Summary: Lun@ has a nervous breakdown (again); Haruka and Michiru learn the values of spying.
Warnings: Slashy overtones! Hints of shoujo-ai... kinda.
*****
I'm warning you,
Don't ever do
Those crazy, messed-up
Things that you do.
If you ever do,
I promise you,
I'll be the first to crucify you.
--"Call and Answer", Barenaked Ladies
*****
She stood in front of the mirror, hair down from its normal tight braid. Now that she had given up her past and dedicated herself entirely to the art of death, she had no need for hair; hair was a waste of time--frivolous, for materialistic people.
Her hair had grown; instinctively, she knew the length was all wrong. At least it was straight, and she would not have to waste precious time coaxing it back in the morning. And maybe, by the time it grew back out, she would have
atoned for her mistakes. Perhaps she would be strong again, unbeatable, untouchable. Perhaps they would let her back into the Death Angels Squad, and she could reap souls like before, when she had been strong. Perhaps then they would assign a real angel to Buffy, to guard and train and assist her.
She would destroy this evil, and they would see how good she was at death, and then they'd let her come back for sure. It would be the only logical, kind choice, and angels were notoriously bound by kindness, if not always logic. It would be the only humane thing to do, both for her, and for Buffy. For her--friends.
Raising the scissors, she began to cut. Snip--snip--snip! She studiously didn't watch as pieces of hair fell into the sink and onto the floor. Her hand began to tremble slightly, and she couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or Weak Tendencies.
Snip--snip--sni--
"What the hell are you doing?" someone cried, and the scissors were wrenched from her hands. She whirled around and held herself up with the sink, hands shaking even more. Damn vampires and their lack of reflections! Oh, why hadn't she shut and locked the door? At the time, it had hardly seemed important, but now...
"Angel, I--" she whispered, but forced herself not to answer the ridiculous question.
"Have you gone completely insane?" he cried, and reached out to her head to take a fistful of the hair left. "Look at what you've done! Okay, I know something terrible happened, but you've been acting dead ever since you got back. Snap out of it, get over yourself, do whatever you have to do, but talk to me! Talk to Buffy, talk to
someone."
"You--"
"Are you listening to me, Diab? You're not Death anymore, and you can't go back to it right now. Do you understand that? You're a guardian--Buffy's guardian, and I'm not going to sit around and watch her die because you're too stuck in insanity to do anything!" He lowered his voice and softened his tone as he realized they were drawing a crowd. "What happened?"
She didn't speak, but her eyes were wide, and he realized they were full of tears. She pushed him away, suddenly, hard, and sidled out of the room, keeping her back to the wall.
"Lun@," Buffy said quietly, and stepped forward as if she were approaching a wounded, cornered dog.
Dog. Could she...?
She gave it her best. She really did. She just couldn't find the form, couldn't figure out which way to
think to slip into the new body. She couldn't do it. Even this, so natural earlier, was denied to her...
"I'm going out patrolling," she heard her voice say, remarkably calm.
"Okay," Buffy said, after exchanging a glance with Giles. "I just need to get a stake and we can leave."
"I don't need you."
"Of course you don't," Buffy soothed. "But I'm the Slayer. It's my job to slay. Here, I--"
"No!"
"Lun@--"
"Diabolique!"
"Diab--" Angel tried.
"Stay back!" she told him fiercely, and he blinked in surprise at her vehomence. "You're not coming!"
"It's alright, Angel's going to stay here," Buffy said, again placating. "We'll be able to handle all the big scaries on our own."
"No one else!" she snapped, and heard the hysterical sound of her own voice. "Just you and me," she said, trying not to sound crazy.
The group was silent; they just stared at her. Buffy, sending off as many waves of calm normality as possible, picked her jacket up from the bed and checked the pockets for stakes. "Okay, Mr. Pointy and I are all ready. Let's go."
"You're just humoring me," she whispered, but allowed Buffy to take her by the arm and guide her out of the room.
"I'm always humoring you," Buffy said, tone reminiscent of banter. "You coming?"
She shook her arm free, but walked beside the Slayer.
*****
Going with Buffy had been a mistake. She knew that now.
Diabolique--as she insisted on being called--knew the slayer had only good intentions when joining her, but the constant company, constant chatter, constant feeling of being tested and found lacking was starting to play hopscotch on her last nerve.
Anyone else would've found themselves suddenly alone, but this was Buffy, whom she was sworn and bound to protect by the black choker around her throat. Diabolique had never realized before how symbolic it was, being collared. Being able to change into a dog. Being bound to serve. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to hate Buffy, or even resent her a bit, and that lack of hard feelings perhaps troubled her the most.
It was only when she lifted her stake to kill the vampire and suddenly found herself holding that silly
gray thing that she knew she hadn't left the temple to kill bitey things.
Luckily, Buffy was right behind it with a stake made of *real* wood, and it wasn't the quick,
anticlimactic end to Diabolique that she had feared.
"You okay?" Buffy asked, and then pointed to the grey stick. "Where'd you get that? And what is it?"
"I don't know," she answered, and glared at it. "But I have a feeling I'm going to find out tonight." She looked up to the moon as it hung in the sky. Low on the horizon, it looked larger than normal, and, strangely, a bit yellow. "I need to see the prince."
"Prince?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want to--?"
"The Earth Prince, Endymion," Diabolique cut her off, a hint of a smile on her face for the first time since she'd returned. "Not the artist Formerly Known As."
"Oh, that Prince." Buffy nodded. "Sailor Moon's squeeze."
"Him," she agreed, and coughed a little.
"Well," Buffy said, and brushed some dust off her jeans. "Let's go, then."
Stuffing the stick in her pocket, she winced as the cut on her face throbbed suddenly.
*****
"Ami?" Taiki whispered, and she turned her head towards the light.
The blue haired girl smiled and marked her place in the book, setting it down. "You're awake. Would you like some water?"
"You didn't leave," came the hoarse whisper, and the tired girl's eyes softened. It was strange but very nice to see the hardest of the three brothers--sisters?--smile so warmly and gently.
"I said I wouldn't," Ami responded, and reached out for the other's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," Taiki answered honestly. "And a bit thirsty. And grubby." She wrinkled her nose.
Ami laughed. "Seiya and Yaten gave you a sponge bath earlier. They wouldn't let anyone else touch you. Would you like to see them? They haven't gone too far."
"That would be nice," Taiki said happily. "I missed them so much... When I... when I was in the dungeon, I thought they'd been killed... I was... And then, that other girl was in there with me... Lun@? And she fell so quickly... it was nice to feel needed. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Ami replied.
"How is Lun@?" Taiki asked.
"Strange," Ami said. "Her cuts and bruises are healing nicely, but mentally... I'm not so sure."
"It was bad," Taiki whispered. "What they did to her. It was really bad."
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Ami cleared her throat. "I'm going to get Yaten and Seiya. I'll be back shortly."
*****
"Hey," Buffy said softly. "You okay?"
"I..." the reply was cut off by a small coughing fit.
"Lun@, what's wrong?"
"I just..." she wheezed, "need a minute. Hang on."
"Ready?" she said after a moment. This couldn't be the girl who beat her up a week before, who'd been tutoring Buffy in various chapters of the ever-elusive Slayer's Handbook ever since before Christmas when she first appeared.
"Let's go," she replied, and pulled away from the wall she'd been leaning on. "We're almost there." She pointed.
His apartment building was tall, and Buffy could see from where she was that each one had a tiny balcony. Cozy, and she said as much.
Lun@ only shrugged slightly and muffled another cough. "I guess."
Thankfully, there was an elevator in the hallway, because Buffy was concerned for her guardian, that she might have another strange fit of illness on the way up. The elevator ride was fairly uneventful, but Buffy suddenly turned to her companion when an idea flew into her head. "Hey, how do you know where he lives?"
"How do you know you walk on the ground?" the girl returned, leaning against the wall. "I just know."
"That's really weird," Buffy warned.
"I know." The elevator dinged the floor, and they walked down the hallway until they reached a certain door, and Diab knocked.
A moment went by as they waited. "Are you sure this is the right one?" Buffy finally asked.
"Yeah," she responded, and an elderly man opened the door.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Is Chiba Mamoru here?" Buffy asked after a slight pause.
"Next door to your right," the man told them, and closed the door.
Buffy raised an eyebrow and prepared to make a snarky comment, but she cut it off at the look on Lun@'s face. Raising a hand to the other's forehead, she ignored Lun@'s attempts to move her head from Buffy's hand and frowned. "You're really warm. You feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, finally succeeding in brushing the other off. "Come on, next door."
Knocking at the next door yielded Mamoru. "Buffy!" he said in surprise. "Lun@! What are you doing here? Come in."
"Actually," Buffy said, correctly interpreting a Look from her friend, "I have to go finish patrolling. Lun@, why don't you stick around and chat with him for a while?"
"Diabolique," the girl remembered to correct this time, but allowed herself to be ushered in by a confused Mamoru.
"I'll see you later, Diab," Buffy said to her back, and gave Mamoru a meaningful look concerning the other girl's health.
"Tell the others I'm doing research," she responded. "Don't let them..." Don't let them see my
weakness.
"Have a good time. Research much." Leaning closer to Mamoru, she whispered, "Keep an eye on her. She's been messed up since she got back."
He nodded. "I'll do what I can."
The door shut, and she left the apartment building to go kill some more evil beasties.
*****
"Can I get you anything?" Mamoru asked his guest, now that they were alone. "Some coffee or tea?"
"Tea..." she mumbled, sitting in an armchair.
"I'll be right back." While on his way to the kitchen, he stopped to pick up the medical textbook he'd been reading,
marking his page with a piece of folded notebook paper. He set the tea out and put the water on to boil going back to check on her. "Are you alright?"
"I..." she murmured, and put a hand to her head. "I cut my hair..."
She had... and poorly. With a sigh, he picked up a pair of scissors from the desk drawer and put a towel under her and draped another over her shoulders. "I'll just even it up a bit on the edges."
"No bangs," she mumbled, clenching the towel close to her body. "I hate bangs."
"No bangs," he agreed, and they were silent for a while as he trimmed the ragged, choppy hair. When he had finished, it came only to her mid-upper back (except in the front, the part she hadn't gotten to when Angel caught her), but at least it looked okay.
After he cleaned, he left her sitting there to take the boiling water off the stove. When he had the tea prepared, he carried it out to his living room on a tray to find the girl pacing.
"Lun@, what's wrong?" he asked gently.
"I'm not Lun@," she answered back, just as quietly. "I never was. I just took that name because it seemed familiar. I was Diabolique for a while--a long while--but that's not who I am, either." She wheeled around and looked at him. "Who am I?"
There was a confused look on his face as he put the tea set down on the table, but then he smiled suddenly. "You are who you are."
"That's a very nice sentiment, but I need to call myself something. I need to know who I was, and who I'm trying to be. I need to know what I did so that no one will tell me about my past. I need to know why I'm sick." She held up the
gray wand that was suddenly once again in her hand. "And I really want to know where the heck this keeps popping up from!"
He caught it easily as she tossed it to him, and obediently looked it over again. "It almost
feels like a senshi transformation wand."
"But it's not," she said, and sat down in the chair across from him. "It's giving off some sort of energy signal.
Henshin sticks are dormant until they're activated, and then they disappear."
"Maybe it doesn't disappear," he suggested. "Maybe it's still active."
"But, that would mean..." she trailed off, standing again.
"You're still transformed."
"But I'm not a Senshi," she protested.
"How do you know?" Mamoru tossed the rod back to her, and she fumbled to catch it. "Why don't you try un-transforming, see if you can."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't even know if I'm transformed, much less how to un-do it!"
"Relax," he advised. "I'll try to describe what it's like for me, when I change back from being Tuxedo Kamen. Okay?"
She nodded, and stopped pacing, standing still. "What do I do?"
"Close your eyes. Take a deep breath--that's right. Now, there's a faint buzzing power at the very back of you mind. It's barely noticeable, right? Well, you're the one making it buzz--so just let it stop. Let it go, you can always call it back."
She had a brief moment of panic; calling magic hadn't been her strong suit lately. But Mamoru's voice was deep and soothing, and she let herself trust it, and suddenly she felt it flicker and sizzle out, and she gasped as a rush of--something--left her. She could feel something drain from her body, like the blood was draining from her face, and her feet didn't touch the ground, and then she lightly touched back down...
Her legs gave away under her, and she allowed herself to collapse on the carpet,
gray wand pulsing lightly in her palm.
Mamoru was at her side in an instant, putting a hand to her head to feel her temperature. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
"I... Mamoru? Am I...?"
"Can you stand?"
"I..." Hysteria entered her voice. "I can't feel my legs. Mamoru, I can't feel my legs!"
"Relax," he murmured, and picked her up and moved her to the couch. "It's probably just the surprise of the magic leaving."
She blinked, a little dizzy, and leaned back against the cushions.
*****
"Are you sure this is necessary, Haruka?" the woman asked, lowering her binoculars. "It seems a bit suspicious."
"I don't trust her," the other woman said in a hard voice. "Taiki said she nearly betrayed us."
"Yes, but it was under torture." Michiru frowned. "I'm not saying we shouldn't keep an eye on her, but it feels wrong to spy on the Prince like this."
"I just want to make sure he's safe."
*****
"How do you feel?" he asked, carefully watching her. Ever since she'd fallen, she'd looked--different, somehow. There was a fragileness to her, where there'd previously been strength. There was an aura of exhaustion about her; it made him tired just
to look at her.
"Weak," she finally replied. "I'm not sure that was such a good idea."
"This seems familiar," he said.
"Familiar." She frowned. "But I... this is..." She began to shake a little. "I'm so confused... and I still can't feel my legs!" Putting a hand to her face, she began to sniffle helplessly.
"Lun@, calm down," Mamoru said softly.
"No!" she cried. "I don't want to calm down! I don't know who I am, except that I seem to be evil, no one will tell me my past, I stole a name from a cat, and now I'm paralyzed! My legs don't move, and I j-just want to d-die, and I don't even have a good reason anymore!" She raised her other hand and covered her eyes, nose, and mouth, shaking uncontrollably. Her breath shuddered
every time she inhaled, and she could only take in air in gasps.
Mamoru placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but felt surprisingly inadequate to handle this. Being a generally nice guy, he felt an urgent need to handle this situation, to do something that would make her feel better--but, short of slapping her, he couldn't think of a way to snap her out of what was quickly approaching hysteria.
It was then that he felt the questioning presence. Glancing over, he saw the Spirit Jenny Calendar had
summoned earlier, standing transparent in the room. "I can help her," he said, speaking directly to Mamoru's mind.
Mamoru thought back, "How?"
"I need to take possession of your body." The Spirit took a step closer. "She is too emotional to
visit me in the spirit realm right now, and there is no magic field for me to walk in."
Mamoru frowned.
"No harm will come to your body," he said. "Upon that I swear. No harm will come to any of you."
"Do it." Mamoru braced himself as the Spirit slid into his body; suddenly he was passenger of his own form.
"Hush, little one." It was his own voice speaking, but it wasn't him. Mamoru sat back to watch as his hand rested atop her head and gently smoothed her hair. "It's alright."
"I'm broken," she wept. "It's not alright."
"You are the way you were made," he whispered.
She looked up, and blinked her red, swollen eyes. A fat tear slid down her cheek amidst the smearings of old tears and snot. "Kalguna?"
Mamoru could feel his lips curve into a smile. "Yes, little one."
"Don't call me that. It makes me feel stupid." She sniffled. "And get out of Mamoru's body. He's gonna kill you."
"He agreed on a temporary possession," Kalguna said, and plucked a few tissues from the box on the table and pressed them into her hands. "There is nothing wrong with you."
"I beg to differ," Lun@ replied bitterly. She wiped her face and blew her nose in the tissues.
Kalguna brought the entire box over next to him and handed her a few more. He seemed, to Mamoru, to be deciding something. "Let me tell you a story--"
"Sod off--"
"--about a young girl. She lived in a kingdom far, far away. Her legs didn't work right, and she didn't have any magic, so one day she struck up a deal to become the
senshi of the planet Sirus in exchange for magic to make her body work right."
"Oh." She sniffled and blew her nose again.
Kalguna reached over and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. "Sirus gave her magic, and she went to Earth with the Ambassador of Sirus, where she met lots of people and made friends. Do you know what her name was?"
"Lun@?"
"No," he whispered, and she sniffled.
"D-diabol-lique?"
"Sade," he murmured, stroking her back. "Her name was Sade."
"Sade," she repeated. "Really? My name is Sade?"
"It is. It doesn't matter, though. It's just a name. Has it changed who you are?"
"My name is Sade?" She looked up at him and smiled suddenly. "My name is Sade!" Laughter bubbled out of her, and she looked surprised at its appearance.
"You need to let the power go every once in a while," he told her gently. "You can't stay transformed all the time. You need to release the energy and let it build up again. Half a day, then you can transform again."
"I'll be able to walk? And run? And, kill vampires?"
"You'll be healthy as a green vegetable." He rubbed her arm. Mamoru could feel her body relaxing against his, and wondered suddenly what their relationship was.
He wondered no longer as Lun@--Sade looked up at him and smiled brilliantly, despite her red eyes,
blotchy face, and rather soggy demeanor. "Kalguna..."
*****
At Michiru's sharp intake of breath, Haruka looked over over her lover's shoulder. "What is it, honey?"
"That two-timing scum!" the teal-haired senshi of Neptune fumed. "What an ass--and with her, of all people!"
"What?" Haruka asked, and pulled the binoculars out of Michiru's hands--and growled when she saw Mamoru and the girl sitting on the couch, kissing each other. She was practically in his lap. "I knew there was something I didn't like about her."
They stared in a mixture of horror and fascination as the prince gently picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom. This was a bad, bad thing.
They would pay for hurting her princess.
*****
In the bedroom, Kalguna carefully laid Sade down on Mamoru's bed. "You've had a long day," he whispered, and stroked her hair back from her face. "I want you to get some rest, okay? Go to sleep."
"I'm not tired," she grumped, but settled down onto the pillows.
"Take care of yourself," he said, a sad smile on his face, and she could almost see his long hair swirling around him, and his dark skin glowing next to it. "Tomorrow you just have to use the
henshin stick and say, 'I call upon the power given to me: Sirus Planet Power, Make up'."
"Okay."
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I... I have to go."
Mamoru found himself suddenly in his own body again, feeling like he'd witnessed something private. "Um... well, goodnight." He squeezed her hand and dropped it, moving towards the door and turning out the light.
"Don't go," she whispered into the darkness. "I--uh... I don't want to be alone."
He smiled and sat down on the bed next to her. "You're not alone." He lay back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head. Mamoru could tell by her breathing that she was asleep, and thought how similar their situations were.
Lun@--Sade, actually--didn't know her past. She had no family, only a few friends, and hid her loneliness and frustration under a mask of sarcasm. Sounded a lot like himself. But, now that the past had reunited him with Usagi--his Usako; he smiled fondly--he had friends in the
senshi, a place to belong. Family.
Maybe, somehow, Sade could find her family, too, through the Slayer and her friends, or maybe now through the
senshi. After all, she wasn't alone.
No one is alone.
