Title: Wild, Wild
Word Count: 1,988

This was written for Sailor Moon Land's What If November monthly writing battle. We were given a list of AUs (including but not limited to gender benders, zombies, vampires, and the Victorian era) and told to write for one, or any combination. I decided to smoosh gender bender with a Western. This isn't serious and shouldn't be taken seriously. At all. Also: Join Sailor Moon Land on LiveJournal!


The dusty town was quiet. Too quiet. Moon knew the look of towns like this on the frontier. Quiet one minute, filled with gunfire the next. He loved towns like this. They were the exciting kind.

But they were always boring first.

"I'm bored," Moon groaned, flopping across the table, knocking over Mars's tequila. It wasn't really a loss, though. The tequila here was only moderately better than watered down piss.

"God damn it," Mars hissed, his dark eyes flashing. "You keep knocking over my drinks and I'll knock your head off."

Moon dug his finger into his ear, grinning without shame. "What was that?" he asked, a little too loudly. Others in the saloon stared for a moment but turned away when they realized he was probably just another drunk. "I can't hear you with all the awesome that's been plugged up in my ears."

Slamming his fists on the table, Mars growled. "I can't work with this vermin anymore!" His eyes fell on the other three men. Venus and Jupiter were snickering quietly while Mercury, nose buried in the newspaper, was obviously trying to pretend he didn't find any of this interesting. Likely, he really didn't find it interesting.

"You don't really mean that, partner," Moon said, batting his eyes at Mars. Mars stared at him like he had turned into a man-sized lizard.

"Yes, I do," Mars muttered as Mercury laid the paper on the table.

"Look," he said, his tone barely concealing excitement. Moon peeled himself away from Mars and peered at the paper. He had a hard time reading the blocky print the papers used. "There's another article about the Seaman Sailors."

Jupiter snorted. "That's redundant, innit?"

"What's redundant?" Venus asked, eyes widening.

"It's when two things repeat themselves twice," Moon said loftily.

Mercury punched his shoulder, hard. Muttering about that, Moon drew away with a frown. "Look, it says we travel from town to town, hunting the Gemstone Bandits." He placed his finger under a line and began reading. "'The Seaman Sailors, as they have come to be called, based on their manner of dress being very much like the Navy seaman uniforms, always appear at just the right timing to save folk. Calling themselves after celestial bodies, they're mean shots and can be identifiable by means of their talking horses.'"

Pulling an unhappy face, Mars crossed his arms. "We need to be more careful."

"On what count d'you reckon that?" Venus asked.

"We can't just go blurting out our names in public, that's what count I reckon it on," Mars snapped back. "We should just be using our civilian names."

"Ain't got no civvie name," Moon grumbled, and Jupiter nodded. Jupiter's parents had died of the cholera when he was just a boy. Moon's parents had lost him when Moon had been five. Consensus was, coyotes raised him.

"And I'm not too fond of my own," Venus said, scratching his stubbly chin. "Minnie. Who names their son Minnie?"

Rolling his eyes, Mars crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "Fine, then," he groused, displeased with the reception. "What else does the damn paper say?"

"That we are heroes to be lauded," Mercury said.

"Now, see." Jupiter leaned forward, a grin on his face. "I reckon we ought to get something for this. A comeuppance."

Mercury choked. "A comeuppance is a bad thing, Jupe," he said. "You mean a reward."

"Right," said Jupiter. "A reward."

A scream came from outside, and the five men swung their gazes toward the saloon door. A second later, a shot rang out.

A slow, dangerous grin made its way across Moon's face, and it was mirrored on Jupiter's. Tugging the front of his vest, Moon stood. "Well, ladies, I'm going to go shoot me some varmints." He caught his hat with the toe of his boot, kicked it into the air, and set it on his head. "So if you'll be excusin' me."

Moon strode purposefully from the saloon, rounded the building's corner, and glanced around the back. No one was there, perfect. Grasping his hat in his right hand, he pulled it off his head, like he was doffing it out of respect to a pretty girl. "Moon Shotgun Power," he said, flipping the hat once before grabbing the brim and holding it in the air. "Draw!"

There was a flash of ridiculous, gaudy lights. Where once "Moon" stood in leather and cotton that stank of beer and sweat was now Sailor Moon. Or, as he preferred to be called, Commander Moon. Because, seriously. He was in command of the Seaman Sailors, to hell with what the talking horses had to say.

Leaping upward, Commander Moon landed easily on the roof of the saloon. His dress white shirt stood out in the brown landscape of the American West, and the blue pants and shiny black boots didn't help. But that wasn't a problem. No, the problem was them Bandits thinking they could rob the town bank and get away with it.

The sounds of booted feet behind him made him turn.

Lieutenant Commander Venus stood at the front of the group, arms crossed. Behind him were Lieutenants Jupiter and Mars, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Mercury. None of them approved of this "Sailor Planet Name" business. The only differences in their uniforms, aside from decoration and rank insignia, were the colors of their hats, collars, and pants.

"We ain't about to let you dust these yeller bitches alone," Jupiter said, cracking his knuckles. He wore a slightly disturbing grin.

Mars scoffed, not looking at anyone in the group. "Can't let you get all the damn fun."

With a vibrant smile, Moon nodded. "Y'all ready for this, then?" he asked, pulling his silver gun from the holster at his hip.

The other four men nodded, and as one body, they jumped from the roof.

Moon hit the ground in the middle of the street and launched himself upward. Spinning his gun by the trigger, he caught the handle and called out, "Moon Shooter!" A completely implausible number of bullets exploded from the end of his gun and rained down on the Gemstone Bandits.

"Venus Whip!" A golden band of light shot past Moon's head.

"Mars Howitzer!" Fire coursed down Venus's whip.

With no small amount of satisfaction, Moon watched the whip grab hold one of the Gemstone Bandits' lackeys by the wrist. The creature – for that's what it was – exploded into silvery powder.

The blonde bandit with the short hair whirled, her green eyes narrowed. "You!"

"Howdy, ma'am," Moon said lightly, tipping his hat to Jadeite. "Hopin' you don't mind us folk beatin' your face today." Half the reason the Gemstone Bandits got away with what they got away with was on account of them being mostly women folk.

But not ladies. You couldn't call them Bandits ladies.

Tossing her bag of money at the redheaded Bandit, Jadeite rushed forward. Moon leaped back, and Jupiter slammed into Jadeite from the side, crashing with her into the side of the post office. His left hand tight around Jadeite's neck, he lifted his right hand, curling his fingers into a fist. "Jupiter!" Jupiter, Moon noted dispassionately, never seemed to know his own strength and had no problem hitting a bitch. "Electrocution!" Jupiter slammed his fist, crackling with electricity, into Jadeite's face. Blood spurted out her broken nose.

"Moon, move it!"

Moon jerked his attention back to the Bandits as the one called Zoisite tore down the road in his direction. With an arrogant grin, Moon slid his feet apart and turned his shoulder toward Zoisite. "Let's dance," he said under his breath, sliding his finger around the trigger of his revolver. Lifting his arm, his grin growing wider, he aimed for the ground at Zoisite's feet. "Fire."

Zoisite dropped, screaming, blood gushing from three separate holes in her feet.

"Son of a whore!" That was directed at Moon, and he belatedly remembered that shooting Zoisite generally pissed of the white-haired Bandit. More fun for him.

"Mercury Geyser!"

The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and it would have been problematic if Moon didn't know what was coming. Unlike the Bandits, he had been watching Mercury practice this new move for weeks. So while Kunzite barreled toward him, Moon stood polishing a speck of dirt off the side of his gun.

Boiling water burst through the ground and shot straight into Kunzite's face. With Kunzite incapacitated, Jupiter pounding Jadeite's face to pulp, and Venus and Mars chasing Nephrite, that left him and Mercury to deal with Beryl, the Gemstone Bandits' infamous leader. With his rattlesnake venom lipstick, he had a kiss that could kill.

No one had quite figured why a man was painting up his face all pretty-like.

"You reckon you know where Beryl is?" Moon asked Mercury.

Mercury tapped the side of his hat, and a strange set of bifocals unfurled in front of his eyes. He scanned the environment and then pointed at the bank. "Still inside. I suspect Ballgown Slipper is with him."

Moon dragged his gloved hand down his face. "God's balls, you'd like to figure that girl'd have it through her thick skull by now."

A look of disbelief on his face, Mercury disabled the bifocals. "Ballgown Slipper is as thick as they come," he reminded Moon. "You go rescue her again. I'll manage Miss Kunzite." Crouching beside Kunzite's body, Mercury touched his hand to her arm. "Mercury Freezing Ice."

Moon didn't wait to see the thick block of ice form around Kunzites's body. Off and running, he punched in the door to the bank. Beryl stood by the door to the vault, the muzzle of his revolver pressed to Ballgown Slipper's head. Slipper, for her part, was crying, her thick makeup running down her cheeks.

"Beryl."

"Seaman Moon." He snickered.

Oh, yeah. Penis jokes. That was new.

"Commander Moon," Slipper cooed around her tears. "You're here to save me!"

Moon glared at her. "Ma'am, I'd like to remind you, again, that you ain't be needing saving if you just stay with your daddy at home."

"But home is boring," Slipper simpered. "And you're so strong and manly."

Beryl patted Slipper's head. "Yes, Moon," he said, emulating Slipper's obnoxiously high-pitched voice perfectly. "You're so strong and manly. Now call off your brigade or I'll blow her brains out."

Moon crossed his arms. "No, you ain't gonna do that."

Startled, Beryl stiffed. "Excuse me?"

"I'm callin' your bluff now, just like I call your bluff every time. You want to marry Slipper, not shoot her."

The two mortal enemies stared at each other for a long while, Moon grinning wildly, Beryl glaring viciously. As the seconds stretched into minutes, Moon's muscles tightened and coiled. He was waiting for that perfect moment, that exact instant.

Beryl swung his pistol at Moon, and Moon raised his own. They fired.

There was an explosion between them where the bullets met. It was strong enough to knock Slipper over, and it would've hit Beryl and Moon, had they not launched themselves in the air, using the blast to their advantage.

With a vicious grin, Beryl propelled himself off a beam holding up the roof, grabbing on the chandelier. He leveled his pistol at Moon. "You're going to die today!"

Moon cocked his head to the side. "Yeah?"

"MARS HOWITZER."

The ropes holding the chandelier went up in flames, and Beryl crashed to the ground, unconscious.

Slipper flung herself at Moon, wrapping her arms around his waist. "My hero!"

Moon sighed, tilting his head back and looking at his friends. All standing on one of the rafters, they looked back at him. And then the left by way of the large window on the front of the building, leaving Moon to his fate.

He dragged his hand down his face as Slipper pressed her boobs against his chest.

Where was a good whore when you needed one?