Sailor Moon V
                                    *
                 The Dark Adventures of the Sailor Scouts


                              Episode Eight
                                    *
                          "The Darkness Within"

  <Historian's Note: This episode takes place immediately after the events
  chronicled in the original episode entitled "Something To Remember.">


     Brigadier Sor'en smiled to herself as the canopy of her tactical fighter
closed around her, sealing her off from the outside world.  The flight deck
ahead of her was already cleared, the ramp lights for the number one and three
lanes flashing in the outbound pattern.
     "Flight bridge to Thunder-1, you are cleared to taxi to the number one
boost point," she heard in her helmet.  "Spectre-7, you are cleared to taxi to
the number three boost point."
     Sor'en sighed heavily as she powered up the hover jets and guided her
fighter over to the designated pad.  "Thunder-1 is rolling," she said as she
thumbed her microphone.
     "Spectre-7 is rolling," came the voice of the other pilot.  "Good evening
to you, Brigadier Sor'en."
     "Go away, Chance," she grumbled.
     His soft laughter echoed over the circuit.  "But I thought a lovely lady
such as yourself could use some company on this cruise," Lieutenant Commander
Chance said in his usually charming tone.
     Sor'en rolled her eyes at the darkened sky.  "I have a headache, Chance,
and I'm out here to get away from it all.  Thunder-1 to flight bridge, I am in
position and ready to boost."
     "Spectre-7 is also in position," Chance reported.
     "Copy that, prepare for launch," the duty officer replied.
     Sor'en checked to make sure the thrust-brakes were fully engaged before
she brought her main engines up to flight velocity.  In front of her, a series
of magnetic fields started snapping on in a cascade, starting from the very
end of the carrier's flight deck and making their way towards her fighter.  She
waited until the second-to-last field had energized before she released the
thrust-brake, her fighter surging forward just as the booster field directly
in front of her went active.
     The angled magnetic field grabbed onto her fighter and thrust it forward
into the next screen, which repeated the process down the chain.  The end
result was that the fighter effectively became a railgun projectile, hurling
across the length of the flight deck at a hyper-velocity before being flung
into the depths of the night sky.
     Sor'en breathed as best she could, enjoying the sudden rush of the aerial
launch as only a true pilot could while her lungs become pressed against her
inner organs by the sudden surge of gravity.
     "Spectre-7 to V'ral, we are clear of the flight deck.  Thanks for the
blood rush," the voice in her helmet said as the image of the massive carrier
quickly disappeared from her rear-view monitor.
     "Anytime, Spectre-7.  Be advised that Ghost-4 will be forming up with you
soon and will be your eyes in the sky.  Enjoy the flight, Red Wings.  Carrier
V'ral out."
     The acceleration finally faded to a tolerable level and Sor'en was able
to breathe easy again.  The act of taking off from the airborne carrier never
failed to send a thrill of pure excitement through her blood, and as always it
took her a moment for her senses to reorient themselves to her surroundings.
     "So, my dear," Chance said, his voice oozing charm.  "What's on your mind
this most delightful evening?"
     Sor'en cast an irritated glance over her shoulder.  She could barely make
out the muted running lights of his Spectre-class fighter, lazily formed up on
her wing about two ke'shels away.
     She thumbed her microphone and left the channel open.  "This, that, and
the other, Commander," she said testily, not in much of a mood to put up with
his usual suggestive banter.
     There was a soft chuckle.  "My lady, you know I would like nothing more
than for you to sit down and tell me your troubles.  I am here for you."
     "How kind of you," she grumbled.
     "No, seriously, my wing commander," he said.  "It is a great pleasure to
be serving under you in any capacity, and I would like to continue to do so in
the future."
     There was a faint click in her helmet as another channel was opened on the
same frequency.  <I'll bet you would like to serve under her,> a metallic voice
echoed.  <Especially in bed.>
     Sor'en just sighed as Chance laughed softly to himself.  "Surely you don't
think a gentleman like myself would have dishonorable intentions toward our
most adored wing commander, now do you, Sirene?"
     "Thunder-1 to Ghost-4, so nice of you to join us," Sor'en said dryly.
     <Ghost-4 copies, Wing Commander,> replied the computer-enhanced voice of
Major Sirene.  <Oh, by the way, welcome to Central Division airspace.  We just
crossed the demarcation line ten seconds ago.>
     "Some of us are quite used to crossing lines," Chance replied.
     "Tell me about it," Sor'en muttered.
     <Ever the scoundrel,> Sirene's voice chided.
     Sor'en glanced over her shoulder to see Chance's fighter even with hers,
still two ke'shels away.  She frowned and glanced over her opposite shoulder,
trying to spot the darkened outline of the Ghost-class support aircraft.  The
large swept-wing craft was operated not by conventional controls but by a very
unique psionic interface that allowed the pilot to control it with her mind.
The design made it unsuited to combat but provided excellent flight stability,
making it quite suited to air-traffic control or other less actively hostile
flight profiles.
     "Scoundrel has such a negative connotation to it, my dear," Chance said
in a silken tone.  "I prefer to think of myself as a gentleman with rather
discriminating tastes who has no fear of venturing into the unknown."
     <Like other bedrooms?>
     "I'm wounded, my siren song," Chance said in an exaggerated tone.  "What
could I have possibly done to cause you such grievous injury?"
     "Seduce her for a night and forget about it in the morning, like you've
done with so many others?" Sor'en suggested.
     There was a soft chuckle.  "You know so little of me, Brigadier.  I'll
have you know that I was quite the gentleman with her all weekend long."
     <You were gentle, alright, I'll give you that.>
     Sor'en rolled her eyes.  "I don't need to be hearing this," she sighed.
     "If I didn't know better, Sirene, I would think that you didn't enjoy the
time we shared together," Chance said.
     <I've had better, but I've had far worse,> Sirene admitted.
     Sor'en winced in sympathy for her wingman.  "That was awful cold of you,
Major," she said as she checked her radar display yet again.  Chance's Spectre
barely registered on her sensors, even at this close range, and she still had
yet to even glimpse Sirene's Ghost.  "Where are you, by the way?"
     There was a dry chuckle from the speaker.  "She is right where I would
like to be," Chance said in amusement.
     <Put it like this, Wing Commander,> Sirene's metallic voice said evenly.
<Don't slow down suddenly or you might end up losing your virignity.>
     Chance's laughter echoed in her helmet as Sor'en ignited her afterburners
for a brief moment, doubling her velocity in an instant.  She pulled back hard
on the controls and looped the fighter around, coming to a position roughly
twenty ke'shels behind Chance's fighter.
     "That was classic," Chance said, still laughing.
     "Trying to tell me something, Sirene?" she growled as the finally saw the
broad shape of the Ghost-class support craft.  It had apparently been flying
directly beneath her tail section, not even half a ke'shel away from the ends
of her thrusters.
     <Yes, you need to relax some,> the voice said lightly.
     "I can see explaining this one to your mother now," Chance snickered.
"No, honest, I really did lose it to another woman...."
     Sor'en reached down and armed the missiles slung under the wings of her
tactical fighter.  The seeker heads immediately began scanning for targets,
missing the super-stealthed Ghost entirely and attempting to lock onto the hot
exhaust from the Spectre.
     Spectre-7 reacted immediately, deploying the under-wings and shutting off
the engines completely.  The fighter started to descend into a glide as its
wing-surface essentially doubled.  The engine mount rose up on a track and
swivelled forward, letting the airflow rapidly cool the engines to mask the
heat signature.
     "Hey!" Chance protested as his threat sensors went off.  "That's not very
lady-like, Brigadier.  A Thunderbolt in my exhaust could really ruin both my
evening and your sterling reputation."
     <I don't think it's her reputation you're worried about,> Sirene said
casually as her Ghost aircraft gently cruised higher into the sky.
     "Are you finished, Commander?" Sor'en said, her voice laced with acid.
     There was a soft sigh.  "With you, ma'am.  I still have a few issues to
straighten out with our lovely escort."
     Sor'en disarmed her missiles and slowly increased her forward speed.  She
watched as his engines returned to their normal configuration and ignited,
allowing the Spectre to regain cruising altitude before folding the under-wings
back into their housings.
     <I'm listening.>
     Chance's voice immediately took on a honeyed tone.  "I very much enjoyed
the weekend, my dear Sirene.  It is not every day that a man such as I gets to
see past that mask you wear and gaze upon your true beauty, as well as hear
your sweet melodic voice singing earthly tones in my ear."
     Sor'en blinked hard at the thought.  Sirene's Windslash-class tactical
fighter had been one of twenty aircraft involved in a raid some thirty years
ago as the Renn were making their final stand against Nop'tera's fleet.  Her
aircraft hadn't been shot down so much as blown apart around her and it was a
miracle that she had been recovered alive.
     She knew that Sirene's flight helmet had kept enough pressure on her head
wounds to keep her from fatally bleeding out, but it hadn't been enough to stop
flying debris from almost literaly ripping out her vocal chords and making a
bloody ruin of her eyes.  Surgery could only restore so much, and Sirene ended
up wearing a mask with optical implants and using a vocoder to produce speech.
She refused to accept that such an accident would forever remove her from
flight status, and so after much trial and error the Ghost-class of psionically
enchanced support craft was developed.
     <You're a charmer, Chance, but now you're just kissing up.>
     "I beg your pardon," Chance replied, all traces of humor and coyness gone.
"I am quite serious, Major.  Yes, you have physical damage to your body, but
that doesn't detract one iota from your true beauty.  Scars are badges of honor
to some of us, proof that you have done your duty and been prepared to make the
ultimate sacrifice.  Such noble things may be uncomfortable to you, but a man
such as I looks beyond the physical.  You are a very special woman, my sweet,
and I am very grateful for the special time we shared together, even if you
are not.  What other man has been honest with you before about such things?"
     There was a long silence on the circuit as both Sor'en and Sirene thought
over his words.  Sor'en took the opportunity to gently nudge her fighter
forward until it was flying even with Chance's Spectre, casting a wary eye at
the now almost-invisible outline of the Ghost craft flying high above her.
     "V'ral to Red Wings," the circuit crackled.  "Be advised that radar is
tracking a flight of inbounds heading towards your position.  They are ID'ing
themselves as an escort from the Central Division and state their intentions
as non-hostile."
     Sor'en sighed and thumbed her microphone.  "Thunder-1 copies."
     <Ghost-4 copies, I have them on my scope.  Thanks for the heads-up.>
     "Spectre-7 copies.  Well, isn't that neighborly of them?" he added on the
open circuit.  "And non-hostile, they say, how gentlemanly."
     <Non-hostile doesn't always equate with friendly,> Sirene observed dryly.
     "Tell me about it," Sor'en muttered.  "Sirene, what do they look like?"
     <One second....  Flight of four, starting to look like Guardian-class,>
the major reported.  <Light on the ground weapons, distinctly heavier on the
aerial weapons.  They're too far away for a definite scan, but I'm not picking
up any signs of poppers.>
     "That's always a relief," Chance observed dryly.  Poppers were usually
small thermonuclear or fusion weapons, which as a rule were never loaded onto
tactical aircraft unless they were prepared to be used.
     The report of the V'ral having been briefly targeted by a particle-wave
cannon suddenly came to Sor'en's mind and she frowned.  "Keep a very hard eye
on them anyway," she ordered.  "I don't care if they're an escort or not, I
don't want them anywhere near the carrier."
     <Acknowledged, Wing Commander.>
     "That's a bit harsh, now, isn't it?" Chance observed as his Spectre-class
fighter dipped to the right, putting some space between the aircraft.  "Or are
you concerned that they might be trying to pull a fast one?"
     She cast a quick glance out of her cockpit.  "And you're not?"
     "Of course I am, my most glorious wing commander," he said in a honeyed
tone.  "However, I have a bit of faith in our aerial brethren over there to
have the good grace to behave.  Put yourself in their position, wouldn't you
send up an armed escort to keep a casual eye on us?  And with the very clear
instruction not to overly piss off the carrier again?" he added lightly.
     <He has a point, for once,> Sirene observed with a note of humor in her
metallic voice.  <I'm not sure I agree with the message your mother sent the
other day, but I believe the point was sufficiently made.>
     If that's the case, Sor'en thought darkly, why did someone try to crater
the carrier from orbit?  "Your opinions are noted," she said over the circuit.
"I still want them kept them away from the carrier regardless."
     "Understood, ma'am," Chance replied smoothly.  "Sirene, my dear, how long
until we're in intercept range?  The fighters, not you and I," he added with
an obvious smile in his voice.
     <Twelve minutes,> the metallic voice replied dryly.
     "Chance, do you never let it rest?" Sor'en sighed as she briefly rubbed
the bridge of her nose.
     There was a soft chuckle from the speaker.  "That all depends, my dear.
It has to rest between rounds of passion and pleasure, but I try to make sure
that the fun never compeletely stops."
     <Brigadier Sor'en, you have my permission to shoot him down,> Sirene said
casually.  <I won't say anything to anyone.>
     "Shoot what down, his fighter, his mouth, or his ego?" Sor'en muttered.
     <All three, please?> the computer-enhanced voice replied.
     "Ladies, please," Chance chuckled.  "I can't help it if I find indulging
in such verbal play is almost as entertaining and as satisfying as making love
to a most delightful woman.  Like our most illustrious Major here...."
     "Commander, if you don't quit bragging, I WILL shoot you down," Sor'en
growled flatly.
     There was a slight pause from the speaker.  "Sor'en, I don't mean to be a
thorn in your shapely backside, but what exactly has you so edgy tonight?" he
said in a quiet tone.  "You're usually not like this."
     <Indeed, Wing Commander,> Sirene observed as she angled her Ghost into a
higher flight path.  <Would it be reasonable to presume that some matter of
importance is weighing upon you?>
     There was more silence on the speaker before Chance spoke up again.  "If
I may be so bold, my dear, I would like to point out that both myself and our
mentally gifted escort are very much here for you should you desire to talk
about things.  As with all such conversations that take place way up here, you
know that whatever happens to be said will remain between us and the celestial
beauties that dot these darkened skies."
     Sor'en grunted quietly.  "Your poetry needs a little work, Commander, but
the sentiment is appreciated."
     <I like his poetry,> Sirene protested.  <At least when it's in the proper
setting and context.>
     "Why thank you, Major," Chance cooed quietly.  "Surely you realize that
such words can only be inspired by the company I keep.  And I should like to
point out, Wing Commander, that sometimes company can have quite the calming
and relaxing effect on the mind, body, and spirit."
     "You're depressing me, Commander," she said in a faintly edged tone.
     A soft sigh was heard across the circuit.  "Very well, my dear, I shall
seal my lips for the moment.  Preferably to Sirene's lips, of course, but all
in due time," he said gently.
     <The inbounds are five minutes out,> Sirene warned.  <Sensors confirm no
poppers present, and at the moment they don't have any scanning or targeting
systems activated.>
     "Okay, so maybe they are going to play nice tonight," Sor'en mused.  "I
still want a wide buffer between them and the V'ral.  What's their current
flight profile look like?"
     <Standard paired-intercept formation, their velocity is consistent with
the cruising speed of Guardians.  All four look to be equipped with orbital
booster units, but they don't appear to be in any big rush to make contact,>
she observed.
     "Orbital boosters?" Sor'en wondered aloud. "What for?"
     <They have several uses,> Sirene reminded her.  <The first is obvious, to
help achieve a low planetary orbit.  Another use, however, and one that is not
exactly very common, is as a combination hyper-booster array and external fuel
tanks.  The array is a moderate hindrance if you need to take any radical or
serious evasive action, as the tail module has to be folded down before they
can be mounted, so I don't think they're up here to pick a fight.  If I had to
make an educated guess, I'd say that they're using them more for the extra fuel
capacity than the boost ability.>
     "Perhaps we should be nice and introduce ourselves to them?" Chance asked
lightly.  "Just so there are no early misunderstandings?"
     Sor'en pondered it for a moment before shrugging.  "What the hell, it's
worth a shot," she said as she dialed open a broadcast frequency.  "This is
Brigadier Sor'en of the Imperial Red Wings, hailing the Guardian flight.  You
are on an intercept path to our carrier, please identify yourselves, over."
     There was a slight burst of static from the speaker.  "Hail, Red Wings,
this is Guardian-3 of the Central Division Air Command.  We are ordered to
provide aerial escort to your carrier until it reaches the Imperial Castle.
Please advise on a suitable flight path and arrangement, over."
     "Straight down to the ground like a brick, heading back to your own base?"
Chance suggested casually over the Red Wing circuit.
     Sor'en blinked at the unexpected comment and chuckled, ignoring the harsh
burst of electronic static caused by Sirene's laughter briefly overloading her
vocoder.  "And here I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman, Chance," she
teased her wingman.
     "I thought that was a rather polite response, to be honest," Chance said
with an audible grin.  "Or would you have preferred I had used language that
would have made your chief mechanic wince?"
     "It's the thought that counts, Commander.  Major, you can handle this as
you're the one with the traffic-control authority," Sor'en added.
     <Copy,> Sirene replied as she switched circuits.  <Guardian-3, this is
Ghost-4.  Your flight is advised to come around to bearing two-six-eight and
match altitude.  You may assume a port-and-starboard positioning, but you are
required to maintain a one-mile separation distance from the flight deck as we
have operations pending, over.>
     "Guardian-3 copies flight instructions and pattern limitations," the other
pilot replied crisply.  "Central Division Air Command sends their regards, and
welcome to Central Division airspace.  Guardian flight out."
     "Well, that was painless," Chance mused.
     Sor'en shrugged inside her cockpit.  "You were expecting an incident?"
     "My dearly beloved wing commander," he said, his voice oozing charm, "It
has always been my personal philosophy in this mortal existence to try to make
love instead of war, but to remain thoroughly prepared for both at all times."
     <That's probably the first smart thing he's said all week,> Sirene said
with a quiet chuckle.  <The Guardians are splitting up and changing course.
They look to be coming around to an inverted-heart intercept pattern, still at
cruising speed.  If they maintain their flight path and cooperate, they will
form up off the V'ral's beams in ten minutes.>
     "Go ahead and advise the carrier," Sor'en ordered.  "Don't need them to
get their shorts in a knot."
     <Copy, Wing Commander.>
     "Speaking of unknotting one's shorts, Brigadier...." Chance said slowly.
     "You're not sleeping with me, Chance, so forget it," she said sternly.
     There was a slight pause on the circuit.  "I beg your pardon, my dear,
but I had no such intentions.  I was merely attempting to prod my leading lady
into relaxing a touch and perhaps aiding in the removal of whatever weight you
have burdening your chest."
     Sor'en sighed heavily.  "Don't you ever give it a rest, Chance?"
     <Not this one again,> Sirene said sullenly.
     "Would you feel better if you were on top next time, Major?" he asked in
a casual tone.  "I would be more than willing to accomodate you...."
     <That's a pretty blatant assumption, Commander.>
     "Do I have to shoot both of you out of the sky?" Sor'en demanded.
     "Of course not, Wing Commander," Chance replied in a neutral tone.  "With
your permission, I shall go ensure that our fellow airmen from the Central
Division are doing as they agreed.  Spectre-7 out."
     Sor'en blinked as Chance's fighter banked to the right and curved away in
a graceful turn.  "Sirene...." she said slowly over the open circuit.
     <Don't look at me, I don't understand him either,> the metallic voice
replied.  <Not that I blame him one bit, though, you are in a mood tonight and
apparently don't care for the present company.>
     Sor'en sighed.  "I warned him earlier, you know."
     <Repeatedly,> Ghost-4 assured her.  <Now then, do you feel any better, or
should I let you sulk on your own?>
     The brigadier blinked hard.  "You're out of line, Major."
     There was a muffled snort from the other end of the channel.  <I doubt
you'll put us on report for being concerned about you, Wing Commander.  He's
right, you're usually not this tempermental when flying.>
     Sor'en sighed and gazed out at the landscape far below, only partially
visible beneath the patchwork-quilt of low-level clouds.  "You ever see any of
this world before?" she asked, keeping a trained eye on her instruments as she
examined the environment around her.  "Seen any constellations in this world's
sky?  Or got a good look at that moon over there?"
     <No, but I have been looking around,> the metallic voice assured her.
<This world isn't very different from the Renn's homeworld.  Okay, so the sun
is red and the atmosphere is more purple than blue, but the air doesn't smell
any different to me.  At least, not from the flight deck.  I sense that you
haven't asked the question that's really bothering you.>
     Sor'en reached down and shifted her Thunder-class fighter into stealthed
cruise mode, drastically expanding the wing surfaces while idling the engines
down to a mere whisper.  Her velocity dropped by nearly half as she started to
tilt to one side, her flight profile now more sensitive to thermal currents in
the air around her.
     "What's your idea of home, Sirene?" she asked quietly as she leveled the
fighter and settled into a very shallow glide, using her thermal sensors to
scan for an updraft to maintain altitude without resorting to thrusters.  A
large heat bloom to her right looked promising, and so she banked her gliding
aircraft towards it.
     <Truthfully?> the psionicist replied.  <My quarters on the V'ral.  I know
it sounds a bit pathetic, but I've been with the Red Wings ever since I was of
age to join.  Not that I had many options, really, being a denizen born to
military parents while on the proverbial road to victory in another world, but
I don't have any regrets.>
     Sor'en thought about it carefully as she felt a surge beneath her wings,
the thermal lifting her up higher into the cold night air.  "So do you think
you'll be able to make yourself comfortable in this world?" she inquired.
     <Not at first.  We all come from the same blood and we might be able to
speak the same language, assuming we didn't warp the accent in three thousand
years.  But we're used to our own society, our own culture and ways of doing
things.  Adjusting won't be easy in the least, and I for one don't think that
everyone will be able to cope with it.>
     "So what are you going to do?" she asked idly as she leaned back in her
seat, trying to relax.  She looked up above her as a swath of darkness was cut
from the glittering sea of twinkling stars, the invisible outline of Sirene's
Ghost support craft blocking the dim light.
     <I honestly haven't thought much about it,> Sirene replied after a moment
of silence.  <I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens.  I don't
expect everything to be changed in a day, of course, simply for logistical
reasons if nothing else.  But if things do change, I'll just go with the flow
like everyone else in this division has done as of late.>
     A gentle sense of peace surrounded her as the speaker fell silent and she
continued to glide through the air, only needing to make minor adjustements to
her flight profile every now and then.  "What about Chance?" she asked on an
impulse.
     <I don't know, Sor'en,> the metallic voice replied, sounding tired.  <He
certainly has a way with words, or at least I think so.  He really made me feel
special those nights we were together.  Yes, I know he is an absolute rogue,
but there's just something about him that I can't pin down.... or seem to let
go of,> she admitted.  <Just between you and me?  I think I would honestly try
to keep him for myself if I thought he could be kept on a leash, but you know
how he is.>
     Sor'en grunted quietly to herself.  "Isn't it still worth a try?" she
asked absently as her fighter slowly tilted to the left.
     There was a long pause from the speaker before Sirene's metalic voice was
heard again.  <Are you asking me, Wing Commander, or are you really asking
yourself that question about whatever it is that is bothering you?> she said
quietly.
     The question drew a hard blink of realization from the brigadier.  She
thought about it for a few moments before sighing softly.  "As always, Sirene,
your level of insight can be truly disturbing sometimes," she observed.
     <As Chance tried to point out earlier, we are here for you when you need
someone to talk to,> Sirene replied calmly.  <Bearing back to the carrier is
zero-nine-nine from your present course.  Pleasant evening, Wing Commander.
Ghost-4 out.>
     Sor'en said nothing as the invisible shadow above her seemed to drift to
the right before disappearing completely, revealing the thin red crescent of
the Negaverse's second moon, simply called the Moon of Blood.  Mother's moon,
she thought to herself, wondering what sort of influence it might have on the
group of denizens who had, willingly or unwillingly, been subjected to her
mother's vampiric hunger.
     I guess we will find out, she mused as she ramped her thrusters back up
to flight velocity and returned her fighter's configuration to normal.  The
soft roaring in her ears was both strange and familiar, an unnatural sound
disturbing the veil of peace that only seemed to envelop her when she was out
flying.  And I guess that, yes, it is worth trying to see for ourselves what
is going to happen, and what this world is going to be like....
     The Thunder-class aircraft tilted to one side as it banked around and
headed back to the carrier that was home to both the aircraft and the pilot.

                *               *               *               *

     Susan looked up from her magazine as a middle-aged man in a very sharp
business suit walked up to her.  "Miss... Meow, is it?" he asked quietly with
a very steep London accent.
     "Meiou," she corrected him as she rose to her feet, her own voice taking
on a soft but distinct British accent.  "There's been a fair amount of Japanese
influence on my ancestry."
     "My apologies," he replied.  "Edgar Bloom, Esquire.  The floor manager has
told me about the nature of your visit, but I'm afraid I've missed the boat on
the exact substance of the request."
     Susan smiled gently.  "The short story is that I've become an heiress to
a few disturbingly well-kept family secrets, and one of them happens to be a
lock-box kept in one of your vaults.  I should like to examine its contents,
but I understand it might no longer be available given its age."
     "Ah, so that's it," he mused.  "Michael had me thrown for quite a loop
when he was talking about an account that dates back almost two hundred years.
We do have a number of.... well, relics, if you'll pardon the phrase, still
stored in the basement vault, and one of the might indeed be yours."
     She nodded her head in understanding.  "I should hope so," she said as she
held up an iron key.  "I would rather not think that this key had been passed
down in my family for generations for naught."
     He blinked as he focused his gaze on the key.  "May I?" he asked as he
gestured to the key.  She handed it to him and he withdrew a small magnifying
glass from his pocket, peering intently at the markings cut into the edges.
     "Bloody marvelous," he breathed quietly as he glanced up.  "Your family
certainly has taken good care of this.  I can still make out the box number and
the original vault code.  Thirty-seven-H, vault twenty-three.  Hmm, that most
definitely sounds like one of ours....  Madam, would you be so kind as to come
with me?"
     "But of course," Susan replied with a faint smile.  She was wearing one
of the more popular styles of 'power suits' for business women, giving the
impression of being moderately successful in her endeavors.  Her dark green
hair was pinned up in a tight bun, only adding to the impression that she was
well on her way to achieving a degree of nobility in English society.
     He led her through a small rabbit warren of cubicles, each one occupied
by a minor official dealing with the countless business transactions that an
international bank like this one went through on a daily basis.  He paused in
front of one and stuck his head in, waving his hand to get the attention of a
rather elderly gentleman conversing on the telephone.  The man nodded back in
understanding before refocusing on his call and typing away on the computer
located in the corner of his desk.
     "This way, please," Mr. Bloom said as he ushered her across the room and
into a rather tastefully decorated office.  "Please, have a seat, James will
be with us in a moment," he said as he gestured to one of the leather chairs.
     "Thank you," Susan replied graciously as she sat down.
     "So if I may ask, Ms. Meiou, what do you do for a living?" he inquired as
he turned to the computer on his desk and accessed the historical archives,
occasionally glancing at the engravings on the key.
     "Small business administration," Susan replied.  "Nothing on a scale as
grand as this bank, of course, but I've managed to make a reasonable profit for
all of my clients."
     He nodded as he waited patiently for the computer to retrieve the records
he was looking for.  "Jolly good.  Just between you and me, young lady, I am
quite pleased to see more women such as yourself at the helm of businesses and
corporations these days.  And, I might add, doing a right smashing good job of
things.  Ah, do you by chance happen to know who initially signed for this
particular lock-box?"
     "Let me see...." she said slowly as she glanced up at the ceiling for a
moment.  "I believe it was Countess Marie D'Avenant of Eldevier, but I could be
wrong.  The family legends aren't what they used to be," she added with a hint
of a blush.
     He chuckled quietly.  "You're quite right, it seems.  A number of years
ago we went through all the old paper records in the archives and had them
analyzed by all this digital gadgetry.  According to this report, your lock-box
was indeed chartered two-hundred and six years ago by one Marie D'Avenant, and
with quite unusual instructions about its retrieval...."
     There was a soft knock at the door as the elderly man poked his head in.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Bloom?" he said in a deep, gravelly voice.
     Mr. Bloom looked up from his terminal.  "James, old boy, you're going to
be floored by this one.  Our lady guest here has come forward to lay claim to
one of the lock-boxes we have in the basement."
     James nodded his head.  "So what's the Alfred Hitchcock?"
     Mr. Bloom chuckled quietly.  "The surprise twist to the story, believe
this or not, is that the box is one of the antique Steel Pete's.  Number 37H,
to be precise."
     "Surely you jest," James replied, blinking hard and looking at Susan.
     "It appears to be a well-kept family secret that only came to light after
an aunt passed away and left me the key in her will," Susan replied.
     "Bloody amazing," James observed.  "Very well, I shall go retrieve it at
once.  I may need a small lorry to haul it up here if it's one of the bigger
ones, however," he cautioned.
     Mr. Bloom nodded.  "In that case, just send a ringer up here and we'll
come down to it instead."
     "Jolly good," James replied and withdrew, muttering something to himself.
     Susan smiled to herself as her hearing picked up most of the comment.  "I
don't believe he's overly thrilled about this one," she observed.
     He chuckled quietly.  "The old Steel Pete's have been known to weigh a
right hideous amount, depending on the size and what was stored in them.  We
had a safe stored here a number of years ago, filled to the brim with platinum
and gold ingots.  We had to empty it out completely before we could even move
it to the other side of the vault, and even then we had to replace a lift that
gave out on us halfway through the evolution.  Bloody heavy beasts, the Steel
Pete's, but utterly secure."
     "I should imagine so," Susan said demurely.
     He looked back at the computer screen and furrowed his brow.  "I must
confess that this is probably the most unusual case I've seen all my years of
working for this bank," he admitted.  "There are instructions here that are
quite explicit about how to go about determining who can open this."
     Susan nodded.  "The story is that my ancestor wanted to make quite sure
that the contents were only given to someone who was directly related to her,
and that proof of identity would need to be rendered beforehand."
     "Quite right," he confirmed.  "There are three criteria.... well, four if
you count physical possession of the key.  First, the supplicant has to be a
woman, which I believe is quite obviously not an issue.  The second is that she
has to have dark green hair.... that's quite unusual, as I thought that all
this hair color stuff was a recent development.  Sounds like someone has been
reading a particular Sherlock Holmes story, what?" he quipped, giving her a
slightly amused look.
     Susan gave him a reassuring smile.  "There has been dark green hair in my
family for countless generations.  I'm led to believe that my ancestor might
have been the first of her family to have the rare coloring, but it has been
quite dominant in the female bloodline since."
     He shrugged in dismissal.  "Well, that certainly doesn't seem to be an
issue in this case.  The third criteria, however, is that a star-shaped mark
must be present somewhere on the body."
     A delicate blush rose to Susan's face.  "I do possess such a birthmark,
but it is in a rather.... less-than-visible location," she said demurely.
     "Oh?" he inquired as his eyebrows rose up.  "If you like, I believe I can
accept a notarized letter from your personal physician attesting that such a
mark is indeed in existence."
     "No, that's quite alright," Susan said quietly as she stood up, a soft
smile tugging on her lips.  She walked over to his office door and closed it
gently, crossing the room to sit on the edge of his desk next to him.
     He blinked hard.  "Miss Meiou," he said nervously, "I am a professional
and there are ethical rules...."
     "I know you are," she said quietly as she unbuttoned her blouse.  "Which
is why I have faith that you're not going to act inappropriately."  She opened
her blouse and lifted up the cup of her black-lace bra, baring her breast and
the small star-shaped freckle below her hardened nipple.
     His face flushed a dark red as he briefly examined the freckle.  Susan
couldn't help smiling to herself as she noticed his attention wandering back
and forth between the freckle and her nipple.  "You can take a closer look at
it if you want," she said in a quiet but subtle tone, taking a deep breath to
expand her chest.  "Just to make sure that everything is quite real and that
the location isn't a deliberate distraction.  I don't mind...."
     He visibly hesitated for a moment before he shook his head.  "No, no," he
stammered.  "That's quite alright, I have no reason to doubt their reality."
     She nodded and slowly eased her breast back into the confines of the bra,
taking slightly longer than was necessary before rebuttoning her blouse.  "I
trust I've proven my identity well enough?" she said lightly as she ran her
hands over her blouse before resuming her seat in the leather chair.
     He glanced at her chest for a split-second before shaking his head to
himself, his face still flushed with embarassment.  "Oh, yes, yes, quite so.
In fact, Miss Meiou, you may wish to pay a visit the Office of Genealogy, as
you might be in a position to lay claim to your ancestor's hereditary title of
Countess of Eldevier."
     Susan shook her head.  "That already belongs to a distant cousin, I'm
afraid, but I believe I am fourteenth in line at the moment for the title."
     "Ah, well," Mr. Bloom said with a faint cough as he tried to refocus on
his computer screen.  "As soon as James returns with the lock-box, we can have
a go at opening it.  Oh, that must be him," he added as there was a hard knock
on the door.  He quickly got up and crossed the room to open it, oblivious to
the look of amusement on Susan's face at his dignified haste.
     "Not as heavy as it looks," James said as he wheeled a small push-cart
into the room.  "It was a bit dusty, but I've taken the liberty of running a
cloth along it and squirting the lock with grease.  Let me know if you have a
problem opening it and I'll fetch a locksmith."
     "Splendid work, James," Mr. Bloom beamed.  "Thank you so much."
     "A pleasure, Mr. Bloom," James replied.  "The look on old Martha's face
alone when I told her what I was trying to get from her precious vault was
well worth the effort.  Here's the bank keys," he added as he held up a large
ring of antique iron keys that had been well-maintained over the decades.
     "Marvelous," Mr. Bloom chuckled to himself.  "I might have to return them
to the old dragon myself, just to hear her fuss about it.  Thank you, James,
jolly good work as always."
     "Good day, Mr. Bloom.  And a good day to you, Miss," he added.
     "Thank you," Susan replied as she stood up and walked over to the cart.
     The steel lock-box was roughly the size of a large unabridged dictionary,
the metal tarnished with age.  The locking mechanism appeared to be in decent
condition, a thin sheen of lubricating oil visible around the edges.  "Well
then, shall we see what's inside?" Mr. Bloom said brightly as he passed her the
customer key and picked up the ring of bank keys, sorting through them one by
one until he found the matching key.  "Yours on the left, mine on the right,
both have to be turned in unison.  Ready?" he added as he inserted his key.
     "Of course," Susan replied as she slid her key into the slot.
     "Right then, a full quarter-turn to the left on the count of three, if you
please.... one, two, three!"
     Both keys were turned at the same instant and the lock popped open with a
heavy click.  Mr. Bloom very slowly lifted the lid, his eyes burning with mild
curiosity and wonder at what could possibly be inside that had lain dormant for
over two hundred years.
     Susan smiled gently at his obvious state of excitement.  She, of course,
knew exactly what should be in there, as she had made the deposit herself one
idle day during a time-travelling expedition.  The nature of time-travel made
it far easier to set up an event eight centuries into the future than to try
to change something two hundred years in the past, and so as a precautionary
measure she had long ago set aside minor fortunes in very safe locations.
     "Bloody hell," Mr. Bloom breathed as he set the lid aside and examined
the sheaf of yellowed papers inside.  Several small black velvet bags were in
one corner, each bulging at the seams with various types of coins and small
gemstones.  "This is incredible!  Those look like Spanish doubloons, and I'll
shave my head if those aren't pieces-of-eight coins!" he babbled excitedly.
He looked up at her with wide eyes.  "Dear lady, this has to be worth an
incredible fortune here!"
     Susan's eyebrows arched up to her hairline.  "Surely you jest, sir!" she
protested incredulously.  "My aunt swore on her life that the only things in
this lock-box were old family heirlooms and souvenirs, things with sentimental
but little other value...."
     "Wait, wait," he said quietly as he brought his magnifying glass out and
examined the topmost piece of paper.  "This here is a bond note, stamped with
the sovereign seal of the King of England....  That this note, marked with the
royal crest, shall serve as a deed of debt upon the crown, and that all monies
and interests accumulated by the passage of time shall be paid in full whence
redeemed by the Royal Exchequer....  Dear God, do you know how valuable this
has become?  It is over two hundred years old!" he gasped.
     "Mr. Bloom, perhaps you should sit down and explain this to me?" Susan
suggested, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder.  "I am a business woman and
am quite familiar with economics, but I must confess I am not as educated about
the more subtle nuiances of non-liquid commodities and hard currencies."
     He breathed deeply as he walked over and sat down hard in his chair, his
eyes slightly wide.  "One moment, please," he said quietly as he picked up the
phone and dialed a four-digit number.  "This is Edgar Bloom, I need an armed
security guard in my office.  Oh, no, it's nothing like that, I just need an
escort for some valuables, that's all.  Right, thank you," he added before
hanging up.
     "Miss Meiou...." he said slowly.
     "Please, call me Susan," she replied with a warm smile.
     "Very well, Susan," he said, still breathing deep.  "I will have to have
someone independantly verify a few things for me, but you are apparently now a
substantially wealthy woman."
     Susan let her eyebrows arch up again.  "By how much?" she asked, mentally
doing a few compounded-interest equations in her mind and reaching a sum that
would put a smile on anybody's face.  "I am already a woman of comfortable
means, but a little extra is always something to savor."
     He let out his breath quietly.  "You will have to settle the Inheritance
Tax with the Treasury, of course, and I am far from knowledgeable in the exact
value of those coins and gems, but I would put it in the range of somewhere
between three and seven hundred million pounds.  Before taxes, mind you," he
added with a sobering look.  "The after-tax value should be between two and
five hundred million."
     Susan nearly fell out of her chair in shock, having figured the value was
far less than that.  "Are you serious?" she said as her jaw sagged open, her
reaction entirely unscripted for once.  "Between a quarter and a half BILLION
pounds?"
     "As I said, I will have to have a few qualified and trusted professionals
assay the value of the contents of the lock-box first, but I am confident that
it will pan out to be a very tidy sum," he said.
     Susan blinked hard, realizing that she had seriously underestimated the
value of this particular reserve account.  "Mr. Bloom...."
     He smiled at her.  "Please, you may call me Edgar, if you wish."
     She smiled back warmly.  "Thank you.  I have to say this is a bit of a
broadside salvo for me.  I only returned to England for my aunt's funeral and
will be flying back to Japan soon, so I am at a bit of a loss to think of how
I would be able to deal with this at the present."
     "Well...." he said slowly.  "This isn't a simple matter of making a lump
sum deposit into an account.  These items have to be appraised first, and then
if you so desire, a buyer found willing to purchase them.  Cashing out the
bonds should be the simplest matter, but that will still take a fair amount to
fully authenticate and liquidate.  Again, only if you so desire to."
     Susan stood up and started to slowly pace the room, her face a mask of
deep concentration.  "I take it this means I'm going to need someone with a
power of attorney to oversee things?" she said in a slightly weary tone.
     He nodded.  "Yes, I believe you will if you will be leaving the country
soon.  Perhaps you have a relative here you could trust?"
     She blinked and gave him a stunned look.  "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered,
her country accent momentarily thickening.  "I'm not sure I want any of this to
be made public just yet.  I need to do a bit of legal research about my aunt's
will and family heirlooms, as this might not be solely mine.  And having a few,
shall we say, less-than-savory branches on the family tree, I would rather not
have anyone trying to attempt a legal looting before this is sorted out."
     "I understand perfectly," he assured her.  "You can rely upon us for the
utmost discretion, as that is one of the principles this bank was founded on."
     She smiled and visibly relaxed.  "I know, I think that's why my ancestor
went with you in the first place," she replied.  She sighed and looked towards
the shuttered window, tiny ribbons of light playing across her face.  "Would it
be possible to have a sort of estate-trust established to oversee this for the
present?  I will, of course, endeavor to return to England as soon as I am able
to in order to manage it myself, but it could be quite some time."
     "I believe that setting up such a trust would be a fairly simple matter,"
he explained as he turned to his computer and called up several documents.  "In
fact, I can even lay out the groundwork for that this very afternoon.  You will
need to find someone you trust to serve as an executive, however."
     She turned from the window and gave him a soft smile.  "I think I already
have found someone I can trust with this," she said lightly.
     He looked up at her and blinked hard.  "Madam, surely you don't mean me,"
he protested.
     She shrugged gently.  "You are a certified account manager, I believe, as
well as a respected gentleman in the financial community.  Besides, I am quite
serious about keeping the knowledge of this rather substantial windfall as
quiet as possible."
     He blinked hard again.  "I'm not sure the rules will allow me to oversee
a private account like that," he hedged.
     "You would know more than I would," she replied.  "If they do not, surely
you would know someone in the region whom you or your bank would feel would be
a suitably trustworthy and knowledgeable individual to handle matters."
     He sat back as his breath left his lungs in a soft exodus.  "What you ask
is not a trivial matter, Miss Meiou," he warned.
     "Susan," she corrected with a gentle smile.  "And yes, I understand the
depth of trust behind such a request.  I am a business woman, after all, and I
would think that I would be able to recognize an honest man when I see one,"
she added lightly.  "The mere fact that you have yet to even show any interest
as to the question of compensation for your time managing such a trust speaks
volumes in my book.  Most other people would have eagerly inquired about the
matter by this point."
     She walked over to his desk and sat down on the edge again, a soft smile
on her lips.  "I realize it is probably quite cavalier to walk into your bank,
access an account that has lain dormant for two centuries, discovery a literal
fortune inside, and then just leave it in your hands while I fly back halfway
around the globe for an undetermined amount of time."
     "Madam, cavalier is not the word I would use," he admitted bluntly.
     "As I said before, I am already a woman of comfortable means," she said
slowly.  "I run a business, manage several accounts, and quite understand the
value of money.  This has been quite unexpected, and at this point I am not
prepared to independently deal with it.  As such, I have no choice but to seek
outside help and experience.  You have struck me as being quite an experienced
and professional financial manager, and both my ancestor and my aunt apparently
felt quite comfortable with the level of service and trust this bank has given
them.  I will, of course, understand if you don't feel comfortable with this
situation, but I have no reason to doubt either their faith or my own in both
you and this institution's ability to safeguard and manage my assets with the
utmost integrity."
     It took several long seconds for Edgar to find his voice.  "Madam, I sit
before you in awe," he said quietly.  "Phrased in such a way, I have no choice
but to accept your request with the sincerest humility."
     She smiled and patted his hand lightly.  "I've learned over the years to
trust what my instincts tell me about people," she said demurely as she stood
up and walked over to the push-cart.  "I will, of course, leave instructions
as detailed as possible about how to manage these," she said as she picked up
a single gold dubloon.  "But I also know that micro-managing is not the best
way of ensuring your will and desires are executed accordingly.  Tell me, your
rules don't permit personal gifts, do they?"
     He shook his head.  "No, they don't."
     She smiled and walked back over to him.  "I suspected as much.  Here," she
said as she placed the ancient coin in his hand.  "If you yourself are unable
to accept gifts of gratitude, then perhaps the bank itself can?" she suggested
as his eyes widened.  "If nothing else, it can be kept on guarded display in
the lobby.  Think of it as a small gift of prestige, a token of repayment for
your vigilance in guarding my ancestor's wealth."
     "Madam...." he breathed, utterly speechless.
     She chuckled quietly at his reaction as she moved back over to her chair.
"There is one small matter I would like to have taken care of before I have to
fly back to Japan," she said carefully.  "Seeing how I have found myself in
possession of more money than I know what to do with, at least for the moment,
would it be possible to set up an account here and secure a line of credit to
take care of any immediate financial requirements I might encounter?"
     He looked up at her in surprise.  "Surely you must be joking," he said
with a faint smile.  "I can have an account set up in ten minutes for you if
you like, and believe me when I say that the contents of that lock-box would
more than definitely be sufficient as collateral for any loans."
     She nodded in understanding.  "So how large a line of credit, if I may?"
     He paused and took a sobering breath.  "As I said earlier, what you have
cannot very easily or quickly be liquidated.  The bonds should be, once they
are properly authenticated, but I honestly don't forsee any great difficulty
in that.  I'm afraid I will have to limit any line of credit to seven digits,"
he said with a slight air of apology.  "At least until we get a more solid
estimate of the true net value."
     Susan blinked at his casual offer.  "I don't believe I should be needing
immediate access to several million pounds," she protested with a faint smile.
She quickly reworked the numbers in her mental workbook and recalculated the
results.  "Two-hundred and fifty thousand should suffice, but I will probably
end up wiring the bulk of the funds to a bank in Japan where I can manage it
easier.  Do you by any chance have any recommendations?" she asked on impulse.
     "In Japan?" he mused, thinking carefully.  "We do regular and frequent
business with a few institutions over there, so I'm sure I could get you the
name and contact information for one of their more respected agents.  Do you
mind if I inquire about your intent for the account over there?"
     "My aunt's will contained a number of requests that were non-binding, and
I think that I would like to see them executed," she explained.  "One of them
is setting up a series of college and trust funds for several friends of the
family that were dear to her.  She specified they were non-binding because she
knew her estate wasn't sufficient to provide the requirements.  At least, she
didn't believe her estate was sufficient," she added.
     He nodded in understanding and started typing away on his computer.  "Ah,
I see.  In that case, I think I know who I can direct you to.  Never met the
man myself, mind you, but he is regarded as highly trustworthy over here.  I'll
be sure to give you his information before we're done here.  Ah, yes," he said
as there was a knock on his door and a uniformed security guard walked in.
     "This needs to be secured, sir?" he asked with a gesture to the lock-box.
     "Not just yet, my good man, but please don't let anyone else near it,"
he instructed the guard.  "Aside from myself and Miss Meiou here, of course.
Now, my dear, I presume you wish to dive right into all this bloody paperwork
we have to suffer through now?"
     Susan smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye.  "There's no time like the
present," she murmured as they both settled in for a very long afternoon.

                *               *               *               *

     The entire upper half of Darian's body came up off of the recliner as the
sound of a scream registered on his brain, piercing the shroud of dreamy fog
that, until moments ago, had him smiling in his sleep.  His conscious mind woke
up a half-second later, but was suddenly pre-empted by the searing feeling of
pain as of four sets of claws dug into his chest.  He reflexively grabbed the
panicked kitten as she tried to keep her balance, a distant part of his mind
realizing that he was now bleeding in roughly twenty different places.
     "Sorry," he said hastily as he stood up, none-too-gently tossing her in
the empty chair and rushing across the room to his bedroom door.  He paused to
listen and was about to knock when he heard another scream, followed by the
sound of Michelle's urgent voice calling Alex's name.
     He opened the door without hesitation and charged inside, coming to a
sharp halt as he saw Alex writhing around on the bed in a frenzy.  Michelle
was trying to rouse her from the nightmare, one hand keeping the sheet tucked
under her chin while she shook the blonde's shoulder hard.  "Alex, wake up!"
she pleaded.  She looked up at Darian's entrance, her eyes wide.  "Darian, do
something, she's not waking up...."
     He quickly crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing both
of Alex's wrists as she flailed around.  "Alex, snap out of it!" he shouted,
surprised by the strength of her resistance.  "Alex!"
     "Get away from me!" Alex cried out.  Her eyes were open but not focused,
glazed over from a terror only she could see.  "Get your hands off of me!"
     "Alex, wake up!" Michelle sobbed as she shook her again.
     Darian made a quick decision and let go of one wrist, drawing his hand
back to deliver a sharp slap to the blonde's cheek.  She rocked to one side
from the blow, her whole body suddenly going as limp as a rag doll.
     "Darian!" Michelle gasped, her eyes wide with shock.
     "Alex, wake up," Darian said he gently took her wrists again.
     There was a blood-chilling moan from the blonde as she closed her eyes,
her breath heaving in her bare chest.  "D... Darian?" she whispered hoarsely.
     "I'm right here," he replied as he let go of her, holding one hand in his
and using the other to bring the sheet up to cover her.
     "Alex, are you alright?" Michelle said quietly, sniffing hard as tears
spilled down her cheeks.
     "Mich?" she replied quietly.  "Oh, dear god.... honey, I'm so sorry...."
     Darian breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back slightly, trying not to
pay any attention to Michelle's state of undress as she leaned over Alex and
kissed her softly.  "Are you awake now?" she whispered.
     "Oh, dear christ...." Alex replied sourly as she opened her eyes and did
her best to focus on the ceiling.  "Oh, god, tell me I didn't.... Darian?" she
said with a blurry blink.
     "I'm right here," he repeated, lightly squeezing her wrist.  He blinked
as she bolted upright and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug.  "H-Hey, easy on
the lungs...." he protested.
     "Darian, just shut up and hold me for a moment," she whispered, her whole
body starting to shake again.  "Mich, honey, I'm so sorry...." she sobbed.
     "It's alright, Alex," she said as she sat up, one hand keeping the sheet
tucked beneath her chin and the other lightly stroking Alex's bare back.  She
looked up at Darian with a deep sadness in her eyes, acutely aware of the depth
of pain in the blonde's soul.
     Darian blinked again before he hesitantly put his arms around her, giving
Michelle a slightly apologetic look.  He got a warm smile of understanding in
return as she reached up and briefly squeezed his hand.  He nodded fractionally
and started to slowly pat Alex's back, holding her as she continued to sob on
his bare shoulder.
     "Darian?" Alex quietly asked after a moment.  "Can I ask what you did to
wake me up?"
     He sighed quietly.  "I had to slap you," he replied, his cheeks turning
pink.  "I'm really sorry about that, Alex."
     "No, no, it's fine," she said, sniffing quietly.  "I was just wondering
why my cheek was hurting, that's all.  Trust me, I appreciate it.  I just....
oh, hell," she said as she started crying again.
     "Hey, just let it all out," he said quietly as he brought his hand up to
stroke her hair.  He looked up at Michelle, slightly surprised to see a look
of approval on her face as she sat back, grabbing a pillow and hugging it
tightly against her chest.
     He blinked hard as Alex shifted positions slightly and he felt the sheet
fall into her lap.  A delicate blush slid across his cheeks as he was able to
feel the nail-hard points of her nipples pressing against his chest, moving
slightly with every breath she took.  Oh, crap, he thought as he felt his
anatomy start to react, why now?  Damn....
     There was a sharp intake of breath as Alex suddenly tensed and pushed
herself away from him, her blue eyes wide.  He blinked hard as he reflexively
glanced down, realizing that she was entirely naked and that the sheets were
barely covering her lap.  "Uh, Alex...." he said slowly.
     "You're bleeding," she interrupted sharply, either unaware or uncaring of
how much of her feminine anatomy was exposed as she stared at the marks on his
chest.  "What happened?"
     "Myst woke up when I did," he said quietly as he edged back from her, one
hand dipping down to tuck the sheet around her in a more modest fashion.
     "HEY!" she protested before she realized what he was doing.  "Oh," she
breathed in a far softer tone, a pale blush infusing her cheeks.  "Darian, we
can worry about that later, you're really dripping blood."
     "What?" Michelle asked as she leaned to one side to see past Alex.  Her
eyes went wide as she gasped.  "Darian, what happened?  Look at you!"
     He glanced down at his chest and grunted as he saw four neat sets of claw
marks, each one easily an inch long and oozing profusely.  He looked back up
at Alex's bare chest and blinked, seeing several blood stains on her as well.
"I'll just go clean this up," he stammered.  "Umm, I can get you a washcloth
for that as well," he added a subtle gesture.
     "What?" Alex said, blinking as she glanced down at her chest.  "Oh, joy.
Thanks for sharing, D.  Tell you what," she said as she tossed the sheet aside
and stood up.  "I've got to take a piss before my bladder explodes.  You stay
put for a moment, I'll grab the peroxide or iodine or whatever the hell is in
your cabinet on the way back," she said as she brushed past him, not noticing
the look on his face at seeing her completely nude.
     He blinked hard and looked over at Michelle, feeling a burning heat on
his face and noticing a vivid crimson blush on hers.  "Question," he asked in
a quiet tone.  "Am I blushing as badly as you are?"
     "Probably," she replied as she glanced away.  "Darian, I am really sorry
about all of this...."
     He shook his head as he heard the bathroom door slam shut.  "It's okay,"
he assured her.  "At least, for the most part.  Is she always this brazen?"
     "Unfortunately," Michelle muttered sourly, hugging the pillow tighter.
"I love her dearly and it can be quite charming under in the right situation,
but.... not like this.  You sure you're okay?"
     He sighed softly as the stinging sensation finally began to register on
his mind.  "Bah, it's just a bunch of cuts," he replied.  "I've had worse.  I
just hope they won't get infected and scar or something.  Umm, listen, I know
you two are.... you know, lovers and all," he said slowly, the burning feeling
in his cheeks growing stronger.  "I just didn't want you to think I was trying
anything by holding her like that...."
     A small smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she wiped a stray tear
away.  "It's perfectly fine, Darian, I trust you.  We both do, which is most
likely why Alex didn't go ballistic a few moments ago...."
     Both their heads whipped around as there was a sharp cry of pain from the
bathroom.  Darian was about to turn around and run down the hall when he felt
Michelle's hand grab his wrist.  "Wait," she said quickly.  "I think she just
stubbed her toe or something, that didn't sound like a flashback.  Give her a
moment," she urged him.  "She probably feels bad about waking us up as it is."
     "Are you sure?" he said dubiously.
     She sighed and let go of him.  "No," she admitted, "But I don't think she
needed to use the bathroom.  I think she just needed a moment to try to get a
grip.  She's very touchy about such things.  Just give her a moment, please?"
she pleaded softly.
     He nodded and relaxed a bit.  "If you say so."
     She gave him a soft smile and scooted back, resting her bare back against
the wall and running her free hand through her hair.  "Darian, do you have any
idea how we can help her?" she said, her voice a soft whisper.  "She's been
having nightmares ever since.... not too often these days as earlier, but...."
     He shook his head slowly.  "Not really," he admitted.  "We talked about
it earlier, and I was getting the impression that she thought she knew of a
way to ease the nightmares, but that it wasn't something easily discussed."
     "Oh, that," she said quietly, staring down at the sheets wrapped around
her.  "Susan once suggested that she.... that she should try to find a man she
could trust enough to make love to her, the idea being that what happened then
would replace the memories etched into her nightmares.  Alex.... didn't react
very well to that suggestion," she admitted with a soft sigh.
     Darian blinked hard as a wave of ice flooded his veins.  So that's it, he
thought with a slight shiver as Alex's words about trusting him surged into his
mind.  Oh, boy, this one could get very ugly....  He blinked and tensed as he
felt something warm and wet brush up against his back, his spine arching in an
uncontrollable reflex.
     "Easy, it's just me," Alex said quietly from behind him.  "Lay down and
close your eyes so I can get those cat-marks cleaned up."
     "What?" he said, blinking in surprise.  Across from him, he noticed the
way Michelle also blinked in surprise, her eyebrows arching up to her hairline.
     There was a soft sigh behind him.  "Look, just cooperate," Alex grumbled.
"Close your eyes because I'm stark naked, and lay down so I can get at those
marks without having the rest of you in my way."
     He sighed quietly to himself.  "You need to put some clothes on," he said
in a faintly edged tone, giving Michelle a sour look.  He blinked hard as he
felt a hand on his shoulder and was forcefully shoved flat on his back.  "Ow,
hey, what are you doing?" he demanded.
     "Darian?" Alex said in a dangerously soft tone as she sat on the edge of
the bed and started to wash his chest with the washcloth.  "Just bite your
goddamned tongue and hold still while I do this.  Damn, you got clawed good."
     "Alex, please get dressed," Michelle pleaded softly.
     Alex paused and closed her eyes, her teeth seeming to grind together as
her jaw set firmly.  A faint tremor started up in hand as her breathing became
unexpectedly labored.  "Darian, am I really that bad that you can't stand the
thought of seeing me naked?" she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
     He sighed and placed his hand over hers.  "It's not that and you know it,
Alex," he said quietly.
     Her eyes opened and fixed him with a piercing gaze.  "Then what is it?"
     "Lead me not to temptation, for I can find it myself," he said softly.
"You're right about me in the sense that I'd rather rip my own dick off before
I would ever remotely think about taking a woman by force, but at the same time
you must keep in mind I am still a man who shares certain weaknesses with most
other men when it comes to willing women.  Now you can either get dressed and
remove any hint of temptation that way, or I can get up and walk back into the
living room, but the bottom line is that I really don't need to be tempted in
the slightest.  Now do you understand?"
     Alex's eyes widened with shock and tears immediately flooded her eyes.
"Darian, I'm sorry!" she gasped as she stumbled back from him, her eyes fixed
on the bulge in his sweatpants.  She blindly started grabbing for the sheets,
trying to hide herself from him in a panic.
     He just sighed heavily and sat up, burying his face in his hands.  "Alex,
there is a robe behind you," he said quietly.  "Just put it on and relax, I'm
not mad at you or anything, I promise."
     "Darian, please don't," Alex sobbed as she curled up in a ball, her whole
body wracked with tremors.  "I didn't mean to, honest...."
     He lifted his head up from his hands and gave Michelle a pained look, the
corners of his mouth tugging downward in a dark frown.  She gave him a saddened
look in response as she rose up from the bed and walked over to the sobbing
blonde, still clutching the sheet around her.  She lightly stroked Alex's back
and glanced back up at him, angling her head towards the door.
     He took the hint with a measure of relief, rising to his feet and leaving
the room in silence.  He closed the door behind him and returned to the living
room, feeling a dark cloud settle around his soul.  This is going to be a very
long night, he thought to himself as he cast a quick glance at the VCR clock.
     "Are you alright?" Myst asked quietly, still perched on the recliner.
     A hollow grunt of a laugh emerged from his throat.  "Compared to everyone
else, I'm fine," he said quietly.  He paused as the stinging senstion in his
chest reasserted itself and he gave her a sour look.  "You need to be careful
with those claws of yours, by the way."
     She blinked hard as he moved close enough for her to make out the bleeding
cuts in the dim light.  "I did that?" she said incredulously.
     "Yes, you did," he replied as he looked around for something that was both
absorbant and disposable to wipe off the blood.  He blinked and turned around
as Alex walked down the hallway, wearing a pair of panties and the tank top.
Her expression was thoroughly haunted as she pointed at him, then pointed to
the couch.  "Sit," she said quietly as she set the bottle of hydrogen-peroxide
down on the coffee table.
     He blinked hard at her request, acutely aware of the biological reactor
still trying to jump-start itself in his pants.  "Uh, Alex, I...."
     "Sit," she repeated, giving him a level look.
     "You alright?" he asked as he complied with her instructions, trying not
to look at her shapely legs or the angle of the cut of her panties.  C'mon, be
a good boy and cooperate, he thought to himself.  Down, boy, down....
     She shook her head, sniffing quietly.  "No, but I'll make it.  Damn, she
made a mess of you.  Lean back," she said as she sat next to him and gently
ran the damp washcloth across his chest.
     "Alex, I can take care of this later," he said quietly as he studied the
haunted look in her bloodshot eyes.  "You don't look too good."
     "Thanks a lot," she grumbled quietly as she avoided eye contact.  She
carefully wiped the worst of the blood off, a stray tear falling from her eye.
"Darian, I really am sorry if I.... sent the wrong message or something."
     He shook his head.  "It's okay, really, I'm not mad or upset."
     She sighed quietly and sniffed again.  "Yeah, well, still....  I just....
Hell, I don't know anymore," she groused.  She cast a look over her shoulder
as Michelle came down the hall, wearing the same dress shirt she had borrowed
earlier.  "Hon, you want to grab some cotton balls from the bathroom, please?"
     Darian grunted quietly to himself as Michelle nodded and wordlessly turned
around, disappearing into the bathroom.  "I think we need to sit down and have
a talk about things," he said quietly, wincing as the claw marks on his chest
protested at being rubbed by the rough terry-cloth fabric.
     She nodded.  "Well, we've got the sitting down part happening just fine,
so feel free to talk," she replied as she continued to lightly clean the cuts
still oozing blood.
     "Michelle made mention earlier about how Susan had given you some advice
awhile ago," he said neutrally.  "Something about how to replace the memories
of the past with something more.... amicable."
     Alex froze in mid-motion, her eyes going wide in surprise.  Her reaction
quickly changed as she sat back, her mouth setting in a flat line and a dark
blush creeping across her face.  "Oh, yeah?" she said in a flat monotone, her
head turning around as Michelle stepped out of the bathroom.
     Michelle came to a sudden halt, looking like a deer caught in headlights
at the dark look on Alex's face.  She whimpered quietly and started to edge
back, not sure of what was going on but not liking it in the slightest.
     "So, your Highness, she tell you anything else?" Alex said softly, her
voice as cold and as flat as arctic tundra.
     Darian frowned and lightly grabbed her wrist, gently pushing the washcloth
away from his chest.  "She, like everyone else, only has your best interests
in mind," he reminded her in an edged tone.  "Getting mad at someone trying to
help you is not going to make things any easier on anyone."
     "Some help I can do without," she replied, casting a final glance towards
Michelle before returning her focus back to Darian's chest.  She tugged her
wrist free from his grasp and resumed her task, slowly trying to wipe away the
rest of the blood.
     He looked up at Michelle, sighing quietly at the mortified look on her
face.  He made a subtle gesture towards the other end of the couch and she
wordlessly complied, giving Alex a deeply hurt look as she edged past her and
sat down.  She blinked as she was suddenly reminded of the cuts on his chest
and she leaned forward, setting the pile of cotton balls down on the coffee
table next to the small brown plastic bottle.
     "So back to what you were saying earlier," Alex said in a flat tone.
     Darian sighed quietly, wondering just how exactly he was going to go about
dealing with the situation.  "What exactly do you want from me?" he asked in a
guarded tone, trying to stall for time.
     She blinked and looked up at him.  "Who said anything?" she inquired, her
expression changing to one of puzzlement.
     Let's try it like this.... he thought as he took a deep breath.  "So you
just want to be friends, I take it?" he said slowly.
     "Of course," she replied, blinking in surprise.  "We've been friends for
years, why would I want to change that?"
     "Excuse me, but I only met you yesterday," he reminded her archly.  "I
really don't know what went on in.... a past life, I guess you'd call it, but
I really don't know you.  Certainly not well enough to be comfortable with you
waltzing around stark naked," he added.
     She blinked hard again and sat back, her eyes wide.  "But.... but I know
you," she protested.  "I've known you for years.  We've practiced with swords
together, went bar-hopping once, I can't even begin to count all the times you
and I and everyone all did something with the Princess.... all the banquets,
the dancing, the times we went racing rovers...."
     He shrugged and crossed his arms.  "Sorry, I don't know have a clue as to
what you're talking about," he said bluntly.  "It might have been with someone
who looked exactly like me, sounded like me, and maybe thinks a lot like me,
but I've never done those things before.  I was born twenty-two years ago here
on Earth, and aside from those trips to the Negaverse which I really don't even
remember for myself, I've never left the planet.  In fact, I really can't say
I've ever been to the Moon Kingdom before," he added, ignoring the expression
crumpling on her face.  "I know the others have once, but that was only because
Serenity sent them there."
     "H-How can you say that?" Alex demanded, tears welling up in her eyes yet
again.  She blinked as an idea hit her and she gave him a deeply concerned
look.  "It's the Negaverse, isn't it?  Whisper said something about how your
memories were being blocked, I'll bet that's it...."
     "Alex, please," Michelle said very quietly, huddled in the corner of the
couch.  She glanced over to her side as Myst hopped up next to her, and she
reached out to scoop up the silky gray kitten.  "None of the others remember
anything, either, it's not just him," she whimpered quietly, nervously running
her fingertips through Myst's fur.
     "We can't remember what never happened to us," Darian said quietly.
     Alex sighed quietly and sat back, running her free hand through her short
blonde hair.  "Okay, so what?" she countered.  "Does that change who you are?"
     "It just might," he replied, drawing a surprised blink.  "People are who
they are because of their memories and experiences, Alex, because of what they
were taught and what they've learned over time.  I'm not a prince, contrary to
what you keep calling me.  My parents died when I was five and I grew up in an
orphanage, and I'm willing to bet that I certainly didn't lose my parents in a
car crash a thousand years ago, right?"
     Alex blinked hard and exchanged stunned glances with Michelle.  "What the
hell?" she breathed.  "Of course you're a prince, your father was the King and
your mother a noble woman from a distant land he took as his queen."
     "A thousand years and another lifetime ago," he said slowly.  "If that is
truly the case, your Earth prince died during the invasion along with everyone
else.  His life is over, he's gone now."
     "Alex...?" Michelle said very quietly.  "You remember seeing our.... our
corpses when we died, right?"
     "Oh, dear lord, did you have to remind me?" Alex replied sourly with a
full-body shiver.  "Here's the problem with your logic, Darian.  See, we died
as well, and as Mich so kindly pointed out, we have the bodies left behind in
the Moon Kingdom to prove it."
     Darian cut her off with a gesture.  "There's a difference between being
reincarnated and being resurrected.  You were resurrected.  I was not.  Go ask
the others about it, they died in the Negaverse during their attack on Queen
Beryl," he said, drawing shocked looks from both Alex and Michelle.  "The only
reason they're still around to tell you about it is because Serena was able to
resurrect them.  They can tell you that being raised from the dead is not the
same as being reborn again, and they've been both."
     "Holy crap, are you serious?" Alex breathed.
     "Dead serious.  Err, pardon the pun," he added sheepishly.
     Alex just shook her head and set the washcloth down on the coffee table.
"We'll ignore that one.  Okay, so let's just say for the sake of argument that
you're absolutely right, that everything I know about you is nothing more than
a puff of smoke from one of Sue's herbal cigarettes.  So," she said slowly as
she uncapped the peroxide, "What does that really mean?"
     Darian raised an eyebrow, not overly thrilled at what was to come next.
"It means that you don't know me well enough to try to show some skin and not
get a reaction," he muttered darkly.  "None of the others have even considered
trying something like that, and we know each other quite well."
     Alex paused to take a sobering breath as she grabbed a cotton ball and
soaked it in the peroxide.  "Okay.  Mind if I ask who you've seen naked, if
anyone at all?"
     He blinked hard before sighing.  "Only Serena.  Rei flashed everyone by
accident one day when we were in a fight and her suit tore, but that's it."
     "Huh," the blonde said quietly.  "Had to have been one hell of a fight to
have torn those suits.  Hold still," she added as she started to dab the claw
marks with the peroxide-soaked cotton ball.
     "Still.... yeow!" he hissed, his face contorting from the pain.
     "Oh, don't be a baby," Alex fussed as the cuts started to fizz fiercely,
the antiseptic strongly reacting to something inside.  "Mich, honey, grab a
cotton ball and clean her claws, okay?  I don't think they should be fizzing
this much unless she's gotten dirty.  So, Darian, backtrack just a step or two
for a moment.  You saying we can't trust you?"
     "Truthfully?" he said slowly.  "No."
     Both women froze in mid-motion and looked up at him.  "No?" Alex echoed,
her eyes widening.
     He sighed quietly as he plucked the cotton ball from her hand and tended
to the cuts himself.  "Don't get me wrong, I have every intention of behaving
like a gentleman, but you probably shouldn't trust me to behave how you think
I should simply because I'm not who you think I am."
     Alex have him a blank look, one eyebrow arching up.  Michelle sighed very
quietly and nodded.  "We understand, Darian.  At least, I do," she added as she
cast a glance at Alex.  "He's not going to hurt us, Alex, that would be against
his basic instincts.  We just have to get used to how he would think and react
to various situations."
     "Okay," Alex said very quietly, her expression turning haunted again.
     Darian blinked at the mood swing and exchanged glances with Michelle,
getting a saddened look in response as she tried to clean Myst's claws with a
soaked cotton ball.  Myst, however, had a very distateful expression on her
face and kept wrinkling her nose.
     "Alex, look at me," Darian commanded softly as he gazed into Alex's blue
eyes.  "As I said, we only met yesterday and under very unusual circumstances.
Have I done anything since then that would make you think I have any bad or
less-than-honorable intentions?"
     "Of course not," she whispered.
     He nodded.  "So you can trust me not to harm you or Michelle or anyone
else.  I know you're Sailor Scouts, which means I can probably trust the both
of you like I trust the others, and I am more than willing to give you the
opportunity to validate that trust.  However, trust can only go so far between
friends before it crosses a line, before they quit being friends and become
something else.  There isn't room in my life for more than one such person,
and that person is Serena.  You understand what I'm saying here, right?"
     She nodded sullenly.  "Yeah, I do now."
     "Good," he said as he leaned forward and hugged her.  He felt her body go
rigid with tension at his embrace before very slowly starting to relax, one
hand coming up to squeeze his shoulders.  He pulled back and looked into her
eyes, relaxing himself as he saw some of the inner darkness seem to lift from
her spirit.
     "Thanks, Darian," she said very quietly.
     He gave her a soft smile.  "Now that is what friends are for."
     She nodded and gave him a wan smile in return, glancing over at Michelle
and sighing very softly.  "Myst, hold still," she said as her smile faded into
a slight frown.
     "It stinks," Myst said flatly, her tail lashing back and forth as the
peroxide solution was rubbed against her claws.
     "Deal with it," Alex muttered dourly as she grabbed a fresh cotton ball
and soaked it.  She looked up at Darian and sighed before returning her gaze
down to his chest.  "Hold still, I'm not done yet," she protested as he edged
away from her.  "Or do you want this to get infected?"
     The next ten minutes seemed to pass in a blur of quiet grumblings of mild
pain and generic suffering as both claws and claw marks were disinfected, the
pile of used cotton balls growing larger with every passing minute.  "I think
you're done," Darian said archly as a cut was swabbed for the third time.
     "One sec," Alex promised as she squeezed a few drops of hydrogen-peroxide
from the cotton ball and dripped it onto the scratch.  The liquid started to
fizz violently for several seconds before settling back down.  "There, that
wasn't nearly as bad a reaction as the last time," she observed.  She looked
up at him and sighed.  "You're a wuss, Darian," she grumbled at the expression
of pain on his face.
     "This hurts, okay?" he protested with a faint growl.  "Have you ever been
clawed by a cat?"
     There was a short bark of laughter from the blonde.  "Honey, you have to
be kidding me.  Here, this is from yesterday," she said as she held up her
forearm, showing him the small scratches Myst had given her when she had first
tried to pick her up at the mana pool.
     "Please," Darian scoffed.
     "I ain't finished," Alex countered as she tossed the cotton ball into the
pile and stood up.  She brought her leg up and leaned forward, presenting him
with a close-up view of her thigh.  "See these?" she said as she gestured to
the faint network of scars.  "Now what do these look like to you?"
     He gave her a slightly pained look as he studied her leg.  There had to
have been at least forty such marks, criss-crossing her leg in an unsteady
pattern.  "Okay, now that looks like it hurt," he commented, trying not to let
his gaze wander further up her leg or otherwise admire the muscular curves of
her thigh too much.  "So what happened, and who won?"
     She shrugged casually.  "I was a little kid and wanted to play with one
of Luna's siblings.  Problem was, he was sleeping at the time and didn't take
too well to being picked up without warning.  I think he won, but he ended up
being punted across the courtyard."
     "That's mean," Michelle protested sourly as she tried to clean a set of
Myst's rear claws with only moderate success.
     "Well, he wouldn't let go of my arm," Alex protested as she stepped back,
much to Darian's relief, and examined her wrist.  "I'm surprised I don't have
scars on my hand from that as well.  Speaking of which.... I hate to break this
to you, Darian, but I think you're going to end up with a perfect set of such
scars," she said sourly as she studied his chest yet again.  "They're just a
little on the deep side, you know?"
     He shrugged.  "It was an accident."
     "Still," she muttered as she cast a glance at the upset Shinma.
     "So you feeling any better?" Darian asked quietly, scooting over slightly
to make room for her as she plopped down next to him.
     She sighed and leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the couch.  "I
suppose so," she said after a few moments.  "At least I'm finished crying for
one night.  Or should be, at least.  Hey, this still mine?" she asked as her
gaze fell on the forgotten bottle of water sitting on the edge of the coffee
table.
     He glanced over to what she was looking at and nodded.  "Of course."
     "Thanks," she said as she leaned forward to grab the bottle, leaning back
again once it was in hand.  "Damn, what a night," she muttered before she took
the lid off and up-ended the bottle.
     He waited until she was finished draining the bottle before pointing to
the pale-green display on the VCR.  "We're not out of the woods yet, it's only
two-thirty in the morning.  Hey!" he protested as she swatted his leg with the
empty plastic bottle.
     "Don't remind me," she muttered.
     "There," Michelle proclaimed as she let go of Myst, a wry grin forming on
her face as the kitten promptly leapt out of her lap and onto the floor.  "Oh,
don't look at me like that, I know it smells strong up close, but you'll be
fine.  No, no, don't lick it, it's not good for you!"
     "Bleagh," Myst coughed, her tongue protruding between her teeth.  "What
is this foul stuff?"
     "Hydrogen-peroxide," Darian replied.  "Two hydrogen molecules bonded to a
pair of oxygen molecules.  Not overly stable, but it's very toxic to germs and
bacteria and the like.  A disinfectant."
     Alex smirked.  "I'll have to see if I can talk Sue into giving you a bath
soon," she teased at the look on Myst's face.  "You should enjoy that."
     Myst shot her a dark look before she suddenly turned as black as night,
her body seeming to melt into a pool of darkness that soaked into the carpet
and vanished.  The disappearing act caused everyone to suddenly sit up and
exchange somewhat wary glances.
     "I don't think she liked that," Alex observed after a moment.
     Darian shrugged and relaxed a bit.  "I wouldn't worry about it."
     She shot him an odd look.  "Darian, the cat first pops out from my shirt,
then she claws the crap out of you, and now she just dissolves into the floor
like water into a sponge.  And you're not worried in the slightest?"
     "So she's a demon who looks like a kitten," he replied with a decidedly
casual shrug.  "Accident aside, she hasn't done anything to make me think she's
dangerous or evil or a threat.  Come on, there are four aliens from another
world sleeping in a forgotten cathedral not too far from here, one of which is
a giant owl who can speak with her mind.  There's also a giant crystal spider
who thinks it's a chameleon that ate a windchime.... Oh, sorry," he added as
Michelle whimpered quietly to herself.
     "Mich doesn't like spiders," Alex observed lightly as she glanced up at
the ceiling.  "Speaking of which, hon, you might want to move, there's a tiny
one on the wall behind us."
     There was a strangled yelp as Michelle darted off the couch and whipped
around, her aquamarine eyes wide.  Her eyes got even wider as she saw that Alex
hadn't been making a twisted joke, a sharp whimper of fear emerging from her
throat.
     Darian craned his head to see and blinked.  "What, that little thing?" he
said as he studied the spider that was maybe a half-inch wide.
     Alex shrugged as she stood up and grabbed one of the used cotton balls.
"Yup, this itsy-bitsy little thing," she said as she reached up and casually
smooshed the spider, wiping the stain away with a flick of her wrist.  "It's
dead, dear, you can unkink your panties now."
     Michelle whimpered quietly again as she glanced around, trying to see if
there were any others lurking about.  "I'm sorry," she said quietly, a faint
blush appearing on her cheeks.
     Alex smirked as she sat back down and tossed the cotton ball back into the
discarded pile.  "It's okay, babe, I still love you.  Anyway, Darian, you were
saying something about Myst and aliens and the like?"
     He shrugged and stifled a yawn.  "I'm just saying that between all the
stuff the Negaverse and the Sailor Scouts have put me through, there probably
isn't a whole lot that bothers me once I get a chance to really check it out.
Don't get me wrong, I'd be tripping out over something that looks or otherwise
blatantly acts dangerous or hostile, but I'm still willing to give the other
side a moment to prove their intentions."
     "Huh," Alex said quietly to herself as Michelle came over and sat on the
end of the couch next to her.  She sighed and reached up, pulling her into her
lap and giving her a soul-searing kiss.  There was a soft sigh of contentment
from Michelle as she yielded to her lover's embrace, running her fingertips
through Alex's blonde hair.
     There was a soft laugh from Darian as he stood up and headed back over to
the recliner.  "You two should go back to bed," he suggested quietly as he sat
down and proceeded to get comfortable again.  "It's still the wrong end of the
morning to be getting up."
     Alex gently eased Michelle away from her embrace, drawing a quiet whimper
of protest from the other woman.  "Darian, you've got to be kidding," she said
sourly.  "After the nightmares I just had?  Nope, I'm not going back to sleep
tonight."
     Darian raised an eyebrow.  "I don't think the nightmares are going to be
coming back to you tonight," he said in a level tone.
     Alex blinked and shot him a look.  "And why not?"  She blinked as he sat
up and fixed her with a piercing gaze, his eyes seeming to grow cold as they
bored into her very soul.
     "Because I said so," he said calmly.  His voice was gentle and even, but
something in his tone sent a dark shiver through her for some strange reason.
"You're not going to have any more dreams of being raped tonight, because this
is my apartment and you are safe while in here.  Understand?"
     "I w-wish it was that simple," she replied breathlessly.
     "Trust me," he said quietly.
     Their gazes locked and held for what seemed like a minor eternity before
Alex nodded slowly, a strange feeling surrounding her.  She had no idea what
the feeling was, but at the moment she really didn't care to find out.  She
stood up slowly, taking a small measure of comfort in the warmth of Michelle's
presence at her side, holding her hand tightly.
     She allowed herself to be gently pulled towards the bedroom, stopping in
her tracks as something seemed to tug on her soul for a moment.  She blinked
and turned around, ignoring the confused look on Michelle's face.  "Darian?
What if the dreams do return...?"
     "They won't," he assured her.
     "But...."
     He sighed and closed his eyes.  "If by some chance they do, Alex, then I
guess we'll just have to deal with them in a little more decisive fashion," he
said quietly, his words sending another unexplained dark shiver through her.
"But they won't.  Good night."
     "Night, Darian," she said quietly as she yielded to the gentle tugging on
her wrist, following Michelle back into the bedroom and praying that her trust
in him would not be misplaced.  The door was closed behind her, and it wasn't
very long afterwards until the mantle of sleep folded over her mind once more,
drawing her back into the realm of subconscious dreams.

                *               *               *               *

     Leda awoke with a pounding headache, a feeling she first thought was a
visit the 'old friend' who usually waited until she had reached the bottom of
a bottle of alcohol in one sitting before dropping in to say hello.
     Crap, forgot the water again, she mentally moaned as she struggled to sit
up.  She knew that a hangover was really an alcohol-induced state of moderate
dehydration, and that the best way to ward it off was to drink plenty of water
before going to bed or otherwise passing out.  That usually resulted in being
rudely awakened a couple of hours later by a bladder begging for mercy, but it
usually beat having a monster headache.
     She blinked as her senses promptly reoriented themselves on her immediate
suroundings.  On the couch, that's not new, she thought as her brain woke up
and ran down a checklist of the obvious.  Wearing just a robe, still not new.
Call it a factor three headache, that's a bit on the mild side.  Still dark
outside, not relevant.  Empty bottle on coffee table, expected.  Brain works,
now that's a first.  You know, I don't think I had enough to be drunk, so....
     She blinked again as a low moan registered on her fully-functional mind.
What the hell? she thought as she glanced around, her eyes going wide as she
realized that Ami was curled up in a ball in the armchair.  Okay, yeah, so she
was here last night, and I let her borrow my robe, which she is.... only half
wearing, oops.  Damn, she's cute like that.... and she's having a bad dream,
oh hell....
     "Ami," she called out as she sat up and tried to stand.  The world began
to whirl around her madly and she was forced to quickly sit back down.  "Ohhh,
my head," she whimpered as she waited for things to quit spinning.  "Ami, wake
up," she called out in a loud tone as she heard another deep moan.
     A frown crossed her face as Ami failed to react, her body still twitching
gently.  Her head tilted to one side and her lips pulled back, revealing the
tiny pair of vampiric fangs fully emerged from her gums.  Another deep moan
slipped past her lips, her face contorted into a mask of pain and suffering.
     "Aww, crap," Leda breathed quietly, knowing that whatever subconscious
dream she was locked in was not a very pleasant one.  She took a deep breath
and summoned the willpower to stand up again, this time with only a mild case
of dizzyness.  "Ami, c'mon, wake up," she urged as she slowly made her way
across the room, her balance dangerously unstable.  "Ugh, don't make me fall
down on you, that'll hurt the both of us...."
     She reached Ami's side and did her best not to collapse, one arm holding
onto the back of the armchair for support.  Damn, this sucks, she thought with
a dark sigh, suddenly remembering why she felt so weak and unstable.  Okay, so
maybe that was phrased badly, but still....
     She leaned over and grabbed Ami's shoulder, shaking her gently.  "Ami!"
she said loudly.  "Wake up!  C'mon, girl, wake...!"
     Leda gasped hard as Ami's eyes snapped open, the steel-blue irises wide
with shock and horror.  Her breath was suddenly cut off in her throat as she
felt a hand grab her by the neck in an iron grip, pulling her towards a pair
of widening jaws as if to sink the tiny but lethal fangs into her veins.
     Ami blinked suddenly and refocused as Leda struggled, her eyes going even
wider as she realized what she was doing.  "Leda!" she gasped as she let go of
the brunette, catching her in her lap as she fell down.  "Oh, my god.... Leda!
Are you alright?  Say something!"
     Leda coughed harshly and tried to speak, her voice a faint wheeze in her
chest as she greedily sucked in air.  "D.... Damn...." she gasped.
     "Oh, god, Leda, I'm sorry," Ami said, on the verge of tears as she gently
rubbed her back.  She blinked as Leda coughed hard once again before lifting
her head up to fix her with a dark glare.
     "Gee, thanks," she rasped.  "You were having a bad dream, so I tried to
wake you up.  See if I try that again."
     "Leda, I'm sorry," Ami whimpered as she took her by the wrist and checked
her pulse.  She didn't need to try to get a count as the strong and distinctly
rapid vibration beneath her fingertips told her all she needed to know.
     Leda sighed and knelt down in a more comfortable position, trying to ease
the gentle roaring sound in her ears and the heavy but hollow pounding feeling
in her skull.  "Hey, no real harm, only a minor technical foul," she muttered
as she laid her head on Ami's chest.
     Ami blinked as she realized that the borrowed robe had slipped open, both
sleeves barely hanging onto her shoulders.  She sighed and ignored it for the
moment as she cradled Leda's head against her bare breast, the slow and steady
flow of warm breath across her skin bringing an odd measure of comfort to her.
She closed her eyes and did her best not to shudder at the memory of the dark
dream that had once again torn at her very soul.
     "You awake now?" Leda asked quietly as one arm slid inside the open robe
around Ami's waist, her fingertips gliding against bare skin.  She sighed to
herself and surrendered to her desires, sliding the other arm around the other
side and hugging Ami tightly.
     "Yes, thank you," Ami replied with a faint shiver, her fingertips absently
running through Leda's hair in a slow, relaxed motion.
     Leda listened to the heartbeat directly beneath her ear, feeling it pulse
against the ultra-soft skin pressed against her cheek.  "How bad was it?" she
asked softly, suddenly having no desire whatsoever to move from her present
position and somewhat intimate embrace.
     "One I would not like to experience ever again," Ami whispered.
     Leda blinked and lifted her head up to look at her, seeing the depth of
pain in those steel-blue eyes.  "You've had this one before, I take it?" she
ventured as a slight chill crept down her spine.
     Ami nodded slowly and sighed.  A sudden hiccup caused her to twitch, a
pale blush of embarassment coloring her cheeks.  She blinked as Leda stood up
and took her by the arm, gently pulling her to her feet.  She allowed herself
to be led over to the couch and sat back down, idly tugging the robe back into
a more modest position.
     Leda gingerly knelt on the cushions next to her and stretched out, one
hand reaching down to grab hold of Ami's sleeve and pulling her down next to
her.  She sighed softly and slid her arms around Ami's waist, adjusting her
position so that Ami's back was tightly against her chest and that they could
converse without needing to raise their voices.
     "Tell me about it?" Leda asked quietly in Ami's ear, giving her a gentle
squeeze.  She heard only silence and sighed silently, resting her head against
Ami's and hugging tighter.  "You don't have to if you don't want to, but you
know I'm here for you."
     It was a long time before Ami finally spoke up.  "It usually comes to me
whenever I take someone's blood," she said in a very soft whisper.  "Most of
the time, the dream is of.... of you, of taking too much blood and killing you.
And when everyone finds out, I become.... hunted, captured, tortured, and then
slain, usually by Mina."
     Leda blinked as a dark chill enveloped her.  She said nothing and snuggled
tighter against Ami, one hand brushing across the edge of her robe and gently
moving the fabric aside to touch bare skin.
     "Sometimes you like it, you beg for more," Ami continued, her tone brittle
and hollow as the repressed emotions tried to spill out.  "Other times you cry
and struggle and beg me to stop.  And always, I can't stop, I can't fight this
dark hunger inside of me, I just keep on drinking until I can feel your heart
stop entirely, drained dry of blood and life...."
     "Hey, easy," Leda murmured quietly as Ami's body started to shake.  "It's
just a bad dream, Ami, it's not going to happen."
     "Leda, what just happened earlier tonight?" she asked quietly, the tears
starting to form once again.  "And what just happened a few minutes ago?  I
could have seriously hurt you."
     Leda sighed and twisted her head slightly, brushing her lips across the
side of Ami's neck.  "But you didn't."
     "This time," Ami replied, her voice barely audible.  "I'm scared, Leda,
scared that the next time might be different.  I've been scared about doing
that since I first tasted your blood, that I might not be able to control this
hunger inside me one night...."
     Leda very softly nuzzled her throat again, her fingertips lightly stroking
the smooth expanse of Ami's abdomen.  "I have faith in you, Ami, even if you
don't believe in yourself."
     "I don't," she replied quietly, feeling a dark shame start to burn inside
her heart.  "I don't believe in myself, and that's why I have the nightmares,
the dark dreams of hurting you and being hurt by my friends...."
     The brunette sighed quietly.  "You really believe we'd hurt you?"
     "You, never," Ami said with a shake of her head, sighing softly as she
felt the gentle embrace tighten around her.  "I'm not exactly worried about
Serena, but I know her aura is both powerful and very defensive.  If she does
lash out, it won't be a conscious effort.  No, it's Rei and Mina that scare me
the most, they're the ones in my dream.... burning me alive, stabbing me with
their blades, their voices, their taunts, their laughter echoing in my head,
over and over and over again...."
     "Enough," Leda whispered fiercely as one hand came up to cup Ami's chin,
gently twisting it to one side as she leaned over.
     Ami closed her eyes as Leda kissed her, a soft but deep kiss that she knew
was meant in several ways.  The genuine warmth of concern and emotion was like
a blanket, surrounding her body in a feeling of safety and security.  It was
almost impossible for her not to respond, her lips softening as she yielded to
both the kiss and the tender embrace.
     Leda moved her head back to gaze into Ami's eyes, gently studying the odd
steel-blue coloring caused by her vampiric nature.  She brought one hand up to
very lightly move Ami's lip back, exposing the tiny fangs.  She studied them
for a brief moment before she leaned forward for another soft kiss, letting her
lips brush against the razor-sharp points.
     A faint noise of protest rose up from Ami's throat as she felt the dark
part of her stir slightly.  She looked up into Leda's green eyes as she moved
back again, the depth of concern and caring quite evident in their depths.
     "You worry too much, you know that?" Leda said very softly.  "As long as
I'm around, no one is going to lay a hand on you, least of all them."
     Ami sighed and glanced away.  "I'm not really worried about them," she
replied in a quiet tone.  "I'm worried about what I might do.  What happened
when you woke me up is proof enough."
     "Yeah, proof that you can stop yourself if you happen to slip," Leda shot
back in a gentle tone.  "Look, we all have things we have to sit on or keep on
a leash or otherwise keep under tight control.  Look at me and my temper, or
look at Rei and her temper.  Hell, Serena has a temper when she really gets
going.  My point is that we all have stuff we try to control, and we all have
days or nights in which it sometimes slips a bit.  Happens to everyone, Ami.
It just means you're human like the rest of us, and don't you dare start in
with the 'I'm not human anymore' self-doubt.  That's a bunch of nonsense and
you damn well know it."
     Ami blinked and looked up at her.  "I'm scared," she whispered.  "I don't
want to hurt anyone, least of all you."
     Leda smiled softly at her and lightly ran her fingertips through Ami's
short blue hair.  "Don't be scared, Ami.  I'm not, and if anyone has the right
to be paralyzed with fear, it's me.  After all, it seems I'm the one you're
most likely to kill by accident, right?  It's not a thought I'd like to dwell
on, of course, but I'm not losing any sleep over it.  And neither should you."
     Ami sighed and looked away, her thoughts darkening once again as Leda's
words started to replay themselves in her mind.  She looked back up at her as
she felt Leda's hand idly tracing a small circle on her stomach, a gentle look
in the brunette's eyes.
     "Speaking of lost sleep, you should probably try to go back to bed," she
said in a very soft tone.  "Yeah, I know you're probably not overly thrilled
with the prospect of dreaming again, but the morning sun won't rise for quite
some time and you don't strike me as the kind of person who writes off sleep
very easily."
     Ami wrinkled her nose reflexively.  "True," she admitted.  Unlike most of
the other Sailor Scouts, she had no qualms about getting up as soon as the sun
rose above the horizon.... provided she had been able to get a decent amount of
sleep the night before.
     Leda smiled softly at her and kissed her cheek before standing up.  "Come
on," she said quietly as she took Ami's hand in her own and lightly tugged her
to her feet.
     Ami paused as a faint chill swept through her.  She looked up at her and
sighed, realizing what exactly the brunette had in mind.  She opened her mouth
to say something when her vampiric hearing picked up a series of soft clawing
sounds, as if something was trapped somewhere and was trying to get out.
     "What is it?" Leda asked with a slight frown as she noticed the change in
Ami's expression.
     "You hear that?" Ami asked, turning to look towards the kitchen.
     Leda blinked and tried to listen, her eyebrows arching up as she made out
the nearly inaudible sound of something metallic being scratched.  "What the
hell is that, a mouse?"
     "No," Ami said after a moment.  Wary but curious, she quietly walked in
the general direction of the kitchen, pausing in the short hallway as the noise
got louder.  She edged her way closer to the front door, blinking in surprise
as she realized that the sound was definitely coming from something inside the
pantry.  "It's in here."
     Leda stepped over and listened, blinking hard as the scratching became
more pronounced.  "What the hell?  It sounds like it's in the dryer, whatever
it is.  Stand back," she added as she looked around for something suitable to
use as a weapon.  She settled on a meat tenderizer hanging from a hook on the
wall, picking it up and holding it at the ready with one hand.  Taking a deep
breath, she reached in and grabbed the dryer door handle, yanking it open with
a sharp tug.
     "Finally," a soft voice breathed from within the dryer.
     Leda blinked hard and nearly dropped the tenderizer.  "What the hell are
you doing in there?" she demanded as she reached inside and grabbed the silky
gray kitten.  "And what's that smell?"
     "Hydrogen-peroxide," Myst grumbled as she was gently set down on the edge
of the kitchen counter.  "Alex thought I needed to be cleaned."
     "How did you get here?" Ami wondered, peeking into the dryer to see if
anything had happened to her clothes.
     Myst sneezed hard and shook her head.  "I left a marker earlier, in case
I had to return to Leda for some reason.  I couldn't find Susan awhile ago and
I wasn't able to use this marker, so I returned to Alex for a period of time.
It was a bad idea, as you can tell."
     "Huh," Leda said quietly.  "Strange.  You teleport or something?" she
asked as she closed the dryer and returned the tenderizer to the wall hook.
     "Dimensional shifting," the Shinma replied.
     "Same difference," the brunette grumbled.  "You have bad timing, as Ami
and I were getting ready to go to bed."
     The kitten blinked and studied Ami very carefully, her pale red eyes
narrowing slightly.  "I can feel the dark energy surrounding you from here,"
she said after a few moments of silence.  "Are all humans filled with such
energy?"
     Ami sighed quietly.  "Probably not," she admitted.  "I just woke up from
a nightmare not too long ago, so that might be it."
     "Curious," Myst replied softly.  "Alex woke up not too long ago from a
nightmare of her own.  How often does this happen to humans?"
     Leda snorted quietly.  "Whenever we have really bad days, which isn't as
common as you would think from hanging around us too much.  Yeah, so we're an
emotional lot, but you get used to it.  You going to stay here the rest of the
night or what?"
     The kitten blinked and looked back at Ami, her tail slowly swishing back
and forth.  "May I absorb some of that dark energy?" she asked cautiously.
     "Like you did with me?" Leda asked with a raised eyebrow.
     "Exactly," Myst confirmed with a nod, still observing Ami intently.
     Ami blinked and glanced over at the brunette before looking back at the
gray kitten.  "Umm.... let me think about it?" she said slowly.
     Leda sighed as she walked over and picked up the kitten, cradling her in
one arm.  "Like I said, girl, you worry too much.  Come on," she said as she
gently took Ami by the hand again.
     "Leda...." Ami sighed softly.  She blinked as Leda turned around and gave
her a soft kiss, squeezing her hand tightly.
     "I don't think you truly want to be alone tonight," Leda whispered.  "And
to be perfectly honest, neither do I.  I just want to hold you, that's all."
     Ami sighed again and yielded, allowing herself to be led by the hand into
Leda's bedroom.  She looked around as the door was closed behind her, making
idle note of the state of casual organization of things.  It wasn't perfectly
neat, as there was a pile of clothes casually clustered together next to the
laundry hamper and a couple of books were visible under the edge of the bed,
but she had seen far worse bedrooms before.  So much for the princess theory
of inherent neatness, she thought to herself as she thought of Serena and her
bedroom's state of perpetual disorganization.
     She looked up as Leda set Myst down on the edge of the bed and moved over
to her.  Steel-blue eyes met green as Leda untied the sash on her robe, letting
it spill to the floor in a slow rush of maroon fabric.  Her hand then reached
out to Ami's robe, pausing for several moments as she looked into Ami's eyes
for permission.
     Ami felt the dark part of her shiver ever so lightly as she sighed and
nodded.  The sash came undone and a pair of hands glided up to her shoulders,
gently pushing the black robe off of her.  A very gentle smile came to Leda's
lips as she edged forward to wrap her in a soft hug, savoring the warmth of
their nude bodies pressed against one another.
     She took Ami by the hand again and led her over to the bed, pushing the
covers aside to make room for the both of them.  She climbed in and scooted
over, making sure that there was plenty of space for Ami.  She settled back
and waited patiently for Ami to settle in as well, visibly uncomfortable with
the current situation.
     She looked up as Leda reached down to grab the sheets, pulling them up to
their waists and dragging a slightly surprised Myst along as well.  They both
blinked as Myst began to purr softly, lightly making her way across the rest
of the bed and settling down on Ami's bare chest.
     "Ooooh," Ami breathed quietly as Myst began to purr harder, making her
nipples vibrate and her eyes go wide.  "This feels strange...."
     Leda smiled and leaned over to kiss her shoulder.  "Told ya," she said,
yawning quietly.  She scooted close and snuggled up, one arm slipping behind
her head and the other grasping her lightly by the hand.
     "You are saturated with dark energy," Myst whispered very softly, her eyes
closed and her purr not missing a beat.  "I don't think I've ever encountered
a source this strong before.  You humans are quite amazing creatures."
     Leda chuckled.  "Oh, so we went from strange to amazing now?  Hey, Ami, I
think we just got a promotion."
     Ami giggled briefly, her breath catching in her throat as her movements
caused Myst's weight to jiggle in a most delightful fashion.  She reached up
with her free hand to gently stroke the kitten, slightly embarassed to have her
nestled between her bare breasts but otherwise content to leave her be.
     "Mmm, I'm getting sleepy just listening to her purr like that," Leda said
quietly as she adjusted her position and laid her head down on the pillows.
"And something tells me you're not going to have another bad dream again, at
least not tonight."
     "You're probably right," Ami said as she closed her eyes, listening to
the gentle purr rippling across her chest.  She sighed softly as Leda gave her
hand a gentle squeeze, relaxing as she realized that she wasn't going to try
anything further tonight.
     Her senses began to numb as she thought about it, how she had felt when
Leda had kissed her on the couch, or had held her in the armchair after she
brought her out of the nightmare.  The thoughts only lasted for a few moments
before starting to fragment, each shard drifting away in gentle peace as she
slipped into a shallow slumber and started dreaming once again.

                *               *               *               *

     K'tal sighed softly as he drifted back into consciousness once again.  He
had been drifting in and out of sleep for awhile now, seeming to be caught on
a gentle current that ebbed and flowed at random.  He opened his eyes as he
felt a gentle brush against his mind, the faintest of psionic probes along
the link he shared with the woman lying next to him.
     He glanced over at her and saw her hazel eyes looking back at him, a soft
look of emotion stirring in their depths.  Her expression was one of gentle
disturbance, as if a feeling of peace and tranquility had been interrupted by
something.
     He opened his mouth to say something when he felt a pair of fingertips
lightly pressed against his lips, keeping them still.  The psionic link seemed
to flare briefly at the contact, a soft feeling of unknown emotions flowing
along the bond.  He kissed her fingertips and relaxed slightly, not really sure
of what he wanted to say anyway.
     The current of emotions seemed to grow stronger, gently coursing through
the telepathic bond as her fingertips lightly traced the contours of his face
and came to rest on his forehead.  He blinked as the link seemed to expand,
opening his senses and his mind to both her touch and her own mind.
     <Ael?> he thought softly as he yielded to the gentle probe.  He got only
silence in response as she slowly expanded the probe, very gently sifting his
immediate memories for something.  A faint sense of unease filled him as he
realized what she was looking for, and it took him a few seconds to decide if
he should help her or not.  <Here,> he said quietly, guiding the mental probe
to the memory.
     His senses seemed to swirl around him as the probe took solid possession
of his memories and peeled them open as one would a piece of tropical fruit.
The sensations suddenly rushed back to him, the feel of her skin, the taste of
her lips, the warmth of her touch, the tingle of anticipation, the wonder at
being inside her mind as he slipped inside her body, the sheer exhilaration of
physical release, and the deep comfort of emotional satisfaction.
     He blinked as the probe withdrew and his senses reoriented on his current
surroundings.  He gave her a wide-eyed look as he struggled to slow his pulse
and his breathing, his blood seeming to be on fire.  He slowly reached up to
touch her, his fingertips lightly gliding across her face.
     She reached up and took his hand in hers, guiding his fingertips up to a
specific spot on her forehead.  Her eyes met his for a brief moment before he
felt his senses swirling again, a sense of profound shock ripping through his
very being as he saw and felt her side of the experience, the hesitation, the
desire to know for certain, the desire, the passion, the need, the fire, the
ice, the water, the wind, the storm, the calm.
     He gasped hard as his senses returned to normal, a searing pain running
through his side as his heart faltered for a brief instant.  His mind was in
chaos, attempting to cope with feelings and sensations that his nervous system
hadn't been designed to handle.  A gentle spark of warmth bloomed from within
the center of the whirling maelstrom and he tightly clung to it, holding on
with all his might as the madness slowly made sense once again, one agonizing
moment at a time.
     <Ael?> he thought once he was certain of his sanity.
     <I'm sorry....>
     He sighed and laid his head down on the pillow, his body shaking lightly
as he brushed his fingertips through her hair.  <My father once told me that I
should always try to open myself to new experiences,> he thought slowly as his
blood pressure seemed to return to normal levels.  <Somehow, I really don't
think that is what he had in mind.  How can you possibly cope with that?>
     The psionic bond resonated with a feeling of gentle comfort.  <I'm sorry,>
she repeated very softly as she stroked his back.  <I just....>
     <Just wanted to make sure it meant something to me?> he suggested.
     <Something like that,> she said, her telepathic voice barely a whisper.
     He huffed quietly.  <And you couldn't tell that through the bond?  I'm
just a little insulted, Ael.>
     He could feel a slight hint of exasperation through the link as her chest
heaved in a silent sigh.  <You have any idea how hard it is to passively read
a state of emotion when your own is in turmoil?> she replied quietly.  <Given
the flood of hormones at the time, I'm surprised I could even feel the link.>
     He chuckled quietly to himself.  <Okay, now that one I'll take the blame
for,> he thought in reply, surrounding the link with his sense of amusement.
He felt the feeling draining out of the bond as he looked into her eyes, a
silent plea for him to be serious about the situation.
     He sighed and brought his hand down, lightly brushing his fingertips over
the ultra-soft curves of her breasts.  He explored them very slowly, studying
them with both his fingers and his eyes.  He could feel her react to his gentle
touch, both physically and mentally.  <I could really get used to this,> he
thought very quietly.
     <Used to what, being in bed with me?> she inquired with a soft sigh.
     <Being with you,> he replied as he leaned forward, letting his lips meld
with hers for a minor eternity.  He could feel the bond between them expand at
the contact, conveying their emotions with increasing intensity.  He paused as
a dark shiver resonated through the link, not entirely sure which end it had
originated from.
     <For how long?> she asked, unable to conceal the icy dread of apprehension
at what the reply might be.
     He sighed quietly, realizing what she was truly asking and not entirely
sure he knew the answer himself.  He felt her unease deepen with every moment
that he remained silent and reached out through the bond, trying to offer a
sense of reassurance.  <I don't know, Ael,> he thought with honesty, trying to
open himself to her so she could see for herself.  <But for the moment?  For
however long you want to keep me around.>
     He felt the bond start to quiver as she wrapped her arms around him and
pulled him against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.  The link
was dampened for a moment as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, but
finally relented as she was unable to completely contain them.  They flowed
across the link like a gentle river, washing against his mind and bathing him
with a myriad of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
     <Easy,> he protested gently as she squeezed him tightly.
     <K'tal, I'm sorry, I just.... I....>
     He kissed her ear lightly as words failed her, a cascade of emotional
needs and desires surging around him.  <Yeah, this is new to me too,> he said
gently as she tried to settle her emotions down.  <We've been friends all this
time, Ael, and never imagined we could be together like this.  I'm still a bit
on the shaken side myself, you know, so don't think I'm fully confident I know
what I'm doing here.>
     She almost smiled at him.  <Now that's the K'tal I'm used to,> she teased
gently, a warm feeling filling the psionic link.
     <Oh, listen to you,> he groused good-naturedly.  <You literally blow up my
lunch, pepper my arm with fragments, glue my mind to yours, drag me across half
the region to visit a friend, in spite of all this I give you what you want in
bed, and now you have the gall to give me grief?>
     She sighed and patted his shoulder.  <Whiner,> she replied.  <I didn't
hear any complaints earlier.>
     <I thought you said you could barely hear yourself think earlier?> he
inquired casually as he moved off to one side to ease the strain on his arms.
     She mentally blinked and shrugged.  <Okay, that's true.>
     <Amazing what happens when you stop and think, hmm?> he teased.
     <Don't start with me,> she grumbled as she stretched slowly, a soft yawn
building up in her chest.
     He studied her curves for a moment before glancing around the room.  <So
what time is it, anyway?> he wondered, looking for some sort of clock.  He felt
a faint shiver of resignation along the link and looked back at her.
     <Probably close to dawn,> she thought sourly.  <We've got a lot to do in
a few hours, you know.>
     <Nop'tera can wait,> he replied with a shrug of dismissal, letting his
sense of contempt flow through the bond.  <I've got more important matters to
worry about.>
     The drew a physical blink from her as she tilted her head to look at him.
<What do you...?> she started to think before her mind was interrupted by the
feel of his lips on hers again, gently exploring and probing.  She couldn't
keep the shiver that ran through her body from echoing down the link, drawing
a sense of rising heat in response.
     <Or would you rather we save the world first, then worry about what to do
with one another?> he suggested casually as their lips broke apart.
     A walnut-brown eyebrow arched up.  <Save the world, hmm?  Think things are
really going to be that bad?>  She paused as she felt his end of the link turn
deathly cold for a moment.  <What is it?>
     He sighed quietly and laid his head on her shoulder, his eyes casually
studying every curve and contour of her bare chest.  <Part of the conversation
I had with Al'vexi.  It's.... something I'm hesitant to talk to anyone about,
as it could get me executed.  Yes, it is that bad,> he added as her end of the
link chilled briefly.
     <I don't suppose you're going to trust me and talk?> she ventured.
     He laughed very softly as he cupped her breast, running his thumb lightly
over her nipple.  <Might as well.  I've been in contact with Tolaris on Earth
recently, mostly to get his views and opinions on this nonsense with Rune and
Nop'tera.  He thinks we're in for it.  What's worse, Al'vexi said pretty much
the same thing when she discovered what I knew and decided to show me a little
something she had learned on her own.>
     She sighed softly as he gently teased her nipple into hardening.  <To be
honest, K'tal, I don't care if you're talking to Tolaris or not.  I know the
two of you were on good terms, despite what he did.>  Her breathing quickened
as he leaned over and captured her nipple between his lips, lightly flicking
his tongue across the ultra-sensitive surface.  <So what did Al'vexi tell you
that has you so worried?>
     He nipped her with his teeth lightly, causing her to gasp from the raw
feeling of almost electrical pleasure running through her nerves.  <Something
that will tear this world apart,> he thought quietly as he sat back, his eyes
darkening slightly.
     She blinked as the shift in his mood sent a deep undercurrent of worry
along the bond.  <K'tal, tell me,> she asked softly.
     <It appears that Sailor Moon is only half-human,> he replied quietly.  He
nodded slowly and sat back as her eyes widened, easing herself up on her elbow
and staring hard at him.  <Yeah, and you can guess what the other half is.>
     <What?> she thought, the light fog of pleasure that had started to form
around her mind abruptly dissipating.  <But isn't she supposedly the Princess
of the Moon Kingdom?  That would mean her mother....>
     <Was the Queen who got to know a denizen rather well,> he finished the
thought for her.  <It gets better.  You remember Prince Darian, right?>  He
blinked as she unexpectedly blushed, a faint smile springing to her lips.  <I
presume that is a yes?>
     <He had an interesting mind,> she replied demurely.  <What about him?>
     <Well, he's been named Crown Prince by the NegaForce.  Ow, not so loud,>
he protested as a surge of shock flooded the bond.  <And as we know they are
both still on very, very good terms, it seems to be quite likely that in about
a decade or so, we might have a new heir to the throne.  Hey, easy,> he added
as she flopped down on her back with a heavy sigh.
     <How many people know this?> she asked wearily.
     He thought carefully.  <I haven't told Tolaris this yet, so odds are that
leaves out anyone on Earth.  I'm not sure Darian even remembers his visit, as
it is my understanding that his memories are still sealed.  As for on our side
of the equation.... I'd honestly put it at only five or six that I'm aware of,
and Al'vexi already agreed to try to keep it as quiet as possible for the time
being.  And guess what, the story gets even better.>
     She quit rubbing her forehead and cast a stunned glance at him.  <You have
to be kidding me,> she thought slowly.
     <You want to know who the father is rumored to be?> he said lightly as he
sat up and straddled her hips.  He leaned forward and started slowly running
his hands up and down her chest, gently massaging her soft skin and the compact
muscles beneath.
     She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, yielding to his touch.  <Let me
guess, that's the part that will really trigger an uproar?> she ventured.
     <That's putting it mildly,> he assured her with a gentle squeeze of his
hands.  <How's the legendary Dragoon Captain himself strike you?>
     Her eyes promptly snapped open as another wave of icy shock echoed through
the link.  <You're not kidding, are you?>
     <Nope,> he replied with a sigh, gently kneading her breasts.  He felt the
sense of shock fade and slowly become replaced with a gentle feeling of warmth
and tender emotion.  <Don't ask me how that might have happened, but Al'vexi
apparently has every reason to believe that it's true, and that both Shar-Tei
and Rune herself were there when it was revealed.  And Ts'ani,> he added.
     She gave him a sour look as she closed her eyes again.  <That p'tai,> she
grumbled.  <He deserved whatever Whisper gave him.  Mmm, don't stop that.>
     He chuckled as he continued to gently tweak her nipples.  <You don't seem
to be overly upset or concerned about this development,> he observed.
     <K'tal, why should I care?> she telepathed bluntly.  <So someone who is
worshipped as a legend had a child with a human.  What's that mean for us?>
     <It means nothing by itself,> he admitted.  <Unless, of course, you are a
Dragoon who believes very strongly that Raijen's daughter is someone we should
pay very close attention to in regards to what she has to say about relations
between our worlds.  Also, keep in mind that if anyone is liable to be the
mother of Prince Darian's child, it's her.  And as I just pointed out a few
minutes ago, he is the Crown Prince, so his daughter will be our Queen.>
     <And that's a bad thing?> she wondered, her mind starting to become foggy
with pleasure again.  <We can wait a few years for a Queen to be born.>
     <If Rune and Nop'tera don't tear this world apart first,> he reminded her
darkly.  <Nop'tera might welcome this development, but you know Rune still has
it out for Sailor Moon.  If this becomes public, there might be an outcry for
something to be done, and *that* is where the danger lies.>
     She sighed and said nothing as her nerves began to tingle from his rather
intimate attentions.  She reached up to him, running her hand along his chest
and down his abdomen before lightly caressing his manhood.  <Will this change
anything today?> she asked quietly as he responded to her touch.
     <Of course not,> he replied softly, very lightly squeezing her nipples.
<We still have to get dressed in the ceremonial armor and welcome home a long
lost General, still have to suffer through all the speeches and grand-standing,
and if we're lucky maybe enjoy a few hours of the celebration being hosted by
our dear friends in Hospitality.>
     <Then thinking about what Sailor Moon and Prince Darian might mean to us
in the future can wait?> she thought softly as the bond seemed to spiral wide
open, allowing her thoughts and feelings to flow more freely along the link.
     <It can, but not forever,> he reminded her.  He sighed and leaned back a
little bit as she continued to caress him, feeling the passion and lust ignite
in his veins.  <Ael, you're going to start something if you don't stop that.>
     <I'm going to start something?  You started it first.>
     He laughed softly and rippled his fingertips across her breasts, causing
her to moan softly.  <This is probably a bad time to ask this now, but do we
even have time for this?>
     As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door a few seconds later.  He
had to literally bite the tip of his tongue as a very crude mental image came
across the psionic link, accompanied by suitably descriptive phrasing.  <Please
knock twice if this is a wake-up call,> she broadcast quietly.
     K'tal chuckled quietly as they heard a pair of knocks, followed by a soft
and exceedingly polite response of thanks from the telepath.  "Sorry," he said
aloud as he leaned forward and kissed her softly.
     "You owe me," she muttered darkly when they broke apart.
     He smiled at the look on her face.  "It will be a pleasure, Captain, to
repay the debt of pleasure," he murmured, drawing an even darker look.  "You
think Al'vexi would mind if we borrowed her shower for a few?"
     "Actually, yes," she replied, causing him to blink in surprise.  "She is,
if nothing else, a creature of habit and is probably in there herself at this
moment in time.  Besides, we need to return to our quarters and get ready for
this ceremony."
     "So can I get a rain-check on the indoor rain?" he ventured casually.
     She sighed and gently pushed him away