Sometime later we all were gathered in our sitting room at breakfast. Mrs. Hudson was irked at having to cook for four extra people, but Holmes proved so persuasive that she eventually relented, taking no less then three trips to the grocers for foodstuffs.
Holmes and I sat at the dining table alongside Miss Moon and Mercury, while Mars and Neptune ate quietly nearby. Holmes refused to eat anything and subsisted only on coffee, based on his claim that the mental faculties become refined when starved. Fortunately, Miss Moon and I were of the opposite opinion, for Miss Moon had devoured three plates of eggs and a half dozen sausages before I had even finished buttering my toast. Her companions eyed her with either embarrassment or amusement at such an appetite, and I glanced over at Holmes. He was pouring himself a second cup of coffee when Miss Moon leaned forward.
"Come on, Mr. Holmes, "she coaxed. "Youhave to eat something. It's not good for you."
Holmes smirked over his cup. "Is that motherly advice?" he asked, clearly mocking the thirty year age difference between them.
Miss Moon sipped her milk defiantly. "No, Luna advice."
Holmes paused. "Luna?" he repeated. "Are you telling me you take counsel from the goddess of the moon?"
"No, my cat."
Holmes nearly spit out his coffee at that, and I threw my hands up in surrender. It was obvious Holmes and I would have to completely prostrate ourselves before the god of absurdity if we were to come out of this business sane. Miss Mars glared at her blond friend as she requested more marmalade for her toast, and Holmes burst out in a merry laugh.
'I wouldn't let the Scotland Yarders know of this case for all the world!" he cried.
The day passed slowly, with Holmes explaining patiently to us his plan of action. It would require courage and alertness, trust and deceit in the form of disguise. Once again, Mrs. Hudson answered Holmes call for help. That afternoon, I saw with pleasure our young guests in our rooms, having been dressed in the latest finery for ladies.
Miss Neptune wore black, her hair done up in a simple style. She was to follow our party in the rear and come forward only as an emergency last resource, as her abilities were extremely powerful offensively.
Miss Mars wore a violet walking dress with white plumes about her occasional hat. Her hair was artistically curled around her cheeks and neck where a ruby broach hung. Her task was to stroll alongside Holmes in as friendly a manner as possible while she served as an intuitive bodyguard.
Miss Mercury had a simple gown of electric blue with sand coloured gloves with a bonnet, and Miss Moon wore an evening dress of white, complete with a furry shawl to keep out the cold. It made her appear a bit older, and she wore it as if it was something she was used to. These last two Guardians were to accompany me in a carriage close behind Holmes and Sailor Mars that evening. The mission was to lure Mimete and the monster into an ambush, and I was to be armed not with my pistol, but with pen and paper. Holmes described it to me thus:
"If Sailor Mercury is correct, and this city, nay our very lives, are written word by word and page by page from the imagination of another, I believe you, Watson, may share something in common with that force. Don't interrupt! Your writings have, after all, made my name a household word, created my career, and shown me the value of your friendship beyond the realms of romantic fiction. The only value I could gleam from your writing was, at first, the sharing of my methods, to teach the world the value of logic. Rare indeed, is logic, while crime is commonplace. Yet logic seems to have no place in the realm of magical crystals and miracles. So, what is the force? Imagination! Supposition and finding oneself justified by taking action. So be my man of action, my dear Watson! Write with the crystal pen, and if my theory is correct, your words will lay the groundwork for victory for us all."
"Then I shall help you with all my heart," was my reply.
So it was, that evening at seven after a brief supper, that the six of us were gathered. But Miss Moon was very uncertain about the idea.
"I don't like this at all," she fretted. "It's just not right for innocent people to get involved in our battles."
Miss Mars looked at her friend in sympathy. "Sailor Moon, we've been over this,"she replied. "We can't just search blindly for Mimete and the daimon, leaving Mr. Holmes and the doctor alone."
Lady Neptune once again stood with arms crossed. "Innocent people have been put at risk before for our mission, and sometimes it's necessary for the bigger battles to be won."
Miss Moon, however, was adamant. "But it's wrong!"
All the Guardians sighed in frustration, and I spoke up.
"We all appreciate your values, Miss Moon. But this is no time to stick to trifles. We must face this danger head on if we are to defeat it. That's just the way things stand. A man doesn't run when lives are at stake."
"Indeed." Holmes, who had been sitting in silence near the fire for some time, sprang up from his chair. "Normally I would never involve women in such danger, but considering the risks taken so far, we must carry it through to the bitter end. These monsters must be brought to heel."
Miss Moon swiftly stepped forward towards Holmes. "But what if it goes wrong?" she demanded tearfully. "What if the mystical Silver Crystal fails? What if, in wanting to protect my friends, I take my eye off you and the daimon attacks? It would take your soul, Mr. Holmes, and then you'd die!"
The poor girl was veering on hysterics. Suddenly, I realized the reason. Sailor Moon wasn't weeping due to fright or the risks involved for her friends, but for the very real possibility that Holmes himself might experience pain. But her intense, empathetic pleas didn't make Holmes falter in the least, and he faced her with an iron-eyed look.
"Be brave," he commanded quietly. "If you do as I have told you, we will soon destroy the monsters that threaten us."
But Miss Moon continued to cry even harder. Holmes looked at me with pained confusion, unsure of what steps to take. I started to move forward when, to my very great surprise, Holmes suddenly put his arms around the shaking girl. He patted her head fraternally and assumed his usual gentle air when dealing with a distraught client.
"Hush, now!" he whispered. "Hush and control yourself. Miss Moon, please stop crying…"
Miss Moon whimpered, and Holmes' grip tightened around her shaking shoulders. After a few more moments, he shook his head with a look in his eyes that was very near tenderness.
"I trusted you," he said at last. "Can you not reciprocate in kind for me? Please?"
Miss Moon gave a loud sniffle. "Big words," she blubbered.
"What?"
"Why do you have to use such big words?"
A chorus of groans and giggles echoed through the room, and even Holmes smiled sadly as he pulled out his handkerchief. Miss Moon wiped her eyes, and Miss Mercury stepped forward and touched her shoulder.
"Sailor Moon," said she,"he's trying to tell you that-you need to believe in him."
At this, Miss Moon stood quietly, a frown pulled on her little mouth. She glanced back at Holmes, then took a deep breath with her eyes closed. After she had calmed down, she released herself from Holmes' gingerly embrace.
"Alright," she said softly. "Alright!" she repeated, loudly with conviction.
"I won't lose to any of this. Because," she paused and set her eyes firmly on the troop.
"Because… I believe in Sherlock Holmes!"