THE HAPLESS URANUS IN LOVE
	--------------------------

A fic by Cass to her absolutely , positively wonderful pal, GSL, who is 
suffering from LOHMF (Lack Of Haruka & Michiru Fics).  

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

Flames will be used to warm up my freezing toes.

ALERT!  If reading about two females having a romantic relationship freaks you 
out, read no further.

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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