Best Friends (part 7 of 16)

a Sailor Moon fanfiction by Desslok

Back to Part 6
"Hello, may I speak to Aino Minako please?" Kenjo asked, though 
he was relatively certain it was her on the line.

"Speaking," Minako replied, "Is that you, Kenjo-kun?"  Her breath 
and heart quickened, but Minako would never let such things show 
in her voice.

"Hai.  Am I disturbing you, Minako-san?"  Kenjo considered that 
it was a good thing they weren't using some sort of video phone, 
because he'd hate for her to see the stupid grin he had on his 
face at the sound of her voice.

"No, I just finished dinner.  Our meeting over at the temple went 
a little long."

"How did it go," Kenjo asked anxiously. "Did your friends think 
we were nuts?"

Minako shifted to the front edge of her chair.  "You won't 
believe what Rei-chan told us!" she reported enthusiastically. 
"It seems that she and Ami had a long chat the other day, right 
around the same time you were talking to Makoto at the sports 
center.  She had already become all but convinced that _Ami_ has 
a crush on _Makoto_!"

"You're kidding!  That's great!"  Kenjo chalked off one obstacle 
with delight.  "What did Usagi-san have to say?"

'He really does love Mako-chan,' Minako realized. She could hear 
it in his voice, full of pure joy at her news.  Rather than 
something that made her jealous, she found it to be a very 
endearing trait. 

"Well, Usagi claimed that she'd had her own suspicions all along.  
We talked it about it for quite awhile, when we weren't 
sidetracked, and now we're all convinced."  Minako sighed.  At 
the same time it was both hard to believe and the most natural 
thing in the world that her dear friends Ami and Makoto should be 
in love. 

"You guys got sidetracked?" Kenjo couldn't resist asking.  Of 
course, he knew, or suspected (or was that hoped?) that his date 
with Minako might have been on their discussion agenda, but he 
couldn't come right out and ask.  

He might as well have been translucent, given how easily Minako 
saw through him.  "Oh, we didn't just discuss Ami and Makoto, 
Kenjo-kun," she said smugly. 

Kenjo really wished that Makoto could have been there, since he 
knew without a doubt that she'd have given him a full report.  He 
reminded himself sharply that her not being there was sort of the 
entire point.  "Anything you'd care to share?" he asked, not 
really expecting to get anything out her.

"Well, I had to tell my friends how our date went, didn't I?" 
Minako continued.  "Of course, Usagi had her own opinions, since 
she'd been spying on us!"

Kenjo laughed warmly. "I think it's nice that you guys care about 
each other so much.  Anyway, I hope the reviews were positive."

"Maybe, but I would never tell," Minako teased.

"So, did they have any ideas on what we might do to help the two 
of them?" Kenjo asked eagerly, getting back to the topic at hand.

"Well, Usagi is going to talk to Haruka-san and Michiru-san.  We 
figured they might have some insight," Minako reported. "Rei 
seemed to think that we might have some trouble from Ami's old 
'boyfriend' Urawa Ryu.  She was going to check up on him."

"Urawa? Mako-chan mentioned him at one point.  She seemed a 
little jealous of him," Kenjo recalled.

"He wishes!" Minako snorted. "He keeps bugging the poor thing, no 
matter how many times she tries to tell him she only wants to be 
friends.  Rei can be pretty determined, so she'll get to the 
bottom of things with him."

Kenjo frowned.  He knew guys that didn't like to take "No" for an 
answer and had little use for any of them.  Some were just 
deluded or stupid, others were actually dangerous.  He had little 
doubt that Sailor Mercury could take care of herself, but he 
worried nonetheless.  With a smile, he realized that now that he 
suspected Mizuno Ami returned his Mako-chan's love, he felt 
almost as protective and worried about her as he did about Makoto 
herself.  "And what was your assignment, Minako-san?" he 
inquired. 

"I was supposed to call you and fill you in. We figured you'd be 
dying of curiosity.  You beat me to it, it seems," she added, 
very content with the fact that he'd called her first.

"Not dying," Kenjo chuckled, "but close."

"So, is that the only reason you called me, to find out what 
happened?" Minako asked in a flirty tone, fairly confident in the 
answer.

"No, not really," Kenjo started, gathering himself together, "I 
was wondering, well, if you don't have any plans, maybe you'd 
like to get together Friday night?"

Minako smiled, feeling the same rush of victory she normally got 
only after defeating a tough enemy.  "Sure, I think my schedule 
is clear.  What did you have in mind?"  She felt a little 
embarrassed when she considered what _she_ had in mind, the 
fulfillment of a promise she'd made to herself after their date.  

"Mako-chan tells me that you enjoy karaoke, so I thought maybe 
dinner, then we could hit a club I know," he suggested.

"Ooooo, I love karaoke," she squealed.  "Sounds perfect.  What 
time?"

"I think I can find my way back to your place," Kenjo answered. 
"How about I pick you up at six?"

"That works for me, Kenjo-kun," Minako agreed. "Well, I'd better 
get going. I need to get some school work done." 

"Ok, I guess I should do some readings, too," Kenjo sighed. "See 
you on Friday, Minako-san!"

"Good night," she said, hanging up the phone.  Just then, Artemis 
wandered into the room with her. 

"Mina-chan, why are you hugging your pillow like that, and why 
are you so happy?" her cat asked.

Minako scooped the white ball of fur up in her arms and swung him 
happily through the air.  "I've got a date for Friday night!"

"Whoa! Put me down!  You always have a date on Friday night!" 
Artemis exclaimed.

"Not second dates!" Minako pointed out, setting Artemis down at 
the foot of her bed.  Still beaming, she headed out to the other 
room to try to get some work done.   

'Second date?!" Artemis thought, trying and failing to recall the 
last time Minako had gone on more than one date with the same 
boy.  'Sounds serious.  Well, good for her,' he decided before 
drifting off to sleep.  

------------------

Urawa Ryu found a niche between two streetlights, about a block 
and a half from his quarry.  It is possible that, if he could 
have seen himself, he might have paused, reconsidered, realized 
that he wasn't acting rationally any more, but he avoided such 
introspection.  Over the years, normal admiration and interest 
had grown into friendship, but then slowly mutated into intense 
desire, a yearning forged in the fires of frustration only to 
emerge as obsession.  He knew as surely as he knew his own name 
that Mizuno Ami was his, by right.  He knew that he could make 
her understand this.  So far, he'd tried to reason with her, to 
convince her, to make her see.  As he watched her enter Kino 
Makoto's apartment building, a bouquet of pink roses in her arms, 
he realized that he needed to take more drastic measures.

With a determined scowl, Ryu turned and headed back the way he 
came.  So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, that he didn't even 
notice the beautiful, raven-haired young woman sitting alone at 
the bus stop as he walked past.  

--------------------

Rei sat in the cafe, sipping a cup of cocoa, waiting.  It had 
been almost an hour since her quarry had entered Tokyo General.  
'Maybe he's committing himself to the Psych Ward,' she hoped 
against hope.  'What is he doing in a hospital at this time of 
night?'

---------------------

Ami rang the doorbell, nervously shifting the bundle from one 
hand to the other.  Normally, she would have rung once and then 
let herself in with the spare key, but for some reason, that 
didn't seem appropriate tonight.  

When she'd left her last class, she hadn't planned on bringing 
flowers, but when she saw the pink roses at that little stand, 
she couldn't resist.  Ami yawned, still tired from her lack of 
sleep.  After last night's dinner, and the realizations that had 
accompanied it, she had had a hard time getting to sleep.  In her 
classes, she'd found herself dozing off more than once.  Worse 
still, when she wasn't fading into sleep, she found herself 
doodling little hearts in the margins of her notebooks.  

For her part, Makoto had found herself planning tonight's dinner 
throughout her entire day.  Normally, she'd whip something up 
from whatever was lying around when it was just she and Ami.  
After all, she generally thought, that's just...normal.  Sometime 
between that farewell kiss on the cheek and her return from 
classes, however, Makoto had come to realize that dinners with 
Ami were anything other than routine.  Indeed, they were some of 
the most special occasions of her life.  Tonight, she planned to 
let Ami know just how special she was to her.   She had just lit 
the last candle when the doorbell had rung the first time.  The 
second ring had been spent checking her hair in the mirror that 
hung in her foyer. Makoto was somehow not surprised that Ami 
hadn't let herself in.  It was such a common thing for the two of 
them to be on the same wavelength, that it hadn't even occurred 
to Makoto that Ami might not realize how special tonight was 
going to be. 

On the third ring, the door opened.  "Oh, they're beautiful!  Let 
me get a vase," Makoto delightedly exclaimed, taking the bouquet 
that Ami had proffered to her upon entering.   She blushed, and 
smiled deeply, as she fussed in a cabinet near the kitchen for a 
suitable container.  While she'd never doubted that Ami would be 
thinking along the same lines she was, it was still nice to get 
confirmation of the fact.  Makoto's heart raced as she pulled 
down a crystal vase that had been her parents' and arranged the 
roses therein.  

Ami gazed around the apartment.  Makoto had dimmed the lights and 
lit what seemed like a hundred candles.  As usual, the smell of 
food wafted from the kitchen and Ami was overcome with a strong 
sense of "home."   Taking it all in, Ami's gaze finally came to 
rest on Makoto herself.  No sweats or t-shirt tonight.  Instead, 
Makoto wore a soft, green sweater with a matching long skirt.  
Her hair was done up in her typical ponytail, but was held in 
place with a delicate gold hair clip.  As she watched her friend 
delicately position the roses, Ami felt a rush of warmth, and not 
to her face as usual.  She allowed herself to do something 
consciously that usually she did without even knowing it; she 
examined this beautiful young woman before her carefully, 
thoroughly.  Makoto's eyes, focused so intently on her task, 
shone with an inner light, crackling with energy.  Ami noted the 
slightly paler tone to her skin along the nape of her neck, where 
her hair was pulled back.  Letting her gaze trail down the line 
of Makoto's neck and past her broad shoulders, she remembered 
something said in jest long ago.  'You indeed should have been 
Snow White in that play, Mako-chan,' she admitted, noting the way 
Mako's sweater clung to her.  Her eyes lingered in that area for 
some time, and that comfortable warmth inside her flared up 
considerably.  Almost with regret, her eyes dropped down, over 
the full curves of her friend's hips and to her legs.  'They just 
go on forever,' Ami realized with a sigh.  She had just 
suppressed a brief, irrational wish that her friend might drop 
something on the floor behind her when Makoto finished with the 
flowers and met her gaze.  Immediately, Ami dropped her eyes to 
the floor and cursed her complexion, feeling the heat on her 
cheeks now, not just in those other areas.

'She's blushing,' Makoto thought as she looked up.  'She is so 
adorable when she does that.'  "You ok, Ami-chan?" she asked with 
a smile, "you look a bit flushed.  Is it too cold in here?"

Ami's eyes widened in horror as she swiftly checked her blouse.  
Realizing what she was doing, and why, she blushed even more, 
finding it hard to catch her breath.  She was a trained warrior, 
however, and recovered quickly.  "No, everything is fine, Mako-
chan.  Everything is perfect.  Is anyone else coming tonight?  
You've gone to so much trouble."

Makoto could feel sweat forming on her brow.  Had Ami just done 
what it looked like she'd done, when Makoto had asked if she was 
cold?  Mako swallowed quickly, trying, without much success, not 
to stare at those soft, gentle curves in her friend's white 
blouse.  "No, it's just you and I tonight," she replied to Ami's 
question, regaining her focus.  She stepped closer and added, "I 
hope that's Ok. I just thought that, well..."

Ami's smile made Mako's heart leap in her chest. "I think it's a 
wonderful idea, Mako-chan. Is there anything I can do to help?"  
She also moved forward, stopping only a foot or so away from her 
closest friend.  For a moment, they paused there in the living 
room, well within arm's reach of each other.  Ami sighed as she 
gazed deeply into Makoto's eyes, feeling as if she was surrounded 
in a warm blanket.  Makoto held her breath, her fingers 
trembling, aching to be lost in soft, blue hair.  Each of them 
slowly leaned forward...

"BUZZZZZZZZZZZ"  

The sound of the oven timer going off startled both them out of 
their reverie.  Makoto gulped in air and dropped her hands to her 
sides.  Ami shivered and took a deep breath, a wry smile on her 
face. "I'd better get that, or else we'll be having blackened 
tuna, and I didn't plan on cajun tonight," Makoto joked.  

Ami giggled and nodded, "Go ahead, Mako-chan, I'll put on some 
music, if that's all right."  Makoto assured her that that would 
be fine and headed off the kitchen.  Ami smiled wistfully.  There 
was no doubt in her mind at all now and the thought of what the 
rest of this evening was sure to bring made her as happy as 
anything she could remember.  The accursed oven timer could steal 
one moment from them, but nothing could stop fate.  Ami was 
certain of that. 

Moving over to Makoto's stereo, she glanced through her CD 
collection, looking for something that would set the right mood, 
something romantic, but not too distracting.   She was amused to 
find a Bonnie Raitt CD currently in the disc player.  She thought 
she could guess which song Makoto might have been listening to 
earlier.  'Oh, we'll give them something to talk about, all 
right,' Ami thought wickedly.  She carefully replaced that disc 
in its case and pulled out a different one, something Minako had 
introduced them all to, an English band called Dire Straits.  
Placing the disc of the same name in the player, she started it, 
adjusting the volume so that it would not override conversation, 
but would linger at an almost subconscious level.

Before she turned back to the table, Ami caught a flash of green 
reflected in the glass door to the cabinet.  Shifting a little 
bit, to get a better reflection, Ami soon could make out Makoto, 
holding a dish, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.  The tall 
young woman had stopped and was apparently staring at her.  With 
a very pleased smile, Ami realized that the tables had turned so 
to speak, but, unlike Makoto earlier, she knew she was being 
watched.  Very deliberately, Ami reached up to a disc on a high 
shelf, stretching onto her toes.  She could feel the muscles in 
her calves and thighs go taut as she held that pose for just a 
second or two longer than necessary.   While she might not be as 
qualified to play Snow White as Makoto, Ami knew that her legs 
were one of her best features.  'This is just too much fun,' she 
realized.  She'd never known how enjoyable being a tease could 
be.  Suddenly, Minako made a lot more sense to Ami.  

Makoto's legs were trembling.  'Oh my,' she thought as she 
watched Ami reach up to grab a disc.  All she could see was white 
hose stretching up and disappearing under a short blue skirt.  
She could imagine all too vividly how it would feel to lay her 
hand on one of Ami's delicate ankles and run it all the way up 
to... 'I'd better put this down,' she decided, remembering the 
plate in her hands, 'because if she drops that disc, it's all 
over.'  At that exact moment, as if her thought had molded 
reality to its liking, Ami's hand slipped and the disc she had 
been reaching for fell to the ground.  Makoto could have sworn 
that Ami darted a flirty glance her way as she bent over at the 
waist to retrieve it, her skirt riding higher up the back of her 
thighs.  'No way,' Makoto thought, 'not my Ami-chan!'  Proud of 
the fact that dinner had survived this crisis, Makoto gulped and 
quickly set the plate down on the table.  

Ami suppressed a laugh as she watched Makoto rush over to drop 
the plate on the table.  Somehow, she felt just as she had when 
she'd learned her Shine Aqua Illusion attack.  With this weapon 
in her arsenal, there was no way this particular target could 
ever resist her.  Feeling as happy and content with herself as 
she ever had, Ami moved over to the table and sat down. "It looks 
lovely, Mako-chan."

"Thanks," Makoto mumbled. "Just a couple more things and we'll be 
ready to go."  As she moved back into the kitchen, she began to 
reconsider things.  Maybe Ami wasn't so innocent and pure after 
all.  Makoto did know her friend very well, very well indeed, and 
that expression on her face had _not_ been one of innocence and 
purity.  'Well, two can play at this game.'  Before grabbing the 
last dish, she reached up and unbuttoned two buttons on her 
sweater. 

"Here, let me put this on your plate," Makoto said, returning 
from the kitchen with a bowl of rice.  Ami thanked her and leaned 
back in her seat to allow Makoto access to her plate.  Her self-
satisfied serenity took quite a shock, however, when Makoto 
leaned forward to ladle out the rice.  The way she was bent over 
the table, Ami could see right down her sweater!  'I shouldn't be 
surprised that that's green, too,' Ami considered, though the 
majority of her attention was certainly not focused on Makoto's 
undergarments.  After an eternity, Makoto straightened up and 
moved to her own place.  'Did she just wink at me?' Ami tried to 
determine where her imagination ended and reality began.  'Hmmm, 
it would seem that being teased is almost as much fun as doing 
the teasing!'

For the next thirty minutes or so, the two young women ate their 
meal, talking mostly about the same kinds of things they usually 
did:  daily events, things learned in classes, speculation about 
their friends (mostly Minako), etc.  Throughout the meal, 
however, a subtle tension began to grow.  Each ate slowly at 
times, savoring the growing anticipation, then quickly at other 
times, impatient to get through it and onto other things.  At no 
other meal had so many dishes been passed back and forth, fingers 
lingering longer and longer during the transfer of plates and 
such.  The comfortable silences that characterized their time 
together remained, but contained many more contented sighs and 
intense gazes.  Finally, it was time.  Makoto rose to clear the 
table.  Once again, normally, Ami would have helped her, but 
today they both knew that that wasn't necessary.  Instead, Ami 
went to the stereo once again, changing discs to something a 
little more modern and upbeat.  

Makoto dropped off the dishes in the sink, not even bothering to 
soak them, and returned to the living room to find Ami waiting 
for her.  She'd moved the coffee table to one side, clearing a 
space in the center of her floor.  Makoto paused, fairly certain 
what was coming.  As Ami moved slowly across the floor to her, 
she knew she was right.  Deja vu struck briefly, reminding her of 
that night in the school gym, long ago.  

"Would you care to dance?" Ami asked with an encouraging smile.  

"I would love to," Makoto answered, shyly bowing her head.  So 
often, because of her height or her mode of dress, people assumed 
she was some sort of tomboy.  Inside herself, though, Makoto 
rarely if ever felt that way.  Now, just as she had long ago, Ami 
made Makoto feel just like she always wanted to feel, like a 
princess in a fairy tale, about to be swept off her feet by her 
prince.  As Ami's hands took her and led her into the dance, 
Makoto sighed contentedly and placed herself literally and 
figuratively into Ami's care.  

The song she had chosen started out with a brisk tempo, so Ami 
led Makoto through an upbeat dance that soon had them both 
laughing and swooning through spins and dips.  As she'd planned, 
though, the song soon slowed down and Ami drew Makoto in close.  
As Mako laid her head down on top of Ami's, resting on her 
shoulder, Ami knew that this was exactly where she wanted to be, 
always.  Makoto gently shifted her head back and forth, rubbing 
her cheek against Ami's skin.  Ami responded in kind and soon 
they both lifted their heads back to look into each other's eyes.  
Makoto closed hers and shifted her cheek to Ami's other shoulder.  
Soon, though, they went through the same dance, cheeks caressing 
each other and then, heads drawn back, eyes meeting.  Just as 
Makoto's eyes closed and Ami was leaning forward...

"BUZZZZZZZZZZZZ"

Ami jumped, dropping her hands from a very confused Makoto.  
Grabbing at her side, she pulled her beeper out of a pocket 
hidden in her skirt.  Makoto looked at her, disoriented and 
disappointed, as Ami stared at the number on the beeper.  "What 
is it, Ami-chan?  Is everything all right?" Makoto whispered 
hoarsely.

"No, I mean yes, I mean...I have to go, Mako-chan," Ami 
exclaimed, almost in tears.  So close... but there was no way she 
could ignore this particular message.

"Don't!" Makoto pleaded, before remembering herself. "I mean, do 
you have to? What is it?"

"It's my mom," Ami replied in a disconsolate tone, even as she 
hurried over to the foyer to put on her shoes. "She had me 
memorize a series of codes, so she can use the beeper for a 
variety of messages.  This one means I have to go home 
immediately."  

Makoto began to ask if she couldn't wait just a little bit, but 
realized that that would be unfair.  Whatever had been about to 
happen, that moment was now lost and if she asked Ami to stay, it 
would only make her more unhappy.  Given her state of agitation, 
ignoring Mom was clearly not an option for Ami.  

"I'll call you!  I promise!" Ami shouted as she headed out the 
door. "I'm sorry, Mako-chan, more than I can say!"

'Me too,' Makoto thought.  'Me too.'   As Ami vanished down the 
hallway, she leaned over and blew out the nearest candle.


Onwards to Part 8


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