Title: Short Stuff: Sailor Moon
Category: Anime/Manga - Sailor Moon
Language: English, Rating: Fiction Rated: K
Genre: Romance/Humor

Hey, y'all. *tugs at collar nervously* Well! As the summary says, this is my first foray back into creative writing in SIX YEARS (i.e. the end of high school; I wrote until that point in time); its rough, unedited (completely, I literally just thought of it and on impulse attempted to write it out), and it all looks like "Fail. Failfailfail. 'Fail?' Failfail." to me, but....at least its a first step, right? Right? (-LOL-)

Story Background: I'm a member of the usako_mamoru LJcomm, and I write this short scene after being suddenly inspired by fellow member umigiri's old drabble that she'd posted there. I didn't ask her permission to repost her drabble here, so I'll just give the LJ post link here (htt p : / / commu nity . liv ejo urn al .c o m / usa ko _ma mo ru / 4 34 09 2 . ht ml) and summarize the event in the drabble: Mamoru hides his proposal to Usagi - a ring and note - near the bottom of a container full of chocolates, and figures it won't take long for her to get to the bottom of things. -lol- My story takes it from there.

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He'd barely left the kitchen entryway before she suddenly appeared and bustled by him, dropping a quick peck on his cheek, not noticing that his sudden pallor was not how he usually reacted to her offerings of affection.

Quite obviously her mind was on a more pressing matter.

Mamoru practically dived for the couch, choosing a side that was parallel to the kitchen entrance, so as to be forewarned of...well, anything. Something. The thing. Whatever! He just felt like sitting there, at that spot, and reading a newspaper called Cosmopolitan in his own special way, with his eyes glued to the kitchen, where he could se--er, hear Usagi humming under her breath and randomly opening cabinet doors.

What was taking her so long!?

When he'd been putting the plan together, he'd had a vague picture in his mind on how she'd react. "Oh, Mamo-chan! Yes! A thousand times, yes!" punctuated, of course, with much high-pitched squealing. Its funny, once the sound of it alone would've been enough to put him into a coma, but since they've been together, it was just more of the sweet sounds his Usa-chan made in her delightfully sweet, lilting voice, like music to his ears--

--That he no longer was hearing. The apartment was silent.

Ohhh, god. Ohgodohgodohgod...

He couldn't stand it. Dropping the novel in his hands, he shuffled quietly towards the kitchen, looking quite ungainly and very unlike himself, until reaching the doorway, where he promptly froze. Usagi stood in the corner by the fridge, her back to him, head tilted down towards whatever she held in her hands (Ohgodohgod) - but it was the stiffness in her pose that released him from his paralysis.

"...Usako?"

She whirled towards him, and in that one instant he was gutted. Her face was flushed...and wet from tears. Because she. . .

He almost took an involuntary step towards her, but her pinched expression cleared somewhat when she saw him, and miraculously she stepped towards him. One hand holding the cursedstupidideadumbass chocolate jar still, she reached up to his now-ashen cheek with the other, took a deep breath, and whispered his name. But her face...though still a contrasted flushed and wet to his pale and cold, he saw the beginnings of a smile, and something in him flickered, and warmed.

It was now or never.

"Well...did you...what--what do you say?" Oh, smooth. Dumbass.

And with that the smile broke completely and took over her entire face, and had barely replicated a copy of itself onto his face before he was suddenly holding an armful of Usako and a tiny dent of cold glass jar at his ribs. But what did that matter, when Usagi was smothering his face with kisses and laughing in between each one, and he was reciprocating the attention...

Finally they both calmed somewhat, and Usagi pulled back slightly to stare into his eyes, a tiny, perfect grin still remaining on her face. He waited, floating far beyond the geometric tiled flooring of the kitchen, no doubt on some numerically labeled cloud in the heavens, while his angel eased closer and closer to him 'til their noses touched, opened her mouth-- Yes, yes, a thousand times--

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"