A/N: Sorry, guys, I mean to have this out sooner. Under threat of no Internet from my parents, I have been forced to slave away under the boiling sun, for the past two days, re-landscaping the front yard. So who knows how romantic this chapter's going to be –
Surprisingly, writing romance when there's dirt caked under your fingernails and sweat gluing your shirt to your back is extremely difficult. But maybe you didn't need to know all that.
Note: I use the name "Bunny" in this fic instead of "Serena." Bunny is what they call Serena in the manga. I know a lot of people don't like that, but I just have a soft spot for the name, so I'm using it in this fic. Arigatou!
Disclaimer: According to Mercury-san's computer, the chances of me ever owning Sailor Moon are three trillion, four hundred sixty-two billion to one….which means there's still a chance! YES!
His Grin:
Chapter Three
"You nearly fainted out there." Tuxedo Mask's voice was light as he held her loosely – carefully – and bounded from treetop to rooftop in a single leap.
Sailor Moon forced a smile, though her jaw remained locked lest she let out a scream of pain from her leg. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"How would you know?' she challenged, her hands gripping the lapel of his coat tightly as they crossed a particularly long gap between buildings.
"Hmm, let's see." He glanced down at her, then his eyes returned to that unwavering point in front of them – their destination, she supposed. Wherever he was taking her – wait a second.
The gravity of her situation suddenly slammed into Sailor Moon. She had just been spirited off into the night by Tuxedo Mask. Tuxedo Mask! Um, okay, how jealous was Mars going to be! And Luna – she'd be furious! But I'm not even going to worry, she told herself resolutely, cause then I'll get all worried and I'll miss listening to Tuxedo Mask's wonderful voice… She hastily tuned back in.
"Maybe the way you're shaking like Jell-O, or your tiara being about as bright as a two-watt lightbulb. Or maybe the fact that you're bleeding again."
"What!" Sailor Moon twisted in his grip to look for the said reopened cut – and sure enough, there it was, seeping blood all down her leg and staining his nice tuxedo. "Oh my gosh! It's getting all over your sleeve – I'm so sorry!"
"Don't sweat it." He grinned down at her, chin brushing her bangs. A shiver tremored through her at his proximity – then he looked away again to that point in the distance. "It'll be good as new the next time I transform."
"So you do transform," Sailor Moon tilted her head. "Luna was wondering about that."
"Luna?" A frown curved his lips. "That wouldn't happen to be a cat by any chance, would it?" She stiffened, but luckily, he went on with a laugh. "No, of course it isn't – that would be too much of a coincidence – never mind. I was just being weird."
"Yeah," agreed Sailor Moon hurriedly, scrambling around for a different subject. "Um…Where's your hat?"
"Why? Do you miss it?" he teased.
"No!" Sailor Moon blushed, looking down. Again, she felt her hair brush his face. "I mean – well, maybe, but that's not – oh, forget it," she sighed, feeling unbearably humiliated. She hadn't been so embarrassed since the time she fell in Darien the jerkwad's lap after she tripped over a crack in the Arcade tile. It was almost enough to make her forget about her agonizing leg. Almost. "Where are you taking me?" Cause I really just wanna go home and pop some aspirin…
"Somewhere," he replied evasively, arms tightening around her.
"Oh," said a sleepy Sailor Moon intelligently, her head falling back into the crook between his neck and shoulder. She yawned, eyes drifting shut. It had been a long night, and sleep was the next best thing after painkillers. "Well, when we get somewhere, will you wake me up?"
There was a smile in his voice. "Whatever you say, Sleeping Beauty."
Why…am I trusting…a guy…whose identity I don't even know? Bunny's common sense – what little she had, anyway – nagged her as she floated off into Dreamland. Is it weird for me…to feel so safe here with him…?
"Hey. Sleepy Head."
"Ten more minutes," Sailor Moon mumbled, her head twisting away from the voice.
"Not that I wouldn't enjoy it, but I really want to take a look at your leg."
"WHAT!" Sailor Moon bolted up, cheeks stained a brilliant crimson. She dimly realized that they were standing in the balcony of some high-rise apartment building, and that the night wind was whipping her hair into his face. She flushed harder and grabbed at the streamers of hair in vain, pressing them against her ears, trying to save herself from yet more humiliation. Did he just say what I think he said!
"I said, I want to take a look at your leg," repeated Tuxedo Mask, somewhat mischievously. His eyes danced behind the mask, making her blush even harder, because she knew that he knew what she had been thinking. Please, just let me melt into the floor! And my leg still hurts! What does the world have against me? "You know, so I can see how bad that wound of yours has gotten."
"Oh – of course!" laughed Sailor Moon, rubbing the back of her neck. "Um – yeah – where are we?"
"My apartment." He slid open the glass door and gestured her inside. She stepped into the dark room tentatively. Luna would kill me. My dad would kill me. Rei would kill me. I am in the apartment of a guy I don't know, in the middle of the night… her stomach churned, and then she remembered – but I'm Sailor Moon. I can handle Tuxedo Mask if he ever did anything like that – not that he would, cause he's a totally hot, totally trustworthy gentleman who also happens to be really hot – and I mean, come on, he's really hot and dashing, but all he does is throw roses around, which is nothing compared to my tiara –
"Earth to Sailor Moon." (A/N: Ah, the irony.)
The amused voice jolted her out of her mental babbling, and she jumped with a little gasp, flushing again as she met his gaze. "Um – sorry. I kinda spaced out."
"I noticed," he returned dryly. He stepped past her, forging into the darkness with a confidence born of familiarity, and switched on a light. A lamp flooded the room they were in – a living room, judging by the arrangement of couches and coffee tables – with a soft yellow light like melted butter. It was slightly sunken; a step led up into a small kitchen with a breakfast bar.
"Um – you don't have to answer this if you don't want to," Sailor Moon began, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, "but, um, why did you bring me to your apartment? I mean, aren't you worried that I could find out who you are? Not that I'd try to pry or anything, since I of all people know about keeping secret identities secret, cause that's what they're for, and maybe you have a cat who would get really mad at you if someone found out who you were, too, but – " Bunny, you idiot, you're babbling! Shut up before he thinks you're a TOTAL meatball brain – although it's probably too late for that, considering how ditzy you've been acting in front of him all night – oops, babbling again…
"Calm down, Sailor Moon." Sailor Moon's eyes snapped up to see him watching her with twinkling eyes once more. "It's okay, I'm not going to bite you. Here, have a seat."
Slowly, as though about to sit on hot coals, Sailor Moon lowered herself onto the edge of an armchair – the article of furniture that was closest to her quivering knees.
He quirked a grin at her. "Breathe, Sailor Moon. Inhale, exhale – that's right, in and out – "
"I think I know how to breathe, thanks," retorted Sailor Moon, settling a bit further back into the chair. This was conversation she felt more comfortable with – banter back and forth, like the sort she shared with the jerkwad every day. "And you didn't answer my question."
"You're starting to sound like Mars," Tuxedo Mask commented, moving behind the breakfast bar and rummaging in a cupboard. "Should I be afraid?"
"Yes. In fact, you should run away as fast and as far as you can," Sailor Moon advised with a small giggle. She felt the anxiety seeping slowly from her bones, and tilted her head, watching him. She had to grin at the ridiculous sight he made: a debonair hunk in a tuxedo and cape, digging around in a kitchen like a busy housewife. "What are you looking for?"
"Doctor stuff. Have you bandaged that wound at all?"
"I did, last night, but…I took it off before school. I didn't want anyone to notice the bandage and ask questions." She shifted in her seat, covering the oozing cut with a gloved hand and trying to position herself so that none of the dark red liquid would seep onto his armchair. "Because, you know, I can't answer them, and then someone ends up with their feelings hurt because I won't tell them."
"I wouldn't know," said Tuxedo Mask, finally closing the cupboard and returning to the living room to set his finds on the coffee table. "I'm lucky that way. It's a lot easier to be a superhero when you lead a solitary lifestyle. Less people know you, therefore, less people to ask questions."
"Yeah…lucky…" Sailor Moon hugged her knees to her chest, watching him as he walked back to the kitchen to wet a washcloth under the faucet. He's so strong. Way stronger than me. Even though it hurts to see the looks on my friends' faces when I refuse to answer their questions, I think I'd probably go insane if I didn't have them there to be worried about me… "Speaking of questions, you still haven't answered mine."
She had intended her slightly whiny tone to annoy him into answering her question, but instead, his lips just curved into another grin. And even though he kept silent, she couldn't help but be pleased with herself for making him smile again. He had such a young, boyish smile – it made him seem so much more accessible to her, someone she could actually talk to and tease, instead of that distant idol of perfection who threw roses and never stayed for conversations.
"Is it really that important to you that I answer?"
Sailor Moon sheepishly rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. "I guess not – I mean, I was just curious…"
He returned with the washcloth dripping steadily on the carpeted floor. Funny that the washcloth made that rhythmic sound, but that Tuxedo Mask's footsteps made no noise at all as he crossed the room.
He crouched beside her, motioning to her to let him see her leg. She complied with the slightest of blushes, propping it up on the coffee table and watching his face intently. He lifted the washcloth and began to wipe the crusting blood from around the cut. She hissed slightly at the contact with the inflamed skin, but willed herself to be silent as he began to speak.
"I was kind of worried about bringing you here – after all, what would you think of me bringing you to my apartment? I didn't want to scare you or anything – but getting this injury of yours patched up seemed more important – " He was speaking faster with every word, as though forcing himself to finish talking before he lost his nerve; as he spoke, he kept his eyes studiously trained on the job of removing all remnants of blood. "And I'm not really worried about you finding out who I am. You seem like an extremely honest and trustworthy person – after all, you're Sailor Moon, and those qualities are part of the job description, right? – and if I didn't want you to find out who I was, I don't think you'd try. And if you did anyways, it wouldn't be that bad, I wouldn't necessarily mind if you knew my civilian identity – although I think you'd be disappointed by it." He stopped, then added hastily, "And, you know, there's probably about fifty high-rise apartment buildings in Tokyo just like this one, so it's not like it would be that easy for you to track me down."
"Wow." Sailor Moon blinked. Was it just me, or did he sound kind of flustered right there? That's a good thing, right? Does he really trust me like that? He shouldn't. He couldn't. I'm just a klutzy crybaby… "I – I had no idea you had thought so much about it."
"Yeah, well," he muttered. "You'd stress over it, too, if it was you spiriting some strange girl who can throw lethal tiaras to your apartment."
"Yeah, I guess – ouch, ouch, ouch!" She twisted away from him suddenly, hands flying to cover her bloody bruises. She tried to glare at him, but her eyes just watered
with tears instead. "That hurt."
"Sorry," he murmured, honestly contrite, gazing up at her from beneath his dark bangs. "My glove snagged on your skin – here, look, I'll take them off." He tugged off his gloves, which she suddenly noticed were liberally stained with blood.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out.
"What for?" he asked, glancing up at her perplexedly. She once more felt the urge to knock that mask of his aside, and then felt a wash of guilt – after all the things he had just said about trusting her! I'm not worthy of that trust… her stomach sank, and she looked down at her hands, knotted in her lap.
"For staining your gloves. And for everything else. For being such a horrible nuisance, I know you have more important things to be doing – "
"Why do you think so little of yourself?" he interrupted her. He tugged gently on one of her ponytails, forcing her to meet his eyes. "First that bit with not bothering the Scouts because they were too busy for such an unimportant battle even though you could easily have died, and then not even telling them or anyone else that you were injured, and now you're worrying about my gloves? Worry about yourself for once." He let go of her hair and tapped her – tentatively – on the forehead. "And – let other people worry about you, too."
They sat very still for a moment, frozen in that position. Moonlight spilled across Tuxedo Mask's serious features and illuminated his eyes – they're blue, thought Bunny with sudden conviction, staring into those masked irises with a rapt concentration. Blue, like his. Something rose up in her chest, overwhelming and powerful –
Tuxedo Mask cleared his throat abruptly and looked away from her, grabbing the washcloth again. "Almost done," he mumbled, scrubbing at her leg again.
The tidal wave that had threatened to break and crash across Sailor Moon's heart slowly sank back down again, becoming just another part of the turbulent ocean storming within her chest. He's not yours – you could never be together – Luna would kill you – you don't even know who he is – he doesn't even like you that way –
"Ack! Cold!" she gasped, flinching as a chilly substance covered her cut. "What is that?"
"Just some healing cream," answered Tuxedo Mask, recapping the tube. "So it doesn't scar."
"Well, at least it didn't sting," grumbled Sailor Moon. "Does that mean you're done now?"
"Nope," was his simple answer, and Sailor Moon felt simultaneously a rush of relief and of disappointment. Now – just like the night she's received this wound – she was both loath and eager to escape from Tuxedo Mask. "Still gotta put on a bandage. And don't take it off for at least two days – I'll try to wind it tight so that no one can see it, but even if it's visible, don't take it off. The binding should keep you from making any movements that might open the cut again, or open it further – in which case you're going to need stitches." As he spoke, he wound the stretchy white material around her leg.
"You sound like you know what you're doing," noted Sailor Moon. My, what an excellent conversationalist you are, Bunny – not.
He smiled gently. She felt her heart sinking – that was his Tuxedo Mask smile, the I'm more mature than you are and you couldn't possible understand anything about me, but because you're a child, I'll humor you one. "I should hope so. I'm studying to become a physician."
"Oh." She gulped, throat dry. He must have a lot of homework. Darien wanted to be a doctor, too, and he was always poring over stacks of books at the arcade, studying for some test or other. How did Tuxedo Mask find the time for saving her with all the homework? "That's, um, handy." Come on, Bunny, say something interesting – you have to get rid of that smile! You're losing him…
"Yeah."
Conversation trickled off again. Sailor Moon sat in uncomfortable silence, glancing around the room as he wound the bandage around and around – she had never been one to feel at ease when there was no talking. It was as though a spell had broken; the clock had struck twelve, and whatever magic that had constructed a bridge between them had dissolved, so that once again Tuxedo Mask was the aloof enigma who was far too complicated for her to understand and Bunny was the awkward klutz who just happened to possess superpowers.
A/N: Kind of disappointing end to the chapter, I know. But I was losing track of my destination, so I had to cut it off quickly and regroup before I started babbling (like Bunny!). I am determined to keep this fic short and sweet (like Bunny!). I think the next chapter will be the last one.
Please, all you lovely readers of mine, REVIEW! I need reviews to lift me from my mulch-overload-induced depression!
