~*Epilogue*~

The day the two were released couldn't come fast enough – they'd both become sick of the hospital, despite all of the visits and well-wishes from friends and the handful of family Michiru still had left. It had been Mamoru who drove the eager women back to their shared home with orders from the others to rest and get better as quickly as were orders that both were happy to follow.

The bullet wounds had surprisingly healed over – not completely closed, but far further along than they'd be on anyone else – faster than they should have even with the semi-dormant powers of Uranus flowing through Haruka, sans a transformation. Michiru suspected Usagi had something to do with it, but whatever the reason for the excessive healing, Michiru was grateful for it and would not question it, or her queen. Her own wound was healing fast, but was still glaringly present on her forehead, the flesh over her forehead a myriad of reds, pinks, and the cream tone of healthy skin as the edges of the injury began to knit together.

True to her plan, Haruka had impatiently tugged Michiru into a warm shower – careful to keep the cascade from splashing too far up her face. It was, without a doubt, the best shower Michiru had ever experienced in her life – she'd swear it. Steaming water streamed around them as they took their time getting clean. With deliberate restraint, touches were innocent enough, lingering only slightly in a promise of what might happen later. For now, an unspoken agreement whispered between them to hold back – touching only for the sake of feeling the other near. Reminding them of just how close they'd come to not having the other around. They could wait - they'd waited for quite some time already, after all.

Thick, dark blue towels were wrapped around their bodies once they'd stepped out, and each took a little extra time to make sure every inch of skin on their partner's body was as dry as possible. Special care was paid by Haruka to drying Michiru's long hair, the violinist practically purring with the delicate motions her lover used. She knew without even needing to look that those green eyes were trained on the sealed gash that ran too close to her hairline for comfort, and a wave of gratitude coursed through her to have someone in her life as attentive as her blonde.

Once her hair was simply 'damp' and no longer threatening to drip water everywhere, a second towel for each was found, nice and dry and plush as they encased their bodies – at least for the time being. They still had plans to work through - eager to indulge in all the hospital had deprived them of - and lack of clothing only pertained to the last intentions of that day. First - cooking. The Senshi of the Sea, once re-toweled and content, had turned to head toward the bathroom door when Haruka tugged her beloved close for a moment, stealing a kiss before they headed downstairs to the kitchen together. A hint to what they were saving for 'last' that night.

As they entered the kitchen, Michiru was reminded of just how lucky they both were – not just for having survived their ordeal, but for the friends they had supporting them. After renewing their sleep-interrupted discussion about their plans following their return home, the violinist had happily agreed to make the crab marinara that her lover mentioned she was craving, but had lamented that it might have to wait until the next day – neither was likely up for grocery shopping just after being released from the hospital, after all. But Usagi, who had been lingering outside their door, had chirped up that supplies wouldn't be a problem – she and the other girls would take care of it all. So a list was made while both infirmed women regarded their newest and dearest friends with an odd sense of awe. They hadn't asked for the friendship given to them – it had simply been thrust upon them by fate and an incredibly stubborn Usagi. And both recalled the times early on in the interactions with the younger inner Senshi where they'd doubted they could be relied upon for anything at all. Except, perhaps, a headache. Yet they'd been endearing back then, and the pair had welcomed the bubbling five with an odd sense of fondness despite the irritation sometimes caused.

Now? Now Michiru wished she could take back every bad thought she'd ever had of them. They were probably the sweetest, most caring individuals she or Haruka could ever have hoped of meeting. True to their word, groceries had been bought the day before by the group, and the aqua-haired woman found everything she needed put away in their proper places. Lump crab meat, tomatoes, oil, pasta… it was all there.

Slender arms snaked around her middle as she stared at a near-full pantry, and a kiss was dropped lightly on her neck. "Koneko… She's something else, isn't she?" Haruka's voice hummed by her ear.

"Mm, we're lucky, aren't we?" the Senshi of Neptune murmured, leaning back into the arms of her lover. "Having such a Queen…"

"We are. She is our luck, I think." The response came with a low, rumbling chuckle. The artist twisted around to feather a few kisses along Haruka's lips, then shooed her over to the kitchen table so she could cook without too much distraction.

Dinner came with stolen glances, shared smiles, toes brushing against bare calves – little teases kept short to rein themselves from chucking all plans to the wind and simply indulging. Those plans had purpose, after all – they weren't simply luxury for luxury's sake. They both desperately needed the relaxation to recover.

The next stop, after discarding dishes in the sink, was the hot tub. The doctors had cleared Haruka, since her wounds had pretty much closed (baffling the medical staff – they were expecting those particular wounds to last her weeks before healing this far!). So long as she didn't stay in the tub for too long, they were certain she'd be fine. And Michiru was only warned not to go under water till the cut on her head had fully healed. A condition she was more than happy to oblige.

Which meant the two women were grateful for the enclosed pool area they'd insisted on putting in their backyard only days after they'd purchased the property, just a few years ago. Privacy was welcome as they let their towels fall in small fabric lumps on the tile floor and headed for the warm water. Simultaneous groans left them as tired muscles were introduced to the penetrating heat. The tension that had plagued Haruka's form since she was shot began to fade, and the stress that Michiru had felt herself under evaporated like puddles in the hot summer sun.

A few minutes later, Haruka felt herself oozing into a blond puddle as Michiru's fingers began working at the tight muscles at the back of her neck, inching her way down her back. Skilled at more than art and music, those hands knew just where to press and nudge to get the other woman's muscles to give in and release. Haruka was grateful for that knowledge, and once she was feeling better, she prompted her lover to turn so she could return the favor in kind.

Careful pressure was used, always gentle – Michiru's back was stubborn but sensitive. The racer had learned early that pressing hard only got her a back full of more knots. Instead, it was easier to use light pressure to find the knots, keeping steady fingers to work the knots out rather than force them into submission. It took longer, but in the end she couldn't complain – it was rare to see Michiru so at peace – at least without her feet in sand or a shell to her ear. She dropped a few soft kisses along the back of her lover's shoulder and was pleased to see the aqua-haired woman shiver, then lean back into Haruka's form. Arms circled around the other woman's middle, tugging her into her lap.

"I never want to get that close to losing you again," the blond racer rasped, teeth nipping lightly at her lover's earlobe.

"Same for you," came the teasing, warm response.

Haruka's hand strayed lower along Michiru's abdomen, creeping closer to a goal they both knew too well. The aqua-haired woman squirmed slightly in anticipation, tipping her head a fraction to the side as lips assaulted her skin. Haruka's touch was akin to her favorite technique on the piano – fingers fluttering across her skin as they would the white and black keys, pausing the fraction of a second long enough to coax the right note out, but never lingering, never dwelling.

Toccata.

Michiru had played similarly with her violin, but nothing came close to Haruka's skill at it on the piano. Or on her body.

The blond's teeth grazed across her lover's pale throat for a moment. "I could face a thousand deaths with you at my side, Michi. But not a single one alone. Not without you."

Whatever response the other woman might have said, it was lost to pleasured moans and gasps in the warm summer night as Haruka got an early start making up for lost time. By the time the half-full moon began its descent in the sky, the pair had managed to make it up to their bed tumbled into the bedding with hardly a thought to anything but each other. Exhausted from their fun, they'd curled up and tangled with each other and their light blue sheets, asleep again in each other's arms.

It was where they both belonged.


Author here: Love it? Hate it? Did I make a mistake somewhere (well, grammar, at least. Or if I contradicted myself… or any other technical issue). Let me know. And if you're into RP, don't hesitate to PM me. Especially if you RP Haruka. ;-) Always looking for new RPers.