Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Or Pillsbury. Or Pier 1. Or Superman.
A.N: Sorry for getting this out so late. School's starting and I still have
to finish some summer homework which *ahem* I was supposed to have
finished like last month.
The Ties that Bind
by Emme
8/28/01
Part Three
"School sucks," a dejected Serena Tsukino muttered under her breath as
she made her way through the usual throng of people on the streets. It really
looked as if she had jinxed herself at Lita's. "Stupid teachers. As if learning
how to make cookies is a quintessential skill of life." But according to her evil
home-ec teacher, it was. Or at least that was the conclusion she had drawn from the
big fat "F" on her grade card. So what if she couldn't bake a decent batch of
cookies. Or make throw pillows. Or cross-stitch. This was the twentieth century!
Hadn't the woman ever heard of Pillsbury easy-bake or Pier 1? Giving an offended
sniff, Serena kicked at a pebble furiously, watching as it hit a public trashcan
with a satisfying clang.
Really though, it hadn't really been her fault. How could she have been
expected to pay attention to the art of chocolate chip cookie making with evil
psychos on her mind? Ok, sure some of her absentmindedness was natural, but add
to that the sleepless nights and almost daily ass-kickings, and you had a catatonic
nuclear hazard just waiting to happen. Serena blanced as she recalled the slightly
green, brown chocolate-spotted, mushy pile of goo all of her earnest efforts had
created. Her teacher's face had turned the same curious shade of green when she had
laid her eyes on it.
She dismissed the unfortunate incident with a shake of her blond pigtails.
Really, teachers should be kissing the ground that she walked on for all the
energy she spent making sure that the streets of Tokyo was safe. Briefly, she
entertained herself with the notion of telling everybody at school her secret.
A brilliant smile crossed her face. Hah, if they knew what a stalwart citizen she
was being, they would undoubtedly be worshiping the ground she walked on. Ah...the
possibilities. No more detentions, little or no homework, project extensions. Oh!
Not to mention being able to say that monsters really *did* eat her homework.
Serena smirked. She'd probably be able to coast through school on waves of gratitude
alone.
Yeah, in your dreams, the rational side of her taunted. Yes, let's
let the cat out of the bag. Bring on the paparrazi. Let Beryl know exactly who
you are and let her find you and torture you. Not to mention your friends and
family. Really Serena, brilliant idea there.
She bit her lip in consternation. She was only 16! 16! Girls her age
were supposed to worry about guys, their grades, and whether or not they should
color their hair, not the best ways to kill a youma. It really wasn't fair.
She wondered how her friends could stand it sometimes. She gave a sad sigh, her
heart going out to them. She supposed she had it easier than they did. SHE didn't
have to fight against the love of her life, her soulmate. In fact, she barely even
remembered the love of her life.
Endymion. The name only summoned vague memories of a dark haired man,
obscure feelings and emotions of warmth and comfort...and a deep, soul-binding love.
She ached to remember more so she could fully embrace those emotions as her own,
but now, with her partial memory, they were like shadows she couldn't grasp.
Her friends, however, could remember their loves. Though they, like her, had
only a dim recollection of their lives on the moon, they could put faces to their
feelings, could vividly recall moments they shared with their soulmates. Serena
cringed, remembering the first time the Senshi faced the generals in battle. It
must've been a knife in their hearts, seeing the men they loved and trusted working
for the one person who had destroyed their lives. After repeated attempts to reason
with them, her Senshi had been resigned to the situation, even going as far as
making light-hearted jokes as Mina frequently did. Serena suddenly felt a burning
anger for what she and her friends were being put through.
She really had to wonder just how smart people in the past were. Granted
she couldn't remember everything, but what made her mother and other people think that
a group of adolescent girls could protect the universe? What made them think that they
would be able to handle such a responsibility? They must've been oxygen deprived.
Yes, that certainly made sense. Now, upholding that responsibility required her to squelch
the childish urges she was currently having. Serena smiled ruefully, she'd have to go
through life the normal way.
Well fine then, she'd settle for the Clark Kent routine...but she wouldn't
be happy about it. That resolved, she pushed open the doors of the Crown Cafe...
only to walk right smack into the chest of a certain smug, arrogant, moronic
(and really she could go on forever with the adjectives) man.
Extricating herself from his chest, she took a step back to asess his
appearance. Her blue eyes widened as she took in his 3-day stubble, his mussed hair,
and his wrinkled clothes. One side of his shirt was untucked, as if he just hadn't
bothered to.
So, the smooth college man wasn't so smooth after all, she thought gleefully.
He looked tired and crankier than usual. But then, so did she. Her eyes narrowed as
she observed the annoyance spreading throughout his admittedly handsome face. Well, if
he wanted a fight, who was she to disappoint? Serena squashed the rationality that was
telling her to walk away and prepared for battle.
Really, if I can take on evil minions of Queen Beryl on a daily basis, an
insignificant human being like Darien Chiba should be no match for me.
At least, he SHOULD be no match for her. Pure, simple logic told her so,
but numerous field experiments had proved otherwise. It really was a mystery, the
difficulty she had with Darien, perhaps she should have Amy look into it for her.
That girl could figure out ANYTHING if she put her mind to it. Her thoughts were
rudely interrupted by the dratted man of her musings.
"Ah, meatball head, I was beginning to wonder when you were going to make
an appearance," he drawled, stepping out into the street.
That stopped her for a moment. "You were?" she asked, scrunching her nose
in confusion.
"Why yes, this week has already been worse enough." He paused, sidestepping
to let a harried woman pass. "An encounter with you would officially make it the
worse week in my entire life." He continued, eyes settling back on her challengingly.
Why, the nerve of that idiot! He was practically begging to be pounded
into the ground with verbal insults. Her eyes hardened as she offered him a
sickeningly sweet smile. "I aim to please," she drew out in a syrupy tone.
Darien tensed, his eyes narrowing as well. "Fail any tests lately?" He asked
just as sweetly.
Ouch, that was a low blow. She couldn't let him know that she had failed
home-ec. That provided enough fodder for him to insult her for the rest of her life.
She'd never live it down. "Wow Darien, that sure was original," she said, hoping
to draw the topic of conversation away from her grades. "For a hot-shot college man,
you sure are redundant."
"Ah...so you have."
Serena sputtered, completely outraged. Damn it! He was smarter than she had
given him credit for. The nerve of that jerk though! Not everyone was blessed
with a super humongous brain! Rage bubbled within her, threatening to overflow.
"Well that isn't any of your business!"
"So what is it this time?" Darien pretended to be puzzled. "Science,
english, or...math?" Here, he glanced at her wickedly. "Gosh, those multiplication
tables are a killer, aren't they Meatball Head? he deadpanned.
Serena fumed. "Why you low-life amoeba!" She crossed her arms haughtily.
"For your information, you scum, I happen to be in geometry! And you should talk,
you can't even remember my name!"
"Well, at least we know it isn't science." He said, not even acknowleging
her last comment. His eyes glinted a mischievous cobalt as he observed her
reddening face.
"You complete and utter jerk!" She sputtered, too angry to think of better
barbs.
"Ouch, Meatball Head," the insufferable man began, "that really hurts
my feelings." Bringing both hands to his heart, he feigned being hurt. "I don't think
I'll survive such clever, caustic, vindictive insults."
Serena blew up, letting out the strangled scream she had been holding for
the last ten seconds. "Oh go to Hell!" Serena yelled, turning on her heels, her
desire for a double fudge sundae forgotten.
She quickly started across the street, bodily pushing frightened pedestrians
out of her path. Granted it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but she desperately needed
to get away from the irritating frat boy. Luckily, no one retaliated as the good
citizens of Tokyo recognized expression on Serena's face as the universal "I'm about to
fly into a homicidal rage, so outta my way!" look.
This whole thing had been a mistake, Serena thought, angry at herself. She never
should have gotten into it with Darien in her state of mind. Ah, but it was just
too tempting the little imaginary devil on her shoulder taunted. She shot an angry
glance at said imaginary devil and focused on her favorite fantasy: pushing Darien down
a steep, high, and preferably rocky cliff. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to dwell on that
as her communicator started beeping maniacally.
Serena sighed, silently praying to the powers that be that she wouldn't be thrown
two hundred feet in the air into a light pole. Again.
A.N: Sorry for getting this out so late. School's starting and I still have
to finish some summer homework which *ahem* I was supposed to have
finished like last month.
The Ties that Bind
by Emme
8/28/01
Part Three
"School sucks," a dejected Serena Tsukino muttered under her breath as
she made her way through the usual throng of people on the streets. It really
looked as if she had jinxed herself at Lita's. "Stupid teachers. As if learning
how to make cookies is a quintessential skill of life." But according to her evil
home-ec teacher, it was. Or at least that was the conclusion she had drawn from the
big fat "F" on her grade card. So what if she couldn't bake a decent batch of
cookies. Or make throw pillows. Or cross-stitch. This was the twentieth century!
Hadn't the woman ever heard of Pillsbury easy-bake or Pier 1? Giving an offended
sniff, Serena kicked at a pebble furiously, watching as it hit a public trashcan
with a satisfying clang.
Really though, it hadn't really been her fault. How could she have been
expected to pay attention to the art of chocolate chip cookie making with evil
psychos on her mind? Ok, sure some of her absentmindedness was natural, but add
to that the sleepless nights and almost daily ass-kickings, and you had a catatonic
nuclear hazard just waiting to happen. Serena blanced as she recalled the slightly
green, brown chocolate-spotted, mushy pile of goo all of her earnest efforts had
created. Her teacher's face had turned the same curious shade of green when she had
laid her eyes on it.
She dismissed the unfortunate incident with a shake of her blond pigtails.
Really, teachers should be kissing the ground that she walked on for all the
energy she spent making sure that the streets of Tokyo was safe. Briefly, she
entertained herself with the notion of telling everybody at school her secret.
A brilliant smile crossed her face. Hah, if they knew what a stalwart citizen she
was being, they would undoubtedly be worshiping the ground she walked on. Ah...the
possibilities. No more detentions, little or no homework, project extensions. Oh!
Not to mention being able to say that monsters really *did* eat her homework.
Serena smirked. She'd probably be able to coast through school on waves of gratitude
alone.
Yeah, in your dreams, the rational side of her taunted. Yes, let's
let the cat out of the bag. Bring on the paparrazi. Let Beryl know exactly who
you are and let her find you and torture you. Not to mention your friends and
family. Really Serena, brilliant idea there.
She bit her lip in consternation. She was only 16! 16! Girls her age
were supposed to worry about guys, their grades, and whether or not they should
color their hair, not the best ways to kill a youma. It really wasn't fair.
She wondered how her friends could stand it sometimes. She gave a sad sigh, her
heart going out to them. She supposed she had it easier than they did. SHE didn't
have to fight against the love of her life, her soulmate. In fact, she barely even
remembered the love of her life.
Endymion. The name only summoned vague memories of a dark haired man,
obscure feelings and emotions of warmth and comfort...and a deep, soul-binding love.
She ached to remember more so she could fully embrace those emotions as her own,
but now, with her partial memory, they were like shadows she couldn't grasp.
Her friends, however, could remember their loves. Though they, like her, had
only a dim recollection of their lives on the moon, they could put faces to their
feelings, could vividly recall moments they shared with their soulmates. Serena
cringed, remembering the first time the Senshi faced the generals in battle. It
must've been a knife in their hearts, seeing the men they loved and trusted working
for the one person who had destroyed their lives. After repeated attempts to reason
with them, her Senshi had been resigned to the situation, even going as far as
making light-hearted jokes as Mina frequently did. Serena suddenly felt a burning
anger for what she and her friends were being put through.
She really had to wonder just how smart people in the past were. Granted
she couldn't remember everything, but what made her mother and other people think that
a group of adolescent girls could protect the universe? What made them think that they
would be able to handle such a responsibility? They must've been oxygen deprived.
Yes, that certainly made sense. Now, upholding that responsibility required her to squelch
the childish urges she was currently having. Serena smiled ruefully, she'd have to go
through life the normal way.
Well fine then, she'd settle for the Clark Kent routine...but she wouldn't
be happy about it. That resolved, she pushed open the doors of the Crown Cafe...
only to walk right smack into the chest of a certain smug, arrogant, moronic
(and really she could go on forever with the adjectives) man.
Extricating herself from his chest, she took a step back to asess his
appearance. Her blue eyes widened as she took in his 3-day stubble, his mussed hair,
and his wrinkled clothes. One side of his shirt was untucked, as if he just hadn't
bothered to.
So, the smooth college man wasn't so smooth after all, she thought gleefully.
He looked tired and crankier than usual. But then, so did she. Her eyes narrowed as
she observed the annoyance spreading throughout his admittedly handsome face. Well, if
he wanted a fight, who was she to disappoint? Serena squashed the rationality that was
telling her to walk away and prepared for battle.
Really, if I can take on evil minions of Queen Beryl on a daily basis, an
insignificant human being like Darien Chiba should be no match for me.
At least, he SHOULD be no match for her. Pure, simple logic told her so,
but numerous field experiments had proved otherwise. It really was a mystery, the
difficulty she had with Darien, perhaps she should have Amy look into it for her.
That girl could figure out ANYTHING if she put her mind to it. Her thoughts were
rudely interrupted by the dratted man of her musings.
"Ah, meatball head, I was beginning to wonder when you were going to make
an appearance," he drawled, stepping out into the street.
That stopped her for a moment. "You were?" she asked, scrunching her nose
in confusion.
"Why yes, this week has already been worse enough." He paused, sidestepping
to let a harried woman pass. "An encounter with you would officially make it the
worse week in my entire life." He continued, eyes settling back on her challengingly.
Why, the nerve of that idiot! He was practically begging to be pounded
into the ground with verbal insults. Her eyes hardened as she offered him a
sickeningly sweet smile. "I aim to please," she drew out in a syrupy tone.
Darien tensed, his eyes narrowing as well. "Fail any tests lately?" He asked
just as sweetly.
Ouch, that was a low blow. She couldn't let him know that she had failed
home-ec. That provided enough fodder for him to insult her for the rest of her life.
She'd never live it down. "Wow Darien, that sure was original," she said, hoping
to draw the topic of conversation away from her grades. "For a hot-shot college man,
you sure are redundant."
"Ah...so you have."
Serena sputtered, completely outraged. Damn it! He was smarter than she had
given him credit for. The nerve of that jerk though! Not everyone was blessed
with a super humongous brain! Rage bubbled within her, threatening to overflow.
"Well that isn't any of your business!"
"So what is it this time?" Darien pretended to be puzzled. "Science,
english, or...math?" Here, he glanced at her wickedly. "Gosh, those multiplication
tables are a killer, aren't they Meatball Head? he deadpanned.
Serena fumed. "Why you low-life amoeba!" She crossed her arms haughtily.
"For your information, you scum, I happen to be in geometry! And you should talk,
you can't even remember my name!"
"Well, at least we know it isn't science." He said, not even acknowleging
her last comment. His eyes glinted a mischievous cobalt as he observed her
reddening face.
"You complete and utter jerk!" She sputtered, too angry to think of better
barbs.
"Ouch, Meatball Head," the insufferable man began, "that really hurts
my feelings." Bringing both hands to his heart, he feigned being hurt. "I don't think
I'll survive such clever, caustic, vindictive insults."
Serena blew up, letting out the strangled scream she had been holding for
the last ten seconds. "Oh go to Hell!" Serena yelled, turning on her heels, her
desire for a double fudge sundae forgotten.
She quickly started across the street, bodily pushing frightened pedestrians
out of her path. Granted it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but she desperately needed
to get away from the irritating frat boy. Luckily, no one retaliated as the good
citizens of Tokyo recognized expression on Serena's face as the universal "I'm about to
fly into a homicidal rage, so outta my way!" look.
This whole thing had been a mistake, Serena thought, angry at herself. She never
should have gotten into it with Darien in her state of mind. Ah, but it was just
too tempting the little imaginary devil on her shoulder taunted. She shot an angry
glance at said imaginary devil and focused on her favorite fantasy: pushing Darien down
a steep, high, and preferably rocky cliff. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to dwell on that
as her communicator started beeping maniacally.
Serena sighed, silently praying to the powers that be that she wouldn't be thrown
two hundred feet in the air into a light pole. Again.