We do not own "Sailor Moon" nor any of the characters.
"SAILOR MOON ETERNAL"
The 6th Season of the Sailor Moon Saga
Chapter 3
"A Galaxy of Differences"
A songbird's sweet melody awakens Susan from her dream-filled sleep. She opens her window, welcoming in the bright morning sunlight.
How glorious this Earth is, how wondrous to be living on it! Her own melody plays in her heart as she gazes across the open pastures stretching behind the house. That's why we chose this place to raise Tara in, because here everything is so green and fresh, and alive, basking in sunlight. I don't want her to ever feel alone. Susan's own lonely soul vowed to never let that happen. She looks down at the still slumbering child, feeling the responsibility weigh heavily upon her.
I can teach her many things, but to raise her in the loving atmosphere she deserves, I don't know if I can do that. I've frozen my heart long ago. And yet…Susan smiles, caressing Tara's pale cheek.
Am I really incapable of love? Engrossed in these thoughts, humming to herself, she readies herself for a new day. She then heads for the kitchen to start breakfast when she sees Alex tumble out of her room, looking tired, disheveled and more than a little bit upset, still in her sleepwear.
"Good morning, Alex." Susan says pleasantly. "Didn't you sleep well?"
"Not a wink." Her dark eyed housemate mumbles.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Susan says sympathetically.
"Didn't you hear it?!" Alex asks in disbelief.
"Hear what?" Susan asks, confused.
"That man sounds like a train! I don't know how you managed to sleep through it!"
Susan smiles. "Oh, Alex, it couldn't be that bad."
"It was pretty bad," Michelle comes out of her room just then, also in her frilly lace nightgown.
"See?" Alex aims at Susan, who shrugs. Suddenly the snoring starts again, echoing through the halls loud and clear.
Alex spins on her barefoot heel towards the living room.
"Alex?" Susan whispers, chasing her down the hall, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to wake it up." She states decidedly.
"Amara, you can't!" Michelle's high pitched whisper shrieks.
"And why not?" Alex asks almost haughtily.
"Because—because—he's a guest!" Michelle's proper upbringing demands.
"An unwanted one!" She whispers back, her eyes flaring.
"Alex," Susan's calm voice intercedes, "really you shouldn't…oh my—" she stops short.
"Oh my, indeed! It appears a tornado hit this place!" Michelle observes. Pillows and sheets and clothes were strewn everywhere, a shirt hanging over the lamp, a pair of pants tossed on the floor. And there, lazily sprawled across the couch, was the person responsible for the disaster area, a lean muscular young man uncovered by neither sheet nor blanket, wearing neither shirt nor pants.
Susan gasps at both uncovered man and discovered mess. Turning away, she quickly retreats to the kitchen. Michelle blushes a deep red, though the little French girl inside of her could not turn away from peeking.
And as for Alex, Alex smiles wickedly and purposefully strides up to the sleeping figure, who, as she moves closer and gets a look at his face, actually looked very sweet and peaceful, and amazingly quiet. But that would not deter her. Leaning down, close to his ears, she takes a deep breath and shouts: "WAKE UP!" as loudly as her lungs could muster. And that was loud indeed.
Unbelievably fast, Sayer Starr jerks awake, instantly trying to jump up. His gangly legs become tangled, sending him plunging face first to the floor, but not without taking Alex down with him. So there they lie once again, his "only-wearing-boxer-shorts" body pressed against hers being the only differentiation from an instant replay of last night's little escapade.
Sayer shakes off the shock of his rude wake up call and looks down smirking at the disgruntled woman trapped beneath him.
"You just can't get enough of me, can you?"
Alex sighs, pushing him away hard, jumping to her feet uneasily, the scent of his rich cologne making her feel dizzy.
It must be that stupid cologne, why else would I feel so dizzy inside? Her heart pounds in her head.
The commotion awakens the rest of the household. Terry and Robin quickly come racing into the living room, Terry in his undershirt, Robin in a borrowed oversized nightshirt, expecting danger. When they catch a glimpse of Sayer and Alex together on the floor and the state of disaster the room is in, with sheets and pillows and clothes strewn everywhere, Robin snickers.
"So what were you two up to last night?" He chuckles, leadingly insinuating with the snide remark.
"Argh!" Alex grunts. "He is not spending another night in this living room!" The golden haired woman shouts, pointing a finger at Sayer.
"Now, Amara dear, be reasonable." Michelle says, attempting to calm down the earthshaking storm.
"Reasonable? Look at this mess!" Alex explodes, pointing her long arms about the unkempt room.
Terry begins collecting Sayer's discarded clothes and apologetically says, "I'm terribly sorry. We can move him to the room I'm staying in. He won't be any more trouble, I promise."
"Yeah, right." Alex grumbles looking down at the miscreant, who was still on the floor, lounging lazily again the couch, his arms folded across his bare chest as he casually yawns.
"Yes, that's a good idea. We have a spare bed in the attic you can use." Michelle remembers. "If you'll help us get it down."
"Of course," Terry smiles. "Just show me where, please."
"Follow me." Michelle says with a wave of her hand. Terry obediently follows, giving Sayer that raised eyebrows look that he always reprimanded him with whenever he got into trouble.
Which was quite often.
Sayer shrugs with a smile in response and Terry couldn't help but smile back, shaking his head at his brother's irresponsibility.
"You go put some clothes on." Alex points at Sayer. He stands up, picking up the pile of folded clothes on the coffee table that Michelle brought last night. Moving close to the angry female, he smiles coyly. "You got it…Ally."
"What did you call me?!" Amaralexis Sokova's deep voice echoes through the house, all the way into the attic, making Michelle chuckle.
"Oh, Amara, he does give you trouble, doesn't he?" Michelle comments, giggling in the attic.
"Oh, Sayer is good at that. Causing and making." Terry answers as he hefts boxes from on top of the mattress in one fluid motion.
"Well, Amara isn't a slouch in that particular department either." Michelle responds, coquettishly brushing her curls back at the thought of her cousin's wrath.
"Funny how much they're really alike." Terry observes, dusting off the mattress in the attic they were in.
"Yes, that's why they get along so famously." She injects some her trademark sarcasm with a smile. They laugh as Terry lifts the heavy mattress with ease.
"But really, I do have to watch out for my brother. He is a bit headstrong." Terry says, the turn of conversation becoming more serious.
"Really? I have to do the same for Amara." Michelle concurs, her thoughts for her beloved on the same track.
"Then they truly must have something in common." Terry concludes as they walk down the hall, mattress in tow in his strong arms.
"They just don't know it yet..." She speaks her thoughts aloud, suddenly feeling a pang of loss with the idea, a feeling the intuitive female couldn't explain at the moment.
Susan peeks from the kitchen just in time to see Terry Starr lift a mattress high into the air, the muscles flexing in his bare arms. The sight takes her breath away for a moment and she leans against the doorway with a gentle sigh, watching him disappear into Tara's room.
Then, all of a sudden she smells something burning.
"Oh, the pancakes!" Responsible cook Susan rushes back to the stove.
First time that's happened, she thinks to herself.
"First time for a lot of things." She says softly in reflection.
Tara awakens and hurriedly dresses for school. What a bright and happy day! She looks out the window, her often weak lungs filling with the sweet fragrance of flowers. She runs out of her room and sees Terry and Michelle coming down the hall, Terry carrying a mattress.
How strong he must be to be able to carry such a heavy thing all by himself. The young girl scurries back into her door to stay out of the way. But Terry spots her and smiles a greeting.
"Good morning, Tara."
Oh, how melodious his voice is!
"Good morning, Terry." She barely manages to say as they pass by. How handsome he looks in the morning! How gorgeous and tall in his undershirt! Tara's heart goes racing. And he stopped to say 'Good Morning' just for me! Her eyes glistening, her heart soaring, feeling more alive than ever before, she runs to the kitchen, welcoming in the new day.
"Good morning!" Passing Susan with a big smile, Tara sings out to Robin, who was already sitting at the table sipping tea, wearing a shirt a size too large. Tara hops on the chair across from him.
"'Morning." He answers simply, sounding groggy.
"How are you this morning?" Susan asks pleasantly, stacking pancakes on Tara's plate.
"Wonderful!" She answers happily. Susan smiles, glad to see her charge so happy. Soon Michelle flutters in, looking very becoming in a summery white dress.
"Oh, do you think so?" Michelle says aloud to Robin, obviously picking up his thoughts again, smiling coyly at his silent commentary. He blushes slightly, brushing the silvery hair from his eyes, as she takes the seat next to him.
"You look very nice today, Tara." Michelle smiles at the child. "Isn't that Susan's perfume I detect?" She sniffs the air delicately. Now, it was Tara's turn to blush, and Michelle laughs softly. "I won't tell." The older woman whispers conspiratorially.
Terry comes in next in a shirt a size or two too small, looking rather dashing in the way it tightly clings to his body.
"Good morning." He says to Susan as he passes by with a gentlemanly bow of his head.
"Good morning." But the dark green haired woman turns away quickly, pretending to be engrossed in her cooking.
"Good morning, Miss Moreau, Robin." He says pleasantly taking a seat beside an elated Tara.
"Morning." Robin nods dully to his brother, undemonstrative, as he was definitely not a morning person suited to all these early day niceties. That is, until the aqua-haired debutante floats over him with a tantalizing smile.
"Syrup?" With something sweeter than sugar in her mental offer, Michelle commandeers the once aloof young idol's recalcitrant glance as Terry turns to Tara, who only had eyes for him.
"Getting ready for school? You look very—" The studious man with the slicked back mahogany hair gazes down at the younger girl whose book bag hung on the chair by the door was a dead giveaway clue to this former 'Holmes Boy Detective.'
"Look, Ter!" Just then cutting off his polite brother's compliment, much to Tara's twisted lip dismay, Sayer comes bounding in, looking refreshed and full of energy.
The dashing navy blue ponytailed young man twirls around to show off his sleek, high-collar style, stretching his arms out with a smug expression at the pleasing fit of the borrowed black shirt and golden jacket that had been set out for him in the bathroom. "Unlike you and Rob, this outfit suits me just right. Exactly my size." Sex symbol Sayer Starr had gotten the approval of the mirror he had been styling his hair at for most of the morning thus far.
"Oh, good, I thought it might—" Michelle starts to answer him. But that's when Alex enters the kitchen, still in her bathrobe, her short-cropped hair damp.
"Hey, Michelle, where have all my…" She stops short, her eyes resting on Sayer. "My clothes!" She grabs his shirt front, pulling him violently.
"Where did you—?!" She growls angrily in confusion. Then suddenly realizing, she bellows, "MICHELLE! You gave them MY CLOTHES!" Her eyes flash angrily at her best friend and sailor partner.
"Now, Amara, you couldn't expect me to give them any of mine or Susan's." Michelle begins to explain. "Besides, it's only three little shirts, a jacket and a tie or two. Nothing to get so excited over. You wouldn't want them to go out in town wearing those dashing gold-trimmed Princely tunics and get swarmed by fangirls and curious reporters, would you?"
"I don't give a damn what swarms around them! Hopefully something that stings! Ugh!" Alex blows air through her mouth. "Nothing in this house is sacred!" She stomps out in a huff.
Tara watches her Alex-papa storm out of the kitchen with wide eyes.
Why doesn't she like them? The quite teenager thinks to herself. They're so nice, especially…Tara looks up meekly at Terry, her heart pounding in her little chest. So nice, she sighs the sigh of a thirteen year old in love for the first time.
Embarrassed by the scene, Terry says graciously. "I hope Miss Sokova will forgive the unintended intrusion. Would she like us to—?" He starts to unravel his ill gotten 'borrowed' tie.
"Of course not, Terry. Ignore her. Amara just gets like that." Michelle smoothes it over nonchalantly, pushing her wavy hair back. "There's nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, you heard the lady, Ter. We're only borrowing! She'll get over it." Waving a hand, Sayer plops down next to his brothers at the kitchen table casually, like he owned the place.
"Breakfast! I'm starving!" He loudly states when Susan finally comes to the table with yet one more batch of pancakes and alights next to Michelle.
"These are delicious, Miss de Venici." Terry compliments, attempting to gain the favor of her stunning magenta eyes.
"Why, thank you." Susan blushes, inexplicably unable to meet his gaze for long. "And please, 'Miss de Venici' is so formal. Please call me 'Susan.'"
"Susan," Terry repeats slowly, letting the word deliberately roll across his tongue. "A lovely name." He smiles in flirtatious appreciation with engaging orbs of his own upon her.
"Sure!" Sayer says his mouth still full of pancakes. Then he swallows, a thought popping int his racing head. "We can call you 'Susie!'"
"Sayer." Terry gives his brother a warning glance and deeper voice that showed his disapproval.
"What?" Sayer asks in confusion, the outward, friendly young man not realizing he did anything wrong.
"That's fine." Susan laughs with a gentle smile. "No one's ever called me a pet name. I think it's sweet."
Sayer gives Terry a sideways smirk. "See?" Then he notices Terry's tight shirt. "You don't really fit in that, do you?" He asks of his tall, broad chested sibling who was practically busting apart from his snug shirt.
"Well, it is a little tight." Terry says, looking down at the short sleeved white button-up shirt he indeed had a difficult time in buttoning over his manly chest. "Why don't you go into town and buy us some clothes?"
"Yeah, something more my style." Robin complains of the navy silk shirt and pale blue trench coat he was virtually swimming in, feeling rather too uptight in anything belonging to that disagreeable rambo woman.
Michelle giggles at him, thinking the mint-eyed fashion plate looked adorable, if not exactly as elegant as his manner demanded.
"Yes. I suppose I wouldn't want you to come to my art exhibition looking like that." She stretches the loose arm of his long jacket sleeve.
"You're having an art exhibition?" Robin's sullen attitude suddenly disappears, his mint eyes widen in interest for once about something.
"Later tonight, if you're interested in coming." She teases, already knowing his answer without even delving into his mind.
"I'll be there." He nods, uncharacteristically smiling brightly.
If you really want me. His mind adds, testing their silent communication.
I do. Her thoughts come back to him, sweet and strong and clear.
Unaware of the unspoken communications going on as the room goes silent, save for Sayer's noisy chomping and dish clattering, Susan glances at the watch pinned to her chest pocket.
"Tara, it's time to go."
"Oh." Tara frowns, disappointed, wanting to spend more time with these new visitors, one in particular.
"We'll see you later, then, after your very important school lessons." Terry says to Tara., education extremely imperative to his genius mind.
The dark haired junior high school student nods happily, grabbing up her book bag and skipping out the door.
"Would you like to join us, Sayer? I heard you wish to purchase your own clothing, and we're going into town close to the shoppes." Susan offers, politely, trying to be helpful.
"Sure, thanks, Susie! See you guys later." He says to his two brothers without a second thought.
"Bye 'Chelle." He waves to Michelle on his way out.
"My name is Mi-chelle." She says haughtily, stressing the first syllable.
"Don't forget to stop at the bank for the funds in our Three Lights' account." Terry reminds his absent-minded sibling.
"Right!" He calls back, giving the group's responsible secretary/accountant/treasurer/manager/everything in between, a quick thumbs up. Sayer then follows Susan and Tara out to a sleek yellow convertible. "Whoo. Nice car." He whistles, impressed as he checks out the smooth golden yellow chassis.
"It's Alex's." Susan answers as she walks up to the expensive sports race car .
"Very nice." Sayer says, running his hand over the sparkling hood of the yellow Ferrari in an admiring manner.
Tara climbs into the back seat, and Susan takes the keys out of her pocket which she had secured from the key ring by the door of their shared residence.
"Do you mind driving us to the school? In my line of work I don't get around that much so I'm still just a novice, Alex is teaching me." She says pleasantly, handing him the keys to the beloved vehicle that Alex usually was glad to get behind the wheel of for any of the Outer group, with the exception of today, for obvious reasons.
Susan was not quite comfortable explaining what her own sheltered life within Time's Doorway entailed. But she was glad not to have to get behind the wheel, it not her forte yet.
"Drive?" Sayer answers, his usually smooth voice cracking. He was about to elucidate to this fellow Sailor Soldier that he never had the opportunity or need to learn, with there being no vehicles of this sort on Kinmoku, nor Janus. And star travel was…different.
Besides, Terry always did the automotive driving for the three of them when they were here on earth…But the male ego that also came with landing on this green planet soon takes over, and bravado kicks in.
"Sure, no prob." He takes the keys and slides behind the wheel into the driver's seat like it was second nature. A deep breath of sucked in fresh air and then Sayer starts the car, calmed by its smooth purring. Looking down at the complicated dashboard, he wishes he took the time to learn to drive.
Why didn't I bother when we were here last? I guess since Fighter didn't need wheels to travel and Terry always drove us anywhere we wanted to go in our human forms, I just didn't feel the need. Mental note: Ask Ter to teach me to drive. Oh, well, that's not gonna help me now.
He puts his hand on the Ferrari's stick shift and Susan says, talking down to him, like a mother. "—Aren't we forgetting something, Sayer?"
"Huh?" He searches his mind, trying to remember when driving with Terry what to do next.
"Your seat belt?" She says, tugging at hers, her eyebrows raised.
"Oh, right." He sighs with relief, fumbling for the stupid device. I never did like this thing, he thinks as it finally clicks into place, none of the nearly invincible, freedom loving Sailor Starlights bothering to strap in the inhibiting devices.
"All right. Here we go!" He shifts gears of the inscrutable stick shift of the high performance vehicle, lightly stepping on the gas.
And they all go flying backwards. The quick reactive young soldier hits the breaks hard, stopping within inches of backing up and hitting a tree.
Susan gasps and Tara squeaks, each holding onto their seat belts and seats.
"Heh heh," Sayer giggles nervously, "wrong gear." He shifts again, luck smiling upon him, and chooses the right one this time. They lurch forward and then smoothly turn onto the main road.
"Haven't driven for awhile, um…in outer space." He lies as an excuse. Never, actually, he thinks to himself. Getting familiar with the road, he smiles, as the wind blows through his hair. As his confidence gains, he picks up speed, but soon the desolate country road ends, turning into busy city streets. Susan, clutching the arm rest on her seat, shakingly directs him down the streets towards Tara's school.
"Turn left at the next light." She points. The car goes speeding down the busy road, a yellow streak cutting off several other cars, their horns blasting. They reach a signal light but go speeding right through the red light, tires spinning with a screech.
"There's the school!" Susan announces joyfully, truly glad to see its gates. Sayer pulls the sports car up to it and manages to hit the brake pads with a screeching halt. Susan thankfully steps out, feeling weak-kneed, happy to feel the firm ground beneath her feet. Tara climbs out of the back, her pale face even paler than usual. Sayer leans back in his seat, resting his left arm on the window.
"See ya later, pipsqueak!" He calls out the window. "I'll take you around later if you feel like a drive someplace!"
"'Bye," Tara timidly says, her little voice shaking as she dreads the death-defying idea.
"I'll pick you up later." Susan leans down, fixing Tara's collar with the assurance.
"Bye..." Tara swallows, feeling pity for her Susan-mama having to risk her life driving back with the madman behind the wheel of Alex-papa's adored auto.
Oh, boy. Better you than me explaining that…
Returning to the car, Susan goes to the driver's side. "Maybe I should drive you to the bank. It's hard to find." She tries to cleverly cover up her self-preservation attempt.
Beisdes, Alex will kill me if something happens to her Ferrari...
"Oh, all right." Sayer says, playing along, secretly relieved. He slides over to the passenger seat and Susan gets into the driver's side, making sure to put on her seat belt. At least she was practicing with Alex to obtain her driver's permit, more than she could say of the cocky young man who now, thankfully, was safely in the passenger's seat.
Slowly, Susan pulls back into traffic towards the bank. On the way there, they pass the 10th Street High School.
"There's our High School!" Sayer says excitedly, leaning out the window.
"Did you miss it?" Susan asks sympathetically, sensing the emotion in his voice, supposing he must have attended once.
"The school? Nah. Never liked school much. Just the good times, the good friends we made here. I missed that." He looks at Susan, wondering why she didn't attend, being a young person, too.
She smiles sadly, sharing in the sentiment, knowing exactly what he meant. She considers him for a moment.
Under that wild exterior is really a sweet boy—a sweet boy who has no idea how to drive, she smiles to herself as she turns jerkily into the bank parking lot.
"I'll be right back." He throws over his shoulder as she parks, jumping out right over the side door. She shakes her head with a knowing smile, his exuberance contagious. Five minutes pass. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. She waits. And though there is not a more patient woman on the planet, Susan starts to wonder what happened. Finally he comes jogging back to the car, a large wad of money in his hand.
"What took so long? Was there a problem with the funds after all this time?" She asks, curious as she drives out.
"Oh, the girl needed my ID and I didn't bring any." He says nonchalantly, sticking the huge wad of money in his pocket like it was nothing.
"Oh, yes, they always ask for that. How did you get the money, then?"
"I winked at the teller." He says, mischief glowing in his eyes, making Susan laugh out loud. Now it was his turn to consider her. There's something sad and lonely about this girl—no, this woman—at least she seems more mature than the rest. There was something else he had noticed about her earlier. He could've sworn he saw her eyes light up in a certain way whenever she talked to Terry. And the funny thing is, I could swear Terry was looking at her the same way! Sayer gazes at Susan. She is a really pretty woman—my brother has good taste. He smiles at her. We have to learn more about you, if we're going to be getting more friendly.
"So what else do you do besides practice driving to take the pipsqueak back and forth to school?"
"Well, nothing right now." She says guardedly.
"What do you like to do, then?" He says, not giving up so easily.
"I don't know. Sewing, I suppose. I'd like to be a fashion designer…someday." Susan says hopefully. Just then they pull up to a ritzy men's clothing store.
"That's great! What luck! You can help me pick out some clothes then!" Sayer says merrily in his ignorant, imposing way, jumping out of the golden yellow Ferrari.
"Oh, I—" She starts to argue. She had intended to just stay in the car while he went in. She gets out, looking in the window. The store was full of high-class men—not a woman in sight—even the cashier was a man. And if she went in with Sayer…
She stops, midstride. Sayer stops, too, turning around.
"What is it?" He asks, truly oblivious to the situation.
"I don't think I should go in there." She says hesitantly.
"Why not?"
"Well," she pauses not quite knowing what to say, "there are only men in there and I wouldn't want to intrude…"
"C'mon, I need you to help me. I'll get lost in that big place by myself." He tries to convince her with sad puppy-dog eyes.
"Sayer, I don't think it would look right…" She looks at him apologetically. It finally dawns on him what she means. A young woman and a young man choosing clothes together in a conservative and ritzy men's shop—well, it might raise some eyebrows. A solution springs to mind.
"You can say I'm your brother." He says, proud of the idea.
"But…" She was about to point out their skin tone difference when he grabs her arm.
"C'mon…'Sis!" He smiles wickedly pulling her in the door with him.
"Yes, sir, what can I help you with today?" A snooty looking clerk asks, surveying Sayer and Susan up and down critically.
"My sister," Sayer stresses the word looking at Susan, "and I would like to look at some clothes and stuff."
"Don't forget the tuxedos," Susan adds.
"Oh yeah, three tuxedos, too."
"All for you, sir?" The clerk asks skeptically.
"One's for me. The other two are for my brothers."
"I must tell you, sir, our tuxedos, sir, are rather expensive." His high-faluting English accent heavy, the British man obviously doubted this customer's credibility.
"Oh, that's alright," It doesn't phase Sayer, "I think I brought enough to cover it." He pulls out the large swath of cash bills from his pocket, all large, ten thousand yen notes. The clerk's bulging eyes light up.
"Oh, yes sir, certainly," the clerk says, suddenly humble, "what sort of tuxedos would you be interested in?"
"Show me what you got."
The clerk quickly whips out a catalogue. "We have a large stock in the back room, as well." he offers.
"That's good," Susan smiles, "the wedding is tomorrow."
"Wedding tuxedos then?" The man queries. "A friend's wedding?"
"A very good friend." Sayer says meaningfully, thoughtfully as he looks up from the catalogue.
"Well then, let me show you some of our finest suits." The clerk leads them through the shop. He takes them over to a display of especially pricey looking suits and picks up a designer red and grey modern formal jacket.
"This one looks just your size, sir." He holds it out for Sayer to try on. Sayer slides into it easily, pulling on the lapels.
"Yeah, it'll do." Sayer says simply, his carefree mood now elsewhere.
The man smiles, obviously pleased with his customer's easy-going, easy-to-please attitude. "I'll have it wrapped for you right away." He says, clapping his hands as a young man hurriedly takes the tuxedo into the back room. "And for your brothers, sir?"
Sayer casually looks around, spotting one he liked. "I think Ter would like that grey and yellow one with tails—that matches don't you, Susie?"
Susan, trying to stay unnoticed in the corner, just nods.
"All right, that one—you got a long one? My brother's kinda tall. But he's still skinny! Just…he was made more broad-shouldered in this body…" Peeking around the corner of the shop mannequin, Sayer informs the clerk of his male form compared to Maker's.
"Yes, we have those designer styles available in several sizes." The attendant was too interested in making a big sale to decipher the odd sentence of his young new client.
"Good. And I guess this one for Robin, so we all match. We're still the 'Three Lights,' after all!" The rock star picks up a smaller, grey and light bluish one with a nonchalant shrug.
"Certainly, sir." He claps again and more scurrying clerks come running.
"Oh yeah," Sayer remembers, "we'll need some inner shirts and things to match these suits, with socks, and shoes, and cufflinks and ties and—" He pauses, looking sneakily at Susan, "some underwear, too." Susan looks down, blushing. The snooty clerk no longer cared about the low-class bluntness of his customer, all he could see were the dollar signs lighting up in his head from this massive bulk order in triplicate.
"Yes, sir. Any kind you'd be interested in, in particular?"
"Nah. Just pick out 3 sets of everything. And loads of the under stuff, for sexy people." Sayer says nonchalantly, not caring who heard his brashly truthful order.
"Yes, certainly. Now, can you tell me the exact sizes of yourself and your brothers, sir?" The clerk asks for pertinent information.
"Sizes, huh?" Sayer looks up blankly. "You got a phone?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Susie, could you call Ter and ask him our sizes?"
"Oh! All right." She says, suddenly nervous, following the salesman to the phone.
"Don't forget mine!" Sieve headed Sayer bellows through the usually sedate storeroom.
Susan nods, smiling at her young companion's immaturity and reliance on his older brother. She dials home, her nervousness growing with each ring. What am I going to say? The thought races through her mind.
"Hello?" Alex's low voice answers.
"Alex, can you get Terry for me?" Susan asks sweetly.
"What do you want him for?" Alex asks incredulously.
"Sayer needs to know their sizes, for their suits." Susan tries to explain.
"He left without knowing? Brainless jerk." Alex says exasperated.
"Hey, you got a call," she says coolly to Terry as he passes by. Before handing him the phone she says into it,
"You are taking care of my car?" Alex growls almost threateningly.
"Yes, Alex." Susan says, trying to forget about the wild ride to school.
"Here." Alex hands Terry the phone tersely.
"Hello?" His polite low voice sending tingles through Susan's body.
"Oh, hello. It's me, Susan." She says quickly, so nervous was she.
"Hello, Susan," hearing her voice on the other end for some reason makes him smile.
"Sayer asked me to call you. We're at the clothing store and he chose your tuxedos, but he doesn't know your sizes." It all spills out in one nervous breath.
"Oh, Sayer." Terry sighs with a chuckle, "Please tell him I wrote it all down for him already. I told him, but I suppose he's forgotten. I put it in his right back pocket."
"Oh, I will..." Susan says meekly. Just then Sayer and the clerk come up, dumping a monstrous pile of clothing on the counter.
"Here's your brother now." Susan says to Terry, sticking the phone in Sayer's face, embarrassed.
"Hey, Ter," Sayer says. "In my pocket? No, it's not—" he protests as he feels around in his back pocket. "Oh," he says suddenly, pulling out the errant piece of paper, "Here it is!" He smiles as if he just discovered it on his own, handing it to the salesman. "Mine here, too?" he asks.
"Of course. You don't know your sizes, do you?" Terry teases his little brother.
"Sure I do," Sayer snaps back, "just making sure." he lies.
"Alright," Terry smiles knowingly, "I'll see you later then—"
"—Don't get me anything ugly, Sayer." Robin's voice suddenly cuts in on the line.
"Why would I get you anything ugly?" Sayer answers angrily, this pair rarely getting along if not for Terry's calmly moderating regulation between them all these years.
"Because you have no taste." Robin's sharp-witted remarks come with a snicker.
"You're lucky if I get you anything at all now!" Sayer growls, slamming down the phone hard. Then he turns to Susan with a sweet smile as if that never occurred. "Are we ready to go?"
"Just about, sir." The clerk says from behind the cash register as he quickly rings up the numerous items on the counter.
"Shall I bring these packages to your car sir? Or would you like me to send them to your house?"
"Put everything in the car." He says, holding his hand out to Susan, who then hands him the keys. "It's parked right out front—the slick yellow Ferrari," he says showing off, obviously enamored with the vehicle, as he hands the man the keys.
"Yes, sir. Thank you very much for visiting our fine establishment. Do come again!" A salesman's happiness meant commissions filled to the high price utmost as this morning had brought to him.
Five minutes later, Sayer and Susan were driving home, the trunk and back seat filled to the brim with bags and boxes of clothes.
"You certainly bought enough." Susan says looking in her rear view mirror at the mountain of boxes in the back.
"Yeah. But watch Rob not like any of it." He says knowing his brother's selectiveness.
"What about your other brother? Is he hard to shop for as well?" Susan sneaks in the questions.
"Terry? Nah, no way. He'd make do with anything I brought. Terry's a good egg." Sayer says with a wistful smile.
"You must be very close." Susan observes.
"I guess we are. We go way back. Far back as I can remember. We were babies together. I feel I can tell him anything and it'll be alright," Sayer says, thinking. "I mean, Rob's my brother too, but…he came later, when we were kids, and—Ter and I—we always were special." He closes his eyes letting the wind sweep over him.
"Yes," Susan looks at him, smiling, "I think all three of you are very, very special." She considers the three wandering, shooting stars who had changed not only the lives of the Moon Princess and her dearest circle of friends, but the entire universe for the good, as well, with their devoted search for love...
"Where are they?! What's taking so damn long?!" Alex paces back and forth continually looking out the studio window at the driveway. Michelle and Robin share a smile.
"Don't worry so much, Amara dear. They'll be back soon, I'm sure they're fine." Michelle says as she puts the final touches on her latest watercolor.
"I don't care about them!" The race car driver yells angrily. "It's my car I'm worried about."
"And Sayer can't drive a lick." Robin taunts at his brother's expense, finding it almost as irresistible to tease this female as it is to tease his troublesome brother. Alex spins to face them.
"Susan better have been driving." Alex steams in the corner of the room, looking out the window shades testily.
"Amara, be calm." Michelle giggles at her cousin's tenacity. "There. I'm done." She turns her easel around for them to see. Two brightly shining figures drifting over a peaceful ocean, surrounded in a blue green aura, their arms reaching out to one another, fingertips touching. Though shadowy, the figures were strikingly familiar. Way too familiar for Alex's taste.
For Robin, it was exactly as it was, everything so vivid and dreamy. Their encounter to perfection.
"Beautiful." He whispers in awe.
"I'm glad you like it," Michelle whispers back.
That's just how I saw it, his thoughts connect with hers.
Me, too, her mind answers.
"I'll add it to my exhibition tonight." She says aloud.
Alex studies the two of them, suddenly feeling left out, knowing something was happening between them. That's why I spent my entire morning in here. Michelle needs me, my protection, I swore that to her long ago. I'm not gonna let some shrimp of a man take her away from me, she thinks with conviction.
Just then, she looks out the window and sees her beloved yellow Ferrari pull up in one piece. As fast as the wind, she's out the door.
Busy in the living room composing a surprise song, Terry sees the car as well, and goes out to greet them.
Susan and Sayer step out of the car to see Alex waiting for them.
"Did you take good care of her?" She says, stroking the golden hood.
"Of course, Alex." Susan smiles, her fingers only slightly crossed behind her honest back.
"You drove," The short cropped golden woman says accusingly at them, "right, Susan?"
Sayer holds his breath, waiting for the next response.
"Yes, Alex," Susan tells a small white lie. I did drive…most of the time, she convinces herself.
"Good." Alex says, satisfied. "What are all those?" She points to the full back seat.
"There's more in the trunk, too." Sayer says with a bright teasing smile.
"Just get your junk out of my car." She says, annoyed, going back into the house.
"There is an awful lot here." Terry says, appearing at the automotive's side.
"Well, I didn't know what to get." Sayer says. "So I got everything. Susie helped me pick it all out!" Sayer throws a too familiar arm around his 'big sis.'
Terry smiles that beautiful understanding smile at Sayer.
"Except the underwear! Don't worry, I chose them myself!" And out the window goes all propriety, as the impetuous boy practically shouts the tender tidbit across the open lawn.
"Let's get it all inside." Terry says, shaking his head with a chuckle as he lifts several large boxes from the backseat.
"Yes, we'll help." Susan says as Michelle joins them at the car. They pick up a few small boxes each.
"No, ladies, please," Terry interrupts. "Thank you for your kind offer, but—"
"Let us show off our manliness. We can handle it." Sayer winks at them as he lifts a heavy pile stacked high, carrying them into the house with star-powered ease. On the way he passes Robin, who was standing in the doorway, just watching them.
"Can't we, Rob?" He asks wickedly. All eyes turn to Robin, who flushes in embarrassment in front of Michelle.
"Uh, sure." He pushes aside his dislike of physical exertion and manfully takes a load into the house, if just his own share of the clothing.
Susan and Michelle watch the three young men and smile to each other.
"How nice it feels to be treated like a lady. It is SO rare these days." Michelle remarks haughtily.
"Yes, it is nice." Susan agrees, one gentleman in mind with his tall, slender form and long mahogany ponytail catching the sunlight.
"Once you boys have dressed, let's all get ready to go to Serena's wedding rehearsal." Michelle says with enthusiasm as they follow the Three Lights inside.
"This is what you got me?!" Robin holds up a jacket in disdain, his scratchy, high voice ringing throughout the rural mansion.
"What's wrong with it?" Sayer asks, half-expecting this response.
"It's—it's—it's just not me." He holds it up to his chest.
"What about that dark blue and pink one? I found the same one you used to have, didn't I?" Sayer says angrily.
"Yeah, well, it's the only good one you got." Robin says simply.
"Fine! Get your own clothes next time!" Sayer's temper gets the better of him.
"I think I will." Robin tosses the unwanted hoodie jacket aside with snooty disdain as he goes to the other side of the room to dress alone.
"How about you, Ter?" Sayer asks, now afraid of his choices as he buttons up his own sporty, loose red jacket and tan trousers style.
"Oh, it's all fine." Terry smiles, looking up from where he was quiet and neatly folding their extra clothes into drawers, his dapper orange suit already promptly put on.
"Good." At least I have one friend, Sayer thinks, just dying to stick his tongue out at Robin, who was primping with his silk fuchsia shirt to hang just artfully right in the mirror.
But they were too mature for that now.
Right?
That's when a knock comes to the door.
His sour expression instantly turning upside down, Robin Starr opens it with an uncharacteristic smile, knowing who was on the other side beforehand.
"It's time to go." Her billowy artist's shawl flowing about her divine shoulders, Michelle Moreau peers her head in the door, giving the silver lad a pleased pursed lip look of pure 'ooh-la-la.'