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