Thank you everyone for all your reviews and feedback and favorites and kudos tumblr reblogs and everything! I'm really happy at the response this fic is getting because it's been a treat to write and share it with you all!

Thank you to my beta Irritablevowel - who you know from her amazingly complex and beautiful magnum opus Phantom - who also now is writing this hilarious crack fic that snaps with cleverness and silliness and you NEED to go read it right now (I'll wait) called Flower Power so check that out.

And thanks to Floraone as well for somehow getting me to send her advance copies of chapters and pointing out typos so you readers don't have to!

Chapter 3

Makoto worked at a local pastry shop, and the girls converged upon it whenever they could.

"Did you know," Usagi said as Makoto delivered the strawberry shortcake she ordered to her table, "that Tawase-sensei owns a karaoke machine?"

"No!" Makoto gasped. "I thought you said she was so shy and reserved?"

Usagi shrugged, still grinning. "Right? But I found it in the closet the other day. And honestly, if I made the big manga artist cash that'd be on the first things I'd buy too."

"Hey, Minako?" Makoto said, as the blonde bubbled into the cafe with the newest Starbucks drink in tow. "Did you know Usagi has a karaoke machine at her place?"

Minako slammed her drink down on the table with open mouthed surprise. Then she snapped her glossed lips closed and gave Usagi a no-nonsense expression. "We are inviting over everyone we know."

Usagi talked Minako down to Ami, Rei and Makoto, of course, plus Naru and Umino, the Furuhata siblings, and Reika. And Mamoru. Considering that he lived next door ("less likely to complain about the noise if he's there drinking beers too, right?" Minako pointed out), and he was still good friends with Motoki. Plus, it'd be unforgivingly rude for Usagi to throw a big party without inviting him, she figured. So she let Motoki extend an invitation to Mamoru, letting him know he could stop by if he wanted to.

But she doubted he'd want to come, parties weren't his thing, and he'd probably be working, and honestly, it was just going to be karaoke and alcohol and fattening foods and like, as far as she knew Mamoru was into exactly zero of those things.

Which meant it was very silly of her to spend all afternoon picking her outfit. Not that it wouldn't be ridiculous anyway, she reminded herself. To agonize over dressing up for Mamoru of all people. But that damn man always managed to see her at her absolute worst!

There was the first day she moved in, of course, all sweaty and tired from lifting boxes all day. Then, the morning she locked herself out, in her ugly suit, when Mamoru was about to let her jump off the balcony to certain death before finally telling her he had a spare key. (Jerk).

After that, she'd run into him while leaving the elevator one night. He was on his way to an evening shift - dressed in work clothes, polished and Mamoru-y, and she was in her pajama shorts, carrying a basket of just-washed laundry, hair down and shower-damp, drying in little sticky-up tendrils every which way, and of course she was wearing bright pink flip-flops.

He'd greeted her with a very polite, "Good evening," to which she had responded something like, "Heeeey... there...," around the key chain she was holding in her mouth. And then she audibly flip-flop-flip-flop'ed to her door with all the dignity she could muster.

Then there was that day she chased a bug out through the balcony and shouted at it to "stay out" through a mouthful of popcorn. Mamoru was sitting on his balcony, obstinately reading a book, and the lack of effort he put into pretending his laugh was actually a cough was, frankly, insulting.

Usagi eyed a denim mini skirt critically, and then tossed it aside and flopped on her bed in frustration. Why did she care so much what he thought, anyway? Better she just dress up for her friends and the party, and for herself, and just have a good time, whether or not her former childhood tormentor turned next-door neighbor showed up!

And he did, surprisingly, show up.

Hands in his pockets, trailing Motoki and Unazuki, who both entered with the usual Furuhata enthusiasm, Unazuki pulling Usagi into a tight hug and then exclaiming over the pink micromini tank dress she'd (finally) chosen to wear, "You look sooo cute! Wish redheads could pull of that color of pink! Where's the beer?!"

Usagi played hostess as best she could, offering Mamoru some food (he declined), beer (he accepted), a seat (graciously waving her arm toward the sofa where a few people were gathering around the karaoke machine set up), for some reason babbling like she was at a job interview. "I mean, it's just a small get together of friends, nothing too wild, I wouldn't do that in Tawase-sensei's apartment or anything, and we won't be loud it's just karaoke... I think Rei is picking a song now..."

She was distracted by the buzzer, and Minako bringing a few more people than she said she would ("What?! They are just friends from work!") and soon the party was in full swing. Usagi was in her element, surrounded by friends and more than slightly buzzed.

Minako and Rei were semi-hogging the mic, but almost everyone got a chance, and Usagi made sure to work in some group songs. She even got Motoki and Unazuki to do a duet.

Usagi, for her solos, liked the ones where she could bounce. For example, she killed Morning Musume's "Love Machine".

"Love, love, love machine!" she sang, the microphone in one hand and her other arm up waving up over her head, "Love, love, love station! Woah, woah, woah, woah!" She jumped with every beat, enjoying the feel of her skirt swirling around her upper thighs and the whip of her hair as she tossed her head. It was fun to be in front of people she knew and liked, a little drunk, very happy, with the city of Tokyo sprawled out in the lights as her backdrop.

Well, Rei would say she murdered it. But she felt like she killed it, and the whooping cheers lead by Minako certainly helped fuel her confidence. That and the three or four beers she'd drank.

Mamoru had been watching her performance from where he'd been leaning against the kitchen island, one hand in his pocket still the other holding a beer, when Usagi decided she'd definitely had enough alcohol to attempt to pull him out of his shell a bit - or at least attempt to get him to sing.

She walked up behind Motoki, tilting her head with pursed lips. "So," Motoki was saying to Mamoru, "I take it from the look on your face during her song, that you still-"

Spotting her, Mamoru coughed loudly, interrupting his friend with a glare.

"Still what?" Usagi asked, tilting her head.

"What?" Motoki asked, blinking in surprise at the small blonde suddenly at his arm.

"You were saying Mamoru still something. What? I wanna knooooooow." Usagi asked, still bouncing a little still while humming LOVE Machine even while Minako had already started a slow love ballad to some guy she brought that she had a crush on.

"I, uh, forgot what I was saying," Motoki said, opening a beer and handing it to her, hoping to distract her into changing the subject.

"'Cause I'm so cute I distracted you?" Usagi asked him, wrinkling her nose with an exaggerated understanding 'happens all the time' expression.

"Yeah," he admitted, clinking beer bottles with her. "It's true."

Usagi turned her million dollar smile to Mamoru, "You are the only one here who hasn't sung a song yet."

"Observant as always, Odango Atama."

"Sing!" she said, taking two or three steps until she stood right by his elbow. Was he taller than she remembered?

"Mmm, I'll pass," he said, after pretending to consider for a bit. "I think your friends have it covered nicely."

"C'moooon!" she pleaded, pulling on his arm a little drunkenly. "It's my party! Pleeease?!"

He gave her a half-smile that Usagi thought actually seemed sincere and not mocking - she chalked it up to her sarcasm-senses being dulled by alcohol - and pressed one finger to her nose, just for a moment. "Now, how could I follow that amazing "Love Country" performance?"

"It's "Love Machine"," Usagi corrected, pouting. "Sing!"

"No," he said.

"Come on," Motoki joined in, laughing. "Sing, Mamoru."

"No."

"Don't make me get Unazuki over here," Motoki said, winking at Usagi.

"Usagggiiii!" Minako waved her over. "Let's do another one! I wanna dance!"

"Better make sure she doesn't start dancing on furniture," Rei said from the sofa, rolling her eyes. The priestess had stayed fairly sober, as she usually did, for no other reason than to lord the other girls' drunk shenanigans over them the next morning.

"Heh heh," Usagi muttered. "Excuse me, I have to make sure Minako keeps her clothes on..."

She'd just turned around from getting Makoto and Minako set up with a Utada Hikaru song to see Mamoru heading out.

"Is he leaving?" she asked, Motoki, distressed.

Before he could answer, she'd found herself stumbling out into the hallway after her neighbor.

She'd failed again. Tried to throw a party, and he'd found it boring and probably foolish. Then she'd pressured him to sing and made him leave.

Why could she effortlessly navigate every relationship in her life, except this one stuck-up, stubborn, inscrutable, gorgeous man?

And why did it matter so much to her?

She caught up to Mamoru in his doorway, and when she caught his arm and the walls spun around her, she realized she was much, much drunker than she had thought she was.

"Woah there," he caught her deftly, steading her on her feet. She clutched his arms, shutting her eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She leaned her forehead on his chest, staring at the buttons on his shirt. "I didn't mean to force you to sing." The buttons moved a bit, maybe in a laugh.

"I just have an early morning tomorrow, that's all."

She touched one button, blinked and there were two, then one again. She pulled at it, spinning it in her fingers. The buttons froze. "I wish you knew I could be, like, ya know," she slurred a little. The button came out of its hole. "Not a mess. Sometimes."

A warm hand curled around hers. "Usagi, you're drunk."

She was. Super drunk. She let her head drift against his chest. He smelled really good. Had she noticed that before? How good he smelled? Did she say that out loud?

"I tried to be pretty tonight," she mumbled. "So you knew I wasn't always in flop- lop - lop-flops. Flip-lips. Fil- ugh."

"Okay, let's get you home."

"I am home," she said, annoyed.

"Odango Atama, you actually live in the other apartment, though, is the thing," his voice was amused again, and she felt a flash of anger but it was quenched quickly by sleepiness and drunkenness and the fact that he smelled so good.

Stupid boy. I hate you, she thought.

"I know," he murmured, and she realized she again had spoken out loud.

"On a scale of one to ten," she said, flopping her head a bit to look up at him, "on a scale of one being like, some girl in pjs in the ele-ele-gator looking like hell and ten being like... the sexiest most beautifulest person ever who you ever saw and like ruins all women for you for life, tell me I at least hit a like... seven ..."

He was walking her to her place as she babbled, her mind screaming at her to stop, to shut up, but unable to stop her mouth from moving.

"A six even," she said as Mamoru handed her over to Makoto and Motoki, with instructions to cut her off for the night, and make sure she drank lots of water and to Ami to double check she had ibuprofen in her medicine cabinet for the next morning. "A five?!"

"TELL ME MY NUMBER MAMORU!" she screeched, finally, from Makoto's arms.

"Fifteen. Goodnight, Usagi."

Fifteen.

That sarcastic bastard.

"YOU JERK, MAMORU-BAKA! AND I WAS NICE TO YOU!"