Sailor Moon does not belong to me. I wish it was so but keep on dreaming. Sailor Moon belongs to Naoki Takeuchi/Kodansha, TOEI Animation. I want to say thank you to all those people who encourages me to write to continue writing. Especially to Jade and Fyrechild. Please visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/9613/ I usually add my fanfiction there before I submit it. This is a spoiler. It takes place after Sailor Stars. It is a romance if you are looking for action this is not the right place for you. I am using the NA name because it is an alternate reality. Wedding Rehearsal is a copyright of Serena Chiba@1998. Now on with the story. ** means thinking \\ flashback Separation by Serena Chiba Chapter Three Usagi was amazed to see a woman that looked just like her and a man who looked just like Mamoru sitting on a sofa. As Usagi went closer to the couple, she had a complete view of the woman's and man's face. *Oh My God! She looks exactly like me. And...and...that man....he looks exactly like Mamo-chan! How could this be?!?!* Then Usagi remembered what Queen Serenity told her. \\"My dear, beloved daugher, since you are insecure about your wedding, Pluto and I decided to send you to another reality. In this world, Mamoru and you are not senshis. Nor are the others. This world is the result if Queen Beryl had not attacked you in the start of this life. You will be leading a normal life because you never met Luna when you were fourteen. Pluto and I hope that by sending you to this world will help you decide whom you want to marry. Good luck, my daughter," said Queen Serenity before she disappeared.\\ *This man and woamn must be Mamo-chan's and my alternate selves. But by how close they are sitting together, they must be a couple. So how would this help my dilemma?* Usagi thought. * * * * * * * Serena Moon stared down at the professionally-wrapped package in her lap and tried to ignore a suddne, unpleasant premonition. "Well?" her fiance prodded. "Aren't you going to open it?" She managed a weak smile and toyed with the gaily-colored bow. On her left hand, a near-flawless marquise diamond in an exquisite gold setting gleamed softly. When Darien had placed it on her finger a year ago, he'd somewhat diminished the tender moment by explaining that he'd been assured the ring was an excellent investment. "It's...er...almost too pretty to open,"she said, keeping her gaze on the rectangular box he'd presented to her for her birthday. "Doesn't make much sense, does it?" He sounded genuinely puzzled. "To spend all that mondy on fancy papers and ribbons that will just be ripped away. Still, I know people expect that sort of thing, so I had this done at a gift-wrapping counter." "It's lovely. Did you select the paper?" She touched an unsteady fingertip to the floral wrapping, hoping he'd put at least that much personal effort into the gesture. He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, no," he admitted. "You know I'm no good at that sort of thing. I just told the girl to use her best judgement." Darien shifted restlessly on the sofa beside her and she knew he was getting impatient for her to open the gift. Dramatic moments and sentimental gestures weren't really his thing. He resorted to this behavior as rarely as possible, and then only prevailing social customs gave him few other options. Now, for instance. It was his fiancee's birthday, and he had dutifully provided a gift, frivolously wrapped in paper and bows..... She drew a deep breath, telling herself to stop being so silly. There was no reason to believe this gift would be momentous. It wasn't as though her life is going to change when she removes the wrapping. So why was she so reluctant to do so? She tugged briskly at the bow, and set to work on the pretty paper some other woman had chosen for her. A moment later, she looked up blankly, two soft-bound books in her laps. "Computer manuels? You bought me computer manuels?" Darien's smile was tinged with self-satisfaction. "That was the easiest part to have wrapped up," he explained. "Actually, I bought you a computer. It's out in my car. I thought we'd spend the rest of the evening setting it up and studying the features. Serena blinked at him for a moment, then asked the first question that popped into her head. "But...what about dinner?" He waved a dismissive hand. "No problem. We'll order delivery." "Wait'll you see this computer, Serena," Darien continued, his voice warming with a passion that she bleakly wished was due to her. "I had my assistant order it to my specifications. It makes your old 386 seem like an abacus in comparison. Intel pentium microprocessor, 333 megahertz, nine gigabytes of hard drive, 24-spin CD-ROM. More than you need, I assure you. Nineteen-inch color monitor. A 56Kps modem. I can E-mail you whenever I'm running late, or have to cancel plans or whatever." She stared at him, distantly noting the way his enthusiasm for computer hardware made his blue eyes sparkle. Serena couldn't believe she actually felt jealous f the reaction the new computer evoked in him. He hadn't noticed that she was wearing a new dress. It was blue-the exact same color of her eyes- and it fit her in a way that made many women grimace with open envy. She'd had her blond her cut that afternoon into a soft bob that fluffed around her face. Darien hadn't comment on the new style since he'd arrived for their date half an hour ago. It was Friday, June 30. Her twenty-fifth birthday. She'd gone out of her way to look especially attractive for him. Had foolishly, unrealistically anticipating a romantic evening of dinner and dancing. And he wanted to order pizza. Spend the evening assembling a computer. Her silence seemed to puzzle him. "Serena, is there something wrong?" Three years older than her, he was a very good-looking man, with dark black hair, dark blue eyes fringed with long, dark lashed, cleanly sculpted features and a firm mouth that had, occasionally, curved unexpectedly into breathtaking smiles that had almost stopped her heart. He was brilliant, successful, highly admired by both male and female employees, and respected in his field. She'd known him for two years. After almost a year of dating, he'd proposed marriage. She had accepted his proposal because she had fallen in love with him sometime during thir first otherwise-uneventful date. To this day, Serena still couldn't say what is was, exactly, that had hooked her. Maybe it was because she believed that behind his attractive face and incisive mind was truly a gentle man capable of great love and loyalty, despite his awkwardness at expressing his emotions. She'd spent the last thirteen months since he'd proposed wearing his ring, seeing him whenever his busy schedule allowed, and waiting for him to decide on an optimal date for their wedding. It was always right after the new project was completed. Or as soon as he could make arrangements for time away from the lab. In the meantime, her biological clock kept ticking. And he'd bought her a computer for her birthday. He was the only man who'd ever made her heart sing. And now he was breaking it. "I got a laser printer to go with it," he said a bit tentative, as though suddenly aware that she wasn't sharing his enthusiasm for the gift. "I think you'd better go now, Darien." The words were out of her mouth before she'd known she would say them. His dark eyes widened. "Excuse me?" She struggled to maintain her composure, telling herself she should at least make an effort to be gracious. The computer had probable cost him a lot of money. He, of course, undoubtedly considered it a worthwhile investment. "Thank you for the, er, gift, but I'm not feeling well. I need some time alone." "You're not feeling well?" Switching instantly into doctor mode, Darien touched her forehead then took her wrist, covering her pulse with two fingers. He looked vaguely concerned, but also relieved to have an explanation for her odd behavior. "Are you in pain? Dizzy?" Serena tugged her hand out of his grasp. "I just.... Please go, Darien." His expression suddenly cleared. "Oh," he murmured. "That's your problem." She stood abruptly. If he dared.... He smiled a kindly patience that set her teeth on the edge. "Is there really any need for me to leave, Serena? I won't mind if you want to take a Midol and lie down with a heating pad for a while. I'll just be working on the computer, and when you feel better, we'll-" She stalked to the door, no longer caring whether he thinks she'd lost her mind or not. Maybe she had. Or maybe she'd lost it three months ago and was just figuring it out. "Get out Darien," she said, opening the door. "And you can take your paper and ribbons and computer manuels with you." His brows drew downward. His voice deepened, took on that I'm-a-serious-scientist don't-waste-my-valuable-time edge that he resorted to when he didn't know how to react. "Serena, you're being unreasonable. If I've done something to offend you, you should just say so rather than carry on like this." "I think I'm making myself clear enough", she said, her voice as cold as his, maybe even colder. "I want you out of my living room. What part of the statement didn't you understand, Dr. Shields?" In all her time she'd known Darien, she'd never seen him lose his temper. She'd seen him annoyed, impatient, frustrated, exasperated- but never downright mad. Something in the set of his jaw told her he was close to that point now. As entertaining as it might have been to watch him lose his cool, she didn't want him staying long enough for her to find out. she didn't want to risk falling apart in front of him. Not tonight. "I don't know what this is all about," Darien said, hs face taut, "but I see no reason to continue this pointless performance. When you're ready for us to discuss this like mature adults, call me." That did it. Her voice took on a tone of mock surprise. "Oh, yes, we are mature adults, aren't we, Darien?" She was amazed to realize that she was shouting now. And even more astonished that she no longer cared whether she was making a fool of herself or not. "We're getting more mature by the day, in fact. Why, before long we'll be so mature we'll qualify for Medicare. Not that anyone would notice the difference. We'll still be conducting our endless courtship, sending each other polite little emails, and getting together occasionally for pizza to be eaten in the romantic glow of a nineteen-inch color monitor!" He stiffened. An expression that might have been hurt flashed through his eyes, so quickly she wasn't sure if it was truly there. It was quickly replaced by offended dignity. "Look, if you don't want the computer, you can trade it for something you like better." "You really don't get it, do you, Darien?" Serena asked sadly, her anger fading into bitter regret. "It's you I'm trading in." She tugged the ring off her finger and slid it into the front pocket of his dark suit jacket. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're an amazing man, Darien Shields. You'll probably find the cure for cancer someday. But I just can't go on playing Miss Adelaide to your Nathan Detroit. I need more." Darien planted his hands on his slender hips and stared at her. "I haven't a clue to what you're talking about." "I know you don't," she whispered, the break in her heart opening wider by the second. "And that's the saddest part of all. Goodbye, Darien." He lifted a hand toward her. "You don't really mean this." Avoiding his grasp, she opened the door. "Goodbye." Still looking dazed, he stepped out automatically. Then turned to say something else. Whatever it was, she didn't hear it. She'd alreadly closed the door. Darien stormed out of Serena's apartment building, still finding it hard to believe she'd thrown him out. The diamond ring felt like a fifty-pound weight in his jacket pocket. What on earth had possessed her to take it off her finger and returned back to him that way? No forewarning, no explanations, nothing. Just, "Goodbye, Darien." He could only assume she had lost her senses. Darien glared up her window. Okay, so he would give her some time to get herself together. Perhaps tomorrow they could discuss this maturely. What part of this statement didn't you understand, Dr. Shields? He winced at the sarcastic words. So unlike Serena. Thinking morosely of the boxes in the trunk he'd anticipated opening with her this evening, he put his hand on the door handle of his car. He really wasn't looking forward to going home alone when he'd cleared the evening to spend it with Serena. Darien was quite sure this would be all settled out once Serena calmed down. Hormones, he told himself with a bemused shake of his head. As well as he understood their effects on the female emotional system, he still found individual reactions to them as baffling as any other man did. Had he thought Serena was serious about breaking their engagement, he might have been more upset. As it was, he was merely annoyed that he hadn't handled her lost of temper more carefully. Obviously, he'd missed some signals he should have identified. He would try to be more observant in the future. He would call her tomorrow, Darien promised himself, climbing behind the wheel of his convertible. They would have dinner, maybe at the new restaurant that everyone was talking about. Restaurant Lita of the Tokyo Tribune had given it a glowing recommendation. Serena liked fine food and a fancy atmosphere; maybe that would soften her up. Then he would make a gracious apology for whatever he'd done to offend her, she would accept-probably with a touch of embarrassment at her uncharacteristics moodiness- and everything would be fine. Maybe tomorrow they would spend the evening experimenting with her new computer. Followed by a few fantastic experiments in her bed. As for tonight, Darien supposed, he would have to stop at a take-out establishment for dinner. Maybe he would take the food with him to the lab. Since he had the evening free, he might as well spend it productively. * * * * * * * *Watching Mamo-chan's and my alternate selves break up is suppose to help me make up my decision? Maybe I should leave this reality before it truly destroys my view on Mamo-chan's and my relationship.* Usagi pondered. *Before leaving, I'll have to see what Darien would do to make up to Serena.* Author's Note So how do you like this?? Is it good, bad, or I could have done better?? I'm looking for some pre-readers. If you are interested in becoming a pre-reader for me please email me. Please send your comments, flames, and critisism to me at serena_chiba@hotmail.com Ja ne.