Ami brushed the hair from her forehead – the wind kept tossing strands into her eyes – and watched the Moon's silver play off of the palace pond. It was such a calm, cool night, and the sound of the water lapping below the library's balcony soothed her taut nerves. Yet the water could do nothing to ease the discomfort of her mind.

As if summoned up by her distress, strong hands slipped to her shoulders and massaged gently. Ami immediately relaxed and let her head fall back languidly, sighing.
"Zoicite, you're wonderful," she murmured, eyes closed.
She could almost hear him smile. "Well then, princess. Since you're so grateful, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" There was a serious undertone to his soft question – concern under the playfulness.
Ami's eyes opened and she raised her head, moving from under his hands. She stood and walked to the railing.
"I know that I should be happy that Minako is back," Ami said quietly, allowing Zoicite to come up behind her. His hands, as he touched her again, were hesitant, but, finding no rebuke, he continued to rub out the kinks in her shoulders. "I should. She's one of my best friends and we grew up together – trained and fought together. I don't see why I'm not thrilled. . . ."
"I do," Zoicite said so quietly that Ami wondered if he had spoken at all. He continued in a stronger voice. "You four have duties to the Princess – important ones – and though you understand that she had to have some time to herself, you resent that she got to have a normal life for a while – and still now, with the baby. Because, princess, we all know that Senshi cannot have normal lives." He snorted softly. "What do you think I've been brooding about all these weeks, hm?" He turned her around and looked seriously into her eyes. "Ami, you know that if we marry, our duties come first. I hate that – hate not being able to protect my wife as I should – but I accept it. Neither of us have normal lives, darling, and we have responsibilities that come before any relationship. But I'm willing to live like that, if you are."
Ami was extraordinarily conscious of her own breathing. "Zoicite . . . are you saying. . . ."
"I want us to marry."
Ami wasn't sure if she was going to scream or faint . . . so she burst into tears.
"Ami?" Zoicite was distressed.
"Yes," she got out between sobs, wrenching his shirt in her slim fists as she clung to him.
He smiled.