Author's Note:

     Okay, this is not my first fanfic, but it is the only one my

brother has cajoled me into sending in to a writer's page.  I have
a couple others laying around and will post them if I get a good
response from this one.  So please, any comments, send to me at 
Seabaugh@earthlink.com
     It really doesn't matter all that much when this story takes
place, as long as its well after the Sailor Moon R episode
introducing the Moonlight Knight.  (You'll understand if you've
seen it recently.)  
     The * located in the story usually signify the need for
italics.  Some writers like to use them to emphasis the point, but
I like to use them as somewhat of a flashback marker.  If it gets
to confusing, ignore them, I had a bear of a time taking out all
the italics and inserting the *'s.
     Note: All of my stories are based on the North American
version of Sailor Moon.  (NA names, etc ...) Even though I've read
the spoilers, I keep mine based on the most accessable series so
EVERYONE can enjoy them.

     Without further ado ...

Dying Fire
By Robin Seabaugh
Lunari@juno.com


     Cold steel sliced viciously through the almost-frozen layer of
rime that skimmed the surface of the hardened ice.  Frost sprayed
upward and melted against the 98.6 degree warmth above the bladed
boot.  It wasn't just the muscled leg's temperature that reduced
the flying hoarfrost to drops of water, but the furious pumping of
blood beneath the skin.
     Lita's legs scissored rapidly back and forth as she shot over
the ice at top speed.  The cold air whistling past her did little
to temper the boiling rage inside her, and merely tossed her rich,
chestnut-brown hair around the strap and bauble that held it atop
her head. 
     HE was coming.
     Raw emotions; fury, hatred, depression, loss, and love burned
a gaping hole in Lita's chest, and seemed to suck all her attention
towards it.  She couldn't think without HIM being in her thoughts,
she couldn't see straight, or hear properly or even perform the
simplest of tasks, like skating ...
     Her toe-pick caught on a patch of refrozen ice and she
stumbled, her inertia keeping her body in motion but her legs
staying a few feet behind her.  The ice came up hard and smacked
her jaw as she skidded to a halt on the slick surface.  Two small
children skated by, laughing.  One chirping in a pre-school voice
"Mommy, this is so easy!"
     Lita gave the child a look of daggers, and rolled over onto
her rear end to stand.  She picked herself up, feeling damp spots
on her chest and legs.  `Good thing I brought a change of clothes,'
she thought absently, massaging her sore jaw as she coasted over
the ice.  `Dark spots on the butt of my jeans wouldn't go over well
at the scout meeting.'  A smile curled her lips as she thought of
Raye fussing over the wet spots and demanding she not sit on her
cushions.  And Serena would NEVER stop teasing her about it.
     Thoughts of Serena brought her to thoughts of Darien, of
boyfriends, and then of HIM again.  Lita scowled darkly and twisted
around on the ice, facing the open rink.  Only a few people were
here on the warm, Sunday morning.  In fact, the place was almost
dead.
     She wished HE was.  
     And she wished the same on herself for thinking it.
     `How long had it been?' she asked herself, since that drizzly
afternoon, not a fortnight after what she thought would 'clinch'
the love they supposedly shared.  `Less than a year?  A year? 
Could it have been that long?'  Lita counted on her fingers, a
habit she'd never gotten out of since she had been taught it in
kindergarten. `Yes, almost a year and a half.  She should be well
over him by now...'
     She pushed out with her skate, sliding forward on the ice. 
Her smile dropped off her face and she flicked her boots, sending
herself further down the ice.
     *It was all her fault.  She'd been too pushy, too romantic,
and altogether too much.  Then it was her friends' fault.  They
were all bickering gossips and he didn't like the stories being
told.  Then it was Fate's fault.  They just weren't meant to be.* 
     *But ... but ...*
     Lita felt a gnawing in her stomach that wasn't hunger.  She
folded her arms over her abdomen and continued skating.  Her long
fingers pulled at the fabric of her shirt, and her knuckles began
to turn white.
     *She should understand this and get over it.  HE already had,
why couldn't she?*
     *But ... but ...*
     Lita forced her boot wide and then repeated the action with
her other foot.  Her body moved faster down the ice, and she felt
the cooling water numb her toes and fingertips.  
     *She shouldn't make this any harder on him than it already
was.*
     *But ... but ...*
     She stopped her leg movements, coasting on her velocity, and
her scrunched up expression slowly melted, like the ice next to a
fresh blade.  In it's place was left the most lonely, anguished
face that ever did grace a teen-aged girl.
     *He just didn't feel the same way about her anymore.*
     *But ... but ...*
     Lita was running out of ice to skate on.  The rim was coming
up fast, and she would have to do something before her current
actions lost all relevance to the hard cement ground before her.
     *But, Freddie, I love you!*
     Lita twisted suddenly, trying to make the turn.
     *It makes no difference.*
     Her blade smacked hard against the edge, and she tumbled onto
the outside rink, no longer able to keep herself going.
     *Good-bye.*
     Lita began to cry.

                        *        *        *        *        *    

     `Out with the bad air, in with the good air.'
     Lita practiced this relaxation exercise that was so painfully
simple, it got on the nerves of all insomniacs and stressed
businessmen.
     `Off with the bad jeans, on with the good jeans.'
     Lita held her breath as she struggled with the zipper of her
Ree's jeans, and grunted as the metal head bit into her fingers. 
She exhaled, paused for a moment, as if trying to fake out the
stubborn zipper, and then inhaled sharply, yanking the metal handle
with all her might.
     `Out with the candy bars, in with the salads.'
     "Lita-honey," she said to her reflection in the mirror.  "You
gotta go on a diet!"  She patted the very stressed area over her
abdomen, feeling how taught the fabric was.  "Well, I won't be able
to skate in these, no doubt.  Sitting would be a chore, but I could
always lean against a wall if I needed to rest."  She bent over to
retrieve her shirt from her duffle bag and felt the denims dig into
her belly.
     `I should probably change before going to the meeting,' she

thought.  She pulled the floppy sweatshirt over her head and
arranged it around her upper body.  Lita gave the mirror a few
looks, checking her bod.  `Yep, same wavy, brown hair up in a
pony-tail with bangs that ALWAYS get into my same green eyes.  Same
fair, un-tannable skin, same long limbs and amazonian height.' 
Lita gave a few model poses before grabbing up her things and
leaving the locker room.
     She peered around the sports center seeing that, as usual, it
was next to vacant.  On a warm, sunny day like today people were
supposed to be enjoying the outdoors, not wasting time in the air
conditioning.  She crossed the faded carpet to the rink, walking
easily over the rubber pads set up for those who liked clomping
around in blades.  Her skates banged against each other as she
went, water condensed on the blades dripping onto her shoes.
     Lita walked up to the large, reusable towel dispenser, and
started cleaning off the blades of her boots, wiping with practiced
ease the moisture and dirt collected on each steel edge.  She
thought about how she never tried ice skating before that day when
the Negaverse had set up a plot to trap the Scouts using two famed
ice skaters; Miisha and Janelle.  Miisha had been a major hunk, and
Lita was taken aback at his *kindness* towards her.  Well, that was
BEFORE he and his partner started totally trashing her and Sailor
Moon showed up to stop them.
     After Serena had `dusted' them, Miisha never remembered her,
or even remotely cared.  That hurt, a bit.  She wasn't in love with
him or anything, but it felt bad to have someone think you are the
stuff of dreams one day, and rat spoor the next.
     Like HE did.
     She stopped wiping her skates, and thought about exactly what
Ken had told her that morning.  Freddie was coming to this part of
Tokyo today to check out the Tech school and the campus area before
leaving tomorrow.  Ken warned her not to try and challenge him,
because Freddie was quite the martial artist, and then not to start
talking to him because he would only ask her to come back to him...

     Lita let her deep green eyes haze over as she thought of being
back in Freddie's arms.  `Maybe after all this time, he mulled over
it like I had, and had come to the conclusion that maybe I'm not so
bad, and that maybe I had changed to more suit him.'  Lita smiled
and thought about the way he kissed her, with a passion she found
exhilarating, but sometimes not in her mood.
     Her eyes cleared and she frowned, remembering how he blamed
the entire break-up on her and her friends and her fate.  `I
couldn't have been all that bad,' she thought.  `In fact, I know
it!  How dare he go and try to pin everything on me?'  Her hand
curled into a fist and she felt the morning's initial anger on the
phone well up inside her like a raging fire, the reason she came to
the rink in the first place; to skate it off.
     Then Lita softened her expression, and thought that maybe
Freddie was confused, and probably changed a lot in the last year
and a half.  An image of Luna came to mind and she thought of a
diplomatic way to find out what really went wrong after she gave
him what he said he really wanted.  
     Perhaps she had scared him off, just like he said.  And maybe
he was just lonely and afraid.  Or else unsure of what their recent
actions would do for the rest of their relationship.
     `And maybe Serena's a hooker by night,' Lita thought bitterly. 
`Freddie's a major bum and needs to be taught a lesson; all five of
them.'  Lita cracked each knuckle on her hand.
     *Maybe he still loves her.*
     Lita jerked and felt a dull ache in her chest.  The same one
that she felt as Freddie said his last good-bye to her and half
walked, half ran into the rain, his umbrella bobbing as he faded
from sight.  It wasn't supposed to rain that day.  Maybe the
heavens were weeping for Lita, or else mocking her and trying to
squelch the small ember of love that remained in her heart.  Either
way, the rain did little to coax the tears from her eyes.
     No, it wasn't until the rain suddenly stopping falling around
her, and she saw that there was still someone who cared for her,
cared enough to hold an umbrella over her head so she wouldn't get
wet, that she cried.  Her tears blended with the rain, and fell
until the storm cloud moved on.
     The ache burned like a dying fire, that once was lit with
attraction, kindled with attention, raged with passion, and then
almost killed with depression.  It glowed faintly now, begging for
something to feast upon.
     Lita backed away from the towel, and turned to leave the

center.  Ken's words echoed in her mind as she walked the twisting
path to the exit, "Try to avoid him.  He's no good to you and will
only bring trouble."  Lita closed her eyes and put her hand to her
forehead, feeling heat from under her skull and a headache being
conceived behind her frontal lobe.
     She opened her eyes and saw HIM.
     Each member of the Sailor Scouts could attest to the fact that
a great deal of men and boys reminded Lita of her old boyfriend. 
But truth be told, he resembled Lita herself more than anyone else. 
His thick brown hair crowned his head like a thatch of
chestnut-colored twigs in a birds nest.  His bangs loped over his
eyes in an obtrusive fashion, and when his eyes were visible
between the strands, they shone a deep shade of green.  His skin
was light colored, showing he cared more for air conditioning than
sunlit days outdoors.  He was tall, taller than Lita, and had long
legs and a lanky body that looked as if someone stretched him about
six inches longer than he should have been.
     He was leaning against the top of the information desk,
talking with the bored manager seated behind it.  He was holding a
hand-drawn map and was pointing to it, the manager gesturing to
directions outdoors.  He didn't see her, and Lita's heart began to
hammer against her rib cage so hard she thought it would burst from
her chest like some gory alien movie.  
     Ken's words sounded in her head.
     Her fist clenched tight.
     Her mind buzzed with explanations.
     Her heart ached, longingly.
     Lita started walking towards the door and Freddie.  Freddie
gave the manager a confused look, and then flipped the map upside
down.
     Ken's words sounded.
     Her fist clenched.
     Her mind buzzed.
     Her heart ached.
     Lita walked a careful tread, within two yards of Freddie. 
Freddie thanked the manager, and stooped to pick up his backpack.
     Ken's words.
     Her fist.
     Her mind.
     Her heart. 
     Lita was an armslength from Freddie now, so close she could
hear him sigh.  Freddie hauled up his pack and stood, facing Lita.
     Words.
     Fist.
     Mind.
     Heart.
     Lita walked up to him; she could see her reflection in his
eyes.  Lita walked beside him, her shirt brushing against his
sweater.  And Lita walked past him, through the double doors, and
out onto the street.
     She waited until she had covered at least a block before
breathing again.  Her pulse was racing, her palms were sweating,
and her head was throbbing, but she'd never felt better in her
life.  Lita laughed out loud, giddy with accomplishment.  She
laughed again, hearing her voice echo through the streets.  She
continued laughing hysterically for about five minutes until lack
of oxygen made her stop, and tears on her face made her start.
     She blinked in confusion a few times, and made to brush the
tears from her face, but stopped.  She instead turned her head to
peer at her reflection in a shop window.  Lita stared back at her,
tears streaming down her face.  She looked into her eyes, and into
her heart as a tear dribbled down her cheek and dropped off her
chin.
     Lita saw the tiny glowing ember the remained to ache and yearn
in her heart, and watched it die as the tears fell upon it.
     Lita smiled.
     Im the reflection of the street behind her, she saw a tall,
dark haired man with glasses and a terrific bod walking on the
opposite sidewalk.  She turned, her hand brushing all traces of
moisture from her face, and crossed the street at an eager pace.


The End


(As usual, Sailor Moon, the Sailor Scouts, their names, likenesses
and all that assorted legal stuff are copyrighted by a gazillion
different companies, and I am not challenging those rights in any
way.  However this story is a Robin Seabaugh original and will
remain that way. ;)

Completed 8/96