Title: Cliché Author: Alse Part 5: Confrontation Rating: PG-13 E-mail: alsepang@hotmail.com Disclaimer: It is a widely known and indisputable fact that Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon belongs only to Naoko Takeuchi and whichever companies and their franchises she has assigned whatever copyrights of merchandise, television, film, etc. to. This story was not written for profit on the writer's part and was never intended to be used for any such gain. ~*~*~*~*~*~* I had to go down for dinner so that my parents wouldn't suspect anything. They asked about the job offers but I don't remember what I said. All in all, I was rather glad to leave the table when a telephone call came for me. "Who is it?" I asked my mother, who had taken the call. "A man, but he didn't say who he was." I picked up the receiver with a shaking hand. If it was Darien-would it be Darien-what could I say? "He-hello?" I said nervously. "That you, Champion?" Sean. My shoulders sagged with relief, but I was conscious of some emotion very akin to disappointment. "Yeah. Hi, Sean." "Hey. Um, listen. Uh-your mum told me that you broke the Swarovski that Imogene gave you. Um-yeah, it just so happens that I got you a gift. It's another Swarovski and it's cool. It's also expensive, Champion, so I suggest you come over to get it." "Where are you?" I asked, puzzled. Why couldn't he just have brought it over himself? "Uh-actually, the thing is with your friend, Lizzie. I can't deliver it personally, worst of luck, 'cause I, er, have to go to the solicitor's with my parents." "But surely the solicitor's closed? It's night time, you know," I pointed out. "Uh-oh, I meant that we were going to have dinner at the lawyer's. Sheesh, Champion, what's with the questions? Is this Jeopardy or what? Don't tell me you don't want the gift-it cost a BOMB, so you'd better accept it." He sounded almost threatening, no doubt wondering about how many things he would have to forgo thanks to having purchased the gift for me. "Don't worry, I will. I'll call Lizzie right away." Lizzie sounded extremely excited when I called her. "Oh, Sere, the present is just wonderful! You're so lucky! You won't regret it, I promise. I know what it is- and it's so sweet! Hurry up and get over here, you!" I hurried as ordered, throwing on a sleeveless pale pink blouse with the ends tied around my midriff and Capri pants. I grabbed a large sports jacket, hopped into the car and drove off. Lizzie practically dragged me into the house as soon as I got there, nearly ripping off my jacket before I could slip it off myself. "I put your present somewhere in the second guest room," she told me. "You know-the one upstairs at the end." We went into the said room. "Now, let's see-where did I put it?" Lizzie frowned. Then her cellular phone rang. "Oh, excuse me. --Hello? Yes, yes. Right!" I watched her in surprise. "Good news?" I raised an eyebrow as she turned back to me, a wide grin on her face. Lizzie nodded. "The best. Oh, your present's in the third drawer of that chest over there." I walked over and pulled open the specified drawer. Sure enough, there was a huge, gaily-wrapped package in it. I crossed over to the bed to open it. There was no way that I was going to drop it and break it. I took off the paper carefully-it was very pretty and I wanted to keep it. Below the wrapper lay a box. Inside, wrapped protectively in soft layers of tissue, was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a delicate crystal sculpture of a perfect rose in full bloom, every crystal petal captured marvellously, glittering with unsurpassed brilliance under the soft lights in the room. I ran my fingers across the sculpture, tracing each petal in near wonder. It was so beautiful. Abruptly a male voice from across the room cut quietly and somewhat hesitantly into my reverie. "Do-do you like it?" I froze. Oh, please, no...not again...this is so not fair... A scent of rose-scented cologne wafted through the air and I knew the answer to my unspoken plea. I could feel him from all the way across room, watching me silently. I couldn't quite react just then, as my brain went into overload with a barrage of questions and no answers in sight-what was he doing here? Why was he here? Who had let him in? What did he mean? What would a normal woman in the present situation, one who had no feelings for the man near her, say or do? How fast could I get out of here? First, though, I had to beard the lion in his den. I turned very slowly, trying to still my quaking insides and looked squarely at Darien. He was leaning against the shut door and he had on that emotionless, inscrutable expression I knew all too well. Neither of us said anything for what seemed like an interminably long interval. I considered my options. I could race for the door-except that he was leaning against it. The balcony seemed a good idea, but I didn't want a broken ankle or anything. A third choice would be to do what soap opera heroines did- gasp, hold one hand to my heart and whisper throatily, "You!" As you can guess, I vetoed the last option as soon as it popped into my head. However, I found it hard to keep my lips from twitching in amusement at the very idea. "I guess you like it," Darien commented softly, seeing my unsuccessful attempts to keep my smile back. I parted my lips with some effort-they had become so dry that they had stuck together and I couldn't even speak. I ran my tongue over my lips, my brows drawing slightly together. This was going to be the *last* time I left the house without putting on lip-gloss. I looked up to see his eyes fixed on me. He had not moved the slightest and I felt hot colour flood my cheeks. There was something in the air-a thick tension that you could cut with a knife. I knew what it was, what it meant... I had to do something to get rid of it somehow. "What-" I licked my lips and tried hard to speak over the thundering, hammering beat that was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. "I-" I tried. I really did try not to be a soap opera heroine, but was I to blame for sounding both breathless and speechless? Don't even think of looking at me. It wasn't my fault-it was all his. I lost my breath and my speech mechanisms with just one look at him. He was just so perfect. Then he was sitting with me on the bed, holding me loosely in his arms, dark blue eyes gazing into mine while I hardly dared to breathe or speak at the very nearness of his presence. My mind was blank, except for registering the fact that he was here. His breath came and went quickly, much the same as mine, and the scent of his rose-scented cologne mixed with my own subtle lilies-of-the-valley fragrance invaded my already overloaded senses. "Serena, I need to know something only you know the answer to. Will you tell me?" His voice was low, deep, beautiful-and seductive. He had always had a beautiful voice. I could have promised him anything then, including the White House, access to Bill Gates' fortune and property in Madeiros. I had reverted to a malleable state of Jell-O in his hands. "Do you-love-me?" He punctuated his question with soft, tender brushes of his lips against my yielding mouth. Have you ever been seduced into answering something? 'Cause that was exactly what Darien Chesner was doing. Unfortunately, he was doing a very good job of it. Yet something in me-perhaps a sixth sense-held me back. If he was expecting a confession of undying love... "Do you?" he repeated against my lips. His dark blue eyes, darker than I had ever seen them, were deadly serious and-oddly enough-almost unsure. Unsure of what, I wondered vaguely, surprised at the revealed vulnerability. It really did seem as if something very important to him hung on my answer. But I was trapped by the darkly blue gaze I had no earthly power to resist and I could not say what my very soul was sobbing out, trying to force my lips and tongue to reveal all. I feared his reaction. I feared that he would laugh, that he would scorn, that he would use the knowledge somehow, in some way, to hurt me terribly. I would not be able to face life if that happened, because I loved him with every scrap of heart, soul, mind and being that I possessed. And in so loving him, I was afraid.