The engagement was announced and the date was set. In six short months, Tsukino Usagi was to become Chiba Usagi, and Chiba Mamoru would officially become "off the market." Of course, Mamoru loved Usagi with all his heart and he couldn't wait to start the rest of his life with her, but still, all this wedding stuff was beginning to give him a headache. He wasn't sure how much more he could stand of squealing girls, centerpieces, and giant cakes. Every detail had to be worked out, and for some reason, every detail had to be OK'd by him before Usagi would allow her friends to arrange it. Finally, at one point, after being shown a picture of the one hundred thousandth tablecloth design, Mamoru had pulled Usagi into a desperate hug and said, "Please, Usako, I know you want me to be involved, but I love you and I trust your judgment." After that, he had managed to detach himself from the five Inner Senshi (even Ami had fallen victim to the Marriage Madness, though she was far more controlled) and escaped to the nearest bar, where he now sat with a nice, cold beer.

"Yo, Chiba-kun," said a husky voice behind him, and he turned to face a very ruffled-looking Haruka. She was wearing a button-up work shirt, but the top two buttons were undone, as well as the sleeve buttons. She was also carrying a bottle of beer, the same draft as his own. He smiled at her as she occupied the seat next to him.

"Good evening, Tenoh-san," he replied, offering her the bowl of peanuts, which she politely refused.

"Just Haruka is fine."

"Then I insist you call me Mamoru."

A moment of silence passed, where they reflected on their relation. Mamoru was the future King of Crystal Tokyo. Haruka was the leader of his wife's Outer ring of soldiers. It only seemed appropriate that they call each other by their first names. Well, for now, at least.

Finally, Mamoru spoke over the din of various bar sounds around them. "So what are you doing here?" he asked politely, drinking from his bottle and then placing it down.

"Ah, well, I was originally looking to get smashed, but I suppose that now that I'm in the presence of a superior, that wouldn't exactly be proper conduct, now would it?" She chuckled, taking a rather gratuitous swig of her beer. Mamoru raised an eyebrow at her, and she decided to explain herself. "It's..." she hesitated, then shrugged, "It's Michiru. It's always Michiru, you know? If it's not one thing, it's another."

The dark-haired boy could not help but laugh at this. "I know exactly what you mean," he admitted.

"I bet. I mean, I know she means well, but sometimes she really gets to me. 'Haruka, you shouldn't spend so much time on your car.' 'Haruka, auto racing is dangerous.'" She shook her head. "She doesn't understand that I can't give it up."

They fell silent again as Mamoru pondered this. "Sometimes," he started, "I'm grateful that Usako and I share our only dangerous hobby. I'm grateful that I can help her out if need ever be, even if, in the end, she is a lot stronger than me." He laughed slightly. "Hell, the whole lot of you are stronger than me."

"Got that right, buddy," agreed Haruka, though Mamoru could tell she was being joking even if the statement WAS true. After a minute, Haruka snorted, shook her head, muttered, "Girls," and drank from her bottle again. Then she asked, "Was that your Mustang I saw in the parking lot?"

"Sure is. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. It's making an odd noise and I can't figure out what's wrong with it. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to take a look at it instead of me having to take it to the stupid shop."

"I'd be happy to. Those shops, they don't know what they're doing anyway."

"Yeah, I've heard horror stories from some of the guys at work."

Haruka shook her head. "You can't trust just anyone with a machine like yours, man. It deserves the best service out there. I know I wouldn't trust my 'Vette with those scumbags."

Nodding, Mamoru replied, "That's why I'm asking you to look at it."

She smiled at him for a second, and then went back to absent-mindedly crushing a peanut shell with the rim of her bottle. Then she asked, "So what brings you here?"

"What else? Marriage arrangements."

"Hm? Are you having the wedding here, then?" teased the blonde.

The boy shook his head with a chuckle. "Honestly, I never thought I'd say this, but I think I've had enough of those girls for a little while."

Haruka gasped in fake shock, "No! You? Tired of the little kittens?"

"It seems like Usako can't do anything without asking me about it first. 'Mamo-chan, what do you think of this color?' 'Mamo-chan, what kind of flower should we put in this tiny corner?' 'Oh, don't you think these frilly pink things are cute, Mamo-chan?' At this point I'm ready to just tell her to make everything black so that she'll stop asking for my opinion."

"That's not actually a bad idea, 'Mamo-chan.'"

Mamoru threw a peanut at his laughing companion.

"The funny thing is," he continued, "they didn't even notice when I left today. And they haven't tried to reach me, though I suspect Ami-chan may have something to do with that. She probably knows I need a break."

Glancing at her watch, Haruka said, "Michiru should be calling me any minute now. Hotaru-chan throws a fit if I'm not there to read her a bed-time story."

Next to her, Mamoru watched as her expression softened at the idea of going home to her family. "You know, Haruka," Mamoru stated, "seeing you and Kaioh-san and Hotaru-chan together like a family, it makes me more excited to marry Usako. I can tell that you three have a lot of love for each other."

Haruka began to play with the ring on her left hand. "They say that once you get married, that's the end of your life, as far as 'fun' goes. That you'll be stuck with the same nagging woman for all eternity. But you know what, Mamoru? I'm twenty-seven years old. I met Michiru when I was sixteen. And I love her more and more with each passing day, with or without the nagging. Knowing that I have a thousand more years with her, well, that's a very comforting and exciting thought." The smile playing at her lips widened as she said, "And don't even get me started on Hotaru-chan."

Suddenly, Haruka's cell phone rang. She jumped up, muttered a quick apology to Mamoru, and walked slightly down the bar to talk. Straining to listen, the dark-haired man was able to catch snippets of the conversation. "No, no, I'm not mad at you... I understand... Is she all tucked in?... No... Yeah... Okay..." There was a long pause. "Michiru! Michiru, stop. Listen, I don't care about any of that. I love you, and I understand why you did it.... No, don't feel bad, darling... Yes... I'll be home soon and we can sort this out, okay?... Yeah, I'm just having a drink with Chiba-kun." She laughed, then said, "Yes, that's what he said... Okay, I'll tell him you said 'Hi.'... All right, honey, see you soon... I love you, too... I will..."

When she returned to her seat, she took out her wallet and paid for her drink. "'Taru-chan's getting a little impatient, apparently. Michiru says 'Hi' and she says to tell you that you, Koneko-chan, her and I are all going tuxedo-shopping on Thursday, so don't make any other plans," she finished in a joking tone.

"Right, other plans. I think I can clear some space in my schedule," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He, too, paid for his drink and stood. "I'd better get back before Usako sends her lackeys after me. When should I bring the car by?"

"I'm free every day but Tuesday, I've got a race."

"Alright, how about Wednesday?"

"Wednesday it is."

"See you then, Haruka. Have a great night."

"You too, Mamoru. Good luck with the wedding shit."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

And, laughing, they went to their separate cars and headed home.