Mus musculus

9/16/o7 sun.

Sometimes, he really didn't know what to do with himself.

When Phoenix was gone – out on the town or practicing for priestesshood, Arca would usually find himself moping around the tavy, and nursing some alcoholic beverage of some kind. He sighed heavily every five to ten minutes, and kept giving the entrance a longing gaze.

There weren't any costumers to attend to, seeing as how no one who owned the tavern was present. Trace was scrubbing things in the kitchen... Marsuro was up in his room (thank gods) doing who knows what... and Kiata and Satna were probably frolicking in the upstairs hall, or commencing licking of another kind... The three holy females of the group were out doing something or other... He hadn't really been paying much attention to Phoenix while she explained her soon to be absence, and instead concentrated on how the small of her bare back looked so sexy. She was changing clothes at the time, and therefore, left any and all words she said invalid.

She had been ravaged shortly after, but that was besides the point...

Finding that the empty bar room was too large and lonely without a mass of people to crowd it, Arca decided to venture upstairs and into the bedroom. He passed by the lesbian couple on his way, making sure to mind their hazardous frolicking. He flopped down on the bed, sighing to himself drearily as silence encompassed him.

No giggling from Phoenix. No moaning from Phoenix. No angry, tyrannical rants from Phoenix. No Phoenix at all...

The only thing he had left to comfort him at all was her smell. He shifted sideways and grabbed her pillow, burying his face into its softness. He inhaled deeply, savoring the imbedded scent of his lover. Nuzzling his nose into the fabric, Arca sighed in contentment. He knew her scent wouldn't keep him satisfied for long. Soon, he would need to feel her and see her. To hear her and taste her. But for now, this temporary substitute would do.

Pulling the pillow closer to him, Arca felt a sudden oddity in his world of pseudo bliss. Picking up her pillow, the Nymf found said oddity in the form of a folded piece of paper. His name was scrawled on one side of it, in semi sloppy and yet somehow neat handwriting.

Sitting up and pulling the pillow onto his lap, Arca grabbed the offending paper and unfolded it to find a letter written on the inside.

Hey Koi, I know you're probably drinking your ale right now, and you'll find this when you're drunk, but that's ok. I think... I know you weren't paying too much attention to me when I was explaining my training, so I decided to write this for you. I'll be back late tonight, like probably around midnight, or even one at the latest. Try not to beat Trace or Marsuro up while I'm gone, ok? And don't let Kiata and Satna in our room, even for one minute. I don't trust them and their crafty, lesbian ways... -_- I love you, and I'll be thinking of you the whole day. Bai Kosh! 3~

P.S.: Try not to be drunk/have a hangover by the time I get back, ok?

Arca blinked at the words written in the letter. A letter written by Phoenix. For him. Parts of her letter made sense. However, he was unsure as to whether or not he could not punch either one of those bitches in the face. If anyone dare touch his ale...

Speaking of ale, Arca glanced over at the tankard he had brought up with him. It was empty, all of its contents swishing around in his belly, and he wasn't certain if he could honor Phoenix's last wish.

Not be drunk by the time she gets back...? That could be a hard one...

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It blared 5:57 PM into his mind with bright red numbers. If she would be home around midnight, then he had at least six hours to himself. To spend by his lonesome...

To avoid getting drunk, he just decided to say fuck it, and take a nap. As he fell on his side, Phoenix's pillow being clutched tightly against his body, he noticed the slight warping of the dimensions of the room. And for some reason, the bed felt as though it were tilting...

Perhaps he was already slightly tipsy, more so than he realized.

Just slightly...

---

He woke up to a dark room and a stiff neck. As he sat up, still holding his fiancee's pillow and now rubbing the crick in his neck, Arca's mind slowly took in the realization that the bedroom door was open and a silhouette stood in the door way.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Her voice.

He was up immediately and she was in his arms before he was even fully awake. He pulled her body against his tightly, and in the back of his mind, he was sure this was uncomfortable for her, but he had missed her so.

Phoenix, who remained confused, simply stood there as her lover was attempting to bear hug her to death, while her travel bags still hung off her arms.

While his charge was attempting to find release from his powerful embrace, Arca turned his head and latched his lips onto her neck. She, in turn, blushed and "Gah!"ed in embarrassment.

Down the hall, Miaka and Trace stood outside their own bedroom, staring at the odd couple. Miaka then turned towards the smoker and asked "How come you never greet me like that?"

Trace sighed in his dramatic, 'I'm being stressed' way, and began with his usual crap. He slung his arm over the youngest twin's shoulders, guiding her into the bedroom as he spoke. "Mia, Darling, it's not that I won't... It's that I can't. You see, being raised by an Indian elephant and a snake charmer at one point, they taught me to never–" The door shut behind them, thankfully drowning out the rest of Trace's autobiography.

"A-arca, maybe we should go to bed, ne?" Phoenix questioned, used to her rurouni's strangeness, and instead trying to back him into the room.

He never released her, so she had to find a way to close the door, drop her luggage, kick off her shoes and get out of her pants, while this huge beast of a man leaned against her the whole time. It made the tasks a lot more difficult, needless to say.

When she finally managed to get them both into bed, she was so dead tired that she just wanted to fall asleep for the rest of the day. Her fiancee, apparently, wouldn't have any of that.

"I read your letter."

"Mmm."

"I'm sorry to say, but I think I still might be a little tipsy from this evening..."

"It's okay..." She yawned loudly, and reached up to pet his hair gently. He began purring slightly against her chest. "Let's just go to sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight, Aiko."

"Night night, Koishii."

He pulled her against him one last time, just to make sure that there was absolutely no space left in between them, and sighed deeply. But before he would allow himself to fall asleep, there was just one thing he needed to do...

Without getting up, Arca reached behind him blindly until he found the familiar softness that had comforted him so in his lover's absence. He pulled Phoenix's pillow up against his back, and then nuzzled her chest.

Now, in between the priestess's fluffy sub and the real thing, he was truly content. Her fingers were still threaded in his hair, and her steady breathing against his brow assured him that she was deep asleep. Sliding his arm across her waist, he yawned and allowed slumber to come to him.

She was here with him now, and when he woke, she would still be here in his arms. And that was all that mattered.

-----

A.N.: mus musculus means mouse. i call this story mouse, because when i was typing it, a small field mouse was scurrying around my desk. Aiko is Japanese for beloved, and Koishii bastically means the same thing- sweetheart, darling, beloved, etc.