Title: The BIG Wish -- Chapter 3
By: Lilac Summers
Rating: I insist it's PG 13 for mild language and, er, sexual
reference
salaices@leland.stanford.edu
For all you Mamo-chan/Usagi-chan lovers, this is the chapter you want to
read. 100% pure Usagi mischief. I hope you enjoy it. And I will keep
this story PG13 if it kills me!
Thanks go out to all of you who continue to support me. I forgot Jade,
Gerardo Rodriguez, XOXO546, Callista, and Sonia last time around . . . So
THANKS, guys! SPECIAL thanks goes out to Lady Mirage, who has given me
TONS of ideas which I am so grateful for. And Sidnei is a fellow
Mamo-chan devotee who is writing this great story called "Kissing a
Dream." READ it when it comes out, okay?
Disclaimer: {Insert uproariously funny disclaimer right here. Lilac
Summers is too tired to think one up.} Sailor Moon not mine. Naoko
Takeuchi's. Don't sue. Me Tarzan. You Jane.
** ** ** ** ** ** *** @>--;--'--- ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
The BIG Wish
by
Lilac Summers
Chapter 3
I suppose you could say it was all my fault. I suppose you could even
go so far as to say that I deserved it. And I suppose you could say that
Mamo-chan was an innocent victim. I suppose. That's all I'm willing to
admit.
If you want MY opinion, however, I'll tell you that what occurred was
not solely my fault. It takes two to tango and all that. That's my
story, and I'm sticking to it.
Have I lost you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm just trying to
establish my innocence from the very beginning, however. So let me fill
you in on what happened. But remember, it takes two . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mamo-chan was at a loss as to what to do with me. *I* had a few
suggestions as to what he could do with me, but I don't think he would
have appreciated them. That's why, an hour after my pals had scurried out
the door, he sat at the farthest end of the couch, miles away from me. We
just stared at each other. Well, he stared at me and I contrived to look
like the victim in all this.
Yeah, the facts had been established. He now knew the finer details of
my predicament, about the Eve of Selene, about my reasons (edited
carefully to seem very benign, of course) for wishing to be big, and about
my age. Ah, my age. That little tidbit had brought horror into his eyes.
I watched him kiss his gentlemanly barriers good-bye. The reasons that
were holding him back from doing what we both wanted him to do had been
greatly reduced. I could see him thinking, too, that maybe getting killed
by my father wouldn't be so bad . . . Oh, but my Mamo-chan is a stubborn
one, and I could sense him clinging to the last dregs of his gentlemanly
ethics with all of his determination. He was out to do the honorable
thing. Obviously, treating me as if I had the plague was the only way of
succeeding in this. Little did he know, of course, that I was already
scheming on how to get rid of those cumbersome honorable intentions.
Or maybe he did know that I was out to get him. I can't be sure. He
watched me with a piercing wariness, I thought perhaps he was getting the
drift of what my intentions would be. Of course, he would never ask me
outright, and if he ever did I was ready to be righteous and indignant.
The only thing I am sure about, though, is that the staring contest on the
couch was a test. Who would be master of the household? Who would back
out first? I knew this, he knew this. This is yet another reason that I
think he suspected I was after his body from the minute I set foot in his
apartment. Mamo-chan is, by nature, a hunter. But turnabout is fair play
and so I could see that he sensed that he had suddenly become the hunted.
You got it, baby. I had him right where I wanted him. All I had to do
was pull the trigger, so to speak. Easy, huh?
No, dammit, it wasn't. Mamo-chan's control is formidable. I was going to
have to work for every point.
Anyway, the battle of will was on. Ladies and gentlemen, on the left
end of the couch in the blue shirt, undisputed champion of control,
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiba Mamoru! And on the other end, newly enforced with
legality, in the short white skirt, the challenger of control out to do
her mother proud, Tsukinoooooooooooooooooo Usagi!
DING!
And I was off, throwing the first punch! "Mamo-chan, I'm scared. I
don't like this at all," actually, I was having the time of my life. "What
if something goes wrong and I never get back to normal? I-I would never
be ale to go back home . . . Oh, Mamo-chan, HOLD me!"
And I literally THREW myself onto his lap. All right, Chiba Mamoru,
deal with *this*.
He froze. A poor deer caught in the headlights, or the sights of a
hunter. A blonde-haired hunter. A blonde-haired hunter wearing a REALLY
short skirt. A blonde-haired hunter wearing a really short skirt that had
ridden up with the force of said hunter's attack . . .
I could understand his problem. Now, he couldn't NOT hold me, because
he loved me, after all, and would never deny me comfort if I needed him.
Lucky for me, he is a sucker for a damsel in distress, especially me as a
damsel in distress. However, if he was going to follow through with his
proclamations of chastity till the wedding, he had to get rid of me...
*fast*!
Well, the damsel in distress routine won out, as I knew it would. His
arms came around me and held me gently, smoothing my hair in an attempt to
comfort but doing something altogether different.
Okay, Usagi my girl, step two. You are where you want to
be . . . now what are you going to do about it? Snuggle. Next most
logical step, of course. So I snuggled. Wriggled *just so* to give the
impression of settling in for a nice little crying jag. I was really good
at those. I snuggled, however, with a few alterations. It involved
wiggling a few strategic parts of the anatomy more than others. I assume
you get the point. If you don't . . . er, well, use your imagination.
I assure you, imagination works because I knew that Mamo-chan instantly
began to use his. . . imagination. (What did you think I was going to
say?!) I don't want to brag, but let's say Mamo-chan was instantly
uncomfortable. Breathing had sped up, hands were clenched . . . the whole
bit.
Now I, as a perceptive girlfriend, could not act as if I couldn't sense
what was going on. Step 3: acknowledging the situation but making it
seem as if it was all his idea from the beginning. Guys are big on the
"me first" concept, ladies. If you don't know that yet you should get
out more. Guys like to take responsibility for all and any ideas that
they will be directly involved in. If they didn't think of it first, then
by darn it, it wasn't worth thinking of to begin with. I love my
Mamo-chan but I know he has his macho moments just like any other guy. He
would NOT take kindly to the idea that *I* was having my way with *him*,
and *screw* his misguided ideas of chivalry.
To achieve this, the tried and true "What is going on here? I have been
busy thinking of bunnies, candy, and other innocent pastimes that have
nothing to do with sex" look was my most reliable option. It involves an
enlargement of the optical area of the face that, in regular mortals, is
simply physically impossible. I, however, am Sailor Moon, and I can damn
well do anything I please. You've seen Chibi-Usa's sickeningly sweet
look, right? Who do you think taught it to her?
So, applying this technique with a vengeance, I raised my head from
where it rested on the crook of his neck and gazed at him wonderingly,
effectively bringing my face nose-to-nose with his. "Mamo-chan?" I
breathed.
He looked at me, his gaze traveling my entire face before settling on my
amazingly-innocent eyes. He loves my eyes, claims they are as fathomless
as the ocean, as clear as the sky. Yes, my Mamo-chan is at times a poet.
So I used my fathomless, clear-as-sky eyes for all they were worth and
caught him completely, so I was in a prime spot to view all the thoughts
running through his head and reflecting in *his* gorgeous eyes. He was no
doubt rationalizing that a chaste kiss would hurt no one. Surely you can
control a little peck . . . Never mind the fact that she's on your lap, a
kiss is quite acceptable. Just. One. Tiny. Kiss.
Rationalizations are wonderful things. Convinced of his powers of
control, Mamo-chan gave in to the inevitable and kissed me. . .
Now, I won't bore you with all the details of that earth-shattering
kiss. In truth, all our kisses are earth-shattering. Luna once asked me
what he tasted like, and I told her he was sweet, like something was
melting on my tongue. His kisses are chocolate, warm and rich and
addicting. At least, they always begin that way. Then they slowly morph
into wildness. Mousse Flambe, if you will. He slowly began to . . . Oh,
but what am I saying? I promised I wouldn't bore you with the details, so
I won't.
And I won't bore you with what happened after all his rationalizations
flew like so much dirty water out the window and all I got was not "Just.
One. Tiny. Kiss." Goodness, no! Did you actually put money on Mamo-chan
on this one? You haven't been listening, have you? He had dearly
underestimated me, and he was paying for it, although I don't think he was
minding one bit . . .
Curious, you say? Are you? Well, using my father's reaction as a
scale, with one being a baseball bat and ten being a bazooka, I would say
Mamo-chan and I were treading around the shotgun stage. In other words,
for those of you not familiar with the "Daddy on a Rampage" scale, we were
fully clothed still, okay? Yet slowly moving to the Magnum with a full
clip stage . . .
DING DONG!
The doorbell was loud and no doubt working for the Negaverse. A careful
ring would have been easily ignored, or not heard. However, that bullhorn
of a doorbell that he has brought my attention right up in a snap, and
wrenched Mamo-chan's attention onto what we were doing, and shouldn't be
doing . . .
Where once I was on his lap, I was now dumped unceremoniously onto the
floor as he zoomed by, mumbling something about taking a cold shower and
successfully barricading himself in the bathroom, leaving me to deal with
whoever was on the other side of the door. But oh, I would deal! I
would deal in spades . . .
Stomping over to the door, I took a second to rearrange my clothing, and
upon finding that, dammit, my clothes were in perfect order, I got even
madder.
"WHAT?!"
The pizza boy who stood there cowered before me, holding up the pizza
like a shield. "C-Chiba residence?" he croaked. At my furious nod he
held up the pizza like a peace offering and shook with trepidation.
"Y-you ordered a . . . a p-pizza t-two hours ago and . . . uh, because we
took so long to deliver you get it for half prize." I only got more
furious. My seduction . . . ruined by a pizza!!! When he saw the fire
in my eyes, (heck, the furnace, more like it!), he simply gave up on his
decision to brave the mad-woman and threw the pizza box at me. "I'm
sorry! Sorry I was so late! Here, it's free!" and ran off as if all the
furies of hell were on his tail, giving a crazy little shriek that echoed
down the hallway as I slammed the door behind him.
But then the steaming odor of the pizza pacified me. Food does that to
me, so sue me. All right, so my first attempt had come to an untimely
end. There was more than one battle in a war, right? Unfortunately, now
Mamo-chan would be on the lookout. He would be extra, EXTRA careful.
Okay, I could deal. I had a whole month, after all. I mean, I had
destroyed Beryl, Wiseman, Pharaoh 90, Neherenia, and Galaxia, right? How
difficult could it be to seduce the man who was already head-over-heels in
love with me? All in all, seducing Mamo-chan should be child's play.
Famous last words, everybody. Famous last words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had worked myself through most of Mamo-chan's pizza
(seducing was tiring business!) when the second opportunity of the day
decided to present itself. It seems my Mamo-chan had been rash in his
haste to escape from me and had forgotten that all his towels were
currently spinning happily in the gentle cycle of the washing machine. So
he was left with the options of parading out of the bathroom gloriously
naked (Hooray for option number one! Is this decision open to votes?), or
asking his lovely girlfriend, whose intentions he was secretly starting to
question being of a carnal bent, to find him something to dry
himself off with.
I was also all for option number two. It was a win-win situation, if
you ask me.
Option number two won out. "Uh, Usako? Usako!"
I rounded a wall and came into view of the bathroom door, munching
busily on a slice of pizza. "Hmmm?"
Pizza was summarily forgotten when I saw Mamo-chan peeking through a
crack of the open bathroom door. I could only see his head and catch a
glimpse of tantalizing wet shoulder. I swallowed. "Uh, yes, Mamo-chan?"
"Usako, could you get me a sheet or something to dry myself of with? I
forgot all my towels were in the wash."
"Sure, Mamo-chan. Er, don't go anywhere," I teased.
"I won't," he smiled, visibly relaxing at my light tone.
In case you wonder, I was not at this point planning anything fiendish.
I was just going to fetch a sheet and take it to him. No ulterior
motives.
I chose a clean sheet from the linen closet and dutifully stepped up to
the bathroom door, rapping lightly on the door with my knuckles.
Here is where I prove to you that what happened next wasn't my fault.
You see, it wasn't my fault that Mamo-chan had not completely latched the
door after he called me, now is it? It is also not my fault that my light
knocking was not so light that it didn't further open the door. It was
not my fault that Mamo-chan was still so edgy at his loss of control on
the couch that, when he saw me standing there, gaping, at the *open*
doorway, he reached for the first thing to cover himself. It was not my
fault that he reached for the shower curtain.
I refuse all blame for the faulty bolt that held the shower curtain rod.
No will of mine caused the rod to give out, throwing Mamo-chan completely
off balance and making him slip back into the filled tub, where he
promptly hit his head and passed out.
The damn sheet still hung from my hand as I stared, open mouthed, at all
the chaos my little knock had caused. It was perhaps thirty seconds later
that I realized Mamo-chan had not resurfaced from the full tub. Then I
was galvanized into action. I ran to the tub and peered in to see my very
naked Mamo-chan knocked out in the tub and drowning. I dropped the sheet
and plunged myself half in the tub to take him out, fighting to gain
purchase on the wet tiles. Finally, perhaps as drenched as he was, I
managed to lay him on the floor and begin mouth to mouth. I never even
thought about his nakedness, sheer terror having gripped me the moment I
saw him floating in the tub.
He came to in a fit of coughing and I hauled him to my chest, thanking
all the gods that Mamo-chan was okay, and he clung to me as he fought to
take deep breaths.
So you recall how I said it takes two? Well, it does. This is
relevant because suddenly we were not alone in that bathroom. Eight girls
gasped in unison and then stood paralyzed, seeing their wet naked prince
burrowing his head into their equally wet princess' chest, both
sprawled on the bathroom floor.
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
It was not my fault, and that is all I have to say about that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
to be continued
Oh, that was so much fun to write! What did you think!? Tell me, please!
I was up all night writing this, so I want to hear honest opinions. I'm
still trying to keep this as clean as possible, and it's getting hard, so
please bear with me.
salaices@leland.stanford.edu
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