Usagi wasn't sure what had led her to go to the Moon Kingdom that night. She strode among the dust and rocks of the ruins, the powdered remains of her fallen kingdom clinging to the Guardian uniform she wore. Something had drawn her and now she was walking upon the surface of the dead world she had not known how much she'd loved until it had been much too late to save it. Walking softly, she stepped past craters, deep cracked holes leading deep into the heart of the satellite. A thin layer of dust settled over everything. Stars hung all around the sky, like sparkling diamonds scattered on black velvet. She gazed at them, drawn to the green and blue orb far off in the distance. Her second home. It was her home, wasn't it? When she'd lived on the moon, she'd always loved it, that planet so full of wonderful things, yet forbidden to her. Most of all, that world's prince was forbidden to her, yet she had fallen for him and in that fall had been her kingdom's ruin. She shook that thought from her head. It hadn't been her fault that Beryl had loved him too yet had been spurned. Not her fault that Beryl's grief over her lost love had led her to ally with dark forces and attack the Moon Kingdom. Wiping her tears away, she continued her trek to the ruins of the palace so many happy hours of another life had been spent in. It was as grey as rock though it had once been gleaming white just as the courtyard had once been an emerald sea of grass, a long, sparkling blue river coursing through it. Two domes crowned the pillared palace.

Memories flooded her mind. A lonely princess beneath a heavy-branched, leaf-laden tree, waiting for a lover that would never come. At last, the princess headed back to her palace, away from the deep, secluded gardens, her heart in turmoil. Why hadn't he come, just as he had for so many years? Lost in the memory, Usagi pushed open the wide door, groaning as she felt ancient hinges protest being used, squealing as the door opened at last. She stepped into the palace and mystical light flooded the place, antique technology or enchantments turning the lights on at her presence. Was it because she was princess or would it be done for anyone?

She wasn't princess anymore, but rather queen, but she could not acknowledge that for fear of being drowned in grief. A long hallway stretched out before her and, not sure where she was going, she began to stroll down it. It was strange to see it so quiet, empty of stone faced guards and chattering lords and ladies, boring politicians making long-winded ramblings that never seemed to get to a point to other, equally boring, politicians. Usagi chuckled as she felt Serenity's memories bubbling up inside of her. Politics had never interested her, those idiotic power plays of the nobility. As princess, her desire had been to uplift and improve her people's lives, not to increase her own power though such a thing would not have been possible.

Each night she would sneak out into the garden and there she would meet her beloved Endymion and they would lay together until dawn, speaking of his world's troubles, her occasional spats with her friends or relatives, his fractious fights with other members of his world's nobility. Both of them were chased, pursued like trophies. They shared their deepest fears and anxieties in teary whispers, holding each other close, feeling their troubles melt away into the bliss of love.

They met each other often when they were alone, at first because she was captivated by the beauty of his world, the endless green meadows blooming with colorful flowers unknown to her, the deep and dark forests where ancient branches crowded out the sun. While she was not an easily frightened girl, it was frightening being so far from home in a mysterious, wild grove, but he had taken her hand and willingly she followed, his strong presence easing her fears.

She remembered the first time he had shown her the ocean and he had then splashed her. She had been in shock for a few moments before laughing and splashing him back. Together, laughing, they had fallen into the ocean and played until the tangerine colored sun had sank into the depths and she had had to return to her Lunar home.

For a long while, she stood in the throne room, memories washing over her. That Endymion had been playful, yet burdened with command. Her Mamoru loved her, wanted to protect her, but was not nearly so playful. That darkness of his early years cast a long shadow over him.

But there were times when that old, playful prince-his impulsiveness, his passion-came out in abundance. Like that time he had laid her down and kissed her. And she could tell he genuinely enjoyed their dance that night. Endymion and Serenity lived on in them, but she could not say if she was Usagi or Serenity, nor could she say if he was Mamoru or Endymion.

Most of the time it didn't even matter. They had the same scent, her Mamoru and her Endymion. Sweet cologne and a masculine musk that soothed her soul. They had the same way of gently cradling her in big, strong arms. They had the same soul, were the same person, but in a different time and place. Pausing, she realized she could detect that scent and her sensitive, battle trained hearing had picked up on the tread of footsteps just behind her. She whirled around, suddenly alarmed, her heart striking her chest. How had she allowed someone to sneak up behind her? Upon seeing who it was, her heart rate slowed again, her whole body relaxing. Endymion-Mamoru-was standing there, in his guise as Tuxedo Mask. He strode towards her, laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I got your note. Is everything alright?"

She had slipped it beneath his door while, she presumed, he was away at the library. She moved towards him, threw her arms around his neck, inhaled that scent that had comforted her for two lifetimes. He embraced her, burying his nose into the golden tangles of her hair. "Are you alright?" A note of worry made his voice slightly tremble as he asked again. Nestling into his chest, nearly drunk on the memories of her present and former lifetimes brought on by his scent, she didn't answer right away. He pushed her slightly away. "Usagi?"

His voice could only be described as calmly frantic, a tone only he could carry off. Usagi cursed her own idiocy. She had left him a hastily written note simply telling him to meet her on the moon. The last time she'd come here it'd been for a crisis, not that he'd been here for that. Likely, he thought that she'd been possessed and a revived Queen Beryl was going to pop out. Smiling, she kissed him and drew away. "I'm fine. I just…wanted to come here."

"How come?" He let her go.

She held her head. "I'm not sure."

"Are you looking for something?"

"Maybe." She paused. "I need to apologize."

He raised an eyebrow. "To who?"

She looked away. "You."

He caressed her cheek. "What? Why?"

"I remembered something from when I was Serenity. I had heard from who Amy used to be of an Earth custom of celebrating anniversaries and since it was ours I decided to buy you a gift. But you never came that night."

The memories flooded over the both of them.

Serenity tossed and turned in her bed. The earth light flooding her bed chamber reminded her of nought but broken dreams and her broken heart. Endymion had not met her that night, surely he had met someone else, some Terran noble woman, like that sorceress Lady Beryl who had petitioned for his hand. Why else would he not show up for three whole weeks, not even sent him a letter? Though she had not gone out to their meeting places, not set foot on Terran soil. She was too afraid of him not being there. Why could he not send her a letter if she was mistaken and being misled by her jealousy? Were Terran princes not taught how to write? She was terrible at it herself-chiefly due to her laziness during her lessons-but she could do it if she'd had to. She was suddenly alerted by a knock on her window. She nearly called her Guardians, asleep in the next room-Jupiter and Venus were on night shift this week-but decided against it. Hope bloomed in her heart and she strode over to the window. Indeed, it was her beloved though clandestine husband (a bond they had solemnized in a half-forgotten temple staffed by a half-blind priest) Excited, but nervous, she opened up the window and took his hand. Her heart fluttered at what he might say as he set his foot upon the floor. He suddenly took her in his arms and kissed her fiercely, a kiss she melted into, before breaking away. "Beloved? Why hath you not come to me for more than a fortnight?"

He paused. "I came, more than a fortnight ago. You were not there."

"Twas you that was not there!" She pulled away.

His wife's wrath confused and hurt the young prince and he drew back as if struck. "Sere, I know I was late and had tarried in meeting thee, but only because I had to attend a meeting of the council in my father's stead. He sickens and soon…"

Her eyes widened and she felt a blush of shame cover her cheeks. Had he not told her of the troubles his own world had? If anyone should understand the duties sometimes thrust upon a royal heir before they were ready, it should have been her. Still, she wanted to hold onto the moral high ground she was rapidly losing. "Why did you send me no letter?"

"And if such a letter had been intercepted? I thought your Guardian was going to un-sex me the last she caught us together."

She giggled nervously. "Mars is really nice, I swear."

"I'll take your word for it. You could have come to my palace."

"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore." She sniffled, choked back tears. "That perhaps you had found another."

He sighed, which was like a blast of magic in the silent space. "Is this because I'm still trying to find a polite way to say absolutely not to Lady Beryl?"

She crossed her arms. "No isn't that hard to say."

"Not when it's to the Witch Queen of the North. You do not understand, the Golden Kingdom is just barely being held together, Father is putting a lot of pressure on me to at least consider a peace match. If I could change places and make my realm as happy as yours, I'd do it, I assure you." He crossed the room, lifted her hand, kissed it. "Serenity. The only one in the galaxy I love is you. I thought you understood that." The hurt seeped into his voice.

Serenity's moral high ground seeped away and she burst into the tears she'd been holding back, throwing her arms around him and muffling her sobs in his chest. "I'm sorry! I didn't know you'd come, if I had just waited…"

He comfortingly caressed her hair. "I forgive you, my love. Please forgive me for not seeking you out."

Their lips clasped together.

…

The memory shared between them passed and they returned to the present, were Mamoru and Usagi again. Mamoru shook his head as if trying to force himself to return to his present self. "I didn't know we'd gotten married."

She lightly punched him, smirking. "Endy! How could you forget our wedding day?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you remember?"

She shook her head. "I remembered it in a dream about a week ago."

"And didn't tell me?"

"Thought you knew. Wonder what else we can't remember?" She clapped her hands.
"Oh, right! I was so happy that you still loved me that I forgot about the gift I'd gotten for you. The next time I saw you…" Her voice trailed away, trembled. "It was the last time."

Even now, the memories came to them in fragments. The armed mob confronting them, the slash of the blade that ended his life even as he tried to protect her, falling upon his blade even as the world ended. She could still feel the cold steel ripping into her stomach, then the peace of death beyond the sorrow she could not face.

He cupped her face, drew her close, wiped away a few tears while ignoring the tears that threatened to spill down his own cheeks. "So, you never got to give it to me. It doesn't matter. That was a long time ago."

She pulled away, tugging at his arm. "But it does matter! I still want to give it to you!"

He allowed her to pull him, trying to keep up with her quicker stride. "Usagi, I don't even know if it'd still be around!"

"It should be! I asked Amy-well, who she used to be-and she said it'd last forever!"

He was now running alongside her, not sure why they were running, but enjoying it. "What did you get me?"

She slowed. "I can't tell you that."

They tread over the floor, the red carpet somehow still there after so long. Mamoru hoped that the stairs had been just as lucky. He glanced up at the long, winding staircase, the red carpet leading up them. He tested the banister, giving it a shake. It fell, ripping away from its ancient foundation and clattering on the floor. Usagi grabbed his wrist and pulled him from the ledge. He inched closer to her, putting an arm around her, partially for safety, partially to reassure her, partially to reassure himself. She returned the gesture, held onto the other banister which proved more stable than its counterpart. They began to walk towards the second floor. Mamoru smiled to himself. In another age, this would have been impossible. He could have visited on diplomatic missions, he could've kissed her hand (even her feet, though that would have been an exaggerated display of vassalage though the resultant blushing may have been worth it). Yet, he never could have held her so close to him. Never been her equal. Her enemy or her vassal. Those were the only options they were able to do in public depending on how exactly their kingdoms had been getting along. The constant shifting of the political landscape had nearly driven him insane and so often he had longed to renounce his heritage, run off with her to some remote corner of the universe and live their lives in peace.

Careful what you wish for, the dark thought came and he held her a little tighter.

They had often talked of how things would be different when they were king and queen, how they would marry and unite their realms in love and peace, but there were unspoken things. How three centuries had passed, but she was still an adolescent, but in maybe six decades he would be old. When she shared her body with him, she also shared the magic of the Silver Crystal and it rejuvenated him, but neither knew what the ultimate effect of that would be. And that was to say nothing of the cultural tensions. Serenity had once compared it to a stepfamily. Would the children get along? The Death Priests were no friends to the Star Priests, but the grisly rites of the Terran priesthood had come under increasing scrutiny so maybe-he had hoped-his people were ready for a new faith.

He shook his head of thoughts of what might have been, leaned closer to her and took joy in just being near her. Now, they could be together, but the price had been so high very dark corners of both their minds asked if it had been worth it.

They stepped up the stairs, clutching each other at every step in their fear that their foot would slip and send one of them tumbling over the edge. Both could fly, but if startled, well, it might not end so well. A long row of doors greeted them. After all this time, he still knew where her bedroom was. She knew he knew that as well and a not-so-virginal blush spread over her face and a giggle escaping her lips at some more pleasant memories of the Silver Millennium. She recalled one time the prince had come and she had escorted him to the guest room.

That had been a fun week.

She'd ignored the clouds of war on the horizon, the gathering storm between their worlds, the tide of rising hatred and resentment on the Terran side, the bigotry and arrogance on the side of the Lunarians. Ancient prejudices stirred up by a mysterious enemy they had failed to comprehend. Yet, in their own little world, beneath the covers, they had been happy. (If they'd ever been caught…the thrill had made it all the sweeter.)

Returning her mind to the present, she stood in front of her old bedroom, pushed open the door, gasped at what she saw. Her bedroom was just as she'd left it, as if countless millennia had not elapsed. A pink veil fell down the four wooden posters of the bed. An oak wood chest of drawers was at the right side of the room, pushed against the wall. If she'd open them, would she find the neatly folded dresses of that era? Everything else had somehow been preserved. She crossed the room, opened a drawer, pulled up a pink skirt. In the closet at the back of the room would be ornate gowns. The simpler dresses were for her day-to-day training, classes that hadn't always been tedious, occasionally addressing the Parliament when she had something of value to say on some debated edict or other and gathered up enough confidence to say it. Her life had been purposeful then; she had been moving towards something. Before Sailor Moon, this life had been like moving through a fog. Eat snacks. Nap. Half-hearted attempt to study. Repeat.

Had some part of her missed this life? After class or Parliament, she'd spent more time than she should have wandering the garden, sipping tea with her Guardians who had become her friends.

It had all fallen. A world had fallen. Because of their love, Paradise had been damned and had it really been worth it?

The dress was swimming before her eyes. It had not been her, but Beryl. Beryl who in her misery had to inflict her misery on others. The tears fell at last, grief for two worlds long dead, for dreams that would never be fulfilled. While lying entwined on a bed of grass they'd spoken of how their love would unite the Golden Kingdom and Silver Millennium.

Instead, both kingdoms had died. The tears came and would not stop. She felt his arms wrapping around her. She turned, pressed her face into his chest. He held her close to him, running his fingers through her golden tresses. "It's alright. Cry if you need to." The breath from his whispered words tickled her ear. He cradled her in the shelter of his arms, let her pour out her belated mourning for the world that had and could have been. He didn't know if the gift she'd gotten for him still existed, but it was enough just to be with her. She'd never needed to get him a gift, but he was curious to see what it might be, what could have survived the relentless march of centuries.

At last she wiped away her tears, paused, then reached up to wipe away his own. "It's got to be in here somewhere." She scrunched up her face in a way Mamoru found adorable. "Um, I think I forgot where I put it."

"Well, it has been thousands of years."

She had dropped the dress during her fit of melancholy and she rifled through the clothes. Not finding what she was looking for, she shut the drawer and yanked open another one. Mamoru cleared his throat. "Mind if I look to?"

She looked around. "What? No way! It's my gift for you! It'd ruin it if you found it!"

He chuckled. "If you say so."

Sitting down, he was reminded of another lifetime by the bed's softness. The softness of her skin, the softness of her hair spilled out on his bare chest, the softness of her soul in listening to him without judgment as he bared his soul to her.

She continued her search, grumbling in frustration, even dragging one drawer to the ground, cursing as it clattered there. Searching through the clothes, she grumbled angrily.

Mamoru stood. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"No! I mean yes!"

"Um, what?"

She knelt as she opened the last drawer. "I can find it."

"If you say so, Bunny."

"I do say so."

"Of course, Your Highness."

"Darned straight Your Highness." She muttered this and then groaned. "Well, it's not in there." She slammed the drawer shut and hurried to the closet, trying to jump up to the shelf above her. The realization struck her that she was not taller in her former life and she found a set of wooden steps that she climbed up on. Mamoru, alarmed, strode up to watch over her, holding her hips. Usagi smiled in a tolerant way. "I'm not going to fall." She paused. "But thank you."

She ran her hand over the shelf, found nothing there. With Mamoru still holding her (she wasn't complaining), she began her descent down the steps. "You don't have to be so protective. I'm not going to trip." As she spoke, she missed the last step and tumbled backwards into his chest. A scarlet blush enflamed her cheeks. "Not one word, Tux Boy."

He bit down on his lip. "I'm not going to say anything." He wrapped his muscular arms around her. She nestled into him as he scooped her up bridal style.

She smiled, threw her arms around his neck. "You can put me down."

"There's a difference between can and want, Usako." He placed her down, playfully swatted her bottom, delighted when she squealed in pretend outrage. (A virgin princess, she was not.) She smiled at him, then glanced to the bed. He smiled at her.

…

About twenty minutes later, they were both feeling very rejuvenated, even if Usagi kept rubbing her bottom and was slightly walking funny. Mamoru yawned, his hand entwined with hers. She leaned against him and he pressed his head against hers, still shivering lightly at the memory of their recent physical oneness, still not wanting to completely separate from the all encompassing feeling of love and warmth such union brought. Part of him thought whatever the gift they were searching for had been a victim of the relentlessness of time's passing. Their love, at least, had survived. They passed by the throne room that was now hers, but that she did not wish to claim. He squeezed her hand and she rested her head into the crook of his neck. Despite her cheerful attitude, they were walking through the ruins of her fallen kingdom. That her spirit could yet survive and even thrive despite that heavy burden of grief was one of the many reasons he loved her. She pulled him along and he willingly followed behind her. "The only other place I would have put it is in one of the girl's rooms and the only one that actually approved of our relationship was-"

"Venus?"

"Good guess."

It hadn't been a guess. It had been a flash of memory, of the mischievous blonde guardian watching over them in the rose garden, a smirk on her features. He took her hand and squeezed it gently while she pushed open the door to the room next to her bedroom and walked inside. Mamoru had never been inside this room. The pink sheets on the bed were crumpled up, the guardian likely thinking she would return to make her bed in the evening that a world had died. A harp was against the wall, having been collecting dust these long ages, but it looked like it could still play. Usagi casually strummed it, walking past the brightly colored clothes on the floor. It must have been her laundry day when…

She shook those melancholy thoughts away. The darkness that had twice driven her to run a sword through herself was trying to take her again. Idly, she ran a hand along an ornate, bright orange dresser. (The Venus of that age loved bright colors as much as the current one did. Usagi didn't know why that thought comforted her. Some things never changed.)

Opening the drawer, she was greeted by the crumpled up dresses of that elegant age. She searched through them until she felt something hard, gasped when she saw it was a dagger. Of course it was. The only one more enthusiastic about combat was Jupiter. (Their original names floated at the top of her mind. She couldn't quite grasp them.) Pulling it out she saw it was a rusted hilt and the blade had long ago dissolved. Carefully, she placed it back. Fully expecting a bomb to go off when she opened the second drawer, she hesitated and then opened it. Rifling through the clothes, she stopped when her hand brushed up against something warm and pulsating. Her heart sped up. Despite what she'd said, she had thought that the magic had long faded, that she was leading her beloved on a fun, but fruitless, wild goose chase.

But it had lasted. Somehow, through the long ages, it had survived just as the sorcerer who crafted it had claimed it would (that sorcerer whose once exalted bloodline had degenerated until it culminated in the powerful, but insane, Wiseman.) She found the golden necklace, lifted it. Hanging from a pendant encased in glass was a bright, pulsating star. Mamoru, an expression of awe on his face, approached and touched it. It was warm against his palm.

She placed it around his neck. "It's a wishing star. I wished we would be together forever."

He held her close, laid a kiss upon her brow. "It came true."

She snuggled close against him, in the familiar shelter of his embrace. Standing in the empty castle was getting to him, weighing on his already melancholic nature. Sensing the brooding silence, she pulled away, grabbing his hand. "You know what we never got to do back then?"

"A lot of things?"

She pouted. "Dance. Well, we did sometimes, when you were in disguise, but never in the open without disguises."

He smiled. Like always, her happiness broke through his darkness. She was a ray of moonlight in the dark night of his soul. Her hand in his, they walked from the room. She closed the door behind her and hurried towards where she remembered the dancing room was, very carefully taking the stairs down. Feeling mischievous again, he swooped her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her down. Walking beyond the throne room, an atrium widened before them. He set her down while she placed her hands on his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her waist. They swayed to music that wasn't there, she humming tunes that had not been heard in that lifeless place for long ages. He grasped her and she deepened her hold around him, laying her head against his chest. The prince and princess whose kingdoms had long since turned to dust danced to the half-forgotten melodies that she sang in a low, faltering murmur. Tears trailed down her cheeks at the crushing waves of memories until he suddenly twirled her, then took her down into a low dip. A giggle escaped her lips at the suggestive movement. They twirled again as if a harp long since silenced was guiding their movements and then he pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss, both of them holding the other tightly before they pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed. "I don't remember that part of the dance." She giggled and he caressed her face, trailing his fingers down her neck. She leaned into his soothing warmth, his presence erasing the sorrowful memories that could have drowned her. "I'm getting sleepy." As if to confirm this fact, she yawned.

He smiled, kissed her forehead. "It's getting late." Two thoughts warred in his mind. He should do the honorable, gentlemanly thing and take her back to her home. Her bed.

Not his.

He didn't want to let her go this night. She seemed far too vulnerable. She tightened her grip around him in a silent plea for him to not let go. "Endy…" She blinked, reminded herself of when she was. "Mamoru. Would you stay with me this night?"

"I really should take you home."

A slightly pouty tone entered her voice. "I want to stay with you."

She simultaneously loved and hated the nobility of his spirit. He sighed in acquiescence. "Alright. You can stay with me."

She rested in the cradle of his embrace and smiled. "I can teleport us. Hold on."

He did. The light of the Silver Crystal's magic enveloped them and when Mamoru opened his eyes they were standing by an alabaster fountain in the middle of an isolated tree strewn part of the city. The wind rippled the moonlight dancing on the waters.

Usagi was still in her Sailor Moon form. With a playful grin, she lept into the air, teasing him into following her. He lept after her, the cool air whipping all around him. Wispy clouds floated in the sky they were floating through and they rolled around them. She reached out, clasped his hand. Beneath them was the vast and sprawling city. They were high above the buildings, so high that crystals of ice clung to them, glistening in the mixture of moon and starlight. In their current form, they could not feel them. He saw his apartment complex, began his descent. She glided alongside him. With the ease that came from long practice, he stood on the ledge while Usagi gulped, looked down and squeezed his hand so hard that he winced. He opened up the window. "Even if you fall, you can fly."

"I know, but if I slip I might forget."

A smile tugged at his lips and he lifted her in his arms, bending his knees so that a strong wind would not send both of them sprawling. The phrase "bridal style" to describe how he was carrying her kept coming into his mind and making him grin like an idiot as he stepped into his apartment, finally leaving his transformation behind. She did as well and he reluctantly let her go.

His apartment had once been such a lonely place, a solitary sanctuary for his dreary thoughts. Though the hour was late, she skipped across the floor in her bare feet and pounced on onto the bed. Her antics made a warm feeling bloom in his chest, some instinctual primal desire to protect and cherish her. He moved towards the bed, slid beneath the sheets.

She snuggled up against him. Her head filled the cavity between his arms and chest like her warm presence filled what had been an aching emptiness inside his soul. Her arms wrapped around him and she felt the warmth of the gift she'd given him yet wrapped around his neck. It amazed her that it had survived, amazed her still that it had taken so long for her to get it to him. In a moment, she was crying.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" He wiped at her eyes.

It was Serenity's grief, yet also hers, for she was Serenity, just with a lifetime of new experiences. "Endymion." She called him by his true name, the name of his soul. "I'm sorry. I know I already apologized, but I want to again. Our…our last night together and I forgot to give you that gift. I wasted so much time being jealous and insecure and even now I am; I don't even know why you love me-"

He cut her off with a kiss. "I love you because you cry out your feelings any time you want, even over things that happened thousands of years ago at one AM when we ought to be asleep."

She laughed so hard her stomach hurt and lightly slapped his shoulder. "Jerk."

"But I'm your jerk."

"Damned straight you are." Her kiss left him breathless. They nestled close, let sleep take them, dreamed of dancing among the stars.