New Kid in Town
by Edmondia Dantes

Disclaimer: Not mine.

AN: This takes place sometime post-Galaxia, centers around the boys of BSSM, and takes place within some strange triple-blended manga/anime/PGSM canon milkshake with whipped cream and a cookie on top. I'd say spoilers lurk within, except they really don't, it's just that the fic really only makes logical sense if you've seen all of all three forms of Sailor Moon, and even then it's not so logical. Inside jokes for each series abound, because I amuse myself that way.

And you should recognize the four, because the Golden Crystal stuck in Mamoru's chest has got to be good for something other than just sitting there and sparkling real pretty-like.

Title affectionately yoinked from The Eagles, although the song has nothing to do with the story, it's just what first sprung to mind when I decided to name this thing.

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There was something very strange about Mamoru's new friends. Strange enough that Mamoru had any friends to speak of - but new ones were an entirely peculiar brand of weird. Motoki liked to think that he could understand Mamoru, except most of the time when he couldn't, and this was possibly even stranger than the fact that he was dating one Tsukino Usagi, much to the bemusement of everyone who knew them both, which admittedly wasn't very many people, which made it all that much stranger that Mamoru's new friends apparently did.

Privately, Motoki suspected brainwashing. Weirdos and aliens attacked all the time, and Mamoru was a loner and a weirdo, so doubtlessly he would be the first victim of an alien attack because no one would miss him. Except maybe him and Usagi and Asanuma and Reika and a few random classmates here and there. So of course the aliens would target him! an admittedly public and not-so-stealthy fashion, because he was fairly sure the four of them were crashing on Mamoru's floor, because when he'd gone knocking to grab Mamoru for a studying session, there'd been a suspiciously large pile of takeout boxes nearly spilling out of his trash can. Mamoru didn't have a messy apartment. Messy apartments were for normal people like him, not obsessive-compulsive neat freaks like Mamoru. Which made it all the stranger that he didn't seem to mind the clutter. Mamoru didn't do clutter.

Of course, there was the matter of one Tsukino Usagi, champion maker of messes and minor disasters throughout the greater Juuban area, not to mention her little cousin, who combined made the very masses tremble in fear, or at least dodge out of the way screaming in terror whenever one of them happened to be running late. After much head-scratching, Motoki had finally chalked it all up to a classic case of opposites attracting and stopped thinking about it before he permanently damaged his brain. At any rate, that didn't explain the new friends. The suspicious new friends. The non-medical-major new friends. The new friends who seemed very very comfortable wandering in and out of Mamoru's six-foot in diameter bubble of personal space. People lived in mild discomfort of being forced through that bubble, unless they were cute little blue-eyed blonde girls, who popped bubbles with reckless abandon, but nobody really minded because she was adorable.

...come to think of it, one of those "new friends" was blond and blue-eyed... and apparently cute, at least according to his own dearest darling little sister. And that thought was much too disturbing, so he was going to stop thinking of it. Right away.

Blue-eyed blonds should have been a stranger sight than they were, he supposed, but then he himself wasn't much of one to talk. This was the middle of Tokyo, after all, and strange hairstyles were a perfectly ordinary fact of daily life that was often the most amusing part of a long, boring day.

Funny how only Usagi got teased, though.

But anyway! Aliens! Aliens who were going to suck out Mamoru's brain! ...not that there was anything particularly interesting inside there, anyway, just a whole lot of medical knowledge, and he doubted that aliens would have any use for medicine that had been designed for humans in the first place. Just because the aliens looked human didn't mean that they were, after all. Maybe they secretly had eight eyes and fourteen legs! Maybe they were frilled lizards wearing holograms! Maybe they were trying to convert Mamoru to alien-ism!

...wait. Wasn't Mamoru an atheist? So why in the world would he become an alienist? Scratch that idea.

Strange new alien friends. Maybe it would be like that old American tv sitcom, with the fuzzy puppet. Or maybe they would grow to a giant size and rampage through Tokyo, squishing cars and pedestrians beneath their sneakers.

Motoki frowned. There was something very non-sinister about sneakers, but as far as he could tell, none of them wore proper stomping-boots. Frankly, considering some of Mamoru's unfortunate wardrobe choices in the past, this came as something of a relief. Maybe the aliens would get him to stop dressing like he was blind or like a supermodel. Mamoru seemed to alternate days as one or the other. No one could quite figure out why, but most of the guys on campus had agreed that it was a good thing. If he looked like a supermodel all the time, none of them would have dates, never mind that Mamoru seemed quite content to be dating Usagi. Maybe even happy, if that were a word that applied to Mamoru.

He'd certainly begun to seem happier than was probably healthy for him right around the time that those four had shown up. It was very suspicious - since when did Mamoru like people? New people, no less? Half the campus lived in awe of him, and the other half didn't quite get him, so where the hell had those four popped out of? The ground? Overlarge peaches? Very small rocks?

For that matter, he'd never seen a group of friends so completely in synch, yet so totally out of it. At the same time that they were finishing one another's sentences (and wasn't that disturbing) they were stumbling over one another's names and stuttering to a halt right in the middle of a discussion. And they all, down to the last man, seemed to have acquired Mamoru's habit of running off right in the middle of things with no explanation. Maybe Mamoru was an alien too!

...nah. Not even an alien would willingly hurl himself through the horrors of med school.

That was another thing. Those "new friends" were suddenly taking classes on campus. All at once. With at least one of them in every single one of Mamoru's classes. Perhaps they were stalkers, but the whole point of stalking was not to been seen, and it would be hard for them not to be seen when they were wandering about in public with Mamoru and sleeping on his floor. And taking his classes. And going out to lunch with him.

Really, it was just too bizarre. Maybe he'd fallen asleep and this was all some mad nightmare brought on by bad tofu. Mamoru? With friends? With a group of friends who seemed to have about as much in common as a milkshake and a coffee?

Usagi drank milkshakes and Mamoru drank coffee. Perhaps this was her doing! Her clever plan to get Mamoru to come out of his shell! Oh, what a sly genius she was, fooling everyone with her bubbly attitude and ridiculous grades!

But where the hell would she have met them? The playful blond of the group, yes, he could see them getting along, and maybe even the quiet sweet one who looked like a girl (but hit like a very well-trained kung fu master, as he'd most unfortunately discovered) but the stubborn-eyed brunet and the totally scary guy with the earrings seemed more like Yakuza thugs than anything else. Usagi's powers of sweetness and nice were mighty indeed, but he wasn't sure even those skills could have softened those frozen hearts.

And yet when Mamoru was around, the silver-eyed man smiled easily, and the brunet armwrestled the playful blond, and the girly one challenged Mamoru to vicious rounds of tic-tac-toe on the diner's napkins.

It was suspicious. It was bizarre. It was really, really, really weird.

And he'd never seen Mamoru look happier.

So if they really were evil aliens bent on world domination, and they really were trying to brainwash Chiba Mamoru into joining the Dark Side, maybe that was okay. Maybe when Mamoru became the Supreme Overlord of Earth he'd get him a cushy job in the new totalitarian regime.

Hey, a guy could dream. And maybe if he was just a little bit jealous of these strangers that had waltzed so easily into his best friend's life, maybe that was okay. They were certainly weird enough to match Mamoru's weirdness, which was more than he could ever say about himself.

Maybe everything would be okay.

He'd wait and see.

But they were still suspicious, so maybe, just maybe, he'd set up a network of spies to make sure they really weren't aliens with tentacles of doom and eyeballs the size of pumpkins.

Just in case.

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AN: Cookies and a drabble to anyone who gets all of the inside jokes.