SUBURBAN SENSHI EPISODE TWO: "Technology Bytes" EPISODE PREVIEW What's this? Haruka's discovered the Internet? Why is Michiru mad at eBay? And why is Setsuna going insane? Hotaru, this is all your fault! The brand new Situation Comedy: SUBURBAN SENSHI, continues with its second episode!! Hotaru: This story contains spoilers for S, SuperS and Stars later on. There is also mild anarchy involved. Consider yourself warned. If you wilfully ignore my warning and learn about matters that you had wished kept from you-- and then complain about it, I will cheerfully dissect you with my Silence Glaive. By Dr. Xadium (drxadium@DEATHTOSPAMgate.net) Naoko Takeuchi is hereby thanked for her involuntary contribution to this fanfic. Portions plagiarized from the Anarchist's Cookbook. You'll know which bits. TEASER "So," Haruka said, hefting the long, ribbed object in her left hand experimentally, "you just put this inside..." "Exactly," Pedro confirmed. "Just be sliding it in and then begin with the pumping action." Haruka grunted as she thrust it in. It was not as hard as she had expected. "Excellent," Pedro said with deep satisfaction. "For now you have become the master of the art of self-serve refueling. There is no more I am having to teach you." Haruka snorted with disgust as the gas pump began dispensing fuel into her car's gas tank. "I can't believe I actually *paid* someone to do such a simple thing for me all these years." Pedro the Gas Man* chuckled. "It is an honor and a privilege to have one such as yourself here at my humble establishment." *Pedro from Excel Saga has a new job! Haruka, in something of a hypnotic daze, watched the gas pump's gauge spin for a few seconds, marvelling as the liters sold-- and the eventual hole in her wallet-- grow larger. Her concentration was broken, however, by the sound of a roaring engine, followed by gunfire and police sirens. Turning away from the pump, she saw a massively overpowered '66 Mustang painted in jet black roaring down the street, bullets raining from an Uzi pointed out the driver's side window. Far behind the Mustang, several police cars rushed, dodging their exploding bretheren as the Uzi bullets found their lethal mark. "Who's that?" Haruka asked Pedro, nodding her head at the driver of the black mustang, who looked like a cross between Chong (of Cheech and Chong fame) and Rick Steiner (of WCW wrestling fame) on a serious dose of trippy stimulants. "Oh, he is Insane Eddie 'El Diablo' Vasquez. Es muy malo. Every day he tears through these streets in his demon car, shooting up the police. They are powerless against his Super Race Car from Hell, the 'El Demonico V'... they say no one can catch--" Pedro found himself talking to a cloud of exhaust smoke as Haruka and her car were gone from the fueling station in a roar. "You cannot hope to catch El Diablo!" Pedro yelled. Dimly, he noted that there was fuel spilling all over the ground-- Haruka had left without removing the gas nozzle from her tank, and had thus ripped the hose in half. Before Pedro could react, however, his cell phone rang.* *Cell phones have been known to make dangerous sparks! Never use them at gas stations, especially ones where fuel is leaking all over the ground!! "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Pedro yelled as he and his gas station went up in flames. A FEW MINUTES LATER Rose petals drifted into view. Haruka, her clothes and face charred black, walked calmly into the driveway of her house. A small wisp of smoke issued forth from her hair, but she didn't notice-- or at least pretended that she didn't. "Haruka-poppa?" Hotaru asked with detached concern as she came out the front door. "Are you all right?" "Certainly," Haruka said, flashing a winning grin. "I simply had to teach a wayward criminal some manners, that's all. He leaned a painful lesson-- no one may use a car as an instrument of evil as long as Ten'ou Haruka breathes air." "Where's the car?" Hotaru asked, stepping behind Haruka to look. There was a crunching noise as she moved. "You're stepping on it," Haruka said somewhat less enthusiastically. Hotaru picked a pathetically small piece of licence plate off the bottom of her shoe. "That's all they could find," Haruka said solemnly. "Between having the back end being on fire due to the gas tank exploding, and having a high- speed demolition derby with the *truly* Insane Eddie Vasquez, there wasn't much left." "And what of this 'Eddie'?" Hotaru asked. "How's he?" Haruka paused, holding a finger up in the air. "You know that American idiom, 'Street Pizza'?" Hotaru nodded numbly. "Well, that's too clean a description." "Aughh!" Haruka stumbled forward, falling to the ground. "Your leg." Hotaru said clinically. "Yeah, it's broken," Haruka muttered, standing up again and hobbling to the front door. "Shouldn't you be in a cast?" Hotaru asked. "Not that I don't see some divine justice in your suffering, considering the pain you've inflicted upon me in the past, but still--" "Nonsense!" Haruka said, waving off Hotaru. "If there is anything famed anime director Kuniko Ikuhara has taught us, is that neither Michiru nor I are capable of being brought low by the fallabilities of the common man. A broken leg is as nothing. My inherent perfection will come through, you'll see." Rose petals drifted around Haruka, and then a whole ton of wet petals suddenly slammed down onto her head, knocking her down. "But that only works in public," Hotaru said resignedly. "You're at home now." "Damn." Haruka passed out under the weight of the soggy petals. ACT ONE - PLUGGING IN THE NEXT DAY "The Internet connection from NTT DoCoMo is complete," Mizuno Ami said, hooking up some wires into the new household computer. "Do you think you can do this now, Hotaru?" Ami asked as a teacher would. Hotaru, who had been intently taking lessons on computing technology from Ami, nodded. "I'm sure I can, thank you." "If I might ask, why did you change to NTT's service instead of Panasonic's HiHo DSL?" "The HiHo characters frightened me. I still can't get their song out of my head"* * live the horror (Flash .swf files) at http://newtown.hi-ho.ne.jp/raibo/raidersei/image/agency/cm/ (yes, these are REAL ads) Ami nodded. "Well, shall we go?" She took a look at Hotaru's flower- wallpapered bookshelf and frowned, but said nothing. "What?" Hotaru asked, following her gaze. "The decor was definitely not my idea." "Not the decor," Ami said under her breath, trying to avoid discussion. She mentally chastised herself for even having a reaction to what she had seen. Forcing a smile, she gestured to the room door. "Shall we? That ice cream you promised me in exchange for the DSL installation awaits." "You mean these." Hotaru said flatly, pointing to the books on the bottommost shelf of her library. The titles read: YOUR FATHER IS NOT MARRIAGE MATERIAL DAD IS NOT YOUR HOMEBOY KEEPING IT IN THE FAMILY IS A BAD IDEA INBREEDING CAN HAPPEN TO YOU HOW TO AVOID BECOMING YOUR OWN MOTHER LEARNING TO LOVE YOUR SPECIES BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: AN ARRESTABLE OFFENSE HORROR STORIES OF HUMAN-HORSE INTERACTION WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK VOL. 7: HORSEPLAY GONE TOO FAR Ami swallowed slightly. "Umm, yes." Hotaru shook her head. "The price of friendship. I had to read all this to prepare myself." "Prepare yourself for what?" Ami almost didn't want to know, but a morbid curiousity drove her on. Hotaru gestured to the first set of books. "It took me a whole year to get Chibiusa off her neurotic obsession with her father. Now, as soon as I think she's normalized," she pointed to the second set, "we have The Horse to deal with." "Pegasus?" Ami asked inquiringly. Hotaru nodded. "So what if he can turn into a boy at convenient intervals? One day, after the wedding, she'll wake up to find the groom nibbling on carrots and sugar cubes and expecting a REAL roll in the hay. Then what?!" Ani frowned. "You've put far too much thought into this." "Would you rather I leave my best friend running around town telling everyone she's in love with a Horse?" "He's mythical?" Ami countered weakly. "So is Mephisto, it doesn't mean you'd want him running around with you... unless you were a closet Faustian or something... but at least that deal gives you infinite power... not a combination bridegroom / racehorse!" "I wonder," Ami said neutrally, pondering this for the first time, "would a flying horse be at an advantage in a horse race? Would he be permitted to enter?" "You're missing the point," Hotaru said dryly, picking up a copy of "THE SICK TRUTH ABOUT HORSING AROUND" and heading for the door. "Let's go eat some Ice Cream while I ponder how to break the truth to Chibiusa about her fantasy love." Going downstairs, the two girls saw Haruka sitting idly on the couch, her plastered left leg propped on a footstool. "We're going now, Haruka-poppa," Hotaru said. Haruka waved absently, sipping a can of slightly expensive beer. Ami nudged Hotaru when they were out the front door. "Hotaru, you've re- aged to your proper age of 23. Don't you think you should stop calling Haruka-san 'Haruka-poppa'?" Hotaru shook her head. "Every time I say 'poppa', somwwhere in the back of her mind, Haruka's guilt responds, eating away at her subconcious like a dark plague. It reminds her of the terrible wrongs she did to me, and the fact that I now look up to her as a parental figure-- she, who has done so much harm-- it will eventually eat her alive." Hotaru chuckled. "Only then, at her darkest hour, will I accept her repentance and allow her forgiveness." Ami nodded blankly. Sometimes Hotaru was just plain scary. ACT TWO - LOGGING ON IN THE HOUSE "Haruka-poppa" echoed in Haruka's ears. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, her subconcious smiled. That kid really really loved her, despite her angry words to the contrary every time they spoke for more than five minutes. "Michiru!" Haruka called out, but got no reply. "MICHIRU!" She must still be outside working on her new painting, Haruka mused. "Excellent," she said to herself, getting out of her plaster cast. As a Senshi of the outer solar system she had remarkable healing and recovery power even for a Sailor Senshi, and so her broken leg had already healed in the hours since it had been hurt. But she wouldn't let the others know it was fine just yet-- after all, sympathy was nice. After tomorrow they'd reason it was healed anyway. Better to milk the injury while she could. The doorbell rang. "Damn!" Haruka exclaimed, quickly hopping back into her cast and grabbing some crutches. Hobbling over to the door, she opened it, but saw no one. "Ahem," came a small voice from below. "Chibiusa-chan?" Haruka asked, looking down at the tiny, pink-haired girl. "Hotaru just left." "Actually, I'm looking for Puu." Haruka tilted her head up and to the left, indicating the upstairs. "She's in her room, locked up. I don't know what she's been doing the last few days, actually. She might like a visit from 'Small Lady'." Chibiusa smiled and ran in, bounding up the stairs to Setsuna's room. "She didn't even notice my leg," Haruka pouted. "Nice fashion statement," Nephlite said suavely as he passed by the front door with Naru hanging on his arm. "Sorry to hear about your car-- if you want, I have a Volkwagen Thing out back you can borrow if you need to get around-- but then again, it might be too fast for you." He laughed diabolically. Haruka fumed. UPSTAIRS "Puu!" Chibiusa yelled at a closed door. "PUU!" She pounded on it. From behind the door, a muffled voice could be heard. "Leave me alone!" Chibiusa was taken aback. The terrified, distraught voice she heard coming from the back of the door was nothing like the calm, reserved tone she was usually used to hearing from Meioh Setsuna. "I'm coming in!" Chibiusa announced, producing her Luna-P floating toy. "Luna-P! Change into a bazooka!"* *Spending time with Usagi has not taught Chibiusa the fine art of subtlety. KRAKATHOOM! Amidst the debris and rubble that had been the forward half of Setsuna's room, Chibiusa found a crouching, disheveled Setsuna staring down bleakly at the ground. In her left hand he was clutching a half-crumpled note, which Chibi-Usa gently tore from her grasp and read. It's lack of Kanji and frequent strikeouts pegged it as a letter from her future mother, Neo-Queen Serenity: "Setsuna, because of your un^H^Hinability to wield the Garnet Orb, and your consequences^H^H^Ht inability to control the Time Gate, you are relieved of duty until futher notice. Please take care of Small Lady for me as my present self, I mean my self not presently now but presently then, umm, I mean my self that is there with *you* will be too busy trying to concive^H^Heve Chibiusa to actually be bothered taking care of her and you have nothing else to do and we wouldn't want you to get bored. Thanks!" "YAY!" Chibiusa exclaimed. "You get to take care of me! We'll be spending ALL of our time together from now on!" Setsuna sobbed heavily. Chibiusa looked at her askance. "What's wrong, Puu?" Setsuna looked at her with wild, blood red eyes. "What's wrong? What's wrong, you ask? I can't see the future, that's what's wrong!" "But--" Chibiusa began. "I spent my whole life, my whole LONG life, being cool and mysterious because I could wander amongst you humans and tell you things before they were going to happen. I could prognosticate events to 99% probability. I knew just when to waltz in, and just what to say in order to set events into motion the way I wanted them to go. "Meioh Setsuna, never at a loss for words-- never saying or doing the wrong thing because she had seen all the possibilities and she always picked the right one! Setsuna, the woman who always had the answers, the woman who held time and space, life and death, right in the palm of her hand-- I was a player on the grand stage of the Cosmos, hell, I was THE player! I traded a lifetime of solitude and onerous duty for the ability to be BETTER than everyone else, and now... and now... I'm just like one of YOU!" Setsuna sobbed at the humanity of it all. Literally.* * ATTENTION OSCAR JUDGES: YOUR CHECK IS IN THE MAIL. THANK YOU. "But at least I'm here!" Chibiusa said brightly. "Now that the Time Gate is off limits, I'm stuck here for possibly forever!" Setsuna began to bawl. "Hmm," Chibiusa pondered. "If that's true, then I can be my own big sister when present me gets born."* *Somewhere, Hotaru felt the need to buy a whole new set of books. DOWNSTAIRS "She wasn't crying that loudly when she saw my broken leg," Haruka said with disgust as she tried to block out the wails of sorrow coming from the upstairs. Carefully making her way up the stairs with her crutches, Haruka decided to go see what was wrong with Setsuna, but stopped in front of Hotaru's room. The door was ajar, and Hotaru's computer screen was glowing. She had apparently forgotten to take it off before she left with Ami. "First lamps, now computers," Haruka mumbled, making her way in to shut off the device. As she reached for the power switch, the computer boomed, "You've got Mail." Haruka froze as onscreen she could see an E-Mail entitled: ADV: THEY CAN SEE EVERY MOVE YOU MAKE!! Haruka blinked and continued reading: >Do you think you are SAFE?? >Do you think you have PRIVACY?? >YOU are WRONG!! > >It's the INFORMATION AGE and >THEY can see every move YOU make >Your life is an OPEN BOOK!! > >You need PROTECTION!! > >For only ¥38,000-- Haruka snorted and deleted the message. "Stupid ad," she muttered. But as she stared at the computer screen, she took pause. She did not fully understand the Internet and all its associated technologies* *She, like Michiru, knew enough to look suave and sophisticated in a public setting, where computers are notoriously easy to gain entrance into and vital information is always a mere six keystrokes away from the user. and Ten'ou Haruka never trusted something she could not fully understand. Doubt remained. Loading up a web browser, Haruka found a search engine and typed in her name. With no small measure of pride, she watched as Google reported 2,380 hits. No doubt pages established by her legion of devoted racing fans (who had finally come to terms with the fact she was a woman), or the small but rabidly fanatic group of fans of her concert piano playing. Haruka, like anyone, appreciated being praised. So she clicked on a link at random, and prepared for an onslaught of fanatical adulation. What she got was a post to USENET entitled "Haruka and Michiru: Secrets." Haruka was in shock. Her command of English was perfect* *partly because of her constant world travel and partly because of the Absolute Perfection field given unto her by Kuniko Ikuhara and so she was able to appreciate every word in the document... every tawdry, salacious, suggestive, lewd and lascivious word.* *Haruka is reading a lemonfic, if you couldn't guess. Haruka's face turned beet red as she found herself drawn to paragraph after paragraph, like a speeder forced against her instincts to slow down in order to view the full gory details of a particularly grisly accident. But this fic was no accident, Haruka mused, finally looking away from the screen, her fists trembling with rage. Whoever had written this-- --Haruka looked at the top of the post-- --"NEFFY666@AOL.COM--* *My apologies if a real person with that E-Mail address exists --was far TOO accurate in their depictions of her nocturnal activities. Suddenly the E-mail she had read earlier made perfect sense. It had been a warning from some concerned citizen, telling her about the survelliance this "NEFFY666@AOL.COM" was carrying out on her house-- it HAD to be! Haruka fumed. She regretted having deleted the E-Mail... she would have liked to interroga...err, congratulate whoever it was that had sent her the warning. "How can I find out who's watching me?" Haruka mused to herself. She hit the "back" button on her browser and watched as a popup ad presented itself. "GET THE BESTSELLING WIRELESS COLOR VIDEO CAMERA!" its text screamed. "That sucker's TINY," Haruka thought. "Perfect for watching the watchers." Navigating to the X-10 homepage, Haruka quickly placed an order for 50 cameras, setting the family's plan to save up for a bigger house back by two years. "But they won't get here in time," Haruka said to herself, scowling. Her need for vengeance was brutal, visceral, and needed immediate satisfaction. "Besides, I don't know who's watching me..." Haruka fretted, turning her head towards the window. "--the hell.." she muttered under her breath, seeing what looked to be Nephlite staring back at her through large high-powered binoculars. "NEFFY666..." Haruka scowled. "Nephlite... of course." In a blind rage, Haruka made her way to a search engine. "The press keeps saying the Internet is a hotbed of criminal activity that promotes social mayhem. Let's see how right they are." Typing in "send a car to hell" she sat back and watched as 293 search results poured in. A few minutes later, and with an evil glint in her eye, Haruka hit "print", grabbed the resultant printout and made her way downstairs, forgetting all about her supposedly broken leg. THE STAIRWELL Michiru made her way up the stairs slowly, carrying a veiled canvas. She paused and flattened herself against the far wall as Haruka stormed past, clutching a sheaf of papers in her hand. "Where are you going?" Michiru asked curiously. "Store," Haruka grunted. "Could you pick up some milk--" Michiru began. "Not that kind of store," Haruka muttered, making her way to the foot of the stairs and towards the front door. Michiru shrugged and continued upstairs, going to her room and depositing her work in progress. Afterwards, she headed for Hotaru's room. "I wonder what Haruka was researching," Michiru asked herself idly. She pressed the "history" button and noted a search for "Ten'ou Haruka". "What an egotist she is," Michiru said self-righteously as she entered her own name into the search engine. She smiled as she saw 2,310 hits. She would have frowned had she known Haruka's result had been higher. Michiru clicked on a link and saw a badly scanned photo of one of her paintings, underneath which there was a typically glowing review. "This painting now available for sale on eBay!" the end of the review proudly proclaimed. "What's an eBay?" Michiru asked herself. "Probably some elite arthouse." Most things with the word "Bay" in them tended to be elite, or at least faux elite, anyway, which was good enough. She clicked on the link to eBay experimentally. The same picture as before appeared, with the following text underneath: "'BENEATH THE SEA' by Kaio Mitcheroo. this is like a really profoud peace painted by that totally cool genuis concert painist KAioo Mitchitu." Michiru's left eye began to twitch involuntarily. "Tere are perspectives and waves that are done perflectly like a daVinci or microangelo." Michiru smiled a bit at the imperfect sentiment. "Worth a lot of $$$ CASH i got it from my mum as a stupid graduation present." The twitch in Michiru's left eye returned, stronger now. "Looks out of place enxt to my ANDY WARHOL stuff so I need to sell it FAST FAST! GREAT INVESTMENT!" "Andy War--- that HACK!" Michiru's face went blue as blood left her face at the comparision of her talented, sensitive masterwork to that... soup can painting, populist low-talent. Michiru, now seeing red, clicked on "see current bids" to see how much her lovely painting was selling for. "THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS, reserve NOT MET?!" Michiru fought down the urge to scream. Dignified daughters of the house of Kaioh did not scream in an unladylike fashion. But her was one of her paintings-- a labour of love, a testament to her genius, her CHILD-- being sold for less than a TENTH of its actual value. "I'll just see about that," Michiru muttered, entering a bid for three thousand dollars. Now, she thought, now they would begin to see the true value of her work, and others would be sure to bid higher in an effort to secure a part of her masterful corpus. She dimly knew that if no one did up the bid, she'd have to pay, but the chances of that happening were unthinkable. She hit refresh. There were no new bids. Unthinkable. ONE HOUR AND SIXTY REFRESHES LATER. There were no new bids. Absolutely unthinkable. TWO HOURS AND NINETY REFRESHES LATER. No new bids. Ridiculously unthinkable. Michiru's brow creased and she wrinkled her nose trying to figure out what was going wrong. She looked up the profile of the person selling her painting, hoping to send her an E-mail chastising the person for treating her artwork like any OTHER piece of paint and canvas... and noted a reference to the person's "blog." "Blog?" Michiru asked herself as she clicked. She found an online personal journal, where the details of the journal owner's life were cataloged in almost painful detail. "A place where people post every detail of their lives. But these lives are so boring," Michiru said, sighing. "They need insight into the life of someone fresh, dynamic, personable and filled with a deep insight into the world." Michiru quickly registered herself a weblog and began typing furiously. Soon the world would know and appreciate the grace and beauty that characterized the everyday existence of Kaioh Michiru. ACT TWO - CROSSING THE LINE OUTSIDE Dressed in an all-black jumpsuit and gloves, Haruka made her way quietly to the back of the house, arms loaded with supplies picked up at the hardware and office supply store. Sneaking to a hole in the fence which separated her house from Nephlite's abode, Haruka slipped across the property line. Taking one last look at the papers she had printed out earlier, Haruka committed the notes to memory. Crumpling up the paper into a ball, she swallowed it grimly. The die had been cast, the gauntlet had been thrown down, the cards were on the table and the s**t had hit the fan. She was committed to the path. Crouching, she skulked over past Nephlite's decrepit Volkswagen Thing and made her way towards his sleek red Ferarri. She produced her supplies and recalled her instructions, as provided by someone called "Jolly Roger". >How to have phun with someone else's car. Nephlite's car, Haruka noted with dark satisfaction. >If you really detest someone, and I mean detest, Haruka mentally pictured a decapitated Nephlite roasting alive over a pit of boiling oil covered in honey and being set into by hungry ants while vultures picked at his flesh from above. >here's a few tips on what to do in your spare time. Haruka looked at her watch and nodded. Then she followed the directions, ran out of the yard and sat back to watch the chaos when Nephlite got to the car. A FEW HOURS LATER Hotaru waved as Ami left, making for the bus stop. They had spent hours discussion child psychology and advanced Freudian analytical techniques, with a focus on species other than homo sapiens sapiens. It had not been the most appetizing discussion to have over ice cream and coffee cake, but it had given Hotaru some useful strategies to employ on Chibiusa when the time was right. Tucking her new copy of "'ANIMAL ATTRACTION' IS NOT TO BE TAKEN LITERALLY" in her pocketbook, Hotaru saw Haruka sitting on the front steps, staring intently at Nephlite's Ferarri across the way. "Haruka-poppa--" Hotaru began. "Not NOW!" Haruka hissed, her eagle eyes locked onto Nephlite, who was coming out of his front door with Naru hanging off his side. She was saying something to him, but Haruka could not hear it. "Sorry about it not going well, honey muffin!" Naru screeched in her Deep South Brooklyn Bronx accent. "Feh," Nephlite replied. "Stupid defective binoculars. Still, it's just as well as it would be a source of constant ridicule if anyone knew that a former King of the Dark Kingdom was occupied in as menial a pursuit as... birdwatching." "That's it," Haruka muttered under her breath as she watched Neplite pry Naru off of him and make for the Ferarri. "Go to your doom, you perverted jerk." Nephlite seemed to sense Haruka's gaze and looked back at her. "Taking fashion tips from the whelp I see," Nephlite boomed as he noted Haruka's all-black outfit. "Whelp?" Hotaru hissed angrily. But privately she was more incensed with Nephlite's comparing her to Haruka. "I meant no offense," Nephlite boomed. "Don't go goth on me and wreck the world in your rage, eh, Saturn-chan?" Hotaru clenched her fist. Sometimes she wished homicide wasn't so socially disfavoured. She prayed to the Kami that the self-righteous fool would be chastised ere long. As Nephite got into his car, Haruka worked hard to suppress a chuckle, her mind recalling the text from the anarchist's cookbook. >Remove his [OMITTED BY XADIUM FOR PUBLIC SAFETY] and pour approximately 1 >Cup of gas in it. Put the [OMITTED LIKE THEY DO IN MACGYVER] back, then >wait till their car starts. Haruka watched as Nephlite started the car and it became > a cigarette lighter. A 30 foot long cigarette lighter. As the back of the car exploded, Hotaru blanched and frantically told Kami she had not meant for it to go THAT far. Haruka merely chuckled darkly. In a panic, Nephlite scrambled to get out, his arm hitting the windshield wiper lever. A loud scratching noise could he heard FLASHBACK >Move the windshield wiper blades, and insert glue tacks. END FLASHBACK and Nephlite watched in disbelief as >The tacks make lovely designs. Crawling out of his car, Nephlite started at Haruka, who was now laughing uncontrollably. As his car exploded behind him, Nephlite's eyes glowed red. "This is payback for that race I beat you in last week, ISN'T IT?!" He roared. "Well FINE, Ten'ou! If you want a war, you've GOT a WAR! This isn't over, not by a long shot! THIS ISN'T OVER!" Shaking his fist in fury at Haruka, Nephlite went back inside to plan his counterattack. "Haruka-poppa, did you--" Hotaru asked, in her heart already knowing the answer. Haruka raised her hand in a silencing motion. "You're too young to understand certain things, Hotaru-chan." Hotaru frowned. "I'm at my proper age. I'm not that much younger than you, and I daresay my understanding of things is vastly superior--"* *For my fics I put the other Outers at 5 years ahead of Hotaru, (save Setsuna who's like ten ZILLION times older) and 3 ahead of the Inners. "That's what he gets for peeping in on private things,"* *I suppose you could say "All the Old Lemons are True" Haruka said with satisfaction, getting up and walking in the house. Hotaru shrugged and made her way inside as a very distressed-looking Chibiusa made her way outside. "Chibiusa-chan," Hotaru began, intending to show her the new book she had bought with Ami, but she changed her mind as she looked at the worried child's face. "What's wrong?" "Puu," Chibiusa began slowly. "She just won't stop laughing." ACT THREE - FALLOUT Michiru dazedly made her way downstairs, not even hearing Setsuna's increasingly deranged laughter as she worried about how to break the news to Haruka that she had just landed the family three thousand dollars in debt for one of her own paintings. Idly she wondered if she hadn't been too candid in her blog, but that was the least of her worries. Hotaru, for her part, stared at her computer screen in complete and utter shock. Michiru-mama had failed to navigate away from her page, and her blog entry was there for her (and, Hotaru thought miserably, the world) to see. Numbly, she re-read the page, hoping that perhaps her eyes had decieved. "...and the circumstances I have to live in. Take Setsuna. She's supposed to be this wise woman. But all she is an old, bitter crone who delights in playing with my life like I was just some kind of tinker toy. She has no boyfriend, because of her job (she's a kind of security guard, you might say) so she takes delight in confusing us with riddles and playing us like puppets or, more apropos, pawns. She never stays around to help in household affairs, and she always acts so Holier-than-thou! Honestly, just because she's an ancient crone doesn't mean she has the right to judge me. She hasn't got an inkling of the depth of my thoughts or the delicate sensibilities of my genius. "And speaking of that, there's Haruka, the one I love. She's a philistine I tell you-- a real Philistine. Certainly she has her redeeming points-- her loyalty and protectiveness for instance-- but she's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. If it's not sports like wrestling or racing or running, or beer or mechanical nonsense, don't expect her to be able to hold a prolonged conversation. She's got a nasty temper and a short attention span, and she can only ever 'get' a third of the depth in my works. It's a miracle this woman ever managed to master the piano like she has-- I'm sure it's a recessive gene or something. And don't get me started on her *clothing*-- my friend Mamoru (a man) borrows *her* clothes sometimes. "You'd think Hotaru would be my salvation, as she let me teach her the violin and she has more than half a brain on her head and she is somehwat perceptive. But no! This girl is the very definition of the word 'repressed'. Sitting alone in a room that she would prefer darkened, wearing nothing but all black and reading about history, mythology, poetry and apocalptic mystery, you'd think she was studying to be a medieval monk or something! And sanctimonius-- she personifies that. She holds a grudge and thinks that just because Haruka and I have made or one or two slight errors in judgement in the past regarding her that we're somehow flawed individuals. Well I have a friend named Kuniko who could tell her otherwise. I tell you, it's no surprise this girl has no friends. Talking down to everyone and constantly acting precocious- it's all I can do to avoid going mad. If talking with Haruka is like trying to pleasantly converse with a high school jock, then talking to Hotaru is like talking to the head nun of a Catholic School-- lots of fire and brimstone. I won't even start going on about Usagi and her friends-- If this were Dragonball Z, Hotaru would have been kicking up a huge ki storm. As it was, her eyes were glowing purple, the sigil of Saturn was on her forehead and the silence glaive was phasing in and out of existence in Hotaru's left hand-- and she wasn't even transformed. Supreme self-control asserted itself, and Hotaru slammed the left mouse button, clicking on "print". She then deleted the web copy of the blog. Putting the sheaf of papers in a safe place, Hotaru smiled tautly. "Fire and Brimstone, eh? All in the fullness of time. In the fullness of Time." Speaking of time-- Setsuna's maniacal laughter climaxed at a deafening roar and then fell deathly silent. SETSUNA'S ROOM Setsuna stood stiffly, regarding herself in the mirror. She had spent thousands of years of her life ensuring the proper flow of time. She had dedicated herself to making sure that the future of Crystal Tokyo and of Chibiusa was preserved and protected. She had suffered from afar as the eternal romance between Princess Serentity / Tsukino Usagi / Neo-Queen Serenity and Prince Endymion / Chiba Mamoru / King Endymion grew, never confessing her own feelings for the prince of the Earth. She had resigned herself to a life of suffering in solitude. But the last few hours had taught her some things. One - Chibiusa was an annoying little brat. In the past, Setsuna's dealings with Chibiusa had been brief fifteen or twenty minute conversations in between official palace functions or when the child was in conflict with her parents. They had been welcome breaks from the eternal tedium of the Time Gate. But spending hours with her now, with no duties to return to, and having to hear constantly about her boyfriend Elios (a.k.a. Mr. Ed) and having to cater to her every spoilt whim had taught Setsuna that Small Lady WAS a spore begging to be crushed. Two - She was a free woman. Having been fired by Neo-Queen Serenity, she was no longer in control of or responsible for monitoring the proper flow of time; indeed, she could do nothing about it even if she wanted to. This led to what had been the most shocking [and catharctic] conclusion of all: Three - Chiba Mamoru was fair game. Sure it was a "miracle romance". But keeping Usagi and Mamoru together had the following consequences: 1- The world would freeze. 2- Chibiusa would be born. 3- Setsuna would be a nigh-immortal spinster. None of these were acceptable, and now that Future Serenity had been so kind as to discharge her from duty, she was FREE to do what she wanted... GET what she wanted, and damn the consequences because, after all, it wasn't her job anymore to worry about them! A sick grin spread across Setsuna's usually stolid face and a bit of rabid foam dripped from the corner of her mouth. DOWNSTAIRS "I don't understand, Haruka," Michiru asked confusedly. "Why did you order FIFTY wireless cameras?! You know how strapped we are for funds! We won't even be able to afford McDonald's at this rate!" "I have a broken leg?" Haruka countered weakly pointing to her re-attached cast. "I passed you going down the stairs without it, BAKA." Michiru snapped. Haruka scowled. "Why don't you tell Haruka-poppa about the painting you bought," Hotaru said smoothly. Her investigation of the browser cache had been most useful. She would have to thank Ami for teaching her that trick. Michiru fell silent. "What painting?" Haruka asked, smelling blood. "Oh, just the one for three THOUSAND dollars." Hotaru said with glib satisfaction. Haruka's face went blue. "How much?" "It'a real Michiru original," Hotaru concluded almost gleefully. "WHAT?!" Haruka almost went postal. "You PAID for one of your OWN works? You can just make more! You churn them out like dollar store ornaments!" "You don't undersand my artistic suffering!" Michiru cried, storming out. There was a loud BOOM from the front lawn as Haruka's lawnmower exploded. "What the HELL?!" Haruka made for the window. "I expect that's just Nephlite taking revenge for you blowing up his car for no reason," Hotaru said as neutrally as she could. "What do you mean, 'no reason'?" Haruka asked weakly. Hotaru shook her head. "In actuality, NEFFY666 is a pimple-faced socially deprived nerd with dreams of writing the ultimate Utena-Anthy-Haruka- Michiru-Lain-Key hentai lemon, currently living in a trailer somewhere in Manitoba Canada. He or she has no connection to Nephlite whatsover." Haruka looked outside at the flaming lawnmower and slapped her face. She winced as Nephlite yelled out "and this is just the beginning, Ten'ou! You hear me?! The BEGINNING! You thought the Sailor Wars were tough, biatch?! Now you've thrown it down with the Nephlite!"* *Dub Naru's slang is rubbing off on him. Haruka groaned. She was so out of it that she completely missed Setsuna bounding down the stairs, a look of ecstatic joy on her face. Running out the door, Setsuna stood in front of the flaming lawnmower, casually batting Nephlite aside like a fly. Looking up at the sky, she stretched out her arms. "CHIBA MAMORU!" she yelled. "SOON YOU WILL BE MINE!" FADE OUT PREVIEW OF NEXT EPISODE Chibiusa, you say you don't like your Mamo-chan anymore? You say you've got a good thing going with Horsey-boy? Well look out, because Auntie Setsuna is going to change your mind! But Hotaru has other ideas! She's siding WITH Pegasus? What is Usagi going to say about all this? And what is Michiru doing in that Kitchen?! Haruka, play nice with Nephlite! And why is [BLEEP] here? You know who I mean, [BLEEP]! Next time, on Suburban Senshi, Episode Three: "There's something about Mamo-chan!" You better get ready!