THREE

Author's Note:

I have NEVER been to LA let alone LAX, while some information here is garnered from the LAX website, the descriptions are probably more in tune with airports I have seen, OIA and so on. So, if anyone has actually seen LAX and sees any glaring errors that's why.

Also as before any dialogue in ( ) should be taken as being spoken in Japanese.

I do not recall much of the drive to the airport. I'm not even sure if the radio was on and were it not for the fact that I know I wouldn't have got into anyone else's car I couldn't even be sure that Harris was the one who was driving, or how long it took us to get there. We left the grocery store very quickly. I don't know who got to the car first, no, wait, it must have been me because I couldn't get in, and had to wait for Harris to get there to unlock the doors. He made some comment about my eagerness, and how he was also excited to meet one of my friends, especially one that I was this excited about seeing again. I don't mean disrespect to Minako, but at that point any of the senshi would have garnered the same reaction from me, or even Naru or any of our class mates even those who I didn't particularly get along with (most of them), I would have been eager to see, because they were familiar, but the fact that it was a fellow senshi and in the same area as me, that made it so much the better, because they would truly understand.

I stumbled through an apology for my snap at him, but by this point he had put it down to severe homesickness, and decided that it was best just to let it slide, which was very noble.

Right at that moment, though, the unconscious victims in the hospital couldn't have been further from my mind than biblical verses, the main focus was this: Airport. Minako. Airport. Minako.

For one frantic moment as we crossed the parking lot I realized I had no idea what terminal she was at or where, but sanity overtook and I retrieved the cell phone once more, praying in my heart, that it wasn't a fluke and it still would work.

Each ring of the call took felt as though it was stretched out to about an hour, as I stood waiting for the shuttle, Harris resting a hand on my shoulder and telling me to take it easy, waiting for her to pick up, but after a moment, "You're here already? Did you guys teleport?"

"No…I…where are you?"

"Terminal 2, waiting for my bags."

"Okay, we'll be right there!" I flip the phone closed, again, and scan the signs, "She's at terminal 2." I repeat to Harris even though he probably heard it all as we actually spoke in English.

"Terminal 2?" Harris finds this curious. It's not until we're in the shuttle and on the way that the reason comes up. There are signs detailing which planes come in where, and flights from Japan would be coming in to a different one. Terminal 2 mainly receives flights from Europe. I wonder if she was visiting her family or filming something…I try to remember what it was she was doing recently. How long has it been since we've been in touch with each other?

"Minako-chan has family in England," I explain, "She was probably visiting them just before."

"Chan?" Harris inquires, "That sounds Chinese. I'm even more confused."

"I didn't even tell you who we were meeting…" I realize as we disembark and look around for where baggage claim might be. There are so many people, bustling around carrying bags, shouting, complaining, trying to hold on to children and possessions but dropping both. Large crowds of rather pasty individuals are grouped around a woman with a large umbrella, while bags clatter around on conveyers and two others almost knock heads with each other both reaching for the same one.

Harris leans down to me, "Those look like they're probably from England or somewhere like it."

I look over at them; several of them are wearing t-shirts, even though the weather isn't all that warm, and one of the children is wailing about wanting to see Disney, and constantly being hushed by his mother. There is no sign of Minako.

I reach for the phone once again, when, "Ami-chan!" and I'm almost knocked over. How she can run so fast with so many cases I don't understand, but there is Minako arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tight, and then she releases me all trace of Usagi-like behavior disappears, as she scrapes stray strands of hair away from her face, and politely asks to be introduced to Harris, as I struggle to catch my breath.

"Minako this is…" Minako begins, gesturing towards Harris.

"Harris," both Harris and I say at the same time.

"Harris, Minako," I continue.

They shake hands, and Harris offers to take Minako's bags, as do I. There is much verbal tussling back and forth, and finally each of us winds up with something, and we start to make our way back across the concourse, when Harris stops for a moment and looks at the both of us as we stop mid-stream of excited Japanese about generic things.

"I'm sorry, the Japanese is rather rude of us," Minako remarks, "but it's been so long since-" then she trails off given Harris is shaking his head.

"No, I just...your name is the same as the girl that Ami and my sister were going on about the other day...and I'm in this moment of is that even possible? Or is Minako just a really common name in Japan like Ashley or Brittany is here..?"

Minako laughs as I flush red again, "Please let's clarify that in the car?" she says, as we're coming around the area that is the out pouring from the international terminal and she's pulled her hat down a bit further on her face, just in case.

Out of the terminals windows the sky looks overcast, but that turns out to just be the tinting. The day is almost blinding once we're outside, again, and the heat beats on you like a drill sergeant. We have some back and forth while we wait for the shuttle to the parking lot, and once it arrives. But this is mostly explaining to Harris that the reason Minako has no 'accent' when she speaks is because she's not exactly native Japanese, having grown up in Europe and then trying to decide what we're going to do once we get to the car. Does Minako have a hotel to stay at? Does she really have to sideways tease me about Harris at every opportunity?

We're in the car, again, before I realize it, Harris, of course, driving and me spending some time turned around to the back seat to talk to Minako, and forgetting how rude it is to talk in a language that someone else doesn't understand, when I slip over to avoid fumbling over words.

Minako is incredibly energetic, despite the fact she must have been on a long flight, and insists on taking us somewhere to eat, on her. Every once in a while she sticks a hand into one of her bags and I realize that Artemis must be hidden in there, given in plushie-look he can get passed all security issues and bypass quarantine.

"First we should answer Harris' question from before," I tell her, trying to distract.

"If you give me a bit more detail..." she says.

"Harris sister is a big fan of Japanese music," I explain, "and she was watching something about Plasma Witches from Xenon the other day."

Minako laughs, "Oh, no, that was pretty awful."

Harris glances back at her through the rear-view mirror, "You've seen it?" he says, sounding hopeful.

"I don't generally watch things I'm in," she says, "but I have seen some portions of that one, but...unless there's someone else releasing music under the name Aino Minako, that is me."

"Oh, man. My sister is going to flip out and possibly jump you." He says.

Minako laughs, "She can't be any worse than Usagi-chan was," she turns to me, "can she?"

"It's been a while since I've seen Usagi-chan," I answer.

"Anyway, you're not going to distract me from the fact that I offered to pay for food," she leans forward between the two front seats as we're stopped at the nineteenth traffic signal, "I know you were at the grocery store when I called, and knowing Ami-chan, that means she's probably got no food at all at her apartment and is absolutely starving but too polite to say anything about it. How often is it that I get to see her? And the least I can do since you graciously gave up your gasoline to collect me, and refuse to take any money for that is take you out to dinner as well."

Harris is suitably floored by Minako's charm. She insists on taking us to a quite pricey Japanese restaurant that's inside one of the nearby hotels.

She charms the concierge at the restaurant as well. Talking to people seems to be one of Minako's inherent strong points. The exact opposite being true for me. We find ourselves at a very nice table in a corner, lit by paper lanterns from the ceiling and an array of wonderful smells coming from the tepponyaki grills in the kitchen, near my head the walls are paper panels and the whole room has a burnished warm wooden feel and, "Oh, my! They have edamame!"

"It's excellent. I stayed here when we were filming a video one time, and couldn't get over the food!"

Harris excuses himself for a moment to call home and let them know he hasn't been car-jacked and left for dead at the side of the road (his words), and Minako leans over hungry for information, "He's cute!" she exclaims, "So, how long have you been...?"

"Been?" I ask.

"(Dating!)" She exclaims, "(Don't make me spell it out for you!)"

"(Oh! But we're not!)"

"(Like you and that Urawa boy weren't?)" She says.

"(That was different. He had to move. Besides there are other things to be concerned about…)"

She sighs, "(Don't you remember what we always used to say about 'all work and no play?') she shakes her head, "(You remember the way I…okay, I'm not the best example to use here, and Usagi-chan, that's a pretty bad example in some respects, but finding some sort of in the middle here, especially because it's now…)" she looks up at me, "(There's something I'm missing here.)"

I nod, "But I'll explain it later, at my apartment, when other people won't be being excluded from the conversation."

She nods.

Harris returns and sits down. We order. I, of course, have to get edamame, and we get various kinds of sushi, and, well, actually it almost feels like we order some of everything on the menu by the time we're done. Things I haven't ever tasted, things I want to introduce Harris to, things Minako insists we must have because they're simply delicious, and what else is she going to spend her money on, if it's not spoiling good friends.

By the time Harris gets back we've received hot tea, water and some bowls of seaweed salad along with the edamame.

"I told them that we'd picked a friend of yours up from the airport, but I wasn't sure if it was wise to mention exactly who that was," he says, as he sits back down.

Minako looks a little perplexed for a moment and then nods, "Ah, your sister, yes? You said she liked the music and things..."

Harris gave a sort of grin...grimace, "Well, like is a bit mild. I tend to call her a rabid freak...but then I'm also um...let's say, not really a fan of some of your culture's media entertainment products."

"Neither am I," Minako explains, "and I was actually in some of them."

I laugh.

"But seriously, if I don't talk you into coming to meet my sister and she finds out that I had dinner with you, and I'm not a rabid fan at all, she will hurt me so badly even Ami won't be able to fix me."

"I think we can arrange something," Minako says, "I am going to be here for some time, and we definitely can't have you being hurt or killed." She nudges me with her elbow.

Later that evening Harris drops Minako and me off at my apartment. It seems almost as though no time has passed since we picked her up from the airport but the LED clock on the microwave says that it's almost 11 p.m. I don't feel tired at all.

We've loaded Harris's phone with pictures and a short video special message from Minako for his sister, and sent him home with the leftovers of Minako's favorite foods so that she can have that to tide her over until we can sort out a meeting that will make all her Minako-fan-forum friends jealous.

"What's wrong?" Minako asks, as I lock the many bolts on the door. She turns on one of the light switches and messes around for a while before she realizes that the light was already on and she only needed to tug the pull cord. I pull down the blinds, "She can't be that bad..."

"She does remind me very much of Usagi-chan," I explain, "But that's not the only part of it..."

Once the blinds are closed Minako bends down to let out her white cat, whose been waiting mostly patiently, appeased with tidbits of food that Minako would sneak into her bag at the restaurant. She gives him half of a tray of some of the leftovers that we kept, and I go to the refrigerator to find something for him to drink.

"My problem with Usagi-chan was that she lacked focus," she puts up a hand and refuses my offer for a drink, "I had my fill at Kyoto. Plus, she was blabbing private, sensitive, senshi information in front of civilians, like my manager, and me, given you had no idea who I was at that time. This girl, she's just a normal fan type, those are easy to deal with. Well, so long as she doesn't think I'm going to be doing a private concert or something..." she sits down on the worn couch, and glances at the trunk I have next to it, which is operating as a coffee table.

I had forgotten in all the excitement that the coffee table is piled high with notes. My laptop is sitting on it, but in sleep mode, and there are papers with my handwriting all over the place, linking this, circling that, highlighted portions of newspaper articles, and from the looks of my printer, several pieces of information I left printing finished doing so while I was out. There's bits from Tokyo during the local battle, forum pages with more recent things printed. I've got them separated into several piles.

Minako picks up the top chart and scans it, "What is this?" her voice switches instantly from amiable to Business. I'm talking to Venus now even though she hasn't transformed.