Sorry about the slight lateness. I just recently made it into a new school. Selective. Very different to my selective stream one.

And on top of that and the evil workload. I had missed my train. Twice. I was on the wrong platform. You can blame my best friend. We were talking and I didn't look at the boards. =.=

Then I was out. lol. I've definitely been busy.

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

If you haven't gotten it yet, I would consider you searching up Sailor moon and finding out more about it. ;)

Chapter Ten

"Honey, you stay in Crescent Bay until you get this thing straightened out." Lita's voice rang strong and warm over the telephone wire. "Nathan and I have everything managed here. Besides, you've hardly ever taken any holidays, so treat this as such."

"Thanks," Serena murmured, clutching the envelop in her hand.

"If we could help, we would. Just take your time, and relax."

"Has Rini called?"

"Mmm-hmm. She's kinda anxious, poor thing. But don't worry. Kids that age think there's a quick fix for everything, so they don't know how to wait."

"She doesn't have a clue," Serena murmured.

"Of course, she doesn't. She's thirteen! And don't go blaming yourself. What is, is. You did the best you could. I told her you were explaining things to her daddy, and you'd let her know as soon as everything was arranged." Lita hesitated. "Have you seen him?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Told him?"

Serena sniffed, more in annoyance at herself than anything else. "It was terrible. I hedged it. I couldn't bring myself to just blurt it out, and now I'm not sure how to approach him. I've…I've written a letter," she admitted.

"Mmm… Bad idea," Lita muttered.

"I know."

"Be brave, honey. You can do it."

"Captain Courageous, I'm not," Serena disagreed. "Every time I look at him I just feel hysterical. I thought if I wrote everything down, it would come out better."

"Well, it's a mess, but I think the direct approach, face-to-face, would be best. I'd hate to do it myself, but I think I would."

"You're stronger than I am."

"Oh, bull!" Lita chortled with laughter. "I'd be feeling the same way you do––probably a hundred times more scared. But when it comes to duty, both of us always do what's best, don't we."

"I guess."

"You read over that letter and see if you really want to give it to him. Then make your decision. You'll know."

Serena hung up slowly, knowing Lita was right, wishing fervently that she wasn't. In the back of her mind she'd always felt that the day would come when she would confront Darien, but in her everyday life she'd never been able to envision it. It was just too damn hard!

Smoothing out her hair with one hand, she glanced down at the letter clutched between her fingers. With sudden fury, she ripped open the envelop, scanned it contents, then groaned in frustration. It was terrible! Rambling and apologetic and downright embarrassing, now that she looked at it. Nope––telling Darien he was a father to a thirteen-year-old in neat cursive writing wasn't what she wanted. She had to do it in person. Deliberately she tore the missive into a half-a-dozen pieces, dusting them into the waste basket next to the motel room's nightstand.

With a sigh she swept her purse from the bed, then caught a glance at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. All she saw were a pair of anxious, blue eyes gazing back at her.

There had been moments in Darien Shields' life when he'd glimpsed the future. Oh, it wasn't anything magical or mystical. Hardly. He'd never felt any connection to the unnamed forces around him apart from an occasional jolt of déjà vu. No, what he sometimes felt was a surety that at some given point of his life would turn out a specific way. The threads of his life were woven into a fabric; a fabric that would not unravel unless he forcefully cut it apart––something he would never do.

He'd known from the outset that he was meant to be with Caroline. It was fate. She was a part of him. Another side. A facet. She didn't demand, she waited––a paragon of patience. She was his other half.

And it didn't matter that he neither loved nor wanted her. Waiting for the right woman, his perfect match, was a romantic notion he'd given up in high school. Marriage wasn't like that, anyway. It was living with someone day by day––a friend and companion. It was keeping everything in perspective.

He'd resolved himself to his marriage to Caroline years ago––almost from the moment Serena Tsukino had left Crescent High. Serena had messed with his mind all through senior year. He'd been forced to share her with Diamonde Campbell, for God's sake! To this day, he didn't understand it.

Looking back, he was pretty certain she'd cared about him. She'd actually given herself to him––a memory he still couldn't quite shake. But he'd fought his feelings, pretended he didn't care. It was too intense and he was too young and scared. In retaliation, she'd looked Diamonde's way and that had been Darien's undoing. He'd smashed the grinning bastard in the face, starting a fight that had gotten them both thrown off the football team during the play-offs.

His father had never forgiven him for that, and jerk that he was then, Darien had tried to blame Serena. Her friends pleaded with him to talk to her, to meet with her, but he'd been too arrogant, proud and just plain stupid. Then she's called him up Valentine's Day and he'd buckled. He couldn't stand it, but all he could remember now was how she'd looked at him, warm and tender and available, and moron that he was, he'd refused to accept the invitation, wrapped up in his own false nobility that had nearly suffocated him.

He'd kicked himself over that. He'd wanted her like he'd never wanted another woman, before or since. And then there was one last chance. One last night of love-making with May rain pouring all around the tree house while Serena whispered words of love and commitment. He'd soaked it up like some life-renewing elixir.

Then she was gone.

Sure, he'd been a jerk. He'd played with her emotions because he didn't know how to handle his own. He'd been consumed with puppy love and scared spitless over his feelings, so he'd never actually said the words back, although he'd sure felt them.

Love… Man, it had hurt. But, thank God for small favours, he'd kept his feelings to himself and escaped without making a total fool out of himself. It would have been an even more hellish summer after graduation if he'd given his heart and she'd stomped all over it. The way things stood, he'd told himself nightly, it was a smart thing to keep his emotions locked inside. She might have massacred his heart, but at least he'd held on to some dignity and self-respect.

But sometimes he still thought back…What if…

Darien screeched his Jeep to a halt in front of his parents' home. Climbing out, he turned his face to a wild breeze that slapped wetly against his face. Good. He needed a slap to his senses. He'd looked at Serena Tsukino standing Beachtime Coffee and felt like he'd been kicked in the groin. Damn it all! What was wrong with him?

Unlocking the gate he jogged to the front door, thought better of it, then circled to the rear of the house and entered through the back door. But that reminded him of Serena, too. The time she'd saved him from hypothermia.

Glancing at the clock he realised that it wasn't even noon yet. Wishing he'd succumbed to his first inclination and was now holding up a stool at the Tank House, he threw open the refrigerator door and swore violently when he realised there wasn't a beer to be had.

"Darien?" Beryl's voice scraped along his nerves.

Closing the door he saw her standing at the edge of the room, one hand holding open the swing door. Without a word he turned on his heel.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

To get drunk, he thought to himself while his voice stated, "Out."

Their first night of lovemaking was etched in his memory. The hammock, the scent of fall leaves, the light perfume that flavoured her hair and made him want to bury his face in those thick tresses. Her body was satin. She'd given it so effortlessly that night. Even to this day when he thought of her soft flesh and the rustle of eager hands removing confining clothes and even more eager lips discovering secret hollows and curves…his damn body reacted like a horny teenager's.

She'd told him she loved him over and over again. At first he'd soaked up the adoration like it was his due. Ego. He'd been lousy with it. Darien Shields, quarterback of the football team, most sought after dream guy; God, it was miserable to admit, but he'd bought into the whole damn thing, hook, line and sinker!

When he'd first made love to Serena, although every one of his sense had been aflame with desire, not once had he uttered words of love in return. She'd been hurt; he could feel how confused she was after that sweet, hot union, but he hadn't really cared. Not the way he should have. Not then.

He supposed, in a way, he was somewhat responsible for her next move. Hindsight was so incredibly clear. She'd turned to Diamonde to make him jealous and it had worked like the proverbial charm! He'd wanted to murder his old football partner. Turning to the solace of Caroline's arms hadn't been any answer, either. Caroline's coolness was so off-putting that even his friends' assurances that she was probably hot under all that ice could neither convince Darien nor make him want her.

So, he blamed Serena totally and fought his feelings for her. And he just knew––the way he sometimes felt the weight of certainty about the future––that she was trouble for him. About as bad a match as could be made. And it didn't take his mother's continual harassing about her to convince him, either––though Beryl was particularly eloquent on the subject of Serena Tsukino.

No, it was his own innate awareness of what would work, and what wouldn't. And he knew it wasn't every going to work with Serena.

Then she'd phoned him on Valentine's Day. And like the love-hungry fool he'd been, he'd met her for a soft drink and some stupid small talk and a ridiculous heart-shaped pizza. There was a lushness about her that never ceased to intrigue him; he could look at her for hours.

And that sarcastic tongue was such a shock. Half the time he felt she was three steps ahead of him, but then he could read the desperation in her eyes and he sensed again the trap that he would fall into if he were to take those last steps toward her.

But, it hadn't stopped him wanting her. He'd hated seeing her with Diamonde, even if it was just a chance word in the halls. He'd hated seeing her with any other guy.

"Another?" the bartender asked. Darien lifted his head. He'd ripped the bar napkin into shreds. Merrick, who was more than amiably drunk already, was being coerced into taking a ride home with a friend. Darien supposed he should care what happened to his head "chef," but apathy seemed to have infected his every pore.

Nodding to the bartender, Darien expelled a sigh of frustration, wishing it mattered as little as he would like everyone to believe.

There had been a time at the beginning of their senior year when they'd hung out as a sixsome––he and Serena, and Matt and Mina, and Andrew and Raye. None of them had been really dating, although he and Serena were connected at a primal level that had made him feel as if an engine was always humming inside his head. Then the night he and Sere had first made loved ended their group; he'd ended it. He'd wanted a different kind of relationship, although he'd been clueless as to what that different kind of relationship might be.

He had hurt Serena. Had been unable to risk words of love and commitment and desire. He'd let his body do the talking and been proud of himself for his detachment.

Ha! Some detachment! He'd about gone crazy when she'd drifted to Diamonde.

Dumb, dumb, dumb…

Then in May, after that tentative Valentine's Day truce and a throbbing need that wouldn't die, Darien had run for her like a dying man.

And she'd been waiting. He'd picked her up outside Crown's, wrapped her in his arms, told her how much he'd missed her, how much he wanted her, and her resistance had melted like spring snow. They'd made love in the hammock all night while water dripped musically around the tree house. Only when the sun rose and Serena remarked how she'd never stayed out all night before, did Darien start having those second thoughts. Terrible thoughts. Mean thoughts that should never have been voiced whether he'd believed them or not.

There had been rumours that she'd been sleeping with Diamonde, too. There had even been talk that she was pregnant and not sure who the father was. That had merely stopped his heart, considering that he was definitely a candidate! But he hadn't believed any of it. Not really. Well, sort of. Rumours flew through Crescent High like the wind.

But waking up that spring morning, Serena's Tsukino's warm nude body cuddled in his arms, Darien Shields had asked himself in a cold, scared voice, What the hell are you doing? How could he keep making such stupid mistakes? He hadn't used protection. Either time! And what did he know about Serena Tsukino, anyway, except that her home life was bad enough for her to want a ticket out of it?

With the benefit of hindsight, he could see what a bastard he'd been, changing from passionate lover to remorseful stranger in such rapid succession that Serena was left stunned and wounded. She'd gazed at him through those huge, naked eyes, and although he'd hated himself, he couldn't stop babbling on about Caroline and how, although he liked Serena, they weren't meant to be together. Then his voice had dried up at the sparkle of tears in her eyes, tears left unshed. He'd wanted to drag her back into his arms and shout how much he loved her, but it was too late.

He told himself, he'd done the right thing: there was no future for them.

He loathed himself like he'd never loathed anything before, or since.

The next few weeks had been the purest form of torture. Self-inflicted. He deserved every moment of it. Anguish gnawed at him. He'd been so cruel. He hadn't meant to be.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Finally, unable to stand it anymore, he'd called Serena but to his shock she was out with Diamonde! Fury licked through him, hot and nasty and evil. So, he'd been right, after all. She'd just been looking out for a way out. If she couldn't have Darien Shields, she would settle for Diamonde Campbell.

Darien wanted to rip out Diamonde's heart. Instead, he concentrated on coldly learning to hate Serena.

The same night he learned Serena was dating Diamonde, Darien's parents were having a dinner party at their house and had invited the Newsmiths. Darien was supposed to behave like a proper gentleman. Caroline was there, of course, but all he could think about was Serena––and Diamonde–– and a seething, silent rage, careened his emotions out of control. He was less than worthless as a host––a glowering, furious maniac.

And then Serena showed up at the house. Shaking, upset, panicked, she rang the front bell, a summons answered by his mother. Beryl strode into the salon where he half sprawled in a chair, a blatant display of arrogance and disrespect.

As if divining Serena was somehow the cause, Beryl bit out frostily, "that trashy Tsukino girl is here to see you, Darien. I had half a mind to tell her you weren't here. Make it quick."

Everyone stared. Darien took his time rising to his feet, but inside his heart hammered and perspiration collected along the back of his neck and palms. Nerves. God, she could turn him into mush.

Beryl followed him to the front door. "Don't invite her in. I don't know where Caroline gets her patience!"

"I'll handle this," he told her through his teeth.

"We have guests, Darien," she implored.

Darien ignored her. He practically ran to Serena's arms desperate for escape, his own anger and hurt turning him deaf, dumb and blind. But she was shivering and wretched, immersed in some inner turmoil that, as it turned out, had nothing to do with him…

"It was Diamonde," she whispered, staring down at herself in horrified disbelief. Belatedly, Darien noticed several buttons were ripped off her shirt. Her hair was mussed. A streak of dirt painted her cheek. Half-choked sobs issued from her throat and she ran shaking fingers through her tangled mane, embarrassment and fear turning her cheeks alabaster white.

He'd seen red. He left with Serena, determined to beat Diamonde Campbell into an inch of his life.

"No," she'd moaned, one hand on his arm as he furiously wheeled his car onto the road, nearly side-swiping Mr. Newsmith's black Mercedes. "There's something else. I––I need to talk to you."

"You want to talk about something beside's Diamonde's attack?" Darien demanded, insane with jealousy.

"He scared me, but I just––I just need to see you." Her voice was strangled, barely audible. "Please forget about Diamonde."

"Forget about him?" Darien bellowed. "Are you crazy?"

"I just had to see you."

He'd looked at her, then. Really examined her. And he hadn't like what he saw. Could she have faked this whole "attack" story? A smudge of first on her face, a few ripped buttons, a shaking lower lip––it would be so easy to dupe someone as lovesick as Darien Shields.

Instead of feeling sympathy, he'd begun to wonder at what was real. Near rape, or just a ploy to win his attention? How convenient that Diamonde had been so persistent! Or maybe she'd led Diamonde on and involving Darien was her way of working on him.

He'd driven her to the beach, questions digging at his brain. She was shaking from head to toe, self-conscious about her blouse, huddled on the passenger side of the car.

"I need to know what your feelings are for me," she said in such a quiet voice he could scarcely hear her. When he didn't respond, she added, "I––I just can't go on like this without knowing."

"Without knowing what?" he'd asked, treading carefully. Who knew what diabolical plan was hatching in that beautiful head of hers?

"Do you love me…just a little?"

He'd gazed at her detachedly. It was a hell of a performance, but she had to think he was a complete moron to believe it. The Serena Tsukino he knew was confident and spicy and sarcastic, and this lost-little-girl stuff was just too much to buy.

"I don't believe you," he stated flatly.

"What…?"

"I don't believe you. You probably weren't even with Diamonde. You're just trying to get some sympathy."

"You––you––you think I did this to myself?"

She gestured to her clothes, so utterly stunned that Darien realised he'd been wrong.

"No, I don't know. Maybe your father," he said feebly.

"Oh, God!"

She nearly ripped the door off its hinges in her fury to get out of his car.

"I didn't mean it," he apologised instantly. This was the truth. It had been a horrible thing to say. He had no basis of fact. It was all rumour about her family anyway. He scrambled out after her. They faced each other with a warm May breeze billowing her hair around her pale, oval face.

"I hate you!" she declared in a voice packed with rage. "I really hate you! You don't know anything!"

Darien felt something inside him crack at that.

"Look, I––I'm sorry."

"You are so stuck on yourself! Everything revolves around you. I can't believe myself. I was so blind!"

"If you say Diamonde did this to you, I believe you."

"You're incredible."

Her eyes were dark pools of resentment; mouth now drawn tight. Darien knew he'd stepped over the line, yet a part of him was just as upset as she was. "I'll kill Diamonde," he growled.

"Too late." Serena'a voice rang with ugly sarcasm.

"I don't want to see you again, Take me home!"

"Fine. But I'm going looking for Diamonde."

"When you find him, I hope he beats the living tar out of you!"

"He'll be lucky to get one punch," Darien snarled.

Her mouth worked. He expected round two. Instead, two tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, caught by the moonlight. She tipped her head back and inhaled a shaky breath, her breasts heaving with emotion. In that moment Darien was consumed by lust, his own body reacting to her vulnerability in a very male, very acceptable way. But he couldn't help reaching forward to catch a piece of her silken hair between his fingers.

She jerked as if he'd slapped her. Her eyes shot dark sparks of fury and she batted his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Serena…"

"If you're not taking me home, I'm walking." With that she twisted away, half-stumbling up the beach. It was the completely wrong direction and after a few silent swear words, Darien took off after her.

He caught her halfway to the surf. "I'll take you home."

"No."

"Damn it, Serena! I don't know what the deal is, but I can drive you home!"

"I'm not going there. I'm not going there every again. And, no, my dad didn't do this to me. Oh, God." Hysterical laughter bubbled from her breast. "Maybe I did it to myself."

Something else was going on here besides Diamonde's pawing and her own need for him to admit his feelings. "What is it?" he asked, really wanting to know.

"Nothing." Her voice was flat.

"Tell me."

She opened her mouth as if to speak, caught herself, gazed at him long and hard, shook her head and silently walked toward his car, her steps weighted as if she were the oldest person living on the planet. Darien made one last attempt to talk to her, but she was deaf to him. She'd checked out, somehow, and only revived long enough to absolutely, totally and completely refuse a ride home.

He made some stupid comment––he couldn't remember what; something about her stubbornness––and she glared at him.

"I made a big mistake," she told him. "I made a big mistake in loving you."

"Serena…"

"I hate you now. You don't know how much…"

Now, cradling his beer, Darien suddenly shivered, the memory ice-cold. Some said hell was a frozen land with no warmth. He could believe it. Serena's glacial ending had been completely final. She'd never returned to school. And while Darien frantically tried to reach her and make amends for his heartlessness and lack of understanding, she was already on her way to her new life––whatever that was.

He'd never seen her again until now, and the irony of it was that seeing her again brought back the heat she'd stolen from his life. He hadn't even really known it had been missing. But last night, and this morning, he'd felt a furnace blast of emotion and, yes, desire; and although his head was clear, his body was all too eager to jump in and get burned again.

Ahh well... I know you hate me.

I'm dragging this on a bit aren't I? But I promise it will end. Maybe in around 2 months. You can do the math and think about the yet to come chapters.

Alright, don't hate on me if you think there isn't enough action.

Obviously I want to explore the inner emotions of my characters. This is a inner journey. lol.

Since I am studying journeys...Bleh

Anyways REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!

Next week's might be a bit short so don't hate on me. =(

But it'll be good I promise.

Until next time, Bye!