Sailor Moon V
                                       *
                               Tales Of The Night

(Author's Note: While this series is based on my original "Sailor Moon V * The
  Dark Adventures Of The Sailor Scouts" series, and while it is possible to
  incorporate these episodes into SMV*DA, this is not the case.  SMV*TN is to
  be considered, for all intents and practical purposes, a separate series
  from SMV*DA.)


                                 Episode Five
                                       *
                                 Reminiscence


     General Malachite looked up with a frown as the door chime went off,
dragging him out of his darkened thoughts and anchoring him back in reality
once again.  Am I to be devoid of peace now? he thought with a mental snarl as
he rose to his feet and made his way towards the door.
     He idly wondered who it could possibly be, as only the most senior of
officers were allowed access to this part of the Imperial Castle and fewer
still bothered to retain personal quarters there.  Had it been something that
related to his new 'promotion' to Commander-General, they would have simply
sent a message to his commlink instead of knocking on his door.  Granted it
could be one of his 'next-door neighbors' like Brigadier Zan'zemet asking to
borrow something mundane as all neighbors do, but surely even she knew that now
was NOT the time to approach him for anything.
     Especially if it's for her idea of comfort, he thought with an inaudible
snarl at the mere thought of physical intimacy with her, or anyone else for
that matter.  Not that Zan'zemet wasn't attractive, far from it, but he was
still trying to get over the numbness of Zoicite's death.
     He did his best to clear his thoughts as he unsealed the door and allowed
it to hiss open, not bothering to check the security sensors for potential
threats.  If someone wanted to kill him, he doubted he would be in a mood to
offer much resistance, if any at all.
     He paused and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Prince Darian standing in
the hallway, a small bottle held in the crook of his arm.  "Prince Darian," he
said in a perfectly neutral tone as he studied the dark prince very carefully.
It had barely been a week since his kidnapping from Earth, right out from under
the nose of Sailor Moon, and subsequent brainwashing to make him Queen Beryl's
willing pawn.  The erasure and suppression of his memories seemed to be holding
as expected, but the Psi-Corp had made it quite clear to everyone that he still
needed to be monitored very carefully for slippages of the mind-blocks.
     "General," Darian replied in a faintly cool tone, his dark eyes seeming to
bore through the denizen in a studious but non-threatening manner.  "I hope I'm
not interrupting anything of importance."
     A hollow grunt rose up from Malachite's chest.  "I'd like to say yes, but
that would mean that I had something of importance to be working on first," he
pointed out with a measure of dryness.  "Queen Beryl made it quite clear that
she had new plans in mind, but to borrow your unique human phrasing, we were to
sit around with our thumbs up our butts until she was ready to share her grand
and glorious schemes with the rest of us."
     The dark prince chuckled very quietly to himself.  "Yes, I think that sums
it up nicely.  I'm sure we'll both be busy soon enough."
     "Be that as it may," Malachite said slowly with a hint of warning to his
tone, "I trust there is a reason you've come knocking on my door like this?"
     Darian paused to regard him carefully for several moments before nodding
slowly.  "There is," he finally said.  "One of Beryl's agents was kind enough
to go shopping on Earth for me, and one of the things that was brought back was
a little liquid happiness," he said, lifting up the bottle of scotch.  "As her
Majesty is in a bit of a mood at the moment and has no desire to indulge, I
thought I'd find someone else to share it with who just might appreciate it."
     Malachite glanced at the bottle, one pale white eyebrow arching up in idle
amusement.  "Earth alcohol, is it?" he mused.  "How quaint.  Humor me for a
moment and explain why exactly you thought I would be interested?" he prodded,
trying not to let too much resentment show through.  He knew he really couldn't
afford to antagonize Queen Beryl's new 'toy,' but at the same time he was all
too aware of the circumstances of Darian's arrival in the Negaverse.... and how
much it had personally cost him.
     "Personal habit," Darian replied with an absent shrug of dismissal.  "I
try to avoid drinking alone, so I always share with a friend.  However, seeing
how I don't have any around here, I figured I would go with someone I thought
I could trust.  Of course, there's no-one around here like that either, so I
decided to settle on someone I could at least respect enough to share a drink
with.  You're the first person that came to mind," Darian added casually.
     The denizen general paused and cast a very leery glance at the human, not
entirely sure how he should take that statement.  "Prince Darian, you surprise
me," he finally said in a guarded tone.  "Surely after what you said back in
the Throne Room...."
     "Let's get something understood here, pal," Darian interrupted quietly,
his eyes narrowing.  "We both serve our Queen and in our own unique ways.  I
could care less what you do and how, just as long as it doesn't interfere in
what I'm doing.  Play with the other Sailor Scouts however you want, but *I*
will be the one to relieve Beryl of the burden of Sailor Moon.  You can have
her corpse once I have extracted her heart and have it placed at Beryl's feet.
Now, having gotten that understood between us.... Beryl also ordered us to work
together in order to capture the other Sailor Scouts.  Surely we can both act
like men to ignore petty differences in the name of serving our Queen."
     "Perhaps," Malachite allowed in a flat but otherwise emotionless tone.
"However, I still fail to see what that has to do with you standing at my
doorstep with a bottle of what could be a neurotoxin for all I know."
     A faint smirk brushed the edges of Darian's lips.  "It can be a neurotoxin
if you drink enough of it," he said with a note of humor.  "And like I said, I
don't care to drink alone.  I can go find someone else if you're not all that
interested, General," he added with just the faintest hint of a challenge to
his tone.
     "Again, Prince Darian, why me?" Malachite asked simply.  "We are far from
being friends."
     "Like I said," the dark prince replied with open amusement, "I had to
lower my usual standards to find someone suitable.  You're right, I doubt we
will ever be friends, but at the same time.... I will admit I can respect your
position in the grand scheme of things," Darian said, prompting a surprised
blink from Malachite.  "I mean, you are a full general, after all, and I know
that they didn't give it to you based on your looks."
     It once again took Malachite several seconds to decide on how to accept
the statement.  He had no illusions that Darian liked him and figured that the
only reason Darian was even talking to him with some semblance of civility was
due to Beryl's insistence that they 'work together' to 'solve' the problem of
Sailor Moon and the other Sailor Scouts running around on Earth.
     He briefly slipped back into the dark miasma of recent memories, of how
Zoicite had attempted to attack Darian in an elevator on Earth.  Her attack had
failed and only served to draw Sailor Moon into the immediate area, where a
quick confrontation had resulted in a standstill.  That changed when Zoicite
used her powers to cause a shard of crystal to become a projectile, slamming
into Darian's back in a sneak-attack and bringing him to the brink of death.
     The near-fatal attack only served to force Sailor Moon to pull out all the
proverbial stops, unleashing the full force of her powers.  The seven Rainbow
Crystals that *everyone* had tried to locate and had finally been gathered by
Zoicite were spontaneously drawn to Sailor Moon and merged, reforming into the
Imperium Silver Crystal that had been thought to be lost after the invasion of
the Moon Kingdom.
     That had forced Malchite and Zoicite to retreat, but not before they had
snatched Darian's broken body out from Sailor Moon's tearful grasp and took him
with them back into the Negaverse.  Queen Beryl had been delighted to have him
in her possession, but had also been utterly furious that Zoicite had disobeyed
her instructions once again.  And much to his shock, Beryl promptly made sure
that it was the last time Zoicite would ever do such a thing....
     "A simple yes or no will suffice," Darian spoke up dryly, snapping the
general out of his thoughts just as he was about to slip back into the dark
abyss of depression once again.  "No offense, but I'm not about to stand out
here in the middle of the hallway all night."
     Malachite blinked and looked up at him, feeling the numbness setting back
in.  He sighed quietly and made a snap-decision, figuring that he had already
lost what he cared the most about and had little else to lose.  He took a step
back and made a gesture with his chin, silently inviting the human into his
personal quarters.
     "Thank you," Darian said as he strode past the white-haired general and
made his way inside.
     Malachite paused to take a quiet but deep breath before instructing the
door mechanism to close and seal itself before turning around to follow Darian
into what passed for his living room.  The living quarters were fairly modest
by anyone's standards, consisting of spacious living room and a medium-sized
bedroom.  The mini-kitchen and cooking facilites were in one corner, while the
door to the standard-sized bathroom was against the far wall.
     Darian paused to look around the room before nodding to himself.  "Nice,"
he admitted as he spent a few moments studying the various trophies and other
personal memorabilia lining the walls that every senior officer in the military
tended to accumulate over the course of his or her career.
     "Rank does have its privileges," Malachite said dryly as he went over to
the small cabinet over the sink.  He came back a few moments later with a pair
of ordinary glass tumblers, holding one out to Darian with a neutral expression
on his face.  "I would imagine that Queen Beryl has found a similar room for
you elsewhere in the Castle?" he inquired absently.
     "A small one, yes," Darian replied as he carefully broke the seal on the
bottle and untwisted the cap.  "Nothing as roomy as this one, granted, but its
not like I spend a lot of time in it anyway."
     An almost inaudible grunt rose up from Malachite's chest as he thought
about what it meant.  Rumors were starting to very quietly circulate about how
the human prince was providing rather specialized services for Queen Beryl, the
kind that only a life-mate or a consort would offer.  While it was an open
secret that their Queen was far from a celibate woman, she usually kept such
encounters under a very air-tight lid.  But if she was letting it become known
that her needs were being taken care of....
     He blinked and refocused as the tumbler was taken out of his hand, once
again snapping his attention back to reality.  He blinked again as he realized
that Darian had filled them both with a small measure of the amber liquid and
had set the bottle down on the denizen version of a coffee table.  "Not very
generous when you drink, are you?" he pointed out as he eyeballed the level of
liquid in the tumbler he was still holding.
     Darian paused and glanced up at him.  "You ever drink this before?" he
asked in a cool tone.  "Trust me, what you have now will put you on your butt
if you're not prepared for it.  There's more if you're still standing once you
slug it down," he added with a smirk and a gesture towards the bottle.  He then
downed the contents of his tumbler in a single gulp, releasing his breath in a
somewhat explosive sigh before giving the denizen an expectant look.
     Malachite retured the gaze with extreme wariness before he glanced down at
the contents of his glass.  He knew a challenge when one rose up to face him,
but he also knew that there were a great number of things from Earth that posed
little danger to humans but were exceedingly toxic to denizens.
     He paused and cast a very quick glance over at a small picture frame in
the corner, briefly remembering the time Zoicite had brought a small basket of
foodstuffs back from Earth for him to sample.  The apple cider had been quite
a tasteful experience, but the gas cramps a few hours later had kept them both
holed up in their bathrooms well into the night.  They later agreed that it had
been worth it.... as had been the small bars of chocolate they had tasted.  The
after-effects of that experiment had likewise kept them both up well into a
different night, but for an entirely different reason....
     Malachite snarled as the memories resurfaced yet again, prompting him to
throw caution to the winds and toss back the amber contents in a single gulp
just as Darian had done.  The taste of the scotch was surprisingly smooth....
for all of half a second.  The burning sensation started up just as he was in
the process of swallowing, resulting in a wide-eyed look of shock and a hard
gasp for air that threatened to choke him.
     "Told ya," Darian said with a knowing smirk.  The look of humor changed as
he was answered with a string of very raspy syllables in the denizen language,
something that he wasn't able to fully translate.  Queen Beryl was working on
teaching him the basics of the Central Plains dialect, usually late at night
when it was just the two of them alone together, but somehow things kept ending
up taking a distinctly different route....
     "That you did," Malachite finally said in a language Darian could readily
understand, still gasping quietly for air.  He absently wiped his mouth on his
sleeve and glanced down at the empty tumbler, his eyebrows still arched up at
the sheer intensity of the fire now burning in his guts.  "Impressive stuff."
     "Now you know why I don't drink alone," Darian observed as he picked up
the bottle and poured another measure of scotch into each glass.
     "And why is that?" Malachite inquired.  He glanced around the room before
deciding that it was best to be sitting down if subsequent glasses of alcohol
were going to kick him just as hard.  He sat down on the small couch and leaned
back to make himself comfortable.  A very faint scent wafted past him a moment
later, almost causing him to leap back up off the couch and scream at the world
in general.
     "Too much of this stuff will make anyone do stupid things," Darian pointed
out as he began to absently wander around the room.  "If I have someone else
with me, that keeps me largely focused and potentially out of trouble.  Hence
why I prefer to drink with friends or someone I can trust," he added with a dry
laugh, taking a very small sip of scotch.
     "I suppose that makes sense," Malachite muttered as he closed his eyes,
trying very hard not to let the flowery scent drive him over the precipice of
madness.  It was, of course, her scent, and with as often as she had sat or
laid down on the couch, it was no wonder that it continued to smell like her.
     The memories returned despite his best efforts, hearing her soft purrs in
his ear as she stretched out on the couch and drew him down to her, resting his
head against her bare breasts.  The soft scent of the delicate ky'thra blossoms
enfolded him like a blanket as he kissed her skin, the fragrance a natural by-
product of her Chaos Factor powers.  Even when she was covered in sweat, as she
soon became as his manhood slipped past the folds of her sheath to plunge deep
inside her, the normally overpowering odor of denizen sweat was all but masked
by the heady aroma of the blossoms as they made love on the couch....
     "You know," Darian said slowly, causing Malachite's eyes to open of their
own accord and mercifully returning the memory back into the darkness of his
mind, "This design looks awfully familiar for some reason."
     It took the denizen general a moment to fully clear his mind and focus on
what Darian was looking at.  "It should," he pointed out.  "I pulled that out
of the chest of my second-in-command during the Moon Kingdom invasion and took
it back home with me.  She had been a very competent officer, one of the few
that I genuinely miss having around, and so I felt it would make an appropriate
memorial.  Not that she was going to be taking it home with her or anything,"
he added with a dark smile and a very quiet chuckle.
     "I see," Darian said very quietly, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the
sword hanging from the wall.  "And the necklace hanging from it?"
     "Necklace?" Malachite echoed before he remembered.  "Ah, yes," he murmured
as he leaned back against the couch cushions and took a very careful sip of the
amber scotch.  "We had taken a few captives back with us, and let's just say
that one of them caught my eye.  She lasted a week," he added with a shrug of
indifference.  "But it was an interesting week nonetheless."
     "Right," Darian said, casting a faintly uneasy look towards the figure on
the couch before moving off to study another weapon hanging from the wall.
     Why do you still have her? Malachite heard in his mind as more of the dark
memories resurfaced without warning, prompting him to toss back the remainder
of his drink in an attempt at squelching them.
     Am I no longer enough for you? Zoicite whispered.  Have you grown tired of
my touch, too bored with my k'vesana that you have to spend your time filling
hers?  Is that human truly enough to satisfy you?
     She is a toy, ne'ana, he replied to her as he reached up, running the tips
of his fingers through her mane of silky hair.  Look at her, even now she is
cowering and simpering in fear.
     And even now you are thinking of taking her again, I see, she pointed out
as she ran her fingers along the swelling in his pants.
     Are you sure I'm not thinking about you? he murmured as he leaned over to
brush his lips against the shell of her ear, tickling her as he spoke.
     No, I'm not sure, she retorted as she continued to very gently knead his
hardening manhood through his clothing.  You haven't so much as touched me in
a week, and I'm starting to wonder what I truly mean to you.  Am I simply yet
another toy, one to be played with when you're bored and set back down to be
forgotten when you're done?
     You surprise me, Zoi, he murmured quietly.  Jealous of a human?  He paused
and closed his eyes as she leaned forward to fasten her lips to his, softly
working her mouth against him until they were both slightly breathless.
     I don't blame you for being curious about humans, she whispered as she
tilted her head back just enough to let them breathe.  Her lips continued to
brush against his as she spoke, producing a slightly electric tingle that made
them both shiver.  And from what I've heard from others, they are every bit as
pleasurable to bed as denizens are.  Had I known you would have focused on her
for this long, I'd have taken one of the males myself out of sheer curiosity
when I had the chance.
     Oh? he purred, his eyebrows arching up in surprise.  Really, now....
     But I'd have come back to you, Zoicite whispered as she edged back enough
to stare into his eyes.  We've both had others before, and we both know it, but
when I'm with you.... when you're in me, she breathed as she let her lips roam
across his ear in a feather-light caress, Nothing else compares.  No-one else
compares.  And I need it, I need you.  Now.
     Zoicite.... he murmured softly as felt his zipper being undone.  A very
gentle tug on his undershorts promptly freed his throbbing manhood from the
confines of his pants, exposing him to the cool air of the room.
     Get rid of her, she pleaded quietly as she pressed herself against him,
rubbing her crotch against his pulsing flesh.  Take her one last time if you
want, but save your strength for me, for the one who can truly satisfy you....
     There were no words for him to say, indeed for either of them to say.  A
simple tug on a string undid half of her outfit, and it didn't take much of an
effort for the other side to be discarded.  Little time was wasted after that,
and before he knew it she was impaling herself on his shaft, pushing him back
in the chair and letting her own body-weight pull herself down even further
until he was completely ensconced within the delicious wetness of her sheath.
Then her muscles began to move, the internal ones that were rarely seen but
could be felt with sometimes devastating consequences for his self-control....
     "You alright?" Darian asked, almost literally jolting Malachite out of his
thoughts.  "Don't tell me the booze is hitting you that hard already...."
     "Eh?" Malachite grunted as the memories and sensations promptly faded like
so much fog, evaporating to leave only a hollow feeling behind in his soul.
     "You looked like you were zoning out on me," Darian pointed out.
     Malachite glared at him, resentful for the disruption of his memories even
as he was grateful for being saved from them.  "I'm a general," he said after
a moment of uneasy silence.  "I tend to have a lot on my mind at times."
     Darian nodded his head, seeming to understand and accept the answer.  "I
can picture that," he said as he turned back to the wall.  "And speaking of
pictures.... when was this one taken?"
     "Which picture of what?" he inquired, a hint of irritation coloring his
tone as he leaned forward to grab the bottle of scotch.  He hesitated slightly
as his senses briefly swirled around him, warning him that perhaps the alcohol
was hitting his system harder than he had initially thought.
     "Whomever this cute blonde is," Darian observed with an absent gesture of
his tumbler before swirling the contents around and draining it.  "I don't have
the slightest clue how you guys age over time, but she seems fairly young in
this picture."
     It took Malachite every ounce of his self-control to neither crush the
glass in his right hand nor the smash the bottle in his left hand against the
coffee table.  "That's a picture of Zoicite," he murmured.  "It was taken not
too long after we started dating," he managed to say in a level tone as he
half-filled his glass with the scotch.  The bottle made a heavy thumping sound
as it was set down, sloshing the contents of both the bottle and the tumbler.
     Darian blinked hard and glanced at him, suddenly sensing he had stepped on
a landmine of some sort.  "Zoicite?" he echoed.  "You mean General Zoicite?
You two were dating?" he prodded carefully.
     Malachite paused and glanced at the Earth prince.  "You didn't know?" he
inquired as he took a deep sip, ignoring the feeling of his throat being set on
fire as he swallowed.  Scotch, pah, he thought darkly.  They should have called
it scorch for a little truth in advertising.
     "I had no idea...." Darian said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he
looked like he was concentrating on something.
     "Yes, we were," Malachite spoke up, suddenly recalling the warning that
the brainwashed prince shouldn't be allowed to try to remember too hard about
events in the recent past.  Darian's memories of what had truly taken place in
the Moon Kingdom a thousand years ago had been successfully blocked, but the
Psi-Corp telepaths had warned them that the block surrounding the events of the
previous two weeks was not nearly as secure.
     "Sorry to hear that," Darian said quietly as he gazed back at the image
that had been sealed and encased in a piece of polished marble.  "You know, I
keep thinking that I should remember meeting her or something, but...."
     "Your mind is still recovering from the battle," Malachite spoke up in a
very careful tone.  "Sailor Moon's powers are dangerous like that, able to
damage or even destroy minds.  You're lucky to even be alive, Prince Darian,
let alone remember things like who you are and how to change your underwear."
     That drew a slightly unamused look from the dark prince, the edges of his
mouth turning downwards.  "I know what that whiny brat did to me," he growled
in a low tone.  "Believe me, some things are impossible to forget, and I assure
you that the payback is going to be a royal bitch when the time comes."
     I'm sure, Malachite thought to himself as he tried not to wonder too hard
about what else the Psi-Corp had inserted into his mind at Beryl's direction.
Maybe that also explains his apparent interest in Beryl, he thought sourly.
Better you than me, he added, trying not to remember how a much-younger Queen
Beryl had circumspectly suggested that they spend the night together.  He had
managed to find a way to express his unwillingness at the proposition without
upsetting her in the slightest, which is why his career hadn't been impeded or
otherwise interfered with.
     "In any regard, Prince Darian," he said aloud, "I don't recall you ever
being in a position to meet her, so don't worry about it.  I'm sure that if you
had been able to, you would remember her just as well as I do."
     "Hopefully not on the same terms," Darian replied with a faint smirk.
     "Have some respect for the dead, Darian," Malachite said in a low tone as
he had to fight another internal battle to avoid crushing his glass again.
     Darian paused as he again sensed an undercurrent of dangerous tension,
finally giving the denizen general a muted nod of understanding.  "So tell me
about her, then," he said as he turned back to study the picture.  "She is
quite pretty in this picture."
     Malachite closed his eyes as the memory surfaced of when it was taken and
how.  "She wasn't quite three hundred when that was taken," Malachite said in
a subdued tone.  "And she carried her beauty quite well through the centuries.
I was a Major at the time, and she had just screened for Field Captain.  We met
on the field of battle, a historically minor skirmish in the Western Forests
with some uppity Avian tribe.  Both supplies and resources had diminished as
the days wore on, so some of the units merged together to share what little we
had with our fellow warriors."
     He sighed quietly to himself as the dark memories began to resurface, how
the admin staff of three different units wound up trying to share the same 
pavilion tent and still direct their units.  Combat stress focused everyone on
their tasks at hand, but attentions tended to drift when things slowed down and
one was able to stop and actually take notice of the staff officer whom had
spent the past twelve hours all but sitting in your lap.  And to this day it
puzzled him how then and only then did he notice the rather alluring flowery
scent that seemed to permeate the air around her....
     The field shower had helped clear his mind, as had the plate full of field
rations that had been warmed over the engine compartment of a truck.  When he
crawled into his assigned tent long past sundown only to find it had already
become occupied by her in a moment of confusion over assignments, things took
a very different course.  At the time it had simply been a case of indulging in
some mutual stress-relief, but somewhere between the second and third round of
love-making a connection had been rather solidly made....
     "Nothing like putting your life on the line with someone else to make a
connection, eh?" Darian suggested as he refilled his glass from the half-empty
bottle of scotch, completely unaware of the images replaying themselves in
Malachite's mind.
     "You could say that," the denizen allowed softly as he continued to stare
at the wall, his eyes opened but not seeing.  To this day he could still feel
her nails lightly raking across his back as she wrapped her legs around his
waist, panting softly in his ear and trying to remain quiet as he firmly thrust
himself into her depths, only to deliberately withdraw in agonizing slowness
before sliding forward to fill her again.  Her muscles had worked a rhythm of
their own, grabbing and releasing him in a tempo that tested the limits of his
self-control before pushing him over the edge to flood the exquisite depths of
her sheath with his seed....
     "You sure you're alright?" Darian prodded carefully, not entirely sure
what to make of the glazed look in the denizen's dark eyes.  He blinked when
Malachite did, the haze seeming to vanish in an instant to be replaced with a
slightly haunted look.
     "Like I said, I have a lot on my mind," Malachite replied, allowing just
the faintest hint of annoyance to color his tone.
     "Miss her?" Darian inquired on a near-random impulse.
     The question, posed when he was moving to take a sip of his drink, took
him by complete surprise and came dangerously close to making him spill the
remaining contents of his glass.  "Hmm?" he inquired as he tried to clear his
mind of the last vestiges of the now-silent memories.
     "Zoicite," Darian prompted.
     Malachite paused and stared at his reflection in the glass, idly studying
the way his visage rippled in the pale liquid.  It really isn't any of his
k'vesi business, he found himself thinking even as he opened his mouth to reply
to the dark prince.  "I do," he confessed quietly.  "She was.... special."
     "How so?" the dark prince asked in a gentle tone as he took a measured sip
of his drink.  He paused as he got a look in response that was as confused as
it was poisonous, suggesting that he needed to expound on his question.  "Bear
in mind that I've never had anyone in my life like that," he said carefully.
"I've had a girlfriend or two before, of course, but.... nothing like what you
seem to have had with her."
     "In that case, Prince Darian," Malachite replied in a tone that was devoid
of any hint of emotion, "I don't think you could understand an answer even if
I could give it to you.  Ironic that I know twelve dialects of our language in
addition to knowing most of your language, yet among them can't find the right
words to convey it.  Once you've experienced it for yourself, you'll understand
what it's like and not need to have to ask that question again."
     "Fair enough," Darian allowed with a slight nod of his head.  "Perhaps you
can humor me anyway and try to explain what you'll miss about her the most?"
     What's it to you, human? he wanted to snarl as he closed his eyes.  The
question still rattled around inside his mind, however, prompting him to stop
and truly think about it.  What do I miss the most, ne'ana?
     Your body? he thought as his mind seemed to melt and reform in another
time and place.  He closed his eyes and yielded to her, allowing her to pull
his head into her chest and slip the throbbing point of her nipple into his
mouth.  A simple movement of his cheeks sucked the hardened nub past his lips
in an instant, eliciting a soft gasp of electric pleasure from her.  Her gasp
had barely faded away before being replaced by a moan as he moved his hips,
tracing the contours of her inner thighs with the tip of his manhood before he
gently applied the right kind of pressure against her nether lips.  They soon
parted around him, engulfing him as he eased himself into her honeyed depths.
His forward motion was all but stopped for a brief instant as she clenched her
muscles, sending sharp tingles unlike anything they had ever experienced with
anyone else running up and down both their spines....
     Your touch? he wondered as the world changed shape around him again to
become a vacation cottage in a very desolate part of the Outreaches.  The heat
was stifling, even with the ceiling fan rotating at maximum velocity, but he
could still feel the coolness of her fingertips as she traced every curve and
contour of his body as they lay naked on the sheets.  Usually her touch on his
manhood like that would result in an instant arousal, and even now it seemed to
be giving serious thought to reacting to her, but the unusually intense summer
heat was making them both lazy.  And so they merely cuddled and caressed one
another until well after sundown, when the air finally cooled down enough to
suggest that the idea of heated passion was a good one again....
     Your taste? he sighed as the memories continued to melt and slide around
him.  She was lying on the bed in her quarters, giving him an unhappy look as
she tried to adjust the medical bindings that kept her bruised ribs protected
until the healing process was completed.  She blinked as he merely kissed her
bare stomach before dipping his head down further, nuzzling the silky smooth
skin of her sheath.  Whatever protest she might have made about not being in
much of a mood because of the pain of her injuries evaporated as his tongue
deftly slipped into her, working in a very slow circle around the pearl of her
womanhood.  It wasn't long before she was clutching the sheets and whimpering
for release as he continued his gentle assault, knowing it would be a number of
weeks before he could properly take her but still needing to feel the exquisite
pleasure that only he could give her....
     "Her smell," he finally said aloud, more a whisper than anything.  "She
always smelled like ky'thra, no matter what.  It was ingrained into her powers
of Chaos, so whenever she did something like teleported or blasted something
with kinetic energy, there would always be a flurry of ky'thra blossoms in the
air around her.  Once, I took her into the forest and...."
     "Go on," Darian said quietly as Malachite trailed off, his expression
becoming visibly haunted.
     "We made love in the forest," the denizen said, his voice barely more than
a ghost of a faded whisper.  "I took her there when she was promoted to Colonel
as a sort of private celebration, to the same spot where we first met.  I asked
her not to try to control her powers, as I wanted us both to be surrounded in
a sea of ky'thra when we were done.  It was.... an amazing experience...."
     Wait, I remember this place, Zoicite said slowly in his memory.  Over by
that rock, that's where the artillery magazine blew up on us.  And over there
would be.... wow, that tree is still standing?  That's impressive.  So then the
command truck would have been parked over there....
     Which would put the tents here, he said as he laid the blanket down and
spread it out.  Amazing how some things change and others don't, even after a
good eight hundred years.
     Has it been that long, Mal? she murmured in his ear, gently nipping his
earlobe as she felt his fingers working the buttons to her uniform.
     When it comes to you, my sweet, it hasn't been nearly enough time spent
together, he replied softly as he continued to undress her.  It wasn't too long
before she was completely naked, the warm light of the sun filtering through
the thick forest canopy to play across the lines of her skin.  His turn came
immediately afterwards, remaining still while her hands worked buttons and
unsealed clasps.
     Zoi? he murmured as they slowly sank down on the blanket, hands and lips
roaming over one another in slow motion.  How long can you maintain that hover
power of yours?
     Hmm? she said, pausing in mid-caress to look up at him in curiosity.
     The one that sends ky'thra petals everywhere, he whispered as he briefly
took a hardened nipple into his mouth.  I want this spot to remember us just as
we remember it.  A canopy of ky'thra would look nice, don't you think?
     A very soft giggle rose up from her bare chest as she sat up, one hand
still idly tracing the faint outlines of his abdominal muscles.  I suppose I
can try that, she purred.  She studied him for a moment before a coy smile
crossed her face.  Under one condition, she added in a seductive tone.
     I'm listening, he replied as he gazed at her with half-lidded eyes.
     Let me know when you're ready to come, she murmured as she straddled his
hips and settled against him.  If I have to do some gardening, so do you.
     He had absolutely no idea what she meant, but nodded anyway.  He blinked
as she was suddenly engulfed in a maelstrom of delicate pink flower petals and
teleported away, leaving him alone on the blanket and sporting the proverbial
sun-dial by his lonesome.  She reappeared several moment later, her face a mask
of concentration as she hovered above him in the same position she had been in
a few moments ago.  The ky'thra petals continued to whirl around her as she
very slowly lowered herself towards the ground, one fraction of an inch at a
time until the tip of his manhood was brushing against her sheath with the
lightest of all possible touches.
     The feeling of anticipation nearly drove them both insane as she began to
flex her hips slowly, sliding the very tip of him back and forth in the shallow
groove between her nether lips.  The mass of ky'thra surrounding her was quite
intense by the time she resumed her exquisitely slow easing of her hovering
ability, gently pressing downwards until the velvety folds of her sheath parted
around his manhood.
     Time lost all meaning as she continued to descend at a glacial pace, one
fraction at a time until the rest of their bodies met and he was fully inside
her.... or so they thought until she abruptly shut off the kinetic force that
was allowing her to hover.  The result was that she essentially fell against
him in a sharp thrust, driving him deeper still inside her aching sheath with
enough intensity to leave them both absolutely speechless.
     The love-making that followed was probably the most intense that either
could remember, easily surpassing the feelings that had been formed well over
eight hundred years ago in the exact same spot.  She was dangerously close to
passing out from sheer bliss when he finally whispered urgently to her, warning
her that he was at his limit.
     She quickly focused her thoughts and slid off of him, leaving his manhood
throbbing hard in the cool air and covered with her honeyed nectar.  Roll over
onto your side, she whispered to him as she curled up behind him, reaching out
to briskly stroke and massage his manhood.
     Zoi...? he said in an uncertain tone, his brain all but shut down by the
electric bolts of pure pleasure running through him.  He did as he was asked,
however, trying to figure out what she had in mind even as she pressed her nude
body against his back in a very deliberate and erotic fashion.
     She laughed softly and nuzzled his ear, still furiously stroking him in a
gentle but firm grip.  It takes two to make a garden, she purred.  I've seeded
this place like you wanted, but now you're going to do the same.  Share with
nature all that you've shared with me, give it the same seed that you've given
me all these years.  Come for me, my sweet Malachite....
     He barely had enough concentration to realize that ky'thra blossoms were
covering everything, not just them but the entire area as well in a literal
carpet of pink flower petals.  A bolt of lightning shot through him a moment
later as he orgasmed, jetting his seed into the open air to splash across a
cluster of the aromatic blossoms.  It was an unusually intense and draining
experience, one that left him feeling slightly awed and oddly at peace.  Not
because of the physical release, but because of an emotional one....
     They both laid there for hours, naked and in each others arms.  The heavy
scent of ky'thra wafted all around them, encasing them in a bubble of sorts
that never seemed to leave even when a breeze picked up.  The rest of the day
passed that way, holding one another and gently making love twice more before
it started to become dark.  They would have spent the night there as well if
they didn't fear what else was in the forest, as everyone knew that the really
dangerous things didn't come out until the sun had set.  And so they both got
dressed and left, leaving behind a sea of flowers and a small patch of soil
that had been seeded in a most unusual way....
     "We returned there thirty years ago," he said as he tossed back the last
remainder of scotch in his glass.  "To celebrate her promotion to general as we
had done in the past.  We both almost had heart-attacks when we saw that there
was a stand of ky'thra growing there.  It shouldn't have been able to grow in
that kind of soil, but we were both too awe-struck to care.  It was.... a thing
of beauty.  And the smell.... it smelled just like her."
     It was hard to tell if it was a very dry and hollow laugh or a contained
sob that rose up from his chest as he continued to stare at the wall.  "That's
where she sleeps now," he murmured in a broken whisper.  "I built an open-air
tomb around the site and had her encased in life-crystal on a dias, so that she
could be surrounded by the flowers.  It will take a century for the crystal to
decay into a shard, but when it does I will see that we will remain together
until the end."
     Both men nearly hit the ceiling as the commlink on Darian's belt chittered
quietly, the noise sounding unusually loud for some reason.  The dark prince
cast an uneasy glance at it before he picked it up, opening the channel with a
simple flick of his wrist.  "Yes?" he said in a faintly irritated tone.
     <The Queen summons you,> said the whispery voice of one of Queen Beryl's
personal bodyguards.
     Darian let out his breath quietly, making sure that it couldn't be picked
up by the commlink's microphone.  "Very well," he said simply and closed the
connection.  He put the device back on his belt and cast a glance towards the
slumped figure on the couch, a faint frown tugging on his lips.  "So much for
enjoying a drink in peace and quiet," he sighed.
     "Duty is a bitch, isn't it?" Malachite muttered as he eyed how much of the
amber scotch was left in the bottle.  He decided that he had already had enough
and would pass on drinking any more, figuring that the Earth prince probably
wasn't making a joke about how too much alcohol would become a neurotoxin.
     "I don't need to be a general to understand that one," Darian replied with
a faint smirk.  He tossed back the last of his drink and set the empty tumbler
down next to the three-quarters empty bottle.  "Thanks for the company, for
what it was worth."  He smirked to himself as he merely got a distracted grunt
in reply and decided it was best to leave.  He was fairly sure that the denizen
was quite drunk by this point, which would easily explain his loss of focus and
the look on his face as he tried to think straight.
     Darian was halfway to the door when a thought clicked in his mind, causing
him to pause and glance over his shoulder.  "Oh, and a word of advice?  Drink
plenty of water before going to bed.  Otherwise the hangover in the morning is
going to be a killer.  The voice of experience, I assure you."
     "Thank you," Malachite said absently as he closed his eyes.  He listened
as the footsteps resumed before halting again, followed by the soft hissing
sound of his door being opened and shut.  Then the room was eeriely silent,
broken only by the near-silent sound of his breathing....
     And the voice of rage screaming inside his skull.
     This is all *her* fault, he told himself darkly.  If she hadn't interfered
with anything, Zoicite would still be alive.  *She* took her from me, and so
*she* will be the one to ultimately pay.  I don't care what you say, Darian,
Sailor Moon will die by *my* hand, and her human blood will feed the ky'thra
that surrounds my beloved's tomb.  *She* will pay most dearly for Zoi's death,
and nobody, not even you, will stand in my way....
     He didn't remember getting up off the couch to stumble into his bedroom,
nor did he remember stripping off the dark uniform that he hadn't bothered to
change since he returned two days ago from the Western Forests where he had
laid Zoicite's body to rest.  All he remembered before he passed out was the
way his head hit the pillow to release a soft puff of her scent, a gentle and
subtle reminder of her and the endless nights she had spent in his bed....
     And all that her memory still meant to him.


                                *  THE END  *