Flirting with Disaster

Hi everyone! A tiny smattering of humor and just a dash of l'amour for your reading pleasure! If it doesn't strike your fancy right away—well then, write away! That's right! Mamo-chan, who I borrowed from the too-generous Naoko Takeuchi and have no intention of returning anytime soon, deserves to be written about in a flattering manner, at the very least! And so, I present to you chapter one to a very long, very mind-boggling version of events in the world of this man and his—well, his "soulmate," if you will.

And before I turn you over to this wonderful world of twists and turns, I'd like to add my thanks to Joey, who was the first to read the beginning (and unfinished) stages of this fanfiction—thank you for enduring my endless pokes and naggings about finishing the readings! And Halbert, who so endearingly dubbed it "erotica" (it is NOT erotica in any way, shape, or form—can't you read the rating?!) and helped it bloom in its earliest stages by letting me read his own works. And of course, Fang, what would I do without you? The countless hours of late-night revisions, all thanks to some dearly-needed encouragement. Not to mention the latest addition to the crew on board, an ardent fiction reader to whom I turn to as my supplement on the latest developments in the ever-expanding realm of writing—you know who you are! A reader with, perhaps, the best qualifications as of yet to critique my works. I am still looking for un-official online editors, but thanks so much for all your support! And now...on with the show!

Prologue

Sunlight danced through sleepily swaying curtains. Noontime.

Noontime.

Noontime? Noo—"Yaaarrghhhh!"

A ball of blankets flew up in a flurried frenzy on the pink-quilted bed. Noontime already! The bulging mass struggled violently while the occasional arm or leg flailed from within the gaping sheet-creature's mouth. The dizzying sight of this jumble of pillows, bedsheets, and limbs would have been enough to convince anyone of the boogeyman's existence.

And then—pop! Out of the yawning void of the blanket-monster tumbled a hopelessly scrambled girl who looked no less monster-like than her bedcover-counterpart, brilliant hair askew and still shining under that darn noontime sun. With a disgruntled huff, she shook off the suffocating sheets and leapt up, newly liberated. Then she flung open the door and thundered down the stairs as if all the furies in hell were on her tail.

She sped around the landing at top speed, letting out an unearthly shriek as she skid dangerously on the wood paneling and left scorch marks on the polished floor. On the last few steps to the front door, she gave a flying leap that would have made her the envy of a flying squirrel and pounced on the door handle. Then she wrenched open the door with superhuman speed—and found her face inches from a very large fist.

She blinked once. Twice.

And promptly slammed the door shut again.

"Usako?" The voice sounded much closer than it should have through the closed door, as if it had not slammed shut properly. "Usako, honey, are you okay in there?" Just as Tsukino Usagi decided that the best option at this point would be to ignore the disembodied voice and try to tip-toe unnoticed away from the door, however, she saw something sitting by the door frame. 'Oh my God,' she thought, 'there's a foot in my doorway!'

"Usako!" the foot said worriedly. Usagi looked down at her own bunny slipper-clad feet and back at the talking one—wearing a shiny, black dress shoe, nonetheless—intruding in her house. Nope, definitely not her own. Well, in that case...

She swung her foot back and kicked hard.

And missed by a mile.

"Whoaaa!" Once again, she went flying up in the air, wondering vaguely whether or not her dad would finally listen to her and buy carpeting for that really, really hard wood floor of theirs. However, her thoughts were cut short as a hand shot through the door opening ('another wretched body part,' Usagi thought with fleeting self-amusement) and caught her neatly by the wrist. She felt herself being tugged forward out of the way of the door. The door was pushed open from the outside and a tall figure darted through just as Usagi hurtled towards the ground in notoriously perfected form. The world's greatest nosediver, ladies and gentlemen, at her best! Watch and learn—

Two seconds later, she lay sprawled out on the very soft and comfortable floor that had been neither very soft nor very comfortable-looking only seconds before. The very soft, comfortable, breathing floor...

"Oh. Hi, Mamo-chan." Usagi looked down into a pair of rather dazed blue eyes, which for her was a strange experience in itself (not counting the fact that she was lying on top of her very bemused boyfriend) since her "Mamo-chan" usually towered over her by a good fifteen or sixteen centimeters standing up. This time, though, not only were their positions reversed, but they were also a bit...just the tiniest bit...

Suggestive.

"You alright...Usako?" Chiba Mamoru breathed. The fall had knocked the wind out of him. Of course, it could also have to do with the fact that a certain odangoed girl was lying on top of him and thus restricting his breathing. The forces of gravity themselves, however, could not be entirely responsible for this breathless feeling, since a 45-kilogram girl could hardly constrict his chest in this way with mere weight. It was more because...she was...on top of...Oh boy.

"I'm fine," she mumbled into his shirt, seemingly content with staying in this position for some length of time. In fact, she looked ready to go right back to sleep. However, Mamoru was rather preoccupied with other, more disturbing thoughts; namely, how her father would react when he saw the two of them doing something very much like the horizontal tango. Probably chuck an armful of cherry bombs at him or something.

"Er...Usako, honey," Mamoru muttered, trying to slide out from under the cuddling girl without her noticing. This proved to be a very difficult task, however, and he gave up very quickly. Instead, he resigned himself to savoring the final minutes of his life before his certain premature death. And really, it was not too difficult to savor an enticing moment like this. 'At least I'll die happy,' he thought hopelessly. Mamoru was quite sure, in any case, that if Usagi were aware of her father's death wishes towards her dear soulmate, she might have moved. However, she did not know. So all this dangerous physical contact went unnoticed to the girl who was, as we have mentioned before, lying very intimately on top of a slightly stressed Mamoru. On the other hand, Mamoru did enough noticing of this little fact for the both of them. He blushed.

"...Hey, Usako...Are you planning on going out like—" He glanced down (or, rather, up) at Usagi's clothes and gulped. She wore a pink thin-layered pajama top with matching pajama bottoms. One of the buttons had come undone and now revealed a bit of skin immediately below the collarbone, although Mamoru thanked the heavens that nothing more showed, or he might be...affected...And God knows what would happen if he was influenced in a vulnerable position like this. As if in tandem with this appealing thought of seduction, his heart stopped for a full second, before resuming its beating at double-time, as if to make up for the temporary lapse due to...sensual affectations.

He tried again. "Going out in your pajamas?" He managed to croak, trying to laugh and sounding like a dying frog instead. But it worked. Usagi's eyes, which had been contentedly closed a moment before, shot open and widened in horror as she took a quick glance down at what could be seen of her sleepwear between their two tightly pressed-together bodies.

She gave a little squeak of distress and sprang up to her feet, tugging in dismay at her frizzled hair on the way up in an attempt to lesson the image damage done. The gesture, unfortunately, did not work, and poor Usagi was left, flustered and slightly embarrassed, to mumble an incoherent apology before shuffling off as quickly as she could without actually running. Mamoru, on the other hand, was left quite unceremoniously on the still very-stiff floor, lying right where their little encounter had left him.

For a few moments, Mamoru simply lay there, having only just regained the blessed faculty of free breathing. Tsukino Kenji entered the room on his way to the kitchen. Mamoru froze. It seemed strange to think that Usagi's father would appreciate Mamoru in this awkward position, lying in the family's doorway, more than he liked Mamoru standing up, but it seemed to be a comfort to him to think of Mamoru in a state that made him look so close to dead. So when he passed by the entrance hall, fully prepared to give Mamoru a piece of his mind for the noise he had caused, he spared Mamoru the usual non-verbal death threats and contented himself with trodding on Mamoru's fingers instead. However, even this would-be terrifying experience hardly registered with Mamoru, whose senses (particularly his physical ones) were elsewhere. His mind was beginning to unravel the implications of having his very sleepy, very innocent, very underage Usako lying—in her pink pajamas, nonetheless—right across him, ready to fall asleep again. He groaned softly and ran a weary hand through his dark hair, eyes closed, determined to keep the sleepwear-donning Usagi dancing circles in his mind's eye from intruding on his mental space. Except, of course, that he was now doing nothing but thinking about not thinking about her.

"But why shouldn't I, anyway? I mean, she's my girlfriend!" he reminded himself, but only half-heartedly. He pushed himself up from the floor, and his neck cricked violently. "Just to play it safe," he answered himself in a low voice. With a defeated sigh, he decided to distract himself by taking a good look around his familiar surroundings. Something caught his eye. Usagi's cushions. Turn around. Usagi's flowers. Look away. Usagi's pictures.

Mamoru walked to the nearest corner, rested his forehead against the wall, and stayed there for the rest of his long wait.

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What a milestone! What an accomplishment (or, rather, what accomplishment?) This is the first chapter I have ever published as an online author—which was for me to know and you to find out, after the fact was done and over with:) Not that deliberate deception particularly gains the trust of readers or anything. But I digress! Now that everything—or at least part of it—is out in the open, I implore the befuddled eyes perusing this screen, with my superbly fantastic expanded writer's vocabulary, to [YES...send feedback! E-mail me at Drown me in it! Be constructive! Be critical (to an extent)! But compliments don't hurt, either! In fact, they heal! What are you still doing here? Send! Overzealousness should be considered an attribute, not a character flaw.

And yes, I will respond! Even if I'm really, really slow. But I'll try not to be that way at least in writing this fic (which is something I've been saying for the past few months or so)! I do have to let you know that there will be a slight back-up until the next chapter—I'm so sorry, but school's started, what can I say? It might seem like a long time, but just think of how long Mamo-chan and Usagi had to wait to become King and Queen? But don't let that stop you! E-mail me!

Ala Verity,