Sailor Moon does not belong to me.
I wish it was so but keep on dreaming. Sailor Moon belongs to
Naoki Takeuchi/Kodansha, TOEI Animation. I want to say thank
you to all those people who encourages me to write to continue writing.
Especially to Jade and Fyrechild.
Please visit my page at
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/9613/
I usually add my fanfiction there before I submit it.
I'm looking for some pre-readers. If you are interested in becoming a
pre-reader for me please email me.
This is a spoiler. It takes place after Sailor Stars. It is a romance if
you are looking for action this is not the right place for you. I am using
the NA name because it is an alternate reality.
Wedding Rehearsal is a copyright of Serena Chiba@1998.
Now on with the story.
** means thinking
\\ flashback
Separation
by Serena Chiba
Chapter Five
Darien slammed his telephone receiver into its cradle late Wednesday
afternoon, making the instrument jinglein startled protest. He'd just tried
calling Serena again, and he'd gotten her machine, evern though he knew it was
long past time for her to be home from school for the day. He suspected that
she was there, listening to and ignoring his requests for her to pick up the
phone and talk to him.
The situation betweenthem was beginning to look decidedly grim. And
he hadn't a clue what he was supposed to do to rectify it.
"Whoa. That sounded remarkably like a temper tantrum. Probles, Darien?"
The voice from the doorway made Darien look around with a scowl He
motioned the man into his office. "Come in, Greg. What can I do for you?"
Greg Merc was an assistant administrator of the renowned Tokyo
hospital where Darien worked. A whiz at budgeting and scheduling, Greg was
also able to communicate well with the sometime weary, agitated, and irritated
doctors.
He slid a thin sheaf of papers onto the remarkably cluttered desk in
front of Darien. "You forgot to sign your time sheet again. You know we can't
figure out what time you came on and off without your signature to prove it."
Darien signed impatiently and reached for the pen. "We waste more time
bothering with insignificant details," he muttered, scrawling his illegible
signature across the bottom of one of the triplicate-carbon forms.
"Yeah, well, that's the government for ya. They specialize in
insignificant details. So, how are things, Darien? Everything going smoothly
with your patients?"
"Yes, everything's fine here at work," Darien replied grumly. "No
complaints at the moment."
Greg settled into a chair and studied Darien over steepled fingers.
"Anything else bothering you?" he asked casually.
Darien would normally never have responded to such an overture, but he
was at his wit's end. "I'm-er-having some problems with my fiancee," he admitted.
Greg nodded in sudden comprehension. "I see. Anything I can do to help?
Want to talk about it?"
Darien cleared his throat. "I think she dumped me."
Greg's eyebrows shot up. "Serena dumped you?" he repeated in disbelief.
"You think?"
Darien nodded glumly. "She gave me back my ring."
Greg winced. "That sounds suspiciously like a dump, " he conceded.
"What did you do?"
"What makes you automatically assum it was something I did?"
"Darien, my friend, you should know by now that the man is always the quilty
party-at least in the viewpoint of the woman. So-what did you do?"
"Nothing," Darien insisted, lifting his hands in aggrieved bewilderment.
"It was her birthday. I gave her a very nice gift. I offered to buy her dinner.
And the next thing I knew, she was throwing me out of her apartment. She hasn't
really spoken to me since. It's been four days."
Greg cocked his head with a frown. "There must be more to it than that."
"I swear, that's the whole story."
Leaning forward, Greg looked thoughtful. "Okay, let's take this from the
beginning. I've been married to Amy for five years, you know. Got four kids-all
girls. I've had some experience with the female mind. Maybe I can figure out
what went wrong."
I wish someone could," Darien said, running a hand through his midnight hair.
"You said it was her birthday. Which birthday?"
Darien thought about it for a moment. "Her twenty-fifth."
Greg groaned. "I see. And you had a date to mark the occasion?"
Darien nodded. "I told her I'd meet her at her apartment at seven.
I was exactly on time," he added a bit self-righteously.
"Okay, so yu weren't late. That's good. What was she wearing?"
Blinking, Darien stared at the other man, not quite sure he'd understood
the question. "What was she wearing?"
Greg nodded. "Yeah. Was it something you'd seen before?"
"Uh-" Darien creased his brow, trying to remember. He wasn't one to pay
much attention to clothing. But, come to think of it...
"No, I don't think I'd seen it before. It was a dress. Blue, I think.
I suppose it was new."
"And you didn't mention it?"
Darien shrugged. "Serena knows I don't care much about fashion."
Greg groaned again. "Anything else different about her?"
Picturing Serena in his mind-exactly the way sh'd looked as she'd ordered
him out of her apartment-Darien suddenly nodded. "Her hair was different. Shorter.
How did you know?"
Another groan. "Typical twenty-fifth-birthday behavior. New clothes,
new hairstyle. And you didn't notice."
"No, not really."
Shaking his head, Greg probed more deeply. "Okay, this gift you got her.
What was it?"
"A computer," Darien answered promptly, comfidently. Greg certainly couldn't
criticize that, he thought smugly. "State-of-the-art."
He was startled to hear another deep groan. "A computer," Greg muttered.
"Oh, man, you did screw up, didn't you, buddy?"
"What's wrong with a computer?" The thing cost a blasted fortune. Best on
the market, though God knows it'll be obsolete next week, ifit isn't already, the
way the industry's changing and expanding, all the time. I told Serena it was fully
upgradable, and that I'd be happy to spend the everning demonstrating its function."
Greg's head lifted abruptly. "You said you'd spend that evening showing her
how to work the computer? What about the dinner you said you offered?"
"I suggested we order a pizza."
This time, Greg's groan was even louder.
Finally growing annoyed, Darien snapped, "Would you stop doing that? What did
I do that's so bad?"
"Darien, Darien, Darien,"Greg chanted in what might have been pity. " You don't
have a clue, do you?"
"About what?" Darien asked defensively.
"About romance."
"What does romance have to do with this? It was her birthday. I gave her a
present. Isn't that what I was expected to do?"
It isn't what's expected of you. It's what you give voluntarily," Greg
lectured. "A woman always wants romance, Darien. Especially at a sensitive time
like her birthday."
"You keep repeating her age. What does that have to do with this?"
Greg sighed deeply. "You are really clueless, aren't you?"
Darien growled in frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Taking a deep breath, Greg launched into a careful lecture about women and
what they expect from a man. Flattery, he said. Sweet gestures. Candlelit dinners.
Romance with a capital R.
After several more minutes of advice along those lines, Darien interrupted the
oration. "You don't know Serena very well. She isn't like that. She's much too
practical and levelheaded to expect such nonsense."
"Trust me. She's a woman. She wants it all."
"Surely she knows by now that I'm not comfortable with such folderol. It's
never seemed to bother her before."
"Oh, it's bothered her. She's just never mentioned it before. She was
probably hoping to change you. Women just seem to love trying to change a guy.
It's sort of like the pleasure they take in redecorating. They like to take credit
for the improvements."
Skeptical, Darien shook his head. "That certainly dosn't sound like the
Serena I've known for the two years."
"Five years of marriage, remember? And, as you know, she is also
one of the doctors here. She's no simpering bimbo, but she still expects-no,
she still demands that sort of attention. Especially on her brithday and
anniversaries. And Valentine's Day," he added. "Valentine's Day is a big one."
"Oh, hell," Greg said suddenly, glancing at his calendar watch.
"It's only two days off. I'd better start shopping," he mused.
But Darien quickly put the artificially-sweetened holiday out of
his mind, and asked doubtfully, "You really think that's sort of thing
Serena expected for her birthday? Romance?"
Greg nodded solemnly. "I'd bet on it. You hurt her feelings.
Women have sensitive feelings."
Exhaling, Darien leaned back in his chair. "Romance," he repeated
in a murmur. He vaguely remembered Serena mentioning that there had been
something he hadn't done, rather than the reverse. Maybe this was what she'd meant.
He shrugged. "I can do romance. If it's absolutely necessary."
"I think, in this case, it's absolutely necessary. If you don't
want to lose Serena, of course."
"I have no intention of losing Serena," Darien replied flatly.
"What should I do?"
"Woo her on Valentine's Day with gifts and sweet nothings.
Try chocolate. Those fancy hand-dipped ones, preferably. And roses.
At least a dozen. Red ones. Women simply can's resist chocolates and roses.
Diamonds and perfume are always good, too. I can't tell you how many times
I've gotten out of the doghouse by giving them to Amy."
"It sounds ridiculous, but if flowers and chocolates and diamonds and
perfumes will patch things up with Serena, I'll get them." Darien shook his
head. "Life would be much simpler if women thought more like men."
"Now, don't start playing Henry Higgens on me. I'm telling you, buddy,
women aren't like men. And, on the whole, I thank God for it."
"Henry Higgens?" Darien inquired blankly.
"You know. 'Enry 'Iggins. Rex Harrison. My Fair Lady."
"Oh, yes." A vague memory flitted through Darien's mind. "Theater.
Based on the Pygmalion tale."
"Yeah. You might try scoring theatre tickets some night, too.
Women love to dress up and go to the theater."
"You're being awfully inclusive in your evaluation of women," Darien
complained. "Surely they aren't all alike."
Greg pushed himself out of his chair. "Try reading pop-psychology
books sometime. According to them, women are from Venus and mean are
from Mars. There are whole sections in the bookstores devoted to the
defining the differences."
Thoroughly perplexed, Darien rubbed his chin and decided to stop at
a bookstore on his way to the jeweler and the chocolate shop. *I go to the
florist tomorrow. There would be more flowers to chose from considering that
they would have sold most of their flowers now due to the time it was right now.*
Maybe he should spend a bit more time researching this relationship so that he
and Serena could avoid problems like this in the future, he mused. He might
not be an expert when it came to women, but if there was one thing he
was good at, it was research.
Author's Note
So how do you like this?? Is it good, bad, or I could have done better??
Please send your comments, flames, and critisism to me at
serena_chiba@hotmail.com
Ja ne.
Character List
Tsukino Usagi Serena Moon
Chiba Mamoru Darien Shields
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