsune." His face turned bright red, of course. She realized that she still hadn't explained why she'd kissed him three days ago. Not that it mattered, she thought; it wasn't like he was going to bring it up.

"Yeah, Keitaro," she said, "I got a little favor you could do for me. . . ."

"Umm . . . are you sure? You seem kind of drunk." He started to back away, and she let him. This couldn't take long, she might lose her nerve, or worse, her buzz.

"I'm sure," she said. She winked at him. "You seen Motoko recently? Any idea where she is right now?"

Somehow, Keitaro managed to look even more surprised. "I think I saw her out on the deck, practicing like she always does after dinner," he said. "She should still be there."

"Thanks," Kitsune said with what she knew was a big stupid grin. "I owe ya." She dashed off, managing not to stumble around a corner, and headed for the next floor down, where she could get to the deck.

By the time she got there, she was starting to breathe hard, and had to lean against the rail to keep her balance. Her head was starting to spin, and she held one hand to it. "Must remember," she said to herself. "Running around like this . . . don't do that again." She looked up the short flight of stairs that led to the deck, and sighed. Motoko was there, of course.

She watched the warrior woman as she went through her katas, her sword flashing orange and red in the light from the setting sun, every movement controlled and precise. Kitsune could see the sweat on her forehead, and the sunlight was almost enough to make her white top just lit-up enough to see through. Almost, Kitsune thought. She knew Motoko would be all wrapped up under there, as usual, instead of letting herself. . . .

"Dammit," Kitsune said quietly to herself, "just go up there and do it."

She clomped up the steps, making no secret that she was there. When she reached the deck, Motoko was looking at her. She leaned up against the railing, and tried really hard to look casual. She didn't think it was working very well.

"Kitsune," Motoko said, polite but a little formal.

"Motoko," Kitsune said. She pushed off of the rail, and slowly started to walk toward the other girl. "Look . . . I gotta talk to you."

"Shouldn't this wait until you're more sober?" Motoko asked, raising one eyebrow. She slid her sword back into its sheath and set it aside.

Kitsune stopped for a moment, and just stared at Motoko, standing there with the sun setting behind her, all strong and controlled and sexy and. . . . "I don't know how to say this, really," she began, then swallowed hard. She paused. "Hey, you remember that time, back at the beach café, when I was tugging on your yukata and saying you were supposed to be naked underneath it?"

"Of course I remember," Motoko said quickly.

"Yeah, you do," Kitsune said with a giggle. "You're turning as red as your pants."

Motoko turned away from her. "Why are you bringing that up?"

"Because the next thing you asked," Kitsune said, slowly walking until she was only a few feet away from Motoko, "was if I had . . . you know. . . ."

"Other-teamly tendencies," Motoko finished. Kitsune thought she heard a little bit of a quiver in the dark-haired girl's voice. She started to turn around.

"Right," Kitsune said, trying to keep the slur out of her voice. She didn't want to mess this up, she couldn't; she had to be careful or Motoko could end up hating her. . . .

Kitsune took one more step, caught her toe on a knothole in the boards, and fell forward into Motoko. For a second, she thought she was going to pull a Keitaro and plant her face right between the other girl's breasts, but her knees hit first, and she ended up clutching Motoko around her middle.

"You know," Kitsune said, looking up at Motoko and winking, "you're pretty soft for a kendo girl." She then slumped down and passed out.

When Kitsune woke up, she was staring at the stars, and her head was pillowed on something soft yet firm. Her head was also spinning, and she regretted having that last beer before coming here, as well as the two or three before it. She blinked a few times, then realized there was an arm draped across her shoulders, laying above her breasts. Following the arm up, she saw that - thankfully - it was Motoko's. The kendo girl was kneeling, with Kitsune's head resting on her thighs. She was looking up at the stars as well, but looked down at Kitsune as she stirred.

"Motoko. . . ." Kitsune mumbled. She put her own hand over the dark-haired girl's, and frowned. "I'm sorry. I screwed that up."

Motoko said nothing for a moment, then looked up at the sky again. "No," she said quietly. "I think that was the only way you could have done it."

Kitsune couldn't help giggling. "Look," she said, figuring there wasn't a better time to be out with it, "I don't know what's going on with me. But I know I've been looking at you" - she squeezed the other girl's hand - "for a long time."

"I know," Motoko said with a nod, and looked down at Kitsune again. "I'm sorry, but that's why I've been avoiding you for the past few days."

"That's kinda what I thought." Kitsune looked away, then turned her head the other way after realizing she'd nearly put her face into Motoko's crotch. "I'm sorry about that. I was just thinking about you, y'know? It was making me feel all squishy inside. But if that's not okay with you, then. . . ."

Motoko didn't say anything for a long moment, but when she sighed, Kitsune couldn't help looking back up at her. She was surprised to see the look on the girl's face . . . there was confusion there, but also something she hadn't expected but had come to truly like about Motoko: determination.

"I, also, don't know what's going on with me," Motoko began. "I'm not sure how I feel. It's not something I've given a lot of thought to; my training has always been most important to me."

"I know," Kitsune said. "I really like that. It's just . . . you, I guess."

"It is," Motoko said with a small smile. "But in this . . . I don't know myself. But I want to know. And you make me think that . . . perhaps, you may be right."

Kitsune blinked. "What?"

"Why do you think," Motoko said quietly, her cheeks turning red, "I started to blush, back then at the festival? I'm not used to anyone's affections, but you . . . bring it out of me, I suppose."

"Awww. . . ." Kitsune raised her free hand, and cupped the side of Motoko's face, feeling the heat of her blush. "Maybe," she said, slowly starting to sit up, but not letting go of Motoko's face or hand, "if we both don't know, we should find out, y'know?"

"Maybe," Motoko said. She took a deep breath. "I should know myself." She paused, then, to Kitsune's surprise, she started to laugh quietly. "That sounds so silly to me, with all of this." She hadn't moved away from Kitsune's touch.

"Then maybe," Kitsune said, emphasizing the last word with a slow wink, "you should just shut up and kiss me?"

She slowly brought Motoko's face closer to her own. Somewhere along the way, Motoko freed her other hand, and started to wrap it around Kitsune's shoulders. She wasn't sure who pulled who to whom, but when she felt Motoko's soft lips on her own, she stopped caring. A warm rush swept through her entire body, and she let her hand trace across Motoko's face to slide into her hair, then pressed herself against the other girl.

It wasn't like anyone else she'd kissed, any boy she'd liked and had tried to chase. There was something soft and comforting about the kiss, something oddly fulfilling and somehow . . . right. She wasn't sure how long they held it, but when they did pull away, it was done slowly and with a small sense of regret.

They sat under the stars and looked at each other, neither saying a word, both blushing. After a long moment of silence, Kitsune started to grin again, not caring how dopey it looked.

"Well?" she asked, winking again.

Motoko swallowed hard. "I'm not sure," she said, then gave a small smile as Kitsune's eyes opened wide. "We'd better try again. To be sure."

It was a while before they left the deck that night.

Kitsune woke up with the sun in her eyes, and started to mutter. How had she forgotten to close that shade? She started to roll over, then felt something warm and soft next to her, something firm yet yielding. Oh, she thought, feeling her face grow warm. That was how.

It had been difficult to leave the deck, but once they had managed that, what came next had felt natural for them both. Spending the night together, Motoko had said, would help them to know for sure. Kitsune wouldn't have argued no matter what the reasoning, but she'd agreed - a little reluctantly, she had to admit - when Motoko had made it clear that for now, she wanted to do nothing more than share a futon. She had showed up at Kitsune's door, looking slightly sad, but explained that as feeling awkward at having to tell Su that she needed to find another place to sleep. They both had felt a little nervous as they lay down, but it hadn't lasted long.

Her face warm with memories of last night, Kitsune looked over at the other girl. Motoko looked so incredibly angelic as she slept. It wasn't as though she no longer looked like the warrior she tried to be - Kitsune didn't think anything could change that about her. But she seemed at peace now, like nothing could bother her and everything she'd been questioning didn't matter. Kitsune gently brushed a few strands of black hair away from her face. Everything they'd been questioning. . . .

There weren't any more questions in her own mind, Kitsune knew. Spending the night with Motoko, whispered talks and gentle kisses and light touches and not-so-gentle kisses. . . . They hadn't done any more than that, but somehow it had been more fulfilling than anything else she'd done. There had to be more eventually, she thought. She'd go nuts otherwise. But for now, she was content.

She was also awake. As nice as watching Motoko sleep was, it wasn't very exciting. After pondering various ways of waking her up and thinking about how much she would like them if they were used on her (a lot, she knew, but her instincts told her to move more slowly on this one), she decided to stick with the classics.

Kitsune scooted a little closer to Motoko, and leaned in close to the sleeping girl's face. She took a deep breath, stifled a giggle, and pressed their lips together in a kiss.

It was a moment before Motoko reacted, and Kitsune was about to start using her tongue, but she felt the other girl stir, and a stifled moan came from Motoko's throat. Motoko pulled away for just a moment, and gave Kitsune a surprised look as she caught her breath.

"Morning," Kitsune said, quietly but cheerfully.

"Good morning," Motoko whispered, a dreamy look in her eyes. She blinked once, then reached for the back of Kitsune's neck, and pulled her in for another kiss.

By the time Motoko's leg was draped over her own, Kitsune had to admit that she was surprised. She hadn't figured on Motoko being this passionate; she had always seemed so reserved. It's always the quiet ones, she thought. When they finally ended the kiss and separated - only a little - Kitsune grinned widely.

"So," she asked, "are you sure?"

Motoko blinked slowly, and didn't say anything, but pulled Kitsune close, holding her head to her chest. Kitsune sighed happily and threw one arm over Motoko, guessing that was enough of an answer for now. She also guessed that Motoko didn't sleep bound up, and wondered how long it'd take to talk her into making a habit of going around like that all the time.

"I am sure," Motoko said, stroking her hand over Kitsune's light brown hair. "I think . . . I've wanted to wake up like this for a long time. It feels like I should have started this years ago."

With a little regret, Kitsune scooted up until her head was on the pillow again, so she could see Motoko's face. "It does feel good, doesn't it?" she asked. "It feels . . . right, I guess. I don't know. You're supposed to be the eloquent one."

"Perhaps," Motoko said with a smile. She sighed. "What should we tell the others? Su already looked upset when I told her she couldn't share my bedroom last night."

Kitsune shrugged. "She'll be okay, she'll find someone else to latch onto for nights. As for everyone else. . . ." She rolled onto her back, stretching a bit. "Eh, screw 'em. I'm not hiding this."

"I thought as much." Motoko sat up a little, then looked down at Kitsune. Her face was starting to turn red.

"Motoko. . . ." Kitsune winked at her. "You're cute when you're blushing."

Motoko turned away for a moment. Then, before Kitsune knew what was happening, she threw the cover off of the futon, twisted herself around, and flung one leg over Kitsune, straddling her. She leaned down over Kitsune, one hand on the pillow next to her head, her black hair falling down around the two of them.

Kitsune's eyes widened. She had to admit, she almost hadn't thought the kendo girl had it in her. But the look in her eyes, the feelings there, and the feel of their bodies against each other . . . she liked it. A lot. She started to lift herself up, to run her hands up Motoko's sides. . . .

"Hey, Kitsune, are you--"

The two of them looked over at the sound of Naru's voice and the door sliding open. Her mouth was likewise open, and she stood there, utterly stunned. For a moment, none of them moved.

"Heyas, Naru! I can't find Motoko, you seen her?"

Su's head whipped around the corner of the door, and she peered into the room. If she noticed the frozen Naru, she didn't show it, but she definitely noticed Kitsune and Motoko.

"Ooooooh. . . ." She grinned widely. "Kinky." Su tugged on Naru's arm, managing to get her away from the door. She kicked it closed as they walked away, and the last thing the two women in the room heard was "Hey, Naru, can I stay in your room tonight?"

"Well, that solves that problem," Kitsune said as soon as they were gone. "Everyone will know now." She looked up at Motoko again and grinned. "I don't mind, do you?"

"No," Motoko said simply, "I don't."

Motoko leaned down for another kiss, surrounding Kitsune in waves of black hair. Kitsune pulled her close, making it a point not to let either of them start to roll. If this was a dream, she really didn't want to wake up.