A/N: The A/N for this chapter is below. It had information regarding the chapter, if you choose to read it go ahead, but you don't have too if you don't want, that's why it's at the bottom. It won't affect your reading in any way.

I do not own Sailor Moon.

Arc 2: Chapter 17: Word of Mouth, Itchy Legs…and the Cat.

"You mind repeating that?" Taro groaned out sitting at the restaurant that he and his ex-wife Saeko frequented when they played catch up.
"You heard me the first time." Saeko wasn't sure that she should be explaining the particular issue, but she always gave the man warning about his daughter.
"Still, pretend I have some wax in my ear and tell me again?" He wanted to scowl about what he was hearing but kept to himself.
"I haven't talked to her yet." Saeko shrugged. "All I can say is that Gai saw her and Makoto walk in for an appointment."
"I know that much. Gai already called me. That's why I wanted to talk to you in the first place." Taro rarely lost his temper, but he was flabbergasted.
"You'd think you would have questioned her or something." The man put a hand to his face. He wasn't ready for this.

"Relax." Saeko herself had been fairly fertile and that had resulted in an early and unplanned pregnancy. "I highly doubt that they've gone and done anything yet. That was likely a regular appointment more so than anything." She took a sip of her coffee, frowning for the tenth time in the past half an hour that it wasn't nearly strong enough and then sat back, her mind playing out how best to calm the man before her. "Even if it was an appointment of importance, the most they could have possibly done is gone over the procedure. I'm no OBGYN, but even I can tell you it isn't some quick and easy thing."

"Who's the father?" Leave it to Taro to start on that tangent.
"That depends on how you decide to look at it." Saeko suppressed a laugh as Taro coughed on his soda.
"How do you figure?" He sputtered trying to breath. "Makoto is a girl…unless I'm missing something and I do hope I'm not."
"Makoto is female, you are correct." Taro had a streak of being very dense when he wanted to be. Saeko's pager went off then and she sighed.
"Then how the hell does that even happen?" Grimacing he pulled the pager from Saeko's hand. "Explain that one to me."

"Talk to Ami." Saeko sipped her coffee, placing her share of the bill on the table. "I'm off to work, we're shorthanded. If you need answers talk to you daughter, and sooner rather than later might be a smart idea." She stood up pulling back the small square device that Taro had apprehended and clipped it to her thin, gray belt, smiling softly. "The sooner you talk to her, the better it'll be. Don't just sit around in confusion this time."

"If Makoto was a real man she would have come and told me first." Taro huffed out in avid annoyance as he leaned back in the chair. Little did he know he had been overheard. As he heard the door jingle, signaling Saeko was headed to the parking lot he fished out the rest of the money, and the tip, heading to the register to pay. Saeko's car was still parked for a few more minutes before it drove past the window.

He walked out to his own truck when he finally heard his phone go off with a text message. "That's the thing Taro." He read aloud, scrolling down, he continued. "Makoto's not a man. You can't expect her to be one." He held back the urge to hit his head on his dash board, only replying to the text back. "Thank you doctor obvious." He kept his far more crass remark to himself. It wasn't something Saeko, or anyone for that matter, really needed to hear.

Ami looked at her calendar and sorted through the pamphlets she had been given the day before. She was told to track her cycle very carefully through an ovulation kit as well as coming in for regular blood tests. Makoto was puttering around in the kitchen, smirking to herself as she watched the shorter woman mutter something about her calendar as she fidgeted through her checkbook.

"What exactly is it you're fidgeting around with?" She had finished washing the dishes, clicking dials on the stove to preheat.
"I'm checking when my next period will hit." Ami answered only half paying attention.
"In your checkbook of all places?" Turning to the new cast-iron pan Makoto had bought she coated the inside with lard.
"Yes. Some of us actually use the small calendar in the back instead of just scribbling it out." The amusement in the wintry voice had its intended effect.
"It's too small to write in. You can barely put a dot in a square anyway." The tall brunette explained as she went to the fridge for vegetables.
"Ironically, all you have to do is put a dot in it if you want to just quickly glance." Walking into the kitchen Ami reached for the bill on the top of the fridge.
"I guess." The oven beeped, signaling the end of the preheating and she put the pan inside carefully, setting the timer for two hours.

Makoto then joined Ami as she fidgeted through the pamphlets and placed them into a neat, organized pile. Turning to the bill, she paid that by her cell phone using an electronic checking number, filling it into her check book with her pen, writing in very neat script. After that she called the bank, Makoto staring intently the whole time as Ami went about the bookkeeping. There was something very alluring about the way Ami was toying with that pen, even if Makoto couldn't place what it was.

She shook her head to clear herself of her inner thoughts, returning to the kitchen to prepare a few salads for lunch. The counter space was small, but manageable. She couldn't say it was easy to prepare food though, and she wasn't fond of how small the stove top was. Given the fact that it was only a two burner style top, she couldn't prepare a lot of food. It was much smaller than Saeko's kitchen, and that was one thing Makoto constantly grimaced about.

As she slaved away at her wooden cutting board dicing, mincing, and roughly chopping most of the vegetables for the salad, her eyes remained focused on her blade while her mind remained elsewhere. Makoto could honestly say she felt conflicted about the day before. She hated any form of doctor office, no matter what it was for. The smell reminded her of death, her parents always came to mind at such thoughts. It was easy to forget such places weren't only for sad memories. Still Makoto was a creature known for habit, and a few bad ones made a good show yesterday.

She had diced the onion a little too finely she realized, a particular jealousy arising at the thought of the actual exam. The woman was just being professional, surely she knew that, and yet, a part of her couldn't say she was fond of some of the tests that went on. Logic stated it would happen, but there was the emotional attachment that just screamed Ami was hers and hers alone. "Damn." She grimaced as she went to the carrots, her frustration was abusing the poor onion, and she needed a tougher opponent.

With her usual skill she went back to work, again thinking about the visit. It had opened up a few options; all of them were long running. Ami apparently needed to track her cycle, and while that was all well and good, the fact remained that they had come across the first road block. Ami was notorious for having an odd cycle. Some women were just cursed to having horribly irregular periods, and Ami was one of them…needless to say that could make tracking one less than a simplistic endeavor.

Other things were thrown back and forth during the visit. The many ways for the insemination to be possible being one of the more lengthy discussions. Recommendations for changes in diet and vitamin intake were only a few of the added things. They had to wait a couple days for some results on a few tests, but nothing major and over all it seemed like a fairly easy appointment.

Well, in addition to the admission later that night when Makoto had told Ami how she had wanted to rip the doctor's arm off, but that was beside the point. She growled at the memory inwardly causing her spectator to giggle. Her mind wondered when Ami had waltzed into the kitchen but didn't bother asking. "Stop that. You'll break the cutting board." Ami was far too amused for her own good, but Makoto just sighed, finishing her salad preparation, shoving it into a large chilled bowl with the greens already inside. Putting it onto the card table somewhat tensely caused her to spill some of the water and clear soda that were on the coasters.

"Cheap piece of crap." She garbled in aggravation finding a towel. "We need a better table…thing will break and we'll need to eat off the friggin' floor."
"Someone's just a little testy." Ami was far too amused for her own good. "Care to say what's on your mind."
"You don't want to know." The smirk on Makoto's face had an evil twist and it was clear what was going on.
"You'll need to be nice you know." Ami sighed; she knew it hadn't been easy on the taller girl yesterday. "I can go on my own if it bothers you too much."
"It's fine." Makoto wouldn't have had such an inwardly short fuse if her memories in such places weren't purely negative. "It's the place, not the people."
"I figured that much." Ami went about to eating her food, watching as Makoto paced around in the kitchen restlessly. "Why not relax for a while?"
"I can't." That annoying itchy feeling came back and she walked again. "It's back...I hate this tingly thing..."
"You really should start taking medicine for that." Makoto fully ignored the statement and Ami simply rolled her eyes.

Makoto had Restless Leg Syndrome and as a result, sometimes she had irresistible urge to make the sensations go away. Some people didn't need medication, while others found that they really relied on meds for everyday activity. Makoto normally found that martial arts kept it mostly at bay, and on occasion she did yoga before sleep to help stretch her legs. They were very long and often because she sat in the seiza position often, she found herself having the issue later. There were many occasions she was frowned at for sitting in very unconventional fashions simply because her legs got highly irritated otherwise. Sometimes it came in her arms and that wasn't an enjoyable experience either.

Ami continued eating, watching Makoto fidget for a few moments more before sighing. Pushing her plate to the side for now, she stood dragging Makoto with her. "Where is it right now?" She asked as Makoto sprawled out onto the floor knowing where this was going. Even while lying down her agitation made her bend her left leg so that the feeling would go away.

"In the back of both knees." Makoto almost whimpered. It was very frustrating and rarely a painful feeling would transpire too.
"Don't tense up." Ami ordered softly trying to massage the feeling out. Makoto would have tried to walk it off for hours otherwise.
"Can't help it." Her fidgeting was something Ami had learned to get used to over the years. "Gah, just chop off my legs, it would be easier."
"Not really." The retort was soft but scientific. "Ever heard of phantom limb sensations? It's the same basic thing but worse."
"Why must you make that into a literal statement?" Makoto's tone almost pleading a she allowed Ami to continue keeping the annoying feeling away.
"Why must you suppress an urge to pummel anyone you happen to see in a white lab coat?" Both girls knew the answers to both questions.

The afternoon edged on into the evening as Makoto finished seasoning her cast-iron pan and spruced up the kitchen. When the annoying feelings finally went away, she found herself showering and soaking in a hot tub, Ami leaning against her front. They always shared a bath together since it was one of the more tranquil times of the evening. After eating a good meal nothing complimented it better than a hot soak in a tub.

"Have I ever told you that your hands remind me of claws?" Makoto's amused voice pulled Ami out of her current fascination.
"Oh, why pray tell is that?" She continued to run her nails across Makoto's forearm lightly, not making the connection.
"You run your nails down everything." Makoto lifted the busied hand. "It's like you're a cat." She punctuated the statement by kissing Ami's hand.
"Speaking of cats, guess who you get to bring home from the vet tomorrow." Ami's tone was light and airy.
"Aw crap." Makoto winced remembering last time she had to deal with Luna. "That cat has me on her hit list."
"I'd be aggressive too if I was chased all over the house by someone much larger than me." Ami answered honestly.
"I'd be even more pissy after getting locked in a vet's office." Makoto deadpanned. "Why did they want her over night again?"

Ami laughed, Makoto had seemingly mentally blocked the earlier conversation over a stew pot dinner. "She had to have an ID chip and an update on her flea and tick medicines. I also made sure to ask them to trim her nails so they weren't as sharp." Makoto looked annoyed and Ami couldn't help but laugh. "What now?"

"The poor vet." Makoto sighed "That's all I'm going to say…the poor vet."

The next day Makoto got off work early in the afternoon. Working with construction had taught her a lot but she was still merely a trainee. She glowered in frustration as she grabbed the steering wheel, a splinter in her hand would need removal later. After work she had picked Luna up from the vet and was now driving back to the apartment where everything was now fully in order.

Two cat dishes found purchase on the half wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. The dishes were both plastic and light weight containers. It was makeshift for now, but it worked. The enclosed litter box had found its place in the corner of the bathroom, and the front room was a cyclone of cat toys scattered around for Luna to do what she may with them. Ami had also bought a log roughly three feet in length for Luna to use as a scratching post and had shoved it in a spare corner on the floor out of the way.

Grabbing the stick shift, Makoto felt the jab of the splinter again and ignored it as she pulled the car into park. Luna had been hissing and yowling in displeasure, not fond of the carrier in the slightest. As Makoto picked up the crate from the floor of the side seat where Luna had been before she clambered out of the truck and headed into her apartment…Luna making a fuss the entire way.

When she hit the apartment, she released the angered feline from the cadge being sure to stay out of the way as the cat zoomed out, crashing into the sofa at high speeds before sharply turning into the kitchen, sliding into the wall where she immediately hoped onto the counter top and then the fridge, growling at Makoto menacingly, ears back, and highly aggressive.

"Nice kitty." Makoto's voice etched with annoyance. "I don't like you either, call it even." Looking at her watch her noted Ami would be home in twenty minutes and dinner hadn't been started. Taking one step into that kitchen would be a very bad idea, and that's where the food was. Sighing she called her lover leaving a message on her phone. "I hope you like takeout because the damn cat just hijacked the fridge."

TBC~~~

Please read and review. For those of you who care the A/N is below.

For those of you who don't know what Restless Leg Syndrome is, let me tell you a little rant. SITTING SIEZA IS A PAIN! Quite literally, for someone who doesn't have RLS the feelings are indescribable. Some people equate it to ants walking in their legs, itchiness, numbness, prickly feelings, it's hard to explain and most people who don't have RLS never understand how hard it can be to deal with. In Japan, where sitting formally, bending one's legs under yourself on the floor…do the math please.

My mother and I both deal with it, and let me just to you, the martial arts and yoga things are life savers. I've never had the pain that can come with it, but for those of you who read this and have RLS, this chapter is for you especially since I personally feel as if not enough people even know what it even is, let alone that it actually has a name and can help to be treated or dealt with.

Some of you may notice I westernize the houses and descriptions a lot, know why that is? Simple, it's because I try not to sit seiza anywhere if I can help avoid looking like a complete and utter idiot. It's not so bad if I can sit what America calls pretzel style, (you know, with your legs in a pretzel, think back to sitting on the floor in grade school you may know what I mean.)

However in Japan, normally, only men sit like that, and it's a very casual way to sit and I would not recommend doing it unless you know it is allowed. I would not recommend females doing that at all. There are ways for women to sit casually too, but I'll just say I don't care how you sit, it's the fact that not moving the body part (aka; legs, arms, ect.) is the cause of the issue and movement stops it causing almost instant relief as long as you keep moving.

Anyway, just a little insight on what RLS is, since I don't know if everyone even knows of it.

So yeah, in reference to a few questions on the westernization of the houses and other basic things, that would be why...it's due to my own little hate of the floor or any flat surface that causes me discomfort, like currently my computer chair...I'm off for a late night run on the treadmill before I go to bed. Please leave a review.