Disclaimer: You know it's just sad that we've been together all this time and you still need me to tell you that I don't own Sailor Moon.

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Story 66: Her and His Chronicles

His Claiming

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Tap, tap, tap; digits drumming against the wooden counter provided the very soundtrack of irritation. Clenching his teeth together he could practically feel the sour, metallic flavor of anxiety pooling at the tip of his tongue.

"Is there something wrong with the coffee?" Motoki inquired, feeling a tab bit offended that his creation had been left untouched for the past hour.

Eyes locked on the ma- no, correction, boy- sitting at the corner booth of the small arcade Mamoru offered a small shake of his head as an appropriate response.

"Hmm, then," Motoki touched his chin delicately with his index finger. "Would you like me to fetch a syringe from the first aid kit since you don't seem to want to ingest it orally?" He asked, eye twitching slightly. When his patron failed to respond the young blonde haired man found himself clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. "Oh," He smirked devilishly. "Doesn't Usagi-chan look a bit different today?"

"Ah," Mamoru couldn't help but nod in agreement, his ocean colored orbs drifting to her figure momentarily before locking them once again with the enamored blonde haired sip of a boy.

'Stop', Mamoru's mental voice practically screamed across the room.

"But, I can't seem to pinpoint-" Motoki tilted his head in thought.

"Her hair is three inches shorter," Mamoru crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Approximately," His sighs colored the air around him, painted black in his very unease.

"And there seems to be someone else whose noticed her- how do you say, sparkle," Motoki teased ignoring the almost primal growl that licked at the back of the ebony haired man's throat. Taking hold of the full coffee mug the blonde haired man smiled, "I'm just stating the-" the syllables died a very quick death at the edge of the young man's tongue, Mamoru's digits froze as they both watched the boy slide out of his seat before beginning to make his way towards Usagi.

Before the logical part of Mamoru's brain could restrain him he found himself pushing himself off the stool. "Oye!" Motoki's protest fell on deaf ears while Mamoru practically found himself jogging across the crowded arcade, successfully reaching the young girl first. Face warped with disappointment Usagi could only watch as the neon GAME OVER sign flashed on the screen in front of her. "What else could go wrong today?" She questioned, scornfully before too much at her surprise she felt a pair of hands land on her shoulders, forcefully turning her around. "Mamo-baka! What do you want?" She bit out through clenched teeth.

"Nothing in particular," Controlling his thick voice to remain indifferent he reached down and took her petite hand gently into his own.

It was a small gesture.

A small, insignificant thing that conveyed his possession; surprised the young, nameless boy shifted his course midstride, his face coloring slightly.

Confusion wrapped around the girl in a thick blanket, "Mamo-baka?" She whispered, "Is this some sort of new punishment game?"

Embarrassment washed over Mamoru causing his mouth to twist oddly, "Ah," recovering quickly he snatched his hand away from hers. "Just an experiment, nothing more, and," He shrugged his shoulders, turning away coldly. "I won't bother to explain since someone on your level wouldn't even begin to fathom its complexities."

Face flushed with anger, Usagi quickly slipped back into their usual routine, "BAKA!" She cried, the sound of her shriek echoing off the arcade's walls.

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An: I feel soo rusty. I know it's been a while, just been dealing with a dry spell. Writer's block sucks people.

Anyways, my leg is at it again so I'm going to be stuck in bed all holiday weekend so maybe I can produce another one shot.