Title: Mamo-chan Cooks au Naturel
By:  Lilac Summers
Rated:  PG

  BEFORE YOU GO ANY FURTHER, pleeeeze let me explain!  You are all
wondering about the title, right?  Right?!  It's all Sidnei's fault!
(that's Sidnei@aol.com --> she welcomes all flames, as this is all her
fault, anyway!)  This title is misleading and downright raunchy, but
Sidnei quintuple dared me to use it!

  If I had not been so dared by wacky Sidnei, I would name this "Sunday".
It's a little stand-alone I've been wanting to write for a while.  And,
since chapter 6 of "the BIG Wish" didn't want to flow right, I decided to
offer this instead for this week.  I PROMISE chapter 6 for "TBW" will be
out next week, okay?

  "Sunday" is set five days after Neo-Queen Serenity awakens from being
inside the crystal in Sailor Moon R.  It's a sappy romantic story between
Neo Queen Serentiy and King Endymion.
Enjoy!

Disclaimer:  These characters are not mine, as Sailor Moon is the creation
of Naoko Takeuchi.  She also owns Mamo-chan.  I don't ;_; ...But neither
does Sidnei as much as she may want him!  Nyah Nyah Nyah!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

~SUNDAY~

by

Lilac Summers

In the Future . . . . .

  She stretched lazily in the large bed, instinctively reaching for the
strong form who always slept beside her.  Searching hands smoothed over
cooled silk, and nothing else.

  One sleepy blue eye opened grudgingly, surveying the empty expanse of
bed beside her.  For a second, her heart lurched.  For just an
immeasurable moment her muscles tensed and the crystal that now dwelled
within her flared chaotically.  But then there was calmness.

  The empty bed by her side did not mean that he was not safe.  He, she
reminded herself ruefully, had not always slept by her side, and had
survived just fine those twenty-something odd years.   Any many, many
times, she had lain asleep as he arose.  She had always enjoyed sleeping
in late, and he had always been one to wake early.  Hundreds of years had
not changed that.

  She sat up in bed, shoving the tangled mass of hair behind her, and
enjoyed the song of the morning . . . the breeze ruffling the sheer
curtains that shaded the windows and that surrounded the massive bed.
Rubbing one soft hand over sleep-filled eyes, she glanced, more out of
habit than any real concern for time, at the crystal clock by her bedside.
Nine a.m.

  She slumped back in bed.  My goodness, what an ungodly hour!  There were
at least three good hours of sleep left in her.  Sundays, after all, were
meant to be enjoyed . . . and she hadn't enjoyed a Sunday in months . . .
Snuggling back under the covers, she resolved on visiting dream world
once more.

  Okay, close your eyes.  YAWN . . . keep ïem closed . . . Sleep is so
good . . .  but . . . but where *is* he?

  She turned over in the bed, glaring at the beribboned canopy above.  She
wasn't going to get any more sleep if he wasn't by her side!  It had been
TOO long, the times too uncertain, for her to give up his company now.
Why, just five days ago she had broken free of her crystalline prison.
Her daughter, like mother, would sleep deeply until noon.  She deserved
the rest.  The Senshi were no doubt enjoying the first moments of peace
they had had for a long time . . . So where the *hell* was he?!

  Oh my, he was gonna get a talking to once she found him . . . What did
he think, getting up at NINE!?  It was inhuman!  And she -- she couldn't
stand to be another second away from him.

  She flung the sheets off her, only to yelp and reach for them
desperately as she caught sight of what she was wearing . . . or *not*
wearing.  She drew the blankets up to her ears and blushed scarlet,
glancing furtively at all sides.

  Oh, come on  --she chided herself-- you're in your own room!  And now is
hardly the time to be bashful, when you've been married over a thousand
years!!

  But she didn't care!  She'd always been modest to a fault.  She could
remember Endymion, then Mamo-chan, teasing her mercilessly way back during
the first years of their marriage.

  "C'mon Usako, how many times have you transformed?  And might I remind
you, you were *quite* nude all those times, in front of who knows how many
people!"

  "Mamo-chan!  That's different!"

  "Is it?" he teased, gently enfolding her in his arms so she could bury
her burning face beneath his chin.  "I remember very well wanting you as
much then as  I do now."

  "Mamo-chan!"  she'd squeaked, her mortified protests easily buried under
his deep laughter . . .

  She now smiled fondly at the memory.  Anyway, there was really nothing
wrong with a deep sense of modesty . . .  At least she wasn't at all shy
when it counted . . .  Her face flamed even more at *that* thought.  Err,
remember, my girl, that's the very reason you now find yourself naked as a
newborn!

  Wrapping a sheet around her toga-style, she was just about to step down
from the raised bed when the doorway to the chamber opened.

  She clutched the sheet tighter around her, straining to see through the
hazy shield that the bed-curtains provided.  She pulled back a corner and
peeked through.

  The tall, dark-haired form moved easily into the room, shutting the door
quietly behind him.  Her eyes drunk in the sight of him.  Tall, broad
shouldered, he was the very picture of the prince she had dreamt of for
millennia.  And her prince was wearing, she saw with great appreciation,
nothing more than his black pajama bottoms.  The curtains still got in her
way a bit, but she could see enough!

  He stopped abruptly as he noticed the large thickly-lashed blue eye that
peered at him from between the bed drapes.

  His handsome face broke out into a beautiful smile.

  "Hi there."

  Serenity fully pushed back the curtains enough to completely see his
face and smiled back at him with that same, special smile that they
reserved only for each other.

  "Hi yourself.  I was wondering where you were."

  He glanced at the clock and raised one ebony brow.  "You?  Up at nine
a.m.?  I'm seeing it, but I *still* don't believe it."

  "Oh, you!"  Unable to keep from reaching for him any longer, she
scrambled off the bed and dove for him.  "It's YOUR fault anyway that I'm
up!  Where were you at thi--"

  She stumbled to a halt as she finally noticed what he had carried into
the room.  She stared, gripping the sheets tighter as if they were the
only things that kept the warmth expanding through her chest from bursting
out.

  She raised luminous, tear-filled eyes to his.  "You remembered," she
whispered.

  He nodded slowly, his eyes just as wet as hers as he gazed at the woman
who had claimed his heart for all eternity.  "I would never forget."

  She gave a watery laugh and impatiently scrubbed the tears from her
eyes.  "Apparently, I'm the one that forgot."

  Gently setting his burden down, he walked up to her until she had to
lift her head to meet his eyes.  One long-fingered hand traced her satiny
cheek.  "No, you've just had other things on your mind.  You've been
regaining your strength . . . fighting off the eternal sleep of the
crystal for so many months.  And I could only watch you, and hope, and
pray . . ."

  She was suddenly in his arms, crushed against him as he buried his face
in her silver hair.  "My god, Sere. . . you don't know the hell it was,
being able to see you but not touch you... .always wondering if you could
at least hear me, hear me call for you.  I must have dreamed of the day I
could resume our tradition, every minute of every day."

   She clung to him desperately, relishing the solid feel of him.
"No, no. . . I could hear you.  I could hear every word and I tried so hard
to
answer you back.  But I couldn't . . . I'm so sorry, Endy, but I just
didn't have the strength."

  Endymion forced himself to release his wife and stepped far enough so he
could lift her trembling chin up to his gaze.  How he loved her . . . "No,
I don't want to hear you say that.  You are the strongest person I have
ever known, and only the power of the Silver Crystal could free you.  I
never begrudged you your sleep, my love . . . only that I couldn't sink
into oblivion just to be closer to you."

  He kissed away her tears and then swept her into his arms so he could
deposit her once more upon the white-bedecked bed.

  "You know," he said with a new lightness in his tone, "you have to be
in here for this tradition to go the way it should.  What you have done
today is most disturbing to the set standards of Sundays!"

  She sunk into the warm comfort of the bed and smiled angelically up at
him.  "Really?  And just what are the ïset standards'?"

  He perched on the edge of the bed, running a hand over her bare
shoulder.  "Well, you are supposed to sleep like a stone until I wake you,
first of all."

  "Oops!"  She closed her eyes dutifully and mock-snored for his benefit.

  He laughed, delighted with her.  "Yes, that's exactly right.  And you
are supposed to be . . . Hey!  Just what are you wearing?"

  She cocked one eye open.  "It's a sheet."

  "Yes, I know it's a sheet.  The new fashion, I presume?"

  "It's all the rage in Europe!" she confided.

  He grinned down at her devilishly, running another finger across the
exposed skin of her collarbone.  "I like it."

  She flushed and couldn't hold back a wonderful shiver.

  His grin widened.  "But you can't wear that."

  Her eyes flew open completely.  "I can't?"

  "No, because you never do on Sundays.  It's tradition, as I said."  He
slowly began unraveling the sheet from around her, and she remembered,
quite abruptly, what she wore on Sundays . . . nothing.

  "Endy . . ." she warned.

  He looked back at her innocently.  "It's tradition, Sere!  One mustn't
fool with tradition!"  Before she knew it, the sheet was off and she
braced herself, with quite a bit of anticipation, for anything he might do
next . . .

  He covered her correctly with the sheets, tucking them around her as if
she were a small child.

  She looked at him, startled and more than a little disappointed.
"Wha--?"

  His eyes laughed down at her.  "You always sleep snuggled in on
Sundays." For emphasis, he gave the covers a few good pats, smoothing out
the wrinkles, and fought to keep the laughter out of his voice as he saw
her disgruntled little face.

  "Okay, now what?  Endy, it's gonna be Monday befo--"  Her tirade
was cut off as he placed a finger on her lips.

  "Shh!  Remember!  Sleep!"

  With a little "Hmph" and a mumbled "just remember who's queen around
here" she closed her eyes and resumed her snoring.

   He stepped back to where he had left the tray.  He was so happy, he
felt he would burst.  Finally, FINALLY, to have her back in his bed, in
his arms, in his life . . .  She was no longer an untouchable statue
buried under glass, but his living, breathing, loving Serenity.  For a
moment the world seemed to spin as his emotions soared.  His joy at her
awakening had been so complete, so all-encompassing that first day, that
the world had almost seemed surreal.  They had reached for each other
instantly, both weak from the strain of being kept apart.  But all other
matters had intruded on their reunion.  The Senshi were drained to the
point of illness, the people needed to be reawakened and reassured . . .
there were buildings to fix, repairs to contract.  And then their daughter
had returned, and the entire palace had been thrown into an uproar at her
homecoming.  It had been a week of rebirth and rejoicing.

  But it had also kept the reunited sovereigns very busy.  True, they had
been inseparable every minute, each not willing to let the other out of
their sight, but the moments of privacy had been few and far apart.  Only
at night had the Neo-Queen's and King's attention been completely
undisturbed from each other.

  However, this was Sunday.  Every person in the kingdom, from the
all-powerful Senshi to the youngest child, knew that the Royal couple
would not be disturbed on Sunday, unless it be a case of national
security. It was the way it had always been.

  It had been many months that this Sunday tradition had been put on
hold. . . but no longer.

  He stepped back into the hall outside whimsically, and was brought
short by the crowd of people who had gathered there, almost dropping the
tray that was the basis of the entire custom. How was it that he had not
heard them?  They were crowded into the hall as far as he could see.  And
yet all were quiet . . .

  His gray-blue eyes alighted on the four young women who stood before the
mass of people.  "Minako, Makoto, Rei, Ami!?  What's going on?"  He
noticed that Ami carried a dozing Chibi-Usa on her shoulders.  "And Small
Lady?"

  The five beamed up at him.  "We are simply waiting."

  "Waiting?"

  "For The Tradition to renew."

  He gaped at them.  "But how did y--"

  Minako smiled wickedly.  "Come on, my lord (for the benefit of the
crowd), did you think that the cook wouldn't tell all and sundry that her
King had resumed his Sunday cooking activities?  Didn't the usual crowd of
kitchen maids ogling you give you a clue?"

  "But why--"

  Ami giggled softly.  "They all wanted to see.  Everyone.  We all knew
that this was one constant that would never change.  They all needed to
see that . . . that some things *are* eternal.  We all knew you wouldn't
forget."

  And he would never know how many bets had gone through the kingdom
placed over this very point.

  Endymion gazed over the sea of people crowded into the hallways, his
soul soaring at the idea that they all connected their happiness, their
constancy, to the very tradition that he and Serenity, then Usako, had
begun on their first Sunday as a married couple.

  On that day, long ago, he had awoken her with kisses, laying before her
on the bed the most luxurious breakfast that he could manage.  She had
been so enormously pleased, so grandly proud that *she*, Chiba Usagi,
would be served breakfast in bed by her husband, Chiba Mamoru.  That
unabashed look of bliss on her face had convinced Mamoru that he would
continue to feed her breakfast in bed for all eternity if it brought her
so much joy.  He had kept his promise.  And, amazingly, that same
surprised, innocent, child-like joy would leap on his beloved's face every
Sunday.

  And today, after a hellish interlude, he and his kingdom would
experience her joy again.

  Throwing a rakish look over his shoulder that had many women sighing
happily, he boldly strode into his bedroom, leaving the doors open behind
him so that as many as possible would witness this event.

  Serenity lay just as he had left her.  He almost wondered if she *had*
fallen asleep waiting for him, were it not for the grin that edged her
lips as he approached her.

  He set the tray down on the bed, then bent over to kiss her deeply,
as he usually did to wake her.  He began to straighten, only to feel her
slim arms wrap around his neck and bring him back down for another,
hotter, kiss.

  Breathless, he looked down at his smug wife.  "That's against
tradition," he gasped.

  Her eyes twinkled up at him.  "Some changes are for the best."

  "We have an audience," he informed her, looking pointedly at the open
doorway that almost strained as people, still oddly quiet as mice, pushed
to get a glimpse.

  "I know, they are also all outside the balcony, and a few adventurous
children actually climbed *on* the balcony."

  He looked down at her suspiciously.  "And how do you know that, missy,
if you have been ïasleep' in bed?  Did you cheat?"

  She looked up at him blankly.  He snaked one hand beneath the sheets and
delighted in tickling her into submission.  Her tinkling laughter washed
over him like sweet rain.

  "Ahh, Endy, you were taking too long!  Anyway, I could hear the children
giggling," she giggled herself.

  "So, are we going to give them what they want, my love?"

  She sat up, holding the sheet to her neck.  "As always, my love!"

  He bowed gallantly at her bedside and then said, absurdly loud, "YOUR
BREAKFAST, YOUR HIGHNESS!"

  Serenity's eyes clouded wetly as she heard the words he had said to her
on that first Sunday.  Gamely, with tears beginning to edge over her
cheeks again, she prepared for her line.

  Looking over the food that Endymion had prepared for her, she was taken
back to that first time, when waking up in his bed had still been new,
when she had had no aspirations to becoming queen other than those placed
on her by birthright.  She had felt so surprised and honored, so loved and
cherished.  As always, the same emotions, in the same intensity, poured
out of her now as they had before.  It was very easy for her to do her
role, as she couldn't have done otherwise even if she had wanted to.

  She gathered the sheet around her and dove for Endymion's waiting arms,
laughing and crying out the one thing she said every Sunday.  "MAMO-CHAN!"

  It had been what she had said then, and so she said it now.  Her flight
jarred the tray on the bed, and it went crashing, as it always did, to the
floor.  It didn't matter, for they had never, in countless years, actually
ever gotten around to the food.

  At the sound of breaking dishes and clanging cutlery, the masses finally
roared in approval.  The cheering was so thunderous that the palace seemed
to shake with it.  Most had not even heard the sound of the crashing tray,
but simply knew with that first clap, begun by the Senshi, that their
Tradition had been fulfilled.  All was well.

  As always, Endymion tumbled back into bed with Serenity, both unaware
and uncaring of the broken dishes, spilt food, and now thunderous
applause.

  Smiling and surreptitiously wiping at her own happy tears, Minako closed
the door to their bedchamber and the Senshi began to direct the mass of
people away.  This part of the tradition was over and the rest . . . well,
the rest was just beginning.

  But that one, my friends, was a private tradition.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  That's it!  You like?  You don't?  Tell me anyway!
salaices@leland.stanford.edu

  See?  Not a naked Mamo-chan in site!  Between you and me, I think Sidnei
has a little *obsession*  {whisper!}.  Don't tell her I said so!