Author's note: Welcome to my series of one shots and I gladly welcome you to the first tale.

This short story is set before Darien and Serena know anything of their history or before they learn their true identities as Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon. In this tale, Serena learns Darien's true nature as a protector, a caring friend and his true feelings towards their interactions.

I hope you enjoy - please leave me a review and let me know your thoughts!


A Protector's Heart

"Why did it have to rain?!" Serena muttered, as she sped her way through the park.

It wasn't lost on her that the first time she decided to do some reading for school in the sun, the world decided to conspire against her, clouding the skies and letting the heavens open. She noticed the first few drops fall when they splashed onto the comic books that she had open around her which she promptly swept up and dropped in her bag. She figured the sun had given her the opportunity to impress her mother without the watchful hairy eyeball of her friends and she could read alone. She scowled at the sky. There was always something to ruin her efforts and this was how she now found herself fleeing the park with people of the same mind.

She heard her phone beep and she sought it out in her pocket, peering at the screen to find a message from her mother asking her if she was on her way home as the weather was going to take a turn for the worst. Serena rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, mom?" she grumbled. "It's going to take a turn for the worst. How could it possibly get worse?"

She sighed as she hoisted her bag up further on her shoulder and brushed her bangs back from her eyes. The sky was definitely darkening now as the rain got heavier and the shadows of the trees was starting to cast a creepy silhouette around the park. She rounded the corner of the rose garden and spotted a jogger coming towards her.

"Who on Earth would be out running in this?" she wondered, as she realised that he was running away from the exit of the park, rather than towards it like everyone else was.

She hoisted her bag up higher on her shoulder and felt her foot splash in a puddle. She looked down and groaned at the horrible squelchy feeling in her shoes. She looked back up when she heard the feet of the runner pounding against the ground get louder and she stepped out of the way as he sped past her with a nod of the head. That was when she felt her foot slip behind her on the grass verge and she felt her feet disappear from beneath her, as she tumbled down the hill.

"Ooh," she cried out, when she realised that she couldn't stop herself as she continued to roll towards the bottom where she caught a glimpse of the metal fence that stood between the grass verge and the lake.

Her bag had fallen from her shoulder but that wasn't her concern. Before she could hit the fence, she felt a tremendous pain in her head as her skull collided with a rock that was buried in the earth and all went black, leaving her on the ground motionless.


Darien breathed in the scent of the rain as he strolled through the park on his way home taking a shortcut through the park. He gripped his umbrella when he felt a breeze push against him, and he decided to swing past his favourite rose garden before heading out. He was always thankful that his apartment overlooked the park because he found no greater peace than being in the rose garden, hearing the wildlife and feeling the breeze whisper against his skin. He passed a few people scurrying away to seek shelter from the rain and continued on his way. He came to a standstill at the most fragrant roses in the garden and bent forward to inhale the sweet scent. He smiled to himself and stepped back, feeling something hard beneath his foot. Frowning, he glanced down, stepping back slightly to see what he stood on was actually in fact a mobile phone. He turned it over to find little stickers of a crescent moon, stars and a rose strategically placed on the back of the phone and turned it back over to click it on to see if he could find out who it belonged to. It seemed luck was on his side because he didn't need to go into the phone at all as the background photo was of Serena cuddling Luna into her side. He didn't realise that he was smiling but he certainly found it endearing.

But then it dawned on him that he was holding her phone in the middle of the park in the pouring rain. Why was it here? He looked around and spotted a mound on the floor. Tentatively, he walked over and realised it was a bag that he knew was hers. He crouched down and found it full of comics and what looked like a school textbook. He raised his eyebrows and looked up. He squinted through the rain when he spotted a skid mark in the grass that went down over the verge. He heard a pained groan and leaned over to see a figure on the ground a little down the hill. He glanced at the phone in his hand and the discarded bag and immediately shot to his feet, whipping the phone in the bag and the bag over his shoulder, carefully stepping his way down the hill, which he was suddenly thankful wasn't steep enough to gain momentum if he had a sledge to hand.

He reached the unmoving figure and realised in horror that it was Serena.

"Serena?" he asked, forgoing his preferred nickname for her. "Serena?" He crouched down and turned her over, so her face was visible. "Oh, my word."

It was immediately obvious that she'd hit her head really hard. Her cheek was starting to swell, a nasty bruise was angrily forming under her skin down the right side of her forehead, round her eye and her cheekbone and worse, she wasn't fully conscious.

"Serena?" he urged, gently touching her shoulder.

He heard her groan, her eyebrows twitching into a frown. He looked around and realised there was no one to call for help, so he did the only thing he could think of. He put his umbrella down to the side so that he could scoop her up into his arms, taking his umbrella in his hand with him. He got back up the hill and quickly made his way through the park and out. He whipped his head each way and crossed the road, carefully walking through the doors of his apartment building and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor.

He looked down and his eyes widened at the angry red bruising on her face. Her eyes were flickering open and closed and he squeezed her gently into him, prompting her to moan. The elevator pinged and he stepped out onto his floor, arriving at his door.

"Damn," he said, realising there was no way he could get to his keys without moving Serena.

"Darien?" her voice alerting him to her.

"Serena? Are you okay?" he asked, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall to awkwardly grab his keys from his pocket before he dropped her.

"It hurts," she replied weakly.

"I know," he grimaced, glancing down at her face.

He entered his apartment and immediately made a beeline for his bedroom. He set her down on his bed and she gasped, her eyes opening wide in shock.

"Serena?"

He frowned at her as he set both of their bags from his shoulder on the floor, crouching at her side. She squeezed her eyes closed, wincing at the pain that caused in her face.

"It's just my side," she breathed.

"What happened?" he asked. "It looked like you'd knocked yourself out."

"I can't really remember," she admitted, looking at him. "I remember… studying in the park." She tilted her head to one side as she pulled an annoyed face at him. "Don't start."

"I wasn't going to," he argued. "I'm more concerned with your injuries."

That pulled her up short. Usually, a good insult or jibe was just waiting for her at the end of his tongue. She took another steady breath.

"It started to rain," she continued, "so I packed up and I was on my way home. I think I slipped but I don't remember anything else."

"I found you on my way through the park home," Darien told her. "It's a convenient shortcut." He peered at her, the pain obvious on her face. He hesitated. "Can I see?"

"What?"

"Your side," he nodded at her. "Can I see what hurts?" He noted when she bit her bottom lip in uncertainty. "I'm training to be a doctor. Trust me."

She pushed herself so she was more upright, and she reached for the end of her blouse and pulled her shirt up her side to reveal her ribs. He couldn't process the smooth skin there, or the very unusual situation he found himself in, for all he could focus on was the fantastic colour decorating her side in patchy reds and purples.

"We're going to need some ice pronto," he declared. He pressed his lips together. "Serena, do you mind if I feel if anything is out of place?"

"You want to… touch me?" she gulped.

"I'll be gentle," he promised. "I want to make sure there's not more damage than we can see."

"O-okay," she stammered.

He shuffled closer to her and brought his hand up to her side. He brushed his fingers against her skin, causing her to unconsciously shiver, and he felt along her ribs.

"Ow," she complained, attempting to move out of his reach.

"Sit still," he commanded. "I'm almost done."

He felt along the remaining length of her ribs and pressed his lips together again.

"I don't think you have done anything other than strain the muscles in your side and bruise yourself," he diagnosed. "I'll get some ice for that."

He stood up, as she consciously pulled her blouse back down. He glanced at her shoes.

"Do you want me to take your shoes off?" he asked. "I doubt it's very comfortable with them on."

"No but I can do it," she replied, her breath hitching as she felt the strange butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She tried to push herself upright so she could reach for her shoes but after a brief moment of watching her struggle, he couldn't watch her anymore. With a roll of his eyes, he bent over and untied her shoes, deftly taking them off. He heard her inhale.

"Thanks," she muttered awkwardly.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he headed for his kitchen. He went into his freezer and filled a bowl with ice, grabbing a tea towel and a glass, then headed for his bathroom. He opened his cupboards and took a pack of aspirin, a bowl from under the sink, a soft flannel and antiseptic. He came back into his bedroom to find her peering at her feet with her eyebrows pushing together in a frown.

"What is it?" he wondered, setting everything down on the bedside table.

"I don't know," she shrugged, wincing at the action. She eyed the items he'd brought in. "Wow, are those all for me? You shouldn't have," she commented wryly.

"Steady on," he retorted, taking up some ice and dropping it in the tea towel. "Here, hold this against your side while I fill up your glass with water, then I want you to take two aspirin to help with the pain. Then we'll tend to your face."

He disappeared and Serena brought up her blouse again, tentatively resting the ice against her side.

"Damn, that hurts," she said under her breath.

Darien came back in and sat on the bed next to her. He offered her a sad smile.

"Oh, Meatball Head, you've really managed to take a trip of the year," he observed, brushing her bangs back from her face, which were admittedly still wet from the rain.

"Ha, ha," she scoffed.

He reached for the antiseptic and poured some onto his cloth.

"Sorry, but this may sting," he apologised. "You've really grazed your face. Once that is clean, I want to put a plaster over your cheek to protect the skin for the night. But we'll need some more ice on your head where I think you hit it. That may be really tender."

"Ouch!" she protested immediately after he applied the antiseptic to her grazes. "That hurts!"

"Stop whining, Meatball Head" he scolded her gently, dabbing at her skin as lightly as he could.

"You weren't calling me Meatball Head before," she huffed.

His hand hesitated in the air, the cloth awkwardly hovering by her nose and she frowned at him.

"I was worried when I found you like that," he confessed quietly.

Silence reigned over them as he continued to clean her face and she held the ice on her side. He picked up a plaster the size of his palm and ripped it open. He gave her a small smile as he carefully stuck it over her cheek. He grabbed another handful of ice and covered it in another towel he had brought in with him and held it up against her forehead. She recoiled from the contact.

"I know, it hurts," he said sympathetically.

"Why are you helping me?" she whispered.

His stormy eyes gazed at her intently and she found herself entranced by them.

"Why would I leave you unconscious in the pouring rain?"

She realised that the question demanded no answer. He was being a good Samaritan and living up to the good doctor she knew he would one day be. She suddenly found herself feeling emotional. Coupled with the pain she was, her unfortunate accident, getting caught in the rain, Darien finding her, caring for her and being his patient, knowing there would be more for him to come, it overwhelmed her, and the tears started to fall. These were different tears from the usual crocodile tears that Serena was so well known for. This was what made Darien pull away from holding the ice against her head and consider her silently for a moment, not knowing how to comfort her.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked helplessly.

She shook her head, choking on her words. If anything, his offer made the flow of tears more relentless. He put the ice pack to one side, putting his hand on top of her hand not currently gripping the ice pack she was holding against her side. She felt his fingers interlace with hers, squeezing them comfortingly as she cried.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, sadly.

"Honestly, I'd wonder why you wouldn't be crying at this point if you weren't already," he said, nudging her gently.

She rested her head against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh, my head hurts so much," she announced to the room.

Darien glanced at the bedside cabinet where he found she hadn't taken her painkillers. He picked up the pack of painkillers and expertly popped out two pills one handed, nudging her occupied hand at her side with them. She looked down and offered him a small smile, accepting them. She took the glass of water from him and swallowed a few mouthfuls, then handed him back the glass. It was then that she realised he hadn't let go of her hand.


"Yes, I'm okay, mom," Serena was saying into the phone. "Yeah." Darien looked over the island in the kitchen across the open floor plan to glance at Serena who was sat on the sofa, clutching the phone to her ear. "No, I just took a fall in the rain and a… friend," he heard the hesitation in her voice, "found me and brought me back to his place to help me clean up." A pause. "No, he's okay. He's Andrew's friend." Another pause. "I promise I'll be careful." He heard her sigh as she listened to her mother's response. "Are you sure?" Serena glanced towards the window where it was getting considerably darker with the continuing thrashing of the rain. "I guess you're right. I'll ask him." She brought her hand up to her face and winced when she caught the wrong side of her face. "Alright, I'll do it now, hold on."

Serena turned around to Darien and he raised his eyebrows expectedly.

"Darien, mom is asking me if it's okay if I stay here tonight while the weather is bad? Apparently, it's going to get worse, though I'm not sure how."

She pulled a face.

"Of course, Serena," he replied. "I was expecting that you'd need to anyway. Tell your mother you'll be safe here. I'll drive you over in the morning."

He hoped that would at least ease her mother's concerns about her staying at a man's house, let alone one she hadn't formally met.

"Thank you, Darien," she thanked him, granting him a brilliant smile.

That smile caught him short and he found himself staring at her far longer than was necessary. But she'd already turned back to the phone and missed the moment to give him a questioning expression in return. He heard her continue to chatter down the phone for a few minutes while he resumed making the butternut squash soup. He took the pan off the hob then took up his hand blender and set about blending the vegetables up into a thick creamy consistency. Once done, he placed it back on the hob to warm the soup through and grabbed the two-waiting bowls and ladled out two servings for them. He turned around with the two trays loaded with the bowls, bread and a glass of apple juice set on each and carried them over, offering one to Serena first before sitting down.

"This smells amazing, Darien," she complimented him. "I didn't know you were a cook."

"Oh, I'm not," he chuckled. "Making soup is very straightforward. Cooking is only following instructions."

"Lita says that," Serena returned. "Though she says I can burn water and I'm not sure that that is possible."

"Maybe for you it is," he said.

She looked at him and he smirked, giving her a sly wink. She swallowed, feeling her throat go dry and she drank some of her apple juice to quench her thirst and wet her throat. She ate a spoonful of soup and mm'd in appreciation.

"That sounds like a compliment," Darien smiled, ripping some bread to dunk in his soup.

She nodded enthusiastically. They sat together watching TV and that was when Serena's mind started to wonder. Occasionally, she glanced at Darien in between mouthfuls, considering him silently. It felt strange to be sat in his apartment, eating his food and wearing a shirt of his that fell to her knees. He insisted she get out of her clothing which was soaked after being caught in the rain in the manner she had. Because she felt so uncomfortable, she gave in and accepted his offer. The sweet scent of roses filled her nostrils and was it pine she also detected? The earthy smells were so Darien that she felt like she was receiving a big comforting hug from him. The idea brought a blush to her face again and she bit down on a bread roll. His kindness to her was unwavering and it was so different from the usual arguments that they had back and forth on a regular basis. The only time he called her by the dreaded nickname Meatball Head was when he was affectionately teasing her, and she couldn't grasp why. It was unfathomable to her.

"What has you so preoccupied?" Darien questioned, interrupting her thoughts. "Are you in pain?"

Serena looked at him. Was he really that concerned?

"Yeah," she responded, then immediately backtracked when he made to get up. "No, not pain. I guess I'm just thinking."

"Care to share?"

"You wouldn't be interested," she dismissed it.

"Hey, I've been interested enough to hear a play by play of the latest Sailor V movie for the past half an hour," he retorted. "Humour me."

She sighed, pushing her empty bowl to one side on the coffee table in front of her position on the sofa.

"Why haven't you been… mean to me?" she forced herself to form the words.

Darien gaped at her.

"Mean to you?" he repeated.

"Yeah," she shrugged minutely. "You're being so kind. I guess I just don't understand."

"Am I not usually kind?" he faltered.

"We argue," she reminded him, "a lot."

Darien downed the rest of his apple juice and likewise pushed his empty bowl away.

"Serena," he sighed. "Don't see that as an indication that I don't like you. Sure, you're infuriating, and different, and eccentric, and sometimes, I don't get you. But when you walk into the arcade, you light it up and I find myself leaving it with a smile on my face, regardless of what we've argued about. You're brilliant. No one, and I mean, no one… can deny that." He paused. "Plus, I think the world has been unkind enough to you for one day without me or anyone else piling on."

It was fair to say that the butterflies in Serena's stomach was the epitome of a kaleidoscope. She imagined that if the activity in her stomach was visualised, she would see a plethora of colours and patterns of shapes capable of making you feel like you were in another world. She gulped. Darien got up with his tray in hand.

"Would you like another drink?" he offered, figuring it less awkward to not draw any more attention to what he revealed to her.

She nodded, unable to find words. He took up her glass and his tray and disappeared in the kitchen to fill up their glasses. He turned back around to see Serena getting up off the sofa.

"Oh!" she gasped, as her feet went from under her and she landed in a spectacular heap on the floor.

Darien put the glasses back on the kitchen worktops and rushed to her side.

"Are you alright?" he worried, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I knew it was a good idea to carry you in here in the first place," he muttered, recalling her strong protest. "It's your ankle I'm betting. Let me see it."

"Eugh, today is not my day," she mumbled with a quiver in her voice.

She let him look at her ankle which had a certain swelling about it, and he pressed his lips together.

"I'm sorry, Serena, but we need more ice on this for a little while," he apologised.

"It's okay," she said. "You're not the idiot who took a tumble."

Darien helped her back up on the sofa, flicking the end of her nose gently.

"Don't be silly," he scolded. "I doubt you woke up this morning thinking this was how you wished to end the day."

She watched him go and scowled at her ankle. She must have twisted it when she took a fall. That must explain why she felt that uncomfortable thrumming after Darien removed her shoes. He came back with an ice pack and offered it to her to hold against her ankle herself.

"Let's watch TV while that works its magic," he smiled.

They sat together on the sofa and after ten minutes, Darien jumped in shock when Serena let out a frustrated shriek, throwing her head back against the back of the sofa which prompted a groan when she realised that she obviously still had her concussion.

"What's wrong, Meatball Head?" She narrowed her eyes at him, and he held up his arms in surrender. "Alright, I'm just kidding. Seriously, what's up?"

Without a word, she just gestured at her swollen ankle, pointed at her still sore side and her face with the bumped forehead, and bruising colourfully decorating the right side of her face. He pulled a sympathetic face and patted her hand.

"Accidents happen, Serena," he assured her. "Really, you'll heal. You'll be fine. You're just having one of those days."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "I don't see you with these injuries."

Darien opened his mouth then closed it again. She frowned.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, turning back to the TV, but the frown was still faintly there between his eyebrows.

She nudged him.

"Darien, come on."

He muted the TV and turned to her.

"I was in a car accident when I was really young. I lost my parents and with them, my memory of everything that came before. I was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia. Let's just say… I was having one of those days then too."

Sadness clouded her blue eyes and her mouth downturned in response, but she refused to let the tears come forth in response. He didn't need pity after all.

"I'm sorry, Darien," she apologised, putting her hand on top of his and squeezing it to her.

His eyes flickered to their enjoined hands and he smiled.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "We get past the bad days."

To support his statement, the rain really thrashed against the windows then with a loud clap, the thunder echoed across the city. In the next moment, the sky was lit up when lightning struck, highlighting the black of the clouds. Serena screamed, launching the ice pack away from her and clutched at the nearest thing to protect her, which just happened to be Darien himself. His eyebrows were firmly lodged in the ceiling now as he gazed down open mouthed at the quivering blonde hiding her face in his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist. After the initial moment of surprise, his arms came round her small frame.

"I take it you don't like thunderstorms," he surmised.

He felt her shake her head against him and he chuckled.

"It's alright," he soothed her. "You won't get hurt in here. You're safe."

There was something about those words coming from his lips that made her feel like that was true. If it came from anyone else, she wasn't sure that she would have believed them. He unmuted the TV and continued to sit with his arms around her. Every time the thunder boomed through the sky and the lightning brightened the skies for that moment, he felt Serena shiver in fear, whimpering at the loud sounds and violent winds.

"Mom was right," he heard her muffled voice from in the confines of his shirt.

"Yes?"

"It could get worse!" she wailed.

He chuckled. Time went by and it got to the point when it was clear that the storm wasn't going to let up any time soon, but it was certainly time to get some shut eye. He peered down at her.

"Serena, we need to move," he coaxed her. "It really is time we go to bed."

At his words, her head shot up and she stared at him with confused and apprehensive eyes.

"You can sleep in my bed," he promised her. "Don't worry. I'll sleep out here."

There was something about her expression that pulled him up short. Again.

"What is it?"

"I don't think I could sleep with the storm going on," she whispered.

"Do you want to stay out here?" he asked.

She shook her head, biting her lip. He felt like he knew what she wanted but to say the words for her panicked him. He'd never been in that position to comfort a girl at night who gave him very strong mixed, confused feelings. But he bit the bullet. He knew he was built to protect, and she made him want to protect her. He didn't recall ever feeling so strongly before. He untangled her arms from around his waist and got to his feet. He leaned over and scooped her up into his arms, flicking off the lights as he walked through to his bedroom. He lay her back down where she previously occupied the bed and he disappeared back through to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water. He quickly washed the bowls up and left them to dry on the draining board before coming back through into the bedroom with the glasses. He immediately noted the Serena shaped mound under the covers and chuckled to himself. He set the glasses down and disappeared into the bathroom to change his clothes, brush his teeth and wash his face, then he returned to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Then he felt her hands seeking him out, balling up into a fist against his white t-shirt. He turned onto his side and pulled the cover back from her head. He brushed some hair back from her face.

"You're alright," he murmured into her hair, pulling her closer. "You'll be asleep faster than you think. You won't even know the storm is going on outside."

At this, Serena absolutely believed him. As terrified as she was, she never felt safer in his arms and it was a new feeling: scary, intense but welcome.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Darien," she breathed against his chest.

He squeezed her gently, always gently, so he wouldn't hurt her. Eventually he heard her breathing slow and become shallow and he gazed at her.

"You're so unfair, Serena," he thought, "to leave into your own world. Maybe I'll join you one day."