A/N: Now for the shopping of 'manly-yet-girly' Makoto! , *drool* ^^ Not really.

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me- wait, except for Ryohizu the fish. ^^

Making Plans

Makoto yawned, trying to wipe away the tears gathering in her eyes before Ami saw her. The smaller girl had the oddest way of knowing when something was bothering her, and Makoto found it a bit unnerving, after all the mischief Minako, Usagi, Rei, and Miki would want to put her through if they found her like that.

Ami had insisted on a change of clothes, and she'd dragged her over to the most expensive clothing shop she'd had the input to look into. Makoto was mildly curious the short-haired girl hadn't checked in with anyone as to where she was going except for a sharp whisper to the fish tank.

Tokyo's traffic was something to be aware of, but Ami seemed comfortable among the fast-moving cars, deftly dodging the hot exhaust pipes and pulling her after her with gentle tugs. Being taller, Makoto was surprised.

She had started to wonder if she was the only one who liked to do this for sport.

"Okay, Mako-chan, go pick out some suits. But make sure you look. . . girlish."

The firm command coming from the decisive girl almost made her laugh, but she swallowed her amusement and lightly tugged a dark suit from the racks.

She was supposed to be a guy, after all. A guy who needed money and was a vain suck-up for the crisp folds of dough. Huh. Like she could be like that without being heartless. So Makoto opted to be herself.

It was amazing there could be so many different suits for women that made them look dominating and there, and as Makoto browsed, she was surprised to find the shop girls starting to circle her, moving in and pointing out some sharp clothes.

What surprised her more, though, was that Ami let the women go around and help her into various states of non-revealing undress while she sat down and browsed through a magazine, flipping the pages like a casual observer.

Those blue eyes were studying her, Makoto could feel it.

First they zeroed in on her hair, down to where her neck was when she was facing away, then diving sharply to her shoulderblade when she twisted it to ease away the crick from carrying all the heavy suits on one arm, sifting through clothes with the other.

"Here, put them into this basket, Mako-chan. It's easier this way."

She gratefully dumped them into the waiting box. Usually she could hold her own without complaint or help, but shopping didn't really seem to be her thing. Grocery shopping more like it, since she knew exactly what she was going to buy, but for clothes?

More like Miki's style.

"Speaking from experience there, Blue?"

Makoto stopped a moment, looking down into the curving soft lips. Ami grinned, then, and she swore she saw the fountains come to life out of the corner of her eye. Must be time to have flipped the switch.

"When I first started defying my aunt, this was the most obvious way of going about it. Dressing up to start 'clubbing' and trying to find someone who'd go along with me. Heh, I should have listened to Artemis. He knew there were certain people out there, men and women, who would run off with their pockets full the first chance they got. He wanted the person to be someone. . . special."

The soft voice was tinged with amusement, but Makoto frowned.

"Why me, then?"

It was probably the most obvious question to ask at the moment.

Besides, didn't she say she would poke her nose in her employer's personal life before she was satisfied she was in good hands?

Well, it was too late to retract the question, but Ami seemed to want to contemplate her answer instead of taking offense. The smaller hands browsed through the racks gently, parting the silken material as something of an afterthought. Makoto picked up on the unconscious hint and was glad she did when Ami looked over and smiled.

The clock on the wall read nearing seven, and Makoto wondered how long her employer had. She was usually more efficient of her time. Picking up the top few clothes off of the ever-growing pile, Makoto slipped into a nearby changing stall and slipped off her pants.

She winced when she looked down at her toes, then ankles.

Though only a couple inches above her feet, the stall was almost like a bathroom, with the big fat crack for people to peer into while someone was changing. Makoto panicked, wondering if there were any major differences of a guy's toes and a girl's toes.

Oh, what did it matter, now, Ami wouldn't look, anyway.

"I. . I chose you because I'd seen you running down the streets in the morning, delivering chopsticks even when you didn't have to. Well, I guess what I mean is, I DID check up on you. At least, myself. I followed you to your karate class, so I knew you had that. I just thought you had pride and sensuality as a person, rather than go into some money-grabbing job. That was one of my main reasons. I. . really hope we can become friends, after this thing is over, Mako-chan. I-I'd really like that."

Makoto gulped, trying to shake the personal feeling hanging in the air when Ami finished speaking. Shaking herself like a dog, Makoto patted her clothes down and stared at herself in the mirror. Ami had seen her in her gi?

Wow, she was lucky she hadn't curbed on her laziness and resorted to wearing tank tops in the early season of summer!

Practically stuffing herself into the simple suit, Makoto flung open the door and stomped out, squeezing her eyes shut at her obvious lack of common sense. If Ami even thought she was a girl, she was certain the millionaire would dump her faster than a sack of hot potatoes.

Dump. . her?

Makoto paused, about stomping back into the stall and slamming herself in like a grumpy bear about to hibernate stubbornly before winter. She had no claim to Ami Mizuno, her money, her problems, her being. Why was she hesitating so much to tell her she was really female?

It would certainly clear up any problems if her aunt caught she was female when she was supposed to be 'male-as-female'. Makoto snorted and felt her brow furrow. She'd blame it on the inner want to never be abandoned again.

She'd been hurt before, she might as well steel herself before she was hurt again.

"Wow, Mako-chan, it looks great on you!"

The appreciative outburst snapped her out of it, and Makoto turned back as she watched those dark blue orbs lighten up, just a slight shade. It teased out a smile from her, and she cocked her head to the side, feeling the collar and loosening the top button to show off a bit of her collarbone.

"Yeah, it'll go over well with your aunt, eh? Look, Blue, it's better if we use these fast, so we can return them, get your money back."

Ami's smile dimmed, not in shape, but Makoto could swear she could feel the air start to chill her as something shifted inside the smaller girl. Grinning nervously, she backtracked to the main point.

"B-But. . . concerning your want to be friends- I'd really like that, too!"

Ami's inner glow returned, and that light shade came over her eyes again. But something else, not that exact same chill, but something just like that was flickering, low in her gut, and she'd sensed this before, countless times.

Before she could think it over, the lights flickered above them, then winked out completely.

Makoto reacted on instinct, dragging Ami to her as she rolled under the large table in the middle of the room holding the many sizes of boxers and shorts. The cieling above them rumbled and creaked, and it was a sound she'd heard many times before: A youma was attacking the building.

Sure to her guess, screams sounded, and Makoto cursed as she glared over at the red exit light on the other side of the room. The ceiling hadn't fallen down on them yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Scootching both of them out from under the heavy table, Makoto picked Ami up and ran out towards the exit. She could already hear the ceiling breaking over them, and plaster was falling in sharp pieces onto her shoulders and bare neck.

Judging by the heavy footsteps and humongous craters above her, the youma was something really big in mass and walked like a human. Or at least it stayed on the ground in duration to its steps.

Makoto fought the calling of her henshin pen and thought frantically.

She knew Ami could very well protect herself, turning into a senshi, but if she turned alongside her, well, explanations would probably kill her. Of course, several lives of fellow humans would be lost, and she couldn't have that.

Well, screw her job.

Sliding out the door on her hip baseball-player style, Makoto threw Ami onto a fluffy couch conveniently right in front of the lobby and whipped out her henshin stick. She could hardly see in the darkness, except for the unstable flickering of the red exit light, but it didn't matter.

Makoto had not trained all her life for nothing.

"Jupiter Planet Power, Make U-uhhp..?"

Something in the darkness clamped onto her upraised arm, and Makoto struggled as she felt the familiar cloth of senshi gloves and a flash of blond hair. What was Sailor Uranus doing here? And why was she restricting her transformation?

Makoto bit down on the uppermost finger in warning and the offending hand slowly went away. Turning angrily, she gestured to her unfinished transformation, skirt and blouse not included, and stalked off to grab a shirt.

"What are you two DOI-?"

"Shh, Makoto-chan, quiet."

"QUIET? While people DIE?"

"That's not true. LISTEN, Makoto-chan."

In the dark, Makoto strained to hear, the unwelcome intrusion of the Outer Senshi throwing her heartbeat into her usually-perfect hearing and making her think she was hearing things.

The ceiling had already caved in, for one thing, she was certain of that.

But there was something else. . .

*drip*

Makoto breathed out, slowly.

*drip*

The water sounded so lonely, so distant and cold. . .

*DRIP*

"MERCURY BUBBLE, BLAST!"

And the whole room gleamed white as bubbles cold as ice and an eternal time deadly invaded the air, launching themselves at the hulking beast towered dangerously in the far upper right corner of the building.

It roared, and Makoto saw its hide being none-too-gently ripped from its bones as the bubbles lodged itself into its greasy pelt, thick and dark brown from living in the Negaverse's putrid world. Red eyes gleamed and widened as one of the bubbles hit the brass half-ring in its snout, throwing its head back and revealing a set of broken fangs.

Ami stood, transformed, before it, her stance menacing and dark as she smiled coldly at the youma. No mercy was apparent in those frigid eyes, and Makoto gulped as she tried to breathe through her mouth, her breath frozen in her chest.

She was wearing a senshi uniform, all right, but somehow, it was different.

The color was wrong, it was too dark, too dull, too. . lifeless, that it seemed to draw the life out of the girl wearing it and seemingly sucked her into the walls.

Makoto tried to run forwards, tell her she would finish it off, she didn't want to see that heartless gleam of bloodlust in those eyes anymore, she didn't want to see those soft blue locks of hair flare with the intent to kill, even in the name of. .

In the name of what?

Uranus held her back, and Makoto noted with an enraged disattachment, Neptune was studying the ice wielder intently, flaring with some unseen-before energy herself.

"No, Makoto-chan. Wait. She's done this before. Watch. Don't look away. You've had to do this, too."

And Makoto watched.

She watched as the smaller senshi's face contorted in a pained scar, watched as she crossed her arms over her chest to deliver that final blow to rid the youma of its possessed mortal. It was utter hell to watch, but Ami had her captivated. She had her bewitched.

Ami struggled to push out with her power, struggled to produce the death-making bubbles she could finish the youma off with. With every second, her will seemed to pulse, then fade. Then, at the last second, Ami strengthened her resolve.

"Die."

Beside her, Makoto felt the two Outer Senshi rush the younger girl.

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"Thunder! Why haven't you transformed yet?"

Makoto grimly looked into those raging violet eyes tinged with the finest of fire-red, and shook her head. She didn't know the reason as to why she had been prevented to, either, but telling Sailor Mars that right now wasn't going to keep her from being fried.

Instead, she pulled rank from the taller senshi in the midst of battle.

"Sailor Uranus didn't let me. She told me to help the civilians. It's what I've been doing. Now all you guys have to do is to try and calm down Ami over there."

Makoto didn't shy away from the anger in those eyes.

She stared back, instead supplying information to the dark-haired priestess.

"Ami's my employer, and currently a senshi. I think she's gone crazy under the strain of defeating a youma here earlier. She's the one in the really dark blue."

Sailor Mars grit her teeth and stood to look, nodding as she spotted the said girl.

A surprised gasp made Makoto look up from her tending of wounds to a crying woman in her mid-sixties, urging her out the door and into safety. Fire seemed to glow across Sailor Mars' forehead, and Makoto instantly recognized the symbol for her planet.

How she missed her own right now, on the sidelines of battle.

"Thunder. . . She's got some kind of inner turmoil going on about her, and it's attached to her like a youma would possess a mortal. But. . she's fighting it, even as she tries to defend herself without hurting us."

Neptune had thrown a small Deep Submerge to wet down the girl, and it was easily ignored, since there was really no force behind it. Sailor Venus' Love-Me Chains were holding her down, though, and Sailor Moon had come behind Ami and had bopped her on the head with her fist, looking pained when she did.

There WAS something dark sticking to Ami, and Makoto then realized that was the reason why the senshi was looking so dark and devoid of life. Running over to her fellow friends, Makoto gestured for Minako to extract her chains when Ami returned to her unconscious civilian form.

"I think I know why she's like this, guys. And now, knowing what you've told me, I want to thank you, Haru-chan. If I'd transformed and attacked her, it wouldn't really fit into my plan."

And so, with the girls detransforming around her, Makoto told them what her plan was.

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A/N: . Wow, let's just say, I've released up all my pent-up frustration by writing Ami is as strong as I think she is. It's kind of annoying, to me, how they make the senshi as powerless as they seem. Well, hoped you liked it!