-----------------
Scandalous!
by: Koneko
divinepheonix@hotmail.com
Genre: A Regency Romance -- Humor?
Season: Alternate Universe
Rated: PG-13
-----------------

"What the heck is going on?"

Serena restrained herself from unleashing more explicit language. She looked around, raised an eyebrow, pinched her elbow, and slowly began to walk backwards. Her golden high heels-a gift to herself for getting the job-clicked beneath her crisp jeans as her steps continued. Shifting her suitcase to the other arm, she tightened her jacket and prepared to flee.

It was not possible. There could be no plausible reason for why she was… well, here. Serena pulled in a breath and then began coughing, attracting more unwanted attention. A few people had already reigned in and were speculating about her. It had to be another wacky dream. But damnit, when you're in a dream, you never know it's a dream. Serena shook her head, wondering if she had gone crazy.

She looked down at herself, still same old Serena, blond hair, baggy coat, and comfortable jeans. She closed her eyes and willed the images to go away, hey, if she couldn't see them, you never know. The neighing of horses remained constant. The stench was around. She cracked open an eye and stopped herself from fainting, what were you supposed to do in a panic? Serena stopped, was she in a panic. Damnit, she was going to have a heart attack. Not possible, not possible, not possible…

"Excuse me?"

Serena looked up and up, and up some more, until her sight came into contact with a woman sitting on a horse, nose in the air, feather drooping. "Yes?" She ventured.

"Are you lost?"

The voice itself was cultured, and practically dripping with disdain. Serena's automatic reaction was to smack her a little but she figured that even if you're going crazy and this isn't real, one had better be careful. She looked back up at the woman and shaded her eyes from the sun. Well, screw caution, just let the lady think she's crazy.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

The woman sniffed, as if the idea that a person had no idea where one was was a completely preposterous idea. She flipped her hair and fluffed the drooping feather before she looked down her aristocratic nose and offered a strained smile.

"Why dear," she dripped, trying to be kind, "You're in Hyde Park."

"In England?"

That seemed to be about enough for the 'well-bred' lady, "Well of course it is! Where else would it be? The jungles of America?"

Serena's jaw was slightly agape, but she managed to stutter, "A-and the year?"
The woman acted as if a stupider person was not possible, but she obliged the question, much to the amusement of the gathered audience, "Why, 1817, of course."

As if Serena wasn't worth her time any longer, the woman turned the reigns, and trotted off.

* * *


A suitcase was open on a large, pillow covered bed. Clothes were strewn about a small, apartment room, and in the center of the chaos stood two, equally mussed, young women.

"This is going to take forever," the shorter one muttered.

The taller one humphed, her brown hair flipping from one shoulder to the other, "It's only because you're incapable of staying clean."

"I'm sorry I'm not Betty Crocker, Lita."

"Betty Crocker's a cook, doll, not a housekeeper. Now, lets think about what you need. Where are you going again?"

The shorter one plopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling before letting a small smile spread across her face. The excitement eventually bubbled up and she started folding clothes once more.

"Oh, Europe, can you believe it? I've dreamed about traveling there for such a long time, and now-It's almost too good to be true."

"Honey," Lita said, draping her arm over her friend's shoulders, "Nothing's ever too good to be true."

* * *


Since sitting on the suitcase wasn't getting her anywhere, and she obviously wasn't getting any younger, Serena decided to start walking. Where, she had no idea, but this entourage of followers was starting to get annoying. They'd stand around, sitting on their horses or in their carriages, tittering about what a peasant girl was doing in Hyde Park, and why she just couldn't seem to get up and leave.

If she heard the word 'bedlam' one more time, she was going to scream.

Not to mention that there was more than enough attention from the opposite sex to go around. They just couldn't seem to get over her feet, apparently scandalously encased in shoes that showed her toes-oh god, don't let it be so!-and why, a poor man's pants. She was making a spectacle of herself; someone should go over there and offer her some protection.

After pondering for a little while longer, she finally decided, got up, and began to walk away.

The questions started immediately.

"Where are you going Miss?"

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"Are you sure you'll be safe all alone?"

And the mutterings from the women.

"Well, good heavens she's gone."

"You don't think there's more of her, do you?"

"That poor, ignorant girl."

She was going to snap soon. She knew it. Her hands were itching for a shoe, a wadded up piece of paper, something to smack someone with and then say she didn't do it. However, if they weren't already convinced that she was a menace to society, then jumping up and down screaming that they should mind their own business was not going to make them any more amiable.

Maybe she did belong in Bedlam… but she'd be damned if she would be in it in a dream. Some nice insane asylum somewhere in nomansland would be just perfect. Perhaps they'd have some cartoons and she'd be able to play chess with the man who thought he was Edgar Allen Poe. That would be some good times.

Her suitcase was starting to get heavy. She switched it to the other arm and noticed cold seeping into her jacket. Looking up at the sky confirmed the idea that she was in for a long night. She investigated her surroundings before deciding that yes, she was in London-at least in a dream--, and yes, it was becoming nightfall and all types of shady characters would be out and about.

When she noticed the streets becoming broken, she decided to go the other way. Getting accosted by a drunken, disgusting sailor was not what she was going for tonight. She looked at her watch and wondered if it still worked. Well, if you add the hours… eight o' clock seemed about right. Still too early for the baddies to come out.

When ten, eleven, and finally midnight came around, Serena realized that she was stuck. Somehow, she had ended up in London, in 1817 of all time periods, she had no money, no food, no place to sleep, and it was getting colder and more dangerous by the minute. At least she was in the safe side of town-she hoped. Huge houses towered on either side of her, and it was getting harder to see the road in front of her.

Serena sat down, sanity be damned, and removed her pretty golden-colored high heels from her feet. She realized she was bleeding, which must have been from miles of walking in the too-high-for-me heels, and now she was paying for it. Keeping her feet off the street, she opened her suitcase and searched for a pair of socks and shoes, and quickly donned them. Pulling on an extra sweater, she leaned up against a fence, and began to cry.

* * *


Lady Mina Ashings looked out of her carriage window and sighed. Her light blue eyes watched the streets go by, wondering why things just couldn't go right. Her outing earlier that morning had taken a turn for the worst when her dressmaker on Bond Street had decided that her order for some Baroness was more important than one for a Countess. Well, that wouldn't happen again. Now, the objective of another day was to find a better designer than Holly. She sighed, that would be almost impossible.

Then of course, she had gone to an impromptu ball expecting to meet a nice young gentleman whom she could amuse herself with for a few hours, but instead some young dandy had gotten nervous around her and spilled punch all over her dress.

She would bet her favorite pearls that the people were still tittering about it.

Her eye caught a part of interest lying bereft on the side of the street. Well that was odd, the poor people knew not to set foot on this side of town. She motioned for the driver to stop before staring at the person some more, wondering. The woman's clothing was odd. Her shoes attracted a particular interest in Mina, looping this way and that before tying off at the top; the mechanics of it puzzled her. She was wearing an interesting pair of peasant britches, and a heavy shirt over some type of jacket. However, what captivated her most was that a person dressed like a peasant was so clean, and her hair so shiny.

She got out of the carriage and moved towards her a bit. Perhaps she was a prostitute in a brothel, but that didn't really explain what the lady was doing lying on a dirt road. Approaching the girl became an interesting matter, as she didn't want to awake her and cause unnecessary loudness and perhaps put her own life in danger. It was midnight, and one never did know.

Shrugging off her own good sense, Mina bent over and examined the mystery woman more thoroughly. Her eyes caught on the hands in amazement; they were smooth and clear of all calluses.

Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she motioned for the cab driver to bring the girl into the carriage. What a project she had picked up.

The woman momentarily awoke and began mumbling nonsensical things in a language she didn't know. Mina looked at her half opened eyes and wondered aloud, "What could your name be, dear?"

The girl responded, "None of your business," and promptly fell back into sleep.

Mina was amused and angry at the same time. Amused because the woman had the gumption to insult her, and angry that she had done so. She had never been snapped at before. A smile covered the Lady's face as the carriage made its way through the streets of London to a town house.

* * *


Serena slowly became conscious and felt the cushion underneath her first. Well, at least she was back in her own bed. Which, in other words, meant that the entire 'London' experience had just been a bad dream. She began stretching and felt luxuriously guilty for sleeping in, although she didn't know why. Wincing at a pain in her feet, she opened her eyes.

And screamed.

------------------

First, for a little bit of history. Hyde Park was a very popular, well, Park way back when in Regency times. The park itself was for nobility to walk, ride, and socialize. All les grandes dames (the elderly ladies whom all women had to get along with or risk being chasitzed and ignored) sat there and learned the latest gossip.

Now, bedlam. Bedlam was a very popular place to send crazy people back then--and they treated you really badly. Hence the reason why Serena wouldn't want to go there.

Now, I'm sorry I ended it like that, but hey, it seemed like a good cliff-hanging spot. If you're wondering where I'm going with this story, then e-mail me. But it will be a Serena-Darien romance, I just need to build a little background first. As soon as that happens, well, let the sizzling begin ^^

As a last note, a little bit of black mail from me... I already have the second chapter finished. If you guys like this and I get a lot of notes on it, you'll see the second chapter soon.


-Koneko

E-MAIL/REVIEW! E-MAIL/REVIEW! E-MAIL/REVIEW!
divinepheonix@hotmail.com

http://www.sailormoon.net/~koneko
*Koneko