skiangel_sv@lycos.com

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, welcome to the greatest show on
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there! So glad you could make it. A few notes and we are off (not 
unlike that obscenly rich American fellow who blasted off into space
a while back).

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beginning and end of this fic for your communication convenience.

And just so that no one is surprised, this is an AR fic. Bwa ha ha. 

Thanks are warmly extended to Herman and Jessica, who have stuck with 
me through 3 years of school and now must depart. I love you guys,
always have, always will. Thanks as well to ASMR, Andrea-chan (lets
hear it for the most wonderful webmistress around!) and to all those
kind and wonderful people who e-mail me!

And as always, to Mary Ann and Skott this fic is dedicated, for reasons
I could not begin to list! ,

"O is for Oz. Do you want to visit the magical land of Oz where there is a 
wizard and a dancing scarecrow and the roads are made of yellow brick and 
everything is emerald green? Well, you CAN'T, because there is no land of 
Oz and there is no Tin Woodsman and there IS NO SANTA CLAUS!!! Maybe someday 
you can go to Detroit."

-Shel Silverstein 'Uncle Shelby's ABZ'ss'
(This stuff slays me!) 

Disclaimer: Children of the 80's, unite under a banner of Gummie Bear's
		She-Ra, Popples, Jem, Care Bears, My Little Pony and Sailor
		Moon! All trademarks copyright of their respective owners,
		who are very lucky and rich people and don't we all wish 
		that was us?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ = change in POV
- .... - = thought

Operation: YES!!!
by Lyra Matsuoka
Rated PG

Chapter One: Men are from WHERE?!?!?

*~*~*~*~* Serena's POV *~*~*~*~*

	"So, who are you going to prom with?"

	Ah, the question dreaded by single students everywhere. But most 
especially by single *female* students. The Prom, as all girls know,
is nothing like Sweetheart Ball or Sadie Hawkins. It is up to the guys
to do the asking for Prom, leaving all girls in mortal fear of being 
left out in the cold. The female of the species has little recourse if
she is not asked, the set rules of Prom week standing as they do. It
is chavanistic and old fashioned.

	But in spite of the archaic customs which accompany it, everyone 
looks forward to Prom. Even fathers seem to derive a peculiar satisfaction 
out of polishing each gun in their possesion. On Prom night, in full 
view of their daughter's date, thereby convincing him not to attempt
any thing that might be remotly considered funny buisness. Which makes
most dates so nervous they don't even try for a goodnight kiss. Still, 
the three weeks before Prom are wracked with a nervous anticipation,
planning and creative asking techniques. 

	In the last two weeks, four of my classes had been interupted by
some guy asking some girl to prom. My phys ed class had been showered 
with sky blue balloons, streamers and sparkling confetti. My history 
lecture on the Crusades had been disturbed by an actor in a fuzzy monkey
suit singing 'My Girl'. My Spanish teacher gave up on us when we saw a
guy running down the hall scattering rose petals everywhere. He simply 
couldn't understand why his class might find that more entertaining then
conjugating basic verbs and filling out worksheets. And yesterday
I had arrived at school to see a white banner with red lettering flapping 
from the flagpole. 

	And still, I had not been asked to Prom.

	All my friends had been. All their friends had been. But I hadn't 
been asked. Not that I minded too terribly much. No, really, I didn't 
mind. I had never been much in to spending $200 on a dress I was planning
to wear once and never again, not to mention the exorbitant fees my date 
would be forking out all through the evening. So, though I was feeling a
little down, I certainly wasn't desperate.

	So I couldn't have appeared overly let down or sad when I walked
into the Crown Arcade on Tuesday, April 14th. It was a full 2 weeks until
the prophetic Junior-Senior Prom, but the arcade was decked out. Colorful
streamers were dangling from the doorway. I pushed my way through, batting
at the crepe paper pieces which seemed determined to cling to my hair and
clothing. I entered the arcade, and glanced around. It was unusually quiet,
but I didn't stop to consider that. Instead I walked inside, plopped down
on a bar stool, and opened the latest issue of 'Seventeen: Prom Special'.

	Seeing as how I was so engrossed in my magazine, it was hardly 
surprising that I didn't even glance up at the ringing bell and opening 
door. Nor did I notice when two guys plopped down on the bar stools at the
opposite end of the counter. I did notice, however, when a voice yelled
for Andrew.

	"Yo, Andrew, I'm hungry out here! How about a little service?"

	*That* got my attention, as loud obnoxious yelling tends to do. 
So I glanced up. And what should I see but a stunning pair of sapphire 
blue eyes staring straight at me. And as if the eyes weren't enough, 
they just happened to be attached to one Darien Chiba, football 
quarterback, basketball team captain and star center and the most 
popular guy in school. Right. I returned my eyes to my head and focused 
them on a lovely selection of skin care products before the information 
had time to process. No telling what would have happened if I hadn't done 
that. 

	However, I did shoot a sidelong glance at his companions. Chad
Somebody, Greg Somebody and Andrew Who Worked Here. Last names are,
after all, irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Besides, these
guys were a grade ahead of me, and therefore considered to be
alien beings. Anyway, his companions being no great surprise, I went
back to my magazine.

	"So, fellas, how goes the Prom planning?" Andrew asked, placing
milkshakes and burgers in front of them. "Tuxes?"

	"Check," they all replied dutifully.

	"Corsages?" 

	"Check."

	"Limo built for eight?"

	"Cmmmefk." I interpereted this meaningless sound as a check.

	"Date? And who is the lucky girl?"

	"Check. Raye Hino," Chad commented. My ears sharpened. Now I *was*
interested. "She's a junior."   
	 
	"Nice, nice. Greg?"

	"Amy Mizuno. She's Raye's friend and a junior."

	"Lovely. I myself am being permitted to escort the lovely Reika. 
Darien?"

	To my utmost surprise, Darien Chiba groaned and droped his head to 
the counter and began rythmically pounding it on the formica. I couldn't
help myself. I stared in shock, which I'm sure made a lovely sight.

	Fortunatly, no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to me.

	Andrew was obviously surprised. "Is that a check?" he asked.

	"Nope," Greg said around a mouthful of beef and tomato.
Chad swallowed his bite before he contributed.

	"Not that he hasn't tried. Every girl he asks either already has 
a date or is convinced that he's playing a practical joke on them. The
last girl burst into tears and slammed her locker on his hand before 
running off down the hall."

	It took a lot of self control not to laugh at that. A whole lot.
I probably deserve an award of some kind. Andrew didn't bother with
an attempt. He laughed aloud. I saw Darien raise his head from the 
counter and level a glare at Andrew. He stopped laughing.

	"Terrible, terrible thing. Not at all amusing..." Andrew snickered.
To his credit he *was* trying not to laugh. Not as hard as he could have
been, but he was trying nonetheless.

	"How many have you asked?" Andrew questioned, still trying to
master his amusment.

	Darien held up both hands to reveal nine fingers. He then groaned 
again and covered his head with his hands.

	*Nine*? The great Darien Chiba had asked *nine* girls to the biggest
dance and social event of the high school year and they had *all* turned
him down?! This was priceless! See, Darien had always struck me as a
little too cocky, a bit too condescending. He was sarcastic, cold and
all the girls loved him. Even I was forced to admit he was drop dead 
gorgeous. But that didn't excuse his being an arrogant jerk, which
he was most of the time. Walked around the school like he owned it,
all the girls wanting to date him and all the guys wishing they *were*
him. I really hated that kind of snobbish superiority. And the fact
that he was obscenly wealthy and let every one know it didn't improve
my opinion of him. So I was glad to see him knocked down a peg 
or two.  

	And before you start in on me, I will admit that I had no personal
reason not to be nice to Darien Chiba. He'd never been unkind to me. But
I didn't like him. He just...bothered me. So I struggled to keep a 
grin off my face yet again. I wished fervently that I had been there to
see Darien get his fingers slammed in a metal door! So I was struggling
to keep my eyes averted and my head down. 

	And I was saved from being horribly embarassed by laughing my
a$$ off by my friends Raye, Amy, Lita and Mina, who chose that moment 
to make their grand entrance into the arcade. Amy blushed and ducked 
her head when she saw Greg, and Raye tossed her head and ignored Chad. 
Mina sat down next to me and pulled the magazine toward her.

	"Aroma Therapy for Feet: Pamper your Toesies," she read, nonplussed.
And that gave me the perfect outlet for my laughter. So, nobody glared
or tried to flatten me and my universe was peaceful again. But as the
girls chattered around me I tuned back into the conversation that
was taking place at the other end of the counter.

	"Darien, you can't go without a date," Andrew mused.

	"Well, no s@$#, Sherlock," Darien stated.

	"So, let us think. Who do we know who hasn't been asked to the Prom?"

	The guys started tossing out unfamiliar names, and I pulled myself
back to my friends and their conversation. The arcade was filling quickly
and the noise level had risen alarmingly, so I couldn't hear what the guys
were saying anyway. Mina had flipped to the dress section and we were 
glancing through the pages of incredible dresses that were so far out
of our budget it was expensive to even dream about them. And then came
the moment I had been dreading all day long.

	"So, Serena, who are you going to the Prom with?" Mina asked, 
drooling over a topaz silk creation.

	"No one. I haven't been asked," I stated. No, I was not ashamed
to say it! I was not attending Prom. Of course, the hour I had spent
practicing those six little words in front of the mirror probably
hadn't hurt...

	Remember the noise level I mentioned earlier? Well, it was
rising every minute. I never would have imagined that Andrew, Greg,
Chad and Darien would have heard me say that. But they did. I looked
up and toward Andrew to order a milkshake and saw his eyes narrowed
with speculation. A quick glance showed that the other three were
wearing the same expression. Oh, God. - Avert eyes. Like *now* would
be appropriate.- But in spite of what my brain was telling my eyes
to do, my eyeballs had their own ideas. They prefered to stay focused
right on Darien Chiba. And so I was looking straight at him when his
self-assured smile started creeping onto his face once more.  

	I looked away coldly and turned my attention back to my magazine.
No way would *the* Darien Chiba deign to leap from his pedestal and 
even speak to me...

	"Serena? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

	Damn. 

	I looked up into Darien Chiba's face. He was leaning on the counter
on Mina's other side. A glance around showed my spellbound friends gazing
at Darien. Great.

	"Yes?" I said, schooling my face into calm lines. This was not
happening.

	"Hey, girls, would you mind..." Darien addressed my friends. They
were gone so fast you'd have thought an air raid siren went off.

	"Where's the fire?" I muttered.

	"So, Serena," Darien flashed me his lady killer smile.

	"So, Darien," I said back. I kept a smile off my face. - Just
don't encourage him, girl. He doesn't get a response, he'll go away.-

	"I couldn't help but overhear that you don't have a date for
the Prom," Darien began. I raised an eyebrow and looked around the
arcade. He followed my gaze. Games flashing, beeping and playing
theme music while kids yelled at each other and thumped hands and
feet on the plastic and metal of their chosen entertainment console.
I turned my eyes back to Darien and raised another eyebrow. He grinned
a little sheepishly.

	Now, I feel it critical to explain that I didn't object to
being asked to Prom. All my friends were going and it would no
doubt be a good time. What I objected to was being so far down on 
the list of possibles that Mr. Chiba had to get his fingers 
pulverized before he would even deign to glance my way. Not very
flattering. I, after all, have my standards. But there was always
the chance that this whole thing was a big mistake. That Mr. Chiba
would realize that he was about to commit a large social mistake and
would back off before anything embarrasing happened. Or rather,
before I was forced to cause a scene. 

	- Come on, Chiba. Just walk away. Turn around and walk back to
your friends. Not complicated. Easy, breezy, beautiful...Cover Girl,-
I thought. And that did it. I smiled broadly and that was all the
encouragement the dunce needed. A mental joke on my part, and he
thought that smile was for him. Blast and damn.

*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*

	She was smiling! Wonderful! This seemed promising. We were
a full two minutes into the pre-ask conversation and she had
neither slammed a locker/door in my face/on my fingers and 
her eyes were completely dry - no tears in the making. Better
and better. And she had admitted that she didn't have a date.
This was a perfect solution. I'd ask her, she'd say yes, and 
I wouldn't have to endure another round of merciless teasing
from my so called friends.

	- Now, don't let up on the pressure now, Chiba. Time to
turn up the charm...-

	"Serena, did you want to order something?" Andrew butted in.
Serena swung her head around to focus on my so-called best buddy
and in so doing missed my megawatt smile. Andrew was a dead man.

	"Yeah," Serena chirped. "Double chocolate malt."

	"Coming right up," Andrew replied, winking at Serena as
he walked away. I squashed down my annoyance and turned back to 
the buisness at hand. This would be easy.

	"Serena, would you like to go to the Prom with me?" There.
Simple and straight forward. Serena just stared at me. And burst 
out laughing.

*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*

	This was great! No wonder the guy couldn't get a date! 
No finesse, no sweet talk. He didn't even bother with a rose
or carnation or some other type of floral decoration to make
his blunt proposal seem romantic. And now he looked offended
by *my* laughter. Tremendous! But, he had asked. And he 
deserved a response. So I took a few deep breaths and managed
to calm down. It took a few minutes, but I managed it. I looked
up at him, a smile still playing around my lips.

	"No, thank you."

	And in a move that would have done Catherine Zeta-Jones 
proud, I flipped my hair and turned back to my magazine. My
answer took a full three seconds to sink in.

	"What?"

	"Well, in my experience, 'no' has only one meaning," I
replied, idly turning a page in my magazine. Truly stunning
hairstyles on this page. Gravity defiance was at its height,
and I was impressed.

	"What?" he asked again, this time a little more loudly.
The noise level in the arcade started going down.

	"No, thank you," I stated yet again, this time looking
up into his blue, blue eyes. He looked gorgeous, as always.  

	-Be strong...stick to your guns...Why am I saying no?
Ah, yes, pride...must maintain standards...- 

	What, you thought it was *easy* for me to maintain this
effect of cool composure? Please. I really have a fetish for 
blue eyes, and it *really* wasn't fair that he looked that
good in everyday clothes. I made a mental note to write my 
congressman concerning the issue.

	"Might I inquire why?" he asked, his voice dropping to
a dangerously low level. Okay, now I was getting pissed. Blue
eyes or no, the boy had the second highest GPA in his class 
for God's sake. This was not compicated!

	"You want to know why? Okay, let me fill you in. You,
oh mighty lord of the school, are not the only one capabal
of evesdropping. I happened to overhear that *nine* girls
have turned you down. To be considered only after *nine* 
rejections is bad enough, but the fact that you only asked
me because I was conveniant *really* annoys me. Perhaps
you should consider adding a little charm and creativity
when you ask number *eleven.* Just a suggestion." 

	"All right," Darien said, his mouth tight and his
smile somewhat less brilliant. Andrew chose that moment
to walk over with my chocolate malt. Smiling, I reached 
for it. So did Darien. He got to it first. Grabbing my
malt, he went down on one knee and held it up to me.

	"Darling Serena," he said in a voice that dripped 
with disdain. "Would you do me the honor of attending the
Prom with me?" 

	I smiled sweetly, and reached for the frosty glass. 
Darien let go without much of a fight, and I carried it up to 
my mouth and took a sip. Darien was still waiting for
my reply, and I noticed that all eyes were on us. 

	Perfect.

	No self respecting teenage girl would let that snide, sarcastic
sorta-kinda-maybe official ask go unanswered. That would be *rude*.
However, a simple 'no' didn't seem appropriate at this moment.
No, this situation called for something veeeeeeery special.

	Grasping the stem of the glass, I dumped a delicious chocolate 
malt, whipped cream and all, onto Darien Chiba's head. The arcade 
was dead silent; no one was quite sure how to react. Even I 
was surprised. Hey, it takes guts to publicly humiliate 
a high school deity in full view of his minions. And
Darien Chiba with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice
cream running down his neck was not a sight that students
at my school were treated to every day. I think they
were trying not to laugh. I, on the other hand, was
trying not to gloat.  

	"No," I commented. One word, so deadly and 
yet so full of certainty. Then I scooped up my books 
and magazine and walked out into the blinding sun, 
leaving a silent arcade and a dripping athlete in
my wake. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	So there it is! Whatcha guys think, huh?
	
	By the way, this fic is loosely based on two of the students
at my school. So, Laura and Josh, I wish you all the happiness in
the world, and hope that your real life romance is just as wonderful
as Serena and Dariens and that it lasts just as long.  

	Hey, guys, got any Prom stories you want to share? Mail me and 
lemme know! Otherwise, just mail me and tell me what you thought of my
story...

skiangel_sv@lycos.com