A Short Story
Author: ::poof!:: It is ChibiCori! Woo, resurrection rocks!
Rating: PG-13 (slight adult situations with a dash of my usual potty mouth.)

Disclaimer: I never once claimed to own Sailormoon. In fact, on more than one occasion, I've disclaimed it. But The Man won't get off my back. Damn The Man!

Summary: This fic was inspired by a ::looks around to make sure father isn't reading over shoulder:: *Ahem* a certain family member of mines' (not me!) tattoo. In this story, I decided to flesh Darien out a little, make him a little more ordinary.

I know, gasp! Ordinary, our little bish? Why don't you give it a try, see if you like my Darien, kay? Don't knock it til you tried it!


Darien Chiba very rarely imbibed in spirits. The aching pain in his right shoulder reminded him of exactly why.

Darien was still a little fuzzy on the details, but he *did* remember clearly enough Andrew dragging him to the closest watering hole after their last final. Said they had to celebrate. There certainly was nothing wrong with celebrating, Darien could hang like any other red-blooded guy. Sure, he didn't do it as often as the average red-blooded guy, but he was known to get down once in a blue moon.

It wasn't like Darien was uptight or anything. Pshaw.

So celebrate Andrew and Darien did. And did. And did, and did...well, you get the picture.

And naturally, when Andrew said they needed to get something to commemorate the end of their first year as college men, Darien had whole-heartedly agreed. After all, they had worked hard, they deserved it.

Then Andrew said *it* would be cool. Exactly what *it* was, Darien had missed and really hadn't questioned. It was cool, and Darien was as much for cool as any other red-blooded guy.

Six shots would do that to you too.

Then Andrew added that girls loved *them*. Darien, again, did not question what *them* exactly was and agreed. If girls liked...whatever Andrew was talking about, then he was definitely all for it. Darien liked girls as much as your average red-blooded-

Well, you know.

The beer chasers were responsible for that.

The two men paid for their drinks, stumbled out and the next thing Darien knew, he was waking up the next morning in his still made bed. His button-up Oxford shirt hanging off one arm, his head feeling like someone had been taking a jackhammer to it for the past three days. Oh, and not to mention a tattoo on the aforementioned aching shoulder.

"Hey buddy, you look like hell."

And Andrew Furahata did not have a tattoo.

Darien grunted incoherently from his stool at the counter of the fruit parlor after his original shock in front of his bathroom mirror an hour and a half ago.

Andrew smiled irritatingly wide for someone who had consumed an ungodly amount of liquor the night before and placed a large cuppa joe and two aspirin on the counter top before asking, "How's the shoulder?"

Andrew Furahata did not have much of a hangover either.

Darien grunted again, however slightly more violent then the last and popped one pain reliever in his mouth, took a swallow of coffee and then repeated with the next.

"Pretty good, huh? Let me see it!" Andrew leaned over the counter and tugged at one of Darien's t-shirt sleeves.

Darien promptly swatted his friend's hand away and looked at Andrew darkly over the rim of his mug, "Nah, I'd hate to have you pass out again."

"Ah, you're still not sore about that, are you?" Andrew reddened with the memory of Darien's inked flesh, and how the blond had promptly fainted dead away at the first sight of blood.

"Just tell me the guy was professional, new needle, ink cartridge?" Darien put down his steaming mug and buried his face in his hands.

"Yeah, I made it through that part." Andrew confirmed.

The hands then scrubbed over Darien's jaw, which he hadn't shaved that morning. He didn't trust his shaking hands and a razor with is face just yet.

In fact, Darien was looking mighty scruffy that day. His pounding head had allowed him a quick shower, and his anger with Andrew for the tattoo had fueled him out of his apartment without a thought to primping. Hair uncombed, air-dried and un-styled sat like an unruly little boy's would. Bloodshot eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades, his jaw rough with a shadow of day old stubble. To wear, he'd grabbed a plain grey, cotton t-shirt and an old pair of jeans, maybe the only pair he owned. There was even fading in the knees and seat of them, and a little fraying hole at the top corner of one of the back pockets.

Hell, Darien had been lucky he could stomach brushing his teeth that morning. All together, his look was very average, red-blooded guy. Very un-Darien.

"Look who I'm asking." Darien snorted in response to Andrew's testimony, "I should sue that guy. I'm sure it has to be against the law to tattoo someone obviously not in their right mind."

Andrew chuckled as he grabbed dirty dishes left by another customer and dropped them into the sink behind the counter, "I don't think so. Besides, you're pretty much the same when your drunk." Darien shot Andrew a glare that called him an idiot. In his defense, Andrew put up his soapy hands in surrender before adding, "It's true! The only difference is it's easier to talk you into things."

"Easy?" Darien arched a surprised brow.

"Too easy."

"Too easy?"

"Freakishly easy." Andrew further emphasized.

Groaning, Darien hid his face in his hands again, removing his sunglasses first, and then promised in muffled tones, "That's it. Never again shall alcohol pass through these lips."

"Self-imposed prohibition?" Andrew smirked, as if he'd heard that a million times and never once saw it work.

"It's nothing but trouble." Darien, not seeing his friend's skeptic reaction, further avowed.

Andrew laughed good-naturedly and clapped a hand over Darien's un-tattooed shoulder and offered in consolation, "It could have been worse."

"How?" Darien questioned as he took another gulp of his brew of choice. That being of, coffee.

"You could have woken up with the tattoo and Lola." Andrew smiled gleefully.

"Lola?" Darien's head shot up at the idea of waking up with anybody, but someone named Lola? You could give him Lo-

"Yeah, the fifty-something bartender you flirted with all night."

-the tattoo any day.

"I was not." Darien flat out denied.

"Okay, so you're freakishly easy to manipulate *and* you have lapses of judgement and memory when you drink." Andrew teased.

"Andrew, I was not flirting with anyone." Darien growled and pointed at his friend to end the conversation, pronto.

Unfortunately, a disbelieving voice from behind him kept the conversation going strong as ever. And then, added gasoline to it.

"Darien Chiba was flirting?"

Darien spun around to face the familiar presence of his arch nemesis, "Who invited you, Meatball Head?"

Serena Tsukino pointedly ignored Darien and went straight to their common ally. Andrew was really too nice for his own good. Darien's own good too.

"You mean to tell me Darien was actually saying pleasant things to an actual member of the opposite sex?" Serena questioned Andrew, who began to squirm. He was a horrible liar, especially with Serena. Maybe it was the older brother type affection he had for the fourteen-year-old, but she always managed to extract the truth from him without even trying.

That was a fact Darien was well aware of, and quickly intercepted his friend's answer before Andrew shared with Serena, said member of the opposite sex frequented Bingo night at the local community center, "I'm pleasant to plenty of girls, Meatball Head."

"Oh, but the courtesy doesn't extend to me?" Serena snapped and turned her blue eyes to Darien.

Darien only grinned wide, wincing slightly at the shooting pain in his temple at the action and replied succinctly, "Yep."

He also chose to ignore the flash of hurt in Serena's eyes and enjoyed his triumph. That is, until Andrew snatched it from his hands and placed it firmly back in Serena's when he added, in Darien's "defense" too, "Besides, he was way too wasted to even realize-"

"Andrew!" Darien cut off Andrew's sentence before any more harm could be done.

But Serena was still scandalized, "Wasted? Darien, were you drinking?"

Darien glanced sharply at Andrew to remain silent and then spat, "That's none of your business."

"So you were drunk and flirting with women?" Serena studied him shortly before she asked, "You didn't, you know..." Serena then flushed hard as she made a clumsy gesture, which Darien immediately recognized, then he too turned a bright shade of magenta.

"No! Ah, hell no!"

Serena seemed relieved as she took a seat on the stool next to his, "Well, ah, good. Then."

"We left before anything like that could happen." Andrew quickly inserted, again in Darien's "defense", "We spent all night at a tattoo parlor."

Darien dropped his head to the counter as Serena screeched above him, "A tattoo? You two got tattoos?"

"Oh no. Not me, just Darien." Andrew pointed at the downed man.

In turn, Darien lifted his head and said, "Andrew?"


"Go away."

Andrew nodded, smiled at Serena and replied quickly, "No problemo." And was glad to be out of the whole mess.

Then, surprisingly, there was silence. Serena simply adjusted the hem of her white skirt over her thighs while Darien watched her from the corner of his eye, all in the pretense of nonchalantly polishing off his coffee.

Darien was pretty sure he'd manage to pay for his coffee and slip out without further incident, and had even gotten as far as pulling some bills from his wallet before Serena leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Can I see it."

Jerking back at the not entirely unpleasant feeling of her breath brushing against the skin of his ear and feathering through his hair, Darien narrowed his eyes at the blond now sitting dangerously close to him, "Can you see what?"

Serena rolled her eyes and circled a pointed finger at his body, "The tattoo, can I see the tattoo?"

"Well, let me think." Darien paused a moment, scratching his head in thought before answering shortly, "No."

"Oh, come on." Serena's blue eyes turned up on his, and suddenly Darien understood why Andrew was always compelled to spill his guts to the girl. However, Darien felt no such need and after a few seconds of near capitulation, he was about ready to tell her to scram when Serena added, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

And really, what red-blooded guy could resist that?

"You have a tattoo?" Darien lifted a skeptical brow before shaking his head, "I don't think so."

"Oh ye of little faith." Serena smiled wide then nudged his arm with her elbow, "Here, I'll show you first."

"Serena, you are too young to have a tattoo." Darien insisted as she hopped down from her stool.

"Well, I have one." Serena insisted as she grabbed a handful of pink, fuzzy, sweater set and then hooked her thumb through one of the belt loops of her denim, miniskirt to drag it an inch lower, revealing a lot of smooth, pale skin.

And a half-dollar-sized tattoo on her lower belly.

Darien's eyes would have bugged out of his head if it were possible. All he could think of was that little tattoo, of a crescent moon with stars completing its circle, before he finally dragged his gaze away from that gorgeous patch of marred skin. Serena's gaze in return was smug, yet a gleam of mischief hung in the background.

Darien was too stunned to pay heed to it, "Where did you get that?"

Serena smiled brilliantly as she smoothed her clothes back in place and then seated herself back on the stool. Flipping one long ponytail back over her shoulder she winked at him, "Just walked in and got it. I went with my friends. They didn't ask how old we were or anything. I suppose I look older then I really am."

"So all your friends got tattoos too?" Darien asked, still stunned at the idea that Meatball Head, sweet, little Serena, had a tattoo!

"Yep. Ami, after a lot of badgering, let me tell you, got the cutest, little dolphin. Lita got a pirate logo, you know, the skulls and crossbones thing. Not very cute, but very Lita. Mina got a smiling sun on the opposite hip that I did and Rei got a scary looking bird made of fire. She put it right here." Serena turned slightly on the stool and pointed to the small of her back, signifying where Rei had put her phoenix tattoo, "Why didn't Andrew get one, if he was with you?"

Darien was almost tempted to say, "On the floor, eyes rolled into the back of his head." But instead said, "He just wasn't as primed as I was, I guess."

Serena shrugged, then leaned forward on her elbows propped on the counter and practically bubbled over with excitement, "Okay, your turn!"

"My turn?" Darien blinked, still dumbfounded by the idea of the new side of Serena Tsukino and her tattooed gang of friends.

"Yeah. That's the deal, I showed you my tattoo so you have to show me yours. Ante up." Serena's tone was as if she were explaining the terms to a five-year-old.

Not the best was of doing it, "I didn't agree to any deal."

Serena rounded her mouth into a surprised mew and lowered her brows a fraction, "But, I showed you! That isn't fair!"

"Not my problem."

"You jerk!" Serena screamed, stomped off of her stool and then thundered away. Basically she made a lot of noise, per the usual.

And also per the usual, she made a lot of noise coming back. Replacing her shapely behind back on the vinyl, upholstered stool, she stared straight ahead as she spoke, "Okay, you didn't agree to anything. But I did entrust you with my tattoo. You could indulge my curiosity for once, couldn't you?"

Darien tilted his head the blond's way and quirked a corner of his mouth up. Now, just what else was Serena so curious about him, eh? Because when it came right down to it, Darien would have to admit to being curious about her. For his personal arsenal in their verbal warfare, of course.

Nodding his head in physical agreement to his thoughts, Darien added another 'Of course,' to the last.

Serena had only understood the nod, seeing as how she was not a mind reader, and took it as a "Sure, I'll show you my tattoo," nod, "Cool! So where did you get it?"

"Get what?" Darien blinked, just coming out of his own head.

"The tattoo." Serena rolled her eyes at him once more, then continued without waiting for an answer, "What's it of?"

"Oh, it's a-" Darien halted as he realized he didn't really know. That morning, he had still been bleary-eyed with sleep and hangover. All he'd noticed was the big splotch of ink on his shoulder. After that it had been all about ridding himself of a thunderous pain. Oh, and his hangover, the first pain being Andrew.

But he wasn't going to let Serena know that he didn't know what his own tattoo looked like. And to avoid that, there was only one thing to do, "I'll just show you."

With a grimace, Darien pulled his right arm through the sleeve of t-shirt then pulled the hem over his torso. He watched with interest as Serena's eyes widened with surprise and she quickly looked away.

"What are you doing?" She hissed.

"Showing you my tattoo, what you've been bugging me about for the past fifteen minutes to see." Darien answered as he gently pulled at the tape on the gauze protecting his tender skin.

"Do you have to take off your shirt to do it?" Serena grumbled as she looked around the fruit parlor for anyone staring. Surely with such a fine hunk o' man half naked in the middle of a restaurant, a couple people (i.e. a gaggle of rabid, love-crazed girls) had to be enjoying the peep show.

Darien only emitted a choked laugh before he said, "Uh, yeah. Unless you have x-ray vision, in which case I 'm getting myself some lead underwear."

If possible, Serena turned a brighter shade of red, "Darien!"

"Relax, Meatball Head. I'm sure no one is getting the wrong idea. They've seen us clawing at each other too often to even fathom us getting along well enough to be stripping for one another." Darien noticed the warmth that spread through him as he looked at her, all pink and flustered, so obviously embarrassed. She was pretty cute, and in that white miniskirt, her legs were some of the nicest he'd ever seen. Not that he'd been admiring her legs. No, no, he'd never admire Meatball Head and her soft, curvy attributes.

No, what Darien did was ogle her soft, curvy attributes.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of very stray, very unwanted ideas about Serena, Darien worked the last bit of tape free and called her, "There you go, one tattoo for your perusal."

Biting her lip, an action that left Darien biting back a groan, Serena cautiously turned. She kept her eyes squeezed shut as she took a few short breaths, then finally, opened her eyes to behold his mighty tattoo. At least Darien hoped it was mighty, he would never think that, even drunk, he was much of a butterfly/fairy guy.

There was no reaction for a moment, which made Darien's stomach heave. What if it was something really inappropriate, like, "I love Lola," or a little old man with a conch shell over his privates? What if a cop came in and arrested him for peddling porn to minors? What if it was a tattoo of her face in a great, big, Valentine's Day, ruffled heart. Replete with arrow piercing it.

"Wow." Serena finally breathed, her words blasting warm on his shoulder, "This is really neat, Darien. It's very you."

Darien wasn't entirely sure, no, he was totally sure he didn't believe her. He wouldn't put it past the conniving, little twerp to pull the wool over his eyes. Next thing you know, she'd be coaxing him into buying a tattoo-bearing muscle tank and wearing it around until he got home and realized that his tattoo said, "I used to watch 'My Little Ponies'."

Either that or Serena was being nice and not belittling him for being stupid enough to get drunk and tattooed. Take your pick.

But just because of the pestering uncertainty, Darien craned his neck around and got his first, semi-good look at his new friend for life. Though upside down, Darien could plainly see the artfully inked form of a stylized dragon. The black beast wound itself around a perfect red rose. The thorns of the rose did not draw blood from his impenetrable sides and at the bottom, one of his massive talons held the rose tight.

"Hey, it is cool." Darien glanced up at Serena, who was still admiring its craftsmanship. 'And girls love it.'

Without thinking, Serena reached out a single fingertip and lightly traced it over the pointed tail of the dragon, up until she got to the velvet stem of the rose. Darien sucked in a deep breath, not specifically from any incredible pain but at the tingling trail Serena's finger made on his skin. Serena saw it as hurting where she only meant to explore, and automatically pulled back. Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and releasing it quickly, another nervous tick of Serena's that made Darien react in an unwanted way.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know what it felt like." Serena apologized, then tore her gaze from his, to the tattoo, and then into the arcade.

"It's okay." Darien accepted her apology and patted the gauze back over his baby then replaced his arm through the sleeve of his shirt. He had just tugged the hem back down over his middle when he found himself continuing the conversation, though for the life of him, he didn't know why, "Did yours hurt this much?"

Serena looked back at him, and seemed very much relieved that he'd put his clothes back on before she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and looked past him into the restaurant, "Not really. I'm a fast healer."

"Lucky you. I'm just glad I was toasted or I think I would have cried like a baby." Darien wanted to smack himself upside the head, or better yet, that still sore shoulder. Why would he admit that to Meatball Head? 'Shut up!'

"No way. I think all you'd need was someone to hold your hand and you'd be fine." Serena laughed, pulling a straw from the dispenser to keep her idle hands busy. She then looked at him through lowered lashes, then darted her eyes away again before she added, "You look very nice today, by the way. It's kind of nice to see you loosen up a little."

Darien was at a loss as to what to say, amazed anyone can find the state he was in aesthetically pleasing, but was compelled to repay the compliment with the sincereness she had payed his, "You look very pretty today too."

Serena blushed, then shrugged off the words by bouncing off the stool, "Hey, you better watch it buddy. You haven't said one rude thing to me in the past five minutes, and if anyone heard that, they'd think you were getting soft."

There she was, the Serena he was used to. Unflappable, bouncy and irritatingly up beat. But not so irritating anymore, Darien was chagrined to find. He kind of liked her, just the way she was.

Ah, he was getting soft. Alcohol and tattoos will do that to a guy. Even a red-blooded one, "Did someone have to hold your hand when you got your tattoo?"

"Nope, I'm a big tough girl." Serena flexed one slender arm before waving the hand attached and turning on her heel, "See you around, Darien!"

Darien only chuckled and twirled around to face the counter. She was an okay kid- all right, he'd admit it. An okay young woman. He took a glance around the place, watching for anyone gawking in awe at the public enemies benevolent parting, but saw none. Anymore of them though, and Darien was sure that they'd set the town a buzzin'.

Oh well, Darien was sure that eventually, he or Serena would say something that would set the usual bickering off again. One somewhat calm conversation wasn't going to change that.

"Oh, Darien."

Here we go.

Darien turned on his stool to see Serena standing just inside the doorway of the fruit parlor, "Yeah?"

"Wanna know the biggest difference between our tattoos? Well besides the obvious." Serena tried to smuggle a smile, but one corner of her trembling mouth betrayed her.

"What?" Darien sighed and played along, but his stomach and head said it would be something really bad.

And it was, "Mine comes off with alcohol and baby oil."

Hoo hoo! Serena, you little imp! You're in for it now!

How'd you like it? Let me know!

Muchos Smoochos