Aahahahahaha! I write again for the Sailor Moon crowd. Hurrah! This time,
is told by everyone's favorite blue-haired genius. Please R&R, either at
ffnet, or Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Confessions of a Mad Scientist By Eileen Blazer January 2002
They told me that talking about it would help. They said a confession would lead to a catharsis and it would cleanse my soul. I would breathe easier, the weight of the whole world would be magically lifted from my tired, aching shoulders, and I would smile more.
I didn't believe them.
So, that in mind, they threatened me. They held my handheld between their slimy, greasy little fingers and dangled it mercilessly over a pool of water, tauntingly offering it back and pulling it away before I could rescue the defenseless machine. They carried a glass of cherry-banana fruit punch to my computer, pretending to be woozy and nearly spilling it onto the perfectly kept keys. They danced around the chemistry lab, waving their arms like seals in a circus.
Talk, they said, or else the calculator gets it.
And what choice had I? With a heavy heart and a deep, deep sigh, I surrendered. I opened my mouth and spilled my guts, about the whole plan, set-up, the chemicals, everything.
Yes, I squealed like an infuriated squirrel trapped under a tree branch while a pack of dogs rapidly approached.
This is what I said.
*********************
Tuesday nights are usually pretty average. This one was no different. The previous hours had passed uneventfully; I had completed the usual tasks. You know, wake up, go to school, call Dad in Australia, read a few textbooks, fight a blood-thirsty, ketchup-bottle monster. Nothing strange in the least.
But at six o' clock that night, the world as I knew it would change forever.
Mom, ever on duty, had just received an emergency page from the hospital in the middle of dinner and ran off, trailing a napkin on her boot and calling "Don't wait up!" I listened as her car roared, her radio switched on, and the garage door opened to allow her free passage, before standing up and tossing my own dinner down the garbage disposal. Placing the plate in the sink, I sighed and leaned against the counter top.
Another plate of baked potatoes down the drain. Literally. Even more depressing was the thought of another lonely night. Sure, I could always watch Jeopardy, take a bubble bath, learn a foreign language, or pinpoint the Negaverse's new secret portal. But just once, I wished I could have something interesting to do at home.
Have you ever read those stories, where the girl casually wishes for something and then it comes true, only to spin horribly out of control until she learns the truth behind the saying 'be careful what you wish for, it just might come true'? Well, they're bunk. I wished for apple rain and the equipment to analyze it, but that didn't happen. I wished for Albert Einstein to be transported to my kitchen, yet I remained the solitary occupant of the large room. Nothing would happen at all!
Finally, totally disgusted with the whole idea, I glanced up to the sky. "Is it so hard?" I asked, "all I wanted was for something unusual to happen. Something not so mundane as a visit from one of Beryl's goons, nor quite so earth-shattering as, well, Earth shattering. Was that too much to ask!?"
Thunder boomed across the black night, rattling my home. I nodded, sinking back from my tiptoes to natural height. "Right. Sorry."
That's when something tapped at the kitchen window.
In retrospect, I didn't actually think anything would be there. Maybe a bird's beak had brushed against the glass while it searched for food. A tree branch perhaps, had been blown against it.
What I saw, as I looked at the window, was a paper bag face, with two holes from behind which a pair of sky blue orbs peered. It's mouth was a hastily drawn zigzagging line. I stood there for a moment, taken aback, until I caught sight of gold thread, flying with the wind and the small, pink nail polish on the Thing's fingertips.
Understanding and worry prompted me to open the window, and the creature fell inside, barely missing the stack of china dishes.
"Serena? What happened?"
She didn't speak for a moment, just lay there quivering. But eventually her eyes found me again. "You can't laugh." She insisted, though I found nothing amusing about her current state.
"What's with the paper bag? And the window entry?"
Serena sat up, stretching out her legs before her, her shoulders slumped. "Promise."
"Come on, Sere."
She seemed to pause, somewhat anxiously -though frankly, it was difficult to read her emotions when I was staring at six year old artwork on the side of a Nob Hill grocery bag. "You'll be sorry if you burst out in uncontrollable giggles. You'll never be able to mop up all of my tears," she warned me. I shrugged; she pulled the bag away.
"Oh...my."
I tried, I honesty tried, to keep the laughter inside. I pursed my lips and tightened my fists and thought of every sad movie I'd ever seen. But despite myself, a chuckle escaped past my mouth and Serena fumed.
"Now, you're mocking me too!" Unfortunately, as her face reddened in frustration, it highlighted the purple bangs, bright orange lipstick, and the snidely-whiplash mustache curled beneath her nose. One hand reached up to wipe her eyes, and I saw that her skin was of a slightly blue hue. "I couldn't even knock on your front door, 'cause Mrs. Parnel was in her front yard."
"What happened?" I asked, repeating my earlier question. "You look like a Rainbow Bright reject."
"Thanks a lot Ami." She sniffled. "Here I thought I was coming to the one friend I had who wouldn't make fun of me."
I rolled my eyes and sidestepped her, opening a cupboard. "Would you like some cocoa?" Serena nodded -did I even have to ask?- and took a seat at our dinner table. "So now would you like to explain why you're in that...costume..."
"Its not a costume," she pouted. "And its all Darien's fault."
That should have been a sign. I should've known better than to inquire any further when she mentioned Darien's name. The two rarely got along and when they did their truce was short-lived, inevitably shattered by a huge argument about something incredibly silly. I could've given her the chocolate, left the room, and retrieved a warm cloth to help her wash her face. But alas, all the should've-could'ves in the world didn't stop me from sliding her mug across the table and pondering aloud, "What did he do this time?"
"He tricked me."
"How so?"
Serena cradled her drink, looking something like a smurf nursing a beer at the bar. "I was at the Crown, doing homework-"
"Let's hear the truthful version, kay?" I interrupted.
"Jeez, Ami. You could try a little trust." But she sighed anyway, and changed her story. "I was playing Sailor V, happy? And I was this close to setting the new record when the door opened and Darien walked in with this girl."
Darien and a girl? How often did that happen? I was halfway through calculating the answer, when it occurred to me that Serena was still talking. Ooops.
"So I'm thinking, is she *his* girl? Why would anyone want to be with Darien Shields, he's the worst, most awfulest guy in the world. He's like the dirt that sticks to the gum on the bottom of your shoe. He's the pond scum that gathers in the far corner because all the other scum is disgusted by it. He's the-"
"I get it, Sere. Please continue." Bless her sweet heart, there was nothing she liked to do more than rant on and on and on about Darien. If I didn't know that I was lacking in knowledge with regards to the love department and that my so-called 'Crush Radar', as described by Lita, was dustier than the Sahara Desert...well, I'd have said that she liked him. Or as they say, *like* liked him. But Silly Ami, I thought, let's not drift away on a cloud of fantasy. Serena hates Darien.
"I *hate* him Aimes! He started introducing her to Andy as his 'study partner' and then she like smiled at me and said 'oh are you Dare's friend too? And he jumps in and says 'yeah, Meatball Head and I go way way back. And then, she asks me if I like kids, and Darien says well yeah, how could she not like one of her own kind."
"Um, this is going somewhere right? Its not gonna end up with Darien going to far, you're getting indignant, and marching away, is it? And then you'll tell me you tripped and fell into a pile of finger paints at home? 'Cause if that's where this is going, we can save time and go straight to the falling into paint."
She bit her lip, smearing the orange lipstick a bit, and frowned. "This is Darien's fault, Ami. He did this to me!"
I got a mental picture of Darien Shields bent over Serena, carefully applying hair mascara onto her front bangs, while his sinister lab assistant, a girl with a lump on her back, applied eye shadow to her face and arms. For some inexplicable reason, the image just didn't fit. "Go on..."
"So she asked me if I'd like to help them out at the carnival, since they had both volunteered to do the face painting booth. It sounded like fun Ami! They'd paint my face as an example and stuff. So I was like, sure, I'd love to help. But then when we got there, Darien's friend left to the bathroom, and Darien was setting everything up, and he gave me this evil smirk, and he asked the kids if they'd like to try painting someone else's face, just to make sure they weren't afraid of the brush. And I didn't know what to do!" Serena stopped momentarily, as if to let me fully absorb the information. Then she continued.
"I closed my eyes while I was in the chair and they were all painting my face and it wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't seen Darien slip the black pencil into its little slot. Look at this moustache, Ami! No child can draw lines that accurately!"
She was right, actually. The sides were remarkably symmetrical. Kudos to that artist for attention to detail, like the 270 degree turn there, and the-
"I was so mad! I told Darien that I knew it was all a trick to do this to me, and he should just wait and see, 'cause I was gonna outsmart him one of these days."
"And?"
"And...and...and he laughed and said that if I want to outsmart someone...I had to be smart first." I stood up and took away the mug; she seemed to have had too much.
"Oh Ami," Serena cried out, clutching the bottom hem of my skirt before I could get away, staring up at me with the big, innocent eyes that would've melted any guy into a useless puddle of hormones. "Won't you help me? You won't let Darien insult me like that, will you? Please, Ami, I promise I'll never ask you for anything again so long as I live. Pleeeease?"
I pondered the situation. Thankfully, I was not male, and as such, was in full control of my cognitive abilities. I could also recall the many times Serena had made promises similar -they always ended a day before a big test, when she would show up on my door with a text book and a pitiful look on her face.
But still, the thought of matching wits with Darien Shields...it had possibilities. He was easily one of the smarter men I knew. And had I ever backed away from a challenge before?
Also, it was time to uncover the hidden truths in Serena and Darien's relationship. Maybe this was my chance to gain knowledge in a different field of study.
I patted Serena's head comfortingly. "All right. Fine. I'll help you."
****************
A great scientist once said 'he that makes a plan before considering the subjects has already failed.' Okay, so technically, it was my science teacher who said that, but you get the drift. I decided that before I could start actually mapping a plan out to trick Darien/uncover-the-truth, I needed to be a little more familiar with the whole situation.
Now I'd had more than my share of front row tickets to the Serena and Darien Insult Hour, and wasn't particularly interested in more of the same. I wanted new information. To be sort of a Jane Goodall of the teen age world.
Yet, somehow, it didn't seem prudent to stalk my friends with binoculars, pencil and pad, and speak into a tape recorder about their odd behaviors. Nor did I want to be like the Crocodile Hunter, blunt enough to have my hand chopped off.
I found a middle ground, and named it State of Invisibility. I would wander into the Crown a while before either of them came, and take up residence on some little stool. Enter the subjects. They would see me, I would welcome them, but pay such attention to my books as would make them tire of me, and move on to -hopefully- each other. Thus, I would reach the sought after state of being ignored, forgotten, etc.
It was then I pondered if, perhaps, I really did need to get a life as Rei so often suggested. But that was a trivial thought, and was soon lost in the crashing waves of my plan.
Things to notice: Darien's likes, dislikes, etc. Did he take his coffee black? Was there anything in his wardrobe besides that awful green jacket? How often did his gaze follow Serena?
Also, did Serena actually do anything other than inhale milkshakes, play Sailor V, and fuss about Darien?
I wandered into the Crown, that Wednesday afternoon, after slipping out of school early. Amazing, how it easy it was to con my way out of Ms. Klinger's physics class. Who would have thought all it took to walk away scotch free was to recite Newton's theories and briefly explain the important discoveries they led to?
Andrew looked at me kind of funny as I slipped through the little glass doors. He surveyed the rest of the 'early crowd', a group of girls with way too much make-up and not enough skirt was stationed in the corner, flirting with every man that walked by the window, a glassy-eyed boy, toying with some stuffed animal, and a few of the coffee-addicted college students that always hung around on Half Price Mocha Wednesdays.
"Where's everyone else?" He asked, looking over my shoulder as I tossed my bag onto the counter. "School over already?"
"Nope." I said, not offering any explanation. I needed to fade away, not get caught up in a conversation.
Andrew shrugged after a minute, and pulled out a brown mug, offering me a small smile. "Have a mocha, Ami. Its on the house."
After a while, the bell rung on the doors again, and Subject One came up to the counter and slammed his briefcase down. His hair was wild, rather like Gene Wilder's in Young Frankenstein. But shorter, of course, and more black. The knees of his otherwise spotless black pants were grayish, and bits of rubble clung to the fabric. He looked as though he'd recently fallen.
Or been tripped.
"Coffee, plain and black." He growled, as his blonde-haired friend smirked nearby. "And don't even ask. I have had enough of those blue-skirted, mush- brained teens for one day. If I never see them again, I will be a happy man."
That's about when he noticed me.
Right away his features softened, and he sighed deeply. "Sorry. I didn't mean you." He looked down at his briefcase, "but you know how some people can be."
Ah, Frustration in his eyes. Goooood. Even as he tried to focus on the drink in his hand, it was obvious his thoughts were elsewhere. On someone small and blonde, no doubt. I marked that down on my paper, in code, naturally, and resumed my observation.
Subject Two entered, wild and giggling, practically skipping up to Andrew. "Got change for a five, Andy? I need a few good games to clear my head after all that thinking I had to do in school."
Darien snorted loudly. All eyes fell to him. "Oh come on," he muttered. "Like anyone here thinks she actually used her head in school."
"Hey!" Serena glared. "I do too!" Note to self: teach Subject Two better comebacks.
"Hitting the soccer ball into the net with your forehead doesn't count, Meatball Head."
"SER-EEE-NAAA. Not Meatball Head, O Unoriginal One."
Like a kid brother knowing he just hit a vein, Darien smirked. "Are you sure you're one to judge? They say that every time you say something clever, a pig gets it wings."
My dear, happy-go-lucky friend blinked too many times before fully understanding that one. "Yeah, well....well...you're stupid!" She frowned, sensing the childishness in her retort.
Unfortunately, Darien picked up on that also. "Don't feel too bad, Meatball Head. Children your age usually just throw pacifiers at each other, right?"
I sighed, clinking my journal shut. Researcher or not, I did have a friend to think of. A job to do. I placed a hand on her shoulder, to calm her before she could respond. Then I looked at looked at Darien. "He's not worth the effort."
The man shrugged and sipped his coffee, staring at the newspaper before him as though he'd been reading it all along. "Or the time it'd take take you to think of something witty. Run along and play now"
A really good scientist would not let her own indignant feelings interfere with her study. She wouldn't talk, even when someone was tearing down her best friend a bit too fast.
Nope.
She'd record things in the blue notebook that's been shoved beneath her arm. She'd remember that she'd been in this same position a million trillion times, would be in it an infinite number more. She'd bitten her tongue and let them work out their problems like normal bitter enemies.
The really good scientist would not have stepped in the middle of things, gestured around and said, "I don't any babies around here. Just a lily- livered, action-taking, whoreson glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel-"
"AMY!!!!!"
Of course those darn friends of mine would choose that time, when Serena's eyes were like frisbees, Darien had just nearly choked on his own shock, and Andrew was grinning like he knew it all along, that one, never again, time when I opened my mouth before really thinking of the consequences, to walk into the Crown unnoticed.
Darn it!! I closed my mouth, feeling the blush creep from my toes to the roots of my blue hair. Serena patted my shoulder, whispering a 'thank you', before surrendering me to the vicious masses.
Namely, Lita, Mina, and Rei. The tall brunette practically shook me by the shoulders. "Jeez, girl. What was *that* all about?" She took the opportunity of me having sunken my head to spy on Darien. "Don't tell me you've started on that too."
"Ami," Rei chided. "I expect this kind of thing from Serena, but you? Now he'd really going to hate us and think we're all a bunch of babbling babies!"
Ever the peace-maker, Andrew interrupted them, offering each newcomer a mocha. Were they even serving anything else? "Come on girls, Ami was reciting Shakespeare. I hardly think the words of a literary genius counts as babble."
His words were lost on the chocolate-fiends.
People sort of fell silent, too intent were they on drinking their little treat. Even Serena was lost to me. I crept back to my seat, and started shoving my notebook into my backpack.
A foot away, Darien gave me a smile. "Et tu?"
I shrugged. "Things are changing."
That was true, too. Old ways were giving way. Serena and Darien *were* preoccupied with each other. Two plans were forming in my mind. One would, hopefully, seriously stun the handsome man beside me. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs if he was going to be deserving of my best friend. The other, well, that plan was, if things worked out right, going to have a much longer lasting effect.
I grudgingly admitted, I was changing too. I didn't want to be invisible. I was caring more. Plain old, sit back and watch things happen science didn't work for me, not when that pair was involved. I had not learned nearly enough. Plus, I was becoming emotionally attached to my little project. A new approach was in order.
Hands on, that was the way to go.
****************
And, yay! I finally finished the first chapter in a SM fic! I am so happy. I've missed writing sailor moon, it just always feels the funnest. And this story is one I wanted to write for a long time, since my other favorite SM, after Darien and Serena, is Ami. So, can you please review? I'll love you forever and ever and ever. I think I shall post a sign somewhere: Want reviews, will write.
As always, I am open to comments and well thought out flames, etc. Thought I must warn you, if you leave a witty insult, I may 'accidentally' use it in my story. (
Stay tuned for the next chapter, same Moon time, same Moon place One last time: Questions? Comments? Coconuts? I'm at Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Confessions of a Mad Scientist By Eileen Blazer January 2002
They told me that talking about it would help. They said a confession would lead to a catharsis and it would cleanse my soul. I would breathe easier, the weight of the whole world would be magically lifted from my tired, aching shoulders, and I would smile more.
I didn't believe them.
So, that in mind, they threatened me. They held my handheld between their slimy, greasy little fingers and dangled it mercilessly over a pool of water, tauntingly offering it back and pulling it away before I could rescue the defenseless machine. They carried a glass of cherry-banana fruit punch to my computer, pretending to be woozy and nearly spilling it onto the perfectly kept keys. They danced around the chemistry lab, waving their arms like seals in a circus.
Talk, they said, or else the calculator gets it.
And what choice had I? With a heavy heart and a deep, deep sigh, I surrendered. I opened my mouth and spilled my guts, about the whole plan, set-up, the chemicals, everything.
Yes, I squealed like an infuriated squirrel trapped under a tree branch while a pack of dogs rapidly approached.
This is what I said.
*********************
Tuesday nights are usually pretty average. This one was no different. The previous hours had passed uneventfully; I had completed the usual tasks. You know, wake up, go to school, call Dad in Australia, read a few textbooks, fight a blood-thirsty, ketchup-bottle monster. Nothing strange in the least.
But at six o' clock that night, the world as I knew it would change forever.
Mom, ever on duty, had just received an emergency page from the hospital in the middle of dinner and ran off, trailing a napkin on her boot and calling "Don't wait up!" I listened as her car roared, her radio switched on, and the garage door opened to allow her free passage, before standing up and tossing my own dinner down the garbage disposal. Placing the plate in the sink, I sighed and leaned against the counter top.
Another plate of baked potatoes down the drain. Literally. Even more depressing was the thought of another lonely night. Sure, I could always watch Jeopardy, take a bubble bath, learn a foreign language, or pinpoint the Negaverse's new secret portal. But just once, I wished I could have something interesting to do at home.
Have you ever read those stories, where the girl casually wishes for something and then it comes true, only to spin horribly out of control until she learns the truth behind the saying 'be careful what you wish for, it just might come true'? Well, they're bunk. I wished for apple rain and the equipment to analyze it, but that didn't happen. I wished for Albert Einstein to be transported to my kitchen, yet I remained the solitary occupant of the large room. Nothing would happen at all!
Finally, totally disgusted with the whole idea, I glanced up to the sky. "Is it so hard?" I asked, "all I wanted was for something unusual to happen. Something not so mundane as a visit from one of Beryl's goons, nor quite so earth-shattering as, well, Earth shattering. Was that too much to ask!?"
Thunder boomed across the black night, rattling my home. I nodded, sinking back from my tiptoes to natural height. "Right. Sorry."
That's when something tapped at the kitchen window.
In retrospect, I didn't actually think anything would be there. Maybe a bird's beak had brushed against the glass while it searched for food. A tree branch perhaps, had been blown against it.
What I saw, as I looked at the window, was a paper bag face, with two holes from behind which a pair of sky blue orbs peered. It's mouth was a hastily drawn zigzagging line. I stood there for a moment, taken aback, until I caught sight of gold thread, flying with the wind and the small, pink nail polish on the Thing's fingertips.
Understanding and worry prompted me to open the window, and the creature fell inside, barely missing the stack of china dishes.
"Serena? What happened?"
She didn't speak for a moment, just lay there quivering. But eventually her eyes found me again. "You can't laugh." She insisted, though I found nothing amusing about her current state.
"What's with the paper bag? And the window entry?"
Serena sat up, stretching out her legs before her, her shoulders slumped. "Promise."
"Come on, Sere."
She seemed to pause, somewhat anxiously -though frankly, it was difficult to read her emotions when I was staring at six year old artwork on the side of a Nob Hill grocery bag. "You'll be sorry if you burst out in uncontrollable giggles. You'll never be able to mop up all of my tears," she warned me. I shrugged; she pulled the bag away.
"Oh...my."
I tried, I honesty tried, to keep the laughter inside. I pursed my lips and tightened my fists and thought of every sad movie I'd ever seen. But despite myself, a chuckle escaped past my mouth and Serena fumed.
"Now, you're mocking me too!" Unfortunately, as her face reddened in frustration, it highlighted the purple bangs, bright orange lipstick, and the snidely-whiplash mustache curled beneath her nose. One hand reached up to wipe her eyes, and I saw that her skin was of a slightly blue hue. "I couldn't even knock on your front door, 'cause Mrs. Parnel was in her front yard."
"What happened?" I asked, repeating my earlier question. "You look like a Rainbow Bright reject."
"Thanks a lot Ami." She sniffled. "Here I thought I was coming to the one friend I had who wouldn't make fun of me."
I rolled my eyes and sidestepped her, opening a cupboard. "Would you like some cocoa?" Serena nodded -did I even have to ask?- and took a seat at our dinner table. "So now would you like to explain why you're in that...costume..."
"Its not a costume," she pouted. "And its all Darien's fault."
That should have been a sign. I should've known better than to inquire any further when she mentioned Darien's name. The two rarely got along and when they did their truce was short-lived, inevitably shattered by a huge argument about something incredibly silly. I could've given her the chocolate, left the room, and retrieved a warm cloth to help her wash her face. But alas, all the should've-could'ves in the world didn't stop me from sliding her mug across the table and pondering aloud, "What did he do this time?"
"He tricked me."
"How so?"
Serena cradled her drink, looking something like a smurf nursing a beer at the bar. "I was at the Crown, doing homework-"
"Let's hear the truthful version, kay?" I interrupted.
"Jeez, Ami. You could try a little trust." But she sighed anyway, and changed her story. "I was playing Sailor V, happy? And I was this close to setting the new record when the door opened and Darien walked in with this girl."
Darien and a girl? How often did that happen? I was halfway through calculating the answer, when it occurred to me that Serena was still talking. Ooops.
"So I'm thinking, is she *his* girl? Why would anyone want to be with Darien Shields, he's the worst, most awfulest guy in the world. He's like the dirt that sticks to the gum on the bottom of your shoe. He's the pond scum that gathers in the far corner because all the other scum is disgusted by it. He's the-"
"I get it, Sere. Please continue." Bless her sweet heart, there was nothing she liked to do more than rant on and on and on about Darien. If I didn't know that I was lacking in knowledge with regards to the love department and that my so-called 'Crush Radar', as described by Lita, was dustier than the Sahara Desert...well, I'd have said that she liked him. Or as they say, *like* liked him. But Silly Ami, I thought, let's not drift away on a cloud of fantasy. Serena hates Darien.
"I *hate* him Aimes! He started introducing her to Andy as his 'study partner' and then she like smiled at me and said 'oh are you Dare's friend too? And he jumps in and says 'yeah, Meatball Head and I go way way back. And then, she asks me if I like kids, and Darien says well yeah, how could she not like one of her own kind."
"Um, this is going somewhere right? Its not gonna end up with Darien going to far, you're getting indignant, and marching away, is it? And then you'll tell me you tripped and fell into a pile of finger paints at home? 'Cause if that's where this is going, we can save time and go straight to the falling into paint."
She bit her lip, smearing the orange lipstick a bit, and frowned. "This is Darien's fault, Ami. He did this to me!"
I got a mental picture of Darien Shields bent over Serena, carefully applying hair mascara onto her front bangs, while his sinister lab assistant, a girl with a lump on her back, applied eye shadow to her face and arms. For some inexplicable reason, the image just didn't fit. "Go on..."
"So she asked me if I'd like to help them out at the carnival, since they had both volunteered to do the face painting booth. It sounded like fun Ami! They'd paint my face as an example and stuff. So I was like, sure, I'd love to help. But then when we got there, Darien's friend left to the bathroom, and Darien was setting everything up, and he gave me this evil smirk, and he asked the kids if they'd like to try painting someone else's face, just to make sure they weren't afraid of the brush. And I didn't know what to do!" Serena stopped momentarily, as if to let me fully absorb the information. Then she continued.
"I closed my eyes while I was in the chair and they were all painting my face and it wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't seen Darien slip the black pencil into its little slot. Look at this moustache, Ami! No child can draw lines that accurately!"
She was right, actually. The sides were remarkably symmetrical. Kudos to that artist for attention to detail, like the 270 degree turn there, and the-
"I was so mad! I told Darien that I knew it was all a trick to do this to me, and he should just wait and see, 'cause I was gonna outsmart him one of these days."
"And?"
"And...and...and he laughed and said that if I want to outsmart someone...I had to be smart first." I stood up and took away the mug; she seemed to have had too much.
"Oh Ami," Serena cried out, clutching the bottom hem of my skirt before I could get away, staring up at me with the big, innocent eyes that would've melted any guy into a useless puddle of hormones. "Won't you help me? You won't let Darien insult me like that, will you? Please, Ami, I promise I'll never ask you for anything again so long as I live. Pleeeease?"
I pondered the situation. Thankfully, I was not male, and as such, was in full control of my cognitive abilities. I could also recall the many times Serena had made promises similar -they always ended a day before a big test, when she would show up on my door with a text book and a pitiful look on her face.
But still, the thought of matching wits with Darien Shields...it had possibilities. He was easily one of the smarter men I knew. And had I ever backed away from a challenge before?
Also, it was time to uncover the hidden truths in Serena and Darien's relationship. Maybe this was my chance to gain knowledge in a different field of study.
I patted Serena's head comfortingly. "All right. Fine. I'll help you."
****************
A great scientist once said 'he that makes a plan before considering the subjects has already failed.' Okay, so technically, it was my science teacher who said that, but you get the drift. I decided that before I could start actually mapping a plan out to trick Darien/uncover-the-truth, I needed to be a little more familiar with the whole situation.
Now I'd had more than my share of front row tickets to the Serena and Darien Insult Hour, and wasn't particularly interested in more of the same. I wanted new information. To be sort of a Jane Goodall of the teen age world.
Yet, somehow, it didn't seem prudent to stalk my friends with binoculars, pencil and pad, and speak into a tape recorder about their odd behaviors. Nor did I want to be like the Crocodile Hunter, blunt enough to have my hand chopped off.
I found a middle ground, and named it State of Invisibility. I would wander into the Crown a while before either of them came, and take up residence on some little stool. Enter the subjects. They would see me, I would welcome them, but pay such attention to my books as would make them tire of me, and move on to -hopefully- each other. Thus, I would reach the sought after state of being ignored, forgotten, etc.
It was then I pondered if, perhaps, I really did need to get a life as Rei so often suggested. But that was a trivial thought, and was soon lost in the crashing waves of my plan.
Things to notice: Darien's likes, dislikes, etc. Did he take his coffee black? Was there anything in his wardrobe besides that awful green jacket? How often did his gaze follow Serena?
Also, did Serena actually do anything other than inhale milkshakes, play Sailor V, and fuss about Darien?
I wandered into the Crown, that Wednesday afternoon, after slipping out of school early. Amazing, how it easy it was to con my way out of Ms. Klinger's physics class. Who would have thought all it took to walk away scotch free was to recite Newton's theories and briefly explain the important discoveries they led to?
Andrew looked at me kind of funny as I slipped through the little glass doors. He surveyed the rest of the 'early crowd', a group of girls with way too much make-up and not enough skirt was stationed in the corner, flirting with every man that walked by the window, a glassy-eyed boy, toying with some stuffed animal, and a few of the coffee-addicted college students that always hung around on Half Price Mocha Wednesdays.
"Where's everyone else?" He asked, looking over my shoulder as I tossed my bag onto the counter. "School over already?"
"Nope." I said, not offering any explanation. I needed to fade away, not get caught up in a conversation.
Andrew shrugged after a minute, and pulled out a brown mug, offering me a small smile. "Have a mocha, Ami. Its on the house."
After a while, the bell rung on the doors again, and Subject One came up to the counter and slammed his briefcase down. His hair was wild, rather like Gene Wilder's in Young Frankenstein. But shorter, of course, and more black. The knees of his otherwise spotless black pants were grayish, and bits of rubble clung to the fabric. He looked as though he'd recently fallen.
Or been tripped.
"Coffee, plain and black." He growled, as his blonde-haired friend smirked nearby. "And don't even ask. I have had enough of those blue-skirted, mush- brained teens for one day. If I never see them again, I will be a happy man."
That's about when he noticed me.
Right away his features softened, and he sighed deeply. "Sorry. I didn't mean you." He looked down at his briefcase, "but you know how some people can be."
Ah, Frustration in his eyes. Goooood. Even as he tried to focus on the drink in his hand, it was obvious his thoughts were elsewhere. On someone small and blonde, no doubt. I marked that down on my paper, in code, naturally, and resumed my observation.
Subject Two entered, wild and giggling, practically skipping up to Andrew. "Got change for a five, Andy? I need a few good games to clear my head after all that thinking I had to do in school."
Darien snorted loudly. All eyes fell to him. "Oh come on," he muttered. "Like anyone here thinks she actually used her head in school."
"Hey!" Serena glared. "I do too!" Note to self: teach Subject Two better comebacks.
"Hitting the soccer ball into the net with your forehead doesn't count, Meatball Head."
"SER-EEE-NAAA. Not Meatball Head, O Unoriginal One."
Like a kid brother knowing he just hit a vein, Darien smirked. "Are you sure you're one to judge? They say that every time you say something clever, a pig gets it wings."
My dear, happy-go-lucky friend blinked too many times before fully understanding that one. "Yeah, well....well...you're stupid!" She frowned, sensing the childishness in her retort.
Unfortunately, Darien picked up on that also. "Don't feel too bad, Meatball Head. Children your age usually just throw pacifiers at each other, right?"
I sighed, clinking my journal shut. Researcher or not, I did have a friend to think of. A job to do. I placed a hand on her shoulder, to calm her before she could respond. Then I looked at looked at Darien. "He's not worth the effort."
The man shrugged and sipped his coffee, staring at the newspaper before him as though he'd been reading it all along. "Or the time it'd take take you to think of something witty. Run along and play now"
A really good scientist would not let her own indignant feelings interfere with her study. She wouldn't talk, even when someone was tearing down her best friend a bit too fast.
Nope.
She'd record things in the blue notebook that's been shoved beneath her arm. She'd remember that she'd been in this same position a million trillion times, would be in it an infinite number more. She'd bitten her tongue and let them work out their problems like normal bitter enemies.
The really good scientist would not have stepped in the middle of things, gestured around and said, "I don't any babies around here. Just a lily- livered, action-taking, whoreson glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel-"
"AMY!!!!!"
Of course those darn friends of mine would choose that time, when Serena's eyes were like frisbees, Darien had just nearly choked on his own shock, and Andrew was grinning like he knew it all along, that one, never again, time when I opened my mouth before really thinking of the consequences, to walk into the Crown unnoticed.
Darn it!! I closed my mouth, feeling the blush creep from my toes to the roots of my blue hair. Serena patted my shoulder, whispering a 'thank you', before surrendering me to the vicious masses.
Namely, Lita, Mina, and Rei. The tall brunette practically shook me by the shoulders. "Jeez, girl. What was *that* all about?" She took the opportunity of me having sunken my head to spy on Darien. "Don't tell me you've started on that too."
"Ami," Rei chided. "I expect this kind of thing from Serena, but you? Now he'd really going to hate us and think we're all a bunch of babbling babies!"
Ever the peace-maker, Andrew interrupted them, offering each newcomer a mocha. Were they even serving anything else? "Come on girls, Ami was reciting Shakespeare. I hardly think the words of a literary genius counts as babble."
His words were lost on the chocolate-fiends.
People sort of fell silent, too intent were they on drinking their little treat. Even Serena was lost to me. I crept back to my seat, and started shoving my notebook into my backpack.
A foot away, Darien gave me a smile. "Et tu?"
I shrugged. "Things are changing."
That was true, too. Old ways were giving way. Serena and Darien *were* preoccupied with each other. Two plans were forming in my mind. One would, hopefully, seriously stun the handsome man beside me. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs if he was going to be deserving of my best friend. The other, well, that plan was, if things worked out right, going to have a much longer lasting effect.
I grudgingly admitted, I was changing too. I didn't want to be invisible. I was caring more. Plain old, sit back and watch things happen science didn't work for me, not when that pair was involved. I had not learned nearly enough. Plus, I was becoming emotionally attached to my little project. A new approach was in order.
Hands on, that was the way to go.
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And, yay! I finally finished the first chapter in a SM fic! I am so happy. I've missed writing sailor moon, it just always feels the funnest. And this story is one I wanted to write for a long time, since my other favorite SM, after Darien and Serena, is Ami. So, can you please review? I'll love you forever and ever and ever. I think I shall post a sign somewhere: Want reviews, will write.
As always, I am open to comments and well thought out flames, etc. Thought I must warn you, if you leave a witty insult, I may 'accidentally' use it in my story. (
Stay tuned for the next chapter, same Moon time, same Moon place One last time: Questions? Comments? Coconuts? I'm at Eileenblzr@yahoo.com