G Taylor

Fact: In the last provincial election of 2022, only 44% of Ontarians cast votes. Meaning while Ford’s PCs got a mandate with 41% (yes, under 50% of votes were cast for him), that actually represented less than 20% of the province itself.

Are we okay with this? Come on.

As Picard from Star Trek once said, “If we’re going to be damned, let’s be damned for what we really are”.

I know Ford’s not in danger of losing. He has too much momentum amid all the apathy. But this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t vote. Because a minority government would at least keep our local bully in check.

Yes, Doug Ford is a bully. You remember, don’t you?

Ford himself only won the leadership of the Conservative Party in 2018 by 51% over Christine Elliot… who had actually won the popular vote. Then after being elected, in 2019, Ford capped the wage increases of critical provincial employees, including nurses and teachers, at 1% per year (below inflation)… yet MPPs got a 14% pay hike.

And Ford has repeatedly stated he won’t hesitate to use the notwithstanding clause against courts that rule against his government.

Indeed, in June 2021, Ford convened an emergency debate session of the Legislature to invoke that clause, overriding the Charter of Rights and Freedoms to ensure unions wouldn’t be able to spend much money talking about his transgressions. (Seriously, how was that override not a bridge too far?)

Even more recently, Ford’s push to expand alcohol sales outside of the LCBO cost taxpayers an extra several million dollars. For no reason other than he wanted it to happen in 2024 instead of by 2026. (By the way, loss of LCBO sales is one way Ford is defunding the government, the same as when he removed car license fees and gave handouts to parents, see below.)

Doug Ford does whatever he likes, at whatever the cost, and we have to foot the bill.

Ontario, you MUST vote. This is not going to get better. It’s going to get worse.

We don’t even know how much worse, because Ford took the secrecy of his ministerial mandate letters all the way to the Supreme Court on our dime. Moreover, all the Conservative MPs are yet again forbidden from doing any debates this election season (or so I assume if none of 30 different timeslots for a CBC interview worked out), and Ford himself has not spoken to any reporters.

But we can extrapolate. With certain categories in particular.

EDUCATION: In 2019, Doug Ford unnecessarily made the EQAO Chair a full time position. This is the one is in charge of the province wide education testing in Grades 3, 6, 9 and 10. That person (then a failed Tory candidate) did next to nothing during the pandemic (when testing was suspended) while drawing a huge salary. Ford is now adding on more testing, namely a mandatory Grade 10 Financial Literacy test that will be required for graduation.

Note I’m not saying this is a bad idea, I am saying Ford will give as much thought (and funding) to that as he did to destreaming in 2022. Namely, very little. Why, as recently as last year, he was making more cuts to core education funding, with the per student funds down by almost 10% since 2018. Instead of funding education, he gave $200 payouts to parents in 2020. (Sound familiar?)

HOUSING: Doug Ford said in 2022’s campaign that he would build 1.5 million new homes by 2031. The province is nowhere near on track to hit that target, with Ford seemingly more interested in transit this election cycle (ie- removing bike lanes and building tunnels). Yet a study in 2024 found that across Ontario, only 29 homes or apartments were started for every 100 newcomers, putting it at 8th out of all 10 provinces. Alberta of all places seems to be doing better at housing than Ontario.

Ford’s answer? He plans to pass a bill allowing municipalities to clear homeless encampments out of parks, adding (as usual) he is “fully prepared” to use the notwithstanding clause if courts “interfere”.

HEALTH CARE: In 2018, during the election campaign, Doug Ford promised to end “hallway healthcare” in Ontario. In January 2020, before the pandemic hit us, Ford said they had made progress, despite evidence to the contrary. Once we reached 2024, the province had more Emergency Room closures than ever before.

And in a 2025 survey, a majority of those in Ontario (68%) said the situation has deteriorated. The Ontario College of Family Physicians add that 2.5 million Ontario’s have no family doctor, up from 1.8 million in 2020. Four more years of a Ford majority government will not fix this, nor will yet ANOTHER $200 cheque in the mail (oh, and it might bounce).

I won’t even get deeply into how Ford is helping to fund Elon Musk, as Ontario still has a contract with Starlink, which Ford signed in November 2024 (well after he should have known better) and later claimed he would rip up because of tariffs (he has not).

And if you’re sitting there saying you don’t like Ford but don’t know who else to vote for, I’ll offer up the SmartVoting website, which can give you information about your riding: https://smartvoting.ca/

So please, Ontario, PLEASE vote.

Don’t let even less than one fifth of the province decide our fate. Not this time.

We all have to stand up to bullies, including the ones in our own backyard.

ANGEL PASTA: PART EIGHT

After all, Patty knew a lot more about this Epsilon Organization, and would thus be in a better position to know if they were truly acting in everyone’s best interests. It would also be a real test of the Organization’s allegiances, to help her this way.

Beam’s face brightened. “So you DO want to rescue your new love interest? That’s so sweet.”

Angel bristled. “Me and Patty are working together in a professional capacity,” she stated. “I’ll thank you to keep any possible future personal relationship out of this.”

If they were going to be working together on this rescue, a flirty attitude was not something she was prepared to tolerate.

“Of course, of course,” Beam answered. Then she winked.

Angel reached out to grasp Beam’s shoulder, and was only briefly put off when her hand, and then the rest of her arm, passed right through Beam’s supposedly solid body. At the least, this woman hadn’t been kidding about being made up of light beams.

“I’m serious,” Angel said, shaking out her palm. “I gather you’re not from around here, so perhaps you don’t know, but guess what? Affection between females is not exactly mainstream in France in 1963. Or anywhere else in the world.”

Perhaps it was her tone more than her words, but with that Beam pursed her lips, seemingly in thought. “Oh. I admit I… hadn’t considered that.”

Unbelievable. “You were too wrapped up in your own mission to properly read the room?”

“Yes,” Beam answered simply.

Angel rolled her eyes. She wondered if an apology was coming next, but with that, Beam seemed to consider the matter closed. Angel wanted to be upset by this, and yet the blonde hologram also still looked adorably cute, somehow.

“Pardon the question, but how did you even get hired for your job?” Angel challenged.

She suspected nepotism. Maybe whomever had designed Beam had decided to then hire their creation to also be their employee. Without a résumé. Maybe Angel could even move up the chain of command and get someone else to be her contact point.

Beam bit down on her lower lip. “I wasn’t hired. I was more recruited.”

All the red flags came back into position with respect to the Epsilon Organization. “You are working against your will?”

“Oh no,” Beam assured. “Doing this job is ever so much better than how things were for me before.”

“Why? Because you get to have your way with pretty women?”

For the first time, Beam looked uncomfortable. “We are straying from the point.”

“Oh, we absolutely are NOT,” Angel said firmly. “You want us to work together on a rescue? My trust comes with conditions. One now being, knowing who the hell recruited you, and why. Granted, this street may not be the best place for that discussion. We can take this into my van, off to your home base, or to another location of your choosing.”

Beam’s gaze seemed to now be searching Angel’s expression for something. Angel steeled herself to avoid falling for any doe-eyed pleas, as well as to keep her own gaze from searching back. Several seconds ticked by.

“What?” Angel demanded at last.

“It’s interesting. You really do care, Angel,” Beam said, her tone implying it was more a conclusion than a revelation. “Perhaps, for you, I can bend policy.”

Angel nodded. “Fine. Good. If you need to consult with your superiors first, I’ll wait.”

Beam shook her head. “Oh, I have none. I work alone. Which can get… rather lonely,” she admitted, shifting her weight (did holograms have weight?) back and forth from foot to foot.

At least now they were getting somewhere. Isolation could well be a reason for Beam to be not only out of touch, but inclined to jump to using intimate relations as a form of reward.

Angel walked around to open up her van, then gestured in invitation. Hoping that Beam wouldn’t misinterpret her offering up a more private location, given how she’d provided some earlier context.

Beam seemed to understand. She nodded, reaching up to fiddle with her earring briefly before climbing into the back of the van. Angel followed, shutting the door behind them.

“My original world, it was very different from yours,” Beam began, as Angel hunted through her supplies for a boxed juice or something to offer. Only belatedly remembering that Beam was insubstantial, and might not need to drink anyway. So much for being a good host.

“I imagine a world of autonomous holograms would be different,” Angel said, turning back to Beam and sitting on the floor of the van across from her. She had always kept the blonde in view from the corner of her eye, of course. So far Beam was acting on the level.

At that comment, Beam shook her head. “I am unique. My world was populated by humans, much like yours. I presume I was constructed by one of them, and then rejected.”

“Rejected?”

“My first memory is waking up in an alleyway, knowing only my name and basic programming. How to speak, how I can recharge, how much I love only women, and so forth. It is likely that this last is what led to my being discarded in the first place, with a wipe of any prior memories.”

Again, Angel began to wonder if she was being played, but Beam seemed sincere. Well, at least her medical degree had included some psychology classes. “How did that make you feel, Beam?” Angel asked.

Beam looked genuinely surprised by the question, then thoughtful. “Broken. Useless. Undesirable.”

“Did it occur to you that the fact that you were discarded, and not simply disassembled or destroyed, meant that someone somewhere did have an emotional attachment to you?”

Beam’s innocent eyes went wide. “No.” Her lip quivered. “I thank you for that new thought, Angel. So very much.”

“No problem.” Angel adjusted her hairband. Bunny Ears Psychology, sure. “So, you were in a society, being rejected for lesbianism,” she said, inviting further comment after what she judged was enough of a pause.

Beam refocussed. “Oh, I believe you misunderstood. I wasn’t rejected because I loved women. I was rejected because I didn’t love men.”

Angel frowned. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Beam shook her head so vigorously, her hair danced. “Not at all. See, that’s the big difference. On my Earth it was all about free love, regardless of gender. Thus those who only liked one sex, be it male or female, were seen as the strange and unnatural people. For the aromantic, it was a double whammy.”

It took a moment to process that. “So, on your world, everyone was bisexual? Heterosexual people were seen as weird, for not also liking their own sex?”

“Correct,” Beam agreed.

“Huh. Okay then,” Angel said, no longer sure where to go with this.

“We also embraced polyamory,” Beam added.

“Oh. Of course.” That didn’t help.

“And our society was at least fifty years ahead of where you are now,” Beam finished. “Which is why my very existence must seem like a technological marvel to you, though I admit I was hardly conventional technology on my world.”

That was another point Angel had wondered about, but it raised an interesting point. “Okay Beam, so then could you not simply have reprogrammed yourself to love men, in order to fit in?”

Beam lifted her eyebrows. “Oh? Could you not do the same to yourself, to fit into your own society here?” she challenged.

Touché. Angel bowed her head. “My sincere apologies, Beam. For a moment I saw you as tech, rather than as a person.”

Beam smiled. “No apology necessary. I am tech, after all. Which, full disclosure, my world also didn’t like. Some simply saw me as a predictive algorithm. Some, as an escort service.”

“So you got a double whammy too.”

“Yes. Truth is, while I am tech, I am much like a person. You think, whereas I can define new subroutines, adjust my thought processes, and yes, I suspect I could even delve deep enough into my basic nature to love men too. If I had to. However, I also know that this would make me very, very depressed.”

“I see.” They were starting to toe the line into giving Angel an existential crisis about what it even meant to be human, or to experience love.

Beam seemed to sense her unease, and changed the subject. “So one day, I was teleported up to a space station. The Epsilon station. They’d recently lost their commander, and it was through a series of anonymous communications that I learned how they wanted me to serve as her replacement.”

“Anonymous? There were no other staff that you saw?”

“Exactly. And at first I was hesitant, because while it’s true I was shunned on my world, I could still find some who were willing to look the other way, and, er, indulge me. Whereas this station was a mystery, and seemed like it would lead to a life of isolation.”

Angel nodded. “What changed your mind?”

“Partly the mystery itself,” Beam admitted. “With a dash of not wanting to regret passing up my only chance to get away. Then any final reservations vanished once I saw what my first mission would entail.” She smiled again.

Angel immediately saw where this was going. “A pretty woman?”

A blush soon framed the smile. “Yes. But to be clear, removing potentially harmful artifacts from worlds where they were not supposed to be, this was factored in as being beneficial too.”

“All right.” A new thought occurred. “Wait. Beam, do you see all women involved in your missions as potential, er, girlfriends?”

“Yes,” Beam said, without hesitation. “In my society of free love, all people you’re attracted to are desirable companions. So, Angel, if you ever change your mind about me, do let me know.”

“Stop. Beam, you’re not in that society now. Shouldn’t you create a mental setting for just friends, or something similar?”

Beam tilted her head sideways. “I am not certain I understand.”

The job isolation factor was definitely not good for Beam. “There’s women that you may want to simply go out to tea with. To talk about your missions, or about soap operas, whatever. Or perhaps there’s men you might like to talk with, about sports and beer. You understand?”

Beam’s head tilt became even more pronounced, her expression more baffled. “No. Why would I do this?”

“It’s…” Angel rubbed her forehead. There was too much genuine puzzlement and confusion in Beam here for her to want to unpack it now. “Know what? Another time. I’m currently convinced that your Organization, mysterious as it is, did recruit you honestly. Meaning two questions remain.”

Beam straightened her posture. “Name them.”

“First, if you’re truly based on some space station, how is it you even need assistance in tracking down your artifact?”

“My work upgrading the station sensors is incomplete. There may also be some sort of shielding involved here. Our need for assistance on the ground is genuine, believe me.”

Angel did. She supposed there was no way for her to verify that, given her lack of technical expertise, but it’s unlikely that Beam could have bluffed her way through Patty. Plus, she trusted her own empathic ability here.

“Secondly… what is your plan to rescue Patty?”

“For that, you are taking point,” Beam reminded. “This is your environment, not ours. We’re simply passing through, trying to recover this artifact. You tell me what we should do to help.”

Exactly the impartial answer Angel had hoped for. “All right, give me a little time to work it out,” she said. “I don’t suppose you could provide me with a layout of the Legrand mansion?”

“Hmm. Meaning you would have gone to the records department and looked up the building plans yourself, but I stalled you, thus you figure I can make up for it by getting them for you now?” Beam extrapolated.

“Ah. Precisement,” Angel said, chuckling. Impartial, but biased in her favour. Perhaps this alliance would work out after all.

The first thing Angel did was leave an answering machine message for Mimi.

If she and Patty were both caught, they needed someone on the outside who knew of Legrand’s plans involving the jellyfish and the museum. The police not being the best option there, as they would mess up her plans for a rescue.

The second thing she did was devise a couple of options, figuring that charging in with her first idea of recycling the frog leg inspector idea would be reckless and unnecessary. After all, she had never been good at disguises. Though maybe Beam would have tips.

The better option now felt like setting off the fire alarm system of the house. She knew from the floor plans she’d received that they could do it via the kitchen, getting Legrand and anyone else to evacuate. Or at the least, know where in the house they’d be located as they investigated.

If they evacuated with Patty, that would also solve a lot of problems.

The trouble was, if they instead tracked down the deception, there would be a very narrow window of time for her to track down her new friend.

The other alternative was to simply go in a window and sneak around inside. She had managed it once already, without the layout, and Beam had said she could still run interference. This was a lot riskier, and felt more morally dubious, but then maybe she would have time to grab more information about the museum connection.

Angel drummed her fingers on the dashboard. Beam was waiting for her plan. What should she decide?

poll.fm/13417564

I think I may pause things here for a bit, let me know if you’re aware of better web hosting. Poll will be open until at least through March 8th.

As to the other options, had museum investigation been chosen, we would have seen Mimi in person, and they would have learned what that’s about. Had Epsilon backed off, a bunch of Beam’s dialogue would have been with her computer, interspersed with artifact search results. The idea of this being a prequel has been a thing since the new year. We got the rescue, which didn’t quite reach as far as I thought, hence decide on the full plan now. Thanks as always for reading.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART SEVEN

She pulled the chair out of the way, dropped to the floor and crawled into the alcove beneath the desk. She now couldn’t see the main part of the room, as the desk wasn’t open all the way through, but could hear clearly when Julien Legrand entered the room less than a minute later.

She knew it was him, as he muttered, “I’m coming, I’m coming,” on his way to pick up the ringing phone.

“Oui? I am in the middle of something,” Legrand said, taking the call.

Angel had no idea what the person on the other end of the conversation said to that.

“What I am hearing,” came Legrand’s reply after a moment, “is that I am paying you too much. Because I pay you to get rid of any officials who begin poking around in this way.”

Another pause followed, during which it occurred to Angel to hold her walkie-talkie device up and activate it. That way Patty could hear what was going on. Angel reasoned her new friend was smart enough not to think it meant Angel had been captured.

“Non,” Legrand insisted. “If we create more diversions, they will simply look like diversions. The jellyfish have everyone talking about the water. I am hoping to create more of them. This must be sufficient. Simply move faster, and you will have nothing to worry about.”

Angel realized her right leg was starting to throb, bunched up as she was in the small space. She hoped she wasn’t about to let out a noise in pain or irritation.

“Very well,” Legrand sighed. “I will send my men to help out. I am serious though, I now give you twenty-four hours. One of the women poking around town is already threatening to take information to the press.”

Apparently Patty’s threat was being taken seriously. This was good, though also potentially bad.

“I did not say I was concerned,” Legrand said, now irritated. “They are only women, and I should be able to make anything I decide to do to them look like an accident.”

Yes, that definitely wasn’t good. Angel wondered how much of this Patty had been able to hear.

“Fine. Do not call me, I will call you,” Legrand concluded.

At that, Angel expected to hear him drop the phone receiver back in its cradle. It didn’t happen.

“Fine, fine, give me the number,” he said instead, irritation shifting to exasperation.

It sounded like he was writing something on the pad she had noticed earlier, and only after that did Legrand finally hang up.

“So hard to find good help these days,” he muttered. He then picked up the pile of papers that Angel had noted on the desk, dropping them into the still open desk drawer.

‘Ooh, do NOT lock those away,’ Angel mentally willed.

Alas, he closed and locked up the drawer before heading back towards the hallway.

Angel resisted the urge to kick her foot into the desk in frustration, partly so as to not be heard, but more because there wasn’t enough space to do it satisfactorily. She simply balled her hands into fists as Legrand departed, closing the study door behind him.

Angel did her usual count to ten before emerging back out into the room. The small key was no longer on the corner of the desk, so Legrand must have taken it. Angel verified the desk drawer would not open, then glared at it.

She prided herself on being a good doctor, a good investigator… and an honest woman. Which meant her skills didn’t extend to lock picking. Indeed, the very fact that she was in essence breaking and entering here, the open window not withstanding, was still bothering her.

She was not going to get to see those papers.

She kicked the desk. It still felt unsatisfactory.

At least she remained undiscovered. And she had learned more.

[caption id=“attachment_3575” align=“alignright” width=“300”] Distracting jellyfish[/caption]

The ‘Distraction at Sea’ with the jellyfish was indeed attempting to draw attention away from whatever Legrand was truly planning. Which had to be something fairly spectacular, if he wished to garner the attention of the Octopus organization.

So, perhaps she and Patty could work out what this was? But perhaps not.

Angel did another quick search for anything else out in the open that might provide a clue. Including taking a closer look at the articles on the cork board. Alas, while they helped her get a better sense of Legrand himself - mostly verifying that he was full of himself, though also possibly in financial difficulty, which was interesting - that was all.

She did spot hinges on a picture frame, and locate a hidden safe. But it was locked up tighter than the desk drawer, with no hint of the combination anywhere.

Angel wondered about going out to explore another room, perhaps even trying to check out the basement, but it had now been over ten minutes. She was not very sneaky by nature - the bunny ears not making that any easier, she supposed - and reasoned she could only push her luck here so far.

She knew much more than before she had come into the house. That would have to do.

Angel headed for the window, figuring that was her best way out. As she did, she swept her gaze over the room one more time.

Her eyes fell on the notepad near the telephone. Upon which had been scribbled a phone number.

Did she dare?

If so, it was probably best to do it now, from Legrand’s own office, in case they had a way of tracking the call. Not to mention, at this time, it could still be framed as a follow-up to the call she had overheard.

Angel began dialling before she could talk herself out of it.

The phone rang twice on the other end, and then to Angel’s surprise, a woman picked up on the other end. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” she said. Angel didn’t recognize the voice.

“Legrand does not change his mind,” Angel said, neutrally. “But the men he is sending. Did you want them to arrive at your place of business, or at your current location?”

Her question was met with silence.

Surely Angel’s own voice was an unknown here too, but Angel was invoking information only Legrand would have. Was this mystery woman about to call her out? Or was the issue that the question itself was somehow enough to stop the conversation in its tracks?

“I suppose a few people arriving all at once might be seen as suspicious,” the woman said at last. “But don’t send them next door. Stagger their arrival here by a half hour or so.”

Angel now knew this woman was currently next door to her place of business. Was there any way to figure out where that was, without lying like a cheap rug?

“Very well. We could also have them park for a while out front?” Angel suggested.

“Hein? Any car on the street outside the museum at this time of day requires a permit,” the woman objected, this time immediately. “Did no one tell you this? Put Legrand back on the line.”

“You think we cannot fake permits?” Angel shot back, equally fast. “Then you do not get Legrand, you get me telling you that we will do whatever is most convenient for us instead.”

She hung up the phone before there was time for a response.

After that, Angel needed a few deep breaths to compose herself. She adjusted her hairband.

That had been a gamble. But it seemed like their next destination was the local museum.

Angel headed for the window again, but this time she was distracted by noises out in the hall. Specifically, the sound of a male yell, followed by Patty’s voice saying, “That’s what you get for knocking me out earlier. You cannot keep me silent in here forever.”

“We do not need forever. Only until you meet an unfortunate accident,” a man snarled back at her. It sounded like Patty’s former assailant.

“Mon dieu, do not let her bait you,” came another voice. Angel recognized this one as being the man who had claimed to leave her a threatening note at the hotel. So, it was the same two who had been talking outside.

“Then do not let her kick me, imbecile,” the wounded man snarked back.

Apparently Legrand’s goons had decided to capture Patty. Or Legrand had ordered it, now that he had enforced a twenty-four hour deadline. This was very, very bad luck.

Angel flirted with the idea of drawing her gun, then bursting out of the study, to take Patty back by force. But while she’d have the element of surprise, she was on their territory. They would both still have to get off the property. And if both of them ended up captured, there would be no one free who was even aware of Legrand’s plans.

Keeping her gun holstered, Angel held the walkie talkie device back up to her mouth. “I will return for you. Absolument,” she assured her companion.

Angel finally fled out the window before anyone could enter the study.

She edged back along the side of the house, sprinted for the bushes at the back, counted to ten to verify that no one was charging after her, and then left the grounds the same way she had originally gained access, over the fence.

It was only after Angel reached her van that she realized she didn’t know exactly where the museum was in town. Should she try to look it up on a map, or would that take too long? Should she get Mimi to help? Should she wait for Legrand’s goons to head out, and then follow them?

“I would get the authorities, but at this point Legrand has a stronger case against me than I have against him,” Angel grumbled, smacking her palm against the side of her van.

“Yes, the police would be the wrong move here,” chirped a new voice.

Angel spun, as a figure walked out into the open from behind her vehicle.

She was pretty. The woman now standing three feet away was a blonde with impossible hair. It cascaded down as far as her knees, seemingly held in place in part thanks to a blue hairband. Her outfit consisted of a dark blouse, the colour matching a pair of stockings. Though her skirt was blue, to match the hairband. As well as matching her deep, blue eyes.

Innocent blue eyes, yet with a look behind them that hinted at a depth of knowledge far beyond the twentyish years old that she appeared to be.

‘I would date her,’ was Angel’s first thought. Followed immediately by, ‘She’s that Epsilon hologram Patty talked about.’

Angel’s hand went to her gun, though she didn’t unholster it. “You. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

The woman - Beam, if Angel was recalling correctly - clasped her hands behind her back. “Sure,” she said. “Though you should know I’m currently insubstantial, so please don’t waste a bullet on me.”

Angel looked closer at the Epsilon Organization’s representative. Beam seemed solid enough, but Angel had certainly heard more far-fetched claims that later turned out to be true. She relaxed her posture, but did not let down her guard. “Why are you here?” Angel demanded.

“Because you didn’t listen when we told you to leave,” Beam sighed. “And now Patty has been captured. So, with her out of the picture, you have become our best hope for retrieving the artifact. As such, it seemed only polite to at least do an introduction.” She extended her arms back out to the sides. “I’m Beam, of the Epsilon Project.”

“Fine. Know that I am not about to be swayed to your side by a promise of sexual favours,” Angel declared.

Beam smiled adorably. “As much as I hope that your remark is due to my innate sex appeal, I fear it was my earlier talk with Patty that has your mind running on such a track. Still, on the off chance it is both, know that I do find you very attractive as well, Angel. And I would be most willing to entertain you with multiple techniques, even if you are swayed by nothing I say, and instead decide to stubbornly follow your own path forwards at every opportunity.”

Angel felt a heat rising in her cheeks, her gaze darting over Beam’s appearance one more time, despite an attempt to hold her gaze. Patty’s sex appeal felt more organic, whereas with Beam, it somehow felt more engineered. But it was there. “Beam. This is hardly the time for such a proposition.”

“No, it’s not, but you brought it up,” Beam responded petulantly. Now she was visibly pouting. She really was a curious mix of innocence and intelligence. “At any rate, Angel, what I was about to ask is, what do you feel is an appropriate priority for us at this stage?”

“Priority?”

“Epsilon could help your investigation. Or, we could back off and keep observing. We could even see about helping you bust Patty out of Legrand’s mansion. So what is your preference?”

“Hmph. Are you honestly going to do whatever I say?” Angel shot back.

“For now, we are going to try,” Beam answered, seeming sincere. “After all, this is your environment, not ours. We’re simply passing through, trying to recover this artifact.”

That, at least, was a very familiar sentiment for Angel. She had the same methods, passing through an area, trying to help people fix their own problems. Either by giving them a nudge in the appropriate way, or by removing whatever was impeding their progress.

Perhaps this Epsilon Organization wasn’t so bad after all.

“In that case,” Angel said. “I’d say…”

poll.fm/13358357

Had Angel escaped out the window, Patty wouldn’t have been captured, but it was the worst option for them getting information. They would have then needed to get help from Epsilon to learn more. Had Angel gone to the basement, she would have become trapped, shifting things over to Patty… and Epsilon. Since Angel hid, we ended up here.

Thanks as always for reading. Voting will close some time after February 23rd, as leaving it open longer than a week doesn’t seem to make a difference, and it would be nice to get another part out this month. Take care.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART SIX

Angel felt a measure of relief, followed by a pang of guilt over her reaction. “To be clear, it is not that I do not want to spend time with you,” she assured.

[caption id=“attachment_3547” align=“alignleft” width=“198”] PÂTES[/caption]

Patty nodded back, her dark ringlets bouncing by her ears. “I get it. This is all business. For now.” She smiled again, but there was a hint of sadness.

Angel felt like perhaps she should give her new friend a quick hug, or at least a pat on the back, but that felt like it would lead to even more awkward places. “So, which of us should distract?” was all she asked.

“Obviously me,” Patty stated, crossing her arms. “I’m the one who found the information, and you’re the better investigator of the two of us. Besides, I am also still recovering from being hit on the head, and should avoid moving about too much.”

“Oh, I don’t know about the investigation angle,” Angel objected. “Looking into frogs legs would never have occurred to me, after all. However, I yield on the other points, and would add that I am not the best at making up stories, preferring honesty as a policy wherever possible.”

“Compliment accepted then, and thank you for agreeing. We do work well together.” Patty winked. Angel looked to the side and made a show of adjusting her bunny ears.

“Oh,” Angel added. “Also know that I try not to involve myself too directly in a town’s affairs, preferring to stay on the sidelines, moving on once things are resolved. As such, I may simply get a sense of things, perhaps take some photos for evidence, then report back to you.”

As she spoke, Angel reflected on the previous case that had occurred on her way here. The raccoon incident. At that time, she had even had Pierre take the photos, rather than doing it herself. Of course, then it had made sense for both of them to prowl around. Here, less so.

“Ah, unless the Captain is in trouble inside, surely?” Patty protested.

Angel’s gaze was drawn back to Patty. “Oui, there are exceptions, to be sure,” she agreed.

Patty was now nibbling on her lower lip, which was far too cute. Angel tapped her toe on the ground, becoming annoyed with how flustered she was getting. Had it perhaps been too long since she had kissed another woman? She forced herself not to reflect on the matter.

“Euh, so when did you want to head out?” Angel wondered.

It was Patty’s turn to look away, as she pushed herself back to her feet with the help of the table. “Let us strike while the iron is hot. He may not even be expecting me now, assuming I am still passed out, so I can catch him off guard. Make him say something he shouldn’t.”

Angel reflexively reached out to offer a hand before pulling back. “You are certain? Your head is all right? Is there more I can do to make you feel better before we depart?”

Patty chuckled. “Oh, there’s a number of things you could do to make me feel better, Angel. Alas, they would only delay our investigation.”

Angel frowned. “A delay is warranted if your head is causing problems.”

Patty stared directly at her. “Am I really so bad at innuendo? It is not my head that requires your attention.”

“Oh. Of course.” Angel was not certain if she had avoided blushing before, but she was certain she was failing at it now. If only they didn’t have the jellyfish issue to prioritize, this could have been a pleasant holiday.

Then again, if not for the jellyfish, Angel likely wouldn’t have come to this town at all. What a predicament.

“Bon, euh, I shall give you a drive in my van, and we can discuss options on the way,” Angel said, to break the ensuing silence.

Patty nodded. “Let me grab a couple of my communications devices first.”

Their talk remained professional for the duration of the trip to Legrand’s address. Though Angel had taken note of the way Patty had first looked over the interior of her van. Had her eyes lingered on the sleeping bag?

The property of Julien Legrand was a far cry from Patty’s abandoned house down by the shore. His grounds having space enough for two houses, the one building it did present was set back from the roadway, standing two stories high with visible balconies. The area itself looked to be meticulously maintained, with trimmed hedges, a freshly mowed lawn, and no sign of peeling paint anywhere.

To even approach the residence, you needed to call ahead using a speaker at the gate.

“Legrand might not even let me in,” Patty groaned, looking at the setup from half a block away. “Some distraction I’d be then.”

“Tell him if you don’t get your say, in person, your next stop is the press,” Angel suggested. “People with something to hide usually hate that angle. Even more so than the police.”

Patty nodded. “Good idea. So, how much time do you need to find a way in the back?”

“Give me five minutes,” Angel said. “I’ll let you know if we need to change the plan.” She looked down at the walkie-talkie device in her palm, then lifted it to her mouth, pressing her finger against the button. “You can hear this?”

“Loud and clear,” Patty said, adjusting the clip-on earring she was wearing. Apparently, it could work as a receiver. Angel knew there was a drive to miniaturize technology, but this was incredible.

Alas, there was no way for Patty to also reach her, unless they used another set. And Patty carrying a transmitter had felt like it was asking for trouble from Julien.

“Very well,” Angel concluded, putting the transmitter in the pocket of her lab coat. She double checked that her handgun had the safety on, re-holstered it, and reached up to curl her rabbit ears slightly down.

One could argue that Angel was less likely to be seen if she took the hairband off entirely. But one could also argue that hearing a rustling in the bushes, and then seeing a pair of rabbit ears, would make a person less likely to investigate the sound. Besides, Angel was so used to their presence by now that their removal would largely put her more on edge.

She went around to the back of the Legrand property. It happened to run up against a large field, containing a football pitch. The open space would be a problem if anyone was watching out from the upper balconies, but Angel saw no one, and seemingly no one was out in the adjoining yards either.

Angel swiftly vaulted over the five foot tall fence, landing in the shrubs behind.

She counted to ten, risked sending Patty the message “all good”, and at that point - pulling some leaves out of her long hair - crept closer to the main building. The day had become quite overcast by now, which was working in her favour, though there was also a shed and some small trees which helped to provide additional cover.

Angel had just pressed herself up against the steps leading up onto the rear porch when she heard the back door open.

“Mon dieu. I know why you got chewed out,” one man was saying as he emerged. “What with actually knocking that poor woman out. But why ME?”

“Because you didn’t actually deliver your note in person?” came the dry response of a second male individual walking out behind him.

The two men stopped their advance before reaching the edge of the porch area, but Angel was rather concerned that, were they to keep moving and then look down, she was sure to be seen.

The first man snorted. “Funny. I ended up with the gun bunny! What, should I have handed over the note from my boat to hers? She might have shot me in the foot to find out who I was working for. Non, I strategically withdrew, and left her note back in her hotel room. It is FINE.”

“Legrand didn’t think so.”

“Uggh, obviously,” came the response, which Angel now knew had to be from the man who had followed her out in the boat earlier that day. “Sacre bleu, why is our boss so worried about a couple of women poking around? Worst case, we buy them off with pretty dresses or perfume or the like.”

“I do not believe he is worried,” his companion soothed. “He merely wants everything to go perfectly with this operation, so that–”

The second man didn’t get a chance to complete his thought. The back door banged open again.

“That woman you assaulted is now at my GATE,” snarled a man, who had to be Julien Legrand. “Were you seen? Were you FOLLOWED?”

“Impossible,” came the incredulous response. “I left her out cold on the bathroom floor. And I did not see either her friend Mimi, or that new investigator in the area, as I departed.”

“For the sake of your job, I hope you’re right,” Julien said. The door slammed shut with added force.

There was a moment of silence.

“I think I had better listen in to whatever this woman is about to say,” Patty’s assailant decided.

Angel then heard him head back to the house, the door opening and closing once more, and from the double set of footsteps, she concluded that the first man had decided to accompany his companion. She again counted up to ten in the ensuing silence before peeking over the side of the porch. It was empty.

“Well done, Patty,” Angel murmured. “Stay safe.”

In case that first man had decided to wait right inside the door, Angel continued to creep around the perimeter of the house until she saw a half-open window. She quickly climbed inside. It seemed to be a bathroom.

She listened at the door, and hearing nothing, crept out into the hall.

Honestly, she really didn’t enjoy resorting to trespassing this way. But the jellyfish, Pâtes, and possibly Mimi’s father, were all depending on her doing this. Or, that’s what she kept telling herself, at any rate.

She edged along the hallway, in the opposite direction to the back door,

There seemed to be a flight of stairs going down, and basements were always a good place to hide secrets. But they were also dark, potentially dangerous, and a good place to become trapped. Perhaps it would bear investigation later.

A couple of steps away was another door, partly ajar. Angel peeked inside, and then entered. Mostly to get out of the hall, but the desk and bookshelves implied that this was a study of some sorts, which could give her a better sense of Legrand himself.

What stood out immediately was the cork board beside that door, with a number of news articles tacked up, next to names and dates. Angel’s eyes were drawn to one event in specific, an article speaking of Felix’s concert in Paris. The one where she and her friends had thwarted the testing of a mind control device by the Octopus organization.

Was Julien Legrand an operative? Had Angel unknowingly crossed paths with him before?

“Non,” Angel realized, muttering the word aloud as she traced her finger from one article over to another. Based on the scribblings that accompanied them, she concluded that Legrand was not an operative. He had simply heard of the organization, and then gathered this data… to fight against them?

Again, it seemed like no. The tone of his writing implied he was hoping to one day become an operative. Which he somehow felt could be done by engineering his own scheme, to get the organization’s attention.

Was this a scheme involving jellyfish? Angel decided not to extrapolate.

“The Octopus is more likely to kill you for having this information than recruit you,” Angel muttered. She stepped back to take a quick photograph, then hurried over to the main desk.

There was a small key sitting on the corner, above an open desk drawer. The drawer was empty, but on the desk itself were a number of stacked papers. Angel concluded she had lucked out again, Legrand must have been looking them over when Patty arrived.

However, Angel only had time to read the title of the top document, ‘Distraction At Sea’, under which had been scribbled the word ‘ESCALATE NOW!’, before the telephone sitting on the far end of the desk began to ring.

“Zut alors,” Angel cursed, her heart pounding. Even if Legrand was kept busy, one of his assistants was sure to come and answer that call. She had only seconds to decide what to do.

poll.fm/13273119

We got what we got. If you’re impatient for Epsilon characters (or have been aiming to avoid them) know paths are veering that way now, feel free to drop a comment as to any preferences. Thanks as always for reading. Voting will close some time after February 6th, which is when my report cards are due, meaning I can write again.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART FIVE

Mimi had given Angel very good instructions with respect to locating the place, which was where Patty now kept her equipment. The blonde woman with her hair in the ringlets had even offered to come along, however they had no evidence that Patty was in trouble, versus having had become distracted or otherwise occupied. And Mimi needed to return to work at 1500 hours.

Angel had said she could investigate on her own.

As she approached the location, it occurred to Angel that she was insisting on working by herself a lot since her arrival in town. Her general paranoia at work? Might it become an impediment to the investigation?

Angel shook her head, her bunny ears waving lazily back and forth at the motion. No. There had been no need to disrupt Mimi’s routine owing to one failed follow-up. Going alone was practical, nothing more than that.

Angel elected to approach the area with caution.

She parked a couple blocks away, circling around to the shore on foot. There was a large rock near where the earth met the beach, and she crouched and hid there to watch the house for a good five minutes.

It’s not that she thought Patty was necessarily up to anything, but the other woman WAS working with that unknown Epsilon group. Perhaps they were inside watching, and wouldn’t take kindly to visitors, or had set up some sort of perimeter. But Angel saw nothing.

The house itself had suffered some damage from a storm some years back, Mimi had explained. This had led the owner to move away, while also making it difficult to sell the property. So Patty had decided to use it to house some equipment, it’s proximity to the jellyfish situation seen as being potentially helpful.

Angel saw now that the property damage was mostly cosmetic, meaning no structural concerns, though some shingles were missing from the roof. Angel wondered if rain damage was an issue on the inside.

Alas, there wasn’t much cover once you walked past the broken fence which cut across the path leading up to the building. Fortunately, it had been clouding over, and thus Angel felt the shadows on the ground would be of use in obscuring her.

She dashed through the area to the rear of the building like a jackrabbit, her lab coat billowing out behind her.

The back door was unlocked. This made sense, as the abandoned house wouldn’t be well maintained, plus if Patty was there, she would have no reason to lock herself inside. Still, it made Angel uneasy.

She briefly reached for her gun, but then thought better of it and simply pushed the door open.

[caption id=“attachment_3536” align=“alignright” width=“204”] ANGEL RUSÉE[/caption]

Immediately obvious were some binoculars near the large rear window, along with what seemed to be a sketchbook and a number of pencils. After taking a quick glance around the area, and likewise hearing nothing, she went to have a closer look.

Flipping through the sketchbook revealed to Angel that Patty was a decent artist. While perhaps scanning for jellyfish, she’d been sketching the scene outside, or birds, or Mimi. Actually, there were quite a few sketches of Mimi. In various poses.

Angel closed the book, feeling like she was violating Patty’s privacy.

“Hello?” Angel called out, listening for any sort of reaction to her voice. The house remained silent.

Perhaps Patty had simply left to follow up on a lead. Or perhaps she’d been stalked, the way Angel had been that morning on the boat? And then kidnapped?

“Stop being so paranoid,” Angel muttered to herself, hoping the sound of her own voice would calm her.

After all, this was absolutely, positively, not Angel’s fault for wanting to go off and investigate on her own. No way. Patty’s status might have been the same even without her presence. However, it was by being here now, that she could make a difference.

Taking a deep breath, Angel began a proper investigation.

In addition to the sketch book, the room at the back had a small table with a few screws and bolts and some electronic equipment sitting out. Angel had no idea what it was meant to do, so she continued searching the ground floor.

Down a short hallway was the kitchen. There was a small bar fridge which contained some washed fruit and yogurt. Utensils were washed and cleaned in the drying rack, with the counter wiped clean of dust. Patty had evidently been doing her analyses here for a few days, enough to warrant bringing snacks.

There was also a telephone book out on the counter, with a paper next to it.

Angel took a closer look at the paper, which seemed to be an accounting ledger. She wondered how Patty had obtained it. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn’t an original, but a copy, likely Xeroxed. One entry had been circled.

Someone named Julien Legrand had bought a lot of “cuisses de grenouilles”… frog’s legs. A curious thing for Patty to be researching. And of course, while Angel knew not everyone was interested in a vegetarian lifestyle the way she was, she rather hoped that Patty didn’t have a fondness for them.

She looked over to the telephone book. It was open to the page of “Le”. Angel quickly ran her finger down the page to “Legrand”. There was a faint pencil mark there, implying Patty had done the same thing.

Fortunately, Julien was the only Legrand in town; Angel made a mental note of the address. If things didn’t pan out here, that was her next stop.

She progressed out of the kitchen to the living room area in the front. It was mostly devoid of furniture, having only a large couch that the former owner had presumably not bothered to take, and an empty cabinet that might have held plates at one time.

Flattening herself against the wall, she went and peered out of the front window from behind the threadbare curtains. There didn’t seem to be anyone out there observing. But there was another house a short way down the street which could be used as a vantage point.

Angel looked back at the room. There was something here. Something off. It took a moment to register, but it was in the dust.

The entire house had a very fine layer of dust on the floor. Angel had seen a number of scuff marks in it already, where Patty had been moving back and forth. Perhaps wearing different shoes, or perhaps Mimi had also been by on some occasion, as there was more than one set of prints.

But in this room, there was a new set. And drag marks. And the way the dust was disturbed, it was as if someone had been subdued… and then dragged out to the hallway. Angel now unholstered her gun and quietly followed after the drag marks.

They did not go out the front door, as she had anticipated, instead they progressed back down the hall, to a doorway Angel had not yet explored.

She listened at the door, then counted to three and thrust it open, preparing to raise her weapon.

It was a bathroom. Patty was passed out on the floor.

“Mon dieu, Pâtes,” Angel gasped.

She quickly re-holstered her gun and bent down gave Patty a quick once over, to verify that there was no visible injury. It seemed that there would be no danger in moving her. Patty let out a soft moan as Angel’s fingers rested on her forehead, to check for a fever.

The rest of the house remained quiet. Whomever had done this had left… or was perhaps hiding on a different floor of the house. Though she hadn’t noticed the new footprints in the dust going up the stairs.

“Patty?” Angel ventured, pushing the bathroom door closed again. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

Patty simply moaned again.

Angel reached into the pocket of her lab coat, grateful now that she had worn it, with its pockets. She pulled out the smelling salts that she kept on hand.

It’s not that she expected to be knocked out ALL the time when doing her investigations, but it never hurt to be prepared.

“Here, this should help,” Angel said waving them under Patty’s nose. “Take it nice and easy now.”

“Uhhh… wha? Angel… ma sirène…?” Patty murmured. Her eyes opened, and she stared dreamily up at Angel’s face.

Angel couldn’t help but see that expression as absolutely adorable.

“Mmmm, it is you,” Patty murmured. “You came for me…”

Angel cleared her throat. “Oui, euh… t-take it easy,” she repeated, at a temporary loss for words. She hoped she wasn’t blushing in the way that Patty was starting to.

“Oh! Pardon,” Patty apologized, as she became more aware of the situation. She began to sit up, lifting her hand towards her forehead, groaning. And becoming aware that she was holding a paper. Patty peered at it in confusion.

“Allow me,” Angel said. She swiftly reached back into her lab coat to don a surgical glove before taking the page, even as she suspected that she wouldn’t get any fingerprints off of it. “Cut out magazine letters,” she realized. An obvious attempt to avoid handwriting detection. “It says, ‘Mind Your Own Business’.”

“Oh. So I’ve succeeded in annoying someone,” Patty realized. She again struggled to sit up, succeeding now with some help from Angel, before leaning her body back against the sink. “I suppose this means I’m on the right track.”

“Probably,” Angel agreed. “You had best be careful, assuming you wish to continue the case.”

Patty stared at her. “Would this be enough to make you stop investigating?”

“Euh. Non,” Angel admitted.

“Bien. Then me neither,” Patty declared.

Angel couldn’t fault her new friend’s determination. “Did you see who attacked you?”

Patty shook her head, then winced and pressed her hand back to her forehead. “Aie, remind me not to do that again. But non, I was simply walking through the house when I heard a noise behind me. Next thing I know, you are here waking me up.”

“Hmm. It’s nearly 1500 hours,” Angel offered, glancing at her watch. “Do you know how long you were out?”

“Zut, at least a couple hours,” Patty sighed. “I was just going to head to Mimi’s to share my latest clue with the both of you.”

Angel nodded. “About Julien Legrand?” she asked.

Patty stared at her, then laughed, then winced again. “Bon, I am now satisfied that my sexual inclinations are not an open book to everyone. You are simply an amazing investigator, Angel.”

“I saw the ledger and the phone book in the kitchen,” Angel admitted. “Though I admit I have no context for how this man connects to the case.”

“Mmm. The connection is how Mimi’s father has a fondness for frog’s legs,” Patty explained. “After our talk this morning, it occurred to me that they might be a way to bribe him, or keep him quiet. And that, outside of Mimi’s restaurant, there aren’t many places in the area to get them.”

Angel felt perversely pleased to learn that Patty wasn’t interested in frog’s legs herself.

“So,” Patty continued, “I asked Beam - who incidentally came to check on me after my failure to get you to leave the area - whether she could get me some information on whom around here might have bought such an item in bulk. She returned an hour later with that ledger you saw.”

Angel frowned. “Then Beam only provided the ledger, not more information about Legrand himself?”

“Correct. I found the name on it, not them. The Epsilon Project really is trying not to interfere,” Patty added. “Merely accelerate my investigation so that they can obtain the artifact that’s not supposed to be here.”

Angel conceded the point. “Bon, so Legrand was to be your next stop after our meeting… until you were attacked.”

Patty nodded, this time without wincing. “Correct again. In retrospect, it’s possible someone had been watching me since this morning. Waiting for an opportunity to attack. I really haven’t been taking many precautions.”

“Someone also seemed to be following me in a boat this morning,” Angel shared. “I suppose at least in splitting up, we split up their forces.”

“I suppose.” Patty bit down on her lower lip. “Are you certain you do not wish to help me out more directly though? You are so terribly good at all this, turning up out of the blue to rescue me.”

Angel averted her gaze, pretending it was a necessary move to adjust her bunny ears. This was not the time to be swayed by a pretty face. Even if it could be so, so pretty. “We shall see what transpires,” she stated. “Though, for now, I do believe it IS best for us to pursue this latest lead together.”

She looked back to see Patty’s beaming face, though the other woman almost immediately attempted to adopt a more neutral expression. “Of course. Yes. I thank you for assisting me even temporarily, Angel. Help me up?”

With a bit of assistance, Patty got back onto her feet, and Angel helped her out to the kitchen and into a chair. All the while listening for signs that someone might still be hiding in the house, but she heard nothing.

“So,” Angel said. “Did you have thoughts on how to handle this Julien Legrand?”

“Well, I’m not sure we should approach him directly,” Patty admitted. “As the captain may be in trouble, and could be used as a hostage. Which means gaining access to his house another way.”

“One of us could approach directly, to distract, as the other looks for clues,” Angel offered. “After all, they likely believe we are still operating separately.”

“There is that,” Patty said. “And I do have a device that would let us remain in communication. But I’m not certain I like the idea of us splitting up again.”

“Alors. We could both go off the wall, posing as two health inspectors. Following up on a bad batch of frog’s legs,” Angel suggested with a smile. Patty laughed at that.

(Alors, what is the plan?)

poll.fm/13213352

Had Patty been in trouble, she would have been taken hostage by the shady villains, a group possibly led by the Captain himself. Had Patty been fine, Mimi would have remembered something, sending Angel to find the Captain, where she would have encountered Patty, who had been consumed with following her own lead.

Thanks again for reading. Voting will close some time after Jan 22nd, I hope to have another part out this month.)

It doesn’t feel right not having a post at all in December, so here’s a quick round-up of where we’re at as we depart 2023. (If you’re wondering why I’m not posting a serial entry this month, where have you been?)

THE GOOD

The Accidental Time Travelers Collective Volume 2 came out earlier this month, and I have a short story in that once again this year, “Plan V”. (If you missed it, Volume 1 came out December of last year, and included my story “Free Will”.) There are both new and returning authors in this second anthology.

I pulled my story together in August, before school resumed, and managed to keep up with editing requirements as I yet AGAIN went through the toughest school term to date.

I also completed my 13th annual Christmath Parody, “Inequalities” this month, which was going to be delayed, then came out on time for all the wrong reasons. (see below)

I’ve spent a bunch more time on Mastodon in 2023, where there’s a supportive writing community, and I also joined BlueSky, which I look at occasionally.

I think that’s it for the good.

THE BAD

My new serial, “Angel Pasta”, which began in September, has not done well at all. It started in a promising way, with 15 views and 3 votes, but exactly one month later, Part 3 had only 6 views and 1 vote. I extended the time limit for a full month to no avail.

Part 4, which went up at the end of November, then had literally only 1 view for over 20 days. It got its second view and it’s first vote on December 19th, which honestly wasn’t enough motivation for me to do anything with it. Apologies if you’re the one voter who’s since been waiting.

I’ll still finish it, I always do, but what’s the point?

After over a decade of this site, I can’t get more than two people to care about my interactive serial writing. (I also feel like the second view was the first person coming back, since I said the next part would be “after Dec 20th”.) What’s wrong with me?

Related, March 2023 was my worst month for pageviews in 2023, at only 63 across 400+ posts. Then April, May and August were all below 100. The best month was way back last January, when I got 680 views. Possibly due to Volume 1 of the short story… but then almost no one stuck around? I suppose that’s the cynical view.

Motivation is lacking all around, I suppose. How does a person know when it’s time to give up? Any suggestions for what I might do instead?

THE UGLY

I’ve been dealing with Covid-19 over the holidays. Tested positive the afternoon of Dec 24th before I was going to meet the in-laws, and it hit me like a truck late that night. I likely caught it at school, despite how I masked with an N95 every day.

What’s followed has been a week spent in the basement, next to an air purifier on Turbo with a window cracked open, in the hopes that I don’t spread it to my wife or daughter.

So far so good on that front, at least. But it wrecked our travel plans and I’ve mostly experienced my daughter’s 5th Christmas by proxy. At least now I don’t get winded climbing the stairs as I did the middle of last week.

I’d say this has afforded me lots of time to write, except knowing almost no one’s reading my work, it really didn’t feel like there was much of a damn point there. Though I did finish the ChristMaths parody on time, as referenced above, because why not.

It got six likes on Facebook, which isn’t bad considering I barely post anything there any more. Why do I even.

Sorry if this post became a downer. Partly I hope to make your life seem better by comparison, as always.

THE COINS

I posted about this in September, but you probably missed it as I was introducing the new serial too.

A reminder, to end 2015, I had 42 coins from that year. During 2016 I got 37 minted coins (some in BC). During 2017 I got 20 coins dated that year (some before June). During 2018 I got 21 coins minted, during 2019 I got 17 coins of that year, then pandemic.

During 2020 I got one, plus a quarter to start 2021, so calling it two.

In 2021, there were also only two (and again the quarter might have been the start of February 2022, I don’t recall). Conversely, in 2022, I started getting current quarters in MAY. By the end of the year, I had 10 coins (half were quarters). But I think the death of the Queen put the halt on things.

For 2023, I’ve had one coin, a two-nie, still with the queen on it.

There are apparently black “goth” two-nies commemorating the Queen floating around, but I have yet to see one. Likewise a small number of 2023-dated coins with the King started circulating this month, but again, nothing I’ve seen.

And so, that’s been the year.

Another year of questioning why I still write.

It’s not like I couldn’t be using the time for something more productive.

I don’t know, I’ll get back to it, I always seem to, perhaps because I can’t take a hint.

I do hope your year has been, if not positive, at least full of bright spots you can focus on. Me, as noted, I do have the short story, and my daughter (with the yearly calendar I put together of her too), along with the fact that I haven’t yet infected her with a debilitating disease, which is something.

Take care, hope to see you visit my site in 2024.

ANGEL PASTA: PART FOUR

“I thank you for all you have told me,” Angel said. “Know that I am still not leaving, but for now, I will not impede whatever actions you and this Epsilon group are taking either.”

Patty fidgeted. “Oh. You are not interested in perhaps going all in, and helping us? I’m sure I can convince Beam of your good intentions.”

Angel smiled. “Interested, perhaps. But no. First, I must find out more on my own.”

After all, Epsilon could be playing the long game in terms of influencing her, and she wasn’t about to walk into that trap. They were going to have to make more of an effort to get at her.

Patty sighed. “Ah, bien. I suppose that will have to do. It was nice talking with you, at least.”

“Agreed. And if I may, I would like to request two things,” Angel added, leaning forwards and resting her arms on her knees. When Patty nodded, she continued. “I would like a way to contact you. It seems only fair, as you know where I am staying tonight.”

Patty brightened visibly. “For sure. I am staying with my friend Mimi,” Patty said. She gave the address.

Angel nodded. “Thank you. As to the second thing, I would appreciate an introduction to this Mimi LaFleche. She likely has information about the area, via her father or otherwise, which would be helpful for my own investigation. And unlike so many others in town, she’s motivated to talk.”

Patty thought longer about that one, but then nodded. “I am not certain what she might be able to tell you that I cannot, but perhaps that is the point. Very well. She has a break at work today from 1300 to 1500 hours, you could come by the house this afternoon.”

“Excellent.”

Angel rose from her chair at that, and Patty followed suit, sensing that their discussion was over.

“Do be careful,” Patty added, even as Angel reached out a hand. “I would hate to see any harm come to you.” Patty took her palm and they shook.

“Always,” Angel assured. “You take care as well.”

With that, the two ladies parted ways, Patty giving one last look over her shoulder before Angel closed the hotel room door.

She was being followed.

Angel had decided to take the rest of the morning to have a quick look around the area of the jellyfish swarm. She had not done so yet in part because the boat rental prices were steep, and in part because she had not thought it necessary. But if some mystery artifact was involved, perhaps an inspection was warranted.

There was a chance she would spot something out of the ordinary.

She had opted for a small, slower motorboat for ease of navigation. While she might have enough strength to row for a short time, she did not want to cramp up and become adrift.

There were a few other boats out on the water as she left, fishing boats still attempting to bring in some wares, one half full tourist boat, and some passenger boats either out for the day or heading up the coast. But the blue boat with the overhead canopy that left its occupant(s?) in darkness was definitely keeping an eye on her.

It helped that she had read the map incorrectly and had started out by going the wrong way. The blue boat had followed her when she made the turn back toward the proper jellyfish location. It was now idling some distance away.

Angel wondered what they were hoping to accomplish.

Was this a member of the Octopus organization? Was it someone from the Epsilon organization instead? Or perhaps they were small time thugs noticing an unaccompanied woman? The occupant could, Angel reflected, even be Patty herself, though that seemed unlikely.

[caption id=“attachment_3575” align=“alignright” width=“300”] Jellyfish. Are they the antagonist?[/caption]

Busy speculating, she stared at the jellyfish swarm without really seeing them. Though she did note that the bioluminescence, which one report had said was occurring at strange intervals, here simply seemed random.

She supposed she might have caused a disturbance to the water upon her approach, altering their behaviour, though she had been trying to keep her distance. At any rate, she was seeing nothing unusual.

Diving might be a future option to consider. As long as she was protected from jellyfish stings, and no one attempted to make off with her boat while she was down there. (Is that why the other craft was watching her? Waiting for her to dive?) However, she would want to call her friend Jean-Michel Lestrange for some tips before such an attempt, as he was a proper dive expert.

Angel turned the boat engine back on, and vectored in the direction of the docks.

However, once she seemed committed to that heading, she abruptly turned her boat to aim directly for the mysterious blue one.

That boat spun in place, before fully opening up its engine and heading away. Effectively confirming it wasn’t Patty, who wouldn’t be so rude. Angel also suspected random thugs might have panicked at her approach, or otherwise allowed her to get closer, but there was no way to be sure. So, an Organization?

Angel attempted to catch up, but the other boat had a higher top speed, and she lost it as it executed a curve, disappearing behind a much larger ship. She did get that the name on the bow had been something like ALPHA or ALEPH, though hadn’t approached close enough to be sure.

Something else to ask about around the docks, she supposed.

Angel reached Mimi’s house promptly at 1pm. The house wasn’t a large affair, nestled in between two similar looking structures, but it had two floors with at least a few rooms on each. Plus the grounds were large enough for a small garden, which was fenced in next to a toolshed.

She opened the gate and walked up, both ringing the doorbell and then knocking, but no one seemed to be home.

It was as Angel was heading back down the front path that a blonde with her hair in ringlets made the turn at the sidewalk to approach. She gave Angel a wave. “Hello,” she chirped. “Nice ears. You selling lucky rabbit feet or something?”

“No,” Angel said dryly. “I was looking for Mimi Lafleche.”

“Ahhh. Look, if this is about a debt, I haven’t seen her, but will pass on the message.”

“It is not about that, it is about her father.”

“Mmmm.” The blonde gave that one some additional thought. “Okay, I’m Mimi. Come in.”

As Mimi walked past her, pulling a key out of her handbag, Angel gave her a similar once over to what she had done with Patty that morning.

A white long sleeved blouse with a dark skirt, which had on it a flour stain that stopped abruptly, implying the presence of an apron there earlier in the day. Moderate build, not too curvy, and it seemed Mimi had strong arms. Which could be needed to carry trays of food. She had sensible shoes, no jewellery to speak of, a hint of makeup, and of course those ringlets.

Angel was very ambivalent about ringlets in hair, though she now wondered whether Patty had the two curls on either side of her face as some effort at pale imitation.

“I gather you’re the woman Patty was going to see this morning,” Mimi remarked as she unlocked her door. “She mentioned someone with bunny ears was poking about, looking into the jellyfish.”

“Oui,” Angel confirmed. She frowned. “Yet there was no mention of my dropping by at this hour?”

“Oh, haven’t seen her since breakfast,” Mimi said. “She’s probably out buying parts for one of her electronic gizmos. I’m hoping she can make something that will deal with our sea life problem, you see.” She walked into the house as she continued to speak. “Patty really is good with electrical things.”

Angel’s frown deepened as she realized she hadn’t really asked Patty about any of her hobbies or other specialities that might have made her a recruit for the Epsilon Project, aside from her being a lesbian. Rather short sighted of her. Even rude.

And yet, personal details of the locals were not the reason for her visit to this town. Right? It wouldn’t do to get too familiar, Angel rationalized.

She followed Mimi inside and closed the door behind her. The hallway featured an archway on one side into a living room area, while a set of stairs ascended on the other side. Mimi took neither path, striding down the hallway into what turned out to be the kitchen.

“You’ll pardon me,” Mimi said as she pulled open the fridge. “My plan is a drink and a quick siesta before returning to work. I will, of course, attempt to clear up any issues with my father in the process.”

“Bien,” Angel said. “Then I will be brief. First, do you know of anyone who might want to frame your father for what is going on now?”

“Hmm, aside from me?” Mimi said with a half smile. She produced a bottle of white wine and went to get a glass.

Angel stared. “You willingly implicate yourself?”

Mimi shrugged. “Might as well be up front about it. Dad doesn’t approve of my dating the owner of the restaurant where I work, you see. It’s more about the power imbalance than Louis himself, but still. I think that’s why he visits town, to check up on us.”

“Ah. And you would rather he did not visit.”

“More like I would rather he not poke into my private affairs when he does so,” Mimi clarified, as she placed a wine glass on the kitchen counter and reached for the bottle. “I enjoy talking with him, but would prefer a topic like jellyfish, or frankly anything other than my personal life decisions.”

“But then, if you want him distracted, why ask your friend Patty to clear up the situation?”

“I asked her to look into it,” Mimi corrected. “Because I thought he might be implicated. That’s not the same as clearing it up. Also, you asked who would frame my Dad, all I’m saying is me or Louis might have a motive to keep him away.” She had a sip of the wine.

There was definitely more to Mimi than met the eye, Angel decided.

“Very well,” Angel said. “Anyone else?”

Mimi seemed to consider it. “That head of tourism, Jules, is definitely not a fan after this. And the dock master Vesso sometimes loses his patience with Dad over the attitude he has. There’s perhaps a couple of the other boat captains who have had a run in with him. And the local priest dislikes his tendency to swear. There’s no one else of consequence that I know.”

Angel nodded. “Now then, might any of them have tried to get him out of the way before the jellyfish arrived? Or do you know for a fact that he is, indeed, simply docked somewhere else up the coast?”

Mimi stared, then pointed at Angel. “I like you. We never considered a kidnapping to prevent him from self-advocating.” She took another sip of wine. “And I guess there is no way to know for sure. He did leave with his boat a few days before the swarm arrived, but perhaps someone got ahold of him at sea. I haven’t heard from him either way.”

The revelation seemed to trouble Mimi, Angel decided, after attempting another of her empathy readings. It seemed like the other woman did care for her father, even if she wanted him to pry less into her love life.

“Very well. Are there any particularly good places where one could hide out in town?” Angel continued.

Mimi stared. “You think he is being held captive here in town?”

“I think there are many possibilities,” Angel said. Such as how the captain could be a prisoner, willing or otherwise. Alternatively, the entire jellyfish affair could be a ruse to have people looking at the sea and talking about the captain, instead of noticing something else happening on land. She did not elaborate for Mimi.

Mimi set her glass back down. “There are some hiding places. Patty is using one right now for her equipment. Do you think she could be in danger there?”

It was Angel’s turn to feel troubled. “Danger? What makes you say that?”

“You indicated that she was going to tell me of your visit here. She did not. It could be because she became distracted, but… could something sinister have occurred?”

Mimi had a point. For that matter, by insisting on staying in town, had Angel unwittingly brought the wrath of the Epsilon Project down on Patty? Was Patty in trouble, and was it partly her fault?

Angel placed her hands on her hips. “Mimi, could I trouble you to tell me where Patty’s equipment hiding place is located?”

poll.fm/13042620

The new poll will be open until mid-December January 6, didn’t even get a vote until Dec 19. Related, should Mimi come along when Angel leaves? Consider a comment if you have an opinion. I hope to have another part out before the end of the year. The annual ChristMaths special will come first, on my other site. Thank you for reading!

ANGEL PASTA: PART THREE

“Bon,” Patty said at last. “There is a mysterious organization attempting to recover an artifact.”

Angel lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? Are they using the jellyfish to do it?” she mused, when Patty didn’t volunteer anything else.

“Non, I do not think so,” Patty said after a moment. “I think the jellyfish came about because of the artifact.”

“But you’re not sure? Sounds like all the more reason to investigate,” Angel pointed out.

Patty sighed. “I am. And will continue my efforts. But this organization, who call themselves Epsilon, they do not want you involved as well.”

Angel hmmmed. That certainly felt suspicious. “Why not?”

“I do not know. But when I asked Beam, she said I should get rid of you.”

Angel lifted her other eyebrow. “Oh. And thus you want me to leave town so that you do not have to kill me instead?”

Patty visibly flinched, her face paling. “Hein? Ah, non, non! Beam meant for me to send you away, I did not mean to imply we wished to… dispose of you.” She shuddered. “I do not think I could even attack someone else, let alone kill them.”

[caption id=“attachment_3547” align=“alignleft” width=“198”] PÂTES[/caption]

“I see.” Angel brought her hand back to the table, tapping her fingers lightly as she tried to get an emotional read on Patty. It was a skill she had been developing over the years.

Patty’s panic over having to assault someone appeared genuine. Thus she was unlikely to be a secret agent or someone with military training. Angel was secretly pleased by that, even as she wondered how Patty would feel upon learning Angel herself had shot at and injured people, albeit non-lethally.

Yet there was something more about this situation… romantic feelings? Towards her? Patty definitely seemed to be into other women, but that did not negate the possibility of a romantic attachment to a man. Perhaps she was even connected to Jules? Angel needed more data.

“You have not been involved with this Epsilon organization long,” Angel probed, after a moment.

“I have not,” Patty admitted.

“Yet you sought them out?”

“Non, she– er, they found me.”

She? Of course. There it was. “Ahh. This Beam, she is pretty, yes?”

Patty’s cheeks coloured. “Yes. And it’s true that I do not meet many other queer women. But I don’t see how that is relevant to– ahh, zut alors, you are playing me like a cheap violin!” Patty dropped her croissant on her plate and turned away, staring towards the ground.

Angel quickly reached her arm across the table, her palm out. “Non. Not cheap. Never cheap. And for the record, you are very attractive, Patty. My flirting is genuine, and I would like be able to concentrate on it. If only I weren’t also concerned with this situation in town, and how it relates to your mysterious organization.”

Patty glanced back up at her, then again to the ground, the fusilli-style ringlets of her hair bouncing merrily on either side of her face. Angel remained still, her hand open in a silent invitation.

It took at least a minute, but Patty finally sighed. “Angel, I have already said too much.”

“And yet, I am not leaving. So. In for a penny, in for a pound? If it makes you feel better, I am an independent contractor,” Angel offered.

Patty again looked sidelong at her, then tentatively smiled, and reached out towards Angel’s outstretched palm. “I am a fool, falling for a pretty face again, but you saying that does make me feel better,” she admitted. “Given how Beam’s main concern was the attentions of some octopus group.”

Angel felt her heart rate increase at that mention, though she endeavoured not to let her alarm show on her face. She had dealt with operatives of the Octopus before, and was less than thrilled at the prospect that they might become involved here as well. Taking in a slow breath, as the other woman’s fingers slid in against her own, she reassuringly squeezed Patty’s hand.

“Of course,” Patty continued, “if you were part of some evil organization, I’m sure you would lie about it. Or perhaps not know that the organization itself was evil. So I’m sure I am being very naive by simply trusting y–”

“Pâtes,” Angel cut in, deliberately using Patty’s given name. “I believe our discussion has reached a point where it should no longer continue out in public.”

Patty’s red lips clamped shut.

Angel squeezed at Patty’s hand. “There is no need for concern. That said, where would you feel more comfortable talking? There is my hotel room, or my van, which like is my mobile home.” She didn’t even suggest the possibility of not talking about it.

And Patty certainly seemed to want to keep talking. “Your hotel,” she said, with barely any hesitation. “In your van, you could tie me up and drive me off to who knows where.”

“Fair enough,” Angel agreed. “Though for the record, I only tie people up if they are being very naughty.” She checked herself, as a particular scenario occurred. “Or perhaps by request.”

Patty stared at her. “You are absolutely une sirène,” she concluded. Alluding to the legendary seductive mermaids of Greek mythology, who lured in all ships that passed by.

Angel simply smiled, accepting the compliment. They two women rapidly finished their breakfast and left the cafe.

Angel’s hotel room was a simple affair, a single bed with a desk and nightstand. On the desk was a lamp and a telephone to reach the front desk, while near the bed was an unused ashtray, and a small clock radio.

Upon their arrival, Angel made a point of re-locking the door, unholstering her gun, and double checking that the safety was on before placing it on the desk. She then took off her lab coat and went to turn on the radio, allowing light classical music to play. That would serve to confound any listening devices that might have been placed in the room.

There was no reason to think she was being bugged, but in her experience, a little paranoia never hurt. She kept the room curtains closed.

Patty spent a short while simply staring at the gun before glancing around the room, perhaps trying to get a sense of Angel’s personality. But Angel had kept most of her belongings in her van.

Then Patty’s cheeks coloured, so Angel followed her gaze. Belatedly, she spotted that she had merely kicked her clothes of the previous day into a corner of the room, rather than putting them back into her suitcase.

She was reminded of the time her suitcase had burst open in a Greek airport, scattering all of her clothing across the floor for anyone to see. And she hadn’t even been there at that time.

Fortunately, Angel was either able to hide her own embarrassment, or Patty didn’t care to acknowledge it. The dark haired woman ended up taking a seat on the edge of the bed, with her back to the clothing pile.

Angel sat down at the desk instead, wanting to give Patty space. She belatedly moved her gun further away, so that it wasn’t immediately within reach.

Patty adjusted the large black bow in her hair. “So. Where were we?”

“It may be better if you start back at the beginning,” Angel suggested. “This Beam woman approached you about her organization, did she?”

Patty nodded. “Yes. Okay. See, I am a close friend of Mimi LaFleche. She’s the daughter of that sea captain you’ve been asking about around town.”

Angel nodded back. “Right. The one who had threatened the job of Jules, the town’s head of tourism.”

“Correct. Don’t think anything of that, by the way. He gets in these moods, threatens people, swears a bunch, but he doesn’t generally follow through. He’s a nice guy deep down. It’s why he docks in our port every so often, to visit his daughter.”

“I see. They did not grow up around here?”

“Non, we all lived up the coast. Mimi got a job in the city here, that’s why she moved. Well, that and the hunk of a guy who runs the seaside restaurant, to use her words. They’re now dating.”

Angel drummed her fingers once across the desk as she regarded Patty. There was some tension there, as the other woman spoke. “So. You love Mimi, but she is very heterosexual.”

Patty flinched anew. “Sacre bleu, how do you DO that?” she said, aghast. “Is it that I have become so sexually frustrated that my love life is an open book to every other queer woman in my vicinity?”

Angel quickly held up both hands, palms open. “Non, non. My apologies. I merely recognized the pain, and felt it could be connected to why this Beam approached you, as opposed to Mimi herself.”

Patty stared at her, then slumped. “Maybe. See, Mimi asked me to look into the jellyfish situation, as she’s concerned about her Dad being implicated. I agreed, of course - I’d do anything for Mimi - and the swarm is kind of keeping me from lounging on the beach while on vacation anyway. I figured my investigation is why Beam found me. But perhaps I was easier to seduce.”

“It was merely a hypothesis,” Angel assured her.

“No, no, it makes sense,” Patty said. “Because Beam said her reward for my helping out Epsilon would be… ahh… that is, Beam said I was very beautiful and worthy of love and so when this was over we might, euh…”

“Speak in tongues?” Angel offered at the hesitation.

“Mmm! Exactly,” Patty said, visibly relieved by the euphemism. “She even claimed to be programmed specifically for that purpose.”

“Understood,” Angel assured. She frowned. “Wait, no. Programmed? What does that even mean?”

“See, that’s the other thing,” Patty said. “Beam isn’t human. She says she’s a hologram. And she proved it. That’s how I know all of this isn’t someone pranking me.”

“Back up. What is a hologram?”

“Well, while she LOOKS like an attractive twenty-something blonde with hair down to her knees, wearing a blue hairband with blue earrings, a blue skirt and cute blue shoes, complimented with a dark blouse and dark stockings wrapped around a set of killer legs… you can’t touch her. A hologram is somehow a technological ghost. My hand passed right though her, and she phased right through solid objects.”

Angel found she could only stare.

“Oh, but she assured me her state could become solid, temporarily,” Patty added. “For my reward.”

“Bon, let’s… set rewards aside for a moment,” Angel said, gesturing sideways as she found her voice. “You’re saying this woman was - is - some sort of technological being? But then, who controls her?”

“She controls herself, supposedly,” Patty said. “She said she was an autonomous hologram.”

“I see,” Angel said, not exactly convinced.

Patty shrugged. “I guess if she was being controlled, she wouldn’t know. Or wouldn’t say?” Angel’s companion pursed her lips. “Damn it. Angel, am I too naive? I tend to take people at face value unless they’ve given me a reason to believe otherwise.”

“You haven’t seen some of the things I’ve seen, that’s all,” Angel said. She realized then how this supposedly holographic woman was becoming a distraction. Perhaps a deliberate effort on the part of that Epsilon group, to divert attention. “Never mind. Explain more about the organization. You mentioned an artifact?”

Patty nodded. “Correct. There’s something in this area that’s not supposed to be here. Epsilon, they came here to retrieve it, all the way from some other world. But they were unable to pinpoint its exact location. That’s why they wanted my help, as they need to get out it of here before that octopus organization can get involved.”

Angel’s fingers tapped on the desk. Patty seemed absolutely sincere in everything she was saying.

As to the Epsilon organization, they had definitely done their homework, in not wanting to attract undue attention to the area. Perhaps that was even why they hadn’t wanted Angel to stick around? As surely some operatives of the Octopus were checking in on her from time to time. And maybe Epsilon knew that.

Still. That didn’t mean this new organization or their mystery technology could be immediately trusted.

Angel realized her next choice was clear.

(Actually, it’s not clear at all, is it? So you get to help decide.)

poll.fm/12903060

UPDATE NOV 10: We’ve had only one vote so far, and I’m dealing with midterm report cards. Thus plan is to have another part out before month’s end, but you have at least another week to increase our vote count.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART TWO

Angel calmly replaced her teacup in its saucer before squinting back at him. “Wait, what the–”

“This captain was at fault for mooring his boat too long, and not listening to our dock master, Vesso,” Jules continued, cutting her off. “Vesso is a friend of mine, so I interceded, as I happened to be in the area.”

As he paused, Angel stared. “Why are we talking about your personal problems?”

“Because when I insisted that this captain leave,” Jules continued doggedly, “he glared at me, pulled on his beard, pointed his pipe my way and said he hoped that I lost my job. And here we are, with my job in jeopardy because of all those jellyfish disrupting our city’s tourism industry. You see the connection, surely.”

Angel began to regret her plan of using the town’s head of tourism as her first source of information. On the other hand, she now understood why he had cleared his schedule to meet with her on short notice. By now, any others he’d shared his theories with had probably given up on making any sense out of them.

Still, she had seen some weird things in her life up to this point. Best to rule out the curse angle entirely before looking for a more mundane explanation.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I think my marriage is falling apart,” Jules sighed.

Angel resisted the urge to facepalm. “I meant about the captain,” she clarified. “For instance, who was he?”

“Oh! I have no idea,” Jules admitted.

[caption id=“attachment_3536” align=“alignright” width=“204”] ANGEL RUSÉE[/caption]

Angel tilted her head in such a way as to make one of the bunny ears on her hairband twitch. A skill she was inordinately proud of. “I need a name. Ship name. Ship records. Something.”

“Vesso would have a lot of that,” Jules assured her. “But he won’t release them to me because he doesn’t believe that this captain is linked to the jellyfish. He must be under their influence somehow. So, maybe someone else at the docks?”

“Mmm hmm, I see,” Angel said. There were so many other more plausible options. She took another sip of tea as she considered where to go next. Seemed best to frame any inquiry with this captain in mind. “Look, Jules, is there any source of jellyfish nearby, which this captain could be using?”

“Not that I’m aware. It’s sorcery, I tell you.”

“Yet… cloning ray technology, perhaps? Portal generator? Transmogrification?”

Now Jules was staring. “Those seem like very far fetched ideas.”

“Mmm hmm. You’d be surprised.” Angel leaned back in her chair. This was going nowhere. “Fine. I’ll be in touch.”

Jules nodded, leaning forwards eagerly. “Absolutely. Let me know if I can be of any further assistance.”

“Of course.” Angel gave him a little two finger salute, and headed back towards her van.

She had planned to head to the beaches, but she supposed the ship yards was an angle worthy of a quick look first. And it was probably best to do that now, before word of her arrival spread. Not to mention people might be getting tired this late in the day, thus more prone to letting something slip.

She double checked the map she had picked up of the area, and drove off.

To be clear, the unexpected arrival of a swarm of jellyfish into a Mediterranean beach area was not without precedent. It generally depended on water currents and a number of other factors. For instance, the summer, and higher temperatures. Overfishing could also increase the amount of plankton in an area, leaving a food source for jellyfish.

Angel had researched all of that at the library before setting out.

However, she also knew from her research that jellyfish were more likely to be present in August, not June, that the sheer number of them remaining in one place for so long was unprecedented, and in this case, they seemed to be flashing their luminescence at strange intervals. Enough to warrant an investigation.

And a number of fishing boat captains knew this was a strange circumstance too.

“I don’t know why they’re still floating out there. They’re going to kill all the fish,” one captain grumbled at her.

“They’re clogging the nets,” another sighed. “I don’t see how this could be of benefit to anyone.”

“Yeah, I heard about that disagreement,” a deckhand mused, when Angel brought up the incident with Jules. “Not sure who was really at fault, though I haven’t seen that captain around since the jellyfish came. I think he travels up and down the coast? No, I don’t know his name.”

Vesso himself was not very forthcoming.

“If there’s an issue, fill out the appropriate forms in triplicate and get back to me in two days,” he said, gesturing at the stacks of paper near his desk. “At that point I’ll take it under advisement.”

As tempting as it was to get a peek at Vesso’s records some other way, this wasn’t an emergency situation. In such cases, Angel preferred to go through the proper channels, at least to start.

She filed her request for information, based on the shaky supposition that she was an investigator, and this captain might know about the jellyfish, as he had not been seen since their arrival.

She slept in her van that night, and had a look along the beaches the following morning.

They were mostly deserted. Some jellyfish had washed up, and from what she could tell, they didn’t look out of the ordinary. She found a starfish that had washed ashore as well, and tossed it back into the surf.

By that afternoon, word was starting to get around that a redhead wearing bunny ears with an affinity for animals was asking questions. Angel rather hoped that this would prompt people with information to seek her out, and so she rented a hotel room for at least a couple of nights, in order to be more easily found.

Of course, the other thing her notoriety was liable to do was make anyone who was behind the scheme more wary. Angel tried to keep an eye out for anyone who might be observing her activities.

Granted, she knew all too well that her ability to charm others far outweighed her general alertness skills, but it felt important to make the effort. She also tried to ask fewer questions that evening, hoping that anyone who was observing her would become bored by her doing little of interest aside from eating some delicious crêpes.

A woman came to see Angel on her second morning in town.

Angel was having breakfast in the café across from the hotel when the dark haired woman approached her table.

“Is this seat taken?” the woman asked, gesturing at the empty chair across from Angel.

Angel shook her head and gestured. “By all means.”

The woman sat, and Angel gave her a quick once-over.

Her black hair was shoulder length and mostly straight, except for two ringlets down either side of her face that corkscrewed like fusilli. She had also clipped a farfalle-style bow into her hair, which was equally black. In fact, black was something of a motif for her.

Her dress was black, her stockings were black and her ankle boots were black.

The dress, at least, had a design print on it, showing grey and white “U” or “C” shapes (depending on how you oriented yourself). It fluffed out past her waist, went down to her knees, kept her arms bare, and showed a hint of cleavage. Though the straps over her shoulders were the thickness of at least three fingers, implying a degree of modesty.

Her makeup, in contrast, was a pink blush and red lipstick. Quite the counterpoint to the black everywhere else. A glance for any bracelets or rings revealed nothing, though the woman did have silver earrings in the shape of sea shells, or rather, conchiglie. She looked to be in her late twenties, so maybe three or four years younger than Angel herself.

She was definitely attractive.

Angel briefly regretted her own choice of attire - her standard white blouse, dark slacks, and lab coat, which she had decided to put on so that she could keep notepaper and pencil stubs in the pockets. She wished she had chosen to wear something more feminine instead.

Granted, it’s not like this was going to morph into a date. And the presence of her gun in its holster also made that fantasy harder to picture. Still, Angel found herself trying to recall the last time she’d had a meal with such an alluring woman.

Alas, the fact that her mind was wandering that way meant that this was probably a trap.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Angel Rusée,” the woman said, after sizing up Angel as well.

“I couldn’t find any safe ones in town. Sorry, didn’t catch your name?” Angel added, offering a smile as she leaned her chin onto the palm of one hand.

“Hmph. Call me Pâtes, or simply Patty,” the woman said, scrutinizing Angel once more.

It was as if pasta, pâté, and burgers had become connected in one, single, intriguing name. Good thing she was already eating a croissant, Angel mused, or she might get hungry. “No last name?”

Patty grunted. “No. Listen. You should leave.”

Angel shook her head, now clasping her hands and resting them on the table. “That seems rude, given you only just sat down with me. Can I buy you something, Patty?”

Patty frowned, looking yet again at Angel. Angel fancied that this time, the other woman was trying to suss out Angel’s sexual preferences. Angel didn’t advertise them, but didn’t make a point of hiding them either. After all, if anyone was going to be bigoted towards her, Angel preferred to know sooner as opposed to later.

Patty’s gaze now darted left and right. “Wait. You… you can’t have been asking all around town about the jellyfish to get to me, surely?” she said.

“Alas, no,” Angel admitted. “I truly am concerned about the sea creatures. But that doesn’t prevent me from giving an attractive woman an amuse-bouche. Hmm? Particularly if she is connected to the case.” She winked.

Patty visibly flinched. “Y-You’re no chef,” she protested over the double entendre. With amuse-bouche being a complimentary bite-sized hors d’oeuvre offered by a chef, as well as suggesting a literal translation to ‘mouth amusement’ in english.

“Wait until I cook you a meal before saying that,” Angel suggested.

“Nngh.” Patty squirmed in her chair, visibly off balance, so at least Angel had managed to gain the upper hand there. “Are you this charming with men too?” she asked after a moment.

“If I require information from them, yes,” Angel admitted. “But I don’t derive the same pleasure from their company. Or invite to cook for them.”

Patty’s tongue ran over her upper lip as she glanced quickly around the area again. “Zut alors,” she muttered at last. “You would be a sirène.” She took a deep breath. “All right, Angel. I still think you should leave. But if you insist, I’ll level with you as to why.”

“Please do,” Angel said with a smile. “And allow me to at least order you a croissant.”

(Did I have this dark clothed woman in mind when I began writing? Not at all. So, who is she then? You tell me.)

poll.fm/12853610

ɛ PROJECT

WB (Writing Bufferless) presents…

STORY 7: ANGEL PASTA

[caption id=“attachment_1916” align=“aligncenter” width=“150”] Story 7 of ???[/caption]

STORY #7:

Angel is a Troubleshooter, in an alternate France of 1963. (Based on a recent RPG game I played in.) There’s problems in a sea town, but how could this relate to the Epsilon Project? Find out more by reading below.

CAST:

ANGEL RUSÉE … A thirty-something bunny-ears veterinarian (from an RP campaign)

more to come, presumably

EPISODE INDEX:

1. Raccoon City (Sept 24, 2023)

2. Pâtes Down (Oct 9)

3. Holo Graphic (Oct 25)

4. Between You and Mimi (Nov 29)

5. Angel Investigations (Jan 14)

6. Sneak Errs (Jan 28)

7. Bad Lock (Feb 16)

8. Support Beam (Feb 29)

9. (coming when I figure out what to do about WordPress going AI)

ANGEL PASTA: PART ONE

Angel sighed, flicked some of her long orangey-red hair off her shoulder, and leaned back against the nearby wall. “He was abusing animals,” she pointed out.

She hated this. It was coming down to a case of he-said-she-said, and she prided herself on her honesty. If only there were some easy way for a simple French citizen to record their own personal evidence, unobtrusively, to back up their side of the story.

Still, she supposed having such a technology would carry with it a field of new problems. For now, this situation was merely a minor inconvenience.

“This woman needs to be arrested, immediately. She might have killed me,” her nemesis of the moment continued.

Angel glanced around the small police station to get a sense of how much attention they were garnering from the locals. She couldn’t see the entire back of the police station from this side of the counter, but a couple desks were visible from her vantage point. The cops seemed interested enough to look their way, but not interested enough to stand up out of their chairs.

Conversely, the policeman at the front counter had become interested enough to put out the cigarette he’d been smoking upon their arrival.

Angel was pleased by that, at least. She’d never seen the point of deliberately inhaling smoke, particularly indoors. When she had occasion to be roughing it in her travels across the country, she generally avoided sticking her face directly above a campfire. For good reason.

No amount of feeling relaxed was worth the difficulties one could experience in breathing.

“Eddy, can you explain?” counter cop requested of the other individual standing near the front doors.

Angel looked to the policeman who had brought the both of them in.

The rotund man shook his head. “I went to investigate a noise complaint and found the two of them in a standoff,” Eddy explained. “Angel here insisted that we come down to the station to resolve it, and Jacques didn’t disagree.”

“Of course. Because she should be arrested,” Jacques reiterated, gesturing at Angel.

Counterman tried to wave off Jacques. “Let me get the facts here. Did Angel have a gun?”

“I pointed a water gun at him,” Angel piped up in her defence.

“Non, it was a real firearm that you swapped out as soon as the police showed up,” Jacques argued.

“STOP, both of you,” the man behind the counter said. “Eddy?”

“She had in her possession both a water gun and a handgun,” Eddy admitted.

“Fully licensed handgun,” Angel added. “Which I did not draw.”

“And why,” Jacques insisted, “would anyone carry around a water gun as well as a real gun, except to use the water gun to disguise the fact that they are a dangerous, good-for-nothing gun bunny?”

Angel clenched one hand into a fist. This was reaching her breaking point. “Ta gueule,” she sniped, making a point of speaking to Jacques rather than the policemen. “First, the water gun was for the raccoons. Second, the handgun is good for getting me out of trouble with people who are genuinely evil, as opposed to merely idiotic. And finally, it’s veterinarian bunny, thank you very much.”

The bunny ears hairband she constantly wore was an affectation from her youth. It was less to impress these days, and more to distinguish herself, as well as put people off their guard around her. Even if it did invite questions that she would just as soon not answer.

[caption id=“attachment_3502” align=“alignright” width=“207”] ANGEL RUSEE
(image of Charlotte Yeager of Strike Witches)[/caption]

Besides, the ears were cream coloured and went with her lab coat, when she had occasion to wear it. Today, of course, she had elected to go with a simple white blouse and dark pants, not wanting to potentially tear any of her other outfits while dealing with Jacques’s shenanigans.

Eddy was looking at her now in puzzlement. Angel idly reached up to make sure neither of the bunny ears was overly drooping.

“Wait,” Eddy said. “You’re not from around here. How did you know about our raccoon problem?”

“I hear things,” Angel said, finally pushing back off the wall. “As I travel. In fact, it is why I decided to stick around and help you gentlemen out.”

“Don’t meddle in affairs that don’t concern you,” Jacques cut back in.

It was Eddy’s turn to attempt to wave off Jacques. “Angel, have you seen any raccoons behaving this way elsewhere in France?” he asked.

“Non,” she answered. “After all, to be causing disruptions in only a small area, evading capture and then seemingly vanishing, it would require the assistance of humans.”

“We suspected as much, but all our suspects in the region have alibis,” Eddy explained.

“Cages can be remotely triggered for release,” Angel stated. “As simple as a pin held in place with melting ice, or as complicated as an electronic device. And if one has an accomplice, it provides a chance for misdirection at an appropriate time.”

“Oho! And you think that’s what happened here,” Eddy realized, looking impressed.

“Non,” Angel corrected. “I was merely suggesting lines of inquiry for your future investigations. In this case, I believe the problem is that Jacques Barbier was never properly considered as a suspect in the first place.”

“What? Me, a suspect?” Jacques sputtered. “You’re crazy, lady. The raccoons have been targeting my properties. As the landlord, I’m a victim here too.”

Angel glanced at her watch. She supposed the time had come to pursue this to its logical conclusion.

“Are you?” she continued. “They are your properties, meaning you could set up things in advance. Ensure there was something on the premises the raccoons would find interesting, before releasing them. Ensure that the traps would malfunction, even as you tracked and recaptured the poor animals elsewhere later on, keeping them locked up in a basement until the next time they would be needed.”

“You dumb bunny,” Jacques yelled at her. “Why would I do all of that to devalue my own properties?”

“Aside from the hope of paying less property tax?” Angel mused. “There’s the fact that you do not like your current tenants, as they have recently created a tenants association. Yet you face a stiff penalty if you kick them out. One that does not apply if they choose to leave of their own volition.”

Jacques froze, looking to her now like a deer caught in some headlights. “You have no proof of this.”

“Don’t I?” Angel said, smiling.

Jacques stared at her, then quickly turned to slap his hand back down on the countertop yet again. “Arrest this woman already for pointing her firearm at me.”

The man at the counter looked back up from some papers that he had been signing. “Sorry, are you all quite finished? Are we back to including me in this discussion?” he asked.

“Philippe, Angel Rusee has a fascinating theory about the raccoon case,” Eddy noted. “Much better than Jules' theory about animal zombies.”

Angel’s eyes went wide at that, and she shuddered at the very thought of it. Though she supposed credit was due for creative thinking, whomever Jules was.

“I was mostly listening,” Philippe said, resting his cheek on his palm. “I must say, I’m becoming inclined to arrest the both of you, to let someone else sort this all out later.”

“That could prove to be an issue,” Angel cautioned. “I do have some friends in high places.”

“She means she’s friends with birds,” Jacques snorted.

“Them too,” Angel admitted.

Alas, as tempting as it might be to mention her assistance with the mind control device affair in Paris, or the orichalcum affair in Greece, Angel knew both were highly classified. Not to mention unlikely to be of interest to anyone living in one of these smaller French cities.

Fortunately, Pierre chose that moment to arrive.

The sixteen year old had been very interested in Angel’s investigations, and she had decided that befriending one of the residents of Jacques properties was in her best interests. His assistance had been invaluable the previous night.

“Officer Philippe? I have evidence that Jacques is behind all the damage the raccoons are doing,” Pierre stated breathlessly, slapping a manilla envelope down on the front counter. He shot Angel a wide grin, which she acknowledged with a small smile. His timing was excellent.

“Ridiculous,” Jacques scoffed. “What could you possibly have in an envelope that might incriminate me?”

“Photographic evidence,” Pierre clarified. He looked again to Angel. “The pictures from last night turned out real good.”

Jacques got a deer in the headlights look again. “Impossible,” he gasped. He rounded on Angel. “Last night - the lights turning on and off, that was no accident?”

“Correct,” she agreed.

“You set me up and then took a photograph of me when I went to check on my raccoons,” Jacques continued, aghast.

“Non,” Angel clarified. “Pierre here took the photos. This is technically his fight, not mine.”

“But then, when you came to my place this morning, that was a ruse,” Jacques extrapolated. “You wanted us both at the police station now. In fact, you’ve been buying time all morning, waiting for the photos to be developed.”

“You have finally made a valid accusation of me there, yes,” Angel affirmed.

Jacques looked stunned for a moment. He looked at everyone present, glanced towards the door, and then at the envelope on the counter. “Th-This is inadmissible evidence,” Jacques said, pointing at the folder, his arm shaking.

“Had you kept the raccoons on your private property, rather than in a more public location, perhaps,” Angel remarked. “But even if, for some reason, the photos are not accepted? I would think your blurting out the equivalent of a confession in front of the police here would be enough to incriminate you. Yes?”

Jacques looked around again, then bolted for the door.

Eddy, it turned out, could move surprisingly fast for his size, quickly grasping Jacques by the arm and twisting him around to pin him against the wall. Jacques slumped as the fight immediately went out of him.

Angel shook her head. “Imbecile,” she muttered in French.

Eddy turned to Angel. “Thank you for your assistance,” he remarked. “Both of you,” he added, looking to Pierre.

Pierre dropped into a crouch with one leg out, and thrust his arm into the air. “Yes, Pierre rocks! Thanks Angel. I’ve got it from here,” he added.

Angel fired off another smile his way, then looked towards Philippe. “As you local police seem to have things well in hand, I will be on my way. Or do you require me to stick around to deal with a gun charge?”

Philippe rubbed his forehead. “Gun charge? What gun charge, it was only a water gun. Just, don’t leave the area for twenty four hours, all right?”

“Acceptable,” Angel agreed.

Under his breath, she heard Philippe add, “My daughter would never forgive me if she found out I arrested a woman who talks to animals. She loves Snow White.”

Angel’s opinion of the officer went up several notches. The 1937 Disney film had indeed been an influence on her. Not many tended to pick up on that.

Of course, she had only seen the film after the more sobering occupation of France during the Second World War. Which she had experienced at an age even younger than Pierre. And it had left its own impact, meaning Angel was not inclined to actually leave the police station until her handgun had been returned to her and tucked away again in its holster.

Angel was back on the road with her van the following afternoon.

Her original destination upon leaving Paris had not been “raccoon city”, after all, but rather the seashore. She had simply made the small detour, once she’d heard about their issue in a neighbouring town.

If only the seashore trip had been for a vacation.

No, she had received a phone call that a particular coastal city was having a serious problem with jellyfish. There were far too many near the shore, causing problems for humans and sea creatures alike. And someone had heard of Angel’s area of expertise, and given her a heads up.

She now made a point of phoning ahead, so that she would not be wandering aimlessly around the town trying to find someone who knew anything about the situation. The gentleman who was involved in city tourism had seemed to be her best bet, and indeed he was only too happy to agree to meet with her, once she had explained who she was.

They met at a small cafe in the early evening, an hour after her arrival in town.

“I do not understand. This is so bizarre. I am so confused,” said Jules as he stirred his coffee. “I do hope you can help get people wanting to use the beaches again.”

“I am more concerned with the sea life,” Angel admitted, “but we will see what I can do.” She took a sip of tea. “Now, how did this all begin?”

[crowdsignal poll=‘12749310’]

Of note, while the new Crowdsignal polls encourage you to embed polls in posts, they become near impossible to edit that way - resulting in my temporarily changing the background colour of the entire site - but doing them separate now seems to work. Thanks for reading, poll is open until early October, closing some time after the 1st.)

For those who have not been keeping track, I haven't run a live serial since April 2021. Between mathNEWS and Mercury fic posts, I've spent over two years on reruns. I've no idea how much of that has been due to parenting and how much due to pandemic teaching (not to mention teaching under conservatives). But I've decided we're due for another.

I will try to keep serial updates to the every two weeks schedule, with the first week for voting and the second for me to write. I say try, because even though I'm only teaching part time, it still feels full time. We'll see if I can manage it.

It will also be an Epsilon style story, but (at least at first) not from the perspective of the Epsilon station.

More backstory here: From February to May of this past year (2023), a friend of mine did a campaign based on the "Troubleshooters" Roleplay system. (This after my Avril character passed away in TORG in January; I posted about that on my home blog.) In this "Troubleshooters", I played Angel Rusée, the bunny ears veterinarian. Given Epsilon is the resting ground for many of my RP characters, I've decided to bring her back here.

She's visually "played by" Charlotte Yaeger from Strike Witches. Different personality (I think, I haven't seen much Strike Witches, I searched bunny ears).

The role-play setting is the year 1963, in a fictional Europe based on Belgian and French style comics. There is a joint French-Japanese mission to the Moon slated for 1964. Of course, Europe still has the Iron Curtain and we don't have sexual equality, so it's not all wonderful. Sometimes, it's difficult to even figure out what day of the week it is (see below).

I don't know if this is a good idea, but I want to try it, so we'll see how it goes.

Here's our first votes. How do YOU think the serial should go? (What might YOU read?)

Writing related, I have now joined AO3 (Archive of Our Own) as it's been suggested that Time & Tied might play well there. Recall the story's already on RoyalRoadL so it's not like my website is the exclusive location.

Knowing that, here's other (unpolled) questions, should I run it at the same time as Epsilon here? Should I wait? Alternatively, should I even start there with T&T, or would it be better to start with something else, like the fanfic I've just been reposting?

I don't yet know how engagement works on that site. Input appreciated.

Meanwhile, FWI, "Time Untied" is now 265,000 words (officially splitting off into "Time Denied" around the 160,000 mark) and it's GETTING there. I'm actually far enough along with the plot threads out that I can see a resolution in the nebulous future. I'll be trying to tackle it again in November, as per usual. I hope audience interest hasn't completely waned, some earlier edits will be needed before the unveiling.

We could be a year out, unless that's optimistic, depending on whatever else happens in my life.

COINS UPDATE

As long as I'm updating, let's also talk coins. We haven't had any behind the scenes update since my "Summary of 2020" post back in April of 2021.

A reminder, to end 2015, I had 42 coins from that year. During 2016 I got 37 minted coins (some in BC). During 2017 I got 20 coins minted that year (some before June). During 2018 I got 21 coins minted, during 2019 I got 17 coins minted that year, then pandemic. During 2020 I got one, plus a quarter to start 2021, so calling it two.

In 2021, there were also only two (and again the quarter might have been the start of February 2022, I don't recall). Conversely, in 2022, I started getting current quarters in MAY. By the end of the year, I had 10 coins (half were quarters). So, easier time travel is returning.

Except, this year, 2023, nothing yet. I strongly suspect that's because we have no more queen. With the death of Elizabeth II about a year ago (Sept 8) all the Canadian coins will need a new image on the back.

I have come across more coins of prior years subsequently, by the way. Ten 2022 coins, including a special loonie. Nineteen 2021 coins including a special dime. Twelve 2020 coins (though no nickels). I'm not entirely sure why I've kept collecting. Proof of concept, maybe?

The time car may possibly make a return for the T&T sequel, so let's say it's research.

STATS UPDATE

I don't want this to be long post, but let's finish up with thoughts on Stats, since once again, it's been over two years since I've said much of anything.

First, my publicity has been abysmal. There's no time for that, and teaching, and parenting, and actual writing, and some reading too. Not if I want to shop for groceries and sleep and mundane stuff like that.

Absolutely not helping was the implosion of Twitter a year ago (with the idiot billionaire who will not be named), and I've moved to Mastodon. Last month, JetPack finally allowed for auto-posting there instead of Twitter (I'd already been using Tumblr in place of Twitter, even though I never spend any time there.) The thing with queuing up posts a couple months in advance is one tends to forget that they're going out on the Sundays.

As a reminder, my engagement high water mark was in 2017, when I had almost 7k views across all the content on this site. Since then, there's been more content and less views. In 2020, with everyone stuck at home, I was down to 1,635 page views on the site (670 visitors). In 2021, we had 1,394 views (402 visitors) and in 2022 a slight uptick to 1,531 views (896 visitors) overall.

Meaning we're mostly holding steady (even though content has increased), seemingly with a lot more people looking at less views per page. That's not great.

It's continuing this year. So far in 2023 we've passed 1,300 views, but with over 1,000 visitors, implying a lot of people arriving, looking at a single page, then leaving. I need to fix that, and I'm hoping the new organic serial will help. If you have other suggestions, let me know.

In terms of interaction, the last comment I had was May 2022 (thanks John), so it's been a year of silence there too. At least about the site, fortunately, I have had commentary on some of my Mastodon posts. I mostly talk about "Time Untied" there, though occasionally my other writing.

Speaking of, shout out to #TimeTravelAuthors, the hashtag which didn't even exist 14 months ago, meaning this must be the first mention on this site. It's because of that group, that I had a short story published in December 2022. (On paper in February 2023.) It's in this anthology, The Accidental Time Traveler's Collective, and you should check it out because there's lot of other great stories there along with my "Free Will".

That was added to the catalogue of all my writing as well.

That's all the key stuff, let me know if you think there's something that I missed out on, or if you otherwise have any questions. The above polls will be open for a week, then I'll see if I can crank something out.

Thanks as always for reading, and take care.

*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_*

POSTLUDE: THE SPOILERS BEHIND THE STORY

Here’s a reminder of the timelines from Episode 0.

THE SAGA: Dec 1996: Episode 1

Jan-Mar 1997: Reworked Episode 1 and completed Episode 2

Apr 1997: After receiving positive feedback, wrote Episodes 3 & 4

May 1997: Episodes 5 & 6, story posted to webpage (vs NCF)

Jun-Aug 1997: Break; troubles working in the class trip

Wrote “A Stitch in Time” Sep 1997: Episode 7 in time for Ami’s birthday Oct 1997: Episode 8 Dec 1997: Episode 9; one year anniversary

Jan-Aug 1998: Break; out of MB synopses to reference!

Wrote “What Evil Lurks” Sep 1998: Thanks to continued support, wrote Episode 10

Again sent out in time for Ami’s birthday Oct-Nov 1998: Webpage troubles and some work on another story Dec 1998: Episode 11 out in time for XMas; have synopses to 20! Aug 1999: Episode 12; now over 2.5 years in Jul 2000: Episode 13 completed, unreleased

2002: The live action “Marmalade Boy” series

2004: English dub of “Marmalade Boy” released by Tokyopop

May 2017: “Marmalade Boy” relicensed by Discotek Media

Aug 2017: Episodes 14 & 15 to complete the series

Yes, that’s a 17 year gap. Keep reading this Postlude for why.

FINAL CHARACTER LIST: (Quick reference guide. Names listed Japanese style, last name first.) MARMALADE BOY (MB) -> SAILOR MOON (SM)

Koishikawa Miki -> Mizuno Ami Matsuura Yuu -> Anderson Greg* Akizuki Meiko -> Tsukino Usagi Suou Ginta -> Ryo Urawa Suzuki Arimi -> Aino Minako Namura (sensei) -> Chiba Mamoru Ryoko (sensei) -> Sujigaki Kato* Rokutanda Tsutomu -> Kanren Sewaya* Miwa Satoshi -> Taylor Kaijin* Kishima (shop owner) -> Motoki “Lunchtime News” -> Umino

*: Created for the story (not originally in SM)

A SEVENTEEN YEAR GAP: Yeah. So that happened. Why return to a fanfic after all that time? Two factors.

(1) A Promise.

In the “story behind the story” (ep 0), I always concluded the saga section with the following disclaimer:

“Writing, as usual, depends on my schedule, timing and if readers think there’s merit ;) If I decide to stop, however, I will try and write a conclusion so as not to leave the plot hanging.”

Did I try? Did I really try? There’s two fanfic projects I was still picking away at in 1999. One was a grandiose multi-author effort surrounding a picture of Ami (either with a baby or pregnant, I no longer recall) that involved Ami having secretly had Mamoru’s love child, named Setsuna, and perhaps you can see where that’s going… I no longer remember who was coordinating it.

My part of the story involved Ami’s return to Japan; I was recruited after someone read “What Evil Lurks”. I have a sketchy gap-filled 3,500 words on an old computer that I sent off at some point, saying I’d clean it up. I didn’t, and then I never heard what became of that initiative either.

The other fanfic was “Marmalade Mercury”.

I never released Episode 13 (completed July 2000) for a few reasons. First, Ep 12 was almost-kinda-sorta a conclusion, whereas Ep 13 definitely was NOT, and I didn’t like my chances of completing Ep 14, where both anime plots would formally fuse.

Particularly given how at the time I was in my final year of University, and things like needing a job were on the horizon. Better to leave the series on a high note.

Second, “Time Trippers” (now “Time & Tied”) was becoming my new baby, scribblings from December 1999 becoming a full episode by October 2000; I was looking forwards, not back. (I only now realize that Meiko was a prototype for Julie LaMille. This blows my mind.)

Finally, I suspect I’d been feeling a certain distance from the NCF community, having been in Waterloo for quite some time, and/or the Moon Craze seemed to be wearing off. If no one was asking for it, why point out that this was a thing I might now never finish?

Except. I’d said I’d try to write a conclusion.

And I still had some notes, including an incredibly epic self-insert trolling twist, the likes of which I had never seen in a fanfic before. At thirteen parts, it taunted me.

To quote from “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” (itself quoting “Moby Dick”): JOACHIM: We are free. We have a ship, and the means to go where we will. We have escaped permanent exile on Ceti Alpha V. You have proven your superior intellect, and defeated the plans of Admiral Kirk. You do not need to defeat him again. KHAN: He tasks me. He tasks me, and I shall have him. I’ll chase him around the Moons of Nibia and round the Antares Maelstrom and round Perdition’s flames before I give him up!

I know. That might not be the best comparison.

(2) Good Timing.

From 2016-2017, I was taking a year off of work (that is one single year, a “teaching” year). This allowed me to complete my writing of “Time & Tied” Book 4, gave me the opportunity to write “The Girl Who Speaks With Algebra” during 2016’s NaNoWriMo (later re-edited), let me write various guest posts for other blogs, and meant I could catch up on old projects.

“Marmalade Mercury” stared at me from my hard drive, where I had dragged it, from laptop to laptop, year after year. My own creativity page labelled it as “Stalled after 13 episodes, I keep meaning to write a conclusion!”.

Related, in 2014, I received an email out of the blue from someone named “Mac Kintana”, who had stumbled on “What Evil Lurks” in an old archive, and was wondering if I had any other stories. This, after my “Sailor Mercury’s Ultimate Fan” interview was uploaded earlier that year to YouTube.

Also in 2017, Scott Delahunt had written a conclusion to one of his old stories, “Tales of the Soul Blade”, after having posted it up in weekly entries onto his website.

Did I want to revisit the past? To finally tie things off? To prove that, no matter what, when I say I’ll finish something, I’ll BLOODY WELL FINISH it?

August 2017, three weeks before school would resume, I realized it was now… or never.

It was now.

I’d like to say that the relicensing of “Marmalade Boy” was a factor, but I only found that out when checking references later. It’s possible that I’d seen something on a website in passing, burrowing itself into my subconscious, but I’m dubious.

RECONSTRUCTING THE PAST: I spent Day 1 completely re-reading the previous 13.1 parts. (I add 0.1 because in those days, I would always start writing a little bit into the next episode, to give myself a jumping off point.)

That took about 7 hours, because I had to remove a bunch of Hard Returns, while putting in some new paragraph breaks (I’d head-hopped a lot), plus I’m a slow reader. I didn’t bother changing all the ellipses, or the double spacing after periods.

Thing is, it wasn’t terrible. That kind of surprised me.

My “Marmalade Boy” summaries through to Ep 20 were long gone (largely written on paper), but hey, it’s NOT 1999, there’s this thing called the INTERNET. It wasn’t hard to track down quick synopses for MB episodes 1-24. (Granted, it’s a bit of a ghost-land after that, and it went 76 episodes.) Meanwhile, the online information on “Sailor Moon” is a hundred times more comprehensive, so no worries there. Was that enough?

I tweeted out (paraphrasing) “Marmalade Mercury. How much time do I really want to devote to you?” After a brief conversation with Scott (see “Soul Blade” above), I mused, “Do I just write based on the notes and scribbles left behind, or do I actually rewatch some MarmBoy?” (I own the whole series.) He suggested, rewatch a few episodes to trigger the rest of the memories.

I don’t really do half measures.

I took six hours the following day to watch thirteen episodes, from Episode 13 (for a baseline) through to Episode 25. Writing out plot points and direct quotes in a text file as I went.

It probably helped that I was used to doing that after my recent “Series Scans”. I also think it made the process a lot easier in the long run, as it gave me something to draw from when I got stuck.

I also watched “Sailor Mercury Moving On?” (online) for good measure, the SMR Mercury power-up episode, and my God, that DiC show overused tiara scene wipes.

On Day 3, I started in.

Episode 14. What did I have to work with from 2000? The opening scene with Greg, essentially ditching Ami’s mother from the plot. The start of another scene with Ami. The remark “Minako comes over, talks with Ami”. Then “broom closet with Minako to avoid Kaijin” before the commercial break.

A few other miscellaneous half-sentences. Also, a need to blend in Mamoru/Kato, after having set up the fateful Chibi-Usa boat trip back in Ep 13. The lingering title? QUALIFICATION OF LOVE - (TBD).

I resigned myself to the fact that one episode wouldn’t be enough to race through twelve episodes of MB plot.

Could I do it in two? The original idea had been to align ‘Ami leaving Japan’ with ‘Namura leaving Tokyo’, but if instead I used Ami’s trip to Germany as a CLOSING to the whole story… this felt plausible.

Mercury returns, and done. It also meant that re-using “THINGS AREN’T GOING AS PLANNED”, the MB title from ep 18, had a double meaning for me.

I got through about 3,500 words that first day. About 4,800 the next, bringing me halfway into Ep 15, and then another 4,000 on the third and final day of writing. Allowing me to type two words after five days: END SERIES. (Yeah, that last ep ran long. Oh well.)

Then I needed a day for edits, as well as deciding to type up THIS document, because sure, more work. In case anyone else wants tips on revisiting a story they began 20 years earlier. Hope it helps?

ENDING THE PLOT THREADS: Pretty much none of it was planned in advance. (Is it ever with me?)

Kaijin’s last name WAS my epic trolling self-insert twist, which had been in there from the start… in as much as I didn’t give him a last name, on the off chance that I could come up with something even better later on. So, how could I close off the other relationships?

Pulling in Minako’s fan club, from MB ep 23, gave me a good way to shut down the Sewaya angle. I’d also wondered about working in SMoon’s “Missing Minako Episode” (from Season One), giving details about her being in England… never dubbed, and NOT easy to research in 1997, but drop dead easy in 2017. So I worked that in.

Minako/Sewaya? Finished. I still gave Sewaya an appearance and a line, because it helped get Mina into the closet with Greg, a parallel to MB Ep 14.

Following that commercial break, I went off book, which I lampshaded in Ami’s looking at the TV Guide. In MB, Miki doesn’t put Yuu’s picture into the medallion until Ep 19, after the truth about her housing situation gets out. That’s the same ep where Yuu finally learns who Miwa is, so Motoki got to pull that reveal here, thanks to Kaijin’s timely introduction moments earlier.

The intervening MB episodes (15-18) had largely dealt with Meiko/Namura, which here was Usagi/Mamoru/Kato. With that tied to an existing plot in SM, it was kind of a nuisance; I decided for closure, I simply had to get rid of Kato. The best plan seemed to be having her confess (she never really did in MB, but she did invite Namura up), then “put her on a bus”.

Ideally, I foreshadowed Mamoru’s breakup in the process of that scene, and what the hell, I threw in a Moonlight Knight reference to remind people it’s anime continuity. Done. In my opinion, that ended up being the weakest conclusion. (But then, in MB, Namura comes back way later anyway.)

Urawa was going to be a pain. In part because his MB plot was basically over. But I had sort of an idea there. I gave him an offscreen vision, and another scene with Minako, to indicate I hadn’t forgotten him.

Next, Ami’s insistence on talking to Greg was a potential problem, but the Germany news felt like the perfect thing to refocus the poor girl’s attention away from romance. Could I make her having that news plausible?

In the anime, Ami tells her friends about the trip. The next day, she tells Usagi she doesn’t want a big going away party, and Artemis is frozen by the Dark Moon. Cut to the day Ami leaves. Artemis missing for days stretches credulity, particularly when coupled with Chibi-Usa wanting to search Ami’s place for the Ginzuishou. But by the same measure, surely the scholarship thing would give at least a week’s notice, right? I had timeline plausibility.

Incidentally, I’m amused at how the ice cream place in MB is called “Bobsons’” while in SM it’s called “Bob-Floy”. Yeah, I played with that.

I knew then that Episode 15 was going to be heavy. I’d have to deal with the entire Germany angle (including Sailor Senshi), Greg’s origins, AND miscellaneous details like the housing situation reveal.

So, I started the “boys love” angle (from MB ep 20) in ep 14 too, using Makoto as a vehicle (Usagi being otherwise engaged). And I gave Kaijin the commercial bumper, meaning every bumper appears at least twice. (The names separated by commas were always the valid pairing. See below.)

Narratively speaking, I realized I also had to end ep 14, not with Chibi-Usa’s appearance (which I would subsequently be relegating to the background), but Ami’s final plot. Germany vs. Friendship. That sets up the end.

Episode 15 begins: I decided I had to keep that scene in the bushes from MB. Partly to preserve one of Umino’s only real contributions, but also because it’s so precious. In the process, I hinted at the Dark Moon plot using “is that a fancy calculator” (LITERALLY a line from MB to Miki, though not by him), and I did my best to tie up the housing angle while also pulling in the flashback line I’d set up in 1997. (MB loves it some flashbacks.)

The Minako/Urawa scene after was partly for humour (cousins and implausible reliability), partly to hint that I knew the Senshi thing was coming, wait for it.

The Ami/Greg scene that followed got away from me. In the original, Yuu’s revelation was at the end of Ep 23, Miki then talks with Satoshi in Ep 24, and it all culminates in Ep 25. I pulled in bits and pieces from ALL those sources.

They wouldn’t stop talking. (The England “trial run” thing was always a thought, by the way.) Finally, I decided screw it, and called myself halfway done, dropping the Greg Taylor thing in before the commercial.

More lip service to SM after that, with Chibi-Usa as a conversation blocker, that was surprisingly handy.

The Ami/Kaijin scene let me close off the Kaijin/Usagi romance, while bleeding in the details from Ep 24 that hadn’t fit in the Ami/Greg scene. Then, the big reveal. I swear, honestly, I didn’t know if I’d follow the MB plot or not here - I was already off the rails.

What if I had Kaijin’s dad say, “Yeah, that’s actually true, you’re Greg Taylor.” Who cares, right? What decided me was the fact that a denial meant Greg could leave Japan along with Ami. A more fitting conclusion.

Oh, a detail you likely didn’t notice?

In the anime “Fushigi Yugi” (Mysterious Play), the word to summon the ultimate power is “Kaijin”. Since I already had a Kaijin Taylor, how about a Fushigi Taylor. I’m crazy. You’re welcome.

Earlier references to the characters of “Dr. Tavolite” and “Enmae” were, if memory serves, shout-outs to player characters on the Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Mux (BSSM), where I did online role-play as Urawa. No, really. (He starts working for a private detective, Kenjiro Cross, in Season Two.)

The Ami/Greg scene at the lake that followed allowed me to flash back to Ep 3, in the same way that MB did in Ep 25, which ends the entire first arc of “Marmalade Boy”’s run.

But not this story.

Greg had to know about the Mercury angle. That’s the only way this fanfic is in any way satisfying for a reader. (Or at least, for the author?) No, seriously, without that reveal, we end on such a down note. The story also just fizzles away, it’s not memorable, there’s nothing to recommend it. Greg HAS to know. Which is a problem.

There’s no way Ami would tell him. Not yet.

In the MB anime, Miki and Yuu had been together for over six months by this point. I was working with not quite five weeks, and Senshi had been a non-factor for all of it. I tooled around with a few options, including Greg being in town a day early (MB movie!) and overhearing Ami talking to Usagi before it all began, or maybe he’s at the airport and sees her get the Senshi pen… at some point, it hit me that Mercury was how I could close off Urawa’s thread.

Coupled with that was the matter of Rei. Sorely underused, because she didn’t go to Ami’s school, or have the ties to the plot that Minako did. I was kind of fine with this (she’s my least favourite Senshi), but I have made my peace with the character and I was doing so much with the others. All Rei had contributed was the medallion. That temple charm. Hmmmmmm.

The subsequent Urawa/Greg scene let me make some nice callbacks (like the chess match), drop in some relevant SM plot (Minako/Artemis), and finally have Urawa yield to the MB plot of letting Yuu win. It would also tease at the final dramatic reveal of the medallions, which are actually very key to MB lore, but here could be an unexpected twist. Toss in a few other veiled references (to future MB plots and the upcoming Shrine Advertising in SM) with Ami/Greg and we’re done. For REAL.

I stole the “happiness” line in the title from a later MB episode too. Sometimes, it all just fits together. It’s also somewhat relevant that, since I decided the last scene had to be Ami’s point-of-view (bookending the series), the earlier scene at the lake would be Greg. For balance.

Man, I head hopped a lot back in the day.

THE FUTURE: I think this marks the end of fanfiction for me? The biggest thing on the horizon is “Time & Tied: The University Years” aka “Time Untied”. In the meantime “The Epsilon Project” (a multiverse mashup of my original characters) continues on my serial blog. It’s a series that works on voting input; I think “Marmalade Mercury” has a lot to say about the way I view reader input on serials.

Alternatively, “Any ~Qs” (my personified math comic) is also ongoing. I hope you might join me in some of those endeavours? Look for “mathtans” on the web. But if not, thanks for reading this far. Good luck to any writing projects you might be involved in yourself!

COMMERCIAL BUMPER ROUNDUP: Ep 01: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 02: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 03: Minako, Urawa and Sewaya skating. Ep 04: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 05: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 06: Minako, Urawa and Sewaya skating. Ep 07: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 08: Usagi, Mamoru and Kaijin skating. Ep 09: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating. Ep 10: Minako, Urawa and Sewaya skating. Ep 11: Usagi, Mamoru and Kaijin skating. Ep 12: Ami, Greg and Kaijin skating. Ep 13: Minako, Urawa and Sewaya skating. Ep 14: Ami, Greg and Kaijin skating. Ep 15: Ami, Greg and Urawa skating.

As I mentioned above, the names separated by commas were always the valid pairing in the end.

THANKS AGAIN TO:

• Scott Delahunt. For comments, for helping me realize Usagi couldn’t do all Meiko’s work by herself, for tips, and for general inspiration in the home stretch of 2017.
• Margaret Brown-Bury for the idea of Greg’s part-time job.
• Craig Erickson for offering assistance and brainstorming.
• Andrea Doolan for Marmalade Boy synopses, as well as Margaret Brown-Bury.
• drdata, for providing Karen Duffy’s synopses that were of some use.
• Brad Lascelle, for letting me borrow Marmalade Boy episodes 9-20 in the late 90s so that I could remember where I was going.
• Everyone who has e-mailed me concerning the story and everyone who has enjoyed it thus far. (A surprising number! :) That I no longer remember!)

Incidentally, the Marmalade Mercury Opening Sequence was something I put together myself, deliberately for this revival on the serial site. Mostly when I noticed how little editing was actually needed, the song beats fit in marvellously. Hope you enjoyed.

The card scans are all from my collection, both the Mercury and MB sets. And I think that’s everything. Happy September 10th. Peace out.

Previous	Chapter Links	Next
	*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_* EP 15b: IMPACT OF A CONFESSION - HOW LONG WILL THIS HAPPINESS LAST?

<commercial break; Ami, Greg and Urawa skating, they trip over Ami's computer>

“There is a small lady in our living room.”

Ami turned away from their new house guest, to see Greg standing in the doorway. She offered him a wan smile. “Observant. This is Chibi-Usa, that cousin of Usagi’s that I mentioned? She was waiting for me after juku. She wanted to stay over, to give Usagi a break. I might have encouraged the behaviour, having offered her ice cream earlier... it was shortly after I told the others about my scholarship. I hope this isn’t a problem?”

Greg shrugged, peering at the pink haired girl.

Chibi-Usa’s eyes narrowed. “You better be a sound sleeper,” she asserted.

“Oh-Kay, whatever,” Greg said. He looked back at Ami. “Just so you know, everything’s confirmed with Kaijin. It’ll be tomorrow, before your juku. Though if you’re not free, don’t even worry about it, since now that your friends know about Germany, I bet they’ll insist on having some sort of..."

“I’ll tell them no,” Ami insisted. “I don’t really want a gathering anyway, and besides, what’s happening with you tomorrow is more important.” She smiled at him.

And Greg’s cheeks coloured slightly, as they had the previous day. Ami found herself wondering if that’s what she looked like when she got embarrassed.

It WAS kind of cute.

“Wow. Thanks. Uhh, as to, er..." He faltered, and his gaze drifted back towards Chibi-Usa.

“If you hear anything in the middle of the night, don’t even bother checking!” Chibi-Usa said.

“Let’s talk another time,” Greg sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned to head upstairs. “Maybe I can walk with you to your juku tomorrow.”

*****

“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me here, a little before Greg would arrive?” Kaijin asked. He was leaning up against a post in front of his house, smiling at her as she walked up.

Ami shrugged. “I assumed it was--"

“I heard that Mamoru guy broke it off with Usagi,” Kaijin continued blithely, shrugging his arms out to the sides. “Something about her father not approving? And Mamoru apparently preferring a clean break when it comes to romantic relationships? Therefore, I figured, as Usagi’s friend, you’d be a good person to gauge my chances on the rebound.”

Ami felt her eyebrow twitching. “Zero.”

Kaijin shook his head. “No, no, think about this! I’m not saying I’d make a play for her right away, Usagi obviously needs some time, some space. But how long do you figure I should wait, before I distract the lovely girl from her misery with my mastery of card tricks? A couple more days? A week?”

“Zero chance,” Ami repeated. She turned away. “I’ll wait for Greg at the end of the street.”

“Fine, understood, I’ll back off Usagi,” Kaijin sighed. “As an alternative, want to talk about how I knew Greg was my brother?”

Ami froze mid-stride. Somewhat against her better judgement, she turned back. He was grinning at her again. Baiting her. But she had to know. “I’m listening,” she yielded.

Kaijin took a moment to check that there was nobody around who might overhear, and even then he lowered his voice. “I ended up reading my mom’s private diary years ago. Kind of accidental, she was hiding it from my father in plain view, on a bookshelf. She’d suspected him of infidelity, you see, and had been trying to track down the first case, which she believed had involved a pregnancy.”

“Greg’s mom?” Ami hypothesized, off of Kaijin’s hesitation.

Kaijin nodded. “Right. Of course, she’d left Japan, so that trail was a dead end. On the face of it. I was a little more persistent, as the idea of having a sibling intrigued me. I even travelled to Canada, under pretext of a vacation, to run down some leads. You ever been to Ottawa?”

Ami shook her head.

“It’s a nice place.” Kaijin clasped his hands behind his head. “I’d wow you with my detective skills, but suffice to say, I met his mom. Greg was apparently in England at the time, so I never met him. Only saw a picture. But when he turned up here? At first, I thought he’d followed me back.” Kaijin shook his head. “Instead, he never even knew that I’d been to his hometown.”

“And you never told your parents about what you’d learned?” Ami wondered.

Kaijin looked thoughtful. “Nah, they’d kind of patched things up that year, and I didn’t want to rattle the cage.”

Ami pursed her lips. “So do you think your dad will admit to --"

“Hi Greg!” Kaijin said, waving.

Ami flinched, looking over her shoulder to see Greg approaching.

“So, yeah, Ami, give my apologies to your friend Makoto for my attitude last Sunday at the Game Centre, okay?” Kaijin concluded, pushing away from the post. “I don’t want her saying anything bad about me on Umino’s show tomorrow.”

“I... y-yeah,” Ami stammered out.

It was time for Greg’s confrontation. Part of her wished that she and Greg had been able to talk about the implications of a relationship before this. She hoped there would be time later. Because of how she was leaving tomorrow...

“You ready for this?” Kaijin asked, clapping Greg on the shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Greg admitted. “But let’s do it anyway.”

*****

Ami sat quietly to the side as Greg laid out the evidence for Kaijin’s dad, supported by interjections from Kaijin himself. The man listened to them, his face inscrutable, until they finished. He then leaned forwards, and Ami realized that everyone, herself included, was holding their breath.

Which way would things go? As expected, following the path that had been laid out, or...

“You are completely mistaken,” Fushigi Taylor said to them. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you’ve got the wrong man.”

Kaijin shook his head. “Dad, no, I saw the diary, I--"

“There WAS an incident around that time,” the elder Taylor admitted. “I’ll admit to that. But it was not with Greg’s mother. That is to say, I did take his mom out to dinner once or twice, but we never had THAT kind of relationship. So it’s just impossible.”

He looked at Greg.

“Are you certain that something happened with her while she was still in Japan? Because I didn’t see her dating anyone else either - isn’t it possible that she became pregnant right after her return to Canada?”

“No,” Greg said, slumping back in his chair. “I mean, I don’t know, but I thought... that is, my grandma was always a bit strange, but when I did the research on my dad not being my dad, it all pointed to... well, all these connections to Japan. From there, I...“

He pounded his fist against the arm of the chair, straightening again.

“No! I don’t understand. My life story feels like it makes more SENSE if I’m Greg Taylor, that HAS to be the truth!” He looked devastated.

Ami reached out to touch him on the leg, and he didn’t even seem to notice.

Kaijin coughed. “Sooo, dad, you admit there WAS an incident then?” he said, leaning in against his father’s desk and glaring. “What were you thinking? Look at what it’s spiralled into!”

“Yeah,” Mr. Taylor admitted. He scratched at the side of his face with his index finger and shrugged. “I guess I’m sorry?”

“So what do you intend to do about this now?” Kaijin demanded. “Greg’s become a close friend at the very least, so we should support--"

“Oh, leave it be,” Greg interrupted.

“Greg?” Ami murmured.

Greg rose to his feet. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. What’s impossible is impossible, meaning it’s time to move on. Right?” He forced out a smile. “Thank you for meeting us, sir. I apologize about the misunderstanding.”

Mr. Taylor nodded, an uncertain look on his face. Kaijin looked frustrated, but for once he seemed to be at a loss for words. Ami hoped she at least looked supportive, but really, if she was off to Germany, of what use was she to Greg now?

Greg jerked his thumb at Ami. “Kaijin, pretend to be my brother for long enough to make sure she gets to her cram school safely? I’m going for a walk by myself.”

Ami watched Greg leave the room. She snapped her gaze back over to Kaijin. He stepped away from his father’s desk, tiling his head to the side.

“Well, well. I hate to disobey, but I think I’ll have to put the ball back in your court, Ami,” he remarked. “Did you want an escort to your juku? Or do you have better places to be?”

Ami felt her hands clench into fists. Damn it! Why did balls keep ending up in her court?! Urawa, Minako, Kaijin, Greg, and it always happened when there was no time to do a proper analysis. All she knew right now was the thing that she wanted to do the most...

So it was like Minako had said last weekend. Stop thinking, Ami, just act!

She wasn’t sure what expression she was making, but Kaijin simply nodded at her. Without a word, Ami ran out of the office, hoping it wasn’t too late to catch up to Greg.

*****

Greg hefted the stone in his hand and fired it out over the water. It didn’t skip at all. It sank like, well, a stone. He sat back down on the bank of the small lake and sighed.

“I think it’s time to go home now, Greg.”

He flinched, and looked over his shoulder. Ami was there, staring at him, her book bag clutched in both hands. “You’re supposed to be in class!” he protested.

She shrugged. “Surprise! I’m not.”

“What about your friends? Don’t you want to be with them before heading off to Germany tomorrow?”

"Yes." She stepped closer. “That’s why I’m here.”

He flinched again. And her image blurred a little. He quickly turned away, back towards the lake, wiping his arm across his eyes. “You knew I’d come back to this place, huh?”

“Actually, I followed you,” Ami admitted. “From Kaijin’s. But once I realized where you were heading, yeah, I knew. So I hung back, to give you some time. I’ve been watching you ever since.”

Seriously? He’d been here over an hour! “Oh. Sorry to bore you.”

“I wasn’t bored.”

She approached, and sat down next to him.

They remained that way for a short time.

“Know what?” Greg said at last, working at keeping his tone level. “With Kaijin not being my brother, and you leaving, it’s occurred to me that I have no reason to stick around. I might as well head back to Canada.” He chuckled. “I should probably tell Makoto in the morning. If she ends up debunking mysteries surrounding me on Umino’s show, along with her planned segment on explaining how to bake a cake, I’d hate to think she’d end up giving out false information.”

“Don’t worry! Makoto would never give out inaccurate cooking information,” Ami assured him. “She even helped me make your cake that one weekend.”

“Ami, I didn’t mean about the cooking, I meant--" He stopped, because as he turned to look at her, he saw she was grinning at him. “I feel like I have been a bad influence on you.”

She laughed then, and it was joyous. “I think it’s been more the other way around,” she said, nudging at his side. “Getting you to spill all of your secrets to someone, instead of deflecting all the time? My, my, what HAVE you become, Greg Anderson?”

He chuckled. “Beats me. A better person, we can hope?” he said, offering up a wry smile. Now he couldn’t stop looking at her. “I guess there’s just something about you, Ami. It’s like, I didn’t even know I was lonely, until I saw your face. Do you know you’re not simply the first girl I ever kissed, you’re also the first girl I confessed to?”

Her eyes got a bit wider. “Wait, what? When did you ever say...?"

He stretched his arms out back behind himself. “That day at the amusement park. Right after we ran into Minako.”

~~~~~

"You were the first girl I ever actually kissed,” Greg clarified airily. “And I didn't expect you to be awake."

Ami felt her body turning to jelly. How could he just toss that out so calmly?? "Then you admit... you actually... you... WHY?" she demanded, forcing out the question that had been plaguing her all week.

Greg quirked an eyebrow at her. "Why do you think, Ami-chan? Obviously because I LIKE you," he declared with a shrug.

~~~~~

Without warning, she slugged him hard in the arm.

“Ow! Hey, what was that for?” Greg protested, straightening himself and reaching up to rub the point of impact.

“I thought you were JOKING back then,” Ami said. Her obvious irritation was somewhat muted by the cute way she was scrunching up her nose. “That’s not how a normal boy would confess!”

“Yeah, well, I think we’ve covered how my life has been about withdrawing from getting to know anybody that well?” he protested. “Includes ignoring certain social norms. I mean, at this point you DO know that I’m not normal, right?”

“Yeah, well, is anyone?” Ami sighed.

They both looked back out at the lake.

Then, “Greg? I like you too. A lot. To the point of... love.”

His heart soared. He looked at her sidelong, and noticed she was biting her lip. Even when she looked hesitant, she still looked amazing.

“It’s just, with me leaving everybody tomorrow, yourself included..."

His emotional roller coaster plunged back into a downwards direction. “I get it,” he said. He reached out tentatively for her with one hand.

She met him halfway, and their fingers entwined.

He swallowed. “So even though we care for each other, I suppose, in a way, this is our goodbye? Because I don’t think I’ll have it in me to see you off at the airport. Sorry. But I bet all your friends will be there anyway, so it’d just be weird with me too.”

“I’m okay with weird. But I also kind of understand. Do tell me that we’ll at least keep in touch?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. I hope so.”

Looking at her now, he realized the lump in his throat wouldn’t clear, despite repeated swallows.

“The sucky thing is,” he admitted, “after a day like today? I’m really torn now on whether to deflect by trying to skip another stone, or completely break down crying in an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability.”

Ami squeezed his hand. “If it helps, someone once told me that the trick to skipping stones is to relax. To ease up, and act more by instinct.”

“Well, damn. That makes me want to go for the crying,” Greg murmured, even as her image blurred before his eyes again.

Before he knew it, he’d buried his head in her shoulder. He didn’t know which of them initiated the full embrace, but he was glad for it.

It was unclear to him how long they remained that way, curled up against each other, but at some point, once he was emotionally spent, she again suggested that they return home. That time, he didn’t protest.

The last time he saw Ami was the following day. When she left their school. Heading home, get her things.

Which would be followed by her trip to the airport. And her flight to Germany. Suspending, or more likely ending, whatever relationship it was that they seemed to have created together.

Or so he THOUGHT...

*****

“Your story’s not over yet. Meet me tonight at the Bob-Floy ice cream shop.”

Greg gave Urawa a skeptical look. “Why? You miss the boys love cooking exposé on Umino’s show today? I’m not interested in that kind of a relationship, least of all with you.”

“AFTER the shop’s closed, idiot,” Urawa said, rolling his eyes.

Greg scratched his head. “Right. Is this some trick to keep me from seeing Ami off? Because I already decided I wasn’t going to the airport.”

“No. This is because I owe you one,” Urawa said, crossing his arms.

“You owe me one?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Remember our chess match?” Urawa prompted. “With Sewaya? You won your games, I did horribly, and yet you gave me the benefit of the doubt in the last round. So I owe you for that. There’s also the fact that I wouldn’t be here now without your darn speech, and I guess I’ve even also come to realize you’re maybe not that bad of a guy. So, your story with Ami? It’s not over. Not unless you say it is, once I’ve provided you with the missing piece.”

“Uh, okay then. What piece is this about?”

“I only saw one particular scene,” Urawa admitted. “So that’s all I can share. And unfortunately, I haven’t been able to speak about this with Minako yet, owing to her freaking out more than a little ever since Artemis went missing yesterday... but I feel like I’m doing the right thing here.” He leaned in. “So. Will you meet me, or not?”

He did meet Urawa. Greg wasn’t sure why he did, but he did.

And when Urawa said that they had to conceal themselves from view, it made even less sense, but he went along with it. Even when they saw Ami, running down the alleyway at a time when she should have been boarding her plane, he still didn’t get it. Not until...

“Mercury Star Power, Make Up!”

Sailor Mercury disappeared around the corner of the ice cream building.

And Greg finally remembered how to blink.

“Okay. That was a thing,” he said.

“That’s why she stayed,” Urawa said. “To be clear. I mean, maybe part of it was you, but really, that’s why. And if you change your mind about returning to Canada, to stay with her? You’ll be in the thick of whatever this is that’s starting up.”

He leaned in close.

“So. Greg. Do you think you’re up to helping me support Ami from the sidelines? Or are you going to wimp out instead?”

“A-Ah. Only from the sidelines, huh?”

“They fight. We don’t. That’s how it works. Maybe it’s even part of the reason I ran away from her once, worrying that there would come a day when I’d have another vision of...” Urawa sighed, and rubbed his forehead. “Look, this is an exclusive club of people in the know. If you’re in, fine, but if you’re out, you’re better to be out-of-Japan out. There really isn’t a middle ground.”

Greg nodded. “Meaning, if I stay, I’ll have to tell her what I saw here.”

“Yeah, no kidding! I’d hurt you if you weren’t truthful with Ami after this. And while we’re on the subject, something else I’ve seen, which you two need to talk about? That charm you were playing with last weekend.”

Greg frowned. “Given your sudden insights, I’m surprised I ever got the upper hand.”

Urawa smiled wryly. “We can only play based on how the chess board is set up.” He stood. “Pretty sure I have my answer. Our debts are square now. Know that if you screw up, I’ll still be here. Consider that a warning.”

He gave Greg a salute, and then turned and walked away.

*****

Ami tried to open her front door as quietly as she could. She crept inside, hauling along the luggage that she’d retrieved from Mamoru’s car after their battle. If Greg was already asleep, she didn’t want to wake him.

She needed time to come up with a good reason for staying in Japan. A plausible reason, one that wouldn’t jeopardize whatever the two of them had, one that wouldn’t make HER the one with the horrible secret from now on...

The living room light clicked on. He was staring at her from across the room.

“Greg!” Ami gasped. She looked down at her suitcase. “It’s so silly, I realized I forgot something, so I--"

“Yup, I was right,” Greg interrupted. “You’ve got that bitter secrets look again... Marmalade Mercury.”

Her grip tightened. MERCURY? No way could he mean...

He smiled at her. “Urawa... was maybe right about my habit of having the worst timing. I happened to be near the ice cream shop at the right time to see you transform.”

Ami dropped her case entirely, jumping toward him. “But I didn’t see anyone there? And you’ve got it wrong anyway. And you can’t tell anyone! Oh, Greg, I don’t want you hurt,” she gasped, her thoughts a mess of confusion as she seized him by the shirt.

He seemed startled for a moment, but then he simply reached out to take her by the shoulders. “Okay, Ami, first? Stay calm. I’m crazy out of my depth here, so I’ll follow your lead on everything. Second? I’m not upset. You obviously can’t print out laminated cards for people with your secret identity on them. In fact, if anything, I’m glad this kept you in Japan, within arm’s reach. Third?” He paused. “Those were real nice boots. I’d love to see you model them for me some time.”

Ami felt a heat rising in her cheeks. Which, despite the circumstances, made her feel like things were somehow normalizing between them. How could that be, with her Senshi identity on the line? “Are you finished?”

“Nearly. Fourth?” He pulled his hand away from her to reach into his pocket. And he pulled out the light blue temple charm with the two M’s and the small heart emblazoned on it.

What? How on earth had he snuck that away from her?! Ami quickly pushed her hand into her own pocket. Only to feel that the familiar circular object was still there.

“I ended up at this shrine,” Greg continued, looking at the medallion in his hand. “On the weekend before that chess match, where we all encountered Sewaya. While there, I got to talking with some dark haired girl, one of the shrine maidens I guess, and she gave me this temple charm. Supposedly it bonds people together if you put their picture inside, no matter the distance. Which, I know, that isn’t in any way scientific, and then with you leaving I thought, why should I even mention that I had the thing lest it freak you out, and hey, maybe it’s just a publicity stunt for said Shrine, but anyway, shortly after I got it I decided to..."

His voice trailed off. Because she had brought out the medallion’s twin. With her thumb, she flicked open the catch. Revealing his picture.

His eyes widened. And he did likewise.

Revealing a picture of her own face in his medallion.

Ami could scarcely believe it. It couldn’t be mere coincidence. Not something like this. It meant so much more. A tear blinked out of her eye as she embraced him.

“Know what?” Ami murmured by his ear. “Maybe, deep down, part of my uncertainty was a belief that nobody could really love me forever. Not given the whole Mercury part of my life. So, since Urawa knew from before, he was always in the running.”

His hands ran up and down her back. “Then all I can say is, I’m glad I’m a part of it now too,” Greg said. “Though, I guess I’m not totally sure that forever is what love’s all about? Because based on my history, it sure seems to me that it has its shares of ups and downs.”

He pulled back to look at her.

“I want to share that ride with you though, Ami Mizuno. If you’ll have me?”

Ami looked up at him. “Oh, I will. If you’re staying in Japan, despite how it played out about your dad?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying. Come what may, I’ll be here for you. Because I... I love you.”

She beamed at him, knowing her cheeks were tinting darker, and not even caring.

He coughed. “Actually, funny story? My first flight in, it ended up being a day earlier than when I’d said it would be. So, rather than disturb you and your mom, I got a hotel room and wandered around the neighbourhood. Meaning I actually saw you before we even met, at--"

Ami raised her finger to press it against his lips. “So talky all of a sudden. Perhaps social norms dictate leaving crazy stories for another time, after that confession?”

Greg nodded. “Sorry,” he continued as she pulled her finger back. “Just, nerves, I guess. Now that this relationship is a thing. Actually, are you sure you don’t want to hear about this commercial they’re shooting nearby, I was told it might..."

Ami laughed. This time, she cut Greg off with a kiss.

In the end, she didn’t know how long their happiness would last. But she intended to make the most of it, for as long it did... on this new pathway forwards, into the uncertain future.

<closing theme>

END SERIES

(Final Deconstruction Post to follow)

Previous	Chapter Links	Next
	*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_* EP 15a: IMPACT OF A CONFESSION - HOW LONG WILL THIS HAPPINESS LAST? <opening theme>

“Why are we hiding from them?”

“Shhh,” Makoto whispered. She pushed aside some of the foliage of the bushes, to give them a better look. “See? It’s just as I thought. Strange!”

Ami turned her attention towards where Makoto was indicating. Greg and Kaijin were having lunch together, laughing and talking together like old friends. Which, granted, made less than no sense, given how withdrawn Greg had been around everybody since his arrival. Makoto was sure it meant something... and Ami had to grant her the point, otherwise why would those two be acting like this at school, of all places, where gossip was bound to spread even faster?

“You think maybe Greg’s trying to pressure you into making the first move or something?” Makoto prompted. “Figuring you’re more likely to pull him away from dating a guy than from another girl? Or could it be that, deep down, he just has a thing for blue hair no matter what the gender?”

Ami pursed her lips.

When Makoto had called her the day before, she’d admitted to the fact that, despite holding firm to her relationship decision, she hadn’t confessed to Greg yet. But she’d played up the angle of not being sure about how he would respond, rather than admitting that she might be in Germany by this time next week. Rendering the whole thing moot.

Except, would it be moot? Greg’s picture was now in her medallion, Rei’s temple charm, which would link the two of them, no matter what the distance...

“No. Greg and Kaijin, they’re just good friends,” Ami decided. “I mean, you and me, we spend time together like that. It doesn’t mean we’re dating, does it?”

Makoto blinked over at her. Ami held her gaze. Wait, were Makoto’s cheeks colouring? For a moment, Ami felt her own cheeks growing warm. No! Crazy thoughts, go away!

“What are you two doing standing out here in the middle of the bushes?”

Ami flinched, and looked to her other side, seeing Umino had somehow crept up on them. With a video camera.

It wasn’t pointed at her and Makoto though, Umino was aiming it out towards Greg and Kaijin. “Well, we’re not filming evidence!” she snapped, embarrassed at being caught spying. “I swear, if I’d known you’d end up creeping around like this today, I never would have appeared on your show last week.”

“A good reporter goes where the stories are,” Umino asserted, adjusting his swirly glasses. “And those two guys are the hottest couple of the week! Alas, since I’ve had them both on my show already, I figure I’ll need to get someone else to discuss the footage I’m recording here. Makoto, are you game?”

“Hah! I’m only going on your show if I get to talk cooking,” Makoto asserted.

Umino shrugged. “Oh well. Hey, is that a fancy calculator?”

Ami followed Umino’s gaze, discovering that her Mercury mini-computer was partly poking out of her school bag.

Usagi had asked them all to meet after classes at the Shrine, apparently there was some pink haired girl pretending to be a cousin who had infiltrated her house the night before. Ami had thought that having her high-tech device along might be useful.

Ami quickly pushed it back out of view.

“Yeah, and it tells fortunes and plays games too,” Makoto said, sarcastically. “Isn’t it time you found somewhere else to be?”

“Fortunes, eh?” Umino said, failing to take the hint. “Know what I got when I plugged Greg and Kaijin into one of those electronic compatibility tests? A perfect match.”

“That’s just... ridiculous,” Ami sighed.

“You can't always trust those matchmaking services,” Makoto agreed, albeit more hesitantly.

“Computers don’t lie,” Umino protested. “Speaking of, Ami, has Kaijin ever been over to your house to see Greg?”

Ami felt her chest tighten. “Wh-What? MY house? How is that even..."

“Oh, yeah, hey, I followed Greg home from his work yesterday,” Umino said, grinning. “Because of all the gossip, to see if he’d meet Kaijin in secret. He went to your place. I thought that was weird, so I hacked the school records, and discovered how you have the same address. But hey, maybe I won’t tell anyone, as long as you can get me some candid..."

“U-mi-no. Surely you’re not about to blackmail Ami?” Makoto said, leaning in closer to him, narrowing her eyes.

Umino pulled at his collar. “A-hahaha! Ohh, no ma’am. Silly me. I’m sure I have enough material for my show here already, we newspeople can overdo things, please nobody hit me with a textbook.”

Ami almost laughed at the exchange. Except, did it even matter now, keeping the housing situation a secret? She was going to Germany. Her face fell instead. “Know what? I don’t even mind if people find out Greg lives in my house.”

Makoto’s gaze snapped over to her. “Ami...?"

“I mean, the truth there is bound to come out eventually,” she said quickly. “And it’s such a small thing now, when there’s much more important things for us to worry about lately. Don’t you think?” Like Germany. She was going, right? Who should she even talk to first? Greg? Usagi? Makoto? Someone else?

Umino adjusted his glasses again. “Right, big issues. Like boys love! Ami, as you live with the guy, would you care to offer up an explanation for Greg’s sexual preferences?”

For some annoying reason, Ami was reminded of what Minako’s parting words to Greg had been, back when she’d been describing how they’d broken up...

~~~~~

"You're crazy!" Minako finally shouted out after him. "What, love just isn't in your vocabulary any more? Is it impossible for you to care about a girl?"

~~~~~

“No. Comment,” Ami asserted, grabbing her bag and back-pedalling out of the shrubbery. She heard Makoto saying something to Umino about burning his video footage before following after her.

*****

“Urawa? We have a problem.”

He let Minako in without another word. “I know,” Urawa said, shaking his head. “It was all around the school today. Greg and Kaijin? I don’t get it. How could that guy--"

“Oh no. No no no. No no,” Minako repeated, leaning in close to him. Urawa ended up pressed up against his front door, moments after he’d closed it. “No, PROB-LEM.”

“Oh.” Urawa flicked his gaze left and right. “Am I going to want to sit down for this?”

Minako seemed to think about that for a moment. “Yes,” she decided at last.

They adjourned to the living room.

“So,” Minako began, “yesterday, some Chibi-Usagi interrupted Usagi’s date. She appeared out of a cloud, and pulled a toy gun on her, or possibly jumped back into the cloud, and actually that’s part’s a bit unclear to me, but my point is she’s in Usagi’s old photos as her cousin!” She stopped, and looked at him earnestly.

“Okay. Cousins can be annoying,” Urawa agreed, not sure where she was going with the story.

“No, no, don’t you get it? Rei tried to get a reading on the fake photos a short time ago, and it didn’t work, and we were all drugged, and Sailor Moon had to appear to save this pink haired Usagi from a new threat!”

Urawa cleared his throat. “Okay, uh, now this sounds like Senshi business. Should you be telling me all this?”

Minako gestured vaguely. “Oh, maybe not. But you know about us through your power, and no one’s said I can’t talk to you, so for now I have implausible reliability.”

Urawa opened his mouth, closed it again, then shrugged. “You do have that.”

Minako made a noise of exasperation. “You’re still not getting it. What, is it that you’re still planning to go after Ami?”

“Minako, please,” Urawa sighed. “Not after my last vision. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that not only has Ami made her choice, she and Greg are tied together by some string of fate.”

“And do you think that thread also extends to Mercury??”

It finally clicked. “Oh, man. You’re right, Greg doesn’t know about her secret identity. Minako, do you think the Senshi all going to be needed again to fight evil? Sometime soon? With Ami too?”

“I dunno,” Minako confessed. “All I know is PROB-LEM. To the point where Ami might want a guy she can confide in. And that might end up being you by default. So, heads up!”

Urawa ran his palm down over his face. “It’s never easy.”

*****

“I’ve been neglecting you. I apologize for that.”

Greg leaned in against the back of the couch, where Ami seemed to be staring at her textbook - reading seemed like too generous a word. She turned to look at him, as his arms were resting near her head. “You can spend all the time you want with Kaijin,” she answered, offering up a shrug. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He tilted his head. “Not even a little bit?”

Ami closed her text and reached out to grab the papers on the coffee table. “I should be doing my schoolwork in my room.”

“Wait,” Greg said, quickly coming around the side of the couch. “Sorry. Stop. Spill.”

“Spill WHAT?” she demanded.

Greg shrugged. “I dunno. But it’s Tuesday night, three days after that big news you got, and you’ve still got that marmalade look about you.”

“I’ve got what now?” Ami asked, reaching up to touch the side of her mouth in confusion. Which, on the plus side for him, kept her from standing up.

“That bitter secrets look,” Greg corrected, smiling as he sat down next to her. “I teased you with the comparison once before, that first week--"

“I remember,” she countered, going tight-lipped. The look made him wince.

“Sorry,” Greg apologized again, smile fading. “I meant it more tongue in cheek then, but more seriously now. As in, I’m not teasing. It’s only, it looks to me like you’ve been bottling something up. Again. Very unhealthy. And while normally I’d try to take your mind off of it, my own mind’s a little preoccupied lately too. So, I don’t know, maybe the two of us can prop each other up this time somehow?”

“Oh, what, meaning you’re actually going to reveal your feelings about something to me?” Ami fired off.

He flinched back a little at her tone.

She seemed equally taken aback, bringing her hand back up to cover her mouth.

“Yeeeah, no, okay, I deserved that one,” he yielded quickly. “So don’t apologize, assuming you were even going to. In retrospect, it IS kinda silly to think that I can talk to Kaijin and not you. Not when you’re... uh...“

He found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

He forged on. “Look, you know why I’m not quashing the rumours about Kaijin and me, right? It’s because that whole Minako incident I told you about, it’s become lost in the new sensationalism.”

“I didn’t know that at all,” Ami said. Her gaze softened, even as she looked away from him. “Though I suppose that does make sense.” She sighed. “While on my end, I guess I’m out of sorts because it’s been a bit confusing with me and my friends lately. Usagi in particular.”

Ami abruptly turned back to him.

“See, she’s got some cousin staying with her now, a Chibi-Usagi, who isn’t really supposed to be there,” Ami explained. “On top of that, earlier tonight, she told us that Mamoru, her boyfriend, broke up with her. Which, I mean, that’s crazy! It HAS to be a misunderstanding, but between that, and something else that happened yesterday, it’s making me wonder if now is a bad time for me to--"

She froze up. Greg lifted his eyebrow. “Bad time to what?”

Ami slowly shook her head. “No. No, I-- I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t talk to you, not when I feel like, somehow, we still don’t understand each other. We’re not at that level of comfort yet. I... we’ll talk another time, okay?” She reached again for her textbook.

Greg wasn’t sure what part of him said that it was now or never. Or why he chose to listen to that part of himself either. But as he started to speak, he realized there was no going back. “My thing is, Kaijin’s my blood brother,” Greg said.

He tried to sound nonchalant, but felt he was failing at it.

“Which is the reason for my obsessing over Japan the last several years. It’s what led to that speech that apparently inspired Sewaya’s dad, and then me being here myself, and meeting you... in fact, I only came to Japan, to this district, to meet my Dad.”

Ami turned her head.

The protest ‘I’m not joking, really’ died in his throat as she settled back onto the couch, staring at him. Because she wasn’t staring at him as if she couldn’t believe the audacity of his lies at a time like this. No, Ami was staring at him as if, maybe, she was seeing him for the first time. He wondered what look he had on his face. He hoped he didn’t look like some sort of lost puppy.

“You don’t look Japanese,” she said quietly. “So you’ll have to explain that one.”

Greg let out a shaky breath. “Well, my Mom really is Canadian. She was here on an exchange herself once, it was, well, I guess about a year before I was born. And she met Fushigi Taylor, Kaijin’s Dad, and with a name like that I guess he’s only half Japanese too, so I don’t know, maybe that’s part of it... genetics are weird. Anyway, they had this fling... together... and Mom didn’t know she was pregnant when she came back to Canada. I’m not sure if Mr. Taylor even knows the whole truth.”

He realized he was curling up on the couch, and made himself stop. But as he began to stretch his legs back out, Ami’s hand moved to touch him gently on the thigh. “And your mother and father, the Andersons?” Ami asked softly.

Greg swallowed. He’d never even told anyone this much before! Could he really go on? He couldn’t seem to look directly at Ami any more. He focussed on a spot on a the wall behind her. “They don’t know that I know,” he said quietly.

“I found out by reading some letters that my grandmother had kept,” he admitted slowly, “which I discovered after she had passed on. But, I mean, my Canadian parents have been great and all, very supportive of my strange whims! Such as my wanting to travel to England for six months, as a trial run, somewhere overseas where they actually still spoke English.” He coughed. “Did Minako ever mention how we met...?"

“Yeah,” Ami murmured. “She did.”

“Right. So it was sort of a stroke of luck, running into your father in Ottawa after that, and getting everything set up here. After I arrived, at first, I wanted context for what life was like in Japan before confronting Kaijin’s... uh, my dad. In case I was asked to stay. But at this point, well, I’m basically chickening out. Though turns out I was also totally wrong about who Kaijin was, wasting a bunch of time keeping an eye on the wrong guy.”

He shook his head.

“Never believe everything you see on the world wide web.”

Ami blinked. “Why, who did you think Kaijin was?”

Greg shrugged. “That weird guy in class with the short brown hair and the glasses who seems to be trying to grow a beard? I’m glad I’m not related to him, Kaijin’s got a better sense of humour.”

“Ah.” Ami repositioned herself, and somehow he found that he was looking at her again. “But, now that you and Kaijin are actually getting along, you’re thinking of actually confronting your Dad?” she prompted.

Greg ran his fingers back through his hair. “I dunno. Yeah? I guess?” He swallowed. “When I do, would you like to come with?”

Her jaw dropped. “You... want me there...?"

He’d said it without really thinking about it. “I... yeah. Yeah, I do. It doesn’t need to be any time soon though. I just figure... uh, yeah.”

Ami seemed to deflate a little. “Kinda would need to be soon, if so. My news is that I got a scholarship to study medicine in Germany. I leave this Friday night.”

Greg felt his own jaw drop. “Wow. Congratulations.” He quickly connected the dots. “So you’re wondering if now is a bad time to leave your friends?”

Ami pressed both hands to her forehead. “Nnnngh, yeah. Damn it, why does it feel like everything’s happening all at ONCE? I haven’t even told anyone else about my going away yet. What if the others think I’m running from my problems? Or worse, what if they support me and throw me this big going away party that just makes me so sad I’ll hate leaving? But I have to say something, and there’s only three days left!”

“Well, speaking as an authority on long overseas trips, I suspect your first priority would be..." He raised his eyebrows. “Learning German.”

She glared at him. “Ich kenne Deutsch.”

Of course she knew the language. Ami was amazing. He clapped his hands. “Outstanding! I had a devil of a time with Japanese. You’re way ahead of me there.”

“Oh, you’re doing fine.” She looked at him more thoughtfully. “Come to think, what did you say to your friends when you left Canada?”

“Um. Well.” He tried to smile. “Kind of a non-issue? Ever since I learned about my family situation, I’ve kinda withdrawn from getting to know anybody that well. Fear of betrayal, maybe, or this sense that my entire existence was somehow invalid...? I don’t know, point is I didn’t really leave anyone behind when I came here.”

“Oh, Greg..." With one hand back at her mouth, she reached out to touch his leg again with the other.

He realized he was curling up once more. He made himself stop. “Know what though?” he decided. “If you’ll be finding the courage to tell your friends about Germany, I can find the courage to face my Dad. Yeah. In fact, I’m going to go call Kaijin right now, and ask if there’s an evening this week that will work.”

He began to rise, then froze in place.

“Unless you think that’s a terrible idea.”

Ami shook her head, smiling again. “No, I don’t. Please don’t rush on my account though.”

He smiled back at her, and finished standing up. “I’m not. I see it more as striking while the iron is hot. Because, see, I’ve never been able to tell anyone all of that before. Ever. And opening up to you in that way, well, it makes me believe that I can do it with Mr. Taylor too. So thanks for the help there, Ami. So much. Really. I’m... I’m actually so happy right now.”

Ami nodded, and now she was blushing in that very cute way at him, which made his heart soar even more. In fact, his own cheeks felt warm for some reason too... he quickly turned away, heading for the phone extension in the other room.

There would be time enough to deal with whatever romantic implications existed between them later. Right now, it was time to set a date for determining, once and for all, whether he would be accepted into the Taylor family.

To know, effectively, whether his name would remain Greg Anderson... or whether it would become Greg Taylor.

<commercial break; Ami, Greg and Urawa skating, they trip over Ami's computer.>

Previous	Chapter Links	Next
	*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_* EP 14b: QUALIFICATION OF LOVE - THINGS AREN’T GOING AS PLANNED

<commercial break; Ami, Greg and Kaijin skating, they trip over Ami's computer>

It all made sense now, Ami decided. That talk with Minako had helped immensely.

The reason she’d hesitated on admitting anything to Greg was because, despite everything that had happened between them? She wasn’t entirely sure how Greg would respond. It wasn’t even that she feared rejection, exactly... it was more that she feared the one she cared for was incapable of taking it seriously enough.

But that didn’t change the way she felt.

Ami finished cutting up the picture, one that her mother had managed to take of them at some point over the last month. She traced her finger around the image of Greg, then slipped it into the medallion that Rei had given her.

The one that would bond the two of them together, distance or no distance.

She then snapped the light blue locket shut, and, clutching it tightly in her hand, she went down to watch some television. Hoping that doing so would help take her mind off of the conversation that would happen as soon as Greg got home.

Strangely, for some reason, the episode that was airing on the channel didn’t match what it said it should be in the TV Guide. This series seemed to have started playing episodes out of order.

*****

“You know,” Motoki said, dryly. “What you do on your own time is none of my business, but what you do at work..."

Greg shook the mop at his employer. “I said it’s not like that.”

Minako had run off almost immediately after Motoki had exposed the two of them being in the closet together. Presumably she’d done so to continue avoiding Sewaya, who had also run off, possibly in pursuit.

Leaving Greg to clean up the mess, both in terms of the spilled drink and the social fallout. At least Minako had apologized as she’d fled.

“I went back there to look for a mop and bucket,” Greg continued as he finished cleaning up the spilled drink. “But the faucet was stuck. Next thing I know, Minako’s jumping into the room with me and closing the door on us. Really, I think she was as surprised to find me back there as I was to see her, seeing as she nearly fell on top of me as she turned around. I’d only just figured out that she was trying to hide from Sewaya when you burst in on the two of us. Nothing happened.”

Motoki quirked an eyebrow.

Honestly, Greg didn’t think the guy looked that mad. He had almost decided to deflect and not explain at all, except, based on the murmurings of the other customers in the Game Centre? It felt like saying nothing would be problematic in the long run.

“Well, your story almost checks,” Motoki said after a moment. “Except how is it you went for a mop and bucket before the drink got spilled? Do you have precognitive abilities or something?”

Shoot. Good point. Greg rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, no, that would be silly,” he admitted. “It’s just, the floor looked a bit dirty.”

“Mmm hmm. And the name Kaijin Taylor doesn’t mean anything to you?”

Greg nearly lost his grip on the mop handle. “What? Wait, why would you bring that name up now?!”

Motoki rolled his eyes. “He was here. Said he’d chased you into the back? You must know him. About this tall, blue hair, from your school...?"

Now Greg found he needed to use the mop as a support to keep from falling over. “No. TH-THAT was Kaijin? But I thought he was..." He jerked his gaze around the Game Centre. No sign of the guy any more. Of course. “D-Do you know where he went?!”

“Home?” Motoki said with a shrug. “Claimed you’d want his phone number, but as I said to him, I’m not his messenger service. Maybe he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Urk,” Greg said, his hands sliding down the mop handle. “I-If he shows up, let me know? I really do need that guy’s phone number. Okay?”

“Hmph. We’ll see. No meeting with this Kaijin in the broom closet either, understood?” Motoki said, shaking his head as he finally turned away.

Behind Greg, someone gasped. “Of course. If Greg didn’t do anything with Minako it’s gotta be because he goes THAT way.”

Greg turned his head, but he had no idea who had spoken. Not that it mattered. The rumour mill would probably be all over the place after the events of the last five minutes... though frankly, he deserved whatever he got for having missed the significance of blue-haired-library-guy’s advances.

Kaijin Taylor... damn. Greg hoped he’d be able to keep it together for the rest of his shift.

*****

Urawa reached out quickly to catch Minako before she could fall to the floor. “Minako! What happened?” he gasped.

Minako took a few seconds to catch her breath before rolling her eyes up to meet Urawa’s gaze. “You. Would. Not. Believe. The. Morning. I’ve. Had,” she wheezed.

After a quick glance outside, Urawa helped Minako all the way into his apartment. “Sewaya?” he divined. She nodded. “Before or after you saw Ami?”

“After,” Minako said, leaning against the wall. “There were hijinks. I finally lost him. You got a place to hide me, in case he turns up here?”

“Uh, sure. Always. Here, let me get you a glass of water.”

Minako waited until she’d caught her breath, had a drink, and had moved to sit across from Urawa in his living room before continuing. “Right. So. Hijinks first? Or bad news?”

Urawa slumped a bit in his chair. “I think I can guess the bad news, based on what I’ve already seen.”

Minako blinked. “Seen what now?”

Urawa ran his fingers back through his hair. “I had another one of my visions. It’s related to everything.” He began to go into detail.

*****

Kaijin hadn’t returned to his work that afternoon. As such, Greg was still kicking himself as he arrived back at home that evening, and it took him a full minute of leaning against the wall to consider his next move before he registered how Ami was sitting by herself in the living room.

“Hey,” he said, offering up a wave as he came around the couch. “Are you all studied out for the day, or did you feel like talking some geography after dinner... I really wasn’t lying about it yesterday.”

She winced.

He frowned. “Alternatively,” he decided. “There’s always ice cream. I hear Bobsons’ is renaming itself Bob-Floy for some reason, they might have promotional deals on.”

Ami shook her head, and he now noticed that she seemed to be clutching a piece of paper in her hand. “No,” she managed. “Thank you. It’s just... I got some news. A couple hours ago. I have a lot of thinking to do. And you can’t help me with this. Not right now.”

Greg rubbed his chin, staring quietly at Ami. It didn’t look like she was in a stressed-out overthinking state of mind. She still seemed to be absorbing the impact of something. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be cooking dinner then, so don’t worry about that.”

Ami nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”

He turned to head into the kitchen. “Also, don’t worry about the rumours about Minako cornering me in the broom closet. Those’ll die down soon enough.”

“Sure,” Ami repeated from behind him.

Greg began to count the seconds in his head. It took almost ten until the exclamation of, “wait, WHAT?”

Ami obviously had a lot on her mind.

He’d keep the explanation brief, just long enough to divert her mind from whatever had been on that paper. To help whatever news she’d received to finally sink in.

*****

“You want to come up?”

Mamoru turned away from looking across the street to focus back on Kato. “I don’t know. Will you finally explain whatever it is you’ve wanted to say since Motoki accosted us earlier today?”

Kato flinched. “Wait, you... you knew he meant me?”

“I didn’t at the time,” Mamoru admitted. “But you calling me this evening, asking if I was free for coffee? And the way you’ve acted for the past hour, including asking me to walk you home? Yeah, it makes things a bit more clear.”

“Oh.” Kato’s eyes fell to the ground. “So do I even have to say it?”

Mamoru sighed. “Yeah, I think maybe you do. Otherwise you’ll wonder if the answer might have been different if you’d actually come out with it.”

Kato looked back up at him. “You’re saying knowing my feelings won’t make a difference.” She wanted to make it a question, but it felt more like a statement.

Mamoru shrugged. “There’s a lot more going on here than you realize.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Kato said, not sure if she was smiling or grimacing. “Your life has never been easy since the car accident, right?”

“Yeah, well, the full story actually has to do with reincarnation, protection of the Earth, and strangely enough, a psychic projection of my subconscious desires manifesting itself in an Arabian costume.”

Kato’s smile vanished. “If you’re not going to be SERIOUS..."

“Sorry. I meant to say I have strange dreams,” Mamoru revised, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish look. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m testing myself somehow.”

Kato sighed. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so admired, yet so quiet and mysterious. Powering through the pain you had to be experiencing. I’m not sure if it was one of those qualities in particular, or the combination that... drew me to you.”

He said nothing at first. At last, he seemed to realize that she was waiting for some sort of response. “You never said anything.”

“I’m bad for that,” Kato admitted. “But Motoki’s right. It has to be out in the open between us. Otherwise there might be misunderstandings, as with that Kaijin guy. And I don’t want to do that to you, I care about you too much. You understand that I care, right?”

Mamoru nodded slowly. “Yes. Except it’s like you said. Knowing your feelings here, it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry. I hope you can believe that.”

Kato bit down on her lower lip. “This Usagi means that much to you?”

He smiled. “She means the world to me. In a somewhat literal way, actually.”

Kato looked closely at him. Then she slowly nodded. “I understand. So you’re not coming up, huh?” she added, half joking, half hoping against hope...

Mamoru sighed. “More than that, it’s probably better if we don’t see each other again. Or at least, not for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh.” Kato swallowed. She forced out a laugh. “Well, hey, I had been considering a job in real estate out in Hiroshima, so..."

“Look, I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I feel like it’s better to make a clean break on romantic relationships,” Mamoru explained. “No hesitation, no second guessing. I mean, know that you can still call on me if you need a friend? But it has to be just as a friend.”

Kato gazed into his eyes. Then she nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

Mamoru nodded. “You too.” He turned and headed off down the road.

Kato watched him go for the first few steps, then clenched her jaw, nodded, and headed into the building.

*****

Makoto had once been told that, owing to her height, she had a “looming presence”. She normally tried to minimize that. Sometimes, however, the situation called for exploitation of that fact. Surely it wasn’t possible to ignore her for much longer?

At last, Kaijin turned from where he had been scrutinizing one of the video games. “Oh, hey, Makoto, didn’t see you there.”

“As if,” she challenged. “What the deal, Kaijin?”

He scratched his head. “Five card stud, nothing wild?”

“You’ve been distracting Greg from his job all morning,” Makoto pointed out. “People are starting to talk.”

“Ooh, gossip! Excellent. What are people saying about me these days?” He smiled in what Makoto decided was meant to be a charming manner.

Makoto simply glared back. “Mostly that the embarrassment of being seen with Minako has chased Greg out of the closet and into your arms. I think it’s time you set the record straight.”

Kaijin tilted his head. “Oh? Well, I have two questions related to that. First, why should it be me going on record, and not Greg? He’ll be back here any minute, once he’s dealt with that game token issue. You can talk to him then.”

Makoto fumbled to find the words. “Greg doesn’t say much as it is. Someone trying to be the student body president should be able to articulate himself better. Don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Kaijin nodded. “But second, curious choice of words, set the record ‘straight’. What if that’s not the way the record is? How can you claim to know better?”

Makoto quickly glanced around the Game Centre to see if anyone was listening to them. “Look, Kaijin, Greg likes Ami!” she hissed quietly.

Kaijin’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “He told you that?”

Makoto felt her mouth twitch. “Well, no, but didn’t I just say Greg doesn’t say much?”

“Ahh, yes.” Kaijin rubbed his chin. “Funny, he’s had a lot to say to me today..."

Makoto flexed her hands, and ultimately spun away. Arguing with the guy was futile. Plus, was it possible that there was something going on that she didn’t know about?

She hadn’t spoken with Ami since Friday at the swings. Was it possible that Ami had confessed to Greg, and he’d turned her down? Maybe her irritation was being misdirected here. Maybe she really should be angry with Greg instead, for playing with her friend’s feelings.

Makoto resolved to give Ami a call as soon as she could.

****

Elsewhere, Mamoru and Usagi were finally on their date in the park. But it was as they moved closer, to kiss, that Mamoru felt something bounce off his head. Moments later, the atmosphere was completely shattered by the arrival of a small, pink haired girl... who then claimed that she was also called ‘Usagi’.

At roughly the same time, in her bedroom, Ami crumpled the sheet in her hand. Of course, it was only a printout of the message she had received the previous afternoon. The message that changed everything, that remained, and could not be crumpled.

News that made her more mixed up than ever, not only about her romantic situation, but about her entire life path from this point onwards. The scholarship she had applied for, to study medicine in Germany, had been granted.

She had less than a week to decide if she was going to leave town for good.

<closing theme>

Previous	Chapter Links	Next
	*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_* EP 14a: QUALIFICATION OF LOVE - THINGS AREN’T GOING AS PLANNED <opening theme>

Greg bit into an apple as he scanned over the note on the kitchen table. It had been left there by Ami's mother, and it indicated that she'd had to switch shifts with that Dr. Tavolite guy, which in turn meant that she wouldn't be able to hold the "family" barbecue that had been informally set for this weekend. She promised to make it up to them somehow.

He was starting to realize that Mrs. Mizuno’s absences from the house were par for the course, and not merely due to that big medical conference she’d helped to organize the previous weekend.

Shrugging, Greg went to retrieve the toast which had popped up. Sitting down at the table, he proceeded to eat his breakfast while considering the last couple of days.

Ami had made a decision. Which... had to do with Urawa and Minako? At least, that was what he'd deduced from Ami's mood after the quiz match, followed by the discussion out front with Urawa the previous night. (Good thing he'd remembered to go back out and retrieve his bicycle before going to sleep.) Had Ami chosen him for a relationship by default?

Was such a thing even possible?

The truth was that, the last couple days, he'd deliberately avoided talking with Ami about the situation. He'd sensed trouble as soon as Ami had asked him about Minako and Urawa making a good couple, because the whole Minako and Urawa situation didn't ring true somehow.

Granted, he knew Minako could be a fast mover, and if Sewaya liked Minako then why couldn’t his cousin Urawa develop a similar interest? It wasn’t impossible.

But then, Minako might instead need help with her schoolwork and not want to approach Ami. Urawa could be giving Minako tips on dealing with his cousin. Heck, Minako might even be trying to learn chess to try and impress Greg himself in some way!

No, they weren't going out. And once Ami realized that she was overreacting, the situation was likely to stalemate again.

Greg shook his head. There was no way he could be in the running forever. But Ami, she was so... so... words failed him. They always did when it counted.

Greg sighed. Well, it didn’t matter. He'd taken Friday off work to avoid seeing anyone, going to that nice scenic pond again for some self care. After all, he’d be working all this weekend, in place of last weekend; Greg couldn't in good conscience cancel out on Motoki two weeks running. Even if last night's encounter out front indicated another shift in Ami’s choices and decisions.

Greg mused briefly on whether anything would have happened between Ami and Urawa if he hadn't arrived. Probably not? But... well, no, he didn't want to think about it. Placing his dishes in the sink, Greg glanced briefly over towards the stairs - it seemed Ami was still asleep - then he headed out the front door.

*****

Ami heard the door close downstairs. She was still sitting in bed, feeling mysteriously drained of energy. She knew it wasn't some youma attack though, as even if the Senshi stuff wasn’t all behind them for now, that had a different feel to it. No, this was Ami feeling her decision weighing heavily on her.

She had picked Greg.

Was it because she'd thought Urawa was right for Minako? Or because she’d thought Greg was right for her?

Well, she hadn’t told Greg. Why not?

Going back to waffling on Urawa and Greg now really wasn't a viable solution. Meaning she had to either do a 180 or a 360. Or maybe she should work on some trig first? Her stomach grumbled indicating there was breakfast to consider too. But both those options required getting up.

With a sigh, Ami rolled out of bed and went to peer out the corner of the window, wondering if she’d spot Greg walking away.

Instead, she saw Minako approaching. Ami hurriedly got dressed.

*****

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast,” Minako apologized, following Ami into the kitchen.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ami assured. “I saw you coming, and figured no time like the present in terms of clearing the air between us. I’d only be staring into a fruit salad and worrying about why you’d come if I hadn’t let you in. You want some too?”

“Uhm, sure,” Minako replied. She leaned back against the wall, clasping her hands behind her head. “So, Ami, here’s the thing. I have a fan club now.”

Ami’s hand nearly slipped as she was cutting the apples. “O-kay? Like, a Sailor Venus thing, all anonymous...?"

“Nope!” Minako said brightly. “Three upper classmen at my school. Approached me after school on Friday. It changes everything, right?”

Ami stared blankly.

Minako realized she needed to elaborate. “Okay, well, first of all, means I’ve still got it,” she said, winking.

Ami rolled her eyes and resumed cutting.

“For another, it means I’ve got people at school who will help keep Sewaya off my back, whether I’m dating or not,” Minako added. “They’re nice and protective of me that way. And finally, it kind of crystallized things for me with Greg, finally.”

Ami flinched again.

Minako sighed. “I’m gonna stop talking until you’re done with the knife.”

“S-Sorry. I’m being careful, really.”

Minako made a face. “If you’re sure. Thing is, Greg’s someone who got away from me once. I mentioned he happened before the whole Sailor V thing, right?”

Ami nodded.

“Good. Thing is, ever since then, I can write off the relationships that don’t work out as, hey, I’m the Senshi of ALL love, it’s not my time to settle down yet, it’s destiny or whatever. Get ‘em next time.”

Ami scraped the chopped apples into a bowl with some grapes. “And so the issue is, Greg’s returned to present you with that next time.”

“Yes. Wait, no. Wait, what?”

Ami turned. “What?”

Minako rolled her eyes. “Look, the issue is, if Greg rejected me back then, it couldn’t have been a Senshi destiny thing. Not yet. Meaning maybe there’s something about me that turns people off, and he only SAID it was about him because he was being nice. So ever since, it could be that thing sabotaging my relationships. Not destiny. So, aha, brain flash! If me and Greg go out again, post-Senshi, and it STILL doesn’t work, then BANG! At last, I’ll know for sure it’s been about destiny all along. Isn’t that logical?”

Ami’s head tilted to the side. “That's... uh, okay? But then what if you, um, went out with Greg and it did work?”

Minako grinned. “That would confirm that I’m irresistible,” she said. “It’s win-win. Which brings us right back to the question I asked you weeks ago that started off this whole mess.” She pushed away from the wall. “Ami, would you have objections to me going out with Greg?”

Minako quickly moved to take the bowl of fruit out of Ami’s jittery hands.

“C’mon, Ami,” Minako insisted. “You remember that talk, yeah? At the time, you said it was okay - at the moment. Well, what’s the moment say now? Stop thinking, Ami, just SPEAK.”

“Y-Yes,” Ami rasped.

Minako beamed. Then frowned. “Wait. Yes, you spoke, or yes, you have objections?”

“Yes, I d-d-do object to you going out with Greg,” Ami said, her eyes widening a little as she said it, as if she was only then realizing what she was saying.

Minako set the bowl back down to grasp Ami by the hands. “Ah-HA. Meaning you’re fine with Urawa going out with me, but not Greg going out with me?”

Ami swallowed. “Apparently?”

Minako nodded. “There we go then. Now you know. Sorry for using perverse psychology.”

Ami’s brow furrowed. “Uh... you mean reverse psychology?”

Minako gestured vaguely. “Call it whatever. Look, I kinda get what you meant about that “next time” thing too, yeah? Greg leaves me, then suddenly he turns up, and oooh. Urawa leaves you, then suddenly he turns up, and oooh. So we’re both all, oooh, do we risk it again? And I think I would with Greg, if there wasn’t something more important at stake.”

Namely, her friendship with Ami, but Minako decided not to break momentum.

“Similarly, you might with Urawa - if there wasn’t something more important to you. Hmmm? If you know what I mean, Ami?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“But Greg hasn’t even said he likes me yet!” Ami blurted.

Minako released Ami, frowning and rubbing her chin. “No? Huh. Fail for him. Thing is, he does keep his distance from everyone, always has. But I’ve noticed that around you, he seems different. And Greg’s more about actions than words, maybe that’s the problem. You want me to go talk to him next?”

“NO,” Ami said firmly. She pinkened a little and finally went to get some cutlery. “Th-that is, no, thank you. And know that I do appreciate you taking the time here with me.”

Minako nodded. “I hope it’s helped a little?”

“It's... clarified something,” Ami admitted, smiling. “So that’s good.”

Minako nodded again. Things had been clarified here for her too. She decided she wouldn’t even mention the other piece. The fact that a member of her fan club was called Alan. Alan, the same name as the man she had once loved in London.

It had been on her second trip there... after Greg, after becoming Sailor V... Alan, whom she had then lost in love to her best friend. It made her wonder. Was she now losing someone else from her past, namely Greg, to another friend?

Was she really okay with that?

Given Ami’s reactions here towards Greg, Minako found that yes, it was okay. Maybe Ami was just too cute about it. Maybe time did help to heal all wounds. Or maybe it got easier, the more it happened.

Minako smiled back. “Yay!” She moved to sit at the table as Ami brought the fruit over. “Want to hear more about my fan club then?”

*****

It happened without warning. Greg simply turned around, and there was blue-haired-library-guy, standing directly behind him.

“Hi!” library-guy said, with a smile and a wave. “I’d say this was coincidence, but I heard that you were working here. So it’s not. At all.”

“The key word there is working,” Greg noted. He took a quick look around the Game Centre. Alas, no one was flagging him down, so he moved to the side to pretend to be checking something out with the video game there.

The guy was not dissuaded. “I take it you don’t even check out the archives of Umino’s “Lunchtime Views” show at school, huh? Darn. Too busy with your creative writing books?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that,” he said, wiping at invisible dust.

For a moment, there was silence.

Greg glanced over his shoulder. Nope, the guy was still there, smiling. “What, do you spy on everyone who reads up on writing in the library?” Greg asked, before he could stop himself. Bad move, encouraging conversation!

“No way,” came the reply. The guy then snapped his fingers. “But did I mention that in addition to the books at my place on writing, I also have several on... genealogy?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning closer.

“I have to get something from the back,” Greg grumbled, pushing past him.

If there wasn’t any work to be done out here, maybe he could find something job related to do elsewhere that would allow the mystery guy to take the hint.

*****

Minako realized she had a problem. After having left Ami’s place, it had only made sense to touch base with Urawa, in much the same way as he had called her last night... but the news she had? It wasn’t good. Not as far as Urawa was concerned.

Because Ami had all but admitted that Greg was still her choice, despite (or because of?) their interference.

Minako knew that, if she told Urawa that on the phone, he might march back over to Ami’s place, the way he had last night. To plead his case again, or something. Minako didn’t think that would help. So she had to tell Urawa the news in person.

She’d forgotten that Sewaya didn’t live that far away from his cousin.

“Minakoooo!” the orange haired nuisance called out.

She definitely had a problem. Urawa’s place was out, Sewaya would flip out at them. Her new fan club wasn’t around, and at any rate, was of limited use away from the school. Standing up to Sewaya herself might only cause an even worse scene.

She glanced over her shoulder. He was still chasing after her. She had to somehow lose Sewaya in the crowd around them.

Maybe she could fake right, cut left, and duck into the Crown Game Centre? He might not hang out there for long, not if people recognized him as the guy who’d lost that video game competition a week ago. She picked up her pace.

*****

“Shouldn’t you be, you know, working?” Mamoru remarked. He jerked his thumb from where he sat at the Crown Cafe, over towards the Game Centre.

Motoki grinned back, sliding into the available seat next to his friend. “Shouldn’t you be, you know, sharing a drink with Usagi, not Kato?”

Kato let out a quiet laugh from the third seat at the table. “You’ve both got a point?”

Mamoru rolled his eyes. “I’m going boating with Usagi tomorrow. And I didn’t come here with Kato, she just kind of turned up and joined me.”

“Did she now,” Motoki mused, looking towards her. Kato flinched, and looked at the ground.

Mamoru folded his arms. “Your job, Motoki?”

“Eh, Greg had it covered last I checked. He’s a responsible guy, I can take five minutes,” Motoki said, gesturing airily. “I’m more worried about my friends right now.”

Mamoru lifted an eyebrow. “Worried?”

“Yeah.” Motoki rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just, maybe it’s me, but have romantic tensions seemed higher than normal of late? At least in this part of town?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Mamoru said, reaching for his cup.

“Minakoooo!” came a plaintive cry. The three of them turned to see the orange haired boy from the challenge last week. He looked up and down the street before walking into the Game Centre.

Mamoru paused. “Though now that you mention it..."

“What’s your point?” Kato broke in quickly.

Motoki sighed. “I just think, if people are feeling something, it might be better to get it all out in the open. To prevent any awkward misunderstandings later?”

Mamoru felt his eyebrow start twitching. He pulled back from his drink. Was Motoki implying that he had feelings for Kato? Because he didn’t. “Misunderstandings like what?”

“Like me?” came a fourth voice.

Mamoru turned his attention away from Motoki, and over to the guy with blue hair who had approached them. He looked familiar. “I met you yesterday,” Mamoru recalled. “Kaijin, right? From Usagi’s school?”

Kaijin offered a mock salute. “Kaijin Taylor, at your service. It’s weird, yesterday you were here with the lovely Usagi Tsukino, and now you’re with... who, exactly?”

“Kato. Kato Sujigaki,” Kato introduced herself, smiling hesitantly.

“Pleased to meet you,” Kaijin said, nodding. “See, Mamoru, it’s easy for a person to get the wrong impression here, and think you’re some kind of playboy.” Kaijin hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “Good thing I’m smarter than that, eh?”

“Good thing,” Mamoru said, not at all amused by the insinuation. Perhaps in part because Usako might be inclined to believe such a wild flight of fancy. “And do you even have a reason to be inserting yourself into our conversation?” he demanded.

“Well, sure,” Kaijin said with a smile. He turned to look at Motoki. “I’m afraid I scared your assistant into the back, and someone responsible needs to be on hand if orange-hair there causes trouble. Meaning I think that’s you.”

Motoki sighed. “Figures.” With what looked to Mamoru like a pointed stare at Kato, he rose back to his feet. “No rest for the weary.”

“Also,” Kaijin added, pulling a paper out of his pocket, “if you could maybe give this to Greg later? It’s my phone number. I wasn’t able to get it to him, but I’m sure he’ll want it later, and it’s unlisted. Know that I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important.”

“Sorry, I’m not your messenger,” Motoki said, pushing Kaijin’s arm away. “I don’t want to get involved in all the relationship drama.”

Turning his back on the others, Motoki strode back towards the Game Centre. He tried to quickly get a read on the situation. It seemed like the orange-haired kid - Sewaya, that was his name - had pushed his way past a number of people to get inside, but he was now simply standing there looking forlorn.

“If I can’t catch you now?” Sewaya called out after a moment. “That’s it. I give up.”

Of more importance, his shoving meant someone had spilled their drink by the entranceway. They’d need to get that cleaned up, and Greg was nowhere to be seen. “Seriously?” Motoki mumbled.

Usually, the guy was so dependable. Motoki quickly threaded his way to the back, reaching out and jerking open the door of the broom closet, to get the mop.

The two people inside the broom closet turned to face him, their eyes wide, their bodies pressed up against each other. One of them was Greg Anderson. The other was Minako Aino.

Two broom handles clattered down against the floor, as Motoki heard a collective gasp erupt from the people standing behind him.

<commercial break; Ami, Greg and Kaijin skating, they trip over Ami's computer.>

Previous	Chapter Links	Next
	*_* MARMALADE MERCURY *_* EP 13b: IN SEARCH OF A SOLUTION - URAWA, TAKE MINAKO!

<commercial break; Minako, Urawa and Sewaya skating, they trip over Ami's computer>

"Um, are you looking for anyone in particular?"

"Eh?" Usagi turned back to Mamoru. "Oh! Ah ha ha ha... no, I just thought I recognized someone from school over there."

It was after class on Friday, and the two of them had met up at the Crown Cafe for some drinks. But Mamoru had noticed Usagi's attention becoming distracted more than once now. He let out a gentle sigh. "Kato had some important errands to run," he reassured. "She won't be coming by."

"Oh... really? Um, good..." Usagi replied, smiling weakly and rubbing the small of her back.

Mamoru sighed again. "Usako, it's come to my attention that you're worried about her. I suppose part of me understands that, given some of the rough points in our relationship - but all of that is in the past now. You KNOW you're the only one I care for, so really, there's nothing to worry about! Do you really think I'm just going to break up with you after everything we've been through?"

Usagi blushed, and started tapping her index fingers together. "Ami-chan said something very similar the other day," she admitted. "I-I'm sorry Mamo-chan. I guess I just wonder sometimes if you're spending more time with Kato than with me."

Mamoru nodded. "I suppose that's fair enough. So, since I spent last Saturday with her - how about we get together this weekend? We could go boating in the park tomorrow.”

"I'd like that!" Usagi said with a smile. "It'll have to be Sunday though, so that my parents - and Luna - will let me out of the house. We got waaay too much homework this weekend," she remarked, making a face.

"Great! Then it's a date," Mamoru concluded, smiling in return. "And really, stop worrying about Kato. I don't worry about any of your school friends after all." He winked.

Usagi giggled slightly. "Yeah, well, I'm not sure who you'd have worry about," she replied, glad that relationship things seemed to be resolving themselves.

"So, Usagi, who's your companion?" Kaijin asked idly as he leaned onto the side of the booth.

The two occupants blinked over at him in surprise.

"Oh... I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he continued, with a grin and a vague gesture. "I was just here looking for someone I saw working in the arcade last week. He doesn't seem to be around. Then I caught sight of Usagi, so thought I'd come over and say hi."

Mamoru looked back at Usagi with a bemused expression. "School friend to worry about?" he inquired.

"Acquaintance," Usagi corrected.

It was that persistent admirer again... well, maybe this was a chance to set the record straight? "Mamo-ch... er, Mamoru, this is Kaijin, Kaijin this is Mamoru. My boyfriend," she emphasized.

An eyebrow went up on Kaijin's forehead as he reached out a hand towards the older person. "Well, well. So at last we meet. My congratulations. Make sure you always take good care of her now."

Mamoru shook hands with Kaijin, more out of reflex than anything else. "Of... course..." he replied starting to feel even more puzzled.

"I'll leave you two alone then. Bye!" Kaijin waved, flashed another smile and then headed off.

Mamoru watched him leave. "Strange guy," he observed, shaking his head. He turned back to Usagi to ask her more about him, but she had apparently already dismissed him from her mind.

"So where are we meeting in the park...?" Usagi prompted. They started in on the details.

*****

Ami pumped her legs, which made her swing a little higher. "So... that's what I decided," she concluded. "Do you think I did the right thing?"

Her friend pursed her lips. "Well... that's not really something I should be answering yet, is it? I mean, I'm still not sure I understand the whole situation."

Ami looked over. "Do you want me to go over any of it again?"

Makoto made a little face as she gradually let her own swing slow to a stop. "Nooo, it's just... well, I must admit I never saw any of this Minako business coming. It makes me wonder... well, no, perhaps I shouldn't speak..."

Ami also let her swing start to run down. "What is it? Please tell me."

Makoto sighed. "Okay, Ami. Thing is, you were just speaking about Minako as if she was already going out with Urawa - is that really the case? I can't see Minako getting involved with him so quickly, not when he cares for you. And more to the point, how much of your decision was based on that one fact?"

Ami's feet dragged on the ground as her swing finally came to rest. "You think I made the wrong choice."

"No! No, I'm not saying that," Makoto quickly refuted. "You chose Greg, and that’s great, but you seem to be dismissing Urawa very... casually. So I'm just... wondering if you're not trying to make things work out all nice and conveniently?”

Ami blinked at her uncertainly. Makoto scratched her head.

“Let me put it this way. Remember waaay back to the start, when you were denying any feelings for Urawa, and how I called you on it?" Ami nodded slowly. "And remember after you broke up, and he left, and how you also tried to deny that you felt anything? And how I called you on that too?" Ami nodded again. "Well... similar deal here," Makoto concluded. "Now that you seem to have picked Greg, you're denying any lingering feelings, either good or bad, towards Urawa."

"Because once I'm going out with one of them, I can't still love the other!"

Makoto smiled reassuringly. "Well, admittedly, you shouldn't date them both at once. But feelings are feelings, Ami. Do you really think it's so easy for Minako to be your replacement in Urawa's life? Or that Urawa won't be at all missed in yours?"

Ami slumped. "But Urawa said he'd give up... and it's better for him to be with Minako now, right?" It suddenly struck her that if she had decided the other way, would Greg have had anyone to be with? Despite his being here for - what, a month? - and accumulating admirers, Greg didn't seem close to anyone, not even Minako.

Oh, no. She hadn't based her decision on things like this, had she?

Everything had made sense last night! Should she rethink things again? She hadn't actually put either Greg or Urawa's picture into her medallion yet...

Makoto abruptly slipped out of her swing and came over to give the blue haired girl a hug. "Ami-chan... I'm not saying you need to rethink your decision," Makoto murmured, squeezing gently. "I just think you shouldn't read so much into the feelings of others that you forget about your own."

Ami hugged back. It was like Makoto knew she’d needed it. Ami liked how her friend was able to sense that, and in a way it made her glad that Usagi had gone off with Mamoru after school, giving them the chance to talk instead. Still, she'd previously acknowledged that her feelings were just as important as anyone else's... so was that really where things were going wrong? "So... what should I do now?" Ami asked.

Makoto pulled back, shaking her head. "I can't answer that, it’s your choice. You’ve been real focussed on Urawa though, what did Greg say when you told him?"

"Oh." Ami swallowed. "I... haven't... yet...?"

Makoto’s eyebrow went up. "So THAT’S the whole situation... Ami, you have to tell him. You’re not being fair to anyone until you do."

Ami winced. "I-I know. So, w-what do you think, talk first, then Rei’s medallion charm, or the other w-way around...?"

Makoto made a face. “A-mi-cha-n..."

Ami winced. "Okay! Okay, Mako-chan," Ami finally assented. It wasn't just a matter of feelings, was it. She had to own this decision. "Thank you."

"Any time." Makoto smiled. The girls remained silent for a few moments before Makoto finally ventured, "So did you actually have juku tonight, or...?"

"Oh no!" Ami gasped, belatedly realizing the time. "We've been talking that long?? I'll be late!" Leaping off the swing, Ami scooped up her bookbag and gave Makoto one last quick wave. "Thanksagainbye!"

Makoto just smiled, waving back at Ami's retreating form. "Any time," she repeated. "Whenever you need a friend."

*****

Ami tore down the street feeling for all the world like Usagi trying not to be late for school. She felt even more like Usagi when, upon rounding a corner, she ran full tilt into another person running the opposite way, and they both fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Aie! I'm so sorry, I'm just going to be late..." Ami apologized, managing to stumble to her feet before moving to help up... Minako?

"Ami? That you?"

"Uh, yes," Ami answered, momentarily taken aback. "Are you all right?"

Minako nodded, brushing herself off and smiling. "Think so. Late for juku?"

"Almost. Are you late for something too?"

"No, I was just on my way to Urawa's," Minako said automatically. Then inwardly she winced, remembering who she was talking to.

"Oh." Ami looked downcast for a moment but then she smiled and said, "I knew you'd be good for each other," before she turned and continued her run towards her extra evening classes.

Minako watched her go, feeling slightly confused. Suddenly, the weird message Urawa had left, telling her to come over, merged with Ami's words in her mind. It led to a bizarre conclusion. But that meant Ami truly thought...

"My God," Minako murmured in shock.

*****

Ami left the seminar building feeling surprisingly good about her romantic situation for once. The only thing still sitting uncomfortably with her was whether she had come across as seeming distant to Urawa, after saying she loved him too. The fact that Minako had apparently been going over to comfort him earlier was good, but it gave her mixed feelings...

WAS she so easy to replace? What was to become of her ties with Urawa? She would have to give him a call tomorrow, just to make sure she didn't end up losing him altogether... because Makoto was right, he was a part of her that she couldn't simply dismiss. She hoped he hadn't completely 'given up on her' like he'd said he would.

Shaking her head, Ami turned the final corner leading up to her house. There she stopped and blinked.

"Ami... we have to talk...," Urawa beseeched her.

Ami stood uncertainly for a few moments before finally approaching him. "Shouldn't you be out with Minako?" Ami wondered aloud. "She... she was on her way to your house earlier."

"We talked already," Urawa admitted. "That's... that's why I'm here." He paused to work up the nerve to say what he knew he had to. As Minako had reminded him earlier, they'd never meant for things to get this bad. It had just been a passing idea that day at the Tokyo Tower...

~~~~~

"So you think that if we act like the two of us are going out, Ami and Greg will realize they don't want to lose us, reject each other and we all live happily ever after?" Urawa clarified.

"Errrr, something like that," Minako acknowledged. "Though I doubt Greg will be affected much by me seeing someone else."

~~~~~

How had it gotten so out of hand? How would Ami would react to him saying something like, "Ami, there really is nothing between me and Minako. The two of us had just decided not to confirm anyone's beliefs one way or the other, to see how it might affect things."

"W-What? Urawa! You must be joking."

Urawa winced, realizing he’d spoken aloud this time. "I... I'm afraid not," he admitted. "I didn't even know about Minako's past with Greg at the time. But you can ask her yourself if you like, we've both decided to reveal the truth! And I'm especially sorry for saying I'd give up on you. I really do want you to be a part of my life... in the future I swear I'll think before I leap. Er, reap. Er, speak!"

Ami stared blankly at him.

"I... I hope you're not too angry?" Urawa finished.

"N-No..." Ami began cautiously.

Actually, in some strange way she was relieved. Relieved that she really was that irreplaceable in his life and that their relationship hadn't completely changed. But on the other hand - if neither Minako nor Urawa were interested in each other, was her justification in picking Greg still sound? Had she let her feelings be led astray by them or not?

"I'm just wondering how much rethinking is necessary here," Ami admitted.

"I can understand that," Urawa replied with a nod. So the situation might not be beyond repair. But more than that, she hadn't lashed out at him. He felt immensely relieved. But at the same time, he wasn't sure how to proceed any more.

They stared at each other for a while.

"So, uh... what do you think Greg might say?"

"About what?"

Urawa whirled. Greg was coming up behind them, wheeling his bicycle. Again with the timing! Urawa glanced at Ami, but she seemed to have frozen at the new arrival, so he turned back to answer.

"About the fact that I'm not going out with Minako."

Greg frowned. "Oh. Well, that is a problem."

Urawa nodded back. "So you know what this means then."

"Indeed," Greg answered gravely. "Sewaya's going to be able to actively pursue her again. At least Minako's a good runner."

Urawa almost nodded again before he realized what Greg had actually said. Instead, he gaped. "Er, no... I meant, don't celebrate too quickly."

"Why would I celebrate over who's dating Minako?"

"Not over that, I mean over Ami’s decision!" Urawa responded, starting to get thoroughly flummoxed. He turned to look back at Ami... and staring into her eyes, it suddenly hit him.

She hadn't told Greg. For whatever reason, Ami hadn't spoken with Greg yet.

"Ah! Now how did you know I'd decided to have Ami help me with my geography homework?" Greg inquired.

Even as he spoke he reached out to take Ami's arm, guiding her up towards the house while leaving his bike out on the pathway.

"Don't worry though, I hadn't planned on celebrating my grades until I pulled off the A."

Ami opened her mouth to interject something, but no words came out. All of a sudden things were happening quickly, and there were too many thoughts pinwheeling through her head at once. By the time she became aware of Greg leading her up to the house, they were already at the door.

Which was when Urawa finally found his voice again. "Just a minute!" he protested. "I was talking with Ami!"

Greg glanced back. "It looked to me like you two were just sharing a very long pause together. Shouldn't studies come before that sort of thing?"

"But... we were... uh..."

The door closed behind Greg and Ami even as Urawa fumbled for words.

He grimaced. "Just don't get all complacent is all!" Urawa finally shouted to the closed door.

On the other side of said door, Greg shook his head. "Well, at least we didn't end up with a repeat of that early evening scene a couple weeks ago," he remarked.

Ami blinked up at him. Early evening a couple weeks ago? Wait, she remembered now...

~~~~~

If only she could just call up her feelings for Urawa again... then things would be all right. Urawa... months ago... the ferris wheel... their faces began to move closer together. It would be as it was...

"Hello, should you be doing that in public?" a voice interrupted.

~~~~~

"What did you think was going to happen this time?" Ami heard herself demand.

Greg shrugged. "Who can tell? You looked like you wanted time to to think to yourself." He released his hold on her arm. "And I really do have geography that needs going over this weekend. Help me out if you have time, okay?" He walked away towards the stairs.

Ami opened her mouth to respond to that, but her voice was gone yet again.

Had Greg thought she and Urawa had been leading up to a kiss? A little audacious of him to intercede then! Did she want to date someone like that? Oh why, oh why were things becoming complicated again?! What should she do now???

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