The party was loud, airless and claustrophobic. In other words, it was a great party. Karaoke had been downright hysterical – everyone was amazed that Haruka and Michiru sang so beautifully together (and irritated as well. There didn’t seem to be anything that they couldn’t do.) Setsuna had, unsuccessfully, tried to beg off her turn, but when pressed had sung an odd, keening piece in a foreign language, just to teach them all a lesson.
When she stopped (at last!) Makoto quipped that she should have sung “Time in a Bottle” and Minako slapped her, but then Rei had to add “or As Time Goes By,” which made Usagi slap her. About the time the slap fight began to include Chibi-Usa, Ami decided to take a walk and get some fresh air.
A walk to the washroom, then a slow meander through the halls of the large house, was just the thing to soothe the pounding in her head. Ami noted the impeccable décor, the photos on the walls, and the tall palladium windows in the dining room looking out over the property. For all that it was a large house, one would never feel alone here, Ami thought, too many signs of an active family life. She smiled, too, as she wondered what the neighbors thought of the odd family who lived there.
Her thoughts, which had rambled along with her steps, came to a crashing halt as she came along the hallway that led to the older women’s bedrooms. Staring fixedly at a door before her, Minako was standing in the hallway. She appeared to be in a fugue state, or possibly catatonic, she was so still.
Ami choked back a startled cry, and was about to ask Minako what she was doing, when the blonde waved her closer. She approached, rather forebodingly, as Minako preemptively shushed her.
“Did you ever wonder,” Minako began, her as tones hushed as if they stood before a scared shrine, “what Haruka and Michiru’s bedroom looked like?”
“Not really…” Ami began, but was shushed once more. As if hypnotized, Minako reached out with one hand and gave the door a light push. Before Ami could stop her, she had opened the door, and pulled the blue-haired woman in with her. The door closed behind them quietly and Ami found herself standing in the middle of a large, brightly lit room. A rich, blue carpet rose up in waves to meet her, while lacy curtains blew slightly in the evening breeze.
Despite her reservations, Ami found herself looking around at the various pieces of furniture and decorations. One low, long dresser, where Minako already stood picking up various items and replacing them; one tall dresser, with photos; two closets; nightstands. Rather normal, except that she would have assumed they’d have a Japanese style room, rather than this very Western one. Funny she hadn’t ever really thought about it before, but Haruka and Michiru seemed so very…traditional… a couple, even if they were both women.
Turning towards the tall dresser, Ami determined with a quick glance, that it must be Haruka’s. The photos on the top showed the tall, blonde, racecar driver with a variety of famous, and not-so-famous people. Money clip, sunglasses, loose change in a hand-made ceramic bowl (probably made by Hotaru) and odds and ends that gather on such surfaces completed the picture. Ami turned to watch Minako who was sniffing at various bottles and setting them down. Ami blushed as Minako reached down and actually opened a drawer, but was unable to cross the room fast enough to prevent her.
“What are you *doing*?” Ami hissed, as she leapt the last few steps and shut the drawer firmly. Minako pulled her hand away to avoid getting it stuck in the closed drawer and looked at her friend with a slightly intoxicated determination.
“I wasn’t going to remove anything! I just wondered what Michiru…” Minako giggled and Ami interrupted, more than a little mortified.
“What? What kind of underwear she wears? Minako, we have to leave now – you’ve seen their room…” but the blonde had spun away and was now heading towards one of the closets.
“You look in the other one.” Minako ordered. Ami shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound. She wished she had had a few more drinks; maybe they would have helped make sense of this exercise in stupidity. In a moment of petulance, Ami wondered if Minako had ever gone through *her* drawers on one her of her visits to the apartment. With a yank, the closet opened to reveal ranks upon ranks of beautiful dresses, casual clothes and even a few bits of evening wear. Minako’s “Aha!” drew Ami’s attention away quickly.
“I knew it!” Minako picked up a pair of extremely expensive-looking leather pumps, and a high-heeled shoe that looked, if possible, even more refined and high-priced than the first pair. “I just knew that Michiru was a shoe-hound!” She chortled over her discovery until Ami cleared her throat delicately.
“Um, Minako – *this* is Michiru’s closet, I think.” She waved vaguely at the door whose handle she still held.
“Wha…?” Minako turned back to the clothes before her. She swept away the rows of casual pants and dresses, to reveal men’s evening wear…and several shelves of shoes. Boots, loafers, heels, pumps, they were all there and Minako gaped openly. “Hunh. Who would have thought? Haruka’s got a shoe fetish!”
Ami swept the clothes in front her away and saw much the same – casual clothes mixed in with more formal wear– and a modest single shelf with for shoes. And a neat rack with several objects that made Ami turn red in agonized embarrassment. She turned to mention this to Minako, but the blonde had disappeared! The closet door was closed, and she was nowhere to be seen.
“Minako?” Ami called, softly, then again. She was just thinking that Minako must have cut and run, when the closet door opened just enough to allow the blonde to poke her head out and wave at Ami.
“You have to smell it in here…” Minako took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. Ami closed Michiru’s closet door and walked over to Minako, determined to have the girl out of there and this room, if it took brute strength to do it. But as she crossed the room, a sound came from outside the room door and Ami practically jumped headfirst into the closet, joining Minako in the confined space. Ami wrenched the closet door closed, but Minako inserted a hand and stopped it before it shut them in. Ami was about to protest, but halted in mid-hiss when the bedroom door opened and Haruka and Michiru stood framed in the doorway.
Both girls held their breath. There really was no reasonable excuse for hiding in a closet in someone else’s room if they were caught. Ami’s lungs began to burn and she carefully drew in some air. Minako was right – the closet smelled wonderful.
The scene before her derailed Ami’s thoughts completely. Haruka and Michiru stood in the door, chatting pleasantly with some third party. Haruka wore a sports jacket; her hand was in one pants pocket while she leaned insouciantly in the doorframe. Michiru had on her party dress, and looked as impeccable as ever. As always, they exuded a quiet competence and intensity that Ami had admired from the beginning. Calm, cool and deliberate, Haruka and Michiru were often the solid core of their team – and everyone knew it. And they really made a lovely couple. So mature – they rarely made more than the slightest show of physical affection, but it was obvious to everyone how much they were in love. Standing for a moment, chatting, the two women made an excuse to whoever had accompanied them, and entered the room.
Ami had her hand poised to clamp over Minako’s mouth, but her action was unnecessary – the blonde seemed immobilized once again. The two women entered the room, smiled at each other, then closed the door behind them. In a blur of motion, Haruka put one hand on Michiru’s shoulder, then soundlessly spun her around and pushed her back against the door. Immediately the two women fused themselves together in a silent, but passionate, kiss. Ami found her hand muffling her own mouth as Haruka, who had her hands tightly on Michiru’s shoulders, moved one slowly down Michiru’s exposed neck and under the dress’s neckline. Michiru pressed herself against Haruka and the two girls could hear her moaning into Haruka’s mouth as the taller woman’s hand, presumably, found what she was looking for.
Ami was aware of a sharp pain in her arm and investigated it, only to find that it was Minako, gripping her arm so tightly she was in danger of drawing blood. Not wanting to make a noise Ami simply bore the discomfort, as the scene before them became even more intense. Haruka was now kissing Michiru’s neck and had her dress pulled down rather further over her shoulders than it was intended to go. The green-haired woman had one hand on Haruka’s back, scratching at it with her nails, while the other moved somewhere on Haruka’s front.
Ami heard a zipper, then a low groan torn from Haruka’s throat, then an even lower one from Minako’s. Ami finally clamped a hand over Minako’s mouth, but there was no point. Haruka and Michiru pulled away from each other sharply, kissed once again deeply – if not quite *as* deeply – then turned towards a mirror and straightened out their clothes. Facing each other, they assisted with the finishing touches on each other then, arm in arm, left the room as cool as they had entered.
For a long moment, neither of the two women in the closet spoke. When a solid, agonizing minute had passed and there was no sign of a return by the couple, Minako pushed the closet door open and they stumbled out, gasping for breath, panting in relief and excess of stimulation.
The two girls fell heavily onto the bed, sucking in lungfuls of air, and trying to calm their racing hearts. Ami could not get the scene they had just witnessed out of her head, seeing the two women over and over again as they moaned in raw desire. She wondered if she’d ever be able to look them in the eyes again.
Minako had rolled over and was laid out with her head on one of the pillows at the head of the bed. Ami was about to protest, but decided it wasn’t even worth it. She simply sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at the nightstand in front of her.
“Whose side are you on?” she asked, resignedly.
Minako sat up and frowned. “I’m not sure. There’s not much here. Trashy novel, alarm clock, coaster…how about you?”
Ami cataloged the items before her, “Trashy novel, coaster, box of tissues. No help there.”
“Wow – they both read trashy novels.” Minako said and lay back down on the bed. “This must be Haruka’s side – I bet she has to be in control of the alarm clock, don’t you?”
Ami lay next to her and stared at the ceiling. “Probably.” She could smell a faint scent coming from the pillows beneath her – lavender. “After all, she’s got that shoe fetish.”
There was a moment of silence as the two women lay there, then simultaneously they both broke out into peals of semi-hysterical laughter.
“Oh my god! Can you believe that?” Minako practically shrieked with delight. “No *wonder* they always look so calm and cool on the surface! They just slip back here for…” more giggles.
Ami was feeling more than a little giddy and more than a little flushed. She turned her head to watch Minako as the other woman rolled over on the bed and pressed her face into the pillow. Her long golden hair spilled across the bed and Ami found her hand moving to stroke it. Once again, she could see in her mind’s eye neatly manicured nails raking across a lean back.
“You know,” Ami commented to Minako’s hair, as the girl still had her face buried in the pillow and was, apparently, hyperventilating into it, “When you first showed up all those years ago, we all had case of hero worship. Like the way we all think about Haruka and Michiru now. It seems funny to think of it that way, but you were pretty cool.”
Minako looked at her friend with a grin. “Yeah, I was, wasn’t I?” She shielded herself from the pillow that was subsequently launched at her head. “OK, I take it back!”
Ami rolled over to face Minako and smiled at her. She took a strand of long, golden hair and began to play with it. “That was something, wasn’t it?” Ami’s voice was soft.
Nodding in understanding, Minako took Ami’s hand in her own. “I know what you mean…we never think of them like that do we? But, if you think of it – not that you would…”
“What do you mean by that?” Ami was more annoyed than she wanted to let on, but she couldn’t hide it. It wasn’t like she was some kind of nun or anything; she just had other priorities.
Minako held out her palms in a gesture of placation. “I didn’t mean it that way – it’s just that you always seem to have your mind somewhere else, not…”
“In the gutter, like yours?” Ami interrupted, a tad petulantly.
Minako grinned. “Yeah.” Staring just above Ami’s eyes, Minako reached out and pushed the hair out of her friend’s face. “You know…” she commented carefully as her hand lingered on Ami’s cheek. “I’ve always liked women with short hair.”
Ami grinned. “We know. Trust me – everyone knows.” She sighed and rolled over onto her back, once again noticing the scent that rose from the pillows beneath her head. “I’ve always liked women with long hair.”
The silence was prolonged enough to cause Ami to pause in her thoughts and look at her friend. Minako was staring at her, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“What?” This was the second time Minako had made her feel self-conscious about her thoughts.
“You like?” Minako shut her mouth with an audible snap. “You like…women with long hair?” She put her hand up to her mouth to mask her laugh, a move that was very unlike her, Ami thought. It made her look very feminine.
Something in Ami snapped. “C’mon!” she said and sat up, tugging Minako up with her. The blonde followed, a little puzzled.
Ami stood and half pulled, half-dragged Minako over to Michiru’s dresser. Putting one hand on Minako’s chest, she pressed the blonde back until her back was against the wall. Turning away, she leaned down to sample a few of the bottles as Minako had previously, until she found what she was looking for. When she stood upright once again, she found Minako leaning towards her, trying to see what she had in her hand. Ami pressed her back against the wall, a little more firmly.
“Stay.” Ami ordered, then spun away and crossed to Haruka’s closet. Minako didn’t move, except to turn her head and watch Ami disappear into the folds of clothing as the door swung open. Ami’s voice, when she next spoke, was sharp, commanding. “Eyes closed.” Minako closed her eyes, wondering just what Ami had in mind.
When a hand touched her face, just behind the curve of her jaw, Minako jumped, but managed to keep her eyes closed. A finger, covered with something cool and aromatic, slid just behind her ear then was removed, to return at the other ear. Minako could smell something flowery, like lavender, as the breeze from the window moved the scent around the room. She felt herself drawn forward, the cool liquid feel of the scent sliding down her spine along the open back of her dress. The hand came to rest at the small of her back, where her dress once again began. She leaned back against the wall, feeling the warmth of Ami’s hand pressing into her skin. But when another finger began to trace a path from Minako’s ear, then down her neck, past the collarbone, lower, following the delicate curve of décolletage, Minako’s eyes snapped open.
There was Ami, her eyes on the pale white skin that showed at the top if Minako’s dress, while she traced a line down past the edge of the dress’s neckline. Minako laughed when she realized that Ami was wearing one of Haruka’s white dress shirts, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow…and a tie. Her eyes shining, Minako found herself considerably sobered. She understood completely what Ami was doing Then Ami looked up from her occupation, and the glint of mischief in her eyes was unmistakable.
Using the hand that lay on Minako’s back, Ami pulled the blonde closer, and Minako thrust her thigh between Ami’s, feeling her warmth through her clothes. One hand in Minako’s hair, one on her back, Ami moved closer, then with a sudden motion, captured Minako’s lips with her own.
Ami could feel the scene she had just watched explode in her head, egged on by the sensation of Minako’s lips and thigh against her own. She slipped her hand beneath one of the dress straps and followed the slope of Minako’s shoulder down to her chest. Both women gasped when Ami’s hand brushed over Minako’s nipple. Minako slumped against the wall, as Ami buried her face in Minako’s neck, biting and kissing anything she could reach.
Ami lowered her head to kiss Minako just above the line of her dress, her tongue darting beneath the edge. Minako leaned her head against the wall and smiled. With one hand, Minako kept Ami’s mouth pressed against her, while the other began to move downwards, playing out her role as Michiru.
“I can’t stop thinking about them, can you?” Minako whispered. Ami shook her head, but didn’t stop what she was doing. “This has got to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done…” she said and laughed.
The brought Ami up short. “What’s that?” she asked.
Minako took hold of the tie around Ami’s neck and dragged her over to the bed, pushed her back onto it and smiled at the look on Ami’s face as she unzipped her dress. The black material slid almost silently onto the floor and she straddled Ami’s lap, while the blue-haired woman watched with large eyes. As she unbuttoned the shirt collar and untied the tie, Minako leaned forward into Ami’s ear, kissed it lightly and said, “Making love to one of my best friends on the bed shared by two more friends…who may walk in any moment.” Her tongue slid into the corner of Ami’s ear. Ami’s eyes simply rolled up into her head as she moaned.
While she continued unbuttoning the shirt Ami wore, Minako grabbed a handful of Ami’s hair and lifted the other woman to meet her in a passionate kiss. Their tongues met, a current sparking between them. Ami’s hand found Minako’s back, and Minako found herself arching as Ami’s mouth covered one breast. Minako whipped her head back and forth as Ami feasted on her, playing with one nipple as she sucked the other. With a growl, Minako threw her weight onto Ami and bore her down upon the bed, then pulled the shirt Ami wore down her arms. Minako’s hair spread across Ami’s face and shoulders, as she lowered herself onto the other woman. Ami reached up, and buried her hand in Minako’s mane kissing her deeply. The blonde’s hands traced Ami’s breasts softly, her tongue teasing Ami’s.
“No,” Ami whispered, and gripping Minako’s shoulders, pushed the blonde off her, rolled her to one side, then laid herself next to Minako. Holding Minako down with one arm, Ami slid the other along Minako’s leg, tracing its delicate musculature. Her hand slid under the edge of Minako’s underwear and the blonde once again grasped Ami’s arms hard enough to hurt. Ami grinned down at Minako, as the blonde became incoherent. She grinned ever more fiercely as Minako’s movements became more urgent, and finally ended with a deep shudder and moan.
Minako opened her eyes and stared at Ami curiously, stretching her body and reaching out lazily for her. “Come here,” she whispered, pulling the blue-haired woman down. Minako kissed her way down Ami’s neck, past her breasts and across her ribs (finding, incidentally, that Ami was rather ticklish in several places.) Rolling Ami onto her back, Minako continued to kiss her hips, thigh, then inner thigh. When her lips brushed Ami’s center, Minako almost laughed at the hoarse, guttural sound that forced its way from Ami. The blonde knew she was in control and she loved it. Tracing lazy circles around her center, Minako held Ami’s slim form in her arms as she began to move uncontrollably and smiled as she felt Ami crest, then subside.
A short time later, dressed once again (and Haruka’s shirt stuck way in the back of the closet where hopefully it wouldn’t be found until long after today was a memory and no one would associate any wrinkles in the fabric with anyone hiding in the closet) the two women took one look at themselves in the mirror and collapsed with laughter.
“No one,” groaned Ami, “will believe anything we say about where we’ve been.”
“Nope.” Minako agreed, trying with some desperate hope to reapply some light makeup. “The truth is hideously obvious.”
Ami sat down on the bed. “I wonder how they do it.”
Minako turned and faced her. “I wonder that a lot.”
Ami grinned. “Me too.” Standing, she crossed the room, took one look around and gestured towards the door. “Well, shall we?”
Minako nodded, glanced at herself once more in the mirror and opened the door. Peeking out into the hallway, she said “All clear.”
Just before Minako opened the door, Ami reached out to stop her. “Wait.” She said, “Before we go back, I have to ask this…” Minako lifted an eyebrow in anticipation, and Ami continued. “How long did you know me before you went through my dresser and closet?”
Minako’s muffled her laughter with a hand, but she answered sincerely. “Honestly? The first time we were over your place. I thought Rei was going to die!” Then she opened the door and stepped into the empty hall, before Ami could even frame a reply.
Returning to the party, both women were relieved to find a hotly contested game of charades in full swing. It appeared to be Inners vs. Outers and the Inners were losing. Minako, being Minako, threw herself into the fray and in seconds had evened the score.
Ami sighed a little with relief that no one had taken any notice of them. She therefore nearly jumped out of her skin when Makoto came up from behind her suddenly.
“Did you ever notice,” the chestnut-haired woman whispered in her ear, “how often Haruka and Michiru wander off together?”
Ami swallowed hard, but shook her head.
Makoto gave her a crooked grin. “Didn’t you ever wonder what their bedroom is like?”
To the tall girl’s complete surprise, Ami’s eyes got very large, she took a step back, and squeaked “No!” with surprising vehemence. Ami then turned towards the crowd of women, and practically flew into their midst, shouting absurd answers to the charade clues.
Makoto stared after her friend, wondered if she was perhaps cracking, then shrugged and returned to the party once again.
The End
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon © Takeuchi Naoko, Bandai Visual, Kodansha, etc.
Original situations and characters, E. Friedman