Sailor Moon: Millennials

by PMSmiles

This is a fan repost of all available 33 chapters of The Judge's abandoned work. An epic length and very ambitions fic involving an amnesiac Pluto and a pregnant Usagi. Time and space travel abound in an effort to right wrongs and overcome evil.

24. Chapter 24

DISCLAIMER: Hello. Before I go any further, I want to publicly state that this work of fan fiction is NOT of my own creation. I am simply a fan of this piece and after strenuously searching the internet to read it again after 20 years I have decided to upload it here for anyone else who wants to read it. The real author (The Judge) never finished this work, or at least never updated past chapter 33 (even though it is obvious that the ambitious plot of this story should continue much past this point). So please don't come after me for more updates. There won't be any. Rather enjoy this incomplete fan fiction for what it is and please forgive me for any formatting errors, some of the text files had to be manually edited and I did my best.

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SAILOR MOON: MILLENNIALS

Chapter 24

Schools Out, and Visions of Things to Come

When the people of Tokyo started waking up on Monday morning, they discovered that a large bank of clouds had moved in over the city during the night. These were not the sort of puffy-white, cottony-soft, and entirely harmless-looking clouds that appear in otherwise clear blue skies; such clouds rarely if ever offend anyone, and wouldn't have attracted more than a passing glance. Neither were the clouds the sort of looming black thunderheads that boil up before a storm, flashing and rumbling deep within as a warning of things to come. Although most people generally don't like getting rained on—and others have serious issues with thunder and lightning—there is a certain majestic quality that can be appreciated in such storms, as the power of nature builds up to once again show her children just what she can do. Then too, when the morning starts out with approaching clouds, you know you've got some time before the storm begins, so you have a sporting chance to get wherever it is you're going.

On this day, though, the sky was filled from horizon to horizon with the sort of dreary grey clouds that seem to start at the ground and just keep on going, thickening steadily until the upper floors of office buildings and high- rise apartments vanish within them. There was no visible dawn today, only a steady shift from dark and wet to grey and wet—and it was _profoundly_ wet. It had started raining well before dawn, a slow drizzle of chill water that had left the roads and sidewalks slick, a rain whose chill benumbed flesh and seeped into the very bones despite all measures taken to conserve warmth and dryness, and which promised to continue well into the afternoon, if not the night. Not a single person could so much as look outside without feeling tired and depressed, and so the city as a whole got off to a sluggish, even moody start.

It was a cold, wet, unlovely day. It was, in a word, dismal.

In that, Haruna surmised, as she looked out of the window of the Juuban High teacher's lounge, the weather was likely to be perfectly suited to the collective mood of the greater student population of Tokyo. After all, today was that dreaded time between exams and spring vacation, the day—no, The Day—when the year-end marks were posted.

This year, the particular honor of actually putting up the marks for the students at Juuban had been delegated to her—'delegated' as in the old downhill-sliding adage. Saezuri Kakura, the music teacher, had just appeared in her office on Saturday afternoon, dropped off a key and some cheerful instructions, and then disappeared before Haruna could make any kind of coherent response.

Personally, she suspected it might be some twisted aspect of Principal Hashido's sense of humor at work, though it probably also had something to do with the fact that she was the most junior member of the high school's current staff. That rushed, last-minute transfer back in January had carried all sorts of drawbacks with it—not the least of which was the mess it had made of her classes—so it wouldn't surprise her to learn that there was a secret end-of-term lottery amongst the faculty to see who got to delay the commencement of their own meager break plans to post the students' exam results and overall grades.

*I'll have to remember to nose around a bit next term,* Haruna thought, sipping her coffee. *I'd rather not get stuck sitting around this place by myself for an entire day _again_ if I can help it.*

Actually, she wasn't totally alone—discounting the ebb and flow of students that had started right around eight-thirty, Niwa, the head groundskeeper, was here somewhere as well—and she could have helped it. All that she'd really had to do was put the results up on the bulletin boards outside the front entrance, a task that would have taken maybe half an hour and not required her to come inside or wait around at all. She had been _sorely_ tempted to do just that.

But it had been raining when Haruna arrived at seven-thirty, and when she took a moment to ask Niwa, he said it had been raining when he got there at around six—and it was giving every indication that it would keep on raining for quite some time. The bulletin boards had plastic guards to protect notices during just this sort of bad weather, but Haruna doubted that she could get all the papers into those holders without at least some of the results getting water-smeared right out of existence, and even if she somehow managed that, she couldn't bring herself to leave the students to stand around in this sort of cold and wet.

So instead, she was sitting in the lounge, drinking her coffee, reading a book borrowed from the library, and—in general—just doing whatever came to mind that might pass the time. Out in the foyer, students appeared and disappeared through the doors with an irregular frequency. Some came alone, though most were in groups; several looked at their marks and flew into fits of hysteria, many of them as joyous as others were depressed, while others merely noted their marks and left. Most of them, Haruna was sure, didn't even realize she was there, and none stayed any longer than they had to.

Almost none.

A few minutes short of quarter to eleven, when she was just about done with the book—and long since finished with the coffee—Haruna heard the sounds of opening doors, shuffling, rain-squelching footsteps—enough of them to belong to a small army, or so it sounded—and then a familiar whine.

"Whyyyyyy does it have to be such a rotten day out?" Usagi complained. "Isn't it _enough_ that we have to endure this torment without them making us go through it freezing cold and soaked right down to the bone, too?"

"Quit whining at us, odango-atama," Rei replied sharply, her presence not really surprising Haruna. "We can't change the weather any more than you can."

"Cut it out, you two," Minako interrupted, her voice sounding as if the gloomy weather had gotten even her ultra-perky spirit down. "The last thing we need on a day like today is a fight. Let's just get our marks and then go find a place to dry off and warm up. Does that sound like a plan to everyone?"

There were a number of fervent replies of agreement, many more squishing and squeaking steps, and then a short silence followed by Usagi's voice rising into a screech of protest. "WHAT IS THIS?!"

"What's what?" an unfamiliar male voice said. There was an accent of some sort there, Haruna guessed, and the owner of the voice sounded as if he were several years older than her students.

"THIS!" The wall thumped. "This right here!"

"Did you fail another course?" Rei asked. A moment later, she spoke again, her voice having made the jump from good-natured teasing to numbed shock. "That's... that has to be a mistake."

"You see what I mean?" Usagi said.

"This is impossible!"

"Now wait a minute..."

On that note, Haruna closed her book and got up from her chair. She knew enough to know that Rei and Usagi could get into a fight at the drop of a hat on even the best of days, and this, being far from the best of days, would probably make their imminent argument a lot worse.

*For 'worse,'* she thought wearily, *see also 'noisier,' 'higher-pitched,' 'longer,' and 'meaner.'* They were about four seconds away from exploding at each other, and if nothing else, Haruna wanted to get through this day without getting a headache.

"Can I be of some help here?" she asked, walking out into the hall and setting off a round of nervous starts and half-jumps. In addition to the three girls who had spoken, Haruna saw that Ryo and Yuuichirou were also present, but that Ami and Makoto—rather surprisingly—were not. As for the unfamiliar voice, it had to belong to the tall, white-haired, and almost inconceivably handsome young man whose right arm Minako was holding in a supremely proprietary grip.

"Hino-san, Kumada-san" Haruna said, nodding politely to Rei and Yuuichirou. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise," Rei replied, nodding. Haruna wasn't surprised when Yuuichirou didn't add anything except a smile and a quick nod to that. She was a bit of a professional when it came to the dating game, and there had been signs at Usagi's party in the autumn that there was _definitely_ something between Yuuichirou and the young Shinto maiden. He was clearly devoted to her, and she in turn was at least interested, if not quite so openly or possessively as Minako seemed to be of the white-haired newcomer.

"Oh," Minako said quickly, "Haruna-sensei, this is Arthur Knight. He's a friend I met in England. Arthur-kun, this Sakurada Haruna."

"Pleased to meet you." Rather like his accent, Arthur's bow was half the Japanese style and half the courtly style of ballroom dancing and old English, and he reinforced it with a charming smile. Haruna ignored the fact that her heart skipped a beat at that smile as she returned the bow.

"You must be the mystery man that everyone was talking about last week."

"Yes, I guess I must be." Not only did he not look at Minako while saying that, but he didn't even appear to be trying not to. She still looked up and made a face at him, of course.

"Haruna-sensei," Usagi said then, "about my marks..."

"I overheard," Haruna interrupted. "May I?" She moved past Usagi and scanned through the list of names, then began to read aloud:

"Art and Art History. Exam: 72. Term Grade: 80. As it happens, I spoke with Meijin-san last Thursday. He said that even if your technique was a little shaky at times, you had the creative aspect of the course down pat. You were weak on the 'history' part, though, which would have gotten you a 70 or 75 for the course, but he was impressed by the painting you did for your final project and decided it was worth a better grade. It was a landscape, right? Something about the moon?"

"History. Exam: 84. Term Grade: 80. I can tell you for certain that this one's accurate. Your marks from the first half of the term weren't that good, but you did better towards the winter break and in the last two months. Group study sessions, I believe? At any rate, you improved enough and scored sufficiently well on the exam to level out the 60 you were heading for before Nurin-san left. Even if you did fall asleep at the end of the test."

"Home and General Economics. Exam: 76. Term Grade: 78. Ryori-san has said several times that she's been telling you the entire term to thank Makoto for teaching you how to cook those five or six recipes, and that you should stay away from sewing machines like your life depended on it, so I don't suppose I have to repeat any of it. She's also said that she was impressed by how well you handled yourself when the course switched over to basic business and finance, and that you showed a strong sense of teamwork and good leadership ability."

"Math. Exam: 68. Term Grade: 77. You scored fairly consistently on quizzes and tests for the whole term, and much better than I've seen you do before—for which I think you have a great deal to thank Ami—but you didn't do quite so well on the final, so it brought your mark down."

"Political Science. Exam: 94. Term Grade: 92."

A dead silence followed that last one. "94?" Minako said slowly. "Usagi... got a 90... on a test? For a CLASS?" Haruna nodded, and after a long moment, Minako started to chuckle. "Your parents aren't going to know what hit them, Usagi-chan."

"This isn't funny!" Usagi protested. "I have a reputation to maintain! Do you have any idea what marks like this are going to cost me?"

"Yes," Rei said. "Once your parents know that you actually _can_ get these kinds of grades, they'll be a lot less tolerant of your usual results in the future, so you may actually have to do some real work for a change."

"Exactly! I'll..." Usagi stopped and glared at Rei. "There has to have been some kind of mistake," she insisted in a level voice. "Seiji-sensei's one of the toughest markers in school; I _can't_ have gotten a grade like that in his class!"

"Were we back in junior high right now," Haruna said, "I'd have agreed with you just out of habit. I don't think I ever saw you get a mark higher than about sixty percent, and you only passed the high school entrance exam by—what? Five? Six points?"

"If even that much," Rei murmured, getting another glare—which she returned.

"I saw your marks when I was putting the lists up this morning," Haruna continued, "and I'll admit that they rather surprised me, so I went into the records and dug up your grades. As it turns out, your marks have been increasing steadily over the last two or three years. It's most noticeable in the humanities; for example, your final mark for the English course you took last term was up by more than fifty percent of what you were getting in junior high, and your History marks have improved similarly. Even in the sciences, you're scoring significantly better than you used to, and while the improvements there aren't as great as in everything else, they've at least brought you up to the point where you're not right on the edge of failing everything."

"But... but..."

"So these really ARE her marks?" Minako asked, looking at the list a second time.

"Yes, they are."

"But... but..."

"I guess all that studying was bound to rub off sooner or later," Rei said as she turned to Usagi, who was still sputtering like a bad engine. "Now sit down and take a breath before you hurt yourself." She led Usagi to a chair in the waiting area by the office. "Yuuichirou, give me a hand here."

"Sure thing," Yuuichirou said quickly, as he moved to assist. Most of the others smiled at this; Minako rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Do _you_ have any questions about your marks?" Haruna asked.

"Oh, no. They're just about what I was expecting." Minako grinned. "I can't wait to tell Ami-chan that I got a better grade in English than she did."

"By one entire point," Ryo said lightly.

"Hey, better is better. Let's not scribble over the details."

"'Quibble,'" Arthur said immediately.

"You said what?"

"It's 'quibble,' not 'scribble,'" the white-haired Englishman explained, with just a hint of a long-suffering patience, a tone that spoke eloquently of many, many previous encounters with Minako's unique linguistic style.

"While we're on the subject," Haruna said quickly, interrupting Minako's reply, "where _are_ Ami and Makoto? I would have expected them to come in with the rest of you."

"Uh... yeah." Minako's cheery smile, which thanks to Arthur had already died down, now faded completely. "They're at home. Mako-chan... had an accident yesterday, so Ami-chan's looking after her, and we're getting their marks for them."

"I see." Haruna looked closely at Ryo and Minako. "Would either of you care to tell me what's been going on with Makoto recently?"

"'Going on,' Haruna-sensei?"

"Don't try to dodge, Minako; I have eyes and ears, and Makoto hasn't been acting at all like herself for weeks now. She was almost asleep on her feet in the mornings, and I can think of at least five separate instances when she was completely spaced out—and _not_ in the usual way. She's been tired, vague, and even forgetful, and now you're saying that she had an 'accident.' If she's in trouble, I want to know, NOW."

Minako's mouth opened and then closed when she saw the serious look on Haruna's face. Matching the expression, she replied, "Mako-chan isn't in any kind of trouble, Haruna-sensei. She just... she recently inherited some things that used to belong to an old friend of hers who passed away a while ago. They hadn't exactly spoken much lately, and when these things just showed up all of a sudden, it hit Mako-chan a little hard."

In a very loose way, that was true—if one considered a past life to be an 'old friend,' or if you viewed the abilities to sense emotions and communicate with plants as things you could inherit. Next to the ongoing wear-and-tear picking up other people's emotions had been inflicting on Makoto, the Aegis were almost inconsequential. Or rather, they _would_ have been, if she hadn't gone ahead and used them in spite of all the warnings.

"Oh. I see." Haruna sighed and shook her head. "One of you could have mentioned this sooner, you know."

"We could have," Minako admitted, "but we decided not to. Don't take this the wrong way, Haruna-sensei, but when a student has a problem like this, most of the time the teacher's reaction is to send them to a counselor. Mako-chan wouldn't have taken that very well."

"No, I don't suppose she would." There were some very distinct qualities in each of the members of this group that Usagi had gathered around herself during that year in junior high, and Haruna had gotten to know them rather well. Taken individually, it might seem odd for the five of them to be such good friends, but when seen as a whole, their relationship suddenly made a lot of sense; each contributed something that the others either didn't have or didn't have as much of, and their very different personalities and talents complemented each other's best strengths and compensated for each other's weaknesses.

Haruna didn't say it out loud, but where Ami was obviously the brain—and Usagi just as clearly the heart—Makoto had always struck her as the 'shoulder' of this nearly organic friendship, both in the sense of what the others leaned on as well as what did the heavy lifting. She was a reassuring sort of person to have around: reliable; easy to talk to; supportive; a lot like what counselors aimed for.

And as the old saying went—everywhere except in Minako's mind, anyway—doctors were always the worst patients. Something similar would likely apply here.

"She's not too badly hurt, is she?"

"No," Minako said. "She took a fall and got roughed up a bit, but mostly she's just really tired. She'll be back up in a day or two like nothing happened." Minako paused as a thought came to her. "Unless of course Ami-chan decides to exact some sort of revenge on her..." She turned that possibility over in her mind, then shook her head and turned her attention back to Haruna. "So, Haruna-sensei; out of curiosity, why are you here today? This is the fourth time I've seen end-of-term marks in this place, and it's the first time there's ever been a teacher around to clear things out for us."

"That's 'clear things up,'" Arthur corrected. "Up, not out."

"Whatever. Has there been a change in school policy or something?"

"If there has, I haven't been advised." Haruna very briefly outlined her suspicions about the procedure for deciding which teacher got stuck with the last job of the year, and then added a quick explanation of her decision to move everything indoors. Ryo thanked her on behalf of the entire student body for that consideration, but Minako responded rather differently.

"You mean you're going to just sit here for the rest of the day and _waste_ a perfectly good afternoon?" the blonde demanded in tones of outrage. Ryo blinked at her choice of words and then glanced out the front door at ongoing rain; Arthur and Haruna joined him.

"Your definition of 'a good afternoon' is miles apart from mine, Mina- chan," Arthur said finally.

"Quiet, you," Minako warned, as she looked around at the foyer and office area. "You said Niwa-san was here somewhere, Haruna-sensei?"

"Yes," Haruna replied cautiously. "The last time I saw him was about fifteen minutes ago. I think he said he was going up to check the drains on the roof..."

"He _would_ have to be outside," Minako muttered. She shook her head, released Arthur's arm, and flipped up the hood of her raincoat. "You wait here; I'll be back." She was down the corridor and heading up the stairs before anyone could stop her or ask what she was plotting. Across the hall, Rei, Usagi, and Yuuichirou watched her go and then looked over to the others, the same question written on all three of their faces. Arthur sighed, shook his head, and glanced at Haruna.

"You haven't had lunch yet, have you?"

The first vague thought to enter Makoto's mind as she woke up was a mild curiosity as to why the rocks beneath her were so soft, warm, and flexible. It took a moment for her to realize that she wasn't lying on the rocky surface of a distant moon, but rather on a waterbed; once that recognition had settled in, Makoto quickly became aware of the familiar presences gathered around what she now understood to be Michiru's bed, and opened her eyes. Mercury, Calypso, Michiru, Haruka, Hotaru, ChibiUsa, and Luna were all sitting or standing around the bed, watching her. Mercury had the Caduceus out and her visor switched on, and Makoto could feel a small spot on her forehead which was probably that little sensor-node-thing from the Mercury Computer.

"Hey," Makoto whispered, forcing a small smile.

"Hey yourself," Haruka replied, with something that approached her trademark cocky grin. "You still alive?"

"I think so." Makoto tried to sit up, but just lifting her head off the pillow made her incredibly dizzy and started the muscles in her neck and back screaming in protest. "Yeah," she added, laying back and trying to relax, "I'm alive. I hurt too much to be dead. What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Mercury said. "A few minutes after you shoved Haruka back through the dimension door, it was destroyed by an explosion on your side. We had to come _here_ before Saturn could open another door, and when she did, there was a king-sized thunderstorm in progress on the other side. Haruka and I found you right in the middle of it, with _those_ floating around you."

At Mercury's nod and quick glance, Makoto reached up with one sore hand to touch the source of the faint weight that she had been growing more aware of, a group of small shapes resting lightly against her collarbone and the sides of her throat. She also felt a familiar cotton fabric, and could clearly see the sleeve of her green pajamas out of the corner of one eye.

"Why am I wearing these?"

"Well," Haruka began, breaking into a genuine smile, "there _was_ a bit of a discussion about that when we put you to bed. Michiru was all for stripping you down and..." Since Michiru was sitting on the edge of the mattress, just in front of Haruka, the statement ended with a sudden cough.

"We were going to take you home," Mercury said, while Michiru withdrew her elbow from Haruka's ribs, "but Caly noticed that the Aegis were still active even after you'd changed back to normal. We weren't sure what that meant, and since Hotaru couldn't open a dimension door into the apartment—we'll explain that to you later," she added, in response to Makoto's questioning look. "We couldn't use a dimension door; we didn't want to risk teleporting you again until we were reasonably sure you were okay AND we knew what the Aegis were doing; and we would have had a lot of trouble physically moving you across town, so Michiru donated her bed—again—I went and picked some things up from the apartment, and Haruka went to get Luna."

"...who was not at all pleased to hear _why_ she was needed," Luna stated, covering her worry and relief with an angry growl. "I thought we'd made an impression on you of just how dangerous using the Aegis is, Makoto."

"It was an accident." Speaking slowly, Makoto described what had happened after she had pushed Uranus through the dimension door. She explained the Furies' apparent ability to sense the Aegis, the unexpected boomerang effect the Weapon had demonstrated when she tried to get rid of it, and the race that had been touched off as a result.

"I hit one of the Furies with Supreme Thunder," she continued, "and it backed off, so I tried using a Thunder Dragon on the whole group. I had to jump and fire back down over the Aegis to hit them, but it worked, and they either ran or were blown away, so I tried to get the ones that were left into a single group so I could do it again. I think the Aegis had been absorbing more energy, because when I turned to fire the second Thunder Dragon, they caught up with me a lot faster than they had before. The attack hit the Aegis instead of the Furies, the Aegis started charging up for something, the Furies ran for it... and the next thing I remember is waking up here." Makoto tried to lick her lips. "Could I have a glass of water? My whole mouth feels dry."

"That's not surprising," Michiru noted. "All you've had to drink for the past twenty-four hours is what we've been able to get you to drink—and that's not really very much."

Makoto stared at her. "I've been asleep for an entire _day?_"

"Not precisely asleep," Calypso said, turning around where she sat in mid-air to pick up an empty glass and a pitcher of water from the bedside table beyond Mercury. "There's been a minor but steady flow of energy going into your body from the Aegis—and then back again—and a lot of that has been communication. Of a sort." She set the pitcher down, frowned at the lukewarm water in the glass, and closed her hands around it with a look of concentration. After a moment in which her skin glowed blue, the Nereid nodded and held the now-cool glass forward for Makoto, who took it and drained it in one long swallow.

"So I've been talking in my sleep?" Makoto asked.

"In a telepathic sense," Calypso said with a nod. "The information coming from the Aegis was mostly technical data about the Weapon itself and how to use it, and the information coming from you sounded rather like your personal biography." She blushed. "I hope you don't mind that I listened in on it. I didn't hear all that much, and we _did_ need to know what was going on."

"We'll talk about it later," Makoto said, handing the glass back and then -with a fair bit of help from Mercury and Luna—pulling herself to a sitting position. Maybe it was the water, or maybe it was just being awake, but she was beginning to feel better. "Why would the Aegis want to hear my life story?"

"The Aegis are supposed to function by attuning their energy to the energy of the user," Luna replied. "Not just the power of Jupiter, but the unique life-force of the woman herself. Everything you are has been shaped by the experiences of your past, so it makes a certain amount of sense that the Aegis would need to know what you've been through. That part and the subliminal instructions they've been giving you didn't bother me too much."

"But..."

"But," Mercury said, adjusting the readout on her visor, "the Aegis are definitely doing something _more_ than just exchanging information with you. There's unusual electrochemical activity in areas of your brain that don't have anything to do with memory, conscious or otherwise, your red blood cell count has gone up by thirty-four percent, and your digestive system-"

Makoto's stomach promptly growled—loudly—and she realized that she was absolutely starving.

"I think that we can guess what you were about to say, Mercury," Haruka noted blandly. "Well, since Mako-chan's incapacitated, and Hotaru-chan hasn't learned how to make food appear from thin air yet, who's doing the cooking?"

"I can have a bowl of chicken soup ready in about thirty minutes," Michiru said, looking at Makoto and smiling. "It may not be gourmet, but it should fill you up. Does that sound okay?" The response was another stomach-growl, and the older girl nodded as she stood up. "Hotaru-chan, ChibiUsa, you come with me. We can fix some sandwiches for her while the soup heats up."

As the three of them filed out, Calypso poured another glass of water and then looked at the nearly-empty pitcher. Shrugging, she handed the glass back to Makoto, stuck her hand into the jar to absorb the last traces of water from it, and then followed Michiru and the other two out and down to the kitchen—clearing the railing of the upstairs landing and drifting gracefully down to the ground floor in the process.

After Calypso's casual defiance of gravity, Haruka shook her head and turned to Mercury. "How do you get used to that? The floating, I mean."

"Gradually," Mercury replied. "Just like the rest of her quirks."

"We still need to have a talk about some of those 'quirks,'" Makoto noted, removing the sensor from her forehead and handing it over to Mercury before pushing herself up out of bed.

"Are you sure you really want to try moving around right now?" Luna asked, catching Makoto by the arm and helping her stand.

"Luna," Makoto replied, her voice strained but level, "I don't know what it is that the Aegis are doing to me, but you people have been pouring water into me for the past twenty-four hours. If I don't use the washroom soon, I am going to explode."

Michiru usually tried to arrange things so that Haruka never got to answer the phone, but when the phone rang, she was busy making sure ChibiUsa, Hotaru, and Calypso cleaned up the dishes. Ami and Luna were going through the Mercury Computer's database one byte at a time trying to find anything on the Aegis, and Makoto—from the sound of things—was just getting out of the shower, so by default, that left Haruka.

"Hello, you've reached Seabreeze Bed and Breakfast. Can I help you?"

"Um..." Usagi's voice was very uncertain. "Actually, I think I may have dialed the wrong number..."

"Why are you calling us by phone when you've got your communicator to reach us with?" Haruka asked pointedly, leaning back against the wall.

Usagi was silent. "You know, Haruka, you're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Who said it was a joke? The way the rest of you keep crashing here, we might as well go into the overnight motel business."

"If you're _that_ eager to see Michiru in a maid's uniform, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Usagi said dryly, and without the least trace of embarrassment. "Now, if I can drag you away from your fantasies for just a moment..."

"Uh, yeah," Haruka agreed hastily, wondering why _she_ was the one blushing after that exchange. "Why _are_ you calling by phone, anyway?"

"We're at a restaurant, entertaining one of Mina-chan's wonderful ideas. It would have been a little bit of a problem trying to use the communicators in mixed company." She explained the situation.

"You took your teacher out to lunch?" Haruka said it with a certain slow astonishment.

"What?" Usagi demanded. "Is there something wrong with that? She did all the students a nice turn and gave up a morning's worth of her own time, so why _shouldn't_ we do something nice for her?"

"Well, if you're going to try and bribe some extra points out of a teacher, don't you think you ought to have done it _before_ she marked the test?"

"For your information," Usagi said flatly, "I did fine on the exams."

"Suuure you did." There was another round of silence before Usagi spoke again.

"How's Mako-chan doing?"

"She woke up again a little while ago," Haruka reported, "and it looks like she's going to make it stick for longer than ten minutes this time." She stepped away from the wall and began to pace in an erratic fashion as she talked. Haruka tended to walk around while she talked on the phone, and so— after getting accidentally tripped up or clotheslined a few times by outstretched phone cords—Michiru had replaced the older phones in the house with newer, cordless models. "She's in the process of making herself human again as I speak, and we managed to get some food into her and get some details about what happened out. So far, things seem more or less okay."

"And the Aegis?"

"The brain trust is still drawing a major blank on that front. Whatever it is that the Aegis are doing to Mako-chan, they let Hotaru heal her _very_ easily _and_ made her hungry enough to eat at your pace for a while, but aside from that..." At the muffled sound of something falling down upstairs, Haruka stopped talking and pacing and looked up.

"Haruka?"

"Hang on a sec." She looked over at Michiru, who was coming out of the kitchen with her attention and a worried frown directed towards the source of the noise. "You heard it, too?"

Heading for the stairs, Michiru nodded. She paused at the sound of another thump, and her frown went from worried to mildly curious.

"Heard what?" Usagi asked.

"Give us a minute, will you?" Haruka said into the phone, as she followed Michiru up the stairs. As they neared the top, they could hear the words of a low-key argument going on in the master bedroom, and Makoto stepped out a moment later, dried off and fully dressed, but also looking annoyed about something.

"What?" she snapped, looking crossly at the two older girls.

"We heard something fall," Michiru replied calmly. "We thought you might have fainted."

"I don't faint," Makoto said flatly. "Excuse me." She walked past the two of them, radiating the air of someone who's just been mortally insulted and tugging angrily at the string of the Aegis, still hanging around her neck in that precisely placed manner. As Makoto stomped down the stairs, Ami and Luna emerged from the room, glancing cautiously in her direction.

"What happened?" Michiru asked.

"She fell down," Ami said.

"That's it?" Haruka looked over the railing as Makoto made her way into the kitchen, radiating a cloud of indignation. "Why would that get her so worked up?"

"She tripped over her own feet," Ami explained. "_Three_ times."

"We only heard two," Michiru murmured faintly.

"I caught her the last time," Luna said, "although I think that may have upset her as much as the falling down did."

"Will somebody tell me what is going on?" Usagi's voice demanded from the receiver in Haruka's hand.

"Mako-chan seems to have inherited your long-lost clumsiness in addition to your appetite," Haruka informed her. Her eyes turned to Ami and Luna. "And do we _still_ not have the slightest idea as to why that would be happening?" Both of them shook their heads. "That's about what I figured."

There was a thump and a crash from the kitchen, followed closely by an explosive, "DAMN IT!"

Michiru winced and hurried back down the stairs, with Ami and Luna close behind. Haruka scrambled to get out of their way and then shook her head and raised the phone again as she followed, albeit moving more slowly than the others had.

"You should probably go back to your lunch, Usagi. I have a feeling that things are going to be a little busy around here for a while."

"Uh-huh." There was a sigh. "Just make sure you get Ami-chan and Mako-chan back to the apartment at some point, okay? It'll look kind of strange if we ask Yuuichirou-kun to drive us all the way over to your place so we can check up on Mako-chan, and I think Haruna-sensei might want to see her, too, just to make sure that she's okay."

"'Okay' probably isn't the word I'd use to describe Mako-chan right now," Haruka noted, with a glance at the kitchen. "But don't worry too much. We'll take care of things—as usual."

"In that case," Usagi said, "I'll be sure to keep my eyes and ears open for the explosions."

"And who says we haven't taught you anything?"

It had been a very quiet day for Setsuna—literally, as well as metaphorically. The depressing weather cut the usual flow of customer traffic to the point where Setsuna could have counted the number of actual entries into the store on the fingers of one hand, and of those, only one had actually bought anything. The weather had also had its impact on her employers; Hanna had been uncharacteristically subdued all day, and Annah—laboring under a massive case of the blahs, or so her sister had informed the employees—hadn't come in at all. Guomo had gone in search of quieter day-to-day employment last week, and since his replacement—a sweet university freshman named Megumi—wasn't scheduled to begin until Friday, that left Setsuna alone with Hanna and Ifumi for most of the day.

"It happens now and then," Hanna had said, as—at Setsuna's suggestion— the three of them sat down to lunch in the food court, within easy view of the shop in case the unlikely happened and another customer appeared. "Every so often, usually when you're not expecting it, one of these slow days comes along, and everything just stops. Having said that," she added, with a glance at one of the skylights overhead and the gloomy clouds above it, "this particular slowdown wasn't quite as unexpected as some of them."

Things picked up a little in the afternoon, though. Right around two, at the sounds of familiar voices and a familiar pulse from the strange otherspace where the Garnet Orb waited while she wasn't using it, Setsuna looked up from a series of adjustments she was making to a pale green dress and saw Usagi and several of the others out in the store. There was a slightly older woman with them whom Setsuna didn't recognize, but who wore an expression of familiar bemusement at finding herself in—and very much enjoying—the company of her juniors. And, as she had known from the pulse, Ryo was also present, looking a bit incomplete and perhaps even uncomfortable without Ami.

Smiling to herself, Setsuna made a mental note to mention that to Ami the next time she saw her, and then got up and went out to greet them.

"There you are," Usagi said. "Are they still forcing you to endure endless screaming matches while they work you to exhaustion in this sweatshop?" She said it loud enough to be overheard by Hanna, who was over behind the cash register in her half of the store, going over the books.

"Annah and I don't scream at each other, Usagi-chan," Hanna replied, without looking up, "we shout. And I take offense at the term 'sweatshop;' the room in the back has excellent air conditioning."

"I stand corrected," Usagi apologized with a bow. "And I suppose if I mention 'the rat race,' you'll tell me there aren't any rats on the premises, either?"

"No," Hanna agreed, "there aren't any rats—but there is _one_ furry little long-eared annoyance we have to worry about from time to time." She looked up, smiling, and nodded to those of Usagi's friends she knew, these being everyone except Haruna and Arthur. While the others nodded back—and Yuuichirou hastened to explain to Rei that he knew Hanna because he shopped here every so often—Usagi got on with the introductions.

"Hanna, Setsuna," Usagi said, "this is Sakurada Haruna. Haruna-sensei, these are Sousei Hanna and Meiou Setsuna."

"Pleased to meet you," Haruna said.

"Likewise," Setsuna replied, smiling again. "Usagi-chan's mentioned you a number of times."

"I can imagine."

"'Sensei,'" Hanna repeated curiously, although not as a question. "Interesting. I would have expected the strain of teaching Usagi-chan and Mina-chan to give anybody who tried it white hairs."

"Oh, you don't have to be teaching for that to happen," Arthur put in lightly, looking away from Minako as he spoke. He made no additional sound, but he did stand up very straight as Minako promptly stepped on his foot.

"Arthur Knight," Usagi and Minako said together, in the same dry, flat tone of voice. Hanna smiled and turned to Minako.

"Enthusiasm is all well and good, Mina-chan, but you have to be a _little_ more gentle with men. Otherwise, they tend to run away."

"Not much chance of that," Minako said with a brilliant smile. "He's visiting from England—indefinitely." Arthur sighed, shifting his trapped arm slightly, and Hanna smiled again.

"So, what brings you all here on this most wonderful"—her tone and her smile turned a bit crooked—"of afternoons?"

"We've got a customer for you," Usagi said. "Haruna-sensei needs a dress."

"That would be for the funeral," Hanna guessed. "The one that'll be taking place after your mother sees your grades?" Usagi gave her a dark look.

"Good guess," Rei complimented the saleswoman, getting a look of her own, "but not quite the right one. As it happens, Usagi somehow managed to score well on her exams this semester—_unusually_ well, if you take my meaning."

"Oh," Hanna said. "You're hoping that official testimony will help convince Ikuko-chan that you did well, is that it? So helping your teacher get a new dress is a _bribe,_ then—all right, now I understand." Seeing that Setsuna had already gone to get her things, Hanna gathered up Haruna and moved her towards the selection of dresses in her sister's side of the shop. Halfway there, she said, "I see you've been snared in the Tsukino web as well."

"The what?" Haruna asked.

"That's what my sister and I called it when we went to school with Usagi-chan's mother. There's something about the two of them—and the little one, ChibiUsa, as well—that makes it nearly impossible to refuse them something once you've let yourself go and be their friend. You can evade the subject; you can argue with them; you can get all worked up into a holy fury about it; and they'll just go 'Oh, but' and flash those huge eyes and sweet smile at you, and you've lost. Am I close?"

"Fairly," Haruna admitted, blushing. "When they found me at school today, Minako insisted that they take me out to lunch, and Usagi was right with her the entire way. I let it slip that I have a date this weekend, and Usagi immediately started talking about this place." She shook her head. "I know they didn't expect to see me today, but I still can't shake the feeling that Usagi and Minako somehow had this entire afternoon planned out between them before they ever got to the school."

"They're quite a pair," Hanna agreed as they reached the dresses. "Now, let's see..." She glanced at Haruna, then at the dresses, and then over at Setsuna, who was returning with a measuring tape in one hand and a bag of assorted tools of the tailoring trade in the other. "What do you think, Setsuna? One of the green evening gowns?"

Setsuna also looked at Haruna for a moment, and then nodded. "That might work," she agreed. "Or maybe a cocktail dress."

Over the next half hour, Haruna found herself being ushered repeatedly back and forth between the changing rooms and the front of the store. Each time she came out, the small crowd would offer their expert critiques, after which Hanna and Setsuna would set to work, taking measurements and considering alterations. Ryo disappeared at some point between the second and third dress to make a phone call, and Yuuichirou was very careful to keep his attention and appraisal of each new outfit as neutral as possible. Arthur, however, more than made up for the overall lack of input from the other two guys. Minako would consider one aspect of the dress and offer her opinion on it, speaking as ever in her capacity as the 'Love Goddess extraordinaire,' and then she would immediately turn and ask Arthur for the correlating consideration from the guy's perspective—and get it.

"Very nice," was Minako's response to the first dress, "but just a bit formal, I think. Too much skirt, and too complex a top. This is supposed to be a date-dress, not a ballroom gown. Arthur?"

"It looks good," he replied, "but you're right about the formal part. It might scare the guy and do more harm than good."

"I don't know," Minako said, frowning as Haruna came out in the second dress. "It looked good on the rack, but it seems a little too understated now that she's actually wearing it. You could wear it to a family reunion, but on a date? No, I don't think it'd work. Arthur?"

"It _is_ a bit on the domestic side," he agreed. "It doesn't really try to take advantage of her legs like it should."

"Ack!" Minako choked, waving her hands as Haruna appeared in the third dress. "Oh, this won't do at all! She's a woman, not a sack of potatoes! We want to _use_ her shape, not blot it out! Who designed this travesty?"

Arthur wisely said nothing to interrupt Minako, but merely shook his head.

On the fourth dress, Minako pursed her lips. "I think you might want to save that one until you know this guy a little better, Haruna-sensei. It makes very good use of your figure, but it hints at just a _little_ too much for a first date."

"Oh, I don't know," Arthur said, grinning. "_I_ sort of like it."

"You just be quiet," Minako said, brandishing a warning finger at him.

As odd as it was to have a couple of her students and a bunch of their friends helping to select this dress, Haruna couldn't deny that she was having more fun than she would have thought possible on this wet, ugly day.

Finally, after two cocktail dresses, three evening gowns, and that one disastrous piece of work which Minako refused to dignify with the name 'dress,' a suitable outfit was found. Hanna and Setsuna took a final series of measurements and informed Haruna that the necessary adjustments would be finished by Wednesday.

"And now that that's done," Hanna said, while Haruna was changing back, "you might as well go home with your friends, Setsuna. I think this is about all the business we're going to do today, so I'm just going to close up the shop and head home before the weather decides to get any worse."

"You're sure?"

"What? Do you _want_ to stay? Go on, take advantage of my generous mood while it lasts. You too, Ifumi. Go see if that cute young man in the computer store has a break coming or something." Ifumi cast a quick glance to the store across the hall and blushed, and Hanna, chuckling to herself, went over to get the dress from Haruna.

"Are you going to go talk to him?" Setsuna asked her co-worker.

"Well... I don't know," Ifumi replied, brushing nervously at her short brown hair with one hand and taking another fast, blushing look at the young man in question. Setsuna considered the situation for a moment and then shrugged mentally; why not?

"Do you believe in fortune-telling, Ifumi?"

"What? Um... well, sort of... I suppose..."

"That'll do. Let me see your hand for a moment." Setsuna pretended to make a show of studying the girl's palm when in fact her eyes were searching through several thousand or so different lines of soft green probability. Setsuna hadn't used her time-sight for a while, but as she had noticed, it seemed to go faster and easier with each attempt. She focused on points of the lines that represented six months from now, and then six months after that; then she let the vision go and folded Ifumi's fingers closed. "Go talk to him."

Ifumi blinked. "But... I don't... are you certain?"

"Nothing's ever entirely _certain,_" Setsuna replied calmly, "but I think it's very _likely_ that you'll enjoy where talking to him will eventually take you." She looked up, smiled mysteriously, and winked. Ifumi blinked again and blushed even more, then smiled back at Setsuna, took a deep breath, and strode across the hall. Minako, who had been watching the whole thing, came over a moment later.

"Meddling with the lives of lesser mortals, Setsuna?"

"If you want to think of it that way. If I have to have this ability, then I don't see why I shouldn't use it to nudge people towards a little happiness every now and then."

Minako grinned. "Me neither." She looked over at Ifumi and the dark-haired young man—who seemed to be explaining something about one of the computers on sale in the store—and her blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her left eyebrow went up a moment later, and she smiled a satisfied sort of smile. "Not bad, Setsuna. There's some real potential with those two. I may just be able to make a Love Goddess out of you after all."

"I appreciate that, Mina-chan."

"What _did_ you see, anyway?" Minako asked with a certain professional curiosity.

"In somewhat more than eighty percent of all the possible futures I saw leading off from the point where Ifumi went over to talk, she and that young man are dating—with various degrees of seriousness—within the next six months. And the same in about sixty-five percent of the possibilities where she didn't go over to talk today."

"Eighty and sixty-five are pretty solid numbers," Minako noted, nodding slowly. "Sounds to me like it's something that was going to happen anyway."

"I sort of thought so myself. Excuse me a moment." She went and fetched the rest of her things from the workroom.

"All set?" Usagi asked when Setsuna returned. "Okay, then. Ryo-kun just talked to Ami-chan, and she said that Mako-chan's up and around again. And a little cranky, for some reason, but we'll stop by to see them first anyway."

"And then we take _you_ home to face the music," Rei added, "and to see if your mother will believe that you got a ninety-plus on a test that didn't have the slightest thing to do with food."

The two of them started bickering immediately, but the others, with long-practiced skill, just guided them out of the store and down the hall to the escalators.

None of them, not even Rei or Setsuna or Ryo, noticed the slender, almost ghostly pale blonde girl who had been watching them from down the hall. She followed them a short distance and then stood silently at the edge of the balcony of this level of the mall, looking down to the main floor as the group headed out into the murky afternoon. She stayed there for a time after they had gone, lost in thought, and then she went in search of a phone.

When they reached Makoto's apartment and were let in by a worried-looking Ami, the Senshi and their companions found that Haruka, Michiru, ChibiUsa, and Hotaru were there ahead of them. Ryo had passed this on as well, quietly informing Usagi that Michiru and Hotaru had apparently both been very serious about making sure Makoto wasn't going to start spontaneously giving off electromagnetic pulses or something similarly inconvenient. This only made sense; consideration for others was second nature to Michiru, and Hotaru had an almost compulsive need to 'make things better,' so their presence wasn't really that much of a surprise. For the purposes of this situation, Haruka and ChibiUsa were essentially footnotes to the other two Senshi, and Luna was hardly an afterthought by comparison.

The presence of Ami's mother, on the other hand, really startled the new arrivals. Ryo stood up so straight when he saw her that he seemed to gain about three inches of height in the process; obviously, this was one more item for the list of Things That He Didn't See Coming.

"Um," Usagi said, looking around at the living room. Michiru, Hotaru, ChibiUsa, and Ami's mother were all sitting relatively at ease and taking tea together; Makoto and Haruka were also sitting and drinking tea, but they weren't nearly so casual about it. Makoto's discomfort had an obvious source, since she was bundled up in a veritable cocoon of blankets and pillows, with Luna resting comfortably on her lap; whatever was bothering Haruka was a little harder to guess at, but the cause of Ami's worried look was very easy to figure out, since Calypso was clearly hidden _somewhere_ in this room. None of this, though, was what had sparked Usagi's lapse into sound effects.

There were six people, one cat, and likely one concealed Nereid sitting down to tea in Makoto's living room; nine _more_ people had just come in from the front door; and the apartment, which quite frankly had not been built to accommodate this many visitors at one time, was well on its way to feeling like the proverbial can of sardines.

"I'd offer you all a place to sit," Makoto said, "but as you can see"—she gestured around—"we're a bit short on space."

"Girls," Mrs. Mizuno said, nodding. "Sakurada-san, Kumada-san; it's good to see you again. And you, Meiou-san; I hope there haven't been any relapses? Headaches, dizziness, anything like that?"

"No, Mizuno-san. I've been well. Thank you for asking." Ami's mother nodded, glanced past the others to her daughter and Ryo with a knowing expression that set both of them blushing furiously, and then turned wordlessly to Minako and Arthur. That started the introductions, during the course of which Haruka rather quickly agreed to give up her seat to Usagi and then disappeared into the kitchen, mumbling something about tea. Makoto also offered to give up her place, only to be firmly told by about six different people to stay where she was.

Somehow, they managed to find enough space. Hotaru hopped up on Michiru's lap to make room for Setsuna on the couch, and Haruna sat down next to Ami's mother, while most of the rest of them chose a comfortable piece of wall or couch—or, in Minako's case, a pseudo-boyfriend—to lean against.

"I've seen your work," Haruna was saying to Michiru. "I'm not much of an art critic, but I have to say, you've done some amazing works." She blushed a bit. "You must hear that all the time."

"Not as often as you might think," Michiru replied, smiling. "And even if I did, it's still very kind of you to say so. Which was your favorite?"

"There was one of a beach," Haruna said after a moment's thought. "It was either sunrise or sunset, and there was a woman in a white dress standing in the surf, watching the sun. It was hard to tell whether she was happy or sad."

Hotaru frowned. "I don't think you ever showed me that one, Michiru-mama."

"It's called 'Unknown Waters,'" Michiru said with a small sigh, hugging Hotaru a little closer. "I painted it... it must be three, almost four years ago, now." She smiled. "'Unknown' didn't do quite as well with the critics as some of my other pieces; a lot of the reviewers said she made them feel sad and even somewhat lost, and those aren't the sorts of feelings I normally try for. Still, I was feeling a little lost myself while I was painting her, so I suppose it only makes sense that something of that carried over."

"I don't know about 'depressing,'" Haruna said. "I always thought that she'd just had one of those _really_ bad days—you know, the sort of day that makes an absolute mess of things and forces you to rearrange large parts of your life." Her smile was wry. "I've had a few days like that myself, so I suppose you could say I understood where she was coming from."

"Art is a subjective thing at the best of times," Ami's mother said in a clinical tone, taking a sip of her tea. "People see what they want to see, regardless of what the artist tries to put in. I prefer realism, myself."

"Isn't reality just as subjective, though?" Michiru asked. "Don't we see in the world around us what we _choose_ to see?"

"Perhaps we do at that, but there are certain constants that hold true whether or not we choose to see them. I wouldn't be a doctor if they didn't."

"And I wouldn't be able to paint if there weren't other things there as well—the sort of things that exist only as long as we choose to see them and let them exist." Ami was starting to look very concerned about the direction this conversation was heading, but her mother just laughed softly.

"Oh no," she said. "I'm not about to get into _this_ argument again. When I look at a painting, I want to see defined shapes and colors; I don't go looking for abstract or emotive concepts. Why don't we just leave it at that?"

"Oh, if we must." Michiru smiled and looked around; with the exception of Ami, Luna, and Haruna, it was pretty obvious that the two of them had lost everybody else in the room during the course of that discussion. Even Setsuna was looking mildly confused. "So," Michiru said, turning back to Haruna with a mischievous light in her eyes, "would today qualify as one of those very bad days you mentioned?"

"Hey!"

"If I'd had to answer that this morning," Haruna replied, deliberately not looking at Usagi, "I would have said yes. It's been a good afternoon, though—so no, this isn't one of those bad days."

Mrs. Mizuno looked at the younger woman and then around at the others. "What exactly _have_ you girls been up to that would require the presence of a teacher? _After_ school has been let out?"

"I think Usagi's ultimate plan is to use Haruna-san as a human shield against her mother," Rei said.

Ami frowned. "I thought you said she actually did well this time, Ryo- kun."

"Hey!"

"She did," Ryo replied. "That's the problem." Usagi stared at him and then settled into a sullen pout.

"There's just no pleasing you people, you know that? I do bad, and you're all on my case; I do good, and I get snide remarks. This isn't helping to boost my academic self-confidence!" She sat there for a moment, glaring at them, and then looked over at Makoto. "Mako-chan, do you have any strawberries in your fridge?"

There wasn't enough room for a facefault, so instead, the sudden track-jumping of Usagi's train of thought set off a lot of eyeblinks and sweatdrops.

"There's some strawberry swirl ice cream in the freezer..." Makoto said cautiously.

"Close enough." Usagi stood up and stalked into the kitchen.

"Now is that a pregnancy craving?" Ryo asked, nodding towards Usagi, "or just a regular craving?"

"With her," Rei said, "it's impossible to tell."

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Even though all the Senshi were currently in the apartment, they still automatically glanced at their communicators when they heard the sound, and then they all did their best to cover that response as Ami's mother checked her pager. Ami, seeing the faint smile on Ryo's face, nudged him warningly in the ribs with her elbow.

"May I use your phone, Mako-chan?"

"It's in the kitchen." Ami's mother nodded and left the room. When she returned a few minutes later, she was shaking her head.

"Bad news?" Makoto guessed.

"There are times when it feels like that entire hospital is being held together by chicken wire and good intentions," Mrs. Mizuno replied, still shaking her head.

"I know _that_ feeling, too," Haruna said, sharing a resigned smile with Ami's mother before the older woman went out to the closet to get her coat.

"Well, it was nice to see all of you again," Mrs. Mizuno said as she collected her things. "Kaioh-san, I'm glad I got to meet you. And you too, Hotaru-chan," she added with a smile. Hotaru beamed and waved good-bye. "Ami, I'll call tonight at about eight—unless of course, you had other plans?" She looked very directly at Ryo, and both he and Ami blushed.

"No, Mother."

Mrs. Mizuno sighed again. "Mina-chan, do me a favor and try to talk some sense into them, would you?"

Minako grinned. "Consider it done."

Ignoring her daughter's expression, Mrs. Mizuno nodded and turned to the kitchen. "Tennou-san."

"Ma'am," Haruka replied, nodding somewhat awkwardly and then letting out a small sigh of relief as Ami's mother left, and the conversation in the living room gradually switched over to a discussion of grades.

"Is it just me," Usagi said from behind her, scaring Haruka half out of her skin, "or have you and Mizuno-san met before?"

"What..." Haruka caught herself and shook her head. "Just go eat your ice cream, koneko."

"Not until you explain to me why you were avoiding her," Usagi said, absently gulping down a spoonful of strawberry swirl.

"I wasn't avoid... oh, fine." Haruka knew better by now than to try and deny her way out of something around Usagi. "Yes, I have met her before. I took a spill on my bike a few years back and busted my collarbone, and Mizuno-san was the attending physician at the hospital. I didn't really pay that much attention to her at the time, and it was before I'd met any of you, so I had no idea she was even related to Ami until she walked in the door today."

"And?" Usagi pressed.

"And it was embarrassing as hell, because it wouldn't have happened if I'd been paying attention to what I was doing. Now can we just drop the whole subject?"

Usagi got the distinct impression that there was a lot more here than a case of wounded pride, but she decided to let it go. For now.

Proteus observed closely as the body of its captive daimon disintegrated into a colorless, odorless dust, leaving a smoky plume of something black and cold to swirl around inside the liquid of the pod that had been holding the creature. Whatever the blackness was, it teemed with the creature's version of life-force, and it passed through the viscous fluid and the multiple membranes of the containment pod as if it were not even there.

Killing this particular specimen had been a reluctant move on Proteus's part, but quite probably a necessary one. Even after being fully contained, the small daimon had continued to struggle for freedom, completely ignoring the influx of chemical compounds that would have been enough to stun a fair-sized elephant into the same stasis in which Proteus's small onboard collection of humans currently dozed. Most of Proteus's attempts to examine the vicious little monster had failed as well, the various restraints and probes being torn apart or simply proving ineffective against the daimon's supernatural physiology, and there had been the strong possibility that the Senshi would have tracked the creature down. They seemed to be quite good at that, which made Proteus's keeping the daimon much akin to having a large red bull's-eye painted on its body.

It had learned a few things of use, however. The daimon's body, for instance, was not the reality of the thing; it was a shell, an assumed form which allowed the creature to interact with the physical substance of this world. The energy, the black vapor released in the moment of 'death,' _that_ was the daimon, and Proteus suspected very strongly that it was still alive, that the destruction of its false form had broken whatever bonds were holding the being here and allowed it to return to wherever it had originated. Such reasoning was based partly on its awkward analysis of the daimon, and partly on what Proteus had been able to learn from spying on Archon and his apprentice as they discussed various aspects of magic.

With the daimon gone, Proteus began to reabsorb the empty pod and then considered its current situation. It had access to almost twenty human specimens now, three of them already fully reengineered, and two of those—Tetsuo and Hana—still awaiting testing. The process of infection at the hospital was proceeding more or less on schedule, although Proteus was beginning to despair of ever getting control of the staff of the floor where its devices had been established; they moved around too much, leaving the area where spore density was at its optimum level and giving their immune systems time to fight off the infection. Some of the patients had been moved as well, and even the most advanced of these cases were likely to prove irretrievable, but these setbacks still left some two dozen humans nearing the end phase of the infection cycle.

It was time—and long past time—to test Tetsuo and Hana. Regardless of the number of subjects obtained, future experimentation would not be possible until these two designs had been fully evaluated, their strengths and weaknesses determined, enhancements designed, and any unplanned developments accounted for. A test was required; this just left the question of where and when to conduct it.

*How to get the attention of the Senshi,* Proteus thought, *without attracting notice from the Atlanteans?*

It went without saying that Archon's apprentice must be avoided. Proteus had a small contingent of its rat-spies keeping track of the girl's movements— from a very respectful distance—so that should not pose much of a problem. It would also be necessary to avoid touching off a media uproar, as had happened with the last Atlantean mission, and it would have to be done without developing a large support structure. Proteus still keenly remembered the near-total annihilation of its citywide network, and had no wish to risk a repeat of that mysterious mass destruction.

After considering the problem for a time, Proteus's thick, centipede-like body hunched up in what might have been a shrug and then began to move out, surrounded by a protective screen of several hundred rats as it trundled towards its destination.

*When in doubt, stick with what you know.*

Usagi and her 'entourage' had stayed at Makoto's apartment for the better part of half an hour before Minako had finally suggested that they leave and allow Mako-chan to get back to her convalescence. Those weren't the exact words she had used, of course, and it had been her unexpected mention of a convent which had convinced the others it was probably time to get going. They'd traded Ryo for ChibiUsa and Luna, said their good-byes, and left; that had been about fifteen minutes ago, which meant that by now, they were at the Tsukino household.

"Do you suppose it's going well?" Ryo asked. He was sitting next to Ami on the one couch, and Calypso was seated on the air off to her sister's right, frowning as she read one of the books they had purchased at the mall on Friday. In her human form, Calypso appeared to be one of those people who trace each line with one finger as they read; none of the others really thought to ask if that was in fact the case, or if it was just a mannerism she'd picked up somewhere, like the thin-rimmed reading glasses she had created for herself.

"You're the almighty seer," Haruka quipped. "You tell us."

"I was under the impression that you can see things, too."

Haruka chuckled at that. "Only if I'm _really_ drunk—or suffering from a concussion, or outright unconscious." She paused to take a drink of her tea. "Seriously, though, I get premonitions from time to time, and I usually know when things are going wrong right _now,_ but the whole psychic hotline has always been more Michiru's area of expertise. I think it has something to do with the way her perception of reality is naturally different, whereas _I'm_ one of those people who usually has to be impaired in some fashion in order to start thinking and seeing outside the box."

Still holding Hotaru—who appeared to have taken advantage of this prime opportunity for a nap—Michiru gave her partner a long, flat look, obviously debating whether or not that last remark had earned Haruka another shot to the arm.

"What?" Haruka asked ingenuously. "It's the truth."

"Don't push your luck," Michiru said bluntly. Haruka's answering expression was all wounded innocence, and over in her chair, Makoto started to laugh. Michiru gave her a look, too, but Makoto just laughed harder.

"What's it like?" Ryo asked, ignoring the laughter and hard looks. "I mean, I _know_ what my visions are like, and I've heard Ami-chan and the others talking about Rei-san's fire readings often enough to have a pretty good idea of what she must go through, but I don't think I've ever heard a description of your particular... um... talent."

With one last warning look at Haruka and Makoto, Michiru turned to Ryo and began to answer his question. "If you have an idea of how Rei calls up her visions, what I do is almost the opposite. I hear things more than I see them— or perhaps 'feel' is a better term for it—and I always learn the most when I'm relaxed. The less I _try_ to find something, the more easily it comes to me. Dreams can be especially informative. At the same time, though, where Rei can focus her effort and attention on one specific target at a time, I tend to gain awareness of a lot of things at once. It's like rain falling into a lake; each individual raindrop creates its own sound and ripple, but they all meld together and lose their details. Only the larger raindrops—the more important or dangerous events—send out ripples strong enough for me to interpret properly."

"And the Mirror?"

"It's very much the same, except that the Mirror is able to detect and discern between a far greater number of event-ripples than I can. The problem is that the Mirror doesn't ignore anything, and whenever I ask it a question, it draws on _everything_ it can detect to provide an answer. That's why so many of the images it returns are vague and difficult to understand."

"Have you ever been able to _not_ hear things?" Ryo's tone was casual, but Ami, Calypso, and Makoto all looked at him, picking up on a distinct lack of 'casual' in his thoughts and feelings.

"Quite frequently," Michiru was saying, nodding slightly. "I've found that the more I focus on something—anything—the less likely I am to pick up on the noise all those events make, and when I paint or play my violin, I can shut it out entirely." She looked more directly at Ryo then, her head tilted slightly and her eyes speculative. "It's important to you to hear this, isn't it?"

Ryo frowned and then followed the brief shift of Michiru's line of sight to Ami, Calypso, and Makoto, who were all still watching him. He blushed and coughed. "Um... yeah. Important."

"What it's like when you see something?" Ryo blinked at the question, and Michiru smiled faintly. "I'm allowed to be curious, too, aren't I? I don't have much more idea of what you go through than you had of what I do."

"Oh. Well, I suppose fair is fair." Fair or not, it took him several moments to begin talking, and even then he sounded reluctant to speak. "There's always a kind of empty rushing noise, sort of like what I'd expect an echo of an underground river to sound like, right before a vision starts. It doesn't get louder or softer, and it doesn't really go away; it's more like it rises out beyond the range of hearing when the images come. If I want to try and force a vision, I start by focusing on that noise, and trying to recreate it inside my head."

"And you never have any idea when it'll start?" Michiru asked. "Or what you'll see?"

"No, and only very seldomly. When I try to force them, about one in every three or four visions seems to relate to whatever I'm concentrating on, and even then they can range from minutes to months into the future. When they come at random..." Ryo shrugged. "Before that time-trip we took, I didn't have the slightest clue what caused the visions to go off like that, but after Setsuna explained about the auras she saw around Rei-san and I, and about the time-energy she saw floating around everywhere, I started thinking, and talked it over with Ami-chan for a while."

"We concluded that Setsuna's theory was probably correct," Ami said, "and that most of Ryo-kun's random visions must have occurred when he moved into the presence of a large amount of temporal energy. The stronger the energy, the stronger the resulting vision, and the longer he remained in contact with the energy, the longer the vision would last. I was able to set up my computer to locate pockets of time-force within a short radius, and we tested the theory a few times by walking him through. We were right."

"Sounds like getting Setsuna to teach you how to see Time like she does would be a smart move," Haruka noted.

"That would be nice," Ryo agreed. "It's probably not going to happen, though. Even Setsuna seemed to need the Garnet Orb to do it, and somehow I don't think she could loan it out to me. I'd settle just for knowing how to get rid of the headaches." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"Do you always get them?" Michiru asked.

"There's always a little disorientation," Ryo replied. "I mean, one second I'll just be walking down the street, and then my eyes are full of someplace else, and then in the next moment, everything comes back. That can get really confusing at times, and the clearer the vision is or the further into the future it lets me see, the more drained I am afterwards—but I only feel _real_ pain when the images are bad."

"And of course," Haruka added, "you're not above hamming it up for sympathy points the rest of the time."

"Not in the slightest," Ryo agreed, without a trace of shame. "After all, it's for a good... cause..." He broke off there and closed his eyes in a pained expression. "And then," he added a moment later, "there are the all the times when the pain is genuine to help keep me honest. There's ice in your freezer, right, Mako-chan?"

"Of course. I'll..."

"You'll just sit there," Calypso said, putting her book aside and letting her glasses dematerialize. "I can handle this." She floated around behind the couch and reached towards Ryo, a small bag taking shape in her hand.

"Uh, thanks, Calypso," Ryo said quickly, moving to stand. "But I can make do with..."

"You just sit down, too." Caly caught him by one shoulder and pushed him back down with startling ease, making him lean back so she could put the icepack on his forehead. Ryo could almost feel the amusement of the girls, and he really _could_ feel Ami's.

"Nobody laugh," he said, raising one hand warningly. "She could do it to you, too."

"But she wouldn't," Ami said. "Isn't that right, Caly?"

"Entirely," the Nereid agreed.

Ryo sighed wearily. "And why is that?"

"Because it's more _fun_ to do it to you," the sisters said in unison. Makoto immediately started sputtering again, and Haruka threw back her head and laughed. Michiru held herself to a small smile and a slight shake of her head.

"Mmmm... what's all the noise about?" Hotaru yawned, raising her head from Michiru's shoulder and looking around with sleepy eyes. She blinked when she saw Calypso pressing the ice to Ryo's head. "Why are you doing that, Caly?"

"Ryo-kun has a headache," Calypso replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." Hotaru looked at Ryo. "I could take care of that..."

"That's okay," Haruka said, grinning. "I think Calypso has everything well in hand.�

Gradually, Makoto managed to stop laughing. "So, Ryo; what did you see this time?"

"Mars," he said. "She was throwing fire at a person—I think it was a man—in some extremely expensive-looking armor. From the looks of the scenery, they'd already been fighting for a while, and I think there was something wrong with Mars's leg." Ryo frowned, closing his eyes under the rim of the bag of ice as he recalled the image. "Her opponent didn't say anything, but his breastplate had that silver circle-symbol on it."

"Another Atlantean, then," Michiru said, a little needlessly. "Can you get any idea of his powers just from the vision?"

"He's not actually _doing_ anything like that," Ryo reported, "but he does have a sword, and _it_ has a sort of red glow along the edge, which probably isn't good news. He also looks plenty big enough to do a lot of damage the old- fashioned way, although that might just be the armor. It's a pretty extensive suit, and it's almost entirely red and gold, with a helmet that looks like a dragon's head. That suggests fire, to me, but then again, I have a history of misreading things that I don't actually see."

"You said there were signs of a drawn-out fight?" Michiru asked.

"They're on top of a parking garage, and there are scorch marks all over the cement. I saw a few holes, too, and one or two things that might have been cars at some point."

"Rei-chan is always fairly careful about how she uses her powers," Ami remarked. "A lot of collateral damage by fire would most likely come from the other side. Unless she got mad, of course."

"We should probably see if Luna or Artemis can teach Rei-chan anything that might be useful for that fight," Makoto said. "How to melt metal, or something like that." She paused. "When _is_ the next training session, anyway?"

"Tomorrow night," Ami replied. "And before you ask, yes, we're going to let you attend. Luna and I dug up a lot of exercises designed to help you hone your control of the Aegis, and I'm sure we'd all feel a lot better if you were practicing under one of Hotaru-chan's Shields rather than somewhere unprotected. Just in case."

"That reminds me," Ryo said, sitting up for all of an inch before Calypso caught him and held him, making an irritated little sound in her throat as he tried to push the ice away. "It's not that bad, Calypso."

"Don't make me put you to sleep again," she countered. Ryo was silent for a time, but Calypso's little smile said enough for both of them, and she settled the icepack into place again.

"Hotaru-chan," Ryo asked, a little shortly, "are you afraid of bats?"

"Not really," Hotaru said, blinking. "Why do you ask?"

Since Hotaru had been napping the first time, Ryo quickly explained his and Ami's theory about the trigger-mechanism for his visions, and the experiment they'd tried.

"And one of the visions I had showed a bat with a wingspan equal to about twice your height flying at you," he continued. "I'm pretty sure normal bats don't get that large, but I'm not entirely sure if it was a monster; the vision didn't have quite the same feeling to it as most of the ones I've had with monsters in them, and I couldn't see your face to get an idea of your reaction to it."

"Are there any other interesting details of this experiment that you'd like to share with us?" Haruka asked.

"No, that was it. Most of the other visions I had were of things that happened within about ten minutes, at the most. The only other long-term vision besides the one of Hotaru-chan and the bat was of a minor car accident downtown." Ryo shifted, and the ice clicked and sloshed.

"Stop that," Calypso admonished.

"Calypso," Ryo said with an exasperated sigh, "I'm fine. Really. My headache's gone."

"Really?" she asked, drawing the word out suspiciously.

"Really."

"Okay." Just like that, the icepack was gone, collapsed into blue mist and reabsorbed into Calypso's body. Smiling brightly, she leaned over to look Ryo in the face, upside-down. "All you had to do was ask." She patted him on the cheek and then floated back over to her place beyond Ami, retrieving her book and recreating the glasses as she settled down into her reading once more.

After staring grimly at the Nereid for a time, Ryo glanced at Ami—who smiled and shrugged—and then Makoto, who shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"I heard that," Calypso said, not looking up from her book. Ryo blinked, then looked at Ami again.

"She wasn't scanning you," Ami replied, speaking to the question that had appeared through the mindbond, "but anybody with eyes could have read your expression and made a pretty good guess as to what you were thinking. When you project like that, it's hard not to notice, especially at this range."

"Oh." Ryo frowned, then turned to Calypso. "Sorry, Caly. I'll try to be... um... quieter?... in the future."

"There's no need for that," the Nereid said, raising her eyes from her reading. "It's not like hearing your thoughts _hurts_ me; I'm _supposed_ to communicate like that, and since you can't 'accidentally' broadcast things you'd prefer to keep private, there's no harm in me picking up the occasional errant thought, is there?"

"Well... ah... I suppose not..."

"It's still creepy," Haruka muttered. "I prefer to give people a piece of my mind the old-fashioned way."

"You always did," Calypso said. "As a race, I think the Venusians were really the only humans who never had a problem with being around telepaths—but then, they were so open about everything anyway that it didn't really matter whether you scanned their minds or just talked to them."

"It probably had something to do with fear," Ami said. "Or rather, the lack of it. There were all sorts of things other people worried about that didn't bother the Venusians at all, and a lot of the fear value goes out of the idea of mind-reading when you don't have anything to hide or be ashamed of—and when you know you can trust the person doing the scanning, that deals with whatever fear may be left over."

"And if you _don't_ know OR trust the telepath?" Haruka countered.

"Then it would be another story," Calypso agreed. "I have a bit of a bias in this regard, but even _I_ can understand that sharing thoughts is much more comfortable with someone you know than with someone you don't—but since you know and trust me, that's not the case. And you _do_ trust me, don't you, Haruka?" She asked that with a little moue and eyes that were suddenly large behind the glasses.

Haruka's features scrunched up into a look of reluctance. "Yes," she finally admitted, "I suppose I do trust you"—Calypso broke into a terrific smile—"but only as far as I know you."

If anything, that little add-on only made Calypso smile even more. For some reason, Haruka suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck trying to rise.

"Enter."

The door of the royal chambers slid silently open, and Archon entered. "Your Highness," he began, "I have completed..." The archmage stopped and looked around at the empty foyer and the adjoining chambers. "Highness?"

"We'll be with you in a moment, Archon," Janus' voice said, coming from the direction of the bath. "Continue your report."

"As you say, my Lord." He was alone in the room, but out of a lifetime's worth of habit, the wizard nodded his head respectfully anyway. "I have completed the full range of tests that our current circumstances allow. So far as I can determine, there is no way for us to disable the shield at this time."

"Is it impervious to our capabilities, or is it just that we don't have the necessary power reserves to make a serious attempt?"

"The latter, Highness, though I suspect the shield will prove quite resilient, should we ever seek to neutralize it."

Janus didn't miss the tone in the wizard's words. "You don't think we should bother with it?"

"No, my Prince. I had several units teleported to various locations within the city an hour ago, with orders to do nothing but wait and report at regular intervals. As of yet, nothing has interrupted those reports."

"So this shield doesn't detect or interfere with teleportation?" Jenna asked.

"More precisely, my Lady, I suspect it was set only to react to objects which cross _through_ the barrier's sphere of effect, instead of those that move _within_ it. I've chosen to hold off testing whether or not the barrier will react to dimensional spells until the next operation: if it does, the arrival of another contingent of daimons would provide a useful distraction; and if it doesn't, we may be able to spring a surprise attack when the Senshi appear to destroy the nexi. Does this meet with your approval?"

"Yes," Janus replied, stepping into view wearing an elegant golden robe. The robe was long enough and heavy enough to hide most of the evidence to the fact that the unnatural dichotomy of the Imperial person was not limited to the face. "We've suffered too many setbacks and delays these last two months," the Crown Prince continued. "This next mission will likely be our only chance to make up for our losses, particularly in light of all the effort that's going into it. If it fails..."

"It will be another ten days before our forces are fully prepared, Highness," Archon reminded them. "If you wish to revise or abandon the plan, there is still ample time to do so."

"No," Jenna replied firmly. "There's no point in second-guessing ourselves, and abandoning our efforts at this stage would cripple us. We'll proceed as planned—but if you have any additional suggestions to make, by all means, make them."

"There _is_ one detail that requires consideration, my Lady. You may recall the reports of increasing activity along the perimeter over the last two weeks..."

The expression of male side and female side alike twisted into grim distaste. "I take it that there have been additional sightings, then?" Janus asked.

"It goes a bit further than that, Highness," Archon said. "Four hours ago, one of the guards was... contacted. He was in the company of several of his comrades at the time, so he was restrained and brought in for study and treatment without any incident. Lady Istar conducted the examination herself and found very obvious traces of psychic tampering, but so far as she has been able to determine, it was limited entirely to a single message."

"Which was?"

"As unusual as it may sound, my Lord, it appears that they wish to speak with us. They left precise instructions on how to contact them and arrange a face-to-face meeting." There was no immediate response, but Archon waited with his usual unflappable patience.

"Laraea... was certain of this?" Jenna finally asked.

"Very certain, Princess. She described the residual energies as inviting attention, and aside from the initial shock, the guard suffered no detrimental effects. Neither is characteristic of how these creatures normally operate. Quite simply, they _wanted_ us to have that message, and to have every reason to believe it." Again, there was a long silence, and again Archon waited calmly.

"After being down here for so long without so much as a rumor of their presence, I'd almost begun to believe that the things had died off during our exile. It seems that was too much to hope for." Janus sighed. "Very well, then. See it, Archon. And put units on the security patrols to insure there aren't any further 'contacts.'"

The wizard bowed. "As you command, my Prince."

"You're _certain_ you want to risk this?" Jenna asked her brother once Archon had exited the room.

"I'm certain that if we don't play along, they'll keep at us until we do— and I for one don't want to antagonize them if it can be helped. Laraea and Lilith are our best psychics, and I'll grant you that they're both very good, but they can only do so much. We have no more than a score of mentalists to back them up, and most simply don't have the same degree of talent or training. How long do you think a defense like that would hold up under a sustained psychic assault from fifty of those creatures? A hundred?"

"What do you suppose they want?"

"No way to know until we meet them, but it could be anything—and it's most likely something unpleasant." Janus began to slowly pace about the room. "We move in ten days. If all goes well, the operation will yield enough energy to get us back on schedule—and we _can_ reshuffle that schedule to give the security systems top priority, without hampering our overall efforts. In the interim, we'll have to cut back on the restoration projects in the outlying chambers and make sure no one gets left working alone. Can we afford to pull Laraea and the other mentalists from their assignments to assist with security?"

"We can," Jenna replied. "So long as it's only for the ten days."

"Good. The guards will be on full alert after that 'message,' and Archon's artificers probably have a dozen different spells wrapped around each of their heads by now, but we'd better make sure everyone is informed. It'll ruin their night's sleep, but I think most of them would rather lose a little sleep than risk the alternative. I know I do, even _with_ our minds shielded as they are." The right side of the mouth twisted up into something that might have been a smile. "Our little parting gift from Athena. Do you suppose she saw this particular day coming, all those centuries ago?"

"She may well have," Jenna said evenly, "though I doubt it. Pluto may be the Guardian of Time, but that makes her more its servant than it does its master. You never really seemed to understand that about her."

"I wasn't the one who constantly wanted her to read my future," Janus reminded his sister.

"I grew out of it—with a little help from Athena and her mother." Jenna sighed. "I miss Lyssa almost as much as Athena, sometimes. She always seemed to know what to do—and you can't tell me you wouldn't mind having her or any of the other Senshi, past or present, as allies," she added, knowing the way her brother's thoughts would inevitably turn.

"Gods know we could certainly use Mercury right about now," Janus admitted grudgingly. "Even an ordinary Nereid would be an unmitigated blessing." His side of their face twisted into a humorless smile. "And while I'm wishing for the impossible, I guess I'll go ahead and try to summon Excalibur, the Grail, and the Phoenix Egg and all nine Shields as well." They waited expectantly, looking about the room, and finally Janus's smile shifted. "No, I didn't think so."

"One thing at a time, brother," Jenna said mildly. "Let's send that alert, and then some rest. If we're going to meet with the Deep Ones, then I for one want to get all the uninterrupted sleep I can beforehand, because I doubt we'll have much chance for it later."

The silence in the apartment was nearly total. Only a low-pitched buzzing coming from the living room broke the stillness. Every so often, the buzzing ceased with a soft 'click,' after which the faint but steady electric hum would resume. It was almost a clockwork rhythm:

Buzzzzzz—click.

Buzzzzzz—click.

Buzzzzzz—click.

Buzzzzzz—click.

Still sitting in her chair, trapped inside blankets and pillows and the constant surveillance of her so-called friends, Makoto was toying with the Aegis to amuse herself. She was repeatedly pulling one of the small electrified orbs away from the rest and then releasing it at about arm's length, at which point the two hair-thin lines of energy connecting the orb to the rest of the Aegis would whisk it back to its place in the necklace. Every once in a while, Makoto would move the orb back and forth while she held it, setting off a shifting effect where the 'buzz' would become louder or softer or slightly differently pitched depending on where she moved it:

Buzzzzzz—click.

BuuuUUUuuuUUUzzzZZZzzzZZZ—click.

BuuuUUUzzzzzz—click.

BuuuzzzZZZZZZ—click.

Buzzzzzz...

"If you're trying to annoy me to the point where I'll let you get up," Ami said calmly, "you should know it isn't going to work."

Makoto sighed and let go of the orb. Click. "I'm not trying to annoy you, Ami-chan. I just... I just need to DO something. And don't suggest that I read a book," she added. "I'm not in the mood." Ami stayed silent, and Makoto's smile was smug. Then it faded. "Can I at _least_ get up to look after my plants? The rest of you were so busy trying to take care of me that you completely neglected them."

"You don't want to trip and break one of your flowerpots, do you?" Ami countered. Makoto sighed again. "But seeing to your flowers is fine. Caly and I can bring them to you." She signaled to her sister to start moving the plants, and then headed out to the closet to get the watering can. While she was reaching for the green plastic jug, Ami noticed a bag of soil which had been stuck inside a large plastic flowerpot sitting at the bottom of the closet. The pot was two feet high and almost as wide across the top, though it narrowed to less than half of that at the bottom. Both the pot and the bag had pricetags on them, and Ami was fairly certain they hadn't been here last week.

"Mako-chan," she said, coming back into the living room with the watering can in one hand, "when did you buy that flowerpot and bag of dirt out in the closet? And what for?"

In the middle of checking the undersides of the leaves of one of the two plants Caly had already brought her, Makoto looked up, blinking. "I'd forgotten about those," she said. There was a vague, distracted note in her voice that Ami didn't like at all. "Could you bring them in after you get the water? Thanks." She went right back to her careful examination of the leaves, leaving Ami to stand there staring at her in worry. Without looking up, Makoto said, "I'm fine, Ami-chan. I just can't pay much attention to you right now. Just go and get the water, okay?" And once again, she went back to work.

Makoto spent the next twenty minutes tending to her plants. She would straighten a few stems, brush traces of dust from some of the shaggier-looking leaves, and remove any apparent dead growth, then water the plant and set it aside for the next. At one point, she sent Calypso to fetch a couple of smaller pots so she could move two of her larger plants into fresh soil; that took about a quarter of the dirt in the bag, and the rest went into the massive flowerpot, which then stood there for the next ten minutes as if forgotten. All the while, Makoto was softly humming to herself a tune that Ami didn't recognize, but which sounded like any number of childhood lullabies she could think of.

The two sisters both gave a start when they realized that the Aegis were visibly glowing again, but Makoto didn't appear to notice the soft green light, and continued on with her work. Finally, she set aside the last of the plants, turned her attention to the large pot, and took the small, heart-shaped silver acorn out of her blouse pocket. Ami wasn't really that surprised to see it. Makoto had been carrying the odd little thing around constantly since Sasanna's tree had given it to her, and there had been more than a few times—particularly during the exams—when Ami had looked up and noticed Makoto holding the acorn and looking at it intently. She was doing it again now, gazing down at the silver shape in her palm and appearing almost reluctant to plant it.

"Mako-chan? Is something wrong?"

"What happens when I plant this, Ami?" Makoto said it without looking up. "I know it'll grow—it's too full of life to do anything else—but _what_ will it grow into? Sasanna said her brother couldn't produce seeds, and she said she couldn't have children, but this _is_ a seed from that tree, and that means it's as close to being her child as makes no difference—but _what_ is it going to become? And what do we do with it if..."

"If what?" Ami asked gently.

"What if it grows into one of those giant trees the dryads lived in? And what if there's a _dryad_ in there right now, waiting to be born? She'd be just like Caly, the only one of her kind in the world, except that she'd have a huge tree to draw attention to her, in the middle of a city of millions of people who wouldn't have the slightest idea what she was. Do we have the right to do that to her?"

"Look at it this way," Ami said. "Even if none of us can say for certain what this seed is, we have to believe that Sasanna and her tree _did_ know, and that they would've told you everything _you_ needed to know when they gave it to you. Did they ask you to plant it?" She waited for Makoto's nod. "Did they tell you anything else _except_ that?" Again, Ami waited, this time for a slow shake of the head. "Then plant it, Mako-chan, and look after it just like all your other plants. Trees don't grow very fast, so you'll have a long time to get used to any special problems that come with this one. And if it _does_ grow into a dryad... well... we'll think of something," she finished, a bit lamely.

Makoto hesitated a moment more, then nodded and looked around. "I need a spade to..." She broke off as Calypso held out her hand—or more precisely, the wedge-shaped object at the end of her arm—and dug a small hole with a grand flourish and a small 'taa-daa.' While Ami sighed at her sister's antics, Makoto took one final look at the strangely-shaped acorn before setting it down in the hole and letting Caly cover it. The Nereid patted the soil down, restored her hand to normal, and made a quick flexing motion to get rid of any dirt clinging to it before reaching for the watering can. Peering down the top, Calypso frowned and shook the can, sloshing the remaining contents.

"Just enough, I suppose," she said, turning back. "Would you like to do i- YIIII!" Calypso shied away violently, nearly dropping the can as the green glow of the Aegis returned. The orbs had come away from Makoto and were orbiting in a perfect ring above her hands, which she had placed atop the soil, palms down, in an almost prayerlike fashion. She was staring down with a fixed intensity, murmuring something under her breath that even Calypso couldn't make out, as the verdant energy spread to all four corners of the room, washing over everything. When the expanding force reached Calypso, she blushed pink and began to giggle, and even Ami could feel a tingle in her skin. For a moment, she almost thought she saw some of the flowers move, straightening themselves and uncurling their petals to better receive the radiant energy.

It went on for nearly a minute, and then, with a long sigh, Makoto slumped back in her chair, her eyes closed and her head bowed. The light of the Aegis faded slowly as the orbs returned to their owner, once again arranging themselves in the shape of a pretty, unassuming necklace. Ami was right behind them, racing over from the couch to check on Makoto, and after a few final giggles, Calypso calmed down enough to look concerned.

"Is she okay, Ami?"

"Her pulse is steady," Ami said tersely, "and she's breathing normally. I think she just tired herself out." From the look on her face, Ami was fully ready to shake Makoto and shout at her for using the Aegis like that, but instead, she closed her eyes and let out a _very_ long breath. "Let's put these flowers back where they belong," she said, "and then put Mako-chan to bed."

They did that, placing the large pot over in front of the glass doors to the balcony. When they went to move Makoto, Calypso dematerialized herself, flowed into the spaces between Makoto and the blankets, and then resolidified in the form of a free-floating cushion, pushing all the blankets aside and easily lifting the sleeping girl without disturbing her in the slightest. Then, leaving the Mercury Computer on Makoto's bedside table on an automatic, continuous scan, the sisters went to bed as well. At Ami's request, Calypso woke her up every two hours to check on Makoto and the computer's findings, then put her back to sleep about ten minutes later with the same handy trick she had threatened to use on Ryo earlier in the day.

When Calypso woke herself up at 6:08 the next morning, she decided not to wake Ami again. The Nereid knew that this wake up/back to sleep pattern her sister had going wasn't healthy for a human, and the computer had said again and again that Makoto was sleeping a perfectly normal human sleep. Even the Aegis appeared to have gone into some form of dormancy, for aside from the weak magnetic force that was holding them in place, their energy level was down to virtually nil.

Nodding to herself, Caly drifted out under the door to avoid waking Ami by accident and, still in her cloudy state, moved towards the fridge. She was a bit thirsty, and one or two ice cubes from the freezer would be just what she needed. Halfway to her destination, though, the Nereid paused and shifted back into human shape. It was an instinctive sort of reaction, because Calypso was fond of the feel of many human facial expressions, and she needed eyes in order to stare properly at the very unusual thing her more-than-human senses had informed her of.

There was a small shoot of greeny-brown wood sticking out of the pot in front of the sliding glass door. It was about twenty centimeters tall and perhaps three centimeters across at its base, with a half-dozen dark brown buds scattered along its upper length. As the Nereid's big blue eyes stared in amazement, those buds opened, blooming within seconds into a half-dozen pale green leaves, translucent against the morning sunlight streaming in through the door.

Not taking her eyes from the sight, Calypso floated back to the bedroom to wake up Ami.

_…_…_

SAILOR SAYS:

(The scene is outside the Tsukino home. Streamers are visible through the front windows and the sounds of a party are faintly audible when Usagi slips though the door, they grow briefly louder before she closes the door.)

Usagi: Okay, everybody else is celebrating my marks, so I've got time to do the moral without any wise-cracking comments.

(On cue, Shingo pops up from behind the bushes, Super Soaker (TM) in hand, and blasts his sister. Then, suddenly serious and sober, he turns to the camera.)

Shingo: And the moral, illustrated by Usagi's marks, is that you can do anything when you put your mind to it, no matter *how* impossible...

Usagi: SHIN-GO!

(They take off down the street, running at top speed while Usagi shrieks at the top of her lungs. The door opens a moment later, and Rei and Luna stick their heads out and look around.)

Rei: Should we go after her?

Luna: I don't think it's necessary. Anything that tries to get between her and Shingo is going to be lucky to escape alive.

Arthur's voice: And for my next trick, I will turn into a talking cat!

(Luna and Rei blanch and quickly go back inside to stop him.)

12/07/01 (Revised, 22/08/02)

Another reasonably quiet episode. Odd, how I had to rewrite large parts of it about three times before it would work... maybe I just have an easier time writing those crazy fight scenes... oh well.

Why did I get into such a long discussion about the differing natures of the prescient abilities of the resident psychics? Trust me, it'll make some degree of sense in the near future.

And, without claiming psychic powers myself, I have the distinct feeling that NOBODY who's read this far has ANY doubts about what's going to happen to that little sapling in Makoto's living room.

In the future:
-Spring has sprung, the grass is ris, I wonders where the bad guys is?
-Spring is also supposed to be the time of year for love, right?

Enough procrastination. This one must get out to the public without any further delays. *Raises hands in dramatic fashion* Go, my pretties! Fly!

*The winged monkeys look at their 'master' oddly and then wander off in search of a banana, leaving said 'master' alone with a whistling gust of wind and some errant leaves.*