Little Moments: 100 Themes
#31: Weapon
Lillie Bell

Disclaimer: I'm a poor graduate student, I'm a slave to my department, I have no money. If you sue me there's not much to have... All I have that's worth anyhting is a 3 year old computer and a ring (heehee.) I don't own Sailor Moon.

Mamoru had learned early on, before he bent his knee and put the ring on her finger, that Usagi had power over him. Well, Usagi had power over the universe. Without the channeling power of the ginzuishou, however, she still had power over him. In very few things did he disagree with her simply because she would eventually turn him to her side even if it was illogical. It certainly hadn't been his fantasy to run through the streets of Tokyo in a tuxedo. But it could have been worse. She at least didn't have any carnal desire for Speedos and tights; Clark Kent had it rough.

Clearly, from his long-standing relationship with one Tsukino Usagi, now formally know as Chiba Usagi, and once known as Her Grace the Princess Serenity, the man had learned the levels of weaponry the blonde would unleash upon him. And as she was standing there, going through the routine, he counted them off as they came:

The childish glare that he had dared disagree with her.

The coquettish smile that meant the wheels were turning and spelled out: You will acquiesce.

The debonair aura would fade and she would be plastered to every part of his body she could reach. There were days he'd arrogantly let her come to this point in order to take advantage of the situation. He would never admit it to her, though; for fear that it would fall from her repertoire.

The seductress would fall away to the childish nature once again and he would get the pout. Leaving her to pout for a minute, she would then up the anti and her bottom lip would tremble. If he looked to be at the breaking point, she would lean in close to him and start to widen her eyes. This was the precursor to the dreaded puppy-dog look that usually caught him by the mouth—hook, line, and sinker.

Today, however, he was putting his foot down. He had made it to the puppy dog look and was wondering what was awaiting him after a full ten minutes of staring at her big, bubbly eyes looking up at him with so much innocence that he knew better than to believe. Why, just the other night, she had—

In a flash of light, he stared at the princess of a millennium ago. He stared at her dumbfounded, but more than happy to take in the way the dress fit her like a glove. She very rarely went into any form, so he took the opportunities afforded him. She noticed his attention and a dangerous smirk came to across her face. Mamoru held his ground, though he could quickly feel dread overcoming his need to preserve his dignity.

Two days later, Mamoru walked into the arcade with lavender hair. Motoki sneered at him and whistled. Only one word need escape his lips: "Whipped."

I'll admit that while I find most of my stories cute, this is the first one that had me cracking up at the end. I know a few people who always appreciate a lavender-haired Mamoru (:cough: Arashi-chan :cough:) and I had an inkling to include it in at least one of my drabbles. This wasn't at all what I had in mind, but I still think it's funny. Hopefully the next set will be a little more serious again, as these were all silly and that's not really a realm I'm familiar with.