Bliss

Disclaimer: this is an adaptation and is based loosely on Goong; I do not own the plot or the manhwa. I also do not own the sailor moon characters or any real locations, quotes, real fashion brands, real food or buildings that might appear in this story.

This fan fiction is set in an A.U. and will not hold many similarities with the standard sailor moon anime/ manga. Personalities will remain similar but I reserve the right to be creative with my story, there are no monsters and no sailor senshi (soldiers). Also, Serena's height will be different. Please be open while you read and enjoy the story. Also keep in mind that even though the year and time may be current, the happenings in the story are different from our reality.

Chapter Six: Lipsticks and Misery

– July 6th 2009 –

"Pass me the scones, dear." Jessica Diamond asked, fanning herself. She sat on a plush, satin settee and dusted at invisible particles down her flowing Chanel Dress with her hand. Giving not a care to patience she tapped a Vuitton clad foot on lush carpet loudly and pursed pouty peach lips in impatience. "Today please, dear!"

Her son, Link Diamond, did as he was asked before returning to lounge disinterestedly again across from his mother. He watched as she measured a portion for herself – the smallest possible, as always – probably with the month's newest diet guaranteed to make her stick-thin figure even trimmer in mind, before setting aside the platter and primly stirring the block of sugar into the cup. "She hasn't woken in two days," he voiced thoughtfully. They weren't speaking of business matters or plans to advance their position for once and now seemed an appropriate time as ever to broach to topic of the newest Column bride; the one with a flair for dramatics, apparently. The word circulating at current was that she had fainted not a minute proceeding her marriage to his cousin. Just what their family line needed, more useless hysterics. Internally he grimaced.

His mother paused in action, setting the spoon soundlessly down on a dainty porcelain saucer. She brought the cup to her lips, sipping long. "No she hasn't," Jessica said finally. "I'm not surprised though, they have her locked away in that house from the reporters waiting for answers, she's guarded well and no one can quite get in. It will be a while longer before we hear from her."

"Their marriage was very sudden," Link thrummed long, lean fingers in steady rhythm on his thigh. "They reacted quickly," he remarked thoughtfully.

"And quite wisely," Jessica agreed, her fine brows bending. "I underestimated his smurf of a secretary and her ability to scheme, almost as well as me!" As she spoke her mouth twisted with something like amusement, but dark and sharp. "The call to the board regarding the Will's inaction was meant to unsettle them. Aiden had thought to deny us our position, to take it all away from us, and I simply reminded him of the old man's promise, his promise for you. I should have planned for something like this though - it changes everything."

Link shifted uncomfortably, stifling a groan. "I don't care about Column Industries, mother." He told her offhandedly. "They can have the company."

Immediately the congenial air between them froze and Link could feel his mother grow angry in that composed way of hers, the way that remained proper but bordered menacing. "Nonsense!" she cried. His mother's face twisted into a sour expression and she forgot the cup of tea, standing in a flourish. "You will care," Jessica stated, her voice rising.

He had been foolish to hope she would listen and Link let the matter drop, feigning indifference and looking away. His mother however, was not finished. "Your father cared, and I care." She told him. "You will too, son. Column Industries is your own and we will regain it, prepare yourself to accept the position and bride rightfully yours. We will not speak of this again!" And with that she swept from the room, leaving without looking back or taking her tea. Heaving a sigh, Link stood to his full lengthy height and stalked gingerly over to where she had sat, lifted the saucer and set it atop the mouth of the cup.

He knew that just as the tea would never be touched, the matter was dismissed.

At Column Estate...

His mouth opened and his lips formed a question. "Will you love me as my wife," he asked. Nodding towards the officiate he made it clear the man as well as the people behind them was waiting for an answer.

Serena stared long into his eyes, finding her voice. "I will love you." She said finally. I will.

"Then I pronounce you man and wife!" the man declared. "If you wish, you may kiss your bride..."

The kiss brought her jerking up; the memory of his lips caressing her mouth took her from that recollection and straight into a sitting position on a massive Queen bed. The elegant bedspread and covers sat in waves around her, feeling like one luxurious bath and leaving the impression that it was on royalty's bed that she had slept.

But this wasn't her house and she wasn't home, so this fabulous bed could not be hers. Groggy, she pushed hair from her face. It was loose, the way she usually slept with it, but tangled from not being brushed properly the night before. Why hadn't she brushed her hair? Serena began to wonder how such a substantial routine could have passed her mind, but just as she put thought to it, she recalled with a grimace why she was here. And where here was. Yesterday she had been married, that meant this was Column property and she was very likely in her husband's bed.

Her husband's bed...then this indeed was her house...

Serena nearly bolted at the thought. That baka, that Darien, was her husband. Knowing that alone was reason enough to run, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Serena still felt droopy and exhausted, like she needed to curl back into a ball on this despicable bed and sleep for just a while longer. She could better show indignation at her unruly hair when she had rested, but for now she was tired.

Dreams tittered on the fringes of her mind, calling her to fall back into the space that was bliss. But just as she was giving in something pulled her back. A figure slanted by her door, to be exact.

"You worried me," a concerned voice said and Serena looked to see it was him, Darien.

Quickly she pulled at the covers, drawing them to her chest and in doing so realized that she wasn't in her wedding dress but a simpler and smoother gown. "You have some explaining to do," she told him her voice wavering as all sleepiness fell. "What the hell did you do, and what happened to my clothes?"

He smirked at that, moving to her from where he leant at the doorpost. He drew nearer and Serena grasped the blanket tighter. "Stop right there," she said when he was at the foot of the bed. Darien relented, taking a seat at the end of the mattress. "Explain," she commanded. "Explain all of this right now, you pig."

"Good morning to you too!" His voice was sarcastic and he shrugged, raking fingers through thick locks of well-groomed hair. How he woke looking so well put together was beyond her. "What is there to explain?" he asked. "That was one hell of a night; I don't have the words to begin. You really aren't what you seem...I mean, wow!"

Serena felt her knees shake as a cold sweat crept over her. There was no reading through those masked blue eyes of his, and she could not know if he was speaking truth or lies. "No," she muttered, her voice uneasy. "I wasn't awake, and there isn't a thing I remember from the chapel, but I know I would have if something serious happened. You're lying to me."

He smiled knowingly. "Are you sure?" Darien leaned in, his eyes scrutinizing her becoming all too personal, daring her to confirm the unstable claim. "You were in my bed where I could take you, do whatever I wanted and you believe I let you be? Ridiculous notion Meatball Head."

"Serena!" she corrected, glaring daggers at him. "The name is Serena and you didn't touch me, I'm sure of it. You're a jerk and I think there're bums better than you, but Darien you wouldn't take advantage of me."

"Oh?" He asked, leaning back against the bed post. Darien didn't argue against her assertion but simply assessed her, it took only a moment for Serena to realize why: she'd let the cover fall. You perverted jerk! She thought heatedly pulling it back around her. Her nightgown wasn't promiscuous or indecent, but it framed her curves, falling pleasantly against her dips and shape accentuatingly.

"What happened, Darien?" Serena asked again, helplessness at not knowing the details entered her tone, making the request soft. "Please tell me."

A look of bemusement crossed his features and for a moment Serena swore she saw pity brush on them before he snapped up, growing serious and still. "We are husband and wife now," he said formally. "You remember that much?"

She nodded. "Yes, I married you."

He drank her in after that declaration, his Adam's apple bobbing with emotion. "Right," he answered finally, hurriedly adding, "Your family's debt has been repaid. I saw to it a day ago and they will be by the end of the month to visit."

Relief flowed through her at the mention of her family's debt absolution, but soon despair took over as she wondered why they were not there now. "Why did they go back?" Serena asked aloud. "Couldn't they have stayed longer?"

He ignored her question asking instead, "Do you also remember the way in which you lost consciousness?"

Serena shook her head, that part was a blur. "No," she answered. "I remember us being asked to kiss and then nothing after that." She wouldn't tell him just how that kiss had felt and the sense of rightness that still snuggled at her heart when she thought of it. No, this was his version of an interrogation and there was no way Serena would admit to liking the lips he was using to fling disinterested queries her way.

Darien sighed. "That is because you fainted. The moment I kissed you, you lost it and we had to call for the doctor." His face became hard, serious. "Why haven't you been sleeping? I'm sure you have an excellent excuse."

Feeling like a chided child Serena lifted her chin, a sudden swell of indignation taking control. "I didn't see need to." She responded, instead of admitting that she simply hadn't been able to fall asleep. What did he care?

"You worried me," Darien gritted. And the resentful facade faltered at the very true concern in his gaze. "Because of you, I haven't slept! The entire house has been in frenzy since; we were all concerned it was something serious, something more." He shook his head, staring at her in a determined fashion. "Don't ever do that again," her husband warned. "From now on you must be more responsible, you must consider more, Serena. Don't float around acting childishly, you scared me near death."

It was her turn to be taken aback and Serena saw no choice but to concede. After all he'd just laid a pretty big one on her; first that the whole house – people she hadn't even met yet – were very much concerned for her, and secondly, that he had been too. "I'm sorry," she whispered, stunned at the emotions grabbing at her; first remorse and then giddy joy. "I didn't mean to stress anyone; the commotion I caused shouldn't have ever happened, it's entirely my fault."

"'Your fault,' is right," Darien said and stood. "But that is very far in the past now. How are you feeling?" he asked letting the conversation go.

Serena took him in, his long-sleeved sweatshirt stretched across taught and firm muscles, while casual morning jeans encase his tall legs...Her mouth went dry as heat burned her cheeks. "Better." She managed, looking away from him. Maybe if her face didn't directly mirror a tomato he would have an easier time believing her. "Thank you," she murmured.

He nodded simply and they stayed that way for a minute, his eyes dark on her and her own wide and searching for anything else to look to. What was happening to her heart? Serena wondered frantically, surprised at the feelings of appreciation welling up for this man and for his care as well as so much more. Was she admiring Darien Column?

Impossible.

She would have taken notice of anyone had they been the first person to greet her that morning, he wasn't anything special. And she admonished the infuriating pulse that still quickened when she risked so much as a glance his way.

Finally he eased away. "Hungry?" Darien asked turning his back to her.

"Oh, yes!" She responded, blinking herself out of the daze and thoroughly shaking her head to clear those bothersome imaginings. Okay Crazy Body, it's time to behave. You're embarrassing yourself! She decided, no more of losing herself in him, it had happened twice already which was ridiculous. This was Darien the bother, and unless she was losing what precious marbles she had left, it was past the time to get herself together. "I'm starving," she told him exaggeratedly, "Where's the food?"

Wordlessly Darien moved to the door and opened it wide before a portly man with a fat cook's hat pushed his way into their bedroom, carrying several platters on a wide cart. He wheeled the silver trolley over to her, bowing slightly and yet formally.

"Mrs. Column," he greeted elaborately. "It is my pleasure to see you awake again after that episode at the church." His grey moustache twitched with suppressed mischief and the chef grinned. "It is because they do not feed you the delicacies that I prepare here that you strayed from the food, yes?"

Serena could hear his thick Romanian accent ask the question but couldn't respond, she was still reeling at being called 'Mrs. Column', and not just by anyone, but by an evidently knowledgeable Chef. This had always being a dream – certainly not the 'Mrs. Column' bit – but meeting a professional Cook had always been an aspiration. Serena respected food and there was no one she revered more than those who crafted the delicacies which made her mouth water. She felt an instant kinship towards the man.

"This is Prince, our Head Chef and master in all things Romanian culinary," Darien helped. "He's cooked lunch just for you; I thought you'd be hungry."

"Thank you," Serena said refusing to dwell on his warming consideration. "It is very nice to meet you, Prince."

"Madame I am honoured and besotted," the man replied, grinning even wider. Ducking he returned with a covered dish, holding it out to her. "You must try this; it's my famous snapper sautéed in fresh butter and garlic. I marinated it with honey and dripped peppercorn for flavour, you must taste it!"

He didn't have to tell her twice. Her mouth was watering, and Serena had already pulled away at the covering, gasping when she saw that everything on the platter was just as good as he'd described.

"I prepared spaghetti and chicken soup, baked fresh buns and threw together a pot pie as well, but for a little treat there is chocolate mousse." He winked, evidently pleased with himself. "Did I do well?"

"I love him," Serena declared, beaming first at Darien and then Prince. "You are my hero, Prince. Feed me forever!"

"The Master has fabulous choice," Prince commented happily. "He brought home a beautiful bride who I can feed all day; it is too surreal to be true! Is there a dietary regiment that I should know to follow?"

Serena scoffed, using the fork to throw a hefting piece of fish into her mouth. When every piece of the delicious morsel had been chewed and swallowed she raised her brow in steady contention. "Diets do not exist for me, only your food does my friend."

Returning the gesture the man grinned disbelievingly as Darien. "She is perfect!" he exclaimed. "I will give you back your iPad for this!"

Darien's smile fell. "You took my iPad?" he inched closer to the other man, jabbing a finger at his poufy white hat and causing it to fall as Prince ducked to the corner clutching the top of his head woefully. "There was a proposal last week that needed that thing and you took it?"

"Of course," Prince shrugged. "I gave you incentive, yes? Now look how you succeeded, is all thanks to me!"

"Wrong!" Darien retorted, rolling his neck and cracking it loud and menacingly. Next came his knuckles, and with those done he took firm hold of his chef's throat. Grabbing him, Darien started for the door, a bawling and hysterical Prince following; they were almost through the doorway when he stopped and cast a glance her direction, letting the Chef get ahead.

Still watching him, Serena hadn't expected that he would look at her. The piece of snapper lodged in her throat.

"I asked Prince to prepare something more western today to see what you preferred. If you ever want Romanian, go ahead and seek him out, this house is every bit yours too."

She nodded slowly, catching his drift, "I will. Thank you."

Looking like he wanted to say more Darien settled for a brief smile, already turning again from her. "Take care of yourself, my wife." He said lastly and then he was gone.

Gazing down at her plate Serena digested what had just transpired. She was home now, her new home and what she had set out to accomplish had been fulfilled. Her family would be alright.

And he had called her his "wife". Telling herself it was only the solidity of her family's future that warmed the depths of her spirit, Serena bit into the flank of the fish, experiencing the sweetest warmth when she consumed the meaty portion. It joined that of another fleshing heat surging from a higher portion in her chest. Atop that kingly bed she ate her full, "My wife," she repeated again, and her heart sang.

– Braythorne High –

Breaking news from the KETTLE CORN:

THE NEWS OF DARIEN COLUMN'S WHIRLWIND ROMANCE AND MYSTERIOUS MARRIAGE BROKE HEARTS TWO DAYS AGO AND CONTINUES TO DEVASTATE! SEATLLE'S MOST ELIGABLE BACHELOR HAS FOUND A WIFE IN SERENITY JACK, BRAYTHORNE NATIVE AND DAUGHTER OF DWAYNE AND TRACY JACK, GRANDAUGHTER OF LOCAL VEGETABLE FARMER, CHRIS JACK.

SERENITY MARRIED DARIEN COLUMN IN A BRISK, ALTHOUGH "STUNNING" AFFAIR, IF WHAT WE HEAR IS TO BE BELIEVED. LITTLE IS KNOWN OF THEIR SUDDEN ROMANCE, ONLY THAT THEIR GRANDFATHER'S WERE ONCE CLOSE FRIENDS ABOARD A TRADE SHIP. THEIRS IS THE ROMANCE OF DREAMS, IT SEEMS, AND the KETTLE CORN WILL DILLIGENTLY KEEP YOU INFORMED. PAGE SEVEN AND EIGHT CAPTURE WHAT THE COUPLE WORE, FINALLY THE SECRET BEHIND SERENITY'S DRESS! WAS IT REALLY HER GRANDMOTHER'S? OUR STYLE-WATCHERS WILL LET YOU KNOW!

"I. Hate. Her." Tasha declared, flinging the newspaper across the new lunch hall, gaining a host of wide-eyed stares her direction. Darcie Utilie hurried to retrieve it.

"Look," she squeaked turning a worrying shade of green as she opened it to the section covering Serena and Darien's scandalous wedding. Really all of the Kettle Corn - as well as every other newspaper and magazine in the county – had something to do with the two; from a more direct approach such as an article detailing what size shoe and bust she was to an add offering the very latest in hair growth designed to give girls hair "just like Serenity." "I heard she was sick, there's an article."

"I'm so sick of articles!" Trisha declared. Meaner, "I'm so sick of Serenity!"

"Well who isn't?" Hanna Lawrence added, "I get it worse than both of you, my uncle worships Darien and never takes that stupid tie off ever since he complemented him on it. I get gossip on the two of them first-hand, they're all I hear about!"

"Well, boo!" Trisha scoffed, not interested in attending any pity party but her own. "How did this happen," she cried. "Mr precious prince, married to that witch! I'm going to die."

Darcie rushed to fan Trisha's face with a napkin she clutched from the newly ordered luncheon tables, waving it in the other girl's direction at least twice before she realized the napkin was used and that she'd sent a creamy wallop of mayonnaise catapulting into her friend's coppery roots.

Trisha screamed. "My hair!" she wailed, jolting up. It was all ruined! Her perfect waves were dripping with nasty cream. She could feel those vicious calories rub off on her. "What am I gonna do? Darce, you ruined my hair!"

Hanna glared as well and looking like she might cry too, Darcie scrambled for a solution. "Try the washrooms, there's shampoo there now, it should get it out." She offered, looking relieved.

"Oh it better," Trisha warned, scrambling to her feet and clutching her purse to her side as she made for the door. Hanna started to follow but she stopped her, needing to be alone for a while. She felt like bawling right there. The newly painted doors couldn't come into view soon enough, and it seemed as if all of the school was one huge renovation project, which it was. Things were being replaced and repaired everywhere she turned, new walls and roofs practically dominated the once ratty school; it was all being redone, the brand new cafeteria just finished on a rush order a day ago, and even a few lockers were being exchanged for shinier versions.

They all reminded her of her prince. Her stomach knotted when she imagined the trouble he must be in because of that loser he'd married. It should have been her with Darien Column. Living the high life had always been her dream, and a jab of pain over having lost out on that opportunity caused her to push harder than necessary at the tap. She dunked her head into the basin and let the cool greet first her lips and then face, before finally her hair. Things were definitely at an all time low now that she couldn't care less about having to reapply her make-up after. Her life sucked, and the mayonnaise had probably ruined most of it anyway.

Oh, yay me!

Trisha stayed that way for at least six minutes more; whoever looked at her cross-eyed because of the water running could go find a tree and then stuff it right where the sun didn't shine if they cared so much. She wasn't bothered. But then the door creaked – a tell-tell sign that someone else had entered the bathroom – and light feet treaded deeper in. Lifting her face slightly she expected to find Darcie, come to apologize, but caught the person look at her with a mixture of surprise and alarm, and at first she wasn't entirely sure she knew who it was. They'd all pretty much been in the same school since kindergarten because the families here liked to stay familiar and the closest other high school was one hundred miles away. This one short difficulty in identifying the person before her came as a surprise. And then it faded, and she knew exactly who the slender girl with waist-length hair as dark as raven wings was.

"Take a picture, Owl Eyes, it'll last longer." At first it was like her words hadn't penetrated, but then the girl, Raye Helm, shook her head slightly and made for the stall. The creepy ballerina most referred to as Wednesday Adams kept her head low, shutting the door behind her as if to ward off attention, but Trisha was far from finished. With the places she could see clean and most of the mayonnaise gone, she reached out and yanked a clump of paper towels from the dispenser, working to keep her tone light as she said, "I'm sorry about earlier. I just wasn't expecting to see you, and thought for sure that the Thing had grown a set of jaws and taken you out, Wednesday. I'm glad to know Uncle Fester is alive. And Lurch. This is a nice surprise."

No reply.

Shrugging nonchalantly the fairer girl ran the cloth through her shoulder-length locks, staring past the mirror at Raye. "Did you read the papers?" Trisha questioned. "They got married two days ago. Did you go?" She didn't bother delving into exactly who 'they' were, supposing the other girl would know, and was rewarded in her assumption when she answered soon after.

"No. I didn't."

Of course you didn't, Trisha mused, taking careful care to get the entire gunk out without doing more damage, and smiling contently when a thorough shake and comb through with her fingers told her it was finally gone. Feeling more like herself, she broadened her shoulders, cocking her head to the side inquisitively. "People are saying he asked you first, you know. That you turned him down," she broached.

There was a flurry of movements and then a flush that sounded louder than it need be before Raye immerged. "Who told you that?" she asked Trisha, breaking rarely the cool composure she kept about her. "Who knows?"

"Everybody knows. We all think it's terribly sad and more than a little cruel," she cooed plastering her best sympathetic pout. Reaching into her purse she pulled out a thickly dark tube of mascara and went to work reapplying her face, turning sly eyes to monitor the other girl's reaction. "I mean talk about inconsiderate! He found her as soon as he dumped you, right?"

"He didn't dump me," Raye interrupted, eyes intense. "I was the one who ended things."

"Right..." Trisha drawled rolling her eyes enough to be sceptic but not cruel. She needed information from this girl first and misery loved company. Wasn't that a line from Shakespeare or something? "It just seems weird to me," she declared while jamming the wand back into the tube. "He gets over girls really fast it seems, I mean wow."

"I said I was the one who dumped him," Raye contradicted. "Not the other way around. I could have married him and he proposed to me first."

"Well I'm not sure I believe you." She snapped, not missing a beat. Next came the lips and Trisha thought hard on what shade to use. She'd had Electric Fuchsia on before; maybe it was time for Peachy Salmon. She grabbed the tube. "It's hard to know what to believe, the entire town thinks he's more than madly in love with Serenity Jack to have married her so quickly. How could he have been dumped by you, and then married to her in less than a week later? From what I hear, Darien doesn't seem the least bit bothered that things between the two of you are over, he seems happy."

Satisfied, Trisha stepped back and examined both her handiwork, first the rich coat that accentuated her full lips and next the troubled picture that Raye painted beside her. The smile on her lips broadened and swiftly she gathered her things. When every last bit of make-up had been accounted for Trisha did a quick twirl before her reflection, never missing the way Raye's face all but sunk and her crinkled brows deepened.

Her work here was finished.

"So I'll see you around," Trisha called, spinning and sauntering up to the door. She paused, batting her lashes and looking back innocently to say, "Take care okay, and stay strong. Those rumours can't be true, just wait for it to blow over. After all, we can't all get Column's, even how hard we wish it." Hating how true those words were, particularly in her case, Trisha forced her smile to be brighter and left the room, thinking that she couldn't wait for what the coming days would bring.

So what if she wasn't the one to get Darien? Raye hadn't either. And if her guess was right, it didn't matter who had dumped who, the girl still had feelings for him. Somehow the thought made her lighter and Trisha realized that Shakespeare or whoever said this really was the man:

Misery did love company.

Life is Bliss...

A.N: Hey there, Guys! How did you like this chapter? Do you like it at all? If not, tell me why it didn't gel, I'm here to make this story enjoyable for you. But I have a confession to make. The thing is, a couple days ago the impossible happened and I wasn't so sure that I wanted to keep writing Bliss. There's a load of school work that needed and still needs to be completed and admittedly, I got lazy. This is my all-time favourite story (that I've written so far) and it wasn't easy to think of ending it, especially when I have yet to give my readers a suitable conclusion; but I had limited time on my hands and with the assignments looming closer, practicality started to wane on my resolve.

Until I talked to my beta/sister, SoujaGurl, that is! Promptly, she dismissed the possibility of even thinking of ending Bliss so soon; reminding me that I do this because I love it and nothing should get in the way of what makes me happy. I agree with her. There is still so much yet to happen and I owe it to all of you to finish. I love how this single story connects me to my readers all over the world, and because of you I cannot quit so easily! That means if you enjoyed reading this new instalment at all drop my little sister a line and tell her she did good by snapping me out of my funk, because really, she deserves it.

...And with that concludes the mushy segment of this note. *Gasps in relief.* The next order of business is pretty straight-forward, it is an apology to all of you for my crazy hiatus and a call for forgiveness! I'M SO SORRY! I'll try not to let you down again so pray for me (good things) and I'll do my best never to disappoint you. How is the story going so far? This simple question has become a stumbling block for my sister and I because I will want to sit and talk extensively once a chapter is finished about the pros and cons, and she will be like "No! It's fine."

Fine.

Like really, I work my butt off to write and all you have for me is "fine"? So frustrating, Guys. That is precisely why I need your opinions on this; what did/didn't you like and what did/didn't you love? What do you want to see and what is seen a little too much?

I can't wait for the feedback! I love you.

xoxo, Analynn