Before we begin reading the story, can you please disregard the actual locations of the places I have mentioned in the story. These places are only names and if their actual locations do not match, it's because I don't really know where they are.

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

Chapter One


Rain sheeted over the windshield, so thick it could have been honey. Oblivious to its intensity, Serena Tsukino opened her car door and was immediately met with a deluge that turned her platinum blonde locks three shades darker. Her bangs fell in her face, streaming it with more tears of the sky.

Blinking rapidly, Serena jumped onto the rain-pounded street, one foot sinking into a low spot in the asphalt, instantly soaking her to the ankle.

"Welcome home," she muttered, shielding her eyes against the downpour.

Straight ahead the street sign for Crescent Bay's First City Bank glowed like a white rectangular eye. To her right, a pink neon crab and scripted letters that cried Crawfish Delish! Beckoned to a café's warm interior. Serena debated. She was starving! The long car trip hadn't been enjoyable and the café looked so warm and enticing… but no. She had a lot to do. Lots of decisions to make. Lots of people to see.

Screwing up her courage, she marched across the street to another sign and another eating establishment, this one a tad less sharp and new but still appealing, more like a beloved but scuffed shoe. Crown Fruit Parlour. And of course the Crown Game Centre Below. The hangout of her youth.

She'd sworn she would never return. Sworn she would never set foot in this dreaded place again as long as she lived. Crescent Bay, California. Population: 3,001. If there was a more hellish place on earth, Serena couldn't think of it. This was where she's suffered through an adolescence that had cut her so deeply that even now, years–eons–later, she still couldn't hear the town's name with feeling a burning pain that brought a stabbing sensation in her chest.

The Crown's sign grew clearer as she drew near––a wash of red and white against a sky so dark and close it felt like the approach of a deadly meteor. Drawing a breath, she reminded herself that this was just her hometown, a coastal tourist trap filled with colourful locals, a few mean spirited people whom she had less than pleasant thoughts.

She slopped through puddles of rain. Red beams of lights flashed onto the pavement––a scarlet blur that warned in intermittent blinks that the swinging traffic lights overhead were on the fritz. Not that anyone cared. She could have been on the moon, for all the signs of humanity moving about tonight.

Her fingers closed around the metal bar on Crown's glass doors. Ghostly fingers walked up her spine. Déjà vu.

She shivered.

Inside, the warmth hit her like a hammer. The jukebox played at a decibel level she could no longer handle without pain. Serena glanced around furtively, half expecting some old nemesis to leap up, point at her and scream out her transgressions.

Serena Tsukino. Serena, Serena. Cry-baby, loser, slut.

"Serena?"

She gasped, one hand to her throat, too stunned to do more than stare at the frozen man who'd spoken from behind the counter.

"Is it you?" he asked in amazement, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.

Brushing back a strand of saturated hair, Serena gazed at his face, waiting for her heart rate to return to normal. Her first impression was how different he looked; her second––and this came with a jolt––was that he was one of her classmates from Crescent High.

"Andrew?" she asked tentatively.

"It is you! God Almighty!" Flipping up a section of the counter, he came toward her, arms outstretched. His apron covered stains of sauce and milkshakes. He stopped short, right in front of her, apparently recalling, as she did, that everything had changed.

But his openness worked like a cure. Serena stepped into his arms and hugged him hard. Her throat tightened. Andrew Hansford, Fred's oldest son had been one of the few people who's stuck up for her when everyone else at Crescent High had welcomed her demise.

"I'm covered with sauce and soda." He hugged her back, just as warmly.

"I'm dripping with rain." She gently disengaged herself and glanced ruefully at the tiny puddles germinating around her feet.

"Wow. I can't get over it! How long has it been?"

"A few years."

An understatement if there ever was one. It had been over thirteen years since graduation and even then, Serena hadn't been around for the ceremonies. She'd already left.

"Well, sit down, sit down." He gestured to one of the cushioned booths.

"Let me get out of my coat. It's hot enough in here to take a steam bath." Shrugging out of her overcoat, Serena inhaled deeply, her pulse beating light and fast. She'd worked at Crown's Parlour that memorable, disastrous year when she'd fallen in love with Darien Shields, captain of the football team, top of the class, the most popular guy in school, all around Mr. Wonderful.

Bastard.

"So, what are you doing here? I heard you'd moved to New York. Heading for stardom."

"The rumour mill really did work overtime," Serena murmured, surprised even thought she shouldn't be. The collective minds of Crescent High, Class of '93, weren't exactly on the brilliant end of the scale. "I went to Atlanta."

"No kidding? All this time? What've you been doing there?"

"Working." Andrew waited expectantly and Serena added, "I'm half owner of Lita's Thunder and Lightning Restaurant."

"Wow."

"It's not all that glamorous. It's really just a job."

As soon as the words were out she regretted them. She'd spent so much of her time belittling herself, it had never occurred to her that in some people's eyes her ownership might seem the pinnacle of success.

"Sounds pretty great to me," Andrew declared without an ounce of envy. "I'm still stuck here at the fruit parlour, making a nuisance of myself."

"How's your dad?"

"Oh, Fred's the same. Just a little greyer, y'know?" Andrew grinned and Serena saw the boy she'd gone to school with. "He still asks about you. 'That Tsukino girl. She sure was a looker.' You'll have to stop in and say hello before you leave." He paused. "How long ya here for?"

"Just passing through." Serena swallowed and smiled, certain that if she showed any other emotion, she would break down and make a fool of herself. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Wouldn't it be great to see some of the old gang again? I mean, jeez, it's been so long!"

"Yeah, great."

Andrew was oblivious to her sarcasm. And why not? He'd always been jovial and extroverted and completely innocent. He'd been incensed by the cruel things they'd said about her, a champion to the end, even when she'd wanted him to just shut up and let the whole thing die.

But she'd appreciated his championing nonetheless.

Well, that was what she was here for now, right? To put all this nonsense to bed. To face and forget about the mistakes she's made, and then to try to forgive the people who'd hurt her when she'd been a miserable, mixed-up kid.

"So, are ya married?" Andrew asked, glancing down at her hands.

"Not at the moment." Not ever.

"Well, you remember Rita Blake? I made her my lovely bride right after graduation."

"I remember Rita."

A smart girl. Little on the tall side with chocolate coloured hair. One of the nice girls who attended Crescent High. Definitely worthy of Andrew.

"We got two kids. Andrew, Jr.'s six and Kathy's five."

"Congratulations."

"Ya want something to eat? A drink? Food?"

He bustled behind the counter where a girl was fumbling with the cash register. She stared at Serena through liquid, dark brown eyes with that incredibly dull, suspicious stare that lived in the gaze of too many American teens.

"It's a bit cold, so I'll get you some coffee and perhaps a slice of strawberry cheesecake."

"That'd be great." A little cake wouldn't hurt. I'll need strength for what I'm going to do later.

Serena laid her coat over the back of a chair and perched at a nearby table, watching as Andrew and the girl prepared her order. The phone wasn't ringing; no one wanted to go out in the rain. Little wonder. Water still beaded and ran off her coat onto the floor.

"It's a monsoon out there," she said loudly.

"Huh?" Andrew glanced toward the now-steamy glass front doors. A gust of wind half blew them inward. "Oh yeah! What a disaster. You sure picked a good time to come."

"My timing was never great"

"Huh?" He cocked an ear her way.

"Never mind."

Serena settle back and sighed, ruefully aware that her heart still beat light and fast. Why did it matter so much? Why?

She knew why. That was the trouble. She'd known why fourteen years ago when she'd decided to keep her pregnancy a secret.

A group of kids ran into the Crown Parlour, screaming with laughter and shaking water from their hair. The girls hung on the boys and the boys pushed each other around, teasing and testing and generally showing off. It could have been Serena's senior year. It could have been her and Mina and Raye and Andrew and Matt and Darien.

Andrew brought her coffee and cake. Serena chewed several bites and gave him the thumbs-up. He grinned, delighted. Although she'd tasted the cake and its sweetness, her memories had taken away her appetite and its allure.

She stayed as long as she could before her consciousness got the better of her. Finally, she paid and thanked Andrew, then waded through the rain-shrouded street back to her car. The white compact car started without a cough and Serena eased towards the North Beach Road––where the rich people lived.

The Shields owned the house at the end of the lane, a Victorian seaside home with a wrought-iron-railed widow's walk and elaborate gingerbread surrounding every pillar and window. As a child, Serena had dreamed of living in a house just like theirs. It was beautiful. A fairytale. So perfect, it belonged in Candyland or a Disney movie.

The Shields kids had wanted for nothing. Serena could remember sticking her face between the wrought-iron spikes of the surrounding fence, peeking at their wonderland, wishing with all her might that she'd been "to the manor born" instead of the skinny-legged daughter of one of Crescent Bay's poorest and most pathetically dysfunctional families.

Her father, Ken, wasn't a stable man, often moving from job to job, he'd drown his sorrows in drink. Not often, and only rarely, but nevertheless he drank. During these times, with the aid of liquid strength, he'd beat Serena and her mother. His horrified remorse afterward only made the whole thing a hundred times worse. It made her believe there would be an end. It made her believe that he would finally pull his life together and they could live as a whole, happy family. But it didn't change the fact that he'd become an alcoholic. A disease. An incurable plague. One that ultimately prevented any thoughts of a happy life on Serena's behalf.

By the time Serena understood that nothing would change, Serena's mother had died. Not physically. She was still there, sitting in the living room or moving with the beaten weariness of the hopeless through the kitchen, where every moment was an eternity, every movement an expenditure of energy she couldn't afford, every teardrop an evaporation of her soul until there were no more teardrops left.

Serena was virtually on her own at fourteen. No one regulated her. No one could afford the emotional commitment.

So…she searched for love elsewhere.

Her friends were her lifeline – at least, until she turned seventeen and her skinny legs lengthened and curved while her breasts developed and her cute, round face smoothed out and changed. Suddenly her eyes were as blue and clear as the sky, her face regal and shaped, her lips full and smiling with promise.

So long, friends. Hello, boyfriends.

The shame of it was that Serena had welcomed the changed. Revelled in it! Who wanted to be the plain girl? Not Serena Tsukino. No way! She wanted to be the princess, the girl everyone wanted to be, the most popular girl in school.

And she was bound and determined to win that trophy, no matter what it cost.

What a vain, silly, self-destructive goal. But for the girl who had nothing, it was a chance to have almost everything.

And everything included Darien Shields.

Serena pulled into the Shields drive and up to the gates. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, headlights feebly arrowing through the pounding rain. The windshield fogged, and she switched on the defrost, glad that the rush of air covered the heavy pounding in her ears.

She had to climb out to push the button of the intercom. Cold raindrops trickled down the back of her neck. Her shoes were soaked, ruined, and she stared down at them dismally, wishing she didn't have to go through with this.

But she did.

Punching the black button, she called, "Hello?" into the speaker. Background fuzz. No answer.

She waited, then called again.

"Who's there?" a female voice demanded, so sharp and clear that Serena gasped in shocked recognition.

His mother's voice. The Evil Witch. As cold as ocean waves and just a treacherous.

Serena had run afoul of her without even trying.

Swallowing, she announced, "Hello, Mrs. Shields. It's Serena Tsukino."

She'd said it and her voice sounded strong and clear. Thank you, God.

"Who?"

Evil Witch knew damn well who it was. For the first time since she'd decided to make this pilgrimage, Serena smiled. Nervous as she was, she was no longer the frightened little girl Beryl Shields had scorned with such fury. "Serena Tsukino," she said distinctly.

There was no answer.

"I'd like to talk to Darien. I need to get his address or phone number."

"Darien's not here."

Did I say he was? Serena controlled her temper with an effort. But it was good to be mad. Great, in fact. She'd cowered as a teenager but she was a teenager no longer. She was a woman who, for better or worse, had made some tough choices over the years and had lived with them. They hadn't all been the best choices. Many times they'd been the only choices. But she'd made them all on her own.

"Would you be kind enough to give me his address? I'd really appreciate it."

"Excuse me."

Serena waited and as the time spun out, she realised she'd been cut off for good. Cut off as permanently as she had been nearly thirteen years ago.

Pressing the button, she said distinctly, "I won't go away. I'm staying in Crescent Bay until I finish what I came for. I'm going to come every day and press this button until you either help me, or give me a good reason why you won't/ You can call the police. In fact, I'm sure you will. But it will only hurt you in the end because you know Darien's going to want to hear what I have to say."
Back in the car, Serena inhaled several angry breaths before she started the engine. In a spurt of indignation she backed out of the driveway, spraying wet-black gravel in all directions. Her right rear tire slipped off the road into a muddy bog. Yanking the wheel, Serena punched the accelerator but the car only succeeded in spinning in a circle until she was sideways in the road.

"Damn…"

Serena tried to baby the bar forward but the right rear tire spun deeper into the mud.

"Wouldn't you know," she muttered, sure this was some kind of punishment for arguing with the ruler of the Shields Manor.

Suddenly headlight flickered eerily. A car was coming––and coming fast! Panicked, Serena tried to twist the steering wheel. If this car didn't slow down, it would plough right into her driver's side as soon as it made the last turn! Stomping on her accelerator again, Serena prayed for help. Her back tires whined and spun.

"Oh, God!"

The approaching vehicle whipped around the corner. Its headlights bore down on her like huge, glaring eyes. Serena jerked back in the seat, as if that would save her from the impact. A black Jeep. Racing toward her. Huge tires spewing water. Crying out, Serena covered her face with her arms.

The driver slammed on the brakes. The jeep shimmied and slid sideways, hydroplaning toward her car in a slow-motion nightmare. Serena braced herself. Inches from her car, the Jeep suddenly shuddered to a stop, as if the driver had suddenly found a magic brake.

Serena let out her breath. She fumbled for the door handle. Hallelujah! No impact. No injuries. But her pulse was galloping at breakneck speed again.

The driver leaped out of his Jeep at the same moment she scrambled out of her compact. "You okay?" she asked.

He strode toward her, hard, fast, his shoulders thrust forward.

"Oh, God." She would know that walk anywhere. Darien!

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded furiously. "Meditating? You want a view of the beach, go somewhere else. This is private property."

"No kidding."

"I nearly smashed into you! You're damn lucky I've got new tires or we'd both be examining the wreckage!"

He looked the same. Incredibly the same. From the thick black strands of hair that now slapped lank with water against his forehead, to the rock-hard jaw, wide, muscular shoulder, lean hips, and long legs.

Darien Shields. All-around athlete. Her knight––or Prince––in shining armour.

Except he'd used her and thrown her away.

And suddenly Serena couldn't tell him. The words wouldn't even form in her brain, let alone reach her lips. This angry man glaring down at her as if wanted to rip her limb from limb, much the way he'd glare at her years before, didn't deserve the truth.

"I'm sorry," Serena murmured, turning away. "I made a mistake."

That threw him. He was ready for battle and she'd capitulated without an angry words. Running a hand through his hair, he only succeeded in pushing the rain-slicked locks away for a second before they flopped forward once more. He peered at her through narrowed eyes, his mouth tight with fury.

"Wait," he muttered as Serena climbed into her car and slammed her door closed.

Rain blurred the windshield. Serena trembled again. A shadow loomed outside and suddenly Darien was right beside her, peering in the window. Panic overtook her. She fought it; she had no reason to fear him now. But she couldn't help herself.

The beams of his headlights were aimed through her windshield, glancing off her eyes, blinding her. She shaded her face, happy to hide from Darien's probing gaze.

"Hey." He rapped on her window.

She toyed with the idea of simply tearing away, spinning through the mud and hopefully avoiding both him and his Jeep in her bid for escape. But running hadn't been the answer in the past; it certainly wasn't the answer now.

Cracking the window a sliver, she kept her face averted. Courage apparently wasn't her strong suit, she thought ruefully, avoiding looking at him straight on.

"Are you lost? There isn't anything else down this road except this property." He gestured toward the house.

"The Shields."

"You know the family?" he asked, surprised. Now he was really staring at her.

"I've heard of them." Serena twisted the ignition but one of his hands, wet and strong, clamped over her window.

"Wait a minute."

"I'm in a hurry," she retorted, pressing her toe to the accelerator.

His breath swept in, almost in a gasp. "My God," he whispered in amazement. "Serena!"

She cringed. "Hard to believe, isn't it" she muttered. Thankfully the compact crept forward, the tires gripping easily now that she wasn't stomping on the gas. Still, she had to work to avoid his bumper. But Darien hung right on, walking alongside, gazing at her until, unable to stop herself, Serena stared at him full-face.

His eyes were a dark midnight blue, dark as the deepest trenches of the ocean, and full of undisguised shock. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Haunting the neighbourhood."

It just slipped out. After years of habit. Sarcasm, her favourite protective device.

And it was as if she'd suddenly awakened him from a hypnotic trance, for his face changed as he, too, remembered their last, less-than-pleasant parting.

"You came to see me." His voice was hard. "Why?"

"I came to see a lot of people. Don't let it go to your head."

"You haven't changed."

"Fortunately, that's not true. Let go of the window, Dare."

"No one's called me Dare since high school."

"Really? What do they call you? Or should I even ask?"

He didn't miss the jab, and she remembered with a tiny dart of pain, that he'd always been quick – one of the few intelligent jocks Crescent Bay every turned out. His mouth quirked, almost with amusement, and she suddenly remember the taste of his lips and the whiteness of his teeth.

Her heart jolted painfully. Why? Why did she remember these things?

"Darien," he said quietly.

"Well, Darien, I gotta go. It's been…interesting."

"How long are you going to be in town?"

"As short a time as possible."

He stared at her, long and hard. Serena's breath caught. She was mesmerised. As mesmerised as she'd been that first time he'd singled her out from the rest of the giddy sophomore girls.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he told her in a tight voice.

And then he slipped away from the window and strode through the rain to his waiting Jeep.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would be able to review my chapters. I love to know what people think of my story and efforts so far. Anonymous or signed, comments would be great.

Also, just so you people know, I am trying to update each chapter when I can and when I receive enough reviews. If not, maybe up to a week or 2. ;) However, this will only be until I start school next year, by then I will try to update every 2 or 3 weeks. Although this may depend on how busy I am or how tired I am. I am trying to concentrate on my studies and be prepared, so until the next school year, you can expect regular updates.

Until next time, bye.