"The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire." – Ferdinand Foch

Jazzy: This whole late-thing is really starting to become a usual thing, isn't it? Wow. I fail. Oh well, here's the next chappie! But the only way to find it is by using a metal-detector, a few sticks of dynamite, and an attack poodle with purple fur. (Grins) Hope you find it soon! Toodles!

Lexi: Oi! Lexi Teniro here. I'll be guest-writing the latter 1500 or so words of this chapter. Jazzy and I both had writer's block, so I suggested we switch fics for a chapter (you can read her guest writing in Morning Roses). Without further ado, onto the chapter!

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The Difference Between Love and Loathing – Chapter Thirteen: Tension

Nothing could have prepared her for a situation quite like the one she was currently in. No one had ever told her how to act or what to do or what to say. Hell, she didn't even know how to breathe correctly around him. Breathing was something that was normally very easily done; in and out, in and out, the rhythm was quite simple. When she was near him as she was now, however, she didn't know her ups from her downs, let alone the relatively uncomplicated concept of in and out.

He held her tightly to him as he firmly steered her towards the car, tight enough so if her legs did give out, he could catch her before she broke her skull on the pavement. Misao felt her cheeks redden at the very thought. It didn't help matters any when he silently draped his coat over her shoulders when she shivered – cold? Was she cold? – against him. He was just too warm, and it was just too chilly outside, what with the icy temperature and the never-ending stream of rain. She exerted her limited self-control to avoid snuggling into his side – no, she couldn't do that, it would be far too embarrassing, far too intimate, and far too, well, disturbing.

Her ankle throbbed in time with her steady heartbeats. The slow thrum of pain was furiously pushed to the recesses of her mind as she hobbled her way to her vehicle. There were far better things to concentrate on. In fact, she firmly believed that if she ignored the pain, it would go away. Misao-logic always worked, no matter what anyone else said.

Vaguely, she wondered how she had gotten into this mess in the first place. It was obviously Saito's fault. No, scratch that, it was the Akuma's fault. If the copycat murderer hadn't singled her out – after all, how many billions of other women were there in the world? – none of this would have happened. She would never have needed a bodyguard, she never would have met Saito, she never would have embarrassed herself by falling all over him on that night she refused to believe existed, she never would have gotten attacked by a group of deranged men, and she never would be where she was now, her ankle flaming, her body shuddering in the rain, and her cheeks bright red from his close proximity, depending solely on him to not drop her to the unforgiving ground.

Oh, and she probably wouldn't be feeling the strange emotions she was, to her horror, currently feeling. They were unnerving, to say the least, and she was starting to fear that she was beginning to accept them.

Frowning slightly, Misao hesitantly leaned less weight on Saito and more weight upon her bad ankle, and swore violently when her leg crumpled beneath her. She felt – with some measure of relief – Saito yank her back up to a standing position.

He chuckled wryly into her ear, causing her to shiver. "Language, weasel, language."

She snarled up at her rescuer, bristling at his condescending tone. "I can swear if I damn well want to, you lousy wolf!"

Rolling his eyes, Saito replied with a short, "Whatever" and continued dragging her along. Inwardly, she fumed. A long silence ensued, one that neither dared to break. Until Misao rudely cleared her throat, that is.

"Do you even realize how utterly stupid this whole thing is?"

Saito didn't bother to look down at her. "What, you getting into a fight with a bunch of brats, or you tripping in a little hole and twisting your ankle? The latter, I might add, is what is forcing me to carry you like a rag doll, weasel."

She smacked him on the arm. "Neither, you jerk! I meant this whole thing! As in, everything! Ever since that stupid day when I got that stupid note from the stupid Akuma, my life has slowly been on the fast track to hell! I mean, really, being stuck with you for over a week has been bad enough, but –"

He interrupted her with a growl. "Don't sound like such a martyr, Misao. These days haven't exactly been the best for me, either, but do you hear me complaining?"

"You have no idea! You're a cop, what would you know about normal people's lives, huh? While you were wallowing knee-deep in blood and death, did you ever once think about the life of the person you were unable to save from some sick psychopath? Did you? And the next dead person you cut upon and examine with careless eyes could very well be me!"

His lupine eyes narrowed fractionally, and she could see hardly controlled anger in their depths. "You haven't witnessed what I've witnessed, weasel. You will never be able to fathom what it's like to 'wallow knee-deep in blood and death', as you so beautifully put it. You haven't a clue as to what goes on in an investigation, do you? You don't know how deep a detective must go to uncover the truth. So many people get put in danger, so many innocents get lost along the way, and there is really nothing the police department can do except wait and hope that some sort of clue comes along and smacks them in the face."

She gaped at him for a moment, not having expected a serious answer to her taunt. Failing to find a response, she bit her lip and stared at the ground, focusing on her breathing. In and out…in and out…if she didn't think about him, or how warm he was, or how guilty she felt, she could cope fairly well. They were silent for the final few steps to the car. When he helped her into the front passenger seat, she barely managed a muttered thank you.

Rain pattered on the windshield in place of mindless chatter. Misao stared at the droplets running down her window, trying to see out but knowing there was nothing there but more rain. She morosely wondered if there was some sort of metaphor there about her life, but knew it wasn't true. If she looked hard enough past the rain, she knew there would be a rainbow there. There always was before, so there would be this time, too. Misao-logic strikes again.

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"H-hey, what are you doing?" Misao spluttered, wriggling violently as Saito slipped his arms under her to pick her up.

"There are steps," he stated by way of answer, carrying her up them to the front door. He stood patiently under the edge of the roof, just out of the rain, mentally smirking at the lovely shade of red the girl in his arms was.

She glared at him, roughly the color of a tomato. "What are you waiting for, numbskull? Get me inside and put me down!"

He allowed the smirk to slip out. "I'm afraid I can't do that, weasel."

Her eyes widened slightly, and her right eyebrow twitched. "What do you mean, you jerk?"

Slowly he lowered his lips to her ear, brushing gently along the lobe to whisper breathily into it. "Exactly what I said. I can't get you inside."

If it was possible for her to get any redder, it happened. "EH? Wh-what are you talking about?"

He smirked, holding back a chuckle. It was obvious that she was going to get very irritated when he told precisely what he WAS talking about. …Therefore, he should tell her as soon as possible. His warm breath caressed her ear and cheek, eliciting a little shiver from her before he pulled back to raise an eyebrow at her flushed face. "Why, weasel, isn't it obvious…? You have the only key…"

Misao's eyes widened again then set into a determined glare. "Hmph." She dug in her purse for a moment (not an easy task, considering her position), before dropping it sullenly into his open hand near her shoulder.

Saito chuckled lightly, shifting her weight so she was half-standing, and turned the key in the lock. He shoved the door open, growling lightly when it stuck from the humidity, and picked up Misao again to carry her in. He ignored her squeak of protest and took her to the soft couch in front of the TV, tossing her unceremoniously onto it. He dropped a blanket on top of her, making sure her head was covered (just to piss her off, of course).

He casually strolled back out of the room, ignoring her muffled cries.

"Hey! Where're you going?"

"To get your bags, weasel. Or would you prefer I leave them in the car?"

Her silence was plenty answer. Saito smiled to himself. "I thought so." He observed her with amusement as she threw off the wool and glared at him with as much anger as she could muster.

He chuckled again. "Don't be like that. Didn't I save you from thugs, carry your bags, and even carry you?"

Misao's irritation was palpable. She pointed a finger accusingly at him and narrowed her eyes. "One, I could've taken care of myself! Two, you complained the whole time, and three…three…" The finger dipped and trembled, as if searching for the last point. "Three…you're a bastard!"

Saito ducked the pillow she threw at him and made his way back to the car, laughing quietly the whole way.

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The girl waited for him to leave the room before snuggling into the blanket. She hated for him to see any kind of gratitude, and actually using something he gave her would probably count as "gratitude". She frowned and pulled the blanket closer around her.

Man, am I cold! That rain just soaked me to the skin…and that bastard freaking me out like that, with that…well, that didn't help any!

Desperate to distract herself, Misao grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. "Just daytime TV…" she muttered, flipping channels. Soap opera after soap opera met her eyes, each cornier than the last.

"I'm really…your wife's sister's mother-in-law!" a woman on the TV sobbed. Disgusted, Misao threw the remote at the power button with all her might, by some fluke actually turning it off. She sighed and leaned back on the couch, pulling off her shoes and dropping them to the floor. Cuddling into the blanket, she lay on her side and closed her eyes.

I'm not going to sleep. Just…rest a bit.

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When Saito reentered the room, he bit back a chuckle. The little weasel was spread out on the couch, clothes disheveled, mouth wide open and snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. He set down the bags carefully by the couch and went over to the sleeping girl. Cautiously, lest she attack him even in her sleep, he picked her up and winced when she latched onto his collar. Unwilling to carry her all the way to her bedroom, he set her down in a chair and started looking around the sofa for some sort of spring, hoping it had a pullout bed.

He was in luck. Sighing in relief, he pulled off the top cushions and tossed them behind the couch, pulling out the mattress from within. Not caring that it had no sheets on it, he picked up Misao again and moved her back onto the now-bed-like sofa. After placing her there, he moved to leave the room and was jerked back by a tight grip on his hair.

Somehow the little brat had gotten a fistful of his hair.

Nearly growling in irritation, he had no choice but to settle down next to her. It only got more uncomfortable when she cuddled up to him and rubbed her nose on his chest.

There were very few things that could get Saito Hajime to blush.

That was one of them.

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Aoshi was not particularly happy. He knew Misao must be hurting, yet it could not be helped. He stared at her front door a moment longer, soaking bangs plastered to his face, before sighing and turning away. His black trench coat dripped rain as he started down the sidewalk in the direction of the police station.

He had business that could not be delayed, and paying a visit to Misao counted as a "delay". However much of a relief it might be.

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Lexi: Well, there you have it. Only about six months late. HEH! Sorry, Jazzy and I have been WAAAAAAY busy with homework and I do plays and STUFF. But now you have the chapter! Hooray!

Jazzy: Thank you so much, Lexi-chan! Dude, guys, I'm horrible. (SWEAT DROP) Well, err, here's hoping that the next chappie is, eh-heh, a little faster in coming, eh? I'm also going to take the time to fix up all of my old chapters, as my writing has significantly improved since I wrote them. (SWEAT)

Until next time, my hopefully still faithful reviewers, this is Jazzy Reinier with guest Lexi Teniro (go read her ficcies, she rocks!), signing off!

"People only have hope…because they cannot see Death standing behind them."