How Do I Get You Alone?

Hola! Here's a fic I wrote quite a while ago, but it's still one of my favorites. Como siempre, Sailor Moon belongs to Queen Naoko & the Corporate Court. Alas. I could use the royalties. (Not to mention a certain bishounen...) Oh, and the title is a song by Heart which is really good but has absolutely nothing to do with the story.

Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)


How Do I Get You Alone?

By: Ladymage Samiko

You know, I usually have at least *one* good reason for everything I do. You probably don't believe me, but it's true. Honest. For instance, remember . . . Well, I always have a perfectly good reason for visiting the arcade. It used to be Andrew, but I got over that pretty quickly after I met Darien. And I have a *very* good reason for not studying. I need to sleep and eat and fight monsters. Simple as that.

Anyway, my point is that I had very good reasons for trying to get Darien alone. Actually, I had *three* good reasons for trying. Let me tell you:

1) I love him. He loves me. While I can love from afar (or anywhere else for that matter) I would much prefer for him to remember that the feeling is *mutual*. I don't even care if he never remembers what happened before. After all, it's not my fault only my memory got revived. It's Luna's. I wish for a normal life, and my memory gets *erased*! And not only mine, but my friends and Darien's as well. I wouldn't have minded except for the fact that Luna revived my memory to fight these new cardian things BUT she didn't do that to anyone ELSE! Just me! Oh, yeah, she brought the senshi back too, but only when they were about to be killed. And not ONCE has she even MENTIONED bringing Darien back. Honestly! Sometimes I wonder if that cat even has a heart. 'The path of true love never did run on roller skates' as Mina would say, but couldn't that darned cat make it just a *little* bit easier. It seems to me like the two of us have had enough problems . . .

2) Not only have *we* had masses of problems in our love life, but Darien's just had problems period. For once, he deserves the sweet end of the lollipop, not the stick. I mean, he lives alone. For the past fourteen YEARS, he's lived alone, without parents, friends (except for Andrew), or anybody else in his life. And the poor guy doesn't even remember his parents. Then, he gets dragged into the fight with the Negaverse and nobody ever really bothered to tell him what in the heck was really going on. Those dreams were all very well and good, but even I had Luna to help me. And then he gets brainwashed by that witch with a capital B, Beryl, and then he dies for the SECOND time. Face it, the guy has never had an easy life.

3) And the final reason . . . Well, I'm a healthy, red-blooded female, aren't I?! For pity's sake, we haven't even *kissed* in one thousand sixteen years, three months, and five days!! (but who's counting?) Think about it. We met, fell in love, and then both get killed by Beryl. Queen Serenity goes through tremendous trouble to bring us back (THANK YOU, MOM!!!) and what do we do? We fight like cats and dogs every time we meet. It's kinda fun and all, but when I think of those times back on the Moon . . . We FINALLY get our memories back, and what happens? He nearly DIES! Then, he gets kidnapped and brainwashed while I'm left here worrying myself to death over him and then he nearly kills me! Literally! I manage to bring his memory back again, but before anything good can happen, he DIES! AGAIN!! You can imagine how frustrated I'm getting. I've known this guy and been head over heels for him for over a thousand years, and what has happened? Nothing. I'm tremendously happy we're all still alive, that we survived everything, but darnit, I want him to remember! I'm fifteen for heaven's sake! He hasn't even gotten one single chance to even *kiss* me in this lifetime, and now that he *can* he doesn't realize it! Arghh!!!

So you see, I had plenty of reasons for everything I did.

My first try was fairly easy. I figure, why mess with what works? So, three o' clock rolls round and there I am, complete with crumpled test paper. (Miss H. conveniently gave me a thirty.)

3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

"Hey, Meatball Head! What do I look like, a trash can!?" Now where have I heard that before, hmm? But time for a little change in pace.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I taunted him. "But you know what? Something's not right." I bite my lip in just the way I've been practicing. Hmm. Nothing yet. Okay, you asked for it Dare-chan. . . "Oh, I know! Trash cans don't have these!" Praying to whatever gods there are, I snatch his satchel and start running like mad. I hear an angry shout from behind me and loft the bag in the air. "Whoo-hoo! Catch me if you can, Darien!"

"You little brat! Come back here!" Uh-oh, that's too close. A little S. Moon energy, please! I don't want him to catch me yet.

So I keep it up till we reach the park. I figure that bench~ is bound to knock something loose. Then I slow down enough to let him catch up and whatever I said must have worked, cause the gods let me have perfect timing. Just as he caught up to me, I had the klutz attack I was worrying about. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. . . With perfect instinct (or habit, more likely) he catches me and I find myself nose-to-chest with him, my hands trapped between us. Mmm . . . For a few seconds I let my mind travel to all those other times. . . I looked up and found his eyes glittering with anger. Then they began to flicker with other emotions. Come on, Dare-chan, come on! You can remember! I finally figured out that I was leaning towards him and my hands had dropped the satchel and were free to do--other things.

All of a sudden, he pushed me away roughly. Disappointed, I searched his face. Confusion had set in. True, the man has the most unreadable face in the known universe, but I haven't spent two lifetimes studying it for nothing. Anger clicked back in as he grabbed the bag I'd forgotten.

"If you *ever* try that again, Meatball . . ." He turned on his heel and strode quickly away while I stood watching his hips move. Shaking my head to clear it (he's more distracting than an ice-cream-totin' youma), I hugged myself. Not yet. But I was close. Back to the drawing board, Serena!


Being me, I've mixed manga and anime again. The bench I'm talkin' bout is in the manga where Serena and Darien meet after Serena's discovered his identity and they promise to exchange watch and handkerchief. Ladymage ;)


Well, next day, I tried the up-front approach. Try to knock it into the man's head.

"Hey, Dar-ien!" I finish quickly. Oops! Almost called him Dare-chan, and I don't think he's quite ready for that yet. He turned and watched me warily as I ran up to him.

"How lovely to see you again, Meatball Head," he drawled. Do you know that that annoying tone of voice is the one thing about Darien I positively can't *stand*? Temper temper, Serena. "Going for grand theft again? Or just the ordinary klutz performance?"

"For your information, DARIEN, I wanted to show you something." That darned eyebrow of his quirked up. How does he *do* that!? I took out the folder of stuff I had worked on all last night. "See, Darien, this is the Moon Princess, who lived over a thousand years ago . . ." Maybe he just had to be force-fed the idea. Could've worked . . .

But the Vulture appeared.

"Hey, Darien!" came the bright--though rather strangled, I think--voice, as Ann came up to us and attached herself to Darien's arm. What do you think you're doing, cow-face? Darien is *my* boyfriend! Can't you get that through your thick head? She turned to me, and in a low voice, said, "Get lost, Serena," before turning back to him with a sickening smile. Please, someone get me a barf bag! Better yet, don't. I might hit her in the process. "Whatcha up to?"

"Uh, nothing much," he answered, looking at her uncertainly, kinda like when you see a dog and aren't sure if it's rabid or not. Will she bite, or won't she? Hee hee. You can tell I enjoyed *that* expression.

"Great!" she choked. "There's a great cafe just down the street called The Princess's Pantry~. Wanna join me?" Without waiting for an answer, she began to drag Darien along. Oh no you don't, witch! That place is *our* special spot. No way in hell I'm lettin' *you* take Darien there alone. And of course Darien's too much of a gentleman to stop her. Darn.

"Sure, we'd love to join you, wouldn't we, Darien? I know I'm majorly hungry." I pasted a bright smile on my face as Ann looked at me, ready to kill, and Dare-chan smirked in that old familiar fashion.

"I should've guessed. Meatball Head's always hungry. What've you got in there anyway, a garbage disposal?" Up with the eyebrow as his eyes traveled up and down me. That's a good Dare-chan . . . Why do you think I shortened my skirt? Every little bit helps. Or would if Ann hadn't burst out in choked giggles. Drat it. She smiled and flirted all the way to the cafe, not letting me get a single word in edgewise. Okay. I can deal with this. Just give me the opportunity.

I was so glad that we did not get our usual table at the cafe. Ann's presence would have-- dirtied it, somehow, I guess. Cast a shadow over all the memories we had made there, both happy and sad. Well, we sat down and I decided to try Plan B again. I took out my folder again and showed Darien my pictures. They weren't from the Sistine Chapel (amazed I know about that, aintcha? Hee ; b ) but they weren't Picassos either. They looked perfectly fine to me, if not up to manga standards.

Darien looked from the pictures to me with an odd look on his face. Ann's reaction was more direct.

"Jeez, Serena, whadja do, have your cat draw those things? My brother could do better than that. You should throw them away; Darien wouldn't want do see stuff like that, would ya, Darien?" Ouch! I knew she didn't like me, but that hurt. I worked all night on those things! I didn't want to, but the tears came. I went through ten napkins in ten seconds.

"They're not *that* bad, Ann. Come on, Serena, let me have another look."

"No. No, that's OK, Darien. I'll just put them away and start home. It's late, anyway, and I--" I was cut off when my hand, which had been shuffling through the papers, was stilled by the pressure of another. My misery stopped and I closed my eyes, reveling in the first voluntary contact I had had with Darien since the day we defeated Beryl. His hand was so warm, and when I looked, his eyes were so very blue, like the very first day I saw them. Mmm. . .

We poured over the pages. As he suggested changes--a new line there, erasure here--I flicked my gaze back and forth, to see if the story I was telling was having any effect. I'm still not sure, but something was happening.

And then, of course, comes the earthquake.

Ann had been forgotten. I had no objection to it, but she could tell she had made a mistake. So she tried to fix it. She edged closer to me, pretending to be just as interested in my pictures as us two. Then, she struck. That d----- b---- (excuse the language, please) is just as devious as that witch, Zoisite. With a slight flick of the finger, her coffee cup tipped--right onto my drawings.

Ann gave tons of apologies, none that I believed, but Dare-chan was swallowing every saccharine mouthful. As he tried to mop up, he kept reassuring Ann that it was okay, he knew it was an accident. Yeah, right. Me, I "fumbled" with my papers and--whoops!--I tilted it the wrong way and all the coffee that had puddled slipped off of them and onto Ann's miraculously short skirt. (I still can't figure out how she was able to sit in that thing.) With the same profuse (Oh! Amy Word! Amy Word!) apologies, I tried to help her clean up. She pushed my hands away with a disgusted grunt and stalked off to the bathroom. Darien stared at both of us open-mouthed. I figured now was not the best time to push my luck. And so the second try came to an end. Getting better, Serena . . .


You have know idea what in the hell this place is. Don't worry. You're not supposed to. I created The Princess' Pantry for another little fanfic that isn't done yet. Gomen nasai, but that's the way it is. I'll finish that one as soon as possible, kay? Ladymage ;)


Okay. So far I had tried fairly subtle means. Nothing too drastic. But things kept getting in my way before I could make any real progress. So, now I brought in the big guns. As Lita loves to say, "Nothing like the direct approach!"

I waited until we had a day where we fought a youma during the day. It's majorly tiring, but I didn't want to be interrupted, and I knew that those creeps never send two in the same day. A long shot, but I wanted as many distractions out of the way as possible. Luna went over to Mina's to talk to Artemis about strategy (that's what *she* says, anyway) and everyone else was fast asleep. Okay. Serena, you can do this.

I made my preparations as quickly and as quietly as I could, and was amazed when no one woke up. I wondered whether to take my "meatballs" out or leave them up as usual. Leave em up, I thought. It's a sure-fire remembrance of *any* of our lifetimes. I changed into Sailor Moon ("all the better to hunt you with, my dear"), took a deep breath, and jumped out of my window.

You know, it's amazing what Tokyo looks like late at night, especially from housetops and several-storied apartment buildings. I'd never taken a "pleasure cruise" as Sailor Moon and I was totally blown away by the romance of it all. The lights of all the housing were off, so that the glow of street lights, the nightclubs, and most especially Tokyo Tower shone clear into the cool night air. From when and where I was, it was totally silent, too. I dreamed of Tuxedo Mask at my side, smiling, saying things only I would ever hear . . .

I gave myself a small shake (I wanted to keep some of the moment) and continued on my way. Mmm, the breeze on my face, warm arms keeping the night air from being too chill . . . *blush* Sorry. Didn't mean to say that. Anyway, about five minutes later, I reached his apartment. I prayed to God he didn't have another night life I *didn't* know about. I mean, the guy has at least *three* different alter egos. I don't know how he manages without going absolutely schizo.

After arguing with myself for a few seconds, I decided to try the front door. Once there, I demorphed back into what I was wearing before I left the house. What was it, you ask? Something small I had picked up with Mina after all the emotional blow-up last time. "In case of a *special* occasion," we had told each other, "or an absolute emergency." Considering the times, emergencies were plentiful. Just not the right kind. *red glow* In any case, it was in delicate shades of lilac and cream, and *small* is the best description I can give you. Well, that I *will* give you. ;p The matching "robe" was not as small, but certainly no more concealing. It was also kinda cold. But I guess those things aren't made for standing around in deserted hallways. At least, I *hoped* they would stay deserted.

I knocked quietly on the door, and thanked any god that existed that Dare-chan is a light sleeper. Unfortunately, he's also a very quiet walker, so I didn't hear him until he opened the door and looked sleepily out. His eyes widened as he absorbed the scene facing him. I flatter myself that it was quite . . . absorbing.

"Mea--" he choked out before I pounced. I had prepared myself and put all my energy into the leap (you *do* remember he's a foot taller than I am, right?), throwing my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his, and managing to wrap one leg around his waist in order to hold myself steady. His arms came around me automatically, but it took a little while before I was sure they were meant to hold me instead of pull me off. By then his lips were, um, doing what they were supposed to do. (And quite well, I might add. In fac--*This Section Censored by Order of Neo-King Endymion* *giggle* "You're so cute when you blush, Dare-chan." *blush* "Shut up, Sere.") Anyway, things were going quite well, I thought, when he suddenly sat up and physically moved me to the furthest corner of the couch (which is where we were, by the way). Then, he stood up and began pacing the room. While I desperately missed the sensations of a few seconds ago, the sight of a shirtless Dare-chan was certainly not to go unappreciated. I was kinda hurt, though, that this hadn't worked, and I guess my face showed it, though for once I was trying to keep quiet. Maybe he was figuring things out.

"Meatball Head," he began, and I started crying. That tone of voice did *not* sound right. "Meatball Head, I knew you were strange, but now I *know* you're completely nuts! Do you have any idea about what you're doing?! Do your PARENTS have any idea where in the hell you are?!"

I sniffled. "No," I answered in a very small voice. It hadn't worked. I'd pulled nearly every weapon in my arsenal and he still couldn't remember me. Remember *us*. He probably just thought I was a pathetic little teenager with hormones up to my meatballs. I pulled the gauzy cloth closer to me and stared down at my feet. Suddenly, they weren't there anymore. I looked up in surprise to find him carrying me.

Darien's face was two inches from mine. "Good," came a low murmur in my ear. "I'd hate to be shot in the middle of courting my princess."

I stared at him, my eyes wide in shock and hope. "Dare-chan?" I managed to choke out.

He read my face as easily as I can usually read his. "Shh, Sere. You are my Serena, my Sailor Moon, my Princess Serenity. My Meatball Head." God, his eyes were gorgeous. "I am your Darien, your Tuxedo Mask, your Prince Endymion."

"My Stupid Jerk," I whispered softly, smiling.

A small, deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "That, too." He lowered his eyes, taking in my entire outfit. Or lack thereof. You know, if I didn't know any better (and trust me, I *know*), I'd swear he uses mascara. The man has eyelashes any woman would kill for, long, black, and thick. And *I* am the only one who *really* gets to enjoy them. His eyes moved slowly back to my face, and had turned a dark navy color. I can't begin to tell you what that did to me. I was on Cloud Nine anyway. My stomach, which had been jumping up and down, now began to turn somersaults and cartwheels. "You certainly know how to dress, Serena," he told me, warm undercurrents in his voice that did a number of things to my spine.

"Mina helped me pick it out," I whispered.

"Remind me to thank Mina next time I see her," he said, before an evil grin spread across his face.

Needless to say, there wasn't any more, um, understandable, conversation for a long time.

You know, I don't even know if he closed the front door.