S'il suffisait d'aimer - Part 1
Another legendary co-write between AngelAnne and Mars

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"Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do
And only so many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you an just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you?"

-- "Vienna" - Billy Joel
"While waiting for the chocolate to cool, fold the dry ingredients with the milk and eggs in a separate bowl."

Makoto sighed contently, listening to the thunder rattle her apartment's windows. There had been three dark and stormy days in a row, and while Minako complained about being trapped in her house with her unbearable mother, Makoto loved it. Had the wind not picked up, she would have left the window open and let in the fresh, water-laden air.

"Nothing like a good storm," she mused, adjusting her bright green apron as she reached for the spatula.

The oven binged, signaling that the first batch of cookies was ready to be brought into the real world. Makoto pulled on her oven-mitt (which was, of course, the same shade of green as her apron), and opened the oven door.

The cookies were on fire.

Well, no, not so much as "on fire" as "horribly singed, blackened, and smoking."

Makoto yelped and yanked the cookie sheet from the oven rack…with the hand holding the spatula. The cookie sheet clanged to the floor-barely missing her slipper-clad foot-and burnt cookie husks flew everyplace. Makoto jumped back, and her elbow collided with not only the bowl of cooling chocolate, but also with the bowl containing the dough. Both bowls clattered to the floor. The one containing the chocolate shattered, and chocolate goo began to seep out onto the kitchen tiles like some primordial, B-movie monster. The bowl with the dough didn't shatter-most notably because it landed on Makoto's foot.

Makoto swore, loudly and profusely, and for lack of anything better to do, threw the spatula. The spatula missed the vase of flowers on the windowsill, but unfortunately, did not miss the window. The spatula quite merrily sailed out the window and, judging from the cry of surprise a few moments later, had whammed an innocent bystander on the way down.

Makoto stared at the mess in her kitchen in disbelief while massaging her crushed foot.

On the plus side, that "fresh, water-laden air" was now filling the kitchen with its sweet scent…

"I guess I'll have to go out and buy cookies for Usagi-chan," she mumbled, watching the chocolate harden all over her cabinets. "She's not going to want to eat anything that came out of this mess."

Groaning softly, she got to her feet, faltering slightly as her sore foot supported her weight. She removed her apron, and cast it aside over a nearby chair. If she was more religious, like Rei, or more superstitious, like Minako, she would have called that a bad omen. Ruining the food that was supposed to be eaten at a celebration of Nehelenia's overthrow (her actual overthrow, mind you) and Saving the Earth Once Again - or maybe the food had heard of "dramatic irony." At any rate, she was now cranky-Makochan, and she had a mess to clean up.

As she wet a sponge in the sink, Makoto looked back on the events of the last week. They were supposed to be starting high school with a fresh slate - no more enemies. They were just supposed to be students, doing their homework, going to clubs. But no, someone had to break Nehelenia's seal, someone had to let her kidnap Mamoru-san.

"We should just stop celebrating our victories," she groused and turned back to the Royal Disaster Area of her kitchen, "We jinx it every time."

A cookie-crisp tumbled from the top of the refrigerator and shattered against the floor.

"I know how you feel, cookie-chan," Makoto said as she kneeled down and began to scrub at the gooey chocolate. Apparently, deciding to follow her luck as of late, the chocolate had cooled extremely quickly and was now something of a solid object and wouldn't be removed by anything less than a high-quality chisel. Makoto tossed her damp sponge to the side in disgust and began to gather up cookie remains in her skirt.

"Nice going, Makochan," she murmured, "Create an Usagi-esque mess..." she stood, skirt full of cookie-corpses, and made her way to the trash can, "Granted, Usagi-chan would probably take these to Mamoru-san and he, the poor man, would eat every last one..." Makoto trailed off and stared wistfully into the trashcan's maw, "Usagi-chan's so lucky..." she whispered and let the cookies tumble down into the mighty recesses of the kitchen trash.

Usagi-chan was lucky. She had a boyfriend who loved her, despite how many times he got possessed by people, and she saved him every single time. That's what Makoto wanted - minus the possessing and using of the Ginzuishou, of course. They didn't even have to be kissing and they looked like the most perfect couple ever to grace the streets of Juuban. Usagi-chan was so innocent, so cute. Mamoru-san was so sophisticated, so mature. "Opposites attract," it was once said.

But if you were musing about couples, of course, you had to count Haruka-san and Michiru-san. They were the epitome of the It couple. They were so dedicated to each other and to Usagi-chan. They managed to find the perfect balance between love and duty, and everything else be damned if they weren't sexy while they were doing it.

Where did that leave Makoto? Stuck in her apartment on a stormy afternoon, standing in the aftermath of Hurricane Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say my life sucks," she said, idly poking the garbage can with the foot that had not been crushed. "Which it doesn't, because I've still got great friends--"

Who always get attacked by villains--

"I've got Usagi-chan, the best friend in the world--"

And you always have to bust your ass to protect her, even when you don't want to die--

"I'm in high school now--"

And someday it won't even matter, because you'll be guarding Neo Queen Serenity and your dreams will be left in the dust--

Makoto grunted vindictively, kicking the garbage can over. Okay, so her life did suck, and she couldn't do anything about it.

She could, however, put on her jacket and go to the market for cookies.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Geniuses weren't always as crazy as they seemed.

After almost a year of pouring over stolen research notes and creating new reasearch notes and scrounging through the ruins of Mugen Gakuen and having ephiphany after ephiphany...

It was time.

Yes, yes, it was time to finally prove that Tomoe Souichi had not been the raving infidel that the scientific community had labeled him as. Yes, it was time to prove that Tomoe Souichi had been this close to not only finding the Holy Grail, but taking over the world as well. He had been brillant, really! Combining ordinary household items with an Egg of Daimon...oh, who would have thought! Who would have thought?!

Granted, Tomoe Souichi had one fatal flaw: his daughter.

Shame, shame. But alas, there was no daughter this time! No liabilities! The world would be seized by the darkness before anyone could blink, let alone tromp around in a short skirt and go-go boots.

It was time. Yes, it was time. Only one vital ingriedient was missing: the egg whisk.

Why an egg whisk? Well, why the hell not?

It could be said that Professor Mizuwari Shimi was a lunatic. Certainly, if you saw him on the street, he would not look like your everyday Joe. His hair was blue - the kind of blue you saw on children's toys that were meant for blasting those evil glob aliens out of the sky. His glasses were huge and thick, making his beady black eyes seem inhumanly large. He was thin as a twig, pale as a ghost, and messy as ... really messy things. And he was always grinning. Even while he slept, a lunatic sort of sneer graced his features, making him look a few shrimp short of a tempura platter.

He had been reading up on Tomoe Souichi for quite some time. His exploits were well-known, and not because they were successful or in favor with the community. His research was unorthodox at best, hare-brained at worst. The creatures he produced in his lab were strange, and their goal even moreso: they were after the heart crystals of innocent souls, in pursuit of something called the Holy Grail. He swore that through the Holy Grail, he could revolutionize the world and bring about the ultimate Silence.

After that, coworkers stopped inviting him to occupational functions and fundraisers.

Shimi had just begun to take college classes at the time, and the feats of Tomoe Souichi were being buried among the scientific community. It was almost taboo to discuss any of his work. And Shimi began to wonder why.

It took some stealth, some stamina, and some really incredible luck, but Shimi managed to strike paydirt one day: one of Tomoe Souichi's research journals (which, for some strange reason, had been crammed into a silverware drawer in the university kitchen.) And what paydirt that journal was. The first thirty or so pages were nothing special-notes on how cute/smart/beautiful/wonderful/extraordinary his daughter was, observations on this that and the other thing, blah, blah, blah. But afterwords, oh, afterwords, the little charbroiled journal became interesting. Hastily written theories on the Holy Grail, methods for combining living and inanimate objects, sketches of Talismans…

And the more Shimi read, the more he wanted the Holy Grail. The more he wanted to collect the Talismans. The more he wanted the Silence to reign.

The little blackened journal also contained some notes on Tomoe Souichi's downfall: the Sailor Senshi. Oh, they looked harmless enough in their little pencil-sketch forms, but the sloppily written notes beside the character sketches told another story. Here one girl had the power over fire and could fry him into a crispy critter, another could fling a chain of hearts, and here was this one with the funky hair and something that read, "bunny chop action."

Shimi didn't care about them. Oh, no, he was more interested in this Sailor Uranus, Sailor Neptune, and Sailor Pluto…

The possessors of the Talismans.

And there, the journal ended.

But it didn't matter. Shimi had what he needed. And he had the one thing he'd always wanted - the thing to make him famous. Well, it wasn't famous in a good way, but after being Just Another University Student for so many years, he'd take it where he could get it.

He walked down the street, grey trenchcoat being pummeled furiously by the raindrops. It would not be long now. Tomoe may have been defeated, but Shimi had nothing to lose. He had everything to gain.

"There's a place in the world for the angry young man--*CLANK*"

Haruka chuckled sheepishly at her silly mistake. She had been thinking of the words, not the notes. Her hands had gotten tied up in a knot, and as such had bungled the chord. Billy Joel would have been embarassed.

Or maybe it had not been the lyrics to that old rock song that had made her miss the notes. For a moment, she'd felt something wrong in her chest. Like something was worming around in there, where it didn't belong. Something was changing, and it didn't feel like it was for the better. As soon as the feeling had come, it had left, and Haruka was feeling creeped out and suspicious.

And she had so hoped those feelings were ancient history.

"I take it that the angry young man finally hit puberty."

Haruka sighed and swiveled in her piano stool. Setsuna lay luxuriously across the couch, reading what looked suspiciously like a trashy romance novel. A cup of tea sat cooling on the coffee table, and along with it, a plate of triple fudge brownies.

"Saturday night and you're still hanging around?" she quipped.

Setsuna eyed her over the glossy pink book cover, "Shush."

Haruka snickered and spun back to the piano, "Sister's gone out, she's on a date!" she sang obnoxiously and strummed a few keys, "You just sit at home and--"

"Don't you have to pick up Michiru at her art class?"

Haruka smiled slightly and pulled the protective cover over the piano keys. "Yes, I have to go pick up Michiru," she grumbled playfully. She stood and made her way over to the chair where her jacket was draped (after making sure to snag a brownie.) Setsuna grumbled something unintelligible and quickly turned the page.

"Dowrf mowf shof bur," Haruka said around a mouthful of stolen brownie. She inclined her head towards Setsuna's tea, and at Setsuna's exasperated nod, gulped it down, "Thanks."

Setsuna mrrrrrrr-ed as she picked up her own brownie and began to daintily nibble at it, "Don't get lost between here and there, turn your headlights on, please stay in double-digits speed-wise…"

"Yes, Setsuna-mama," Haruka grinned as she pulled on her coat and started fumbling for her keys.

"And watch out for egg whisks."

Haruka blinked. Not so much from what Setsuna had said, but from the sense of dread that she was suddenly blanketed in. But dread? From an EGG WISK?

"I'll do my best," she promised quietly, and made her way to the front door.

She made it all the way to the car before she started to feel lightheaded. She slipped into the driver's seat of a small black sportscar, sweat beginning to pour down her paling skin. She opened the garage door, and pulled out as the car's cover slid up. She managed to get down the driveway before losing consciousness, car plowing into a tree on the sidewalk and beginning to smoke.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mafo-chun, dis coohies err reat!"

Luna sighed dramatically, letting her head fall with a "thunk!" on the desk. "Usagi, the least you could do is finish chewing first."

Usagi swallowed briefly before devouring another giant chocolate chocolate chip cookie. "These must be the best you've ever made!"

Makoto looked down sheepishly, tugging on the collar of her coat. "Well, actually, I had a little kitchen mishap and had to buy them from Urai's Confections."

"I'm sure yours would have come out even better," Ami said, nudging her friends with her shoulder. "Had your kitchen not decided to mutiny."

"So you caught the cookies on FIRE?" Minako asked, scarfing down cookies with the same fervor and insanity of Usagi, "I've never even done-gack!!!" Minako was cut off by a cookie lodged in her throat, courtesy of Rei smacking her on the back.

"Oh, don't feel bad, Mako-chan!" Usagi said airily and beamed, "I burn cookies all the time and Mamo-chan still eats them!"

"And then he sneaks off to the hospital to have his stomach pumped."

"Oi! You're nasty, Rei-chan!"

"Well, he does! Thank the gods he's insured!"

Makoto watched the two banter for a moment and tried to muster an amused expression, but she couldn't. She was just too depressed. Usagi had Mamoru-san, who braved her kitchen exploits and loved her all the more. Usagi had Rei-chan, who while incredibly sarcastic and sometimes needlessly nasty, would die for her. Multiple times actually.

Makoto shook her head before her thought train could plummet further into the Tunnel of Depressed Souls.

Unfortunately, Ami noticed.

"Are you okay, Mako-chan?" she asked quietly, but was yet still heard over the increasing volume of Usagi and Rei's argument.

This time, Makoto did manage a slight smile, "Just a little down after my kitchen disaster. It's nothing."

The phone trilled from the kitchen, and grateful for the excuse, Makoto scurried off, "I'll get it! None of you need to see the Chocolate Lagoon!"

Makoto picked up the phone carefully, for it too had been covered in hardened chocolate goo. "Kino Makoto residence, Makoto speaking."

"Makoto! It's Setsuna!" The voice on the other line sounded far away - bad reception, perhaps - and they were breathing very rapidly. "Something -- to Haruka! And they don't know what it --!"

"Whoa, whoa," Makoto interjected. "Setsuna-san, relax. Tell me what happened."

"She went to pick up Michiru from her art class, -- crashed when she was leaving the driveway. She's not -- injured, but she hasn't woken up yet, and no one can get a hold of Michiru!"

Makoto sighed, collecting her thoughts. "Do you want me to tell Usagi-chan?"

"NO!" That response came in loud and clear. "Not until we find out what happened! Usagi will just worry--"

"Like you are," Makoto pointed out, but she went on deaf ears.

"The point is, I just wanted you to know. I'll call you back if anything changes."

With that, Setsuna hung up abruptly, leaving Makoto holding her chocolate-covered phone as far away from her ear as she could.

Okay. So she had burnt cookies to beyond an Usagi-crisp, and Haruka had crashed a car. Today was more than a tad peculiar. And again, if Makoto had been superstitious or religious, she probably would have taken Setsuna's call as yet another bad omen.

Instead, she replaced the petrified-by-chocolate receiver back on the cradle, buttoned her coat, and was out the door and on her way to the hospital within five minutes.

Although, in retrospect, she probably should have said something to her friends before she left.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Michiru sighed happily, twirling her umbrella idly as she walked down the street. She knew she was supposed to get a ride from Haruka today, but she had to make an unscheduled (in other words, fully intentional) pit-stop somewhere. She looked down briefly at the little blue bag she cuddled carefully underneath her jacket. Haruka had probably forgotten, but it was the anniversary of their first "date." Of course, that first date had involved being ripped to bits by a daimon and condemning Haruka to a really sucky fate, but if you're not going to celebrate the special memories...

But what was vibrating all of a sudden? Michiru stopped, pulling underneath the overhang of a little café. She patted down all the pockets in her jacket - aha! Her cellphone! She idly wondered how long it had been going off as she adjusted the bag in her arms, tucked her umbrella between her neck and shoulder, and popped the phone open. "Michiru speaking."

"Michiruwhereintheninehellshaveyoubeen?? Don'tyouknowhowtoansweraphone?! Ringanswer! Ringanswer! It'snotthatdifficultaconcept!!"

Michiru pulled the phone away from her ear and blinked at it for a moment. The voice on the other end sounded like Setsuna…on speed. This voice sounded rattled and beyond the threshold of panic. Setsuna didn't panic. The closest Michiru had EVER seen Setsuna to panicking was when Hotaru stumbled across one of the "books" Setsuna had left by the bathtub. But that incident had involved merely a mortified expression and the slamming of many doors.

This couldn't be Setsuna.

Warily, Michiru raised the phone again, "Hello…?" she tried tentatively, "May I ask who's calling?"

There was an exasperate sigh, "Who do you THINK?"

The sarcasm was someone ill-suited for the voice, but yes, it was Setsuna.

"Is something wr—" Michiru started to ask, but she was cut off.

"YES!!! We're at the Juuban District Hospital—"

"'We'?" Michiru repeated, as a cold tendril of fear began to seep down her spine. Oh no, no, no. This could not be what she was dreading it to be. It was peacetime now and significant others were most certainly not permitted to be hurt in any way, shape, or form.

"Haruka crashed leaving the driveway—I heard her hit while I was reading—and she isn't seriously hurt but she's still unconscious and she's in the emergency room now—"

Michiru's teal umbrella clattered to the rain-soaked sidewalk, but she didn't notice for she was too busy sprinting for the hospital. She fired off a hasty, "I'll be right there!" into her phone before snapping it shut and jamming it back into her coat pocket.

She was going to kill Haruka for being hurt on their anniversary.

…once she was done smothering her in kisses and was brave enough to stand an arm's length away so she could properly slap her.

Michiru didn't notice the grey trenchcoat until she plowed right into it. Michiru fell to the ground, the trenchcoat fell to the ground, and the little blue package went sailing through the air.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, hastily scrambling back up to her feet.

"No, no, it's my…" the bystander's voice trailed off, "Oh my god! You're Kaiou Michiru, aren't you?!"

Michiru repressed the urge to groan. Of all the times to run into a fan, it just HAD to be now…hopefully, she could rudely shake him off and get to the hospital.

"Yes, and I'm in quite a hurry—"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of detaining you!" the bystander held out a grubby little notebook and a pen, "If you wouldn't mind…"

Michiru wanted to scream. Instead, she yanked away the notebook and pen, hastily scribbled what she hoped was her name, and shoved it back to its owner.

Fearing there would be more delays if she spoke, she nodded curtly, and continued her sprint back towards the hospital.

The bystander watched her retreating form for a moment, which wasn't easy considering how badly the rain was blotting his glasses.

"Kaiou Michiru…" he whispered and lovingly petted the little research journal she had so kindly autographed, "Has anyone ever told you that you bear a striking resemblance to Sailor Neptune?" he shook his head and continued to walk, "Simply amazing…"

CRUNCH!

Shimi peered beneath the rim of his glasses to see just what he had stepped on:

Michiru's anniversary present.

With a slight smirk, he bent down and retrieved the small, slightly-squashed package and stuffed it into his trenchcoat pocket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Silence was coming.

Well, no it wasn't.

It was trying, but it just wasn't quite there. After all, the Holy Grail ~had~ been destroyed and all.

But right now, Haruka could care less about the Silence. The world could crumble, the world could shatter, the world could be made out of jam, and she wouldn't care. All that was important to her was that a dark and foreboding figure was holding the Deep Aqua Mirror in one hand and Sailor Neptune's limp form by the other.

That, and she had forgotten their anniversary.

Haruka remembered the Silence. She remembered how afraid she had been the first time she'd felt it coming. But then, she'd only had one person in the world to share that fear with. Now she had a Princess. She had fellow Senshi who demonstrated, time and time again, how dedicated they were to said Princess. It was not the same the second time around.

Haruka didn't like how there had to be a second time around. And for all the world, in that strange dreamscape, watching the figure hold Neptune with a lot less care than her Talisman, she felt helpless.

That feeling in her chest...it had been the Space Sword. Something had happened to her Talisman. She tried to call it out into the dreamscape, but to no avail. She fell to her knees, gasping for air. It had never failed to come to her before! Every time she called for it, it appeared in her hand.

Unless...

Could her Talisman be gone?

And was the dark and foreboding figure singing?

"Well, we all fall in love, but we disregard the danger…"

Yes. It was. It was even sticking with the running Billy Joel theme of the day. But right now, Haruka was hard pressed to care. If she couldn't use her Talisman, she'd have to improvise. All that mattered was that this tacky figure was holding her Michiru and none too gently at that. Granted, Haruka would've been crankier otherwise…

"Put her down."

The dark and foreboding figure ceased its off-key "Stranger" rendition, and cocked its head to the side. If its eyebrows were visible, one of them would probably have been cocked.

"Or what, exactly?" it asked snidely, "Do you think you can defeat me without the Space Sword?"

As if on cue, the Deep Aqua Mirror stretched and morphed until it became the Space Sword. Haruka refused to be startled. She'd be confused over her Talisman's behavior after she saved Michiru and spent at least three days cuddling her.

"I don't need it," she said lowly, "Now, put her down."

"No."

Haruka's hands balled into fists by her side. She was certain she didn't need the Space Sword…even if it wouldn't come to her when she called it. She was going to enjoy ripping this cretin apart limb from shadow-cloaked limb.

"But I'll make you a deal."

"Deal?" Haruka narrowed her eyes. She'd listen…but only until she could spring forward, kill this bastard, and catch Neptune before she hit the floor.

"Yes," the dark and foreboding figure said with a nod, "Your Talisman," he inclined his head at the Space Sword, "For her life," and with nary a pause, the dark and foreboding stranger quickly and neatly snapped Neptune's neck.

Haruka screamed. She screamed so loud that she awoke Michiru, who had been asleep in a hard plastic hospital chair for the last four hours, and Makoto, who was going on five hours.

"Haruka!" Michiru bolted from the chair, toppling it over. She was mostly dry now, except for her hair, and she still looked like a rather soppy stray cat. "Are you okay?!"

When Michiru bent over the bed, she got a terrible shock. "Fuck! Mako, her eyes are fully dialated!"

If there was ever a time for Michiru to break character and say "fuck," that would be one of them, Makoto reasoned. The teal-haired woman grasped Haruka's shoulders with the full extent of her grip, shaking her lightly.

"Come on, Haruka! Snap out of it!" she shouted over her lover's inconsolable scream. It sounded like she was saying something...was Haruka screaming her name?

"Snap out of it, Haruka!" Michiru repeated, pale pink nails digging through the flimsy hospital gown. "I'm right here!"

From the hallway, Makoto heard the rushing footsteps of what was probably a panicking nurse. Half of the hospital ward was probably up in arms over the ruckus coming from their suite. Hell, the hospital foundation was probably shaking.

And she was right, for at that very moment, a flustered nurse burst into the room, closely followed by an extremely frazzled Setsuna. The nurse rushed to Haruka's bedside, tapping at a syringe, and roughly elbowed Michiru aside. Makoto put a restraining hand on Michiru's shoulder to keep her from elbowing the nurse back. The nurse jammed the needle into Haruka's arm and as the drugs entered her system, Haruka began to calm down.

The nurse straightened herself up, and with a, "call me if you need anything", she briskly walked out the door.

Michiru fired a Look, and quietly returned to Haruka's bedside, "Haruka?" she whispered.

Haruka's expression was fuzzy at best. The drugs were obviously wrecking havoc with her already wrecked mind. Michiru was beginning to doubt that Haruka had even heard her, and she didn't trust her voice not to break if she tried again.

"…Michiru…Michiru…" Haruka murmured something else unintelligle as she started to drift back into unconsciousness.

"What?" Michiru asked, leaning down closer.

"…Michiru…" Haruka's voice took on a slight, but harsh lilt, "The Stranger…kicked me right between the eyes…"

---

So. We've started another cowrite. And the world TREMBLES IN FEAR. (Or we hope they do.) This is, as we Evil Authoresses like to call it, justice. Specifically, this is Makoto justice, because Lord knows she needs it. It is also Outers angst, because we really really like angst.

Here's to another successful cowrite!

~AngelAnne and Mars

DISCLAIMER: "Vienna," "Piano Man," "Captain Jack," and "The Stranger" are all property of Billy Joel, Sony Records, and ... people. "S'il suffisait d'aimer" is property of Céline Dion and her record label who seems to escape me right now. Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon, all concepts and characters thereof, are property of Takeuchi Naoko, Bandai, Toei and others. By the use of these copyrighted songs and ideas, we are gaining no profit. And apologies to Billy-sama, if he ever reads this.