Disclaimer: I wish I owned a really cool car. Heck, I would settle for a new phone. But as for Sailor Moon? Not mine and never will be.

Destiny, Compromised

Chapter VII

Ami found herself awake early. Sleep had not been much of an ally the night before; she awoke frequently and was met with nightmares while she dozed. It was just past six-thirty when she swung her legs off the side of the bed and sat up. For a few minutes she remained there, her forehead resting in her palms. By comparison, this last weekend should not have been so rough. What Ami had been through in her life since she met Serena, since she had discovered her hidden past, since she had taken up her mantle as Sailor Mercury—this bullshit was nothing in comparison to all that. And yet, as Ami's heart sunk into her stomach, making her feel riotously sick, she realized something: she did not want to go to Johns Hopkins. As quietly as possible, she dug through her carry-on tote to retrieve her used boarding pass, the one for the flight from Japan. For a minute, she fingered it absently. It would be costly, and she would have a lot of explaining to do, but she could go back.

But what is it, exactly, that she would explain? That she gave up? That she changed her mind, after years of hard work, dedication, and planning? And what else would she do if it wasn't this?

After carefully replacing the boarding pass in her bag, she traipsed into the bathroom to change her clothes. With a copy of the room-key in her pocket, she made her way out into the hotel lobby. The restaurant was only just opening, so Ami shuffled in and seated herself. She ordered an orange juice and picked up a copy of the Orange County Register that was lying on another seat close by. The stories meant nothing to her, but it was something to read.

For a long time she sat there, perusing the paper and occasionally sipping her orange juice. Each of the ice cubes in it melted, creating a layer of orangey-water floating at the top. After some time, she heard from the lobby what sounded like Darien's voice, somewhat frantic.

"Have you seen Ms. Mizuno? Did she come out this way?" he was demanding of the front desk attendant.

Ami glanced over her shoulder. The attendant was pointing into the restaurant, which was separated from the lobby with only a thin glass screen. Darien thanked him and half-jogged in the dining area. An expression of relief washed over his face when he saw where Ami was seated. He settled into the other chair adjoined to her table. Without saying a word, she folded her newspaper and placed it on the table next to her sweating glass of orange-water. She took a napkin to mop up some of the condensation so she would not have to look directly at him.

"I—I was really worried. I didn't know where you'd gone," he stammered sheepishly. His hand was extending across the table toward hers.

"Darien." She cleared her throat. "You aren't my babysitter."

With a little sigh of embarrassment, he withdrew his hand, leaned back in the chair and mumbled, "I know."

There was an awkward silence that stretched on for a full minute.

"While we're here, do you want to have breakfast?" he asked, "Or did you already…?"

Shaking her head, she told him she hadn't eaten anything yet. When a waiter was in sight, Darien waved him over so they could order.

After they had finished their meal, Darien wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. This time, when his hand reached across the table to brush against her arm, he could not be deterred by her discomfiting cold demeanor.

"I would really like us to have a nice time today. This may be one of the only breaks we are afforded in a long while. If I did something to bother you, I'm sorry."

His heartfelt apology struck her hard with guilt. It was like that feeling she had had with Serena—that a stone was pressing down on her chest. Her eyes did not lift from her lap for a long moment.

"It's not you," she insisted. "I just have had so much on my mind. I'm really scared about," she swallowed and looked up at him, aligning her blue eyes with his. "All this."

His fingertips stroked her arm back and forth, which brought a spark to her heart—a most unexpected spark, the sort you always hope dies so it doesn't catch fire in the dried brush.

"I'm scared, too," he admitted.

But she wasn't sure if they were scared of the same thing.

*

Disneyland was the best—the very best. There was something catching in the atmosphere that made the two of them feel like little kids. They rode everything they could. Ami screamed at the top of her lungs while Darien "drove," on the Indiana Jones Adventure. Overpriced pizza and pasta became the most luxurious lunch, especially as it gave them five minutes' peace before they lined up for a second go on Space Mountain. That time around, Darien purchased the picture because, he said, Ami's expression of delight was too priceless. He promised to make a copy for her, although she hadn't asked. They fed each other cotton candy, although Ami piped up again about the both of them knowing better, and then they dallied through Fantasyland. When they came to the Matterhorn, and they were asked if they would ride together or separately, Darien without hesitation said, "Together," and when he was met with Ami's quizzical stare, he shrugged and insisted they would get through the line faster that way.

When they were buckled in, Ami fit snugly between his legs, he placed on broad hand on her thigh. With his other hand, he gripped one of the small silver handles. Leaning back into him and inhaling with anticipation for the ride to begin, she found he was wearing cologne.

It suddenly occurred to her. Her mind buzzed with the thought, the most obnoxious thought, but she could not wave it away.

It was like they were on a date.

Oh.

A hot blush crept from the base of her neck into her cheeks. Fortunately, he was behind her and could not see or feel the flush spreading across her face.

*

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