The Ever-Pleasurable Mallet-less Clubbing Experience
by Iryl
Summary: One-shot. My attempt at a twist on the popular club scenario.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or anything therein.
AN: I haven't read many club stories. I'm just not a "clubber" and thought I'd give a different view of it. Sorry, no drugs, sex, or massive alcohol consumption.
Rei had a headache. The music thrummed through her body like small booming earthquakes and the lights dazzled her eyes, but they weren't the cause of her distress. No, the headache was because of the nudging, insisting, persistent auras that kept jostling her inner eye.
They weren't, in fact, ordinary auras – they burned, pushed, and jostled her senses, making her weave in her chair like a drunkard, these auras pulsing red and violent with –
"Lust," she muttered, then said it louder, speaking directly to her small table of friends. She had to shout to be heard over the music and even then her friends needed to lean in and watch her mouth to understand her. She was glaring and holding a piece of ice to one aching temple. "Mad, pushy, adolescent lust. It's everywhere in here! I can hardly breathe for it!" She groaned and moved the ice to her other temple. "We have to leave, please?" Her pleading dark eyes looked into Usagi's. The blonde had been sipping her soda with a drooping, self-conscious look about her.
Makoto's idea to go to a club had been exciting at first, but, now that the girls were actually sitting in the flashing, smoky building, it wasn't as thrilling as they'd expected. Usagi and Makoto had gotten up and danced with each other a few times, but every time a guy approached their table, Rei would glare at him and Usagi would wince with guilt and finger her engagement ring. The one time a male had approached an eager Makoto, he had been smoking, and one poorly-aimed puff of smoke had sent her into such a coughing fit that Ami had had to take her to the Ladies' Room and splash some water on her face. Now Makoto's makeup was mostly gone. She looked a little water-logged and almost as droopy as Usagi.
"We should," Ami agreed, and Usagi and Makoto both nodded with reluctant acquiescence.
They all stood up to leave, getting jostled by some of the drunker customers and some of the dancers too enthusiastic to look where they were putting their feet, and filed carefully toward the exit. A handsome young man with well-defined arm muscles leaned in to say something to Rei and the other girls had to stop her from shoving her melting piece of ice up his nose. As it was, he escaped with a wet lip and a nervous twitch in his eye.
"What, he had to say something offensive? He just asked me to dance." Rei replied to their questions outside. She twitched her coat closed and winced when they passed the line waiting to be admitted into the club. "I was irritated. If a guy thinks he can come at me with that kind of aura, he's lucky I don't . . ." She trailed off into incomprehensible mutterings of what she'd like to do to all of those oversexed dancers.
"Hey, you can do that to me anytime you want," said a guy in line who had caught part of what she was saying.
Rei screeched, clawed her hands, and practically ran away from him. The others converged on her in time for her to tell them, harried, "I'd take a mallet to his head but he'd probably like it!"
The other girls only looked at each other and shook their heads. Rei.
End