Tomorrow Is...

by SuperKateB

Time has past, and the Gals, those famous fighters of love and justice, are older now. Where will Fate take them and their children? Perhaps destiny will decide... -- Epilouge to "Totally Galactic!" and "Gals Again"

1. And There Is Light

Epilogue I: And There Is Light

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"We are to go soon."
Her voice was crisp and clear as she looked to the pool. The waters
were crystalline and smooth, surface broken only occasionally by the long
strokes of swimming.
The crown of a head appeared out of the water, followed closely by an
entire head. Red bangs stuck to a pale brow as the woman smiled
mysteriously. Blinking her gray eyes, she allowed her bare shoulders to
surface. "I knew that time would come," she responded softly, voice filled
with a certain timeless quality. "Will you hand me my robes?"
Picking up the long white robes, the elder of the two women smiled
back. "Priestess, I have yet to understand you," she sighed, shaking her
head as she set the clothing near to the edge of the pond.
Rising out of the water, the red-haired woman slipped the robes over
her head and pulled back her hair into a tight braid, revealing a glowing
silver moon on her forehead. "You never have understood me, Little Star,"
she smiled wisely, tying a white ribbon at the end of the plait and letting
her hair free. "But that's what has made our friendship so strong years
ago."
"It's still strong," argued the elder woman, a strand of thick blonde
hair falling out of her tight bun and making its way into her green eyes.
"Just...different..."
With a chuckle, the red-haired woman wrapped a protective arm around
her childhood best friend. "I'm willing to bet you that Peter's already
wondering where you wandered off to," she mused, a sly grin replacing the
otherwise enigmatic smile. "Shall we go find him?"
"Race you!" chortled the blonde, dashing down the dirt path toward the
large estate.
Braid flying through the air, the younger woman followed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"She's not usually late," he complained, pacing up and down the small
parlor. "Where is she?"
Sipping her tea gingerly, the woman with the green-black hair raised
an eyebrow and sighed. "Do you ever learn?" she inquired cynically, a wicked
half-smile passing across her face as she spoke. "You are the Master of
Time, and thusly cannot be late." She took another long sip of her drink.
"She is a free spirit..."
He snorted and crossed his arms. "Then it's a miracle that this
marriage even works!" he exclaimed, voice filled with a strong trepidation.
"Besides, she went to get the priestess." Another smile, this one more
ironic, crossed her pale face. "You know how she and Ambriel get when
they're together." Finishing off her tea, the woman winked.
Rolling his red eyes, Peter glanced out of the window and then smiled.
"You're right, Aeris," he told his sister in a thoughtful voice. "She's with
the Priestess..."
Aeris wrinkled her nose. "So?" she asked dryly.
"And they're racing down the pathway toward the house," he informed
her in a serious tone. Then, red eyes flaring, he kicked the wall. "How many
times MUST I tell her that she shouldn't do that! If anything were to
happen, I'd very well kill myself!"
She chuckled, shaking her head of long, thick hair slowly. "Nothing
will happen, and you--as well as I--know that Time will protect all four of
you..." She chuckled once again, and brushed a strand of green cat fur--cat
fur?--from her Sailor fuku. "Once, of course, there are four of you." His
sister slowly started for the door.
He--Peter Chiba, the Master of Time--blinked at his twin. "And where
are you going?"
With a shrug, the young woman pulled a long purple staff out of null-
space. "You know Joshua as well as I do," she retorted, manner slightly
aloof, a habit she'd not managed to abandon of even over twenty-eight years
of life. "He's constantly late, and THIS week, with him working at the
temple..." She trailed off with a shake of her head.
"Are you going to end up like Mother did?" questioned the young man
with the raise of a single brown eyebrow. "Will you give birth to the heirs
of Time out of wedlock?"
Her expression turned to a dark scowl, and colorful eyes faded to an
angry black. "Alright, you can shut up..."
Suddenly, the door burst open and two young women burst in through it,
panting for breath. The first was slightly older than the siblings who were
already in the parlor, her long blonde hair falling from a once-elegant bun
at the nape of her neck. A long golden gown, the color of the sunset, flowed
around her body, but its brilliance was marred with a slight dusting of mud.
Still, she smiled upon making her less-than-grand entrance and even managed
to bow in the direction of the fuku-clad adult. "Good afternoon, Pluto," she
greeted merrily. "Sorry I'm late, dear."
Peter, hands upon his hips, gave her the once-over with his intense
eyes. "What exactly do you think you're DOING?" he questioned in a low tone,
causing his wife to blush noticeably and focus on her dirty shoes. "We have
to be at Crystal Palace in an hour, and you're out racing down a path! In a
gown! And the baby..."
With one hand, she touched his arm gently, green eyed gaze searching
for the love in his eyes--the love that, oddly enough, never left no matter
how angry he was. Her other hand caressed her own slightly bulging stomach
as she smiled up at him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as he sighed and wrapped his arms around
her waist. "I just enjoy life so much..."
Burying his face in her golden locks, he nodded at her comment. "I'm
far too tough on you, even now," he responded, sighing into her tresses and
eliciting a little giggle from her lips. "I just am so protective of the
gifts I have been given..."
Sailor Pluto--or, as she preferred, Aeris Chiba--grimaced at the sweet
show of affection between her brother and sister-in-law, thumping her Time
Key on the tile floor to draw attention to herself. "I'm going to the
Yoshiko house in a whopping TWO minutes," she groaned, colorful eyes rolling
back in her head as she spoke, "and you KNOW how HE gets when I come over.
So PLEASE spare me the mush."
The blonde woman let a slow blush creep across her face. "I'm sorry,
Sailor Pluto..."
"And stop calling me that!" she exclaimed, once again rolling her
eyes. "Yes, I'm Sailor Pluto, but I'm ALSO your sister..." Sighing, she
snapped her fingers and blinked--literally blinked--out of existence.
Celeste wrinkled her nose. "She's getting cynical in her age, isn't
she?"
"Very," agreed her husband before he bent down to lay a few butterfly
kisses on her neck. "But you can't hold that against her, after all..."
"A-hem."
The couple turned to face the young woman who still stood in the
doorway, her stark white priestess robes completely out of place in the
brightly colored parlor. Her hair, like that of her friend's, had long ago
freed itself of the white ribbon and now was nothing more than a wavy mass
of red around her face. The silver moon sigil upon her brow sparkled in the
lamplight, and it was all that the blonde woman could do to smile. Years
ago, that woman had been Ambriel, a lost little girl who played with
Prophesy.
Now, she was the High Priestess of the Silver Moon.
"I'm sorry to interrupt this romantic interlude of yours," she put in,
her fierce gray eyes looking over the embrace her friends were sharing, "but
I was curious to whether or not Larissa is dressed yet."
"Honestly," Peter replied with a wrinkle of thought in his brow, "I'm
not sure. I believe she is..."
His bride giggled and pulled herself from his grip. "I can't leave you
to do ANYTHING, can I?" she asked teasingly.
He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his red eyes. "Like
Sailor Pluto doesn't distract you, too..."
"Come, Ambriel," laughed the blonde at her husband's comment, "let us
see what the little imp is up to, shall we?"
Peter sighed and shook his head as the two retreated from the room.
"She's a free spirit," he reminded himself softly, picking the single teacup
off the table and starting for the kitchen. "I just hope that Larissa
doesn't inherit that, too..."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"We're going to be late!"
"Where are my shoes?!"
"Rhea! Have you been in my perfume?"
"Shoes, shoes, shoes..."
"Rhea..."
"Eeek! My FAVORITE blush!"
"Don't you duck the subject!"
"Sharon..."
"Hang on! Rhea, have you or have you not--"
"Delaney, have you seen my shoes?"
"Oh, just answer the Goddamn question, Rhea!"
The little apartment was an absolute blur of color as the two young
women rushed through the few rooms, trying desperately to prepare for their
appearance that afternoon. One woman, with short black tresses, knelt on the
floor, seemingly searching under the single brown couch for something.
Standing above her was a long-haired woman garbed in blue, her piercing
green eyes glaring at the figure on the floor as she held a mostly-empty
glass container in one hand. Her other hand rested on a shapely hip.
The last woman, however, was collapsed in an armchair, a pair of high-
heeled shoes sitting in her lap. Unlike the other two, she was fully
clothed, and her brightly purple eyes were half-closed in annoyance as she
rested her chin in a hand. Straight, blackish-purple tresses hung limply to
her shoulders and she, as her mother before her, was dressed in a long gown
of the purest ebony color. She let the anarchy reign for another long moment
as the woman on the floor continued to search for the ever-elusive shoes in
question. Then, she finally spoke.
"Rhea, I have your shoes. You left them on the chair, and that's where
they have been for three days. Sharon, no one was in your perfume--I think
that you grabbed mine off the bathroom sink by mistake. And--unless you like
the type of perfume I like--I suggest you put it back."
Rhea grabbed her shoes from the lap of the oldest of the trio, her
expression one of a woman thoroughly pissed off for a moment before she
smiled cheerily and ran a hand through her short, messy tresses. Plopping
down on the floor to slip on her shoes, she cocked her head to one side.
"I'm glad to have a big sister like you, Delaney!" she grinned, her bright
copper eyes smiling at the relaxed adult. "What would we do without you?"
"We'd probably be living in Aeris' Hell-hole of an apartment,"
responded the last adult after she'd returned from the bathroom, another
glass vial in hand. "And, though she is my older sister and I love her
dearly, I like it better here."
With the slight curve of a smile touching her lips, twenty-six-year-
old Delaney Hartford glanced at her two friends. Rhea, five years her
junior, was a lot like their father had always been--easy-going, fun, and
quite friendly. It was a trait that she knew she'd never have, for she was
more like their mother. Though not cold, calculating, or evil--the last of
those words caused her smile to fade--she was Saturn, which could be a
blessing and a sin. And, when the Eve arrived... She shuddered and didn't
continue that thought.
Then, there was Sharon Chiba, her burgundy hair and strangely green
eyes a bit unsettling. Though only three years younger, she certainly lacked
in the maturity that her two older siblings had inherited, and seemed to
lack the strange semblance of maturity that the younger Hartford daughter
had as well. Delaney's smile returned; it seemed as though the two younger
women had lucked-out and grown to be more like their fathers than their
mothers. They hadn't been the first-born. They would never be Sailor Scouts.
They would never taste the blood of battle.
And, as the two hurricanes that were her best friends resumed their
erratic paths, the older woman sighed wistfully.
They were lucky, indeed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

She chuckled and tucked her arms behind her head, leaning against the
back of the couch as she watched the lean, long-legged auburn-haired woman
chase the dark-haired boy around the family room. Her icy eyes took in all
the goings-on as a blessing rather than an annoyance and, for a fleeting
moment, she found herself wishing for a family.
Her amused smile faded as she forced THAT thought from her mind.
"You COULD help, you know," growled the woman, pausing in her pursuits
to take a deep, shuddering breath. Then, she smacked her friend upside the
head with a large throw pillow. "Just because you haven't been back to Tokyo
too often since you left for Europe..."
"It was Paris, mon cherie," responded the other woman, her French
accent sounding odd along with her Japanese drawl. "And, besides, he's your
son, Alice."
The brown-eyed glare didn't fade. If anything, it intensified. "You
really don't have any children, do you?"
Her friend chuckled. "Oui."
"Not even an illegitimate one?"
Icy eyes widened in doubt as the dancer rose to her feet, gown of deep
red complimenting her milky skin as she placed her hands on the back of the
couch and 'looked' at her companion. "Don't you think that I'd KNOW if I got
pregnant?"
"You're Phoebe," retorted Alice with a toothy grin. "ANYTHING can
happen when there's a Phoebe around!"
Feigning hurt, the blue-haired woman flipped a braid of hair behind a
slender and stuck her dainty nose in the air. "Well, I'm offended!" she
snorted indignantly, crossing her arms under her ample bosom as she spoke.
"What would S--" She froze and the color slowly seeped from her cheeks.
"What would WHO think?" inquired her friend with the raise of a single
brown eyebrow. "Don't tell me that you have some sort of boyfriend that I
don't know about!"
A dark-headed child peeked out from around the wall dividing the
living area from the kitchen. Silence fell over the threesome as the
dramatic woman slumped back onto the couch and sighed, defeat. The little
boy took a wary step out from the next room to hear the impending response.
Phoebe folded her hands over her flat stomach, shrugging her
shoulders. "Sort of," she replied to her staring companion. "Not really a
BOYFRIEND, per say, but someone who I..."
"Ah-HA!" interrupted Alice, diving toward the kitchen doorway in all
her dress-clad splendor. Her son was caught off-guard as he was seized by
the waist and hauled unceremoniously toward the hallway, kicking all the
way.
The dancer held back a chuckle as she glanced at the odd sight. "Oh,
my..."
Grunting in effort, the auburn-haired one glared at her friend and
then back at the boy in her arms. "Come now, Nick, we are GOING to put that
tie on you if it kills me!"
With a whimper, the child finally gave up and let himself be led
toward his bedroom.
As the duo left her alone, Phoebe let out a long sigh and kicked her
shoeless feet onto the coffee table, the normal coloration returning to her
face as she did so. From around her neck, she picked up a small, heart-
shaped locket and flipped it open, staring at a tiny picture within. A sad
smile crossed her face as she caressed the tiny golden charm with a gentle
finger.
"You know what?" she asked the little photo. "As much as I miss both
you and Paris... It's really good to be home."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"This is like a bad dream come true!" whined the blonde girl with a
wrinkle of her nose. Her long black skirt softly caressed her long legs and
smoothed over round, flawless hips as she paced back and forth across the
kitchen of the large house. Every so often, she would glance at her watch
and then at the other, smaller girl who was seated comfortably at the oak
table. Each time the older girl glanced at her watch, she also sent a glare
in the direction of the younger girl. Every time she received a glare, the
younger girl just took a calm sip from her water bottle and smiled.
Finally, the one in the black skirt had had too much and thundered
toward the stairwell, bright copper eyes lowered in an angry glare. "WE'LL
BE LATE!" she called up the steps, her voice filled with annoyance and
frustration. "You KNOW how Auntie gets when we're late, too!"
A female voice, both low and patient, floated down from above. "Vesta,
be a dear and calm your sister's fried nerves before she storms off and
drives herself to Auntie's, will you?"
There was a chuckle coming from the same direction. "Besides, Uncle B
doesn't care when we're late!" quipped a man sweetly.
"But you know my sister DOES care," retorted the woman coolly, the
patience in her tone wearing thin.
"That's not the point, dear..."
"Yes it is, dear..."
The peaceful argument lowered to a point beyond hearing levels, and so
the black-skirted young woman smoothed her ruffled blue sweater and cast a
glance at the younger girl at the table. "Alright, Vesta," she told the
other, "chide away."
With a sweet smile and the cock of her head, the younger girl brushed
a long strand of brown hair from her perfectly aqua eyes and shrugged. "Why
would I do that?" she asked her sister innocently as she smoothed the fabric
of her knee-length white dress. "I'm nothing special as you are."
"Okay, enough with THAT speech," groaned the older one, hoisting
herself up onto the kitchen counter and crossing her legs as she gazed at
the brunette. Silence fell over the room as the two sisters, four years
apart, stared wordlessly at one another. It was eerily calm until, finally,
the younger one spoke up.
"You know I'm not jealous, Vera," she supplied with a sigh, capping
the bottle of water and pushing it aside as she rested her elbows atop the
table. "Jealousy doesn't become me, nor you." She shrugged. "I received
Mother's looks and Father's temperament. You received just the opposite."
A snort. The flip of a wave of shoulder-length tresses.
"Besides, you know what's coming after this party, don't you?" Slight
silence. "They love us enough to be open with us, but you're just running
from destiny."
Widening bronze eyes. A slight gasp.
Vesta wiped the smile from her face. She'd found the sore spot.
"You're just like Grandma Al, you know that?"
The blonde teen leapt off the counter like a shot, her temper flaring
as she raised an angry fist in the direction of her sibling. A skirt
rustled. Slipper-covered feet echoed on linoleum.
Suddenly, a rather average-looking woman with chin-length brown
tresses stepped between the two sisters and caught the flying fist. Her teal
eyes were angry and lowered into an accusing glare. Pink lips were pursed in
a disinterested scowl.
"You are EXACTLY like your grandmother," stated Haley Hartford
blandly, freeing the hand of her elder daughter as she spoke.
Vera wrinkled her nose, an injured expression passing across her face.
That didn't stop her mother. Few things could stop her mother.
"And, as smart as you are," she continued, leaving her spot as
peacemaker to cross the room and remove her purse from the far counter, "you
should know better than to pick fights." She sighed and shook her head.
"Brains and a temper like the dickens... What a combination!"
Raking a hand through his short gold-brown hair, her husband entered
the room from the stairwell, hands thrust into the pockets of his tuxedo.
"Good evening, girls," he greeted the two Hartford children with a slight
bow. "How are the worlds of pacifism and running from the truth?"
Vesta smiled and rested her small chin in her hands.
Vera scowled and tossed her head, slender arms folded rather
stubbornly across her chest.
Eric paused for a brief moment, copper eyes darting from one daughter
to another for a brief moment before finally turning his gaze toward his
wife.
Shaking her head, the woman rolled her eyes.
He shrugged. "Well then... Oookay..."
Silence.
"This IS a bad dream," muttered Vera under her breath. "And I'm LIVING
it."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

It's not every day that a fuku-clad woman with a giant Key Staff
waltzes in through the main entrance of a Shinto temple and is openly
greeted by the High Priestess of that same temple.
Aeris Chiba groaned as she was wrapped in a tight hug by the raven-
haired woman.
"I'm so glad that you decided to drive with us!" smiled Tara, her long
raven tresses sweeping the back of her knees as she stepped away from the
tall Guardian of Time. "It's not a long ride to the Palace, only ten minutes
or so, but I'm glad you came nonetheless!"
Colorful eyes rolled as the woman spoke. As long as she could
remember, Cherry Hill had been ten minutes away from Crystal Palace. It
hadn't changed overnight... She forced a smile. The Sailor Scout of the
Earth was sure getting strange in her older years.
Glancing around the living room at the temple, the woman's forced grin
faded away to a real one. Nothing had changed in the last few years, much to
her delight. It HAD been five years ago that she and Josh had taken their
trip to America, hadn't it? She sighed wistfully in remembrance. Those had
been five beautiful years...
"Miss Chiba!" called out the teen girl who sat, clad in a long red
dress, on the old tan couch. Her green eyes sparkled with mirth. "Mom really
missed seeing you around!" She snickered a bit. "She still thinks that you
and Uncle Josh are going to get mar--"
A cough echoed through the air, and the glare of an angry Sailor Scout
quickly followed suit. The girl silenced herself and folded her hands in her
lap.
Of course, it was the duty of the Time Guardian to remain dubious at
the comment. "Married?" she questioned of the rapidly paling Shrine
Mistress. "What's this I hear?"
"I have to go... Go..." Tara smiled hurriedly and bowed toward the
fuku-clad one. "Sebastian no doubt needs my help! I'll go...help...him!"
She dashed off, olive-green gown rushing about her legs as she slipped
through the door and down the hallway, leaving the woman and the girl alone
in the room.
With a smile, the teen pushed a long strand of deep brown hair from
her intense, forest-colored eyes. "She thinks she can tie you down, Miss
Chiba," she informed the woman.
"She's thought that for years, Ariel," responded Sailor Pluto with a
long sigh as she took up an armchair near the window. Her Time Staff faded
back into null-space as she slumped into the seat, silent.
There was a long pause, and neither spoke. There was really no reason
to, after all...
A nervous chuckle came from the girl, and Aeris turned her bright gaze
on the child. "I...I was wondering..." stammered Ariel with a slight smile
on her lips. "Well, uh, how soon IS the Eve, Miss Chiba?"
The Sailor Scout chuckled. "So then," she replied, her eyes flicking
to the half-closed door, "you already feel it."
Nodding her response, the teen's smile faded.
"Good for you then, Ariel," stated the Guardian of Time with a slight
hint of amusement in her tone. There was a lengthy pause before she spoke
again. "And, to set your fears aside, none of us are sure. Yet."
"Sure of what?" queried a new voice from the door.
Aeris' face lit up, as much as she tried to hide her delight.
Shaggy, though not long, brown tresses rimmed the man's face as he
strode into the room, wearing a classic black tuxedo with a bright red bow
tie. Purple eyes stared through heavy eyelids at the woman in the armchair.
She, however, was trying to advert her gaze for some strange reason.
He knew why. She was going to blush.
"Hi, Un--" The girl was silenced by a glance.
Striding over to the single perch near the window, he smiled gently
and reached down, taking the hand of the Guardian of Time. She didn't look
up. She didn't move. She didn't do ANYTHING.
He wrinkled his nose. Well, enough of THAT route...
"Oomph!" grunted Aeris Chiba as a good 160 pounds of man landed in her
short-skirted lap.
Leaning into his new...'seat'...Joshua Yuuichirou shot a triumphant
smile down at the Guardian of Time. "Given up on playing coy yet, deary?"
There was a flash of crimson light as the young woman disappeared.
Then, the light reappeared, bringing the woman with it. Shaking her
head chidingly, Aeris gazed down at the man now occupying HER place next to
the window. However, as hard as she was trying to seem mad, the glare
failed.
The love in her eyes was unmistakable.
Meanwhile, on the couch, Ariel Yoshiko had doubled over in laughter.
Tears streamed down pale cheeks as she slapped the arm of the couch. Her
guffaws were loud enough to hear around the block.
If ever the Guardian of Time had been confused, it was now. "What's
so--eek!"
Caught around the waist, she was dragged into a warm lap. All the
squirming in the world could not free her from the strong arms. So, she
didn't bother.
"I can see what's so funny," chuckled Tara from the doorway, her
impossibly tall husband hovering behind her lithe form as she watched Sailor
Pluto settle into the confining embrace.
"In all the years that this world has existed," grumbled Aeris in
annoyance, "a Sailor Pluto has NEVER been treated like this."
Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, his blue eyes smiling down at
the couple in the chair. "But, Aeris, aren't you only the second Pluto?"
Ariel began to laugh again, and the Scout could feel the man beneath
her begin to chuckle.
"That," she muttered, "is NOT the point."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

The white-marble beauty that was the Moon Palace echoed as three
voices united as one:
"WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"
There was a loud thumping from the top of the stairs, and the group in
the foyer sighed in unison. The first of this trio was a young woman, with
two long, silvery-pink pigtails flowing from two buns atop her head, nearly
brushing the floor. Beside her was another young woman, quite obviously of
the same age, her purely silver tresses pulled up into the same strange
hairstyle. She was dressed in the same clothes, and the same azure eyes
glanced out at the full Earth with the same sort of amazed expression...
They were clearly twins, nearly identical.
However, whereas the two teenaged twins were calm, the last member of
the party was pacing nervously. His once silver hair was nearly stark white,
quite a strange look for him, because such tresses clashed with his silver
tunic and billowy silver pants. Blue eyes, hidden behind bifocal glasses,
occasionally glared up the staircase, never seeing more than empty marble
steps. He wrinkled his nose.
"We haven't seen Ambriel in ten years," he lamented, the stress in his
voice almost unbearable for the two bun-headed teens to listen to. "And your
mother doesn't care!"
Sighing, the one with the purely silver tresses stepped away from the
wall and strode over to the man, laying a single hand on his shoulder.
"Poppa," she soothed, smiling slightly, "you've known her for millennia.
Give up on making her adhere to schedules."
The other teen chuckled. "Selene's right!" she chimed, grinning
widely. "Momma is NEVER on time!"
"I CAN be, if I want to!" called a voice from the top of the
stairwell, and three pairs of bright cerulean eyes glanced up at the sound.
A white gown, as pure and flawless as the shining stars of night, caressed
her smooth curves and flowed about her long legs, gathered at a high waist
to clutch her chest with its tight bodice. Golden trim rimmed the very top
of the strapless dress, color perfectly matching the bright moon sigil
perched on her brow. Long pigtails, colored bright pink, cascaded down from
two cone-shaped buns. And scarlet eyes gazed down at the trio through mused
bangs.
Unthinking, the single man bowed deeply. "Your Highness," he murmured,
eyes focused on the floor.
With a hearty chuckle, the Queen of the entire Solar System, Serenity
III, began her decent. "Spare me, Helios," she smiled at her husband,
brushing a strand of curled hair from her face. "I STILL hate bowing."
One of the girls, called Selene, giggled slightly. Her twin elbowed
her in the ribs, and it took only a moment for the silver-tressed girl to
downright turn on her sister. "Sere!" she hissed. "That HURT!"
Tossing her head haughtily, the other girl rolled blue eyes. "Puh-
lease, Sele, it didn't hurt at all!" She buffed her long pink fingernails on
her dress, which was plain white whereas her mother's was trimmed with gold.
"You're such a wuss!"
"Just because I prefer books to the treadmill," retorted her sister,
standing on her tiptoes to heighten her the three-inch difference between
sisters, "doesn't mean that I'm a wuss!"
'Sere' snorted and rolled her eyes. "Books?" she questioned. "Try
MANGA, Sele." She smiled condescendingly and lowered her eyes. "We both KNOW
that you're a total fangirl."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
The argument, as futile as it was, continued even as the High Queen of
the Solar System met up with her family. A high-heeled shoe clicked on the
marble floor in annoyance, but neither girl noticed their mother. They
continued fighting, eyes set in stony glares and pale faces both angered.
And Helios, the King of the Solar System, rubbed his brow. "I still
say that twins certainly do not run in MY side of the family, Maiden," he
sighed as he listened to his daughters argue.
Resting her hands on her ample hips, Serenity III--better known as
Reeny--wrinkled her nose. "Selene and Serenity," she commented, shaking her
head slowly. "Night and day incarnate." Then, she glanced at her husband,
brow furrowed. "So, you're saying that this is MY fault?"
Azure eyes immediately popped into a realm of unexplored wideness as
the young man became cognizant of his comment. "No, no, I didn't say THAT,"
he frantically insisted, waving his arms as he spoke. "I just meant that,
well... Elysionians don't have twins often..."
"Then explain the two sons of the Elysionian High Priests," retorted
the Queen, the ice in her voice unmistakable.
"Uhhh..." Helios chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. "You KNOW how
weird that woman is! It's not MY fault!"
"So you're blaming this on Abigail?"
"Sort of... It's Brice's fault too..."
"I see..."
"Maiden, you KNOW that I didn't mean it!"
"You did TOO! You ALWAYS blame it on me!"
A sniffle.
"Now, sweetie, we have to be in Tokyo in forty minutes..."
"You don't love me, do you?"
"WHAT? Of course I--"
"You don't!"
"Maiden..."
"WAAAAHHH!!"
And crying, arguing, and apologies echoed through the Palace of the
Moon.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"And that, my friends, is how you make pineapple upside-down cake."
The young man wiped his hands on a towel, smiling brightly at the group of
TV cameras that were pointed straight at him. Cobalt eyes sparkled. Brown,
almost black, tresses were blushed from a face. "Next week, Alice will be
back to cook, along with Elara--" he gestured to a girl, hardly in her
teens, who was perched on a stool nearby-- "to teach us how to make the
world famous Kino brownies." He smiled and pulled off his starch white
apron, revealing a black tuxedo with a navy-colored bow tie. "And, as my
last words today, happy birthday to the Queen of the Earth." He winked. "We
all love you, and I'll see you at the party!"
A man with shaggy purple tresses waved an arm. "And cut!" he
announced, walking onto the kitchen set as a throng of techies began to pull
up the various cords and cables strung through the make-shift room. "Great
episode today, Todd, but I still I can't wait till Alice gets back to doing
the work!"
Sighing, Todd Walker nodded and helped the girl called Elara off her
stool. "Neither can I," he drawled, running a hand through his hair. "But,
with the new restaurants opening in both Kyoto and Kobe, plus the big party
tonight--"
"Nobody has had time to even so much as breathe," echoed three voices,
and the young man smiled at the brunette girl beside him, then turning his
eyes to his wife and young son. Another young woman, with long navy tresses
pulled back in braids and a bright crimson ball gown, stood a bit away from
the rest, her smile gentle and...sad? Todd frowned--he'd never seen HER, the
chipper one, look the least bit melancholy. It was...odd...
The girl grinned widely and pranced over to her mother. "Everybody
said I looked awesome!" she prided herself, spinning around slightly in her
bright olive gown, its long skirt swirling about her long legs. "In fact, I
looked better than Daddy, or so said Mr. Hirozawa!"
"Well, THANKS, Shintano," sighed Alice, rolling her brown eyes even as
she grinned and forged hurt. "NOW my daughter has an ego."
Giving her a 'thumbs up' sign, the purple-haired man from before
grinned. "Any time, Ally!"
"And Auntie Pheebs!" Wordlessly, the teen pressed past her mother to
embrace the slender braided-one around the waist. Phoebe Urawa looked almost
shocked to have the teen seize her, but she smiled widely and smoothed the
shoulder-length waves of brown gently.
Todd smiled. "You know, Phoebe," he commented, hands in his pockets as
he watched the scene before him, "you WOULD make a very good mother if you
wanted to."
Sighing, the dramatic woman best known as the soldier of the sun shook
her head. "I don't think I was meant to be a mother," she shrugged, still
sharing an embrace with the Walker girl. "I think that I'm more meant to be
just a really good aunt to Elara and Nicky."
"And we like our aunt!" exclaimed the little, dark-haired boy,
clutching on to his mother's hand. Big blue eyes peered up at the woman
imploringly, and she gazed down at him, brushing a strand of auburn hair
from her face as she did so. The boy grinned. "But where's the uncle for
Aunt Phoebe?"
Both Alice and Phoebe froze in place, quickly exchanging words without
speaking as their eyes locked. Todd furrowed his brow; no matter how much he
loved his wife, there was always a little something left unanswered with
her...
"Come on," stressed the braid-headed one suddenly, wrenching her icy
gaze from her friend's as she seized the hand of Elara. "We'll be late for
the shin-dig at the palace."
Sighing, Alice shook her head and followed behind the duo, her
lavender gown rustling as she walked.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Calli!"
"Hang on!"
"But I NEED the duct tape if I'm going to hang this sign!"
"My God, Tita, use string or something!"
"Can I help?"
"No, Claude, you're too little."
"But Poppa said..."
"I DON'T CARE!"
The Grand Ballroom of Crystal Palace echoed with voices as three
children, the oldest only about sixteen but the youngest hardly in the
double-digits, rushed about. One, with long strawberry-blonde curls, bustled
about, taping vinyl tablecloths onto many long tables. Another, with dark
red tresses that barely brushed her chin, was carrying around one end of a
rather large paper sign, the other end dragging dangerously on the tile
floor as she paced the room. And the third...
"I WANNA HELP!" cried the little boy, his straight blond hair hanging
in his face as he sat, cross-legged, in the very epicenter of the ballroom.
His arms were folded over the chest of his tuxedo as he pouted.
Sighing, the oldest girl left a tablecloth untapped and paced across
the room to the child, crouching down carefully. She pushed her small, gold-
rimmed glasses up on her dainty nose before smoothing out her long, silver
dress and staring at the boy. "Is something wrong, Claude?"
He nodded but didn't say anything, tears streaming down his cheeks,
but remained silent.
Rolling hazel eyes, the red-haired girl, hardly a teen, shook her
head. "I know what the problem is, Calli," she sighed, standing on her
tiptoes as she attempted to hang the aforementioned sign across a single
wall of the ballroom. "Poppa was trying to get rid of him and told him to
help out, but he's too little." She shrugged and slipped the once-abandoned
roll of tape from her wrist, applying the sticky substance to the sign's
corner.
"Titania!" scolded the curly-haired teen, skirts rustling as she stood
up. "How could you pick on him like that?"
"I..." The boy called Claude sniffled. "I just wanted to help,
Callisto," he lamented, lower lip quivering as he glanced up at her with
puppy-dog eyes. "But Poppa's always SOOO busy..."
Callisto smiled sweetly down at her little brother and offered forth a
hand. "I know, I know," she soothed, helping him up. "It's Ma's birthday,
after all, so we HAVE to celebrate it..."
A silvery form which had, the entire time, been perched on the edge of
a small wet bar in one corner, rolled two green, eye-like orbs. "Give me a
BREAK," she--the voice gave away that it was truly a she--snorted in
annoyance. "You guys have to stop being so cute! You're not babies anymore!"
With a chuckle, the girl called Titania turned to glance at the form.
"You and Orb had ANOTHER fight?" she questioned cynically.
Blue eyes widened for a split second as the curly-haired blonde placed
her free hand on a hip. "It's not our place to ask!" she snapped in a
motherly tone, glaring daggers at the younger girl. "What happens with the
Guardians is their business, not ours!"
"And if any of the Guardians were Shakespearean scholars, it would be
your business, Callisto," smirked the shimmering silver. "But, yes, we did."
There was a short flash, and a calico cat suddenly appeared where the human-
shaped molten color had been. A silver star sparkled on her forehead. "And I
think we should go make up."
It was all Titania could do to keep from giggling.
Claude furrowed his little brow and tugged on his older sister's
dress. "What's so funny about them making up?" he asked innocently, batting
long eyelashes as his brown eyes sparkled.
Callisto pursed her lips. "Nothing..."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

A little girl, with long, straight tresses the color of molten gold,
sat crossed legged on the carpeting, playing with two small dolls. She
talked lovingly to each of them, her bright crimson eyes paying loving
attention to the details of the female doll's purple-and-yellow sailor fuku
as she made the other doll, this one male, wave a Time Staff around idly.
Two forms watched amusedly from the doorway. The younger of the
Earth's two Queens, Celeste Chiba, had restyled her hair long ago, but that
didn't keep blonde strands of hair from falling into her entertained green
eyes. Her companion, braid resting gingerly on a slender shoulder, was
actually smiling, a rare occurrence, her pink lips curving slightly upward.
"You know," commented Celeste in a low tone, "it wouldn't be so bad if
she was wearing her gown OVER that slip."
Ambriel, High Priestess of the Silver Moon, chuckled, and the child
glanced up from her play to see the two women watching her intently. She
dropped her dolls and hopped straight to her feet, clapping her hands
together excitedly. "Mama!" she exclaimed, already beginning to rush
forward.
The young Queen raised a single eyebrow, and the child froze. Seizing
the hem of her silken white slip, she curtseyed deeply, adverting eye
contact. "Your Highness, my Lady the Ambriel," she greeted in a low tone,
her tone pouring over with respect and reverence.
"And then..." prompted the blonde woman.
Raising her head in a single, snapping motion, the girl ran forward.
"Mama!" she exclaimed excitedly, burying her head in the adult's skirts.
With another little laugh, the angel-woman Ambriel stepped into the
bedroom, taking in the bright pinks and golds that were color scheme. Her
nose wrinkled. "How could you do this to the poor child?" she questioned,
her normal sternness melting away effortlessly. "I'd hang myself if I lived
in this room."
Rolling her green eyes, Celeste pushed her daughter away gently,
freeing her legs to follow the other woman. "Yes, well, Larissa LOVES her
room." She glanced at her slip-clad daughter. "Right?"
"Right!" chimed the girl with a grin.
"Well, it's amazing," commented Ambriel as she removed a long, golden
dress from its hanger and tossed it to her friend. "You actually married the
boy you once really disliked and, now, you torture the child you had with
him."
Aiding Larissa in putting on the gown, the blonde woman rolled her
eyes. "You're too hard on me!" she protested with a frown. "I try to be a
good mother and wife!"
The redhead smiled and plopped down in the single redwood rocking
chair that sat in one corner of the room. She nodded, her expression almost
turning sad as she glanced at her friend. "You do," she admitted softly,
resting her hands on her flat stomach as she spoke. "That's why I think I'm
so afraid of the coming Eve."
"Yes, well..." Celeste's own hands flew to her rounded stomach. "But
there will be new Galactic Sailors and a new Keeper to...keep, I suppose--"
she frowned at the pun-- "the world safe from harm."
Pink lips evened out into a stoic, pensive line. "And my child will be
the heiress to a whole new religion, once she is born." She shook her head,
pausing for a long moment. "I wish that the Silver Moon worked off of love
and not logic," she commented offhandedly, staring at her friend as thin
fingers pulled the child's zipper closed. "I envy what you have."
"And you still have a good five months to FIND someone to love,"
returned the older of the two adults, seizing a brush from her child's
nightstand and pulling it through the girl's blonde tresses. "You can still
seize the happiness you so WANT."
"But I won't find it," sighed the other woman, shaking her head as she
spoke. A few red hairs crept free of her braid and slipped into her gray
eyes. "That's not the way the Silver Moon works."
Tying a bright purple bow in her daughter's hair, the Keeper of the
Nebulae frowned slightly, the edges of her lips creasing. "Well, you never
know," she countered, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Ambriel pursed her lips. "I think," she responded, "I do."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'm sorry we can't come to the Queen's party," sighed the young
woman, brushing a strand of sky-blue hair from her face as she frowned, "but
LOOK at this paperwork!" Slender hands gestured to various piles of folders,
binders, and loose-leaf sheets of paper. "We have five THOUSAND applications
to the priestly academy. Can you IMAGINE?" She chuckled at herself, silver
eyes flaring with mirth. "And we entered another female into the ranks of
sixth priest today, and I think she really has potential."
Rubbing his chin, the eternally young man chuckled and leaned back in
his seat. "It's interesting to hear you talking so excitedly about Elysion,"
he commented, blue eyes focused on the holographic screen through the thin
lenses of his glasses. "So, how many females do we have now? Twenty?"
She raised a thin eyebrow. "WE?" she asked cupping her cheek in a
hand. "I thought you were ruling the whole Solar System now, 'Master.'" He
frowned, brow creasing, and she laughed, pursing her pink lips. "Twenty-
four, actually, but only three are sixth priest or higher." She shook her
head. "It's amazing that more women don't take it seriously."
"There's already one Abigail in the world, so I really don't think we
need twenty-three MORE," the man retorted coolly, the ice in his tone hiding
the amusement in his smile. "But how is Brice? And the boys?"
The High Priest of Elysion rolled her bright eyes. "Blythe and Carson
could cause ANYONE to gouge their eyes out," she sighed with a shake of her
head. "Those to fight more than your daughters!"
There was a crash from the next room, followed by yelling. He closed
his eyes. "I doubt that..."
"But Brice is fine." Abigail shrugged noncommittally. "I really wish
that we could come, you know," she stressed, staring straight at him. "The
one time I met the Queen, she was very sweet, Helios, and I think that I'd
like to wish her a happy birthday..."
"And you KNOW her daughter has a crush on Blythe," retorted the King
of the Solar System with a slight raise of his eyebrows. "And wouldn't that
put you in a good position?"
She groaned. "I don't want to hear this..."
"Your son marrying the heiress to the Earth, and then you'd rule both
Elysion AND Earth!" Helios leaned back in his seat, resting his hands behind
his head. "Wouldn't THAT do you well?"
Abigail wrinkled her nose. "And WHEN, exactly, does your shuttle get
to Earth?"
"Another ten minutes."
"So you'll have to turn off all electronic appliances soon, right?"
"Don't you even--"
The screen before him went black, and a chuckle was heard as all sound
connection was cut off.
There was ANOTHER crash from the next chamber, and voices carried
through the thin door between the two rooms.
"Now we can't finish our chess game!"
"I don't care, FANGIRL, because I was going to win!"
"You little brat! You say that to my fist!"
"Girls..."
"You wanna take ME?"
"You bet, BUTCH."
"Butch? This from the girl who said that a babe was cute?"
"EVERYBODY thinks Katsuragi Misato is hot! It's the best part of EVA!"
"What language are you talking?"
"Why you..."
Sighing, Helios closed his eyes. "To think," he moaned to himself,
"that I gave up Elysion for THIS..."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"We're home!" announced a loud voice, and--before her elder sister
could so much as scowl--Rhea Hartford had pulled off her heeled shoes and
started into the seeming palace that was really a house. Depositing items
like her purse, hairbrush, and car keys all along the tile hallway, she made
a beeline for the kitchen, yellow dress rustling all the way.
Delaney closed her purple eyes and calmly slipped off her own shoes,
sighing. "Sometimes," she confided in the burgundy-haired one beside her, "I
wonder if I'm related to that girl."
Sharon Chiba chortled at that comment, long legs carrying her quickly
down the hallway, her friend just steps behind. "I wonder the same thing
about Aeris and me," she returned, her alto lilt booming in her chest. She
pursed her lips thoughtfully, brows furrowed as she thought silently. "I
suppose," she continued in a more subdued tone, her manner proof positive
that she was related to the enigmatic Mistress of Time, "that it's one of
the main reasons I love my sister so much."
The raven-haired one rolled her bright eyes, sighing. "Please, Sharon,
you ALWAYS complain about Aeris," she reminded the younger woman in
annoyance.
"Maybe I do," retorted the taller woman, twirling a long strand of
burgundy hair around one of her slender fingers. "But, when push comes to
shove, I'm there for her."
Pushing open the door to the kitchen, Delaney smiled gently at her
friend, reaching up the six inches between them to ruffle already mused
hair. "You're strange," she praised, her violet eyes twinkling, "but you're
my best friend nonetheless."
"Yeah, RIGHT," chortled a voice, and the oldest of the trio turned to
see her younger sister sitting at the kitchen island, drowning some sort of
ice cream in chocolate syrup. "You should be in the market for a few new
friends!"
There were footfalls and the rustle of thick skirts, and--before the
last young woman could protest--the bowl of ice cream had disappeared from
under her nose.
Delaney smiled as the adult, her long, straight tresses pulled into a
high, elegant twist atop her head, dumped the entirety of the sweet into the
sink. Her gown, its violet color so very dark that it almost glittered black
in the light, swept over linoleum as she removed the jug of chocolate sauce
from her daughter's grasp and plopped it down upon the countertop. "All that
crap will rot your teeth, Rhea," scolded the Mistress of Saturn, resting her
fists on slender hips. "Your grandmother isn't here to spoil you, so I
expect you to eat better."
"And, besides, all that sugar and fat isn't good for your weak heart,"
scolded the older Hartford girl, immediately snapping into her 'mother-hen'
mode. With her hands, too, resting on her hips, she looked quite the twin of
her mother, and Sharon stifled a laugh.
Like Mistress, like soldier.
Pouting, Rhea crossed her arms over her small chest and tried her best
to look offended. "I'm EXTREMELY sick of fat-free frozen soy yogurt," she
informed the group in a sour tone. "I understand that I should be careful,
but WHY did my sister have to be allergic to milk?"
The offended expression that she'd screwed her face into, however,
brought a smile to all four female faces, and Hannah Hartford immediately
caved in, placing the miraculously unscathed bowl before the moping young
woman. "I suppose a LITTLE ice cream won't do too much damage," she sighed,
defeated, as she collapsed into a chair at the nearby table. "After all, if
you've really been good about sweets..."
"An angel," murmured Rhea through mouthfuls of her treat.
Her mother glanced at the duo leaning against the wall, one eyebrow
raised.
"An angel," they echoed solemnly, nodding.
"At least there's one around here," grumbled a brunette from the
doorway, taking no time in trudging into the kitchen and practically
throwing herself at the nearest seat. "Vera and Vesta were at it AGAIN,
today..." She shook her head, chin-length tresses brushing her face as she
did so. "Those two fight like cats and dogs, and I really don't know how to
stop them."
Chuckling slightly, Hannah cupped her chin in a hand. "And where, pray
tell, are my two favorite nieces?" she asked sweetly, her large purple eyes
staring directly at her younger sister. "I didn't hear them come in after
you."
Haley Hartford rolled her aqua eyes. "Eric decided that they should
sit in the car with him until they vow to get along with one another."
"Which means they'll never get along," quipped Rhea with a grin, ice
cream rimming her thin lips. "Right, Auntie?"
Delaney sighed and tossed her sister a napkin. "Pig," she muttered.
An ice-cream-covered tongue was stuck out in response.
Glancing down at her watch, the burgundy-haired beauty frowned. Her
dress, an azure color that rivaled even the awesome color of the sea,
creased as she crossed her long arms over her ample chest. "We're going to
be late," she scolded in her deep, rumbling voice, bright green eyes darting
about the kitchen. "Where IS that Brian man, anyway?"
The Mistress of Saturn laughed good-naturedly at her 'cousin.' The
annoyance was only mock, and it was that certain relaxing normality that she
had missed. Ever since the other Mistresses had..."departed" was the
preferred word...the house had been quiet. And then, once the college-bound
duo of Rhea and Sharon had left to live with her older daughter... It was a
big house, and lonely.
"That Brian man," sighed the blonde, striding into the kitchen, busily
straightening his purple bow tie, "is right here." He frowned, the little
tie crooked. "Hannah..." he whined with the wrinkle of his nose. "It's not
WORKing..."
Rolling her eyes, his wife stood and twisted his tie gently. It was
suddenly straight, causing the man to frown further. "You are incorrigible,"
she teased, touching her nose to his with a grin curving her lips.
Rhea stopped shoveling the ice cream into her mouth. Delaney smiled
wistfully, leaning back against the wall. Sharon murmured something that
sounded distinctively like 'cute.'
But Haley pushed away from the table, kicking her chair as she started
out the kitchen. "I'll see you two love birds at the Palace," she grumbled,
trudging out of the kitchen.
The blonde man laughed and pulled his wife further into his arms,
copper eyes following the younger woman out of the kitchen. "What's that all
about?" he questioned.
"You know Auntie Haley," grinned the ice cream eating Hartford girl,
liking her fingers. "She STILL hates mush, husband or not."
"I'll never understand her," stated Hannah, weaseling her way out of
her husband's grasp and starting for the front door. "She's just so
STRANGE."
Sharon shrugged. "Some would say the same about you or me or Rhea,"
she commented nonchalantly.
Raising an eyebrow, Delaney shot a look at her friend. "And me?" she
asked coyly.
The maroon-haired one patted her shorter friend on the head. "You're
just fine," she grinned. "Perfect."
The black-garbed woman laughed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I don't like surprises," he stated as he stood in front of the
mirror, eight eyes staring straight at him as he spoke. "I'll pick her up
from the conference and that's exactly what she'll say to me, mark my
words." He straightened his silver bow tie idly, checking and double-
checking his reflection to make sure he was flawlessly perfect. "I know her
too well."
A silver cat, brow alit with a golden star, cocked her head to one
side. Dark whiskers bristled a bit. "I don't--erm, 'do not'--know R--Your
Majesty," thought the animal aloud, studying her paws rather guiltily. "She
was awfully--I mean, she was 'VERY'--excited for her birthday this morning,
and she KNOWS you and her sis--the younger...Lesser?...Queen--were cooking
SOMETHING up." She wrinkled her nose. "Right?"
"But, then AGAIN," argued a cat with fur of a green-black tint with
just a HINT of annoyance in her voice, "she is still a very stubborn woman
when she gets it in to her head to be."
Another small animal, tan in color, shook its head. "I disagree," came
the deep reply as the only male cat in the group glanced up at the tall,
redheaded man. "Stubborn or not, she always aims to please, so perhaps she
would allow this from His Majesty."
The last of the cats, a rather chubby black animal with a bright
silver moon perched upon its brow, rolled her blue eyes. "WHATEVER,
Galileo," she responded to the tan one's commentary. "You KNOW how Lyra
gets, and she's not going to let Richard get away with it."
Three pairs of bright, slanted cat's eyes--green, lavender, and
crimson respectively--turned to gape at the last animal. She was lounging
rather languidly on the windowsill in the royal dressing room, whereas her
siblings were all sitting in a row at the foot of the silvery mirror. Her
azure eyes were half-closed, her paws limply hanging off the sill, and it
would have taken an expert to realize that the animal was not asleep.
But the trio of Guardian Cats on the floor realized it.
Sighing, the Guardian of the Silver Moon sat up and yawned, baring her
long, white fangs. "Go ahead," drawled she, the look on her face one of
complete, utter, and TOTAL annoyance, "yell at me." Silence ensued. "No,
really," she insisted, gazing across the rough six feet that separated her
from the others. "I mean REALLY scold me." Upon getting no reply, she rolled
her eyes once again. "Come ON, you guys! I used the King and Queen's REAL
names! I used a contraction! And I didn't beg pardon in time!"
The green-furred cat hung her head. "I do not BELIEVE that she was
part of the same litter we were," Ara muttered in the rough direction of her
two siblings.
"I sorta--I mean, I suppose--that she could be related to the rest of
us," blundered the silver one, gently biting the very tip of her pink
tongue. "I have the same kinds of trouble with talking so very grown-up..."
She bristled at her own words. "That is to say, I also find myself searching
for the correct words with which to grace Their Majesties."
Lavender and red eyes closed in exasperation at the same exact
moments. Blue orbs just rolled.
But the Elder King of the Earth chuckled, bending down in his tuxedo-
clad splendor to scratch behind the ears of the silver Guardian. "I don't
care how you talk to me," he assured the animal, cerulean eyes compassionate
behind silver-rimmed glasses. "I consider you a friend, and my friends say
whatever they wish to say to me."
"Whether you like it or not, right Rich?" questioned the black animal
from her nearby perch.
Richard Umino straightened up, glancing right at Carina. "I can tell
that you grew up with both the Ambriel and with Serenity," he chuckled, the
amusement in his voice not at all lost on the Guardians. "You have that
free-spirited attitude."
"Attitude PROBLEM," groused the Guardian of Pluto through her gritted
teeth. "When the next Ambriel is born, she's going to have QUITE the bad
mouth."
"Blah blippity blah," retorted Carina, wrinkling her pink nose. "At
least MY charge is going to GIVE her position an heiress!"
The King and the other two cats chuckled.
But Ara scowled. "That is NOT funny in the least," she pointed out
angrily. "If Aeris does not present an heiress to the throne of Pluto, do
you KNOW the trouble it could cause?" No one presented an answer in the mere
second she was silent, so she continued. "Larissa cannot very well be fourth
in line for the throne of Earth, tenth in line for the throne of the Solar
System, *AND* the Heiress to Pluto!" She shot an extremely dirty look at her
youngest, dark-furred sister. "If Their Majesties Serenity and Helios died
with their heirs, and if Their Elder Majesties Richard and Lyra died with
THEIR heirs--"
"Don't you just feel the love in this room?" questioned the
aforementioned man sourly.
"AND if Their Lesser Majesties Peter and Celeste died along with
Aeris, then it would leave Larissa in quite a position!" The Guardian of
Pluto beamed proudly. "She would be the Keeper, the Guardian of Time, The
Elder AND Lesser Queen of the Earth, the Queen of the Solar System, *AND*
the leader of the coming Sailor Soldiers!"
Cassiopeia held back a chuckle, her bright eyes glittering in mirth.
"Never mind the fact that Ambriel and her coming daughter are somewhere in
that twisted line of hierarchy before Larissa," she snorted, glancing
innocently at the ceiling.
Before the green cat could add a rant or three to the goings-on,
Richard Umino stepped in. "Now, that's enough," he scolded, as though he was
talking to a naughty child. "Ara, if a tragedy like that WERE to strike,
I'm certain that the Galactic Sailors and their children would keep an eye
on things and smooth the cracks in our pathetic government." He chuckled a
bit to himself. "Or, if worse came to worse, our friend Delaney would just
'Death Reborn Revolute' us all into the next millennium."
Galileo frowned. "That's a pretty dark joke to come from you,
Majesty," he commented tersely.
"I know it is, but I couldn't restrain myself." Resting his hands on
his hips, he glared at the trio of cats who were NOT going on and on about
killing half of the royalty in the world. "And, as for the REST of you--"
Ara couldn't even BEGIN to hide her complacent smirk.
"--do NOT get your sister started!"
And, as the green one scowled and the other three laughed, he tossed
his cape and strode quickly from the dressing room.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"La la la!"
She couldn't mask the grimace that crossed her face as she watched the
crimson-garbed dancer sway about the ballroom.
"Never give up! Ganbaru wa!"
The equally tall brunette woman beside her, who was wearing a rather
plain orange dress, raised a single eyebrow. "Lemme guess," she stressed in
her normal, slightly sideways fashion. "Phoebe is upset about something
and--instead of TALKING it out--she's drowning her woes in Triple Sect."
"Kono shoubu ni kaketeru no!"
"Close," responded the auburn-haired one, calmly taking a sip of her
white wine. "She's drowning her woes in vodka this time."
"Ukiuki tokimeku no!"
Another woman, this one with the long raven tresses of a Japanese
priestess, strode up to the duo. Her light green gown was plain--not as
plain as that of the brunette beside her, but certainly not as extravagant
as the silken navy gown of the one with the auburn waves or as the sequined,
sparkling cinnamon outfit of the braid-headed one. Still, she was not plain
in the least, what with her slightly slanted olive-colored eyes or her long
hair that nearly shone violet in the bright lights of the ballroom. And the
smile on her face was all but plain as she stared at the dancing, drinking
mass she called a friend.
"Still," she added to the discussion, "why would our dear friend drink
herself silly instead of telling some of her closest companions?" She sighed
wistfully. "It has been SO long since we were all together."
"Shishunki eiji!"
Haley Hartford grunted. "Dry UP, Tara," she shot, annoyed. "She's
ALWAYS been like this."
"She doesn't EVER talk to us," agreed Alice Walker with a solemn nod.
"Why would she want US when she has Paris and the movies?"
"Kakikae OK!"
Tara Yoshiko's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Wait," she
pushed into the scathing rebuke, lost to her friends' comments. "Are you
saying that Phoebe Urawa--THE Phoebe Urawa of stage and screen--has a
drinking problem?"
"Koi suru purofiiru!"
A sort of milky chuckle floated through the air. "I don't think that's
what she's saying at all, really," put in the Queen of the Solar System, her
bright red eyes glistening as she stood slightly behind her troupe of fellow
Galactic Sailors. "What she's saying is that Phoebe has a problem confiding
in us." She shook her head as the blue-braided one began to scream-sing 'The
Rainbow Connection.' "I think she always did."
"IS IT THE SWEET SOUND THAT CALLS THE YOUNG SAILORS?"
"But what do you do?" questioned a deep, stern voice, and none of the
quintet of Scouts had to turn around to know that the Guardian of Time was
beside them, sipping daintily from a teacup of Sakae. "You can't very well
scold her, and you can't very well force her to open up..."
"So we join in?" questioned a still befuddled Tara, blinking. The
other four women glanced amusedly at her, and she wrinkled her tanned nose.
"Well, I'm certainly lost!"
There was a chortle coming not from the group. "She's ALWAYS been
lost," added in a sixth voice as Celeste Chiba strode up to the group, armed
with a can of diet soda where the others had various alcoholic beverages.
She was flanked by her husband on one side and the Angel of the Moon, the
Ambriel of the Silver Moon Kingdom, on the other. Tagging reluctantly along
was a tiny blonde girl who was very much the clone of her mother. "It's
nothing all that new."
"THE VOICE MIGHT BE ONE IN THE SAME!"
"And so her Lesser Highness graces us," murmured Sailor Pluto half-
heartedly, taking another swig of her drink. "I see you and Peter are
getting along again?"
The young man, dressed in a black tuxedo trimmed with crimson, scowled
at his sister. "What ARE you drinking?" he questioned warily as she gulped
down another mouthful of her beverage. "Don't tell me its Sakae AGAIN."
Brushing a strand of hair from her colorful eyes, the woman neither
confirmed or denied the accusation.
"I'VE HEARD IT TOO MANY TIMES TO DENY IT!"
"We're all together once again," Ambriel stated, her smooth voice
drifting and echoing across the room as she smiled at the cluster of
Galactic Sailors. "It's been far too long."
"It has," echoed the navy-garbed woman softly, sending a sweet glance
toward the braided drunk. "And some of us have changed."
"IT'S SOMETHING THAT I'M SU'POSED TO BE!"
The Queen of the Solar System glanced at the woman who could be called
her child and sighed, a wistful smile crossing her face. "But we change for
the better, do we not?" she asked rhetorically, brushing her own bangs with
a hand, fingers tracing gently over the golden moon sigil upon her brow.
"It's for the best and the worse, and for the children."
"AND SOMEDAY I'LL FIND IT! THE RAINBOW CONNECTION!"
All nine of the warriors, the now adult soldiers, glanced across the
room to where a cluster of boys and girls were playing and talking. There
was a tall, thin teen, her unyielding green eyes sparkling as she brushed
dark brown tresses from her face. Beside her was a curly-haired teen, her
eyes rimmed with small glasses and nose wrinkling as she laughed. Attached
to this young woman's legs was a little boy with straight blonde tresses,
clad in a tuxedo.
Only a few feet away stood a girl with straight, chin-length red
tresses, talking softly with a tall brunette girl and a shorter, green-
gowned girl. There were all about the same age, and they smiled and laughed
together as though they had been friends forever.
A boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes sat cross-legged on the
ballroom floor, building a castle out of Legos.
Seated at a small, circular table nearby were three young women. Two
were garbed in the traditional white gowns of the Gold Moon kingdom, and
their tresses were pulled into the well-known style that every moon
princess, past and present, had worn. The third young woman, slightly older
than the others, brushed a blonde hair from her eyes and smiled as she
talked with her friends.
"The heirs and heiresses," breathed the Shinto woman, pursing her lips
nervously. "They're all here, aren't they?"
Serenity, known as Reeny, nodded impassively. "Moon, Mars, Jupiter,
Venus, Uranus, Neptune..." She sighed. "And, of course, there is already
Delaney..."
"And not all of them know," stated Haley blandly, sipping her
margarita from a straw. Several confused glances floated her way, and she
shrugged. "What? Have you ever MET Vesta?" she questioned quickly, throwing
up her hands. "She's got the whole 'resentment of destiny' thing down
already and I certainly don't want to burst her bubble!"
There were a few chuckles.
"THE LOVERS, THE DREAMERS, AND ME!"
Just then, a young guard popped his head into the doorway. "The Queen
and King have arrived!" he announced. "They'll be here any minute!"
"Then we've got to hide!" yelped Reeny, grabbing Ambriel and Tara by
the wrist and pulling them toward a corner of the room."
Alice sighed and shook her head. "And I'll go knock some sense into
Phoebe," she volunteered, starting toward the drunken woman.
"You know," commented Haley with a wrinkle of her nose, "I thought we
were more dignified than THIS."
Tara laughed aloud. "Never."
And the room went dark.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"This is BORING."
"Shut UP, would you? You've been belly-aching this entire time, and
it's not getting you anywhere!"
"But why do we have to WATCH? I've got a nice warm bed waiting for
me!"
Smack!
"Okay, right... They're the Galactic Sailors, they're our children,
yeah..."
Sigh.
"They've really succeeded. They're adults, they're to be mistresses."
"They've given the world heirs."
A pause. Another sigh.
"It's amazing how fast these children have grown."
"All that's left is an heir to Pluto and an heir to Mercury."
"And Sharon can fulfill the role of Plutonian heir if she must."
Confused looks.
"What? Don't you think that I would have set up a clause like that? I
don't want to see everything saddled on my only granddaughter!"
A chuckle.
"That's right--Larissa is your granddaughter too, isn't she?"
"Well, duh!"
Wallop.
"Ouch! Sets, cut it OUT!"
"Shh... She's coming."
"She hates surprises."
"I don't believe that my daughter got drunk..."
Another chuckle.
"Hey, Michi, it reminds me of the time that there was that Christmas
party and--"
CLOBBER!
"Ow ow ow! Come ON, I was just kidding."
Laughter.
"And you shut up, Pluto boy. Don't think I won't kick the shit out of
you."
Guffaws.
"You're toast!"
Pounce! A scuffle.
Sigh.
"And I thought this would be easier than when we were Mistresses."
"Nothing is ever easy."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I don't like surprises," she muttered irritably, her footfalls
echoing on marble as she trudged down the hall. A small nose wrinkled.
A hand ran through long brown-blonde curls. A sigh...
Her companion, a tall man with dark red hair and calm blue eyes,
shook his head to himself. "I TOLD the cats that you'd say that," he
informed the young woman as he led her by the hand. "They didn't
believe me."
She suppressed a chuckle. "You mean to say that you discussed
your plans with my sister AND the Guardian Cats?" she gaped, amusement
trilling in her tone. "Richard, I am impressed! Do the children know
about this?"
The Elder King of the Earth smirked complacently. When his wife
was impressed, she was really, truly IMPRESSED. "Callisto was
orchestrating most of it," he admitted, glancing down at the short,
blindfolded woman. "Between her and Celeste, all things are possible."
"Venus and the Keeper," mumbled the Queen to herself, lips
pursed. "Just as it was in the past."
Sighing slightly, the eternally young man tightened his grip on
his wife's hand. "You mustn't worry so much about Callisto," he
chided, his voice cheery and hiding his overlying concern. "She's
sixteen, and she's quite a strong girl. She'll be able to save the
world."
A nose wrinkled. "And the others?' she questioned icily, free
hand freeing her angry chestnut eyes from the blindfold. She glared up
at the taller man, her glower as terrifying as if she were twenty feet
tall. "What about the other girls, Richard?" she growled, her inquiry
hardly rhetorical. "Larissa is five. Elara and Vesta are fourteen.
And the Eve is in less than a year." The coldness in her tone was
indescribable.
"Today," returned the King, trying his hardest not to seem as
upset as he was slowly becoming, "let's focus on happiness and your
42nd birthday."
Lyra Star Umino scowled, her blonde eyebrows knitting together.
"I'm THAT old?" she questioned dryly, allowing herself to once again
be led down the hallway toward a pair of enormous marble doors. Seeing
a smirk cross her husband's face, she playfully smacked him in the
stomach. "It's not like you're much younger!" she rebuked him, resting
her free hand on a slender hip. "You're 46 this year, right?"
"But I still have my looks," he retorted evenly, not slowing in
his steps. "Unlike SOME wrinkled old women I know."
"WRINKLED OLD WOMEN?!" She reared back, her eyes widening.
"Dammit, Richard, you and I BOTH know that Sailor Soldiers don't age!"
But he completely ignored her and threw open the two mighty
marble doors.
"SURPRISE!"
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Here comes the party!"
A grin.
"Mamo-chan no party! Demo Engo..."
A roll of blue eyes.
"Har har har, Sere."
A puzzled frown.
"I don't get it."
"Be quiet."
Wallop!
"EOWCH! Sets, just 'cause I didn't hang out around Tokyo when I
was in junior high doesn't make me stupid!"
Sigh.
"I'm sorry. I'm just depressed."
Pause, silence.
"About loosing the children?"
The clasp of a hand.
"About Aeris being unhappy. About Phoebe being afraid. About
Lyra getting old."
"Shouldn't that be Mina's department?"
The tug of a pigtail.
"Hey! Raye, what was THAT for?"
"Just making sure that your meatballs were on straight!"
A chuckle.
"Do you EVER change?"
The shake of a head.
"Not often. None of us do."
More silence.
"The winds of change..."
"The seas are restless..."
"You two and your damned elements."
WHACK! SLUG!
"Owwie! Leets, they're hitting me!"
"And you don't deserve it?"
A frown.
"Stop being right."
The uneasy restlessness passing over the skies.
"I miss them."
A hand raked through blue hair. The pursing of a raven-tressed
Shinto's lips. A brunette leaning against her one true love. A blonde
cupping her chin in a hand. Short, sandy locks blowing in a light
wind. Aquamarine waves hiding the tears of blue eyes. The sigh of a
green-haired woman.
The slight smile of a Queen.
"And so do I."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother... HICCUP!"
High-heeled shoes echoed on marble as she dragged the woman by
the wrist. Drunken singing endlessly cascaded in waves over, under,
and across the duo as they trudged down the hall. Vodka occasionally
splashed out of a small cup and splattered on the floor.
"I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed!"
The woman who was in control of her smashed friend brushed a
strand of hair from her brown eyes. Inwardly, she was chuckling at the
strange irony of her companion's singing choice.
Outwardly, she was scowling and grunting, trying to find a
secluded place to slap some sense into her friend.
"I'm your Hell, I'm your dream, I'm all that's in between!"
Throwing open what seemed to be the fiftieth door in the great
marble hallway, she dragged both herself and the drunken one into what
appeared to be a small tea room. Plush couches and dainty tables meant
to serve watercress sandwiches were tucked into each nook and cranny,
giving a certain pristine look to the place.
It was the best she could very well do.
"You know you wouldn't have it any other way!" Ice blue eyes
seemed to dart back and forth as the young woman took a long swing of
her drink. "Did da like me thsinging, Alithse?"
The auburn-haired woman took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
Slowly, calmly, she unclenched one of her fists and brought one hand
slowly into the air.
SLAP!
"Ouch!" yelped the braid-headed one, immediately doubling over
in pain. One hand was clutched to a large, swelling red mark on her
left cheek, and salty tears were trailing down her pale face. "What
in the name of GOD was THAT for?"
And it was at that precise moment that Alice Aurora Walker
broke down.
"Fuck it all, Phoebe, you know EXACTLY what that's for!" she
swore, the hate in her eyes both harsh and unforgiving. "Just cut all
this shit out and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you!" She gulped
back tears. "I'm still Alice, dammit! I'm still your best-fucking-
friend!"
The navy-haired one stared at her friend.
Her friend glared back.
There was silence.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"SURPRISE!"
She jumped back, nearly tripping over the hem of her gown as the
room flared to life. Lights lit each nook and cranny of the Royal
Ballroom, and the unreal glow lit her face. People, other human
beings, filled the room; people who she would call friends, people she
would call children, people she would call destined, people she would
call her beloved.
And they began to sing.
"Happy birthday to you..."
Her footfalls were shaky, actually shaky, as she strode toward
the enormous cake in the center of the room. It nearly stretched to
her height of five feet, and the silky, white frosting and almost
unreal pink trim made it all the more mouthwatering.
She inwardly cursed Alice Walker. That woman KNEW she was on a
diet.
"Happy birthday to you..."
Still, she managed to smile and hold back the tears of joy that
flooded her eyes. Her gown, a precisely silver dress with a rope-like
trim of white, crimson, and gold, swept her ankles as she stepped
toward the cake. Her brown eyes glanced about the room, focusing on
adult and child alike, silently thanking everyone.
"Happy birthday, dear Lyra..."
She didn't even miss a step when she realized that both Alice
and Phoebe were missing, but her certainty wavered. Where could they
be? The former woman's two children and annoying husband were both
present, so it wasn't as though she'd up and left. But, on second
thought, the braided goofball had ALWAYS followed the lead of her
older friend.
Her brow furrowed, and she could hardly repress the urge to rake
a hand through her curls. They were missing. On her birthday. And that
made HER miss THEM.
But she forced that out of her mind.
"Happy birthday to you!"
Picking up a knife that had been left beside the birthday cake,
she cut herself a very, VERY thin slice and plopped it onto a plate.
The sweet smell of pure chocolate wafted into her nostrils.
Alice was a walking dead-woman.
Her audience, could they be called that, began to clap
excitedly. She smiled a second time and dipped a finger into the
thick, fluffy frosting, licking it carefully off the tip. It was only
a moment before her husband strode up beside her, a hand gently
slipping around her waist for an embrace.
"Do you still hate surprises, love?" Richard asked softly as all
her friends still clapped or, in the select case of one pink-haired
Queen, hooted and hollered.
She reached up and, still grinning, wiped the remaining icing
on her destined's nose. He frowned slightly at her antics, a bit
confused.
"You may be the most INCREDIBLE man I've ever met," she replied
coyly, "but I still do."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

The silence was almost tangible. It was that kind of heavy,
forbidding silence that she'd always been most afraid of. Sometimes,
the only reason she was so loud...so dramatic...was to wash over the
silence.
A brown-eyed glare didn't waver as she fingered the red mark on
her cheek. It ached something dreadful, hurting more than any wound
she'd ever sustained from being a Sailor Soldier. Salty tears,
forbidden tears, coursed down her face and eventually dripped off her
chin.
She let them.
"You want to know what's wrong?" she whispered, returning the
intense glower in kind, her icy eyes pushing away the tears and
replacing them with a certain kind of fearlessness. "Well, I'll tell
you." She took her hand away from the slap mark and took a deep
breath.
Her 'best-fucking-friend' stared back.
Time stood still. Not a word was exchanged.
Fist clenched at sides. A glare of chestnut began to soften.
Tears halted.
And then, like so many panes of glass, the silence was
shattered.
"God, Alice, isn't it obvious?" The scathing question bit at the
air, slicing through the delicate quiet. "Can't you see that I'm a
failure?" Phoebe's icy scowl had yet to waver, and those foreboding,
light-blue eyes were relentless in trying to read the expression of
the other woman.
But a mask, a soldier's mask, was in the place of true feeling.
A façade, the façade of a seasoned warrior, took the position of
caring and concern.
And she couldn't penetrate that with anything beyond her words.
She was an actress, though, the Queen of Screen and Stage. And
that could either make or break the goings on.
In theory, it would break them.
"For twenty-five years," she continued irritably, the level of
cold hatred in her voice neither raising or falling, "I have been
running around the world like I was still a little kid." She took
another deep breath, tears suddenly nipping at her eyes. What was
this? She was supposed to control the situation! She was supposed to
be the Queen of Fake Emotions! She was the dramatic one! She was an
actress!
Alice took a wary step forward, reaching out a hand. For the
first time, the stubborn, iron resolve that was the determination of
a Sailor Scout cracked. A gentle, caring gaze replaced the stern
stare. "Pheebs..."
But the braid-headed one wrenched away from her friend's soft
hand, backing herself into the closed door. "Don't touch me!" she
shrieked, shutting her eyes to hold back the tears. "I don't deserve
the sympathy of the real Galactic Sailors!"
"You can't do this to yourself," whispered the auburn-haired
one, already wide-eyed from the sudden show of terror. "You can't
think that you're such a failure..."
The absolutely menacing glower of a loathing woman returned,
the orbs of ice lowered to slits. "You can damn well say that," shot
back Phoebe coolly, her will and flint returning to the place where a
strange sort of fear used to be. "In fact, it does you GOOD to say
that!" She brushed a strand of loose hair from her face. "You've
found your shitty destiny, Alice... You've got your heiress... You've
even got your duo of kids in your fucking house with your two cars,
three TV sets, and microwave!"
Tears welled up in the older woman's eyes as she slowly took a
step back, one hand touching her heart, as though she'd just been
violated. Her parched pink lips were pursed, but the lower one was
just hardly quivering.
The dams were going to burst.
"And then," continued the angered thespian, her tone softening
slightly and gaining a touch of regret, "there's me." She gulped, but
a tear escaped and rolled down her pale cheek. "Look at me, Alice,"
she croaked, trying desperately to clutch onto the last remaining bit
of strength she had. "I have no destiny..." She took in a trembling
breath, the gasp echoing through the room. "I have no heiress to
Mercury..." Slowly, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm just
a world-famous dyke who acts like a two-year-old..."
As soon as the last sentence escaped Phoebe's lips,
enlightenment mentally slapped the auburn-haired one across the face.
All signs of tears and melancholy faded away to amazement as she
gaped at the slender, motionless woman. A tongue snaked across dry
lips as she considered what had been said.
And there wasn't all too much to consider.
"Is that what this is all about?" questioned Alice Walker
softly, running a single finger along the side-seam of her long navy
gown. "Is this about you being a lesbian, Phoebe?"
The actress nodded slightly. Then, she frowned and shook her
head, eyes still closed.
Then, just as anyone would have expected her to do at the tender
age of seventeen, she sprang alive. Her already-clenched fists pounded
on the smooth wood of the door before she began to pace nervously
across the room... Her hands were in constant motion, though she
didn't talk, moving at the approximate rate that her mind was going.
The other one smiled.
It was Phoebe, alright.
"I don't KNOW what it's about!" admitted the animated one
frantically, her face contorting in strange ways, as though each
thought crossing her mid brought a new grimace to her features. "It's
about me not having an heir. It's about me not being in love. It's
about..." She froze, the answer bringing her entire form to a halt.
Alice stared.
And the blue-haired one's face fell. "It's about the fact that
I never told the others," she breathed, twenty-five year's worth of
logic finally coming together like so many pieces of a picture puzzle.
A frown crossed her crimson lips as she smoothed the soft fabric of
her dress. "I left for America right after your graduation," she
whispered thoughtfully, glancing at her friend across the room rather
guiltily. "And then I came back, and left for Europe right after
Christmas time, and I--"
"--haven't been back since," they finished together, a slightly
wistful smile crossing her face. Silence, a strange yet sweet, washed
over the both of them.
Then, sighing, the braided one threw herself onto one of the
couches, kicking her legs up on an arm. "Oh well," she sighed, closing
her eyes as she spoke. "At least I have time to sober up before I tell
them, no?"
Alice blinked, both shocked and confused. "Sober up?" she
questioned, starting. "You mean that wasn't all an act?"
"Mon amie, there are can-can dancers kicking my frontal lobe,"
she responded, tucking her hands behind her head as she spoke. "No
act is THAT painful."
"You never cease to amaze me," smiled the auburn-haired one,
slowly sinking into a chair.
One ice-blue eye cracked open. "Frankly," retorted the Parisian
Japanese woman, "I amaze me, too."
* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I've never understood that woman," sighed the tall Shinto,
taking a slightly apprehensive sip of her white wine. Her olive eyes
were focused on the grandeur mural that was stretched across the
ceiling, seeming to taking in every last detail of the Senshi whose
faces and powers spread across it. If one paid enough attention, it
was possible to see that it was the tale of the original Sailor
Senshi, their images forever immortalized in paint over wood.
But Tara was not so much paying attention to story of those
soldiers as she was to a smaller panel in the very center.
In the center of the picture were the likenesses of six young
girls.
Each girl was, on her accord, quite unique. They were all about
the same age--perhaps four, perhaps five, perhaps a bit older--and
each had a tiny symbol upon her brow. All the symbols were different,
as original as the child they stood for, and they seemed to glitter
in the room's bright lights.
A black-haired one with an Earth.
A curly-haired blonde with a silver star.
A blue-braided child with a crimson sun.
An auburn-waved girl with a flag-like wave of light.
A brunette with a comet.
And, in the center of those five, a pink-bunned Princess with a
crescent moon.
Below the first-ever portrait of the six Galactic Sailors were
three words, scripted in a strange color of black so impossibly dark
that words failed description. It seemed to be so eerily ebony that it
GLOWED.
"For the children."
"I mean," continued the woman, still staring at the sextet in
the center of the ceiling, "I don't think she wanted us to understand
her, but I always liked to pretend that I knew what was going on."
Setting her empty margarita glass on the blue-clothed table,
the slender brunette let out a long sigh. "Let's face it," she
drawled in her strangely languid manner, her voice infliction lacking
all emotion. "She's never been completely honest with us." She tucked
her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair, glancing
upward and a small painted panel of Sailors Neptune and Uranus' last
touch before losing their Star Seeds. For a moment, a slight burst of
empathy flashed into her aqua eyes, but the mask of a soldier covered
it all and that glimmer was gone in a heartbeat. "I always liked to
think that we were all as close as we were SUPPOSED to be," she
continued, her gaze fluttering down from above to rest upon the faces
of her two companions, "but I don't think that ANY of us got too
close."
"I think we did," retorted the last woman, glancing across the
room toward the Elder Queen of the Earth. Her red eyes sparkled with a
strange sort of warm sadness as she watched the short blonde smile at
her now-taller golden-tressed sister. "We didn't want to, but we
did." She turned back to her friends, brushing a strand of curled
pink hair from her face as she did so.
Haley wrinkled her nose. Tara cocked an eyebrow.
And the woman once known as Reeny, the woman now the sovereign
Queen of the Solar System, chuckled slightly. "We all tried to
protect ourselves," she pressed on, watching for the telltale signs of
breaking façades, "but it never worked." She shook her head, smile
becoming wistful. "We fell in a strange sort of love with one another,
and we're just now realizing that we gave ourselves away without ever
getting something in return."
A slight, sad smile. A befuddled, but understanding, nod.
"In a way, I think we're jealous of Phoebe." Reeny sighed and
chewed reflectively on her lower lip, glancing upward. "She was able
to protect herself from the rest of us. She used her uniquely thick
skin to hide the real Phoebe from everyone else." She licked her l
ips, as though her pink tongue was searching for words her mind
couldn't find. "And I think that's part of why we're worried." Her
crimson eyes roamed over the winged form of Eternal Sailor Moon. "We
can't tell if this is real or not."
Silence.
"Well, I'm not certain myself," sighed Celeste, having long ago
abandoned her Diet Coke for a large cup of skim milk. "Frankly, I
think that there's something wrong with that woman."
The curly-haired woman across from her poked a large square of
cake with her fork, saying nothing. Her chestnut eyes were full of
concern and worry, an emotion she was oft apt to feel. She had, years
before, abandoned the stark policy of hiding emotions, and she'd
wished her two daughters and little sister would do the same thing.
However...
However, she told herself silently, glancing occasionally
upward at the impassive expression of her younger sister, all three
were soldiers. They were born to hide behind masks, to abandon
emotion, and they had certainly learned quickly how to do so. Even
little Larissa, her crimson eyes so sweet and innocent, could turn
cold in the blink of an eye.
"Mommy has a kitty!" exclaimed the little girl, suddenly
animated. It was as though she had heard her aunt's thoughts, and it
caused Lyra to jump nearly a mile into the air. The woman gasped and
stared down at the girl, as though she'd just seen a ghost.
The five-year-old wasn't phased in the least. "Mommy has a
pretty silver kitty!" she chirped, grinning madly. "Her name's
Cassiopeia and she's VERY cute!"
Sighing, as though trying to apologize, Peter hoisted the girl
onto his lap with a slight grunt. "That's enough of THAT, young lady,"
he scolded the child, a large hand running over her golden-haired
head as he spoke. "You have to be quite while Mommy on Her Elder
Majesty talk, okay?"
Little Larissa pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry,
then, Majesty," she grumbled toward the curly-haired one before
leaning back into her father's arms. "But Mommy DOES have a kitty."
Lyra laughed a bit at the comment and nodded indulgently. "Thank
you for telling me, Larissa," she responded with a sweet smile. "Now
be quiet before your cranky father gets in a worse mood."
The child grinned and clasped her hands together, as though her
aunt had just told a wonderful joke. The brunette man frowned,
eyebrows knitting together.
And the woman who was the Keeper of the Nebulae smiled. "Yes,
well," she picked up, trying to steer the conversation back to where
it had previously been, "I think that she has some sort of problem."
Pink lips curved into a frown. "I can't imagine what, though... She's
always been so happy."
"Perhaps that's the problem," responded Lyra after a well-
placed pause had stretched between the two. She was greeted by a
confused stare. "I think that we always expected Phoebe to be stronger
than the rest of us," she continued thoughtfully. "And I don't think
she is."
"What's a Phoebe, Daddy?" chimed in a young voice.
The man at Celeste's side groaned.
The younger of the two women drew in a breath through her teeth,
trying to make sense of her sister's slightly cryptic suggestion.
"Perhaps so," she nodded, drawing her lower lip between her teeth for
a brief moment, the silence washing over them. "But does that make it
right for her to act like that?"
Silence.
"It's coming," stated the woman plainly, leaning against the
wall as she took a long swig of the liquid in her teacup. As it stood,
she was on her fourth cupful of the bitter, strong drink, but she felt
absolutely nothing.
It was almost disappointing.
"And you say this as though it is a good thing," snapped a
rather groggy Angel of the Moon, her gray eyes a strangely dark shade
as she glared at the taller woman. "It's NOT, Aeris, and you damn
well--"
"Whoa," cut in the green-haired Scout, holding up a hand as
though it would stop the verbal beating she was about to receive. "I
didn't say ANYTHING like that." She frowned, her colorful eyes
focusing on the redhead. "Are you alright?"
Roles were reversed as the white-garbed one scowled and thrust
herself into the nearest chair. "No," she stated plainly, her voice
harboring a slight hint of poutiness. "I feel like crap."
The Guardian of Time set her cup of Sakae down on the edge of a
nearby table and picked up another, her motions smooth as silk. Her
eyes never left the pale, gaunt face of her friend.
One of her best friends. The word 'best' made her breath catch,
and she tried to shake it away. Plutos did not feel emotion. Plutos
did not fall in love. And Plutos... Plutos certainly did not have
best friends.
She glanced at the man beside her for just a brief moment,
chuckling inwardly at the bewildered expression on his face. He'd
asked, once, what was going to happen to Ariel and the other Galactic
daughters, and she'd told him not to worry. It wasn't his duty, even
if she did love him more than life itself. It was HER duty, as the
Time Guardian, to worry about the goings on of the world. He would,
someday, find himself a truly nice woman and fall in love with her...
INSTEAD of worrying about the woman he was currently seeing, a
pathetic waste of human life...
Aeris frowned and wrinkled her nose, thirstily gulping down her
Sakae. Her mother, bless her soul, would have murdered her for such
thoughts.
"The baby, is it?" she asked, pulling her mind off the feelings
and ideas that, she knew, could not matter in the life of the Time
Guardian. A weak nod was her only response, and she shrugged her
shoulders toward it. "I can only imagine what it's like..."
Ambriel clutched her stomach and forced a VERY timid smile.
"It's morning sickness, except I think the rest of my body lives
somewhere in Russia," she quipped in response, shaking her head
slightly. A sparkle of life returned to her otherwise restless stormy
eyes. "But I can't wait for her to be born, so it makes up for all
the pain."
The other woman cocked a head to one side, her crimson lips
curving into a frown as she stared. "'Her?'" she repeated, gaping
confusedly at her friend. "What in the word do you mean by that?"
"I have to have a daughter," responded the redheaded woman.
"Her name will be Arael--Arael Leilel, the Third Angel Moon to grace
this universe--and she will rule my kingdom."
Joshua, who had picked up a sudden interest in the conversation,
turned to her. "Weird," he put in, pursing his lips.
Aeris frowned. "Weird indeed," she murmured, ALMOST silent.
Silence.
"What do you mean by THAT?" he rebuked the man, his bright blue
eyes glittering with anger as he glowered across the table. "Are you
saying that I'm not fit to run the Solar System?"
It was a normal occurrence, really; they had NEVER been on good
terms. Now, certainly, they'd been forced to get along... The fate of
the world, after all, had depended on that.
But they didn't LIKE each other. They never had.
He pushed his glasses up on his nose carefully, the single
action almost challenging it its own right. The look in his eyes, the
spark of anger and the glimmer of rivalry, was almost alluring...
Or it would have been, had his opponent not been another man.
"I'm not saying that at all, Helios," he responded coolly, the
level of calm in his voice enough to send shivers up anyone's spine.
"I was just saying that you, as Master of Elysion, really have no
experience in dealing with a world sans magic."
The other man ran a hand through his hair, taking a chance to
let his mind pick apart the statement. That Richard had always been a
smooth one... He wrinkled his nose in downright disgust. It made
complete sense, of course, that such a placid, urbane man would be
one of the Kings of the Earth. But he didn't have to LIKE him.
Helios resisted the urge to drive a fist into the face of his
adversary. "At least I wasn't having premarital SEX with my
girlfriend."
Mouth ALMOST falling open, Richard desperately searched for the
right words. A blanch crept across his face, embarrassment snaked into
the dark cobalt eyes, and amazement dotted his features. "I..."
Recovering, he regained his glare and sneer. "Lyra and I did NOTHING
immoral!" he shot back angrily. "We were destined, for Christ's sake!
That's what destined people DO!"
"Make whoopee?" laughed the King of the Solar System haughtily,
brushing silver strands from his eyes as he raised an eyebrow at the
redhead. "Or was THAT just extra-curricular?"
Silence.
Halfway across the room stood three MORE men, neither Kings nor
confused, all their eyes focused on the large group of children.
The tall Scandinavian man frowned slightly, watching as his
dark-haired daughter laughed aloud. "To think that all this happiness
and peace is going to come crashing to a halt," he stated softly, his
voice full of some unnamed emotion. He pursed his lips for a moment,
glancing from his daughter to his frowning Priestess wife. "I don't
want to see them unhappy."
"The rest of us don't want to see them like that any more than
you do," added in the golden-brown haired man, sipping a beer as he
crossed his legs. The orange bow tie he wore was crooked, but he made
no attempt to correct it. "We've just got to accept this as an
inevitable as part of life, you know."
The last man, his dark brown hair falling into equally brown
eyes, nodded solemnly. "Our daughters are going to be Scouts, too,"
he informed the other two, as though they didn't know, "and we've just
got to see them through it."
There was a peal of laughter coming from the oldest of the
girls, and she brushed a strand of golden hair from her eyes as she
smiled at her newfound friends.
"They're just now meeting," pointed out Sebastian questioningly,
as though he didn't quite understand his own words. "Which means that
the Eve will come..."
"And we," Eric nodded, "will just have to wait."
* * * * * * * * * * * *