The Hapless Uranus in Love

by Cass

[archive]

THE HAPLESS URANUS IN LOVE

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A fic by Cass to her absolutely , positively wonderful pal, GSL, who is

suffering from LOHMF (Lack Of Haruka & Michiru Fics).

ALERT! If reading about two females having a romantic relationship freaks you

out, read no further.

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim all ownership of Sailor Moon the series. Don't

worry, Ms. Naoko Takeuchi, you'll get the characters back all in one piece.

This I swear on all my tapes of Sailor Moon R and S.

C&C are most welcome. Send them to [email protected]

Http://web.singnet.com.sg/~chiaty

Flames will be used to warm up my freezing toes.

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<When after years of loneliness, you finally discover true friendship and

comraderie, when you find someone who understands you and still wants to be your

friend, you realise that perhaps Kami-sama isn't biased against you after all.

Life is pretty good. When you realise that you are in love with the above-

mentioned friend, life is absolutely wonderful! Of course, there might be a

slight off chance that the friend doesn't feel the same romantic pull towards

you.>

But Tenoh Haruka tossed that thought out along with other meaningless

thoughts like "Why is it a good show is always ruined by its sequels? When

Sailor Pluto stops time, does time pauses for that particular area or country or

for the entire planet? If she stops time often enough, does our calendar become

inaccurate?"

No, Haruka was a confident, in fact some might say, cocky fella. To her,

the possibility of rejection was remote, very remote. And if she had read her

friend and roommate's behaviour correctly, Michiru was very interested and was

merely waiting for her to make the first move.

<But what exactly should I do?> pondered Haruka. <I can't just blurt my

feelings out. I have to wait for a right time, a right place and for her to be

in a romantic mood. I have got to wait for the perfect moment to come by... Or

create one.> She smirked as she began planning.

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"Haruka?" Michiru called out tiredly as she opened the front door. "I'm

sorry I'm late. I'll start cooking dinner now." She walked to the kitchen and

stopped. And stared. Her immaculate, tidy, 'you-won't-be-able-to-find-a-

single-speck-of-dust-even-if-you-use-a-magnifying-glass' kitchen looked like...

like the accident site of a collision between two garbage disposal trucks! Her

favourite earthen pot had cracked and a thick brownish fluid was leaking out

from it and dripping onto her polished parquet floor. Pots and pans littered

the entire tabletop, containing substances best left unknown.

She finally noticed Haruka standing in the middle of the mess, looking

like a four-year-old guilty of breaking a vase. Right now, she could either

strangle the blond or cry at the mess. And she preferred the former - it won't

mess up her make-up. "What the HELL happened here?!" questioned Michiru

harshly.

Haruka winced. Michiru almost never swore. "I got hungry waiting for

you. So I decided to cook us dinner."

"Are you implying that it is MY fault for this mess?!"

"No! No! It is solely my fault. I'll clean it right up. You just take

a nice long bath and by the time you're out, this kitchen is as good as new!"

promised the blond.

Giving one final glare at her roommate, Michiru stalked out of the

kitchen.

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The next night... 6:30 pm

Haruka quickly placed the medium rare venison steaks on the table, next to

the lasgasne with many layers of cheese, <absolutely sinful> in her opinion.

The salad was in the refrigerator, along with a bottle of champagne and two

freshly baked blueberry pies were in the oven. After the disaster yesterday,

Haruka knew better than to attempt cooking anything more than instant noodles.

Yes, she has wizened up and ordered takeout.

Beaming at the delighted response Michiru would have, she sat down and lit

the candles, waiting for her love to return.

7:00pm.

Ring! Ring!

"Haruka, I'm going to be a little late. This rehearsal is taking longer

than expected."

"I'll wait for you. We'll have dinner together."

"Thanks. See you later."

Haruka sighed as she replaced the phone receiver back onto its cradle.

Looks like her plan would be a little delayed. She sat back down and watched

the flickering flames dance hypnotically in front of her.

8:30pm

Ring! Ring!

"Hello?"

"Hey, have you eaten?"

"No. Wasn't hungry."

"Well, I'm starving here. The director is a slave driver."

"Then skip the damn rehearsal."

"You know how much this violin recital means to me." A sigh. "You better

eat your dinner but save some for me."

<Never mind> thought Haruka as she hung up. <I'll wait for her.> Her

stomach growled loudly in protest.

10pm.

The phone rang again.

Groaning, Haruka slammed her head down repeatedly onto the tabletop,

desperately hoping to block out the damn ringing. <Bad news. Must be bad

news.>

The phone rang a couple more times, then the answering machine switched

on. "Haruka? The director is actually giving us a big treat. Suddenly, he's

so generous. Of course, his definition of a treat might be MacDonald's meals

for everyone. Anyway, I'll be home really late. There's no need to wait for

me, I'll catch a ride from someone. Good night."

"ARGH!" screamed Haruka. She would have banged her head to vent her

frustration but that might cause dents on the table. Instead, she opted for the

time-honoured tradition of screaming your lungs out and throwing all the food

away.

Of course, her stomach regretted the decision to dump all the uneaten food

into the dustbin hours later. But that's a secret between you and me.

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Now clearly frustrated, Haruka decided that the direct approach was the

best approach. And that was exactly what she did, one Saturday afternoon.

Infinitely pleased with the fact that she hadn't sounded like a nervous,

stammering fool, she waited for Michiru's reply.

Michiru turned around and smiled. "Haruka, do you think this red blouse

clashes with my hair? Perhaps, I should wear this baby blue dress instead.

What do you think?" She held up the two articles of clothing for Haruka's

inspection.

"Uh... the blue dress looks nice."

Michiru smiled in appreciation, causing Haruka's heart to soar.

"Uh, Michiru? Did you hear what I said earlier?" asked Haruka

tentatively, a minute later.

"About what?"

"About... about my... Oh hell, it was nothing," growled Haruka, stalking

off to somewhere private to release her frustration.

Michiru looked up in surprise from her inspection of her outfit. <Did I

hear soft banging noises coming from Haruka's bedroom?>

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<Ok, so maybe she was too pre-occupied with selecting a great outfit for

the violin recital, to hear what I said. I'm a patient person. What's a few

failed attempts at romance when compared to the depth of my love for her?>

"Michiru," Haruka whispered, while stirring her cup of coffee.

"Hmm?"

Grabbing her love's hand, Haruka boldly forged on. "We've been friends

for several years now and I think that I know you almost as well as I know

myself. I'm not sure how you feel about me. But I have to tell you that these

few years together are the best years of my life. And I never want these good

times to end." Her heart pounded wildly as she realised that this time she

_would_ succeed in proclaiming her love. "Michiru, I..."

Michiru looked down at the swirling depths of her cafe latte. "A storm is

brewing in the sea. There's a disturbance nearby, the park I think. Come on,

Sailor Moon might need us," interrupted the aquamarine haired beauty. She

hurriedly walked out of the cafe.

Haruka sighed in response as she paid the bill. <It is times like these

that I think that God is against me.>

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(Three days later. Early morning.)

"Michi," murmured Haruka sleepily, her arm instinctively searching for the

silky soft skin of Kaioh Michiru, her Michiru. Finding only the cold sheets and

pillows, she frowned a little and opened her eyes. Her sight confirmed what her

touch had informed her - no scantily clad, gorgeous artist here. She would have

thought that Michiru was the type who snuggled, especially after the first night

of lovemaking. <Maybe she regretted it> Haruka thought fearfully. <Maybe I

hadn�t made it clear to her last night � that my love for her was eternal, that

this wasn�t a one night stand.> By now fully awake, Haruka padded out of her

room, only pausing to wrap a robe around her.

Finding her lover in the kitchen whipping up breakfast for two, Haruka

expelled her deepest fears. "Hey, Michi," whispered Haruka huskily as she

tightly embraced her lover from behind.

"Morning," replied Michiru as she fried some eggs. "Now, if you don't

mind, I'll like to be able to breathe."

Always the considerate lover, Haruka loosened her embrace - just a little.

Michiru moved out of her embrace and started rummaging through the

refrigerator for some orange juice. "My, aren't you friendly this morning? You

must have had a really good dream. Poor me, I was so nervous about today's

violin recital that I was awake in my room the whole night."

The wide self-satisfied grin Haruka wore, faltered for a second. "The

whole night?"

"Yeah. I was tossing and turning in my bed for half the night. Then I

decided to be productive and read a novel."

"Oh." The grin was gone and wasn't scheduled to make a re-appearance

anytime soon. <That means that we didn't... But I thought... A dream?>

Haruka walked stiffly back to her room and sat down on her bed. <A dream? I

dreamed it all? Nooooooooo!!!>

Back in the kitchen, Michiru stifled her urge to laugh. A girl was

entitled to some payback. After all, she had suffered two whole years of

lusting after the blond racer and watching her flirt with other girls. Yeah,

she would test Haruka's patience for another week.

Or maybe longer.

She looked at the closed door to Haruka's bedroom and giggled.

 

 

The End

 

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