AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the long wait, here's the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon, but I do, however, own the original characters in this piece. So, I'll sue you if you plan to take them without permission. Hmph.

Games of Subconscious
Chapter 1
dime_of_dreams@yahoo.ca




Sipping her coffee, she tried to rid her mind of the unexplained uneasiness that came over her in dizzying waves. She winced at the hot temperature as the dark liquid slid down her throat, leaving a burning feeling behind.

Ever since her mother's call yesterday, Amy began going through more and more unexplained panes of fright, not quite grasping the concept of the reason behind it. Ah, shit. She was just being paranoid. Maybe she didn't want to admit it, but the whole ordeal had shaken her up.

"Amy, are you all right?"

Greg. Lifting her head, she smiled at the nervous man. Greg was in his mid-thirties with dark brown hair that was beginning to thin out from all the stress he received from his long-hours job. Greg lived and breathed graphics, computers and overall anything that involved technology. He was a whiz, and the first person anyone thought to ask when they ran into trouble associating their job.

"I'm fine, Greg. Did you want something?" She fingered the coffee mug, her gaze closing in on his darting eyes.

He would've been a handsome man if it wasn't for his nervous state and panicky eyes.

"Oh. Ah, no. Just wanted to see if you were all right. That's all." He straightened his back, relaxed his jaw and nodded at her. "And since you seem all right, I'll advise you to get back to work. Coffee break is over."

Amy smiled. That was the guy she got to know over the last year. No nonsense, no time wasting talk that didn't involve work or progress of the company. As she was clued in on her first day, Greg lived and breathed computer graphics, and he made it his goal to make sure everyone else developed the same love for work as he did.

There was no arguing with him, not sense in pointing out that there was more to life than computers. Greg didn't share those theories, and getting onto his bad side was like requesting to be fired. While at work, all the employees tried their hardest at avoiding getting into anything that Greg wouldn't prove of. It was a game, and Greg held the upper cards. Whenever he wanted, he could have all their asses served on a silver platter.

With that warning, he nodded at her once more and turned around to yell at some other unsuspecting fool that didn't follow a certain regulation. All in all, Greg wasn't a person to fuck with, and it was fun seeing the new guys get in deep shit with him before they even started their careers as graphic designers.

She knew. She had been the new guy a year ago. Fortunately, Greg took a liking to her from day one so she didn't further than simple reminders. Nothing more. And for that she was the envy of the office. Greg didn't take a liking to anyone. She was lucky.

Fuck. Work. She'd have to get up or Greg would stalk back here and give her another warning. Something even she couldn't avoid. Shit.

Getting up Amy grabbed her mug and walked back to her cubical, occasionally waving at a familiar face.









James Walters was looking over the files, hoping and praying that the criminal's identity would suddenly become clear to him. He was quite frustrated from the lack of evidence left at the previous crime scenes. This concluded that they were possibly dealing with someone much more experienced than a first time serial killer. And Walters wasn't happy with the fact that he was still stuck in the same spot he had started with.

If he wanted to get the praise he knew he definitely deserved, and even a promotion, then he had to crack this case to show everyone that he was a first-rate investigator. This was his big chance to break out, and he'd be damned if he didn't take it.

There was a knock on his door. "Walters?"

Looking up, Walters shot out from his chair and walked up to his superior.

"Lieutenant," he answered, saluting the tall woman. "Are you here for the latest report?" he asked, dropping his arm to his side. Lieutenant Kingsly was a stern woman, but was easily charmed by a good working uniform. She was the one he set out to impress from the first day he started work. And so far his hard tries were in vain.

But that all would change just as soon as the murderer was behind bars due to his quick thinking and master detective skills. He noted that he'd enjoy the astonished looks on the faces of his colleagues once the big news that he was the one to decipher this confusing piece of puzzle got out. He imagined all the bright flashed of cameras, the flood of schedules for interviews to get a chance to question him about how he managed to place everything together.

Walters knew he was one to fantasize about the future before it was clear enough to be solid, but it didn't matter this time. He would be the one who solved this whole nightmare, he could just feel it in his blood.

"No. Walters, I've come to tell you that I have seen the lack of progress on your part, and decided to contact outside help to come and take over the investigation," said the Lieutenant, curiously eyeing the stricken detective for his initial reaction that was guaranteed to come the moment the news registered.

"What?"

"Yes, I have no choice."

Drawing a deep breath, Walters squinted his eyes and looked at the serious expression on Lieutenant's face. He wouldn't let her ruin his big chance. Not her, not anyone. "You can't do this," he shouted, enraged that she would even think of committing such a thing. "I've worked so hard to get here, you can't take it away from me now that I'm this far," he pleaded.

"Walters, I think you are interpreting this whole ordeal in the wrong way. This is not about you in the investigation. It is about finding the killer, which is something, from what I've witnessed, you are unable to do. We have to find this bastard before someone else dies, that's what is important," she pressed, her dark eyes sparkling with intensity and authority.

Walters was sickened that he sounded so fussy and dependent. That was not how he wanted to office to see him. Authorized, imperial, intelligent, yes. Dependence was something only new additions to this field of work carried. He definitely wasn't new, and high above such foolish traits. Still, it was his chance. And Lieutenant Kingsly wasn't going to screw it for him.

"However," she started again, and watched his eyes snap up at her as he came back from his mental musings. "I do think that you'll be of great assistance to the lead investigator, what with everything that you have learned in your time working here."

'Of great assistance'? He, be an underling of someone who was going to take his place in this? Was the wench serious? That was going to be more humiliating than getting kicked off the case.

"You cann--"

He was cut off. "Great, he'll be here tomorrow. Be sure to fill him in." With that said, Lieutenant Kingsly spun around and headed out the door.

"Fill who in? Who's taking over?" he yelled after her, but she was already gone.

Damn it. Some new guy was not going to replace him. But he didn't think he had a choice or say in this matter. And to tell the truth, he was afraid of getting bumped down should he make a scene and 'prove himself unworthy of his position' as Lieutenant Kingsly pointed out to all the newly promoted uniforms.




Detective Zach Westen sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that morning, just as the stewardess was passing by him. This whole damn flight was taking too long, and he wasn't a man of great patience. A bad trait in his line of work, as his superior liked to remind him from time to time.

He checked his watch and huffed when he noted that only two hours had passed since the time of departure. He once again rehearsed the reasons of why he was doing this in his head. He needed a change of scenery, he knew that much. And he needed sex, lots of it. Casual sex, with no strings of commitment.

Another man afraid of commitment, his sister always told him. He wasn't afraid of commitment, he corrected her every time. He just didn't need or have time for it. He accepted that before he got into this field. There simply wasn't any time in his busy schedule to come home and spend time with a long-term girlfriend, or even a wife.

Or maybe Zach didn't want to make time for any sort of relationship. He didn't have time or the chance to pour over that because the pilot's voice shook the noisy airplane and announced that they were ready to land.

Relief coursed through Zach. He didn't like flying on planes, there were many things that could go wrong. Ironic, considering he was a detective, and taking chances was required.

Sighing again, he sank back into the comfortable seat and tried to relax. He would to go down to the HQ and get started on this case. But first, he'd check into a hotel and get some sleep, or tomorrow he wouldn't be able to get anything done. And that wasn't an option.

Hopefully, it would be a get-in-get-out case, but he wasn't counting on it.