THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE

Chapter 3: "Out of Character"

By Bill K.

Michiru watched her mate stand there, holding the letter informing her that her parents had gotten a temporary restraining order from court barring Haruka from seeing her younger sister Junko. Michiru could sense the anger welling in the taller woman, see her blue eyes harden into steel, and feel the tension overtake the woman's body. She reached out, touching the woman's arm, trying to somehow ease the pain of this blow.

"One more slap in the mouth," Haruka whispered, swirling in a whirlpool of rage and humiliation. "Thanks a lot, Mom and Dad."

"Haruka, we can fight this," Michiru said, trying to calm and reassure her. "We'll get an attorney and challenge the order at the hearing."

"What's the point?"Haruka asked bitterly. "They'll probably get their way. That's the way my life's worked."

"It's not set in stone."

"Doesn't matter. You don't know my folks. Even if they don't get the court order, that won't be the end of it. Hell, her and Dad would move back to Switzerland to keep Junko away from me. They'll find a way."

"We can stop them."

"Michiru," Haruka said flatly, cutting off further protest. "She won't give up. Maybe Dad will - - eventually - - but she's a pit bull. And the longer we fight about it, the worse it's going to be for Junko. She's in the middle of this. It's not fair to her to put her through this kind of thing - - make her choose between family."

"So you're going to choose for her?" Michiru judged, trying to keep her voice calm and even. "Back down out of nobility? And what about what she wants? Trying to protect her from the anguish of a fight between you and her parents is just going to give her anguish because you're cutting her off from her sister. How is that better?"

"She's lived sixteen years without me," Haruka said sullenly. "She can live four more."

"Haruka," Michiru began, looking the woman right in the eye with an icy vehemence, "you race cars for a living - - and you're a senshi besides. You might not be here in four years."

That statement startled Haruka.

"What happened to me three months ago brought that fact home to me," Michiru continued, "and it should have to you, too. Haruka, don't run away from what's important because you think you'll be around to get it later. There may not be a 'later'. Fight for this. It's important. You need that girl in your life - - and I think I'm safe in saying that she needs you, too."

Haruka took a long, drawn out breath. Michiru waited for her, refusing to back down.

"At least contact an attorney," Michiru persisted. "If it looks like it'll be a hopeless fight, you can back away. But if you have a case, pursue it. Fight for it! Do it for your sake AND for Junko's!"

Haruka sighed and Michiru knew she'd won.

"OK," Haruka conceded. "We'll talk to an attorney. Know any good ones?"

"Why would I know any attorneys?" Michiru smirked. "What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

Haruka gathered her in and hugged her. Michiru nestled against her love gratefully.

Mamoru opened the door to the apartment he shared with his wife Usagi. Once more, through the fatigue of the day, he noticed how cramped - - "intimate", he once more heard Usagi say in his mind - - the apartment was. He did so want to move into a bigger apartment. Usagi said she didn't care where they lived just as long as they lived together. But he wanted to give her a better place to live, to do better by her. And the "intimate" surroundings were beginning to wear on him as well.

But he was also weighing the notion of opening his own private practice soon and that would take start-up capital. He didn't want to go into debt again so soon after paying off Usagi's father for the money he'd lent them while they were both in school. And, despite what they were both pulling in financially, a bigger apartment and starting a private practice was too much of a strain on their budget. He'd already had to confiscate the credit card from Usagi once this year.

"Good evening, Mamoru," Luna said to him. The cat emerged from the kitchen. "I hope your day wasn't too stressful."

"No more than usual," he sighed. "Are you making dinner?"

"Heavens, no!" the black cat gasped. "Although I dare say I'd be better at it than Usagi! I'm just looking in on it periodically as it warms in the oven."

Mamoru sniffed the air. "La Cafe Italian?" Luna rolled her eyes and nodded. "Usako, I'm home!"

"ENFF HRRR!" came the muffled reply from Usagi's studio.

Mamoru ventured in and found Usagi at her board. She was inking a page of manga with one brush while she held another in her teeth. She was finishing panel three, but there was still a full figure panel to ink.

"Deadlines again?" he asked.

"Ah cnng keeg ahgh!" she muttered. Mamoru reached down and removed the brush from her mouth. "Oh, thank you, Mamo-chan! I can't keep ahead! Something always interrupts me!"

"Like that anime program you just HAD to watch this morning?" Luna interjected cynically.

"SHUT UP, LUNA!" Usagi barked.

"PROCRASTINATION IS NOT A LEGITIMATE EXCUSE!" the cat fired back.

"Well, finish that panel and then break for dinner," Mamoru advised, then bent in and kissed her. "I'll take it out of the oven and dish it out."

Twenty minutes later, the three were eating at the table.

"I heard there was another murder at the hospital," Usagi ventured.

"Well that's certainly a stimulating subject for dinner conversation," Luna commented. Usagi shot her an acid look.

"Yes, a nurse," Mamoru replied.

"Were you acquainted with her?" Luna inquired.

"I'd worked with her a few times," Mamoru nodded. "She'd just transferred onto the floor a few months ago. She and the second one that was killed were friends."

"Oh, that's horrible," Usagi whimpered.

"You knew all four of the victims, didn't you?" Luna asked. "Now that I think of it."

"I guess I did," Mamoru nodded. "It's not that big of a hospital, though. I imagine a lot of the staff are acquainted. The only one I was really friends with was Dr. Ishida."

"Are they any closer to finding out who did it?" Usagi asked.

"Not that I know of," Mamoru replied. Then he smiled mockingly. "Maybe the Sailor Senshi need to step in."

"Funny you should say that," Usagi admitted. "I got a call from Minako. She said we need to meet."

"Really? Why wasn't I informed?" Luna demanded.

"You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. She didn't come right out and say it, but I think it's about the hospital murders. Minako said she'd talked it over with Artemis and Ami and they all think we need to get involved."

That evening, at the Ikegami household, things were winding down. Sanjuro sat on the sofa watching sports on television. The sound of the game was the only noise in the apartment. The man expelled a fatigued sigh as Hanshin's pitcher set down the Yomiyuri batter on a nasty curve. Today had been a hard day at the docks. In fact, hard days seemed to come more and more frequently. Maybe it was time to start saving up to open that restaurant he had been thinking about. He knew of his wife's dreams and he knew that her skill with a menu would make the place a success. And it had to be easier than loading and hauling crates.

But Makoto was pregnant again and Sanjuro knew that would be another expense. Children were a blessing, but they weren't a free blessing. This was going to affect his ability to save, perhaps postpone it - - again. He expelled another sigh.

"Akiko's down for the night," Makoto said, standing in the doorway from his daughter's bedroom. She smiled cynically. "We'll see how long it lasts." Makoto glanced at the television. "Sports again?"

"Makoto," he shook his head. "Derek Johnson's up."

Makoto scowled and headed for the kitchen. As she passed in front of her husband, he reached out and caught her hand. She turned to him inquiringly and he blew her a kiss. That served to ease her ire some. However, in mid-waddle, she heard the doorbell and moved to answer it.

"Rei," Makoto exclaimed.

"Hi, Makoto. Mind if I come in? I've, um, got something to ask you," the priest said. She was dressed casually. Makoto bid her into the kitchen.

"So what's up?" Makoto asked.

Rei sighed. "I need advice."

"From me? What could I possibly advise you on?"

"Love," Rei whispered timidly.

Makoto smiled. "Well, I guess you can learn what not to do from me. So you've met a guy you're attracted to?"

Rei looked down, reluctant to answer. "Yes," she said finally. "And nobody else finds out about this, OK? ESPECIALLY Usagi! The last thing I need right now is her making wedding plans for me!"

"Promise," Makoto giggled. "So, do I know him?"

Rei shrugged. "Do you follow baseball?"

"He's a baseball player?"

"He's an AMERICAN baseball player."

"You're attracted to someone who isn't Japanese?"

"Can you believe it?" Rei replied with a shrill chuckle. "Little Miss Nippon through and through, who thinks Japanese religion and culture is so superior to everyone else. I never thought I could be attracted to anyone other than a Japanese man."

"Not to mention that torch you carry for," Makoto began. Rei looked at her sharply. "Um, nothing. So what changed your mind?"

"I don't know," Rei said. "But every time I look at him, I picture his massive arms wrapping around me and pressing me to his massive chest . . ."

"Yeah, I've had that reaction a time or twelve," smiled Makoto. "I remember that was what first attracted you to Yuuichiro. Have you talked to the guy?"

"A few times. He seems like a nice guy. And he's pretty smart and centered - - not like that clinging goof, Yuuichiro. Given time, I might," and Rei stopped, terror constricting her throat, "well . . ."

"Rei, falling in love isn't something to be scared of," Makoto told her. "Actually, it's kind of a good thing. You'd be amazed at how much more complete your life feels when you've got someone to lean on, someone to dote on, someone to share your path in life. I don't know where I'd be without San-San and Akiko." She leaned back and patted her distended abdomen. "And the little one, of course."

"But what if it doesn't work out? What if . . .?" and Rei's throat tightened up again.

"Been there, too," Makoto grinned sadly. "I know, breaking up, or even worse getting dumped, is like getting kicked in the teeth. It hurts like Hell, you don't want to eat, and it's hard to smile. But I always thought it hurt worse to be alone. I've been alone, too, just like you are now. I didn't like it. That made it worth the risk to me. Now I know that guy your Dad set you up with didn't work out. Maybe you're a little gun-shy from that. But you've got to get back up on that horse and ride, or else you'll be walking alone forever. Maybe this horse will throw you, too. But you never know until you do it - - and even if you do get thrown, it can still be a fun ride up to that point."

"Yeah," Rei mumbled. She didn't sound convinced to Makoto's ear, but it sounded like she was weakening. "That's assuming he asks me out, of course."

"Why wouldn't he? Isn't he attracted to you?"

"Yeah, he's attracted. I kind of read that," Rei grinned sheepishly. "I think the priest robes are getting in the way."

"Then ask him out."

"I couldn't do that!"

"Why not?" Makoto smirked.

"I don't want to seem," Rei stuttered, "forward!"

"Maybe he likes forward women."

"And maybe he doesn't!"

"And maybe you're using that as an excuse to hide behind," Makoto judged. "Do it! What's the worst he can do, say 'no'? On the other hand, if you cower behind this big excuse you've built up, you may miss out on the love of your life - - um, one of the loves of your life. Sure, you'll be safe from pain, but you could be missing something beautiful."

Rei bit her lip. "I don't know. Makoto, I've never been this scared of anything in my life - - not since Mom died anyway."

"All the more reason to ask him out. You can't beat your fears unless you face them."

"Grandpa said something like that once," Rei murmured. "OK. I'll do it."

Makoto nodded in triumph.

"Hi, Auntie Rei," Akiko's voice squeaked from the kitchen doorway.

"Akiko! What are you doing up?" gasped Makoto.

"I wanted a drink of water," the child responded plaintively.

"You could have asked your dad," Rei said, kneeling to the child as Makoto went for a plastic cup, since Akiko wasn't yet trustworthy with breakables.

"He's watching his TV and he can't hear anything when he's watching his TV," Akiko replied.

"She's got that right," chuckled Makoto. Rei lifted the girl up to the table and Makoto handed her a cup. "There you go, sweetie." Akiko took the cup and sipped.

"Can you tell me a story, Auntie Rei?" Akiko asked.

"Akiko, don't impose!" fussed Makoto.

"It's OK," smiled Rei. She carried Akiko out of the kitchen. "How about I tell you the story of 'The Princess Who Fell Down A Lot'."

Ami drifted out of the hospital morgue with a slow, wandering gait. It was well past the end of her shift, but she barely noticed. Several nurses in the elevator ride down to the locker room greeted her, but Ami only responded with cursory politeness. The doctor was preoccupied with events that had just happened.

Aki Tamahara had been a seventy-seven year old suffering from rheumatoid arthritis and pulmonary fibrosis. Ami had hoped to treat the fibrosis and get Mr. Tamahara up and walking in order to forestall the long-term care she knew he would eventually need. Her work would be temporary relief at best, but every day she could buy him on his own and able to live his life free of assisted living care would bring them closer to Mr. Tamahara's goal. He told her point blank when she was first assigned to his case that he didn't want to be a burden on his family and didn't want to live "shut up in a nursing home" - - Ami recalled his exact words clearly and the vehemence behind them.

So it became her goal, too. What neither of them knew was a blood clot lurked in one of Mr. Tamahara's arteries. When it broke off that afternoon and traveled his circulatory system until it wedged in one of his smaller capillaries, it caused an embolism. Ami and a squad of nurses and aides had worked to try to save him. Even Dr. Mugashi, who had started interning there six months ago, pitched in to help despite his inexperience. But in the end, it was too much for the elder Tamahara.

The elevator opened onto the parking level and Ami got out. She knew she wasn't supposed to blame herself - - the blood clot had been unknown. The man was an embolism waiting to happen. It could have happened anytime and the result would have been the same. And she knew she was supposed to keep a professional distance from her patients. Her mother had warned her when she first interned that a good doctor cared, but knew not to care too deeply in order to maintain professional objectivity.

But she did care, and perhaps too deeply. It was understandable when Ryo Urawa died. It was understandable when she'd succumbed to the urgency of the situation when Michiru had suffered her lung infection. But she'd only known Mr. Tamahara for two weeks and only for a little while each day. And yet she couldn't help wondering if she could have done more.

"That's a dangerous mind-set," she whispered to herself as she walked absently to her car. "You could end up crippling your judgement if you continue to second guess yourself after every failure." Ami sighed. "Perhaps I'm just not cut out for hospital work."

"Talking to yourself?"

Startled, Ami looked up. A man emerged from the shadows of the garage and approached her. Reflexively Ami's hand went to her side, ready to summon her henshin stick. As he got closer, she recognized him. It was Dr. Mugashi.

"Perhaps it is a bad habit," Ami replied warily. "I'm not always successful at internalizing my thoughts."

Mugashi was an ordinary enough man - - slight of build, with thick black hair and glasses. He seemed a competent intern and got along with the nurses and the other doctors. It was just that there was something about him that unnerved Ami. If she looked at him at just the right angle in just the right light, there was a resemblance to Dr. Tomo, Hotaru's father and the genius behind The Deathbusters.

"Look, if it's about the Tamahara case," Mugashi began, "you did all you could - - at least in my estimation. I admit I don't know as much about the case as you - - and I'm not as smart medically as you."

"Thank you," Ami nodded. "I've been trying to tell myself the same thing. And thank you for your help during his emergency today. You seem very sure of yourself for an intern."

"High praise from 'Wonder Doctor'," he smiled, then grew alarmed. "Um, I'm sorry if that's familiar! It's just - - everybody calls you that!"

"I'm used to it," Ami said. "I'm certain you meant it in a positive manner."

"OK. Well, I guess I'll be heading home." Mugashi turned and took a few steps, then turned back. "And try not to dwell on it. You did all you could."

Ami watched him disappear into the shadows. She waited until she heard a car start. Moments later a Toyota compact with a lot of mileage emerged from the shadows and headed down the ramp. Mugashi was driving. He waved to her as he passed, then disappeared down the ramp.

Only then did Ami relax.

Continued in Chapter 4