Story: What Worth a Leaf in a Storm? (chapter 11)

Authors: Love-is-god

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Chapter 11

Don't let go... don't let go... don't let go...

"Mako-chan, you need to let go."

Don't let go... Makoto's arm tightened. No, she wouldn't let go. They were comfortable and safe. Keep her safe. Keep Ami safe. Here was safe, with her was safe. They were floating on a cloud, now; high above the world and everything bad in it. A rolling, gray cloudscape where they could be together, in the protection of Jupiter. Rumbles of thunder and forks of lightning kept the evils of below at bay, so nothing could harm them. If she let go, Ami would fall. She had to keep holding on. She felt somebody trying to loosen her fingers, but it was all in vain for them, she determined angrily.

"Jeez, it's like she's got some kind of death grip. Care to give it a shot, your Highness?"

"Try to overpower Mako-chan? I believe I shall pass, Minako-chan--and don't you even try to question my masculinity on this one; I know my limits."

"Shall I try to wake her again?"

"Might as well."

A warm, gentle breath of wind flowed across her ear, making her flinch away. What was a little warm wind doing atop a storm cloud, she wondered, perplexed?

"MA-KO-CHAN!"

And she was falling, a shrill knife cutting through her sanctuary. Emerald eyes fluttered open as she rolled away from Minako's piercing voice, and then a red burst of agony shot through her chest. Unexpected and unbidden, a cry tore through her dry throat. Even in her pain, though, she looked down instinctively and was relieved to see Ami still there, held against her with one strong arm. Roused by the sound and motion, and brought to full alertness by her friend's cry, Ami blinked up at her.

"Mako-chan!" A deeper voice, together with a strong hand laid upon her shoulder. Makoto glanced up to see Mamoru's concerned countenance. She took a few shallow breathes and waited for the pain in her side to subside, and Mamoru breathed easier as well when he saw her calm.;

"Mako-chan," Minako said again, her voice oozing mellow sweetness now that her goal had been realized. "This is cute and all, but we're home. You need to let Ami go so she can get to the hospital, and so you can too."

"Huh?" Makoto replied, though awake, her mind still felt fuzzy and thick, barely parsing the words coming to her ears. "But, she can stay with me, it's fine."

"No, she needs to get into an ambulance and go see a doctor."

"It's okay, Mako-chan," a slight vibration on her torso brought Makoto's eyes down again. Ami was awake now, and a little more alert than her companion. She gently shrugged her way out of Makoto's embrace, blushing slightly at Minako and Mamoru watching the both of them. With her newly freed arm, Makoto rubbed at her eyes a bit, fighting off her confusion. Plane, forest, injuries, bad things; that all happened, now they were home. Makoto had to kick start her brain a few times, she felt as though she'd left it behind when they'd left.

Ami gingerly sat up and, with Minako's assistance, stood. Makoto tried to rise under her own power, but stiffened muscles combined with injuries made that impossible, and painful besides. Mamoru thoughtfully eased an arm around her shoulders to help her sit up, and then stand.

"Easy, Mako-chan. Let's get you to headed towards help. I won't bug you for details right now." Makoto grunted something that might have been an affirmative, and started walking down the jet towards the exit. The group went from the small, comfortable interior of Usagi's personal transport, down a connective hallway, and then to a bright, sterile-feeling room where they found two kind older men with kind eyes awaiting them. They were clad in equally bright, sterile white garments, and were armed with a pair of padded wheelchairs.

"Prince Endymion,"one of them spoke formally, both bowing deeply. They rose, and then the other acknowledged the senshi as well. "Sailors Jupiter, Mercury, Venus." They were recognized with a slightly less deep, but still very respectful, bow.

"The doctors should be ready," Mamoru said in his most regal manner. It was the sort of thing that would ordinarily have had all the senshi struggling not to roll their eyes, much the same as when Usagi did so, had they not had more important things on their mind. "These two soldiers of our Queen are in your care."

"Yes, your majesty." Another bow, while Makoto found herself struggling not to roll her eyes at the tedium of it all. Mamoru helped her into the chair while Minako helped Ami.

"Usak... Queen Serenity will be wanting to hear from us now. Expect a big visitation after you get settled in." Mamoru told them. He smiled, and it seemed to be the same kind, warm smile that the Prince usually had for them, but--though it could have been her imagination, lingering effects from fatigue or a plain trick of the eyes--she thought she detected a strain behind his words. She wondered if there had been some other disturbance or attack while they were away, or if something else might have happened. Before she could decide whether to ask, however, he and Minako were waving and walking away, and she and Ami were being firmly turned away and wheeled down the hall. Though she should have expected it, it still came as a shock when hers and Ami's paths diverged in the medical facility. Something in her face or the twitch of her hand in Ami's direction must have shown through, though, and the assistant pushing her spoke with more understanding than she might have expected.

"Don't worry about her, or yourself even. Let us take care of our returning heroes, you just relax."

Heroes. Makoto raised an eyebrow at him and cracked a smile. "Thanks." They were as sad a lot of returning "heroes" as she thought anybody would ever see. They'd been ambushed three times, nearly got themselves killed any number of times in the midst of it, and finished up by running away as fast as their battered bodies could take them. But of course, this fellow didn't know that, he just knew that he was taking care of one of the famous senshi who'd been hurt in the line of duty, protecting the Silver Millennium from its foes.

"Heroes," was stretching the case, and her brow furrowed in worry as she thought about it. That's right, it had been an absolute debacle. They'd failed. Though it must have looked like simple fatigue, she sighed and lowered her head. She had failed. Hip-hip, hooray, she'd bloodied up a few of those fearsome terrorists, but they had both--even intelligent, resourceful Ami--been outsmarted and predicted in the worst possible way; and what had they had to show for it? A nontrivial medical bill and an enemy that would be even harder to find. How on Earth was she going to explain this to Usagi, or Rei, or Mamoru?

"Good afternoon. Or at least, it's an afternoon. What have you gotten yourself into, my girl?" A tall, thin, angular woman who seemed to have popped up from nowhere peered at her through a small pair of spectacles and made a disapproving clucking noise, "Dear, that's no way to take care of your skin, and it'll be a miracle if you can ever drag a brush through that hair again." The sheer absurdity of the woman's comments, and the absence of the usual reverence that citizens tended to show towards the senshi, roused Makoto's curiosity, banishing her gloomy thoughts for a breath. Before the obvious answer dawned on her, she couldn't help but blurt out,

"Who are you?"

"I'm Doctor Fleischer, and I've been given the delightful task of putting you back together. First, however, you're getting cleaned up; even if it wasn't a sanitation issue, the odor you're giving off might make me faint in the middle of a procedure." Fleischer waved her and the assistant in, and she was helped onto a small bed, after which the friendly gentleman left, leaving her alone with the doctor. She walked over to a nearby console and pressed a few buttons. "I have a couple of nurses on the way to prep you. You're not all that attached to your hair, now, are you? It would probably take longer to clean that up than it would to do the surgery."

"And it would take even longer to grow it back," Makoto pointed out. "I'll keep it, thanks."

"True, true," the doctor said flippantly. "I suppose our nation's soldiers must look good while tossing zappies and boom-twigs about, although those tan lines are simply hideous. What were you thinking?" The doctor ran a hand over her own short, boyish cut of dark, bluish black hair, eying her indolently. Despite her words, Makoto didn't really sense too much disparagement in Fleischer's words, and even smiled slightly at her droll speech.

"Ah, just testing some new tanning product for a company. I suppose you doctors can can look like nineties punk rejects while tossing scalpels and sutures about, but senshi have it tougher; always have to be following the latest trends, we do." Makoto did her best to imitate her doctor's manner, and it earned her a wry grin and a roll of the eyes. At that, Makoto laughed aloud. She couldn't remember the last time that somebody aware of her identity had rolled their eyes at her, and found herself taking an immediate liking to this woman. Discouraging further banter, the two nurses came in.

"All right then, time for a sponge bath."

Makoto allowed them to unclothe--or unbandage her, rather--and do the best job of cleaning that they could. For a while she was amazed at the amount of dirt they seemed to be getting off of her, but after a while she began to see a splotchiness to the dyed areas on her skin; the color must have be coming off. There was still an impressive amount of dirt and grime, but she was glad to know that it wasn't that much. The doctor came over curiously and ran a finger over her soapy forearm. "Trying to set a new trend? Try again. I think you're better off trying a more natural tan next time."

"I was thinking the same thing, you know. I guess I've always been a sucker for doing things the easy way; tanning is such a pain." The women finished cleaning her and gently dried her with a soft towel before excusing themselves.

"Now then, without all of that filth and bandages in the way, let's have a look at you." For the first time since Makoto had known her, which was admittedly a fairly short time, an expression of other than bored amusement surfaced on her features. A sickly expression accompanied her actions as, disbelievingly, she probed with light, practiced fingers at the stitched wounds stretching over her chest, and winced. Makoto was really surprised when she looked down at the cuts; they were barely recognizable as the gaping wounds they had been, at least to her eyes. The skin was discolored in unpleasant shades of red and brown in wide swaths over her chest, fading to a stark paleness around the edges. She knew personally how dreadfully tender and raw that the insides remained, but she was still surprised how quickly they had scarred over. Fleischer stood up straight then, her eyes flinty.

"Two questions, O Courageous One. Firstly, how did this happen?"

"Ah, that's one of those classified things, doctor."

"Fine, but you make sure something rather unpleasant happens to them."

Makoto remembered vividly enough the smell of burned ozone and flesh, and the last pitiful whimper and scrabbling claw of the guilty party. "No worries on that subject."

Fleischer managed a thin-lipped smile. "I might have known."

"What's the second question?" Makoto prodded curiously.

"Who dressed this? It's a remarkable job. It doesn't look like you pulled a single stitch while you were healing for all these months."

"Months?" Makoto asked blankly. "Oh! No, doc. We heal rather quickly, it's only been about a month." She thought about it for a few moments, then. "I did spend most of that time hiking through a forest, though. Is it really that unusual that I wouldn't pull a stitch?"

"For all you've done since receiving the injury? Yes." The doctor looked at her incredulously. "And did you say a month?"

"Give or take, I lost track of time. Other things on my mind, you know."

"Quite. In any case, you owe whichever doctor patched you up a sound kissing." She grinned again, and winked. "I hope he was handsome."

Makoto blushed and coughed embarrassedly, but tried to shrug it off. "Pretty easy on my eyes."

Fleischer laughed: a pleasant, melodic sound that seemed out of place with her manner. "This will be one to tell my grandkids someday. 'Do you know, when you're grandma was young and beautiful she used to tease the senshi something terrible? You should have seen how I made Sailor Jupiter blush.'"

"Always happy to help out a friendly Grandma," Makoto shot back quickly. "Do you have any pictures of these lovely grandchildren?" She grinned innocently at the doctor, who still looked to be in her thirties.

Fleischer arched an eyebrow high. "Very funny, dear. Be careful, if you smile so wide I might just... slip, and cut a tendon or two to keep you face like that."

"That seems somehow unethical."

"What an astute observation, girl. Speaking of ethics, however, there's probably something against bickering with a patient while they're in need of attention. How much pain would you say you're in from these gashes?"

"A little bit," Makoto nodded.

"Aren't you a tough one?" Fleischer rolled her eyes again. "Be honest with me for a moment, it's kind of important."

"It hurts like hell whenever I accidentally use one of the wrong muscles in there, and it turns out that a lot of things accidentally use those muscles."

"Of course. Those are pretty deep, then? How deep would you say?"

Makoto tried to remember. "Umm, three inches at deepest? Maybe a little more, I didn't stop to measure."

"I can't blame you. Nonetheless, it looks like we'll have to break out the big guns if we want to keep our lovely lightning lady living lasciviously. The human body is reasonable at what it does, but scar tissue, as you well know, isn't generally constructed as well as the original. Would you have any problems to a bit of surgery to stitch you up on the inside? We can do it so well you'll never even know you were hurt. Besides, we can't have that nice big, pretty chest marred like it is." The doctor managed to evince yet another flush from her patient, who resisted the urge to cover herself and instead grumbled back,

"Of course I don't have any problems with that. You have to ask?"

"A formality. Can't operate without consent, and such. I'm glad you aren't being difficult about this."

"Only one thing," Makoto asked suddenly, a note of concern edging into her voice.

"What's that?"

"This means I can't eat yet, doesn't it? No food before surgery?"

Fleischer laughed again, "Good news for you, that won't apply to the procedure I have in mind. I'll call up some food for you."

Makoto's eyes brightened immediately. "Will you be my doctor forever?" She said with a mocking smile of adoration.

Fleischer didn't laugh, though, and instead looked at her as though sizing her up. "As long as you'll have me, Senshi of Decorative Lighting."

"Makoto," she said after a brief "Kino Makoto."

"My name is Terri, but 'Doc' is fine, Makoto-chan." Makoto's newfound friend smiled, "You know, I think being friends with a senshi might be an even better story to tell my grandkids."


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This was odd; she couldn't remember having agreed to an operation to replace her blood with lead, but that was the only explanation she could come up with for how she felt. She was oddly cognizant of the fact that she was in the hospital, and she had just had surgery, but did she ever feel heavy. Makoto focused all her willpower on one hand and just barely managed to raise one finger, but then her willpower floated away along with the rest of her mind and she drifted off again. Her head didn't feel so heavy; perhaps they made her body this way so her head wouldn't float away. Her eyes felt puffy and her skull listless, as though inflated with helium, and she bobbed in and out of consciousness like a balloon on a string yanked by a child. There wasn't anything around to rouse her. A steady ticking wiled away in her ears and the mildly unpleasant odor of sterile, unscented laundry detergent reached her nose. On her skin was a papery texture , but for her feet and arms, which touched a warm, just slightly rough blanket. Her eyes saw only a dull gray ceiling in a dark room. If that was all that awaited her, she saw no reason to hurry up and become conscious, so it took a while for her to shake off the effects of the anesthetics.

Even after she did, she didn't move. They had her set up pretty comfortably, after all, with a warm, heavy hospital blanket and a soft pillow. She felt fresh and clean and she was comfortable, and that had all been so rare recently that it was as lovely a sensation as soaking in a hot spring or getting worked over by an experienced masseuse. Makoto felt her restless personality assert itself some time later. She had been expecting it from experience, however, so it wasn't too irritating for her. She tried moving around carefully. Her whole body felt fatigued, though her mind was alert. Then again, she reminded herself, that might not be the fault of drugs alone, she had every reason to be tired and sore. The muscles on the right side of her chest felt great now, compared to how they had been before. They still ached, but it was something more along the level of a sprain or cramp instead of being run through the chest with a fire poker. She sat up. The pains from before were hard to forget, but she grimly forced herself into twisting her torso and shoulders every which way, soon relieved and marveling in her freedom of movement. Fleischer hadn't been kidding, she felt good as new. At that thought, she carefully slipped off the papery hospital gown she'd been clad in. Squinting in the dark, she brushed her fingers over her chest and shoulder, feeling nothing. She couldn't see, though.

Makoto looked around the room, wondering where she might be able to find a light. A small, dim rectangle with a recognizable light bulb insignia was on the wall close to her bed on the wall, and she pressed it. Fluorescent bulbs slowly started to grow in brightness on the ceiling, gently, so as to not hurt the eyes of a patient. Makoto thought that was awfully nice of them. She looked back down at her chest, and verified that there wasn't a mark to be seen. Woefully out of touch with regard to medical advancement, this was nothing short of amazing to Makoto. She thought of Ami, and wondered if this were the sort of thing she was having to learn to do now.

"Mako-chan?"

In the middle of still poking at her breast and shoulder, the voice, barely more than a whisper, startled her silly. She grabbed for the blankets and held them bunched in front of her. Turning to the side, she saw another bed in the room, which she'd missed in her hurry to have a look at her surgery results. Staring back at her, poking out from underneath a stark white blanket, was a soft pair of slightly confused, unfocused eyes, with a few locks of tousled, bed-head blue hair hanging in front of them.

'Ami-chan!"

Her friend cracked a smile, and blinked heavily a few times. Makoto figured she must have just been sleeping and not still drugged, as her sleepiness cleared up quite quickly. Ami sat up in her bed, propped up on one arm, and rubbed her eyes. For a few seconds Makoto thought something was wrong with what she was seeing, and tried to figure it out. It came to her as her gaze traveled up Ami's arm and to her neck: there was no skin coloration to be seen. Makoto looked down at herself, and saw that there were still very obvious lines on her own skin, though it was more like a little tanning than the deep, brazen color she'd had before. That was less than important at the moment, though.

"Did they fix you up, Mako-chan?"

Makoto flexed her right arm up and down for emphasis. "Sure did." She threw Ami a sidelong glance, "Although, my doctor told me that the person who patched me up the first time did such a good job that I owe her a good kissing."

"Owe? I seem to recall your having done that already," Ami pointed out.

"Oh!" Makoto remembered that now. "Er, haha. I suppose, although I hope that, ah, you know, that you..." Makoto wasn't sure exactly what was best to say here, "I was, um, tired, and..."

"You weren't quite yourself?" Ami supplied.

"Something like that," she replied quietly,

"I guess that wasn't quite how I wanted my first kiss to go, then." Ami stated matter-of-factly. Makoto blanch. She coughed quickly and tried to force color back into her face.

"F-first?"

"Unless I've forgotten something important, yes," Ami said neutrally, but then she turned her head to the far wall and Makoto heard, in almost a whisper, "I suppose I could have done worse."

Makoto opened her mouth to respond, but her mind was having too difficult a time trying to process the meaning of Ami's conflicting messages to form words of its own, so she didn't answer. As often happened, the more time that stretched between the words and response, the harder it was to express that response, so Makoto soon abandoned thought of even trying. Instead, she spent a few productive minutes mentally slapping herself a good one, Ami wordless in the other bed. The stillness in the room began to eat at Makoto.

"So... how did the doctors do with you?" She ventured a new subject.

Ami turned back. Makoto was relieved to see happiness in her friend's features, and hoped that everything was okay between them. The blankets over Ami's legs bumped upwards as she flexed both knees several times.

"Just fine. Looks like Michiru still has competition from my quarter. There were a few bruised ribs too, as it turns out, but those weren't any problem."

"Not a single honourable war wound to brag about later?"

"We'll survive somehow, Mako-chan," Ami said dryly.

"Ami-chan?'

"Yes?"

"It's good to be home."

"It is."

"Do you have any idea when we'll be able to leave the hospital?"

"Right now, if we wanted to, although they would probably prefer we stay until morning to get the sedatives all out of our system. At the very least, we'd need to have an escort back."

Makoto looked around, "I don't think I would mind that too much. There's something about hospital rooms that make me fidgety. Although, I'm probably just being stubborn." Makoto grinned. "I can't stand the thought that somebody doesn't believe I can be up and about--even if they're right--and hospitals are full of those people."

"I'll get the nurse, then."

The nurse on duty clearly had reservations about their request, but this was one of those nice times when their status helped clear the way for them, down to the slightly above-and-beyond request that they get some new clothes. Makoto was unwilling to disclose the location of her apartment to the hospital, as it was a sensitive part of her private, non-senshi life, and it was easier just to get a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from a nearby store than get somebody into the Crystal Palace for Ami's belongings. It might have been easier had they just gotten one of the other senshi to help them, but neither of them really wanted to reunite just yet, because that was going to mean a lot of difficult questions and long stories. Instead, Makoto had a little fit of intuition and suggested that they call Mamoru to be their required escort: one part the hospital wouldn't budge on.

They felt they might be able to count on Mamoru picking up on, and honoring, their wish to not talk about anything yet, while they're Queen wasn't usually the most patient of women. Well, that and he still had his own car, something the other senshi had never gotten around to. When she called, she thought it was a little odd that she found him awake and alert at three o'clock in the morning. But then, so were they, so who was she to ask questions? They stood in the front lobby of the hospital while the nurse traded off between shooting them dirty looks and fretting worrisomely, but aside from a few powerful yawns Makoto felt fine, at least physically.

Mamoru showed up soon thereafter, and surprised Makoto and Ami both for the strangest of reasons: he actually looked as though he were a young man who had no business being up this late, and being up anyway. His hair lay disheveled across his brow and his jacket looked rumpled, as though is had been carelessly thrown to the side before necessity dictate he put it back on tonight. One side of his collar was flipped up, he apparently unaware of it until Ami walked up to him and wordlessly fixed it. A haze cleared from behind his eyes at the action, and he was suddenly more conscious of his surroundings. He arranged his face into a more competent countenance, and smiled with practiced confidence at the attendant nurse who now looked at him with concern, rather than her patients.

"My sincerest thanks for aiding my sisters, ma'am, I do hope you were not terribly inconvenienced tonight."

"Not at all, Highness, but you make sure they get rest, and you too." She looked stern for all of half an eye blink, before she remembered who she was addressing. "Begging your pardon, but that is the only thing needed still."

"Your concern becomes your station, I'll be certain to follow your advice." Mamoru smiled warmly and turned, walking out with the two girls at his heel. Once outside, he turned to face them. Makoto saw that he still smiled with some kindness, and the air of control and authority that he'd exuded before he had now let go. The result was just what they had seen walking in.

"Thanks for the ride, Mamoru-san," Ami said politely.

"No problem, Ami-chan."

"I thought I was lucky to catch you awake," Makoto related to him, "But maybe your just good at putting yourself together when you're waking. Sorry to disturb you."

"No worries, Mako-chan. I'd only barely begun to doze off, and then only by accident. It probably was--is, time to get some sleep, though, so why don't you tell me where you two need to go?"

"Ah..." Makoto looked to Ami, "I guess you need to get to the Palace--

"About that," Mamoru interjected, and she turned to him. "While you've been away, Rei-chan has made a few changes. Understandably concerned about the possibility of more enemy agents on the way, or already in the city, she's tightened up security severely around the palace, to the point that even our rank isn't enough to bull through, and my rank carries a lot of bull." He winked, and they both cracked grins, but Ami's fell as she processed this news more.

"So, what kind of procedures are we talking about?"

"Identification, a few scans, and a personal search." He said the last with well-defined displeasure. "Your talking about another hour or so before you get anywhere near your wing."

Ami groaned. "Maybe I'll stay in a hotel or something tonight."

"You can stay with me," Makoto offered instantly. "I have a spare futon in the closet, and you won't even have to deal with a concierge."

Ami weighed her options. "You sure you wouldn't mind? I don't want to impose."

"Ami-chan, if I can share the underside of a fern for a night with you, I can certainly manage to find enough room in my apartment."

Mamoru began chuckling in the driver's seat.

"Mamoru-san?" Ami wondered.

"Minako-chan was telling me that your relationship was... strained, prior to your departure. I'm glad to see that, whatever else happened out there--and it must have been something, telling from the state of you when we picked you up--you're getting along well again."

Makoto didn't know what to say to that; what was there to say? "You're welcome to stay too, Mamoru," Makoto started. "You don't look like you'd be thrilled with an hour wait and another search, either. All I have to offer is a couch, though--"

"Thank you for that kindness, but I already have a place to stay outside of the Palace tonight." He rather pointedly paid his full attention to the road at this juncture, and Makoto realized that no more explanation was forthcoming, nor did he really want anybody prying, so she left it alone. He was doing them a courtesy at the moment in chauffeuring them around and not asking them about their travails, so she could repay him in kind. She gave him instructions to her place, which was conveniently close to the Palace but just far enough to be away from the worst of the hustle and bustle of the capitol, and he dropped them off. He waved farewell in the warm golden-orange hues of the city's phosphorescent crystal deposits and drove away, leaving the pair of them to sneak in and to the elevator. Makoto did prefer to keep a low profile as a civilian, and coming back to her apartment in the dead of night after months away with nothing but a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and a companion identically garbed, would probably spark the curiosity of those who knew her even just in passing.

Once inside she breathed a sigh of relief, and shut off her thoughts of the outside world along with the door to it. They stepped hushed to the bedroom, feeling the reluctance to create noise that came with the early hour. Building materials in this era, in this city, were such that it was nigh-impossible for sound to carry through rooms, but they still padded around the apartment as though Makoto were afraid to wake the neighbors. Entering her bedroom and flipping the light switch, she unbuttoned her new jeans and fell face-first on her bed.

"Kindly feel free to join me, Ami-chan," she spoke from around a fold of blanket. An answering bounce in the bed to the side of her signaled that Ami was not feeling up to argument. "I'll just take a rest and then go get that futon and lay it out. It's been a while since I slept on that thing, but I do remember it being comfortable enough. I also think that laying across steel bars would be rather comfortable right now, too, so perhaps it doesn't matter."

"What? No, Mako-chan, please. I'll get up and get the futon, this is your bed."

"I'm not arguing with you."

"Alrigh--"

"No." Makoto flopped an arm over Ami, who was raising herself up and now lay flat again. "I'm not arguing because you're my guest and you'll abide by my house rules. Guest takes the bed."

"Mako-chan, I'm too tired to argue, just take the bed."

"That's not fair, why can't I say the same thing?"

"Because," Ami said flatly.

A few seconds passed, and Makoto yawned, her jaw creaking as it opened wide. "Why am I so tired, anyway? Didn't I just wake up?"

"Physical need for increased sleep to aid in the recovery process, stress-induced lethargy, sedative aftereffect still in the system..." Ami listed out what she could think of off the top of her head.

"Oh, right. Well, if I've got all that, I probably shouldn't get up."

"Is that you agreeing with me, Mako-chan?"

"No, it also means you probably shouldn't get up."

"Mm," was all Ami could work up.

"I will make myself comfortable, though." Makoto hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and wiggled loose from them, pulling first one then another leg out and throwing them blindly across the room. She reached under her shirt and removed her provided bra as well, and tossed that away just as negligently. She was facing away from Ami, but judging from the sudden activity she felt on the bed, she thought her friend might be following her example.

"Your legs look silly, Mako-chan," Ami said afterwards. "Looks like your skin takes better to that dye than mine. No doubt the military would like to know why."

"No doubt the military can ask me themselves, if they would care so much," Makoto replied, trying not to think of Ami looking at her exposed legs--and perhaps more, judging from the cool air she could feel on the small of her back. She turned her head, only to meet Ami's eyes looking straight into hers. "I'm more worried about other things they'd like to know."

Ami smiled reassuringly, though Makoto could see her concerns reflected back at her from Ami's face. "That's nothing to worry about right now, Mako-chan. Let's think happy thoughts and have sweet dreams, let the rest come when it may." Ami reached over to her corner of the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket back and wriggling beneath them. Makoto did so, too, and rolled onto her side away from Ami, self-consciously trying to give them both room to spread out. She only just arranged herself comfortably, though, when she felt a light warmth on her back, and smooth skin grazing her calves.

"Sweet dreams," Ami echoed herself, the voice so close that Makoto felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Sweet dreams," Makoto agreed a handful of heartbeats later, while her heart and brain both parlayed for attention, yearning and disbelieving respectively. Firmly, she listened to the latter and refused point-blank to believe any readings into Ami's actions, favoring that disbelief; Makoto had long since learned the folly in trusting that unfaithful organ to seek true, and she gagged its clamor. Trying to ignore the muffled cries, Makoto allowed her tiredness to take her away from the world, and she slipped beneath a sleep blessedly devoid of dreaming

When she awoke she was alone, and that itself was so unusual that it jarred her to full wakefulness. Makoto raised herself on two arms and the sheets slid from her shoulders and down her back. The light in the room was still on, neither of them caring enough to rise and turn it off when they'd fallen asleep, and the room was empty. The window was still dark, so she knew she hadn't been asleep for long. Or had been asleep for twenty-four hours straight, she conceded, though it didn't feel like that were the case. The light tinkle of glasses in the kitchen told Makoto where Ami had gone to. She stretched, and noticed the smooth, warm scent of tea in the air. Smiling, she stood and readied herself to go into the other room. Her apron was still hanging on the inside of the door, where she had left it, and a flutter of odd humour had her chuckling. Reasoning that she had, in fact, already spent a night in the same bed clad in little more, and working up a bit of nerve, she took it off the hook.

"G'morning, Ami-chan. Tea sounds lovely, thanks. I'll make breakfast, too, if you're feeling as hungry as I am." Ami wasn't in the kitchen, Makoto was disappointed to find, but she walked towards the entryway to the sitting room determinedly. "By the way, what do you think of my new look? I've heard it's quite popular in some circles." Makoto twirled into the room, so to better display the advantages of her attire, and ended facing Ami sitting on the couch, clad demurely in Makoto's bathrobe, looking surprised with a red flush to her cheeks. Makoto might have laughed aloud at that point, had it not been for the burst of raucous laughter and the amusement in the other face looking to her.

"Mi-Minako-chan!" Makoto stammered, face turning several shades darker than the cheery pink of her apron, and after a shocked second she ducked back into the kitchen.

"Hey hey, where you going, Mako-chan? I can enjoy the view just as much as Ami-chan can. Well, maybe not quite as much as Am--"

"Mi-Minako!" Makoto heard Ami interrupt her.

"Yes? My my, but aren't you red. Mako-chan, get back in here! I'm curious to know which of you is blushing harder."

Makoto fled back into her room and opened her drawers more roughly than she really needed to, Minako's laughter still pealing through the rooms. She pulled on a pair of normal, entirely plain, and quite boring, pajamas, then walked back into the sitting room.

"Good morning, Minako-chan," she tried to say casually, but the words came out stiff enough to break her teeth on.

"Good morning to you, too, Mako-chan. I think Ami-chan's having a good morning as well, even if you did mess up the naked apron look--come now, you must know better than that, why didn't you lose the panti--" Ami coughed loudly, but rather than taking the hint, the irascible girl merely continued running her mouth. "Oh, have you caught a cold, Ami-chan? Don't worry, I know this great cold remedy that I'm sure Mako-chan could help you with. Mako-chan, do you happen to have any leeks in your ki--"

"Ami-chan," Makoto said loudly now, talking over the other girl, "We did say we missed our friends, didn't we?"

"I think I remember that, yes."

"Why?" Makoto shrugged, and shook her head sadly. Minako looked between her and Ami's scandalized embarrassment, and she sighed exaggeratedly.

"You two are no fun," she pouted. She brightened immediately after, though, as was her wont. "So, what's for breakfast?"

Makoto didn't even bother to answer, she just breathed in and out at a measured pace and walked back into the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't so far that she couldn't hear the conversation in the other room, however.

"You know, a girl could get suspicious. You two were blushing just like a couple getting caught doing something naughty. I was prepared to overlook the fact that you were at Mako-chan's house, and that you were in her bedroom, and even that you were wearing her bathrobe, but a girl can only take so much before she gets suspicious."

"Minako-chan," Makoto had to strain her ear more to hear Ami's soft reply, the strain in her patience audible. "Perhaps we could go back to talking about why you're here at all, to have seen these things in the first place?"

"Oh, that sounds like an intentional evasion of the subject if I've ever heard one, tee-hee."

"Minako-chan," Makoto called from the kitchen then, determined to put an end to their harassment. "You did like cottage cheese and cumin spread over your muffins, right? Or was that somebody else, I could swear it was you."

"Ah, that must have been somebody else, Mako-chan." Minako answered after a few heartbeats, in a queasy-sounding voice.

"Hmm, but I know it was somebody incredibly annoying, who couldn't close their mouth when they should. Are you sure it wasn't you?"

"Erm, yes, quite sure."

"Oh... well, the thing is that I already made yours like that. Perhaps you can try them, you never know what you might end up liking."

There was a telling silence in the living room, in which Ami jumped at the chance to speak.

"So what on Earth are you doing here so early in the morning, Minako-chan?"

"I can't come see how you're doing? The last I'd seen you looked half-dead and were being wheeled off into the hospital. The rest of the girls and I were planning to come visit you at the hospital tomorrow, but when I told Mamoru about that he said you had already left! It would have been a nasty surprise for us tomorrow, you know. So inconsiderate."

Makoto rolled her eyes at Minako's injured tone.

"I suppose you're right, Minako-chan, I'm sorry." Makoto was surprised to hear Ami apologize so readily, but the purpose behind her amenable tone was soon evidenced. "It was very lucky for you that Mamoru-san was able to let you know; good thing that you had some other matter to discuss with him this morning. In fact... now that Mako-chan and I are back home, could you fill us in as well? It must be very important news if you had to tell the King about it at such an early hour.

"Ah, no, it wasn't all that important. Just, erm... asking if he wanted to come visit you tomorrow with the rest of us!"

"You couldn't talk to him about that tomorrow, Minako-chan, you had to wake him in the middle of the night?" Ami said with just the right amount of surprise to let Makoto know that she was not surprised at all, and quite unready to believe Minako's hesitant, nervous explanation.

"Ah, ha ha. Just overeager, I suppose." Minako said nervously, and covered herself by taking the offensive. "We haven't seen either of you in months, you know, or heard anything. We were all worried, and things have been kind of tense around here in the meantime. Crystal Tokyo was attacked for the first time in its history, and the whole world watched while we didn't do anything at all about it. It's been kind of embarrassing... but you can give us something to work with! We're all tired of just sitting around and waiting."

"Ah, maybe so. I don't really want to talk about it right now, though."

"Oh, of course! From the looks of things, something bad happened. I'm glad to see you're okay now." Minako sort of trailed off after that, as though ashamed of her own fervor.

"Yes, we're fine, but a little time to acclimate back to Tokyo would be nice, and to just relax."

"And we don't want to have to go through the story more than once, it's kind of long," Makoto chipped in from the kitchen. "By the way, breakfast is ready. I can't wait to see what you think of this, Minako-chan."

"Oh, actually, I forgot about another, um, thing that I had to do this morning. There's a... sale going on at a store nearby, and I need... breasts. Chicken. Chicken breasts. I'll have to enjoy your cooking another time, Mako-chan, see you both later." Just as Makoto walked into the room carrying a small platter, Minako waved cheerfully to her from the doorway and slipped out.

"Oh, my. Mako-chan, did you really make her something so awful-sounding?"

"Hmm, awful? Whatever could you mean? You don't like cream cheese and salmon on your bagels?" Makoto said innocently, setting down the platter and showing the contents. "Perhaps I was misheard?"

Ami laughed softly, and sipped at her tea with eyes closed. Makoto was about to take a bite of her breakfast, when one of those eyes opened mischievously and glanced to her. "Incidentally, I should probably let you know that you do the naked apron justice. Minako-chan might have had a point, though--"

"Pardon? When does Minako-chan ever have a point." Makoto interrupted, more to stop the conversation going in that direction than to joke about their friend. Ami just smiled and bit into a bagel, but she wasn't done yet.

"Maybe we can try it out when you make lunch? It's been a while since I played dress-up." Ami suggested nonchalantly.

Makoto averted her eyes and began eating breakfast quickly and quietly, though the heat from her skin could have kept it plenty warm no matter how long she waited. It was times like these that convinced her that there was an intelligent higher power at work in the universe; mere chance and chaos could never have let this happen in her life, something out there just had to be having a good laugh right now.


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"Separate?" Jupiter echoed the guard with a frown on her face.

"Yes ma'am. New regulations, you understand. Visitors must go through screening separately. Procedure is calling for you to be debriefed separately, regardless, so if it please you, we could get through this more quickly with your cooperation." The Palace guard, a man with streaks of salt-and-pepper color in his temples that nonetheless carried himself easily in his powerfully built frame, was taking an absolutely unbudging stance on his new orders, which Sailor Jupiter could hardly fault him for. She didn't have to like the rules, however.

"I couldn't just fry something utterly inoffensive and probably expensive to prove my identity?" The man looked somewhat taken aback by the offer, but recovered.

"I would likely believe you if you did so, Senshi, but that would have no bearing on my orders."

"I am so going to get Mars for this," Jupiter grumbled. Mercury stood more patiently beside her, and they turned to face one another.

"See you on the other side," Sailor Jupiter shrugged.

"See you there," Mercury agreed, and they clasped hands before being led off to separate entrances by a couple of younger guards.

Jupiter's first hindrance came when she couldn't provide picture identification for her name and occupation, but a few incredulous looks and a little angry talking actually proved enough to get this attendant to call his supervisor and get her to another room, where they did a retinal scan and mouth swab. This seemed enough to satisfy them at this stage, and she was subsequently sent through a decontamination chamber on the off-chance she were carrying some terrible disease for the government, and through an X-Ray looking for contraband. Lastly she was treated to a search by a no-nonsense female Palace guard that gave her insight into Mamoru's displeasure with the act--and he probably didn't have the difficulty of a buttonless, claspless, zipperless, and otherwise difficult to access one-piece bodysuit to contend with. Feeling as though everything were rubbing in all the wrong places when that was over with, Sailor Jupiter was a grumpy soul when she stepped out into the Palace proper. A guard followed her out.

"What, do I have to have some young boot-shiner with me as insurance, too?" She snapped angrily. The nameless youth colored, but she was well-disciplined.

"I'm to show you where to debrief, after which you are free to go about as you please, Senshi of Thunder," she answered diffidently.

"Ah... well, carry on," Sailor Jupiter said lamely. She was taken to a small but comfortable room where sat a young bespectacled lady with a laptop and a hair pulled into a bun that threatened to rip off her scalp, and an older man in decorated uniform that was only just gone to seed. She didn't even have to ask for the procedure, Jupiter stated her name and the subject of their meeting today, and began relating everything she thought was tactically important from hers and Ami's mission, leaving out, of course, what she thought nobody needed to know. The officer only stopped to question her on a few occasions for clarification, or to dig for details he wished to know, but otherwise it was a quick and painless time spent. Afterwards she headed as fast as her long legs would carry her to the throne room, glad to escape the carefully neutral face of the officer, whom she couldn't help but imagine was thinking poorly of her, indeed, for her performance during the mission.

She entered the throne room to find another guard, who advised her that the Queen and her personal guard were further into the Palace, in the Queen's private quarters. So Sailor Jupiter continued on, into Usagi's personal area made up more homey than the rest of the palace, where she could--and often did--throw off the trappings of royalty for the comforts of childhood. In a brief moment of insight, Jupiter thought about how that old dream of living the life of a normal girl felt ever more ethereal with every passing year. It was an uncomfortable feeling, realizing how accepting she was becoming of her tumultuous life, and realizing how necessary it really was. Thinking then about the students she needed to get back to, and wondering if she should make something for them all by way of apology for being gone so long, she also decided that, acceptance and necessity aside, there was no reason not to try and maintain some semblance of normality where she could.

Usagi and Rei were to be found sitting silently and fidgeting on the couch in Usagi's retreat, and at her entrance they both jumped up with twin squeals and hugged her tightly. After a surprised gasp, Jupiter smiled warmly, thinking again about being a normal girl with normal friends, and made herself comfortable in the room.

"Mako-chan!" Usagi sobbed, while Rei pulled back and arranged herself with more dignity.

"It's good to see you, Mako-chan. We'd become worried, and no less with Minako in hysterics about your state after she and Mamoru had turned you over to the hospital."

Makoto yet out a short yelp as Usagi began groping her chest. "Where is it? Minako said you were really hurt here, I want to see!" Makoto's queen demanded.

"Nothing to see, Usagi-chan. The doctor fixed me all up, good as new. If it please you, I'd rather not expose myself again today."

"Again?" Rei asked.

"I take it you haven't talked to Minako today, yet?" Makoto grumbled.

"No, I haven't."

"Well, she can tell you if she like. I won't."

Rei and Usagi exchanged glances, but Mercury's entrance interrupted their thoughts and led to another round of squeals and hugs, and for Usagi dropping to her knees and grasping at Mercury's knee, which brought her an accidental kick on the chin from a surprised Mercury--it turned out that Ami's knees were very ticklish, she explained apologetically after she had sat down. Makoto filed that away for future reference, along with a not not to be standing in front of her whenever she decided to try it. With the more exciting bits of the reunion out of the way, it wasn't long before Mamoru showed up to the room as well, Minako with him. Taking it in turns, Makoto and Ami related the details of their adventures once more to a captive audience. Each of them reacted much the same as Makoto might have expected. Usagi looked downright traumatized and liable to burst into tears, while Rei and Mamoru wore mirroring troubled, darkly thoughtful expressions. Minako fell somewhere in between, sharing Usagi's horror, but keeping her wits about her slightly better than the guilt-ridden Queen.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go!" She wailed, and Ami sat beside her to comfort and reassure her, leaving Makoto to discuss the matter with the Queen's guard and co-ruler.

Makoto bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Usagi-chan. I don't know what I was thinking, we should have retreated. Too much went wrong, and I tried to bull ahead anyway."

"No, Mako-chan, I'm just glad that you came ba--"

"Damn right, Mako-chan," Rei interrupted.

"No, she's not right, Rei-chan," Ami jumped in. "I took the lead more often than not, so whatever happened can be laid squarely at my feet. Wasn't my purpose there to be the voice of reason?"

"I never said it was all her fault either, Ami-chan." Rei turned to her. "You both screwed up, badly."

"Rei!" Usagi exclaimed, looking injured. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Were you listening, Usagi? They were mysteriously attacked by two men in the middle of the night and, with absolutely no inkling of what had given them away in the first place, continued on their mission. Already the element of surprise was gone. But I suppose it was Mako-chan that tried to force you ahead so recklessly?"

"Yes, Ami suggested retreating at this point--'

"I did no such thing!" Ami protested. "I just panicked and started babbling about getting killed."

"And who was it that encouraged you to try and continue anyway?"

"No, you encouraged me to calm down and think about it."

"To think about a way to keep going. I should have told you to find us a safe way out of there."

"I should have realized that was the best option!"

"Hold on, you two," Minako jumped in between their conversation, and in between them physically as well. "Seems to me like you just tried your best to finish a mission successfully, and encouraged one another like good friends should."

"That doesn't make it right!"

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