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Silver and Steel by Nephthys Moon

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“It seems you were successful,” Mamoru whispered as they found themselves in a strikingly familiar position. Of course, she acknowledged, two nights ago it had been she and Mamoru lying asleep while Motoki and Makoto had stared in shock.

“So it seems,” she agreed. “Shall I scream?” Her eyes lit with devilment.

“Nah,” he said, his face wreathed in smiles. “I know something that will freak them out more.” He tiptoed across the room and settled himself under the pink bunny blanked on her bed, holding the covers aloft so that she could climb under them.

“You are so bad,” she scolded as she slipped into his arms. He settled the blanket over them both and tucked her under his arm as they lay on their sides, both watching for the couple on the other bed to wake up.

“I am,” he admitted. “You should probably run far and fast, Usa-ko.”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” she teased. He really was quite wonderful when he was playful like this, she decided. A soft snore at her back drew her attention, and she shifted slightly in his arms, looking up at his face, slack and peaceful in sleep. He couldn’t have gotten much more sleep than she had, she realized belatedly, closing her eyes at the thought. Within minutes, she, too was asleep.

~~~


“Why don’t you try again?” Artemis asked. “She’s asleep.”

“But Mamoru-san’s still there,” Luna reminded him. “I’m hoping to catch her when he’s not around – perhaps that will stir some of her memories that aren’t associated with him.”

“That might take weeks,” Artemis grumbled. “We need at least one of them to awaken now. Why not dig for deeper memories? Ones where she hadn’t yet realized who she and Mamoru-san were?”

“I could try that,” she said hesitantly. Artemis growled.

“Just do it!” Luna closed her eyes.

~~~


“There you are!” Usagi spun. She knew that voice. It was Mamoru and for once he sounded pleased to see her. She found herself running towards him, her arms open before she realized that he was dressed in the same armor she’d seen him in once before. Her mind tried to pull away as her body drew closer. She tried to force herself to back away from the outstretched arms, remembering those fingers around her neck. She closed her eyes, wondering why her body refused to obey her, waiting for the blow to strike.

Instead, soft hands wrapped themselves around her waist and held her gently, lightly caressing her through the thin fabric of her gown. She rolled her eyes. Why did she wear such things in her dreams?

Not a dream, Usagi-chan, the voice said again. A memory. Remember, Usagi-chan. Please remember.

Remember what? she wanted to ask – to cry out towards the receding voice, but as she opened her mouth, Mamoru lowered his.

She was nothing, then, but sensation. She existed only where their bodies touched. His hands were the only anchors she had in a world without gravity, the cool brush of his armor against her exposed upper chest the only thing that could cool her skin. His lips were fire, fire that rushed throughout her body. It was everything she’d experienced in those fleeting seconds by her front door amplified by thousands – tens of thousands and interlaced with something else – the thrill of the forbidden.

His hand trailed up her waist, resting millimeters below her breast and she gasped, drawing him closer. The dream was like nothing she’d ever remembered experiencing and she fought against the urge to open her eyes, to make sure that it was really Mamoru-baka who was igniting this in her, but she was not in control of her body. That much had been apparent from the moment that her dream self had rushed into his arms instead of cringing in terror at the sight of his armor.

Her eyes opened.

She was in her bedroom, but the sensation of the dream hadn’t ended. She was still on fire, could still feel his hand resting on her ribcage. Her eyes blinked rapidly and her breath came in short, quick pants. Usagi bit back a groan and closed her eyes, trying to reclaim her dream.

The fire was at her neck, she realized belatedly, and her eyes shot open. She looked down and encountered two things that stole her breath; a head of silky black hair buried in her throat and the bare skin of her own stomach with an arm resting across it. The t-shirt was pushed up, barely covering the bottoms of her breasts.

She didn’t fight it.

One dainty hand reached up, entangling itself in those short, ebony locks and the other snaked across the bare shoulder, pulling him closer. This electric feeling – it was what she’d missed in her rare experiences over recent years. It was as though every argument, every battle had been leading towards this moment and she was powerless to stop it – didn’t want to think about stopping it.

The wet glide of his tongue against the skin of her neck, the feel of his hand so very close to her breast – she tugged his head back and reclaimed his mouth, drawing in her breath sharply as his fingers finally - finally - reached for her breast, lightly brushing the underside with tender, reverent strokes.

“You know, I thought that when you told me to stay here last night I would be safe from walking in on this,” a voice muttered darkly from across the room and Usagi nearly wept when Mamoru broke from her grasp, turning to face the voice.

“Ah – sorry, Motoki-kun,” he mumbled. Usagi was delighted to see a blush warm his face. “I kind of forgot where we were for a minute there.”

“More like ten minutes, but hey – who’s counting?” Motoki mumbled. “You’re just lucky Mako-chan is already up.”

“Wait,” Usagi said, remembrance finally coming to her even as Mamoru tried to discreetly lower her shirt. “What were you doing in Mako-chan’s bed this morning?”

“Sleeping,” Motoki said innocently, and Usagi’s eyes narrowed as they met the blonde’s. “I swear, Tsukino-san, I didn’t touch her.”

“He’s lying,” another voice said, and Usagi shifted her head to peek around Mamoru’s shoulder to see the speaker. “He did touch me – but nothing that I objected to or that you could possibly find anything to say about, considering where you were just being touched.” Makoto’s eyes were gleaming as she met Usagi’s and the girls shared a small smile.

“What did you expect, Usa-ko?” Mamoru murmured in her ear. The warmth of his breath gave her goosebumps and she shivered in response. “You wanted them to realize they liked each other.”

“Now, Mamoru-san,” Makoto said sternly from the doorway.

“Now you’re in for it,” Usagi whispered, delighting in the way he shuddered above her.

“There’s one thing I need to know before we leave you to get back to – whatever it was you were doing,” the brunette continued. Usagi giggled as he gulped loudly. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled?” he squeaked out and she nodded.

“Come on, Motoki-kun,” Makoto muttered. “Let’s leave them to ‘explore’ their feelings a bit while we go make breakfast.”

When the other two left, Usagi was disappointed that Mamoru pulled away and settled himself next to her instead of continuing where they’d left off.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled softly.

“Another dream, Usa-ko?” he was looking at her oddly, and for the first time, Usagi began to wonder how her dream had continued on that way.

“Did I…” she trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He just nodded. “I’m so sorry,” she forced out, ducking her head in shame. “I was dreaming that you and I were – that we were – and when I woke up, it was still happening.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “Do you remember last night, when you said that you were afraid that we might become friends?” Usagi nodded. “I think maybe it’s a little late for that.”

“Why?” she said, stricken.

“I think we’ve passed beyond friendship – the question is now what?” he asked slowly. “Do we continue the charade and have our public ‘break-up’ when it’s finished? Or do we take a few steps back and ‘explore our feelings’?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She hadn’t really thought about her feelings – at least not the emotional ones – since she woke up from her dream.

“Maybe a night off – we both have class early tomorrow and we could probably use the sleep,” he suggested. “But – if you have a nightmare, Usa-ko, I want you to call me immediately.” She nodded, wondering why that seemed so disheartening. He dropped a soft kiss on her nose. “Don’t look so sad, Odango Atama,” he teased, bringing a smile to her face. “It’s just for tonight.”

“I need to finish my lab report anyway,” she muttered, sticking her tongue out at him. “Go home, Baka! I’ll see you tomorrow after class – say around ten?” He nodded and climbed out of the bed, disappearing from sight.

Usagi pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them forlornly. Within a few moments, her head drifted down, her face buried in her knees. Mamoru was right, of course – she’d known it, too. Things had changed between them and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for this change, or if she even wanted it. Where would she be without her friend, the enemy? At least some of her efforts in her studies had come from a desire to rub the grades in his face. At least some of her efforts to become more graceful had been to prevent him from commenting on her clumsiness. At least some of her dissatisfaction with her perpetual tardiness had come from wanting to give him one less thing to tease her about.

In fact, many things she did, Usagi realized, were done, at least in part, with him in mind. She’d brushed up on her vocabulary to best him in their daily arguments at the arcade in high school. As she looked back on what she could remember of the past four years, she began to wonder what she did that didn’t have some link to Mamoru. For years she’d worn her hair in the same style, but within two months of waking from her coma – two months of daily run-ins, she’d begun changing it at least once a week. Some days she would braid it, some wear it low at her nape in a single ponytail and even some days she’d wear it loose. And all – or at least part – of that was because of his incessant teasing about her hair.

Did she really want to give up their adversarial bickering to have a fleeting relationship with him and be left with nothing but real animosity when it was finished? She’d seen what had happened to Umino and Naru’s friendship after their relationship had cooled – they couldn’t even be in the same room with the other. She was fifteen when she realized there was no malice in Mamoru’s treatment of her. Did she really want to give up the comfortable teasing and open herself up to the eventual return of their original dislike – or worse?

What if it doesn’t end, though, Usagi-chan? the voice whispered softly through her mind. What if it just gets better?

Supposing for a moment that was even possible – do I really want that in place of what we had before? she asked. As usual, the voice had no answer. It went silent, as it always seemed to when she asked the hard questions of it. What good was having a conscience if it didn’t answer those important problems?

It did make her think, though. What if she and Mamoru ended up together – for real? An image of herself in a billowing white gown, with flowers wreathing her head popped into her mind. Her face was so happy as she walked through a beautiful church festooned with brilliant, blood-red roses – and Mamoru was waiting for her at the other end. A tear slipped down her cheek.

No, she decided. She didn’t want that if it meant she had to give up everything she’d become accustomed to for the past four years. She liked the new feelings between them – it was like nothing she’d experienced with the boyfriends she’d had in the past; they’d never ignited her that way. She’d never liked kissing her other boyfriends. It was just something she did. She’d even made Motoki kiss her once to see if it would be different with someone she really cared for, but it hadn’t been anything like the electricity she felt with Mamoru. But there was still something holding her back.

There had to be more than banter and sexual attraction – what did she really know about Mamoru? Was it enough to risk losing what she had? Was getting to know him and discovering whether she could be emotionally involved with him worth the possibility of losing the old relationship?

You care what he thinks, Usagi-chan.

Great. Now you decide to come back.

If you don’t want to talk about Mamoru-san, perhaps you’d like to talk about that lab report? the voice was mocking and she narrowed her eyes.

Fine, I’ll type up the damn report, she grumbled. “Stupid conscience.”

Usagi stood and crossed the room to her dresser, grabbing a pair of lounging pants before she looked down and realized that she was still wearing Mamoru’s shirt and boxers. She wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so why should she change? She was completely comfortable and she wasn’t going to. She put the pants back and grabbed her laptop and her report.

Usagi walked into the living room and realized the one downside to remaining comfortable: her roommates would stare. Makoto and Motoki didn’t look nearly as surprised as the others. She gave a mental shrug and settled herself on the sofa. Within minutes, she was absorbed in her work and oblivious to her surroundings.

~~~


“I thought we were trying to bring back a memory from before they knew who they were,” Artemis commented, but a single look from Luna silenced him.

“I went too far back,” she admitted. “It was a memory of their time together on the Moon.”

“Our Princess was that bold on the Moon?” Even Artemis was shocked by this news.

“It would appear so,” Luna said quietly. She looked shaken. “However, she’s questioning her relationship with Mamoru-san now. She is unsure if she wants to get involved with him. How do I probe her mind further to unlock her memories without damaging her even more?”

“What do you mean, ‘questioning’?” Artemis demanded.

“She is strongly inclined to pull back completely, losing what little ground they’ve gained in the past few days! While I might not approve of her plan, it seemed that they were close to accepting their destiny – now she wants to give it up because she doesn’t want to be without their bickering.”

“Can’t you convince her that what they’ll have in exchange is better?”

“No, I can’t,” Luna sighed. “What will they have, after all?”

“What are you saying, Luna?” he asked harshly. “That you agree with her? That her childish dreams are more important than the fate of the world? Just where does your loyalty lie?”

“With her,” Luna whispered. “As it has in the past and always will. What do you remember of their love? Do you remember that the Princess was a very young fifteen then? That Endymion was but seventeen? That the thrill of the forbidden was the very reason they snuck off together in the first place? Their love was destined – Queen Serenity knew that even as she forbade it. Selene destroyed her Kingdom for love of Endymion and Endymion wiped out their entire civilization when she was killed. The Princess might have loved him, but it was the love of a teenager overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t understand. By sending her to Earth, the Queen was not just hoping that they would have the freedom to love, she was giving them the opportunity to be free of Selene’s influence as well. As a human, instead of a Lunarian, the Princess would be free of the blood of the goddess.”

“And what of the Dark Queen? Sailor Pluto warned us, remember?” Artemis asked quietly.

“What of the other Senshi? Why do we focus on Usagi-chan?” she asked.

“I will try to awaken Minako, but we have no other links with the others,” he reminded her.

“Fine,” Luna spat bitterly. “You awaken Minako. I will awaken Usagi-chan. And if it breaks her, I hold you responsible, Artemis of Mau.”

~~~


She knew it was a dream, even as it unfolded. She sat in the arcade, surrounded by her friends. Mamoru was sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee. Motoki was standing across from him, his face taut with worry, speaking rapidly. She knew this was another one of those dreams that her conscience would call a memory, and she was determined, now that she was alone in her bed, to get the most of it, to see if there was anything in it that struck a chord with her.

Makoto looked exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes – eyes that were haunted with a strange knowledge. Minako was no where to be found, something Usagi found strange, but Rei was there as well as Ami. Ami had a small blue device in her hand, and Usagi realized suddenly that it was a computer. There was a strange symbol on it, a heart with things coming out of it.

Though she might try to deny that the other dreams were memories, this one was too real for her to dismiss. Rei’s silence, Ami’s intent study of the tiny blue computer and Makoto’s haunted eyes – they told a story. If she were to see her own face, what would it look like, she wondered. For that matter, why wasn’t Mamoru leaning over her, making a sarcastic comment while Motoki made eyes at Makoto and where was Minako? And why were they all so quiet?

“They’re all out there, then?” Makoto broke the silence. “All seven have been found.”

All seven what? Usagi wanted to scream.

“Tuxedo Kamen has two, we have one and Zoisite has four,” Ami confirmed. Usagi rolled the strange names over in her mind, wondering why they felt so familiar and foreign at the same time.

“We can’t do anything about Tuxedo Kamen yet,” Rei offered pragmatically. “But we need to get those four back from Zoisite.” Usagi felt herself nodding in agreement. A scream rent through the air and the others turned to one another in shock and dismay.

“Another one?” Makoto grumbled. “We need to get out of here.” The others nodded and Usagi found herself following them out the door and into a secluded alleyway.

“Moon Prism Power Make-up,” she heard her voice shout. Her vision went pink for a brief minute and when she looked down after it cleared, she was wearing the same outfit from her nightmare of the night before. It was enough to startle her awake.

She sat up in her bed, unable to deny it any longer. The dreams were memories. The voice was right.

And she suddenly wondered why it spoke from the face of a black cat with a crescent moon on its forehead, and what that had to do with the phrase she’d found herself shouting.

She slipped out of her bedroom and out onto the balcony. She pulled the dream from her memory and repeated the phrase.

“Moon Prism Power Make-Up!”

With a flash of pink light and ribbons, she found herself in a form-fitting white bodysuit and a short blue skirt – she had the strangest urge to say ‘fuku’ when describing it.

These were definitely not dreams. Unable to figure out how to revert back to her pajamas, she raced through the apartment and to the stairway.

~~~


“She’s remembered?” Artemis asked as Sailor Moon left the balcony. He and Luna were hiding behind a flowerpot, but they had witnessed Usagi’s transformation in awe.

“No,” Luna denied. “Not enough. She remembered transforming and just did it. She has no idea who she is or what it means. But she knows that they aren’t dreams now.”

“And she’s going to confront Mamoru about them,” Artemis finished, surmising Usagi’s destination.

“Yes,” Luna whispered.

“May Selene have mercy on him if she figures out how to use her powers before she remembers what they are for.”

~~~


“Motoki, I think you should leave,” Mamoru said quietly, staring at the vision in front of him. Usagi’s face was cold, her eyes narrowed in fury – and her clothing and stance gave him the strangest feeling of unease. It was Usagi who stood before him, but it wasn’t. Motoki nodded and sidled past the girl at the foot of Mamoru’s bed.

“They aren’t dreams, Mamoru-san,” she whispered coldly. “I was wearing this outfit when you tried to kill me!”

“What are you saying, Usagi-chan?” he asked very calmly.

“They are memories – memories of those lost three months.” Her voice was trembling, whether with rage or fear, he couldn’t tell. Gone was the beautiful, soft woman he was slowly beginning to realize he cared for and in her place a warrior with icewater in her veins. “Which means that my ‘dream’ of you hurting me – something you swore you wouldn’t do – was not a dream at all, Mamoru-san.”

“Usagi-chan, why would I try to kill you?” he asked slowly.

“I don’t know, Mamoru-san – why don’t you tell me?” she snapped furiously, tears slipping down her face. “Why would you try to kill me, Mamo-chan?” she whispered, the fury drained from her.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t know why I would have done something that I don’t remember ever doing, Usa-ko. But I know that I would never do that now. I couldn’t.” She looked up at him hopefully.

“Promise?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Do you promise that you’ll never hurt me?”

“I promise, Usa-ko,” he vowed pulling her to him, relieved when she collapsed into his chest instead of hitting him. He wrapped her in his arms and rubbed her back soothingly. “I promise.”

“I just said the words from my dream and this outfit appeared,” she mumbled. Mamoru had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but he knew Usagi. It was better to let her ramble for a few minutes and get her to calm down. He kept rubbing her back, trying desperately not to think of how very little she had on, nor how the knee high red boots were suddenly the epitome of sexiness in his mind.

“I don’t even know how to get back into my pajamas,” she sobbed, rubbing her face into his bare chest. In the morning, he would worry about how this bizarre circumstance had come about. He would worry about the memories Usagi was having, particularly those that involved him trying to kill her, and how they related to the fact that she had on this bizarre outfit. For tonight, he just had to worry about getting her calmed down. She was trembling in his arms and he was terrified that she might have broken something key in her mind with these memories.

“We’ll worry about it tomorrow, Usa-ko,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her temple. “I’m going to go tell Motoki to sleep on the sofa – you’re staying here with me tonight, okay?”

She nodded, looking up at him with wide, hysterical eyes. Without a conscious thought, Mamoru bent and swept her knees over his arm and wrapped the other one tightly against her waist and carried her to his bed, where he set her down gently.

“Stay right here, okay?” When she nodded again, he crossed the room and gestured to the waiting Motoki.

“Is everything okay, Mamoru-kun?” he asked in an urgent whisper.

“I don’t think so,” Mamoru answered honestly. “She needs to stay here tonight, Motoki. Could you sleep on the sofa or go crash with Makoto-chan?”

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to be alone with her?” Motoki asked in all seriousness.

“What do you mean?” Mamoru responded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Look – I wanted to tell you guys immediately. I begged Tsukino-san to let me tell you, but he and Aino-san and Hino-san and even Mizuno-san insisted that I keep my mouth shut unless it was a life or death situation. As far as I can tell, it might be if I leave you alone with her.”

“What are you talking about?” Mamoru demanded. He looked impatiently back at the open doorway and shook his head in frustration. “Never mind – you can tell me in the morning. I am quite positive that I’m perfectly safe alone with Usagi-chan.”

“If you’re sure,” Motoki said, walking away. Mamoru groaned internally. His best friend had just given him one more thing to worry about tomorrow. Tonight, his only concern was Usagi. She was close – so close – to her breaking point, and something she claimed he’d done to her while wearing black armor was at least part of it. That he could picture this armor, and himself in it without any trouble at all, worried him. He shrugged it off. It was another thing to think about tomorrow.

He joined Usagi in his bedroom, watching her from the doorway. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her head was buried in them, her arms wrapped around the red boots that were making his mouth go dry. “Let’s get you changed, Usa-ko,” he offered gently, walking slowly towards the bed as her head lifted. Her wide blue eyes watched him warily and he winced internally.

“How?” she whispered.

“I know you probably don’t want to change in front of me right now, but you’ll probably need my help getting out of that white thing,” he reasoned. She nodded slowly and he pulled another t-shirt and a pair of shorts out of his drawer for her to wear. He had a sudden vision of looking in this drawer in a few weeks and being forced to go to her apartment in order to find his clothing. He wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. He finished his slow trek to his bed and gestured that she should stand, looking carefully at the uniform she was wearing to see the best way to remove it. The skirt appeared to be attached to the white bodysuit, and he realized that there were really only two options for removal, and he prayed that option one, removing it from the top down by stretching it over her shoulders and down her torso, was feasible. He reached for her, wincing internally as she flinched back, and grasped the neckline of the bodysuit. It didn’t budge.

Now that he was this close, he could see the details of the uniform, and a sparkle caught his attention. “Usagi, what’s that?” he asked, pointing a heavy-looking pink and gold brooch on her bow. Usagi followed his finger and she gasped.

“My brooch,” she whispered unevenly. “It was in the bag of things from the hospital – when – you know…” He nodded. Motoki’s words came back to him and he wished, suddenly, that he had let the other man talk before he dismissed him. Usagi stared at the brooch in growing horror before a light seemed to dawn on her face. “I know what to do,” she said confidently. He wasn’t at all positive he’d ever heard he speak that way before, though it felt familiar all the same,

She reached for the brooch and tugged softly. Mamoru was blinded by a brilliant flash of pink light. When it cleared, Usagi was sitting on his bed, wearing the same t-shirt and shorts she’d gone home in. The brooch was held loosely in her hands and she was staring at it in revulsion.

“I hate this thing and I don’t even know why,” she muttered darkly.

“We’ll worry about it tomorrow, Usa-ko,” he whispered comfortingly. “May I join you?”

Usagi nodded and moved towards the wall, wriggling to settle herself under the covers. Mamoru climbed in beside her, opening his arms to let her snuggle into them if she wanted to.

She did.

~~~


“That went rather better than I’d expected,” Luna muttered dryly, recounting the incident to Artemis. “Mamoru-san, even without his memories, is quite good at handling Usagi-chan.”

“Perhaps you should leave her alone for the night,” Artemis suggested diplomatically, as though he hadn’t been pressuring her earlier. She looked at him scathingly.

“I’d like to get some sleep, Artemis. Perhaps you should watch over your mistress,” she added darkly before she settled herself into the nook between two flower pots and closed her eyes resolutely in a deliberate attempt to ignore him. Artemis grumbled to himself as he went to find his own sleeping place.

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