Title: From Across The Room
Part 15: December Surprise
Rating: PG-13 
Author: Alsepang
E-mail: alsepang@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I do not speak Japanese. I do not claim to 
be Naoko Takeuchi, or any company holding distribution 
and other rights to Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon. I am 
not deliberately making use of the characters in said 
anime/manga to earn profits. For goodness' sake, I'm 
not getting anything. This story is not being sold or 
used to gain profit in any sense, nor should anyone use
this story for such ends. 

AN: This is the final part. Finis. I refuse to write
    anymore of this story. It's takin' up too much space.
    I leave the rest to your imagination. *Alse folds her
    arms* Besides, I want to write other stories!!!

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

*December Surprise*


         I saw him from across the room.

         It was the day after the incident in town 
and I was sitting in a corner, curled up amidst the 
cushions on the couch. Mina, Raye, Amy and Lita were
with me, and we were chattering at the top of our 
voices. At least, they were doing the talking. I was 
just sitting there, my eyes resting on the scene
outside the windows. Outside, the snow was falling 
lazily, drifting down in soft white flakes, and it 
looked, for all the world, like a fairytale Christmas
card. Christmas would be here in a couple of days. I 
was going home on the eleven o' clock morning flight 
the next day and I should have been finishing some 
last-minute packing, but I wanted to sit in the 
company of my friends and bask quietly in the glow. 

         I didn't want to be alone. 

         I hugged one of the cushions more closely
to myself. I hadn't seen him since the night before. 
They had taken me to the hospital, sirens wailing 
and all, although I didn't think I was in that 
critical a condition. Oddly enough, my friends had
allowed him to ride in the ambulance, causing me no
small amount of discomfort.  I was just lying down 
there, perfectly conscious except for the rather 
painful feeling and throbbing rhythm in my head.
Right next to me was the source of my major 
discomfort as I lay in an agony of blushes whilst
he held my hand. He didn't say anything very much, 
but I had a terrible time keeping my eyes fixed 
elsewhere while my cheeks grew steadily redder as
I felt his gaze rest unyieldingly on my face. Worse
still, the ambulance personnel attending to me kept
making embarrassing statements in matter-of-fact 
tones.

         "You're such a loving couple." 

         "Don't worry, she'll be fine."

         "You're lucky to have such a caring 
husband."

         This last statement made me choke right 
away and my eyes connected unwillingly with his. 
He too was scarlet, but I caught a tiny smile 
playing at the corners of his mouth and my heart
skipped a few beats. He was just so adorable with
that look on his face. 

         "He's not my-- my, uh, husband," I 
mumbled, wishing that the floor would just 
open up and dump me on to the road beneath. 
For goodness' sake, neither of us was wearing
a ring! At least, I wasn't. I tried to sneak
a look at his hand out of the corner of my eye, 
but the very angle at which we were positioned 
made it impossible to do so.

         "Oh!" My torturer, however, was not 
finished. She just smiled blandly at us. "So, 
when do you plan to ask your girlfriend to 
marry you?" 

         Thankfully, the ambulance drove up to 
the hospital just then, but I caught his soft 
reply and had a feeling that he had meant it 
for my ears alone.

         "Someday, I hope..."

         He had stayed with me for the next four 
hours as the doctors stitched up the small cut I
had sustained, and bandaged it. He had then sat 
by my side in the car while Raye drove us back.
We hadn't exchanged a single word the whole time,
but he was someone comforting, someone I had drawn 
strength from, and in whose presence I felt completely 
protected.  I left him on the steps of the building 
as Molly, Mina, Lita and Amy gently ushered me away. 
Thinking back, I suppose that Raye must have driven 
him back. I just wished I had had the courage the 
night before to open my mouth and thank him. As it 
was, I still hadn't spoken to him.

         Mina's bright, cheery voice broke into 
my reverie. "Serena!"

         I looked up. "Huh?" I murmured.

         Mina fidgeted a little and twirled some 
hair around her fingers. "I, uh, I forgot that I
left my album in your room. You know, the one I 
was showing you guys ages ago. I think it might
be in your room, 'cause I can't find it anywhere.
I want to show it to Kunzite. He's coming in this
evening...could you look in your room?" She opened 
her blue eyes very wide and beseechingly.

         I shrugged my shoulders. "Now? Okay." 
I got up and headed for my room, throwing a few
words over my shoulder. "See you guys later." 

         As I climbed the stairs wearily, I 
reflected that I couldn't recall seeing Mina's
album anywhere in my room. Well, I could always
finish up my packing. There wasn't much left to do.

         There had been no light under my door, 
so I was completely unprepared for the sight 
that met my eyes when I pushed the door open 
in my usual quiet fashion. My eyes widened.

         A dark figure sat on the edge of my bed, 
his head in his hands, and he jerked his head up 
in startled surprise to stare at me. 

         "Darien?" His name was on my lips before 
I could take it back. I stood stock still, fingers 
still curled around the doorknob. I could hardly 
believe my eyes. I had been thinking-- *dreaming*--of
him all day, and here he was, practically on my doorstep! 

         He stood up, and in the faint light 
coming in from the corridor and through the 
windows, I could see that he was blushing
slightly. He half-gestured, then let his 
hand fall to his side.

         "Your friends said you were leaving 
tomorrow. I just thought I'd drop by and give 
you something. I mean, it's--" he paused almost 
shyly. "It's Christmas..."  

         I followed his glance and saw the large 
package sitting innocuously on my desk. Next to 
it was a large bouquet of beautiful crimson roses
and baby's breath. My mouth dropped open.

        "Don't say anything. Just keep it. It 
doesn't--" He broke off and fell silent.

        I met his eyes and held his gaze for a 
long moment. What had he been going to say? 'It 
doesn't mean anything'?
        
        "There's something else," he added rather
uncomfortably. He held out a small box, about two
inches thick, and secured with a small lock.

        I blanched, recognising it, and my hands
clenched into small fists, my eyes darting wildly 
to my bed and then to the floor. My heart gave a
shriek of rage and helplessness. My letters...my 
replies ...the ones I had never sent...*Dear God, 
not again, please don't tell me...I am going to 
commit murder very soon...* 

       How could they have done this to me?
        
       "I haven't looked into it," I heard him 
say, very gently. "I thought that you would not
want your privacy invaded." 

        How much did he know? And who, amongst
all my %&*%$#@ ex-friends had come up with that
@#$%^&* idea to GIVE HIM MY PRIVATE LETTERS? I
trembled, half with fury, half with shame, and
tried desperately to keep my balance.   

        "I guess I'd better go now," he said 
quietly, his eyes still fixed on me. I jerked 
my head up, still scarlet and hardly daring to
meet his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Serena." He 
reached the door and made as if to move past me,
but I laid a hand on his arm. He stopped and 
turned slightly so that he was facing me, his 
head tilted towards mine.

        "I haven't thanked you." I spoke quickly, 
the words tumbling out of my trembling mouth as I 
spoke directly to his thick sweater. I was going 
to do this now, even if it killed me. "For yesterday, 
for staying with me..." I kept my eyes on his sweater. 
"For, um, for...everything..."

        I could feel his warm breath on my hair 
and his hand closed tightly over mine as I ducked 
my head even lower. "It isn't anything much, angel, 
and I hope you won't be disappointed. I hope you'll 
have a good Christmas, that's all..."

        His voice trailed off and I swallowed my 
tears, my fingers tightening on his arm. It was now 
or never. I repeated the words over and over again 
mentally, then raised my head and looked into his 
face-- and lost my head. I felt like a deer caught
in headlights as he looked down at me, beautiful 
dark blue eyes so soft and deep that I melted under 
their gaze. His mouth was only a hair's breadth from 
mine and I gave myself up for lost.
 
         I reached up, took his surprised face 
between my hands, brought it down gently and 
then kissed him softly and a little shakily on
the mouth. I felt rather than heard his quick 
intake of breath. Then he kissed me right back, 
crushing his lips to mine, his arms sliding 
around my waist and back to pull me even more 
closely to him. It was a soft, tender touch at 
first meeting, but the moment his mouth was 
brought down on mine, there was more than mere 
love and tenderness-- there was an ardour and 
a fire that seemed to blaze in the kiss, springing 
from nowhere. And then it wasn't just one kiss; 
it was a marathon of a kiss as I twisted my body 
slightly under the overwhelming onslaught, leaning 
back against the door frame for additional support.

          I kissed him with everything I had in me, 
with a determination I hadn't known I possessed, 
with all the love and passion and pain that I had 
kept bottled within me. I felt tears behind my closed 
lids and threaten to spill, but I couldn't care less. 
He responded in kind, but there was gentleness in the 
midst of everything, even as his tongue ran teasing 
circles in my mouth, even as he poured his own passion
into the kiss. In his kiss, in that tenderness, I felt 
his love, his joy, his passion, his desperation, his 
very nature-- I felt *him*.

         We finally broke apart for breath, 
gasping as we took in air in ragged spurts. 
I was nestled somewhere in his arms, my face
buried in his coat, my arms still clinging to 
his neck. He turned my face to his and I caught 
a gleam in his eyes, darker than I had ever seen
them. He opened his mouth to speak, but we were 
interrupted by catcalls, piercing whistles, and 
whoops from behind us.

        "Whoo-hoo! Ooooh, yeah..."

        "All right!"

        "I'm gonna gag..."

        "Va-va-va-voom!"

        "Is it just me, or did the mercury just go 
up by, like, a few hundred degrees?"

        "You mean, a few THOUSAND degrees. *Please*
get a room, you two! Or did you not notice the one
behind you?"

        "Does anyone here have a camera? Hopefully 
a video camera so we can blackmail them with the film 
afterwards?" 

        "Awwwww..."

        "Oh, it's so sweet...pass the tissues, thanks..."

        "Aha! Aha! Aha! I knew it! I knew it! It's all 
thanks to me!"

        "Gimme a five! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"

        Great. We had forgotten about open doors and 
public corridors and had collected an audience.  I 
could feel my cheeks burn, the rush of heat scalding 
even my forehead and collarbone. 

        "This isn't exactly a private place," I 
mumbled. I glanced up at him and saw that he was 
smiling gently, a twinkle in his eyes.

        Looking up into his face, suddenly I was 
alone in the world with him-- we were together, 
and alone-- and nothing could touch us.  I knew 
then, and felt a huge smile burst out on my face, 
and had to strain my muscles to keep it from being 
a little too embarrassingly bright.

        "I love you."

        "I know."

        He had said those three little words once 
before and I hadn't believed him. He didn't need 
to say them now, because it was my turn. And there 
was one last thing I still wanted to say-- the words 
I'd been about to speak before looking at him had 
forced them to fly out of my poor, emotionally-overpowered 
mind, leaving me to initiate a kiss instead. 

        "I was wondering," I began shyly, "if-- um--"

        "Okay."

        I stared at him, bewildered. "Huh? You 
don't know what I'm asking, do you?"

        He grinned. "No, but I know I'm going 
to agree with you, whatever it is. I don't 
think I could do anything else right now." 
He smoothed the stray strands of hair back 
from my face.

        "Oh." I hooked my fingers in his collar 
absently. "Well, I was thinking-- would you like 
to come spend Christmas with me-- with my family? 
I know it's a bit of a rush-- I'm leaving tomorrow 
morning, at eleven, but..."

         Dark blue eyes glowed. Warm fingers, 
divested of gloves, reached up and trailed 
themselves almost lazily over my lips, 
effectively silencing me. There was an 
almost disbelieving amazement in his 
features, a startled joy, and somewhere 
inside me, I felt a twist of sadness. 

         A flush burned deeply into his 
cheeks. "With you?" he asked softly.

         I nodded. "And my family..." I whispered, 
peeking up anxiously at him. Perhaps he didn't like 
the idea very much?

         A smile like a sunburst broke across his 
handsome face and I felt my own spirits rise. Perhaps 
he didn't mind the idea very much?

         "You darling," he breathed, and kissed me again.

         I decided to ignore the party and flashbulbs
going on around us. 


(c) Copyright 2001 original storyline 
created by Alsepang

 
Did you know?

Disney's Mulan...well, call me a prude, but it's
too cartooney. Let me explain.

Hua Mulan is a legend, because stories about her
have never been recorded. There is no written 
record of her exploits. Disney's Mulan calls her
Fa Mulan. No way. 'Hua' means 'flower' and 'mulan'
is a type of flower. Nowhere is she named 'Fa'. (If
that's the bopomofo translation, I'm sorry, but I
much prefer the hanyu pinyin translation.)

For those who don't know, Hua Mulan was a girl who
took her ailing father's place when the army draft came
to send him into battle on the frontiers against the
invaders from the north. She disguised herself as a 
man and legend has it that she served twelve years and
distinguished herself militarily.

No one is sure just when the real Hua Mulan lived. 
However, there were already stories in China's Central 
Plains about such a brave girl, who took her father's 
place in the army. Some stories say that she lived in 
the time of the Sui Dynasty, which was later succeeded 
by the Tang Dynasty. Some say that she lived in the time
of the Six Dynasties, just before the Sui Dynasty. What 
is certain is that she lived before the Tang Dynasty. 

The legends of her battles are many, but they all end the
same way. Hua Mulan chose to return home to her family to
take care of her sick father, rather than serve in the
imperial court. She had already been away for twelve years.
Her comrades, as was customary, decided to see her to her
village. They then discovered that she was actually
a woman.

There the stories end. Hua Mulan's legend says nothing about
the girl as a woman, or if she ever married. 

It is said that when word reached the palace that she was
actually a woman, and quite a pretty one to boot, the emperor
decided that he wanted her as his concubine. One version says
that she refused and hung herself instead, whereupon the 
emperor ordered her to be interred with special honours. I
do not believe that version.

The other version says that she killed herself with her sword
and the angry emperor promptly had all record of her achievements
deleted. Personally, I think it neatly explains why all the world
knows of Hua Mulan but nobody knows why history lacks records
of her military exploits. Besides, the emperor concerned was 
the second (and last) emperor of the Sui Dynasty, a noted
tyrant.

In China, there are temples to Hua Mulan, just as there are
temples to other great heroes, whose honour and courage
rocked Chinese history. The earliest temple was built early in
the Tang Dynasty, which means Mulan lived before then.

During the Song Dynasty, a poet turned Mulan's story into
an opera and called in the Ballad of Mulan. I think that's
where people started wondering if she was real, or merely
a story. After all, there were no written records of her,
not in China's official history books. 

I want to believe that she lived a long and happy life. I
don't know...there are no descendants today, so perhaps
that's all she'll ever be...a legend. I like to think
she's real, because she was so brave and so brilliant.


Alse speaks: If anyone has intriguing tales, send 'em
to me! Hopefully, my other stories will continue this
tradition of 'Did you know'.