A/N: This is a one-shot's been on my drive for a long time, since the first season of STC. Even then, keeping things noble and "platonic" in STC makes my fingers ITCH to type spicier stuff. This particular specimen of "spicy" is set in an AU first season: Mina's around, but the prince and princess's identities haven't been discovered.

Thank you, jade-eye, whom I hope this story will amuse!

Disclaimer: If I owned Sailor Moon, I would have hired Nimbirosa, Wren-san, Hime-sama, elianthos-chan, Neonlights, and SO MANY OTHERS to help me write dozens of new, Seiya-free seasons!

L

Unusually Quiet

L

The arcade was quiet, unusually so. Usually at this hour – the reddish-violet just before dusk swallowed the sky – and this day of the week – and Friday – teenagers swarmed through the arcade like bumblebees over nectar-fat flowers.

Instead, it was empty. Some popular band called The Three Lights was performing in town that night, and everyone who was anyone had gone to see it.

Serena was curled up in one of the booths at the front of the café, where she could press her cheek against the window and stare out at the sunlight melting away from the growing shadows like butter. A golden feeling filled her as she watched, warm as syrup. Had anyone asked her why such a content feeling had filled her, she would not have been able to answer them in terms they understood. There was sweet, golden sun, and people were having the time of their lives blocks away, and she was happy.

Maybe it was the apron. She stroked a finger idly across its pink material. Wearing an apron made her feel so…motherly. So loved and loving. As though she was cooking supper for her family and had stepped out of the kitchen for just a moment. As though there were a pair of arms wrapping around her waist where the strings were knotted.

She chortled quietly to herself. At herself. For turning inanimate objects into romantic fantasies – was that normal for a seventeen year-old girl? It seemed Freudian. Maybe she should not have agreed to watch the arcade for Motoki while he went to the concert with Reika-san.

Maybe it was the peace of being alone. It was so quiet…how long had it been since she last had any time alone and quiet? She could not summon to mind any moment that she had not been at school, at the temple with the girls, at the arcade with the girls, at home with Luna, at a battle –

She stopped herself. Don't think about what you haven't had, Serena, she told herself, feeling a gentle sort of amusement roll over her as she scolded herself. She was mothering herself. Yes, she certainly was going insane. Just make the most of what you have now, and be happy for it.

So Serena sank back into the cushion of the booth, letting her eyelashes flutter down to brush her cheeks and exposing her pale neck to the warm fingers of the melting sun.

Peaceful.

Serene.

And that was how Darien found her a few moments later.

As the bells jingled, she leisurely opened an eye; then, when she saw who it was, closed it again.

"What's up, Odango?" said Darien comfortably, making his way over to the counter. Few activities brought him as much enjoyment as baiting Serena. "Did you finally conquer Toki and claim the arcade for yourself?"

"If I had, you wouldn't be allowed inside," returned Serena, just as agreeably. She did not bother to open her eyes; she felt the breath of air across her neck as he made his way over to the table and slid in across from her. "Get your own booth."

"Oh, come now. Shouldn't you be flattered and flustered by an elite upperclassman like myself deigning to sit at your table?"

Serena smiled, amused. "Maybe I would be if I wasn't afraid of your enormous ego crushing me into a pancake."

"Delightful." His voice, too, held amusement. "If only your feet were as nimble as your tongue, Dumpling."

More amusement filled her like cool water. She smiled involuntarily and opened her eyes to look at him.

"You're funny, jerkwad," she said matter-of-factly. "I've decided I like you."

Darien blinked, and that made Serena's smile grow. She propped her cheek up on a hand to regard him with vague eyes and curved lips.

"…Is that so?" said Darien after a while.

"Yup."

"Huh." He scratched his chin, still watching her. An odd, rather vague smile, not unlike Serena's, curved his mouth slowly.

Their conversation melted into silence. They watched one another unabashedly, unlaughingly, neither blushing nor smirking. Just wearing small smiles whose gentles curves spoke more of content than awareness.

Yes, the arcade was unusually quiet.

Finally, Darien's eyes sharpened. Though he did not look away from Serena's face, the dreaminess dissipated from his face like fog blazed away by a rising sun. His long callused fingers found the pepper shaker at the end of the table and shook it idly.

"You're strange today, Dumpling."

Serena's smile grew. She closed her eyes. "Not strange. Just…happy." A sigh escaped her, happy and content.

Darien watched her, still rocking the pepper. After a moment, Serena's left eye slid open to watch him in return. Confusion curved her eyebrows. "I thought I was strange every day?"

"You are," said Darien, eyes sliding from her to the pepper shaker. "Perhaps it's more starkly evident today, when you're not surrounded by your insane friends."

"Better make sure Rei doesn't find out you called her insane."

The pepper shaker stilled. "You wouldn't tell her."

"Maybe, maybe not…" A pause. "Maybe."

The pepper rocked into motion again, jolty and jerky like an anxiously tapping foot. "Blackmail's illegal, Odango."

"If you turn me in, I'll spill." Her voice grinned. "And what Rei'll do to you will be even more illegal."

His eyes flicked to hers. She closed them.

The pepper shaker sped up. "What are you going to make me give you?"

"That depends," she said, her eyes still blithely closed, as if to rub in that she did not even need to see him to be able to defeat him. "What have you got?"

The pepper shaker's motion ceased. Silence blanketed the room, and a tongue of uncertainty licked Serena's confidence like a flame. What was he doing?

An internal battle roared into existence, raging between her better judgment and her ego. To open her eyes or not to open them? To open her eyes would be to concede defeat!

Her eyes fluttered open. Unbeknownst to her, her breathing had quickened, shallowed.

The opposite seat of the booth that greeted her was empty –

"Not much, Dumpling," breathed a voice into her ear, tickling the sensitive skin.

Serena's pulse leapt. She could not help it; she let out a scream, spinning in her seat.

Now was Darien's turn to hold the upper hand. He leaned over her, looming like a storm cloud, seeking her eyes. They skittered away from his dark gaze like a crab from the tide.

"That's okay," she squeaked. "I just want you to stop teasing me – " She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as he leaned closer. "I won't tell Rei, I promise!"

There was silence. Still cringing back, she half-opened an eyelid to peer up at him.

"And what," he inquired softly when he saw her looking at him, "am I supposed to do to you if I'm not teasing you?"

"Um…" Serena swallowed. "Well, um, there's lots of stuff, you see – like – "

"Like what?"

"Um, like…like…ignoring me?"

"My dear Dumpling Head…"

Serena swallowed again and focused her eyes even more determinedly on the spot on the wall directly behind Darien's shoulder. Which was no easy task, considering that he was so close that if she turned her face a centimeter, her nose would collide with his chin.

"Do you really think I could ignore you?"

Serena's eyes were watering from going so long without blinking. She swallowed again. "You could – um – talk to me, I guess…if you wanted…"

"About what?"

"I…dunno…" She blinked, brightening. Her eyes snapped to his. "Actually…you could help me with my homework. "

And now it was Darien's turn to be disconcerted. He moved back slightly. "You're kidding, right?"

"Actually – yes!" Serena slipped nimbly out from between his arms. She scrambled onto a stool at the counter, then hopped over the counter to the floor behind it.

"As if I'd ever waste time on homework!" She adjusted her apron. "Now, what can I get you?"

It seemed too cruel for Darien to make a joke about how he hoped she enjoyed working behind the counter at a fast food place, because she was probably going to be at it for the rest of her life.

But he was tempted.

Especially since she had so easily brushed off his obvious attempt at flirting. His ego would be smarting for days!

"Is there any fresh coffee?"

"I could make you some," said Serena dubiously, "but it's bad for your teeth and makes your breath smell bad, so I don't think I will. Is there anything ELSE I can get you?"

Darien gritted his teeth. "Something with caffeine."

Serena danced over to the soda fountain, filling a cup to the brim with some dark liquid. "Why, dear Darien, you aren't implying that conversation with me is so boring that you need caffeine to stay awake, are you?"

"Of course not, Dumpling, darling," returned Darien just as innocuously. "I – " he paused, realizing he didn't have a retort to throw back at her. God, he did need that caffeine.

Serena finished pressing a lid onto his drink and handed it to him, then leaned against the counter, propping her chin on her hands. "This is kinda weird."

"You're telling me," said Darien, who had just taken a sip of his soda. "What did you do, mix Dr. Pepper and Orange Soda?"

"Actually, I mixed orange and Mountain Dew with root beer," said Serena.

Darien blanched.

"So," said Serena, apparently not noticing his revulsion. "Why aren't you at the concert?"

Darien gave her a Look. "I thought you knew me better than that, Serena. I'm not a concert kind of guy."

"I do know you better than that." Serena plunked a steaming mug of coffee on the countertop, along with one packet of creamer and three of sugar. So she had noticed. Darien brightened, and she giggled. "But I also know Rei better than that. And I was SURE she was going to drag you along."

Darien did spew at this. Serena handed him some napkins and thumped him helpfully on the back as he coughed.

"No way! REI?"

"Oops." Serena cringed guiltily. "You didn't know she liked you?"

"Uh, no."

"And people call me dense." Serena took a slurp of Darien's abandoned root beer/Mountain Dew/orange soda.

"It's not like she's ever given any sign!"

"No, just all those times she's asked you to share a milkshake with her, and when she made you cookies, and that green jacket she got you for Christmas, and let's not forget the time she asked you to the prom – " Serena counted them off on her fingers.

"If only you paid as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to all of Rei's attempts to claim my heart," said Darien with a wicked grin.

Serena made a face at him. Then picked up the pepper shaker, unscrewed the top, and dumped its contents into his coffee.

She looked up at him with a grin, expecting to see outrage on his face. But to her surprise and slight unease, he wore a small smirk. She watched as, in seeming slow motion, his hand moved slowly toward her, reached into her apron pocket, and withdrew something.

That something was a package of sweet and sour sauce, and he tore it slowly open and then upended it into her drink.

"Stop being so saucy," he drawled.

Serena merely stirred the sauce into the soda concoction with a straw and took another sip, keeping her eyes on Darien's, challenging.

Darien, loath to be outdone, lifted his mug to sip also. But the combination of pepper and coffee was just too horrendous, and he spewed again.

All over Serena.

She stared down at herself – most especially, her soaked yellow t-shirt – as the brown liquid dripped from her sopping bangs into her eyes. Pink rose in her cheeks. Then slowly, murderously, she lifted her glare to him. "You're DEAD!"

And with that, she scrambled up onto the counter, her face thrust into his. Darien flinched backwards, scooting to the edge of his stool. Serena was doing something, and he knew he should be trying to offset whatever it was, but he could feel her eyes were so close – and her breath was hot on his lips –

With an impish grin that he could nearly feel on his own mouth, Serena hefted her own glass and flung it in his face.

Darien flailed and toppled backwards. Onto the floor.

And there he lay, blinking up at Serena through wet eyelashes.

She stared down at him mischievously, still on her hands and knees atop the counter. Her ropes of wet hair dangled down, one plastered to his left cheek and the other across his neck like a scarf. Or a boa constrictor.

"Why, Darien, you look flushed," she said wickedly. "Would you like a cool drink?"

Darien's mouth slyly curved to match her own. "Actually, waitress, I'd prefer a dumpling."

And he yanked on her hanging pigtails.

With a shriek, Serena tumbled off the counter and landed atop Darien. Her chin hit his, and her teeth champed down on her lip.

"OWWWWWWWWW!" she howled and shot off of Darien. "You JEEEERK!"

Darien groaned and let his head fall back down on the tile. "Why me?" he implored of the ceiling.

"Because you suck at flirting!" yelled Serena. She was running her bloody lip under the faucet, so her words emerged rather garbled, but Darien got the gist.

He hid his faint blush by climbing to his feet. His nice white t-shirt now glistened a garish orangy-green-brown – like diluted vomit. The blush on his face yielded to a grimace.

When Serena emerged from the backroom, holding a Band-aid, she found Darien behind the counter.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be back here!" she exclaimed (rather relishing her authority). She twirled one wet pigtail like a whip, slapping his back. "Out!"

"Down, Odango." Darien turned around to smirk at her. Then he pulled off his shirt.

Serena screamed. And clapped her hands over her eyes, digging her knuckles into her eyeballs. "What are you doing?"

"Changing shirts," came Darien's muffled voice.

Serena cracked open her fingers a smidgeon and peeked out at him. He was, indeed, pulling on a clean blue t-shirt.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" she demanded, her hands dropping from her face.

Darien leaned leisurely back against the counter and smirked at her. "From Motoki's emergency stash."

At her quizzical expression, he elaborated, "You know, for when a kid throws up on him or something."

Serena's expression cleared. "Oh. That must happen a lot when you're around."

Darien hid a smile. "You're forgetting who knows where the spare shirts are, Odango."

"Awww, come on, Shields!" Serena whined. "That's not fair! Just give me a shirt!"

"I have a better idea," said Darien. "How about a wet t-shirt contest?"

Serena crossed her arms over her chest belligerently. "We both know who would win, bucko. So just hand over a shirt!"

She stomped her foot commandingly. A little smile curled Darien's lips.

"What'll you give me?" he asked slyly.

Serena froze in the middle of angrily stabbing his chest with her finger. She withdrew her hand, using it instead to trace her pink lips with her fingertips as she glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

"I suppose I could give you something…"

Darien swallowed.

"If…" Her fingers lifted up, up, up – they were hovering a breath away from his lips –

"If it were your shirt." Her fingers darted in and tapped his chin. "But it's Motoki's, so I guess I'll just have to give that something to him."

Darien didn't bat an eyelash. "Not if you don't get his shirt."

"Argh!" Serena dropped the sultry act and pounded his chest with a fist. "Darien, just give me a shirt! The concert's almost over!"

"So?" said Darien amusedly.

"So everyone'll be coming back soon!" Serena snapped. "I don't want them to see me like this!"

Hmm. Darien's eyes narrowed, sharpening on the the way her wet shirt plastered itself to her figure. Neither do I.

"Fine," he acquiesced, reaching behind him and tossing Serena a shirt.

She scowled. "You mean they were right behind you that whole time? God, I could have just reached past you and snagged one!"

She stomped back to the ladies' room with the shirt clenched in her fist.

"Geeze! He's such a jerk!" she muttered to herself as she stood in front of the mirror and yanked off the apron that had so charmed her earlier that evening, then her clingy wet shirt.

She shook out the shirt Darien had handed her. Glanced at the front.

"SHIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEELDS!"

Darien sighed as the shriek pierced his eardrums. He hopped casually over the counter, heading towards the restroom. "What now, Odango?"

"Stop mocking me!" screeched Serena's voice. A wadded-up blue t-shirt came flying out of the cracked-open door and bonked Darien in the head. "I'M NOT WEARING THAT!"

Darien bent to pick the shirt up, wondering what had spazzed the Odango out this time. He unwadded the shirt and shook it out to inspect its front.

Laughter sprayed out of his mouth.

The light blue shirt, unlike his navy blue one, was not plain. It sported a chibi cartoon of Sailor Moon holding an oar and the words SHE FLOATS MY BOAT in bold black print.

"Stop laughing, Shields! It's not funny!"

"Oh, it's funny," gasped Darien, clutching his sides. "Believe me, Odango, it's funny."

A sigh was heard. Then: "Trade with me, please?"

Darien rolled his eyes, still grinning as he removed his shirt for the second time that night. "Sure, why not? I think Sailor Moon's hot."

He cracked open the bathroom door, held the shirt out.

Serena did not reply, nor did he feel her taking the shirt from him. He frowned, shook the shirt in his hand, and called, "Come on, Odango, I'm not a hanger!"

Still no reply. Darien's brow creased. He opened the door a little wider. "Odango?"

"HENTAI!" Serena's shriek shattered his eardrums. "CLOSE THE DOOR!"

"It's not my fault you didn't answer me!" Darien bellowed back, chucking the shirt inside, then hastily shutting the door. "Forgive me for trying to rescue when I thought you'd drowned in the toilet!"

"I'm gonna drown YOU in the toilet, Shields!" shouted Serena back, but she knew it was her fault. She had just been so shocked when he called Sailor Moon – her! – hot that she couldn't speak.

She harrumphed and struggled into the t-shirt he'd tossed her. Even though he'd worn it for only about ten minutes, the fabric was still warm. And it smelled good, like coffee. (Even if Serena hated the taste of coffee, she had to admit that it smelled pretty darn good. In this way, Serena's relationship with coffee was very similar to the relationship she shared with Darien. Hated him, but man, did he smell good.)

She jutted her chin up as she walked out of the bathroom, clutching her wet shirt crumpled up in her fist. Darien, bare-chested, glanced up from the coffee maker.

"Stay away from that," she ordered. "That poison's what got us into all this trouble in the first place."

Darien quirked an eyebrow. "Really? I was under the impression that you pouring pepper in my coffee was what started all this."

"Well, I'm sure you did something to deserve that," said Serena matter-of-factly. She glared at him suddenly. "God, will you put on the shirt already?"

Darien frowned, then glanced down at the shirt in his hands as though he'd only just noticed its presence.

"Oh. Sorry," he said absently, and tugged it on.

Serena stared at the picture of Sailor Moon on his chest and sighed a little. He thought Sailor Moon was hot…but if he knew who Sailor Moon really was, his opinion would probably turn a total three-sixty.

(Silly Serena. She forgot that turning three hundred and sixty degrees only brings you back to your original position.)

She sighed again. Then heard a throat clear. And looked up – to see Darien's dark blue eyes centimeters from her own.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, jumping backwards. She panted, a hand pressed over her heart. "Darien! What are you trying to do, scare me to death?"

"Nah. If I wanted to do that, I'd just hold a mirror in front of your face."

"Ha ha." Serena crossed over to the soda machine and made herself another repulsive soda mix. Darien flinched as she turned around with it.

"That's right," she said with a sinister grin at him. "Fear me, bub."

Darien opened his mouth to retort, but then the door chimes sounded. They both turned.

"Hey, guys!" greeted Motoki cheerfully.

"Hey, Toki!" the two replied simultaneously (though minus the exclamation point in Darien's case), then glared at each other.

Darien broke their impromptu staring contest first. "Where's everyone else, Motoki?"

"They're coming." Motoki crossed to behind the counter. "I hurried ahead to make sure Serena-chan was doing okay."

He ruffled her hair, and Serena made a face up at him. "I'm seventeen now, I think I can handle an empty arcade, Toki."

"Really? So that explains why the coffee machine's overflowing." Motoki pointed behind her to where brown liquid was pooling around the industrial-sized coffee maker.

Serena gasped. "It's Darien's fault!" she exclaimed, pointing at the dark-haired senior. "He was the one who started making it!"

"Tsk, tsk, Odango." Darien shook his head. "You shouldn't allow customers behind the counter."

"Moron," retorted Serena.

"Hey," said Motoki suddenly. "Why are you guys wearing my shirts?" Then, just as quickly, he shook his head. "No, wait. I don't wanna know."

"Wise choice, Motoki." Darien clapped his friend on the shoulder. "It's a rather sordid tale."

"Did someone say sordid tale?" Mina popped up at the counter. "Spill!"

"What? Serena spilled something again? I'm not surprised." Rei slid into the stool next to Mina's, and beside her appeared Ami and Lita. A stream of people were also entering the arcade, laughing, arguing, joking.

Motoki eagerly watched the booths fill up. Full house tonight! "Hand me an order pad, will you, Serena?"

"Sure." Serena turned to take one from under the counter but saw Darien was in her way. "Hey." She bumped him with her hip. "Move it."

"Make me," returned Darien, not budging one millimeter.

"You want a piece of me?"

Darien's eyes twinkled, and Serena said hastily, "Don't answer that!"

Motoki rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I'll just use napkins," he muttered and betook himself away to Table One.

"Hey," said Rei suddenly. "What are you wearing, Darien?" She squinted at his shirt and then straightened abruptly. "Did Serena give that to you?"

"NO!" cried Serena indignantly, but Darien eclipsed her with an "As a matter of fact…"

"Darien Shields, you big fat liar!" Serena pounded him with her fist. "Stop trying to make me look bad!"

"You don't need my help for that, Odango."

"Hear, hear!" said Rei loudly, but neither Darien – whose attention she had intended to attract – nor Serena took any note of her.

"You'll need medical help when I'm through with you, Shields."

You can punch me as many times as you want as long as you kiss the bruises better, thought Darien, but aloud he said, "And you said I sucked at flirting."

"OOOOHHH!" Serena clenched her fists. "I hate you, Darien Shields!"

"Just an hour ago you said you liked me," countered Darien.

"WHAT?" gasped Serena's friends, Rei loudest of all.

"Well, YOU proposed a wet t-shirt contest!"

More gasps.

Darien's teeth were bared in a wide grin. He seemed to be enjoying this huge debacle they were creating, Serena realized! How DARE he take pleasure in her humiliation!

She grabbed him by the collar and yanked his face down to hers.

"Stop making fun of me!" she whispered fiercely at him, eyes flashing. "You're making everyone think that we're going out!"

"I've acted like this all afternoon," countered Darien. "You didn't have a problem with it then."

"Yeah, well," said Serena, cheeks flushing pink. "That was when no one else was here. But there's other people here now!"

Darien narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, nodding. "I see what you're saying," he whispered conspiratorially back to her. A shiver traveled down Serena's spine despite herself. "You want us to be alone again."

"No!" cried Serena, alarmed. "No, that's not what I said – DARIEN!" She wailed and twisted around, but Darien had already locked her arms around his neck and was now heading toward the door as she dangled on his back. "Lita, Mina, Ami, SAVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Darien tipped his head to the four dumbfounded teenagers. "Good night, girls." And he strode out the door, whistling.

"Darien! LET. ME. DOWN!" Serena screeched as they stepped out into the chill winter night. "It's COLD!"

"No, no, no, you said you wanted to be alone." Darien grinned at Serena's reflection in a shop window as they passed it. "And I'm your taxi for the night. Where to?"

"What is WRONG with you?" Serena kicked him in the shin, the only retaliation she could manage with her arms gripped securely in his hands and her legs dangling thirty centimeters from the ground as she hung from his neck. "You're not HIGH, are you?"

"Nope," replied Darien. "Anyways, you better decide on a destination soon. I charge by the minute."

He felt Serena stiffen against his back. "Charge what?" she said suspiciously.

A grin crossed his face. "You'll see. Oh, look at that! Your time's up! Now I get to decide our destination. Off we go!"

"You really are high," Serena mumbled into his back.

"Hmm, let's see – girls find the park romantic, don't they?" Darien mused, purposely aloud.

"If you take me to the park right now, I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER forgive you," declared Serena shrilly. "It's FREEZING!"

Darien threw her a sparkling smirk. "Don't you think I could keep you warm?"

Serena's cheeks flamed red. "By making me blush, maybe," she muttered into his shoulder. "Why are you acting so weird, anyways?"

"Weird is such a subjective term," said Darien. When he spoke, his voice vibrated within his chest and buzzed against Serena's chin where she rested it against his shoulder blade. She giggled a little.

Which, needless to say, made Darien a little suspicious. "What are you up to, Odango?"

"None of your beeswax," replied Serena, her chin still digging into his shoulder blade. It occurred to her that bees buzzed, and buzzing was the feeling she got when Darien talked – she let out a fresh peal of laughter.

Darien smiled, slowed to a stop, and returned Serena to the ground.

"What now?" she demanded, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt and looking up at him suspiciously.

He leaned toward those suspicious blue eyes, feeling the heat from her face as his bangs brushed hers. The heat melted his caution.

"Now," he said, "it's time for you to pay the fare." And he caught her cold lips with his.

L

The arcade was silent, unusually so.

"Where'd you say Serena and Darien were again?" asked Motoki of the four girls seated at his counter.

"Probably off ripping each other's throats out somewhere," said Lita with a grin.

"Uh…" said Mina, who was staring out the arcade's wide glass window at the street outside. "They're doing something to each other's throats...but I don't know if ripping's the right word for it."

Motoki, Lita, Ami, and Rei's eyes snapped to follow hers to the black- and golden-haired couple visible on the other side of the street.

"What the - ?"

"Oh my God!"

"WHOOH! You go, girl!"

And suddenly the arcade was no longer silent.

L

Serena couldn't stay on her tiptoes for one second longer. But she really, really didn't want to stop kissing Darien…who, despite drinking coffee, tasted really really good…

"Odango." His lips changed shape against hers, breaking the contact.

She fell back to the flats of her feet with a gusting exhalation. As she lifted trembling fingers to her lips, her eyes were glued to his lips. Had they really just kissed her?

"My eyes are up here, Odango."

Immediately she glared, raging at the fact that he was teasing her after a kiss like that, but then her brain caught up with her senses, presenting her with the nervous quality that had tightened his voice.

"Oh, no, you don't!" She stabbed a finger into his chest, right smack dab in the middle of Sailor Moon's face on the front of his t-shirt, and pushed up on her aching tiptoes to glare into his dusky eyes. "You're not sneaking back into teasing and fighting after THAT!"

"That?" he said, his eyes crossing slightly as he tried to focus on her.

Her tiptoes were really really killing her. "Get down here!" She grabbed him by the scruff of his t-shirt and dragged his face down to her level, sinking back down to the flats of her feet with a little sigh of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut. Then she opened her eyes again – and found Darien's eyes right in front of them. And realized that she'd just sighed in his face.

And realized from the expression on his face that he had realized that little fact, too.

"Well, at least I don't have coffee breath!" she flung at him defensively before he could say anything.

"No, you have orange soda breath," Darien said, but he was grinning now. "So tell me, Odango, am I better at kissing than I am at flirting? Or do you need another test drive before you can tell?"

"Stupid," said Serena, trying to ignore the three-hundred degree blush burning her cheeks. "What do you think I dragged you down here for?"

And before he could make an annoying retort and launch them into another raucous argument, her lips met his for a second time. And then a third time, and a fourth – and during the fifth, as his hands had sifted up into Serena's hair to angle her head, Darien realized that it was quiet, unusually so.

Then he decided, as Serena's cold fingertips crept up his neck, that being quiet with Serena was even better than being loud with Serena.

Then, as her fingers knotted in his hair and she made a very interesting noise into his mouth, he realized that he might have to reassess that decision.

END

L

A/N: We'll just ignore the fact that that last little bit took place in the middle of the sidewalk, shall we? Heheheh. Please review!