HOT CONTROVERSY 3
A Sailor Moon Sekkushiaru Roman

by Sailor Mac
	"Ah, alone at last!"
	Lita gave Ken a kiss on top of the head just before sliding into the booth
opposite him at Crown Cafe. "I've been looking forward to this all day,"
she
said, just before giving him a second kiss on the lips. "You look terrific."
	"You don't look so bad yourself." He opened his arms, inviting a hug. She
sat next to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting her head on
his shoulder. Gods, but it felt good to be close to him!
	"Bad day?" he said.
	"Not really bad, just a lot of little, annoying things. I think every
light bulb in my apartment blew at once. Then Haruna sprang a pop spelling
quiz on us that I was nowhere near ready for, and I *barely* passed it. And
after school, we had a meeting at the temple and I was the only one who was
interested in what was going on. Serena kept playing Pokemon on her
Gameboy, Raye had her nose stuck in some bishonen manga, Amy had her
notebooks open and was doing her homework, and Mina. . .gods only know
where Mina was. . ."
	"She didn't show up?"
	"Oh, she did. Physically."
	"Aahh. I get it."
	"Luna finally gave up and sent everyone home."  She started to go on, then
remembered where they were. . .discussing Sailor Soldier business out loud
in public was a definite no-no. So she took out her notebook, opened to a
blank page, scribbled a note and handed it to him. He took the notebook and
read, "She said, 'Just because the Deathbusters are gone doesn't mean that
something else isn't going to show up! You remember that when Lita is still
standing, and the rest of you are being flattened by gods-know-what!'"
	He laughed, then scribbled a note back to her. "You really like all that
Sailor Soldier business, don't you?"
	She wrote back, "Yes, I do.  I've enjoyed it ever since day one. I *like*
being able to take out monsters and creeps! Hey, I've always been good in a
fight, I might as well use it constructively!"
	Ken gave her a kiss on the forehead and said out loud, "A butt-kicking
amazon who's also a gourmet chef and a green thumb. My kind of woman."
	"You forgot that I'm also a human Pikachu," she replied in a whisper.
	"You're the sexiest Pikachu I ever saw. I can't blame Team Rocket for
wanting to steal you."
	"Keep talking like that, and you may end up having me kiss the hell out of
you in front of everyone."
	"I'll just talk away, then."
	She laughed, then drew him closer for another kiss. My life is pretty good
overall, she thought. . .but he's the thing that makes me *really* come
alive.
	Then, she gave a little inward sigh. . .because moments like this had
become fewer and more far between lately. . .

* * *
	David Chase was trying to concentrate.
	Unfortunately, the noise level in the apartments next door to and below
his was making that impossible. When one lived in a house with four
apartments, three of which housed college students, one did have to expect
noise almost around the clock. He just could have done with a little less
of it at this point.
	He got up from his computer and switched on his air purifier. . .not
because the room was smoky or stifling, but because the low, "white noise"
sound the motor made blocked out the stereos and yelling. He then attempted
to go back to his editorial for the campus newspaper.
	It seemed his views on free speech were very much in demand lately. The
Freedom League, always the campus organization nobody had ever heard of,
was finally getting attention - *real* attention, not just people telling
him the name sounded like a group of superheroes.
	He thought it was a shame that it took this campus pornography controversy
to do it.
	David never wanted to be a public figure, he hadn't intended to get into
the firestorm.  He preferred to be subtle, he knew attention always meant
trouble.
	Then, that fiery redhead, Lori, had started her very loud anti-porn
campaign. And his subtlety was getting drowned out under all her bluster.
This annoyed him to no end. She was forcing him to adopt methods that were
not his style, forcing him to push himself into the spotlight. He'd found
himself having to match her speech for speech, editorial for editorial,
public demonstration for public demonstration.
	I'm standing up for what I believe in, he thought, but not the way *I*
wanted to. Sometimes, I feel like I'm being true to myself and untrue to
myself at the same time.
	But whether the methods were right or wrong, the message was coming
across. Suddenly, The Freedom League's membership had tripled. He found
that whenever he was in the cafeteria or pub, there was a crowd surrounding
him, hanging on to his every word.
	In a way, it was good to think that people were genuinely interested in
preserving the rights of the individual. . .but he sometimes wondered how
many were sincerely interested and how many were people who just loved
being at the eye of the porn controversy storm - or were just into porn.
Some of them seemed *too* gung-ho, *too* willing to shout their gospel from
every corner, *too* eager to engage Lori's followers in debates - debates,
hell, all-out arguments.
	He sat back, images of some of the recent fights rolling through his mind.
There had been one last week that had come close to being an out-and-out
brawl. . .only his own intervention had stopped it.
	I've got to get that under control, he thought. Next meeting, I've got to
remind them all that we are first and foremost a political action group,
not a bunch of evangelists. That Lori is responsible for that. . .
	He caught himself. Dammit, that's not *me* again, he thought. I believe in
*freedom*. . .and here I am trying to *control* other people. Now that
woman is forcing me to become a dictator!
	He let out a sigh. Okay, so it's not like I *really* want to lay down the
law with everyone, he thought. Just enough so I can make sure everyone's
cool around her and her followers, that's all. . .it's not as if I'm going
to be shoving *rules* down their throats or anything. . .
	Lori. He wasn't sure what he thought about his counterpart - or, perhaps,
the right word should be *opponent*. Her brash style certainly didn't make
her or her followers look very refined, and he found her pro-censorship
stance quite disturbing. She kept saying that she wanted to keep people
from being hurt - but didn't she know that few, if any rape cases could be
proven beyond a shadow of a doubt to have been caused by pornography, while
the loss of free speech hurt all of society as a whole? He'd done an
exhaustive research paper on the topic of censorship the previous semester,
and he was well aware of all the research that had been done into the
effects of pornography - cold, hard facts that this woman was clearly not
familiar with.
	Didn't she even bother doing her homework before she ran off half-cocked
to change the world? Where are they really coming from, her and her
friends? he thought. What put such an attitude into their heads? He didn't
know whether he wanted to crucify them in print. . .or to sit down with
them for a session of calm, intelligent debate and discourse.
	The more he thought about her and her attitude, the further he leaned
toward crucifixion. And that surprised him. I've been up against people
with different attitudes than mine before, he thought. I spent four years
on the high school debate club and lots of time on youth political action
committees. And nobody has gotten to me the way she has. It's like she
knows precisely how to ruffle my feathers. . .
	He tried to write again. He knew he had to choose his words carefully. .
.whatever he said would have an influence on everyone who was on his side.
He didn't let his status give him a swelled head, or affect him in any
other way. . .he considered himself a calm and centered person.
	Except, the atmosphere in the apartment house was not exactly helping him
remain calm. . .or doing anything to encourage his creativity. His upstairs
neighbors had a party going on, and there were more and more voices
talking, and the stereo was being cranked louder and louder. . .
	For a second, he had an urge to go up there, yank the door open and shout,
"What is *wrong* with you people? Why are you partying your lives away when
there's more important things to do. . .when people have declared war on
your right to express yourself in public any way you choose?" But he
stopped himself quickly. I'm starting to sound like a stuffed shirt, he
thought. It's like I'm in Freedom League mode around the clock.
	"One more thing I have to thank you for, Lori," he murmured, his voice
dripping sarcasm.
	He took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts. They weren't
collecting. He felt stressed-out and restless.
	I need to go for a walk, he thought. I need a change of scenery for a
little while. Then, maybe I'll be able to come back here and start fresh.
	He decided to take a walk in the direction of the arcade and cafe to see
what was going on. He knew that the kid who lived next door, Ken, often
hung out there.
	It'll be nice just to talk to someone not directly involved in this for
awhile, he thought.
	* * *
	Ken spotted his friend entering the cafe just as the waitress finished
taking their orders. Where's he been? he thought. I used to see him  every
day, but I haven't seen him in weeks! It's as if he's spending his entire
life at school nowadays.
	'Scuse me for a minute, hon," he said to Lita, getting up from the booth
and crossing the room. "Dave?"
	David heard his friend's voice and turned toward him. "Hey, Ken!" he said,
giving him a friendly back-slap. "How's it going?"
	"Terrific. What about you? I haven't seen you since. . ."
	It was definitely not the first time David had heard those words. "A lot
of people haven't seen me since. I've been *unbelievably* busy."
	"School?"
	"You. . .might say that." (Actually, David thought, this is taking time
*away* from my schoolwork, and he felt a pang of guilt about that).
	"Have you ever met my girlfriend?" he said, leading David over to the
table. "Dave, this is Lita. . .Lita, this is David Chase. He lives in the
apartments next door."
	"Hi," Lita said, extending a hand to shake. Where have I seen him before,
she thought. . .
	"Well, I just stopped in for a quick cup of coffee," David said. "I'm just
going to sit at the counter and. . ."
	"Why don't you join us?" Lita asked, curious to find out more about this
person.
	"Yes, by all means," Ken added.
	"Thanks." David slid into the booth. "It's nice to have a few moments to
relax. . .my schedule's been kind of hectic lately."
	"David goes to the same college as Darien and Adam," Ken said.
	"Really? Maybe that's where I've seen you before."
	"You probably saw me in the arcade, actually. I was in there last week
with my organization, passing out fliers."
	"Organization?" she said.
	"I'm the president of my campus's chapter of the Freedom League. We're a
free speech and human rights organization. And we're kind of involved in a
controversy right now."
	Lita put the pieces together. Controversy. . .college. . .human rights. .
.
	Then, suddenly, it hit her. "You're involved in the porn thing that's
going on right now?"
	David bristled - why did people thing this whole thing was *just* about
pornography? He folded his arms across his chest in a rather defensive
stance and said dryly, "It goes far beyond that. We're working for the
right of people to access anything they want in the school library, and
post anything they want on the college Web site. There's a very vocal group
that wants to stomp on those rights. You're familiar with the controversy,
then?"
	Lita remembered Amy right after those Sailor Mercury stories had appeared
on the Web. . .how shell-shocked she'd seemed. . .She'd remembered being
angry at whoever was responsible.
	"Yes, I'm familiar with it," she said. "It's hard *not* to be familiar
with it nowadays if you live around here."
	"It's kind of spilled past the boundaries of the college," David said.
	"You could say that," Lita said. "Everywhere I go, people are talking
about this, or hanging signs up, or passing out fliers."
	David sighed inwardly. Are we making the whole town even more sick of this
than we are? he thought. He became curious about her reactions. "And how do
you feel about all this?"
	Lita was taken aback by that - nobody had ever asked her feelings on the
matter. Other than what had been done to Amy, she had no feelings about
pornography one way or another. It didn't strike her as good or evil, it
was just. . .there. She certainly wasn't unaware that people posted erotica
on the Web. . .she'd seen some of it before, and found it more amusing than
arousing.
	"Well, to be honest," she said, "I'll just be glad when it's all over and
I don't have to hear about it all the time anymore."
	"Okay, we can be over-the-top sometimes, I know," David said. "But we
can't get the message out any other way. People just don't realize how
important this whole matter is. "
	"Have you heard Darien or Adam say anything about it?" Ken said to Lita.
	"Darien? Adam?" said David.	
	"Her best friend goes out with Darien Chiba, and her other best friend
goes out with Adam Chambers," Ken said.
	"Ah. Adam, unfortunately, seems to have taken my opponent's side in all
this. Darien. . .well, I've been trying to win him over, but I haven't been

getting very far." Good grief, David thought, I sound like a politician,
trying to charm votes out of people. "Sorry for sounding so much like a TV
preacher trying to save souls."
	"It's okay," Lita said. "I've heard far worse."
	Doubtlessly, David thought, from Lori's gang.
	"So that's where you've been all this time?" said Ken. "Drumming up
support for your cause?"
	"Yep. And it's a full-time job. But I'm willing to put in the time. When I
think of people telling other people what's right and wrong for them to
read. . .it makes me absolutely furious. Who are they to tell me how to
think and what to believe? I have free will just as much as they do. The
campus Web site was always designed as a forum for free speech. That
includes *all* kinds of expression."
	Nobody could be *that* devoted to a cause, Lita thought. He probably
thinks it makes him look like a Sensitive Guy and attracts women. Still,
you've gotta admire his persistence.
	"I've never seen the Web site," Ken said. "Just what is on it, anyway?"
	"Well, the part that everyone's been making a fuss about is the fiction
section. Seems that some people have been publishing erotica there."
	Lita gave a start. A picture flashed through her head of Amy close to
tears, telling them about how she'd been violated by those stories. . .I
wonder how much this guy knows about them? she thought. Cautiously, so as
not to give too many emotions away, she asked him, "Is it trashy stuff?"
	"Well, some of it's trashy. . .but some of it's beautifully done. Some of
it is even warm and romantic. It would be a sin if people couldn't be able
to read it anymore."
	"What, people wrote fantasies about their lovers?" Ken said.
	"Oh, some of it's obviously thinly-disguised stories about the writer's
significant other. There's also some fantasies about celebrities. . .I
think people have done stories about all five Sailor Soldiers now. . ."
	Lita jumped again when she heard that.  She definitely wasn't unaware that
people found the Sailor Soldiers attractive. . . "The Erotic Tales of
Sailor Mercury" had been proof of that.
	It actualy should surprise me that people went as far as to write erotica,
she thought. I never really thought about it. . . Hmmm.  Cool.  I wonder if
its any good.  Or at least not bad. She'd seen some fanfics online, both
erotic and non-erotic, based on various anime, TV shows and movies, and
some of them had been *really* good.
	It seemed that Ken didn't share her enthusiasm. She heard him say, "All
*five* of them?" in a tone of disgust.
	"Well, actually, that's not 100% accurate." Ken seemed to relax. "There's
been a couple about the new soldiers that popped up a few months ago as
well." Ken looked like he was going to keel over.
	Ken got up from the booth, still looking upset. "I have to use the men's
room," he said. "I'll be right back."
	Lita watched him go. Erotica about me, she thought. I am just *so*
curious. . .I wonder how I'm portrayed in those stories? Is it like me. .
.or something that isn't meat all? What kind of situations did they put me
in? And though she didn't want to admit it to herself, she loved the idea
of people paying so much attention to her. . .
	She leaned over toward David. "By the way," she said, "what's the address
of that Web site?"
* * *
	"I don't like the idea of people writing that kind of stuff about you,"
Ken said as they walked home afterward. "It's like someone put a camera in
your boudoir and broadcast it to the entire world. . ."
	"He said it wasn't *all* bad," she replied. "Besides, it's all just
fiction, it's not as if they were *really* spying on us."
	"Good or bad, it bothers me that strangers are thinking those kind of
things about you and writing them down."
	"Honey. . .they're not writing them about *me.* They're writing them about
some girl they've seen in the newspapers. For all they know, Sailor Jupiter
is a creature who lives in a tree trunk and only pops out when danger
arrives."
	"Yes, but *I* know who Sailor Jupiter is. She's the girl who's been my
best friend since I was six years old. She's the most important person in
my life. And she's *not* the kind of person you write garbage about!"
	She kissed him. "Please. . .don't let it bother you, Ken. I'm not letting
it bother me. Whatever is said about me on that site doesn't affect the way
I function as a person *or* a Sailor Soldier." They had reached her
apartment building. "Wanna come in?"
	"Not tonight. . .too much homework."
	She gave a little inward sigh. There had been a lot of "not tonights"
lately. He was spending less and less time alone with her. . .as if he was
taking her for granted, thinking she would always be there in the future,
so he didn't *have* to be with her now. He doesn't realize how much I miss
him, she thought.
	She threw her arms around his neck. "Just relax and forget about it. I
love you."
	"I love you, too."
	She opened the door to her apartment, slowly. We really have to sit down
and have a talk, she thought. Things are so great when we're together. .
.so why aren't we together more often?
	Her eyes fell on a framed picture on the mantel, of her and Ken as
children playing together. We were together every day then, she thought. We
were together all the time when we first became lovers, too. Maybe the
relationship is getting. . .*too* comfortable? Too predictable, too boring?
	I've got to do something else before I get depressed, she thought. She
knew from recent experience that thinking too much about this would bring
on a major bout of the blues. And she went straight for the lime-green iMac
that Ken's family had given her as a Christmas present. She reached into
her purse as it booted up, finding the napkin where she'd scrawled the URL.
	It was hard not to take a liking to David, she thought. He was a nice guy
who was willing to stand up for his beliefs. He didn't seem afraid to speak
his mind, either. Lita liked that in a person.
	And if someone like that says the stories aren't all bad, she thought. . . .
	She opened her browser and typed in the address. It took only a few clicks
until she was at the appropriate page.
	He wasn't kidding when he said there was stories about all five of us, she
thought, as she scrolled through the titles. "Fire of Mars". . . "I'm Your
Venus". . . "Moon Goddess" . . .the several stories about Amy. . .
	She found it rather amusing, in fact, that people would spend so much time
slaving over erotic fantasies about girls who, for most of the citizens of
Tokyo, were little more than legends. Don't they have any other hobbies?
she thought. And why do so many of them seem to obsess over *Amy*? I mean .
. . is it the brains?  The blue hair?  The quiet type?  Corrupting an
innocent?  Of course, Amy probably isnt as innocent as ANY one liks to
think anyway . . . She felt a small pang of jealousy. Amy's getting more
attention from strangers than I've been getting from the man I love lately,
she thought. Which made her all the more determined to find the stories
people had written about *her.*
	It took only a bit more scrolling to find some. "Captured Thunder" . . .
"Electric Storm" . . . "Thunder Buns". . . All she could do when she saw
those titles was laugh. . .*especially* that last one! Gods, she thought,
these guys have seen *too many* late-night cable movies. . .
	She opened one called "The Capture of Sailor Jupiter" and started to read.
It turned out to be similar to one of the stories that Amy had talked
about, one of the ones that had horrified her so much. . .the plot involved
her being captured and raped by a tentacle monster. But Lita's reaction was
a bit different.
	How dull, she thought. Can't they think of anything original? And the
typing is just *so* bad. . .it's practically unreadable!
	She clicked her "back" button, then tried another one. . . "Thunder and
Lightning." The story was very well-written. . .spelling and grammar
correct, written with a sense of style. . .It was a first-person piece
where the narrator never described who he was, just that he encountered
this mysterious woman in a fuku who was rescuing innocent people from a
horrible evil. He approached her, to thank her for everything she'd done. .
. .she'd engaged him in a brief conversation, then led him to a house in
the middle of the woods, a house where she supposedly lived.
	Hmm, she thought, this is a *very* nice story so far. Okay, maybe these
writers aren't *all* perverts.
	When they got there, they made out, and then she made her fuku disappear.
. . "and underneath, she wore a bra and panties. Leopard print. How very,
very appropriate, I thought. . .like a big cat, she's graceful and
beautiful. . .and also very, very wild."
	Suddenly, the idea of wearing leopard-skin undies sounded very, very
appealing. . .especially when she thought of Ken seeing her wearing them,
and suddenly deciding he was not *too busy* for her anymore. . .I've never
dressed up in anything like that for him, she thought. Maybe that's just
the kind of thing we need, something *different*.
	The story went on to describe how she gave the narrator oral sex. . .still
wearing the leopard-skin underwear. ..and then, he finally peeled it off
her and returned the favor. . .
	Now this, she thought, is a bit more like it! She realized she was fanning
herself as she read. Seeing herself in those situations. . .it was making
her feel like a goddess, like an object of worship and adoration. It was
flattering as hell.
	And it was also making images start to rise in her head, images whih were
faint at first and got stronger and stronger as she continued to read. .
.hot images of her and Ken acting out the story, of her in that
leopard-print underwear, or him running his hands all over her body,
whispering his love. . .
	When it was over, she hit "print." This was something she wanted to hold
on to and share.
	I can't remember when I saw anything that sexy, that exciting, she thought
as she turned off the computer. Wish I knew who wrote it, I'd like to tell
them what a good job they did. . .
	She thought of herself telling a little bespectacled geek that, and his
reaction. . .getting an instant nosebleed and passing out. She laughed,
loudly.
	But really, she thought. . .are they *really* all bespectacled geeks? She
certainly didn't think that someone like that wrote *this* story. It was
written by someone with talent and intelligence. . .and obviously someone
who knew how human bodies functioned in lovemaking.
	I wish I could convince Ken to actually *look* at this, she thought. Maybe
he'd change his mind about this kind of thing if he did. . .and maybe he
might even find it inspirational.
	As she got ready for bed, she thought, there's two things I need to do
tomorrow. One is download some more stories about me on the site.
	The other is go to a lingerie store and get a tiger-print underwear set.
* * *
	Ken sat alone in his room, a textbook in front of him. . .but he wasn't
concentrating on it at all. He couldn't get the thought of those *stories*
out of his mind.
	I've seen some of those things people post on the Net, he thought. I know
what the women are portrayed like in those stories. I do *not* want people
thinking that'swhat Lita's like. . .in her sailor uniform or out of it. An
image of her in magical form flashed in his head, and he thought about the
skimpiness of the fuku. . .just the kind of thing to invite unwelcome
attention. . .
	He put the book down and paced around his room a bit, trying to work out
some of the stress. It wasn't doing much good.
	I know her better than anyone, he thought. I've known her since she was
six years old.  I know what she likes and dislikes, when she's going to fly
into one of her rages and when she's going to stay mellow, when she wants
to make love and when she'd rather spend the evening with a stack of anime
videos and a big bowl of popcorn. . .
	I hate the thought of other people having sex with her in their minds,
writing it down and putting it in front of the world, saying, "This is what
Sailor Jupiter is like," he thought.
	He paced faster. She doesn't belong to the world, he thought. She belongs
to me, dammit! She's not some Playboy Playmate put on public display for
men to ogle!
	But a nagging voice at the back of his head said, "Does she? Does she
*really*? How could anyone with a sworn duty to protect the public. . .to
protect *everyone*. . .belong to just one person. Lita Kino may be yours
and yours alone. . .but is Sailor Jupiter?"
	He tried to block the thoughts out. . .but they kept coming. "The Sailor
Jupiter in those stories is the one the public sees. . .just an image, a
legend. Can you honestly say that you *own* that? You're pretty damn
selfish if you do."
	Oh, he knew the answer to that. He knew it all too well. And it was
something about himself that he didn't feel ready to face.
	He flung himself back onto the bed and forced his thoughts to turn in
another direction, to think about David. He definitely liked and respected
his neighbor, and certainly wasn't going to stand in the way of his free
speech campaign.
	But there was one point where they definitely disagreed, and that point
was pornography. It was okay when written about fictional people. . .but
when *real* people started being portrayed, people with families and
friends and lovers who could read it. . .
	"I'm sorry, buddy," he said out loud. "You've lost my support on this
one."
	Suddenly, he felt an estrangement from his friend, as if there had been a
huge wedge driven between them. David didn't seem like an ally anymore. And
that bothered him. . .almost as much as his feelings about Lita and the
erotic matierial.
	It doesn't matter, in the long run, he thought. I've made the right
decision. . .for Lita's sake.
	He rolled over and picked up the book again. I have to get back to work,
he thought. I've spent too much time on this already, and there's nothing
to worry about anymore. And he buried himself in work, letting everything
else fade from his thoughts.
* * *
	David finished writing the editorial. He'd resisted the urge to totally
crucify Lori in print. . .although he'd managed to get in a couple of zingers,
including a reference to "those who would sacrifice freedoms that many
people on this planet would kill and die for on the altar of political
correctness."
	He began to read it over, and felt satisfied that he'd reined himself in.
A few weeks ago, he hadn't been too careful. He'd published a letter to the
editor designed to take Lori's theories apart piece by piece, and he'd been
brutal about it, calling her a "hysterical victim feminist" who was
"totally out of touch with the true thoughts and feelings of real women -
and men." He'd gotten negative reactions even from some of his supporters,
telling him he'd gone too far.
	I've never been pushed to that extent before, he thought. I've always been
able to stay calm and rational. It's just that that woman makes me lose it
and go ballistic.
	As he continued to read, he thought again about his rival. Where
on earth is she coming from? Did her mother raise her as a hardcore,
all-women-are-victims-of-all-men feminist? Did she rebel against a family
which was open and accepting of sexual matters?
	Maybe I should talk to Professor Birch, he thought. I know she was in one
of his classes last semester. . .perhaps he knows something about her, or
knows some people I could ask. Professor Birch, the head of the
university's history department, was, by far, David's favorite teacher.
Both of them shared an absolute passion for the past, and he'd stayed after
class many a day to have a discussion or debate with him.
	It was during one such discussion that David got the idea to start the
Freedom League chapter. They had been talking about various democratic
revolutions that had taken place around the world, in particular, the
American one.
	"It's grass-roots action by the people that won them their freedom from
tyranny," the professor said. "And only continuous grass-roots action can
assure that this freedom is preserved."
	I'm working the grass roots, all right, he thought. The only problem is,
now I've got a potential lawnmower on my hands in the form of this Lori.
	He e-mailed his article off to the paper, and was about to shut the
computer down. . .but he found himself starting an e-mail to Professor
Birch, inquiring about Lori.
	This is becoming an obsession, he thought, trying to get to the bottom of
what makes her and her little gang tick. . .am I overdoing it? Am I acting
like. . .some kind of stalker?
* * *
	"Not going to the arcade?" Serena said, as she and Lita walked home from
school.
	"I can't.. Ken's coming over tonight, and there's a couple of things I
need to buy."
	A slow, mischievous smile stole over Serena's face. "I remember when you
would *never* pass up a chance to see *Andrew*. . ."
	"Yes, and who was drooling over him right beside me?" Both girls laughed.
	I don't get a chance like this all that often anymore, she thought. I'm
going to make the most of it.
	She left Serena at the arcade, and continued on to the lingerie store
further down the block. Oh, she knew just the kind of thing she was looking
for. The author of the story had described the underwear perfectly.
	This may be just what the doctor ordered, she thought. Experimenting. .
.trying out new things, new fantasies. . .that'll keep our relationship
from seeming like same-old-same-old. That'll keep him coming back again.
	She stopped for a second. What am I doing? she thought. Am I that much
afraid of losing him that I'll start acting like the me that was portrayed
in the fics? Like a shallow bimbo who's up for anything sexual and nothing
else?
	No, she thought, that's silly. I'm not lowering myself. . .I'm doing this
for love. I'm just borrowing a couple of ideas from the stories, that's
all.
	As soon as she walked into the shop, her guilt and concern started
evaporating. She felt like a kid in a candy store. There were sexy little
teddies and see-through bras and cut-out underwear all over the place. If I
could afford it, she thought, I could have a different outfit every weekend
of the year!
	Then, she saw them, hanging over a display on the near wall.
	Perfect, she thought. This is *me*. . .the *me* that whoever wrote that
story sees. . .
	She picked the panties up and looked at the back. . .what very little
there was of it.
	He's always loved my breasts, she thought, to the point where they've
distracted him from. . .other parts of my body. Maybe this will help shift
his focus. . .lower. . .
* * *
	He arrived at her apartment at about seven. After kissing her, he said,
"You look happy tonight."
	"Oh?" she said, a bit mischieviously. "Is that unusual?"
	"No, but this seems like a *special* kind of happy. Like you've got a
secret or something. . ."
	"Maybe I do," she said. "Come on, dinner's just about ready."
	Whatever she's got up her sleeve, he thought, it's got to do with more
than food.
	But his curiousity quickly evaporated in the face of her culinary mastery.
He eagerly devoured everything she'd put in front of him. . .the soup, the
shabu-shabu, the homemade bread. . .
	"Lita, I think you outdid yourself," Ken said, putting down his fork at
last.
	"Thanks," she said, carrying a load of dishes to the dishwasher. She
caught a glimpse of her reflection in the windowpane. In her white sweater
and black jeans, she looked almost demure. There was no hint whatsoever of
what she was wearing underneath.
	He's about to get a pleasant surprise, she thought.
	"Now. . .are you thinking about dessert?"
	He let out a deep breath. "I don't know if I'd be able to eat another
bite."
	"You may like *this* dessert," she said, leaning over to give him a kiss.
She swept up the last of the dishes, put them in to wash and headed out of
the room, calling, "I'll see you in a few!" over her shoulder.
	Ken let out a chuckle as she left. She keeps reminding me of why I love
her so much, he thought. She's so full of enthusiasm about everything, so
full of life. . .
	So why have I been letting other things get in the way? It's not as if I
don't *want* to see her. I do. But there's other things that need to be
done. . .and I know she always understands about that. . .doesn't she?
After all, I *do* have to keep my grade point average up if I want to get
into a decent college. . .I'll have plenty of time to spend with her after
I do.
	A conflicting voice in his head said, What if you get into a good school
here in Tokyo. . .and she ends up going to culinary school in another
country altogether? If you're in Japan and she's in France or Italy or
America. . .you're going to wish you'd spent more time with her while you
were in high school.
	I'll worry about that when the time comes, he thought. There's no saying
she *will* go away. . .and there's no saying that I'll stay here. I *do*
have to think about my future. . .right? And he struggled to keep down a
rising tide of guilt.
	Then, he began to hear sounds in the bedroom, things moving around, the
rustle of fabric. . .Hmm, he thought, what's going on? It wasn't her usual
style to do something like this. . .their usual routine was for him to
rejoin him in the living room, then they'd talk and make out a bit, then
they'd head for the bedroom. . .
	But this sounded like she was breaking the routine. . .
	And suddenly, curiosity was overwhelming all his other emotions. His
imagination went into overdrive, and his heart started to pound. What could
she have in mind, he thought? He felt a bit nervous, almost like a virgin
again. . .he was going to be facing the unknown when he went in to her, a
feeling he wasn't familar with. It have him butterflies in his stomach,
even as his excitement level rose.
	"Okay," she said, "come into the bedroom."
	Soft candlelight was flickering off the walls, the covers
were turned down. . .
	And there was a vision standing next to the bed, her rich, brown hair
unbound and spilling over her shoulders. She was clad in a tiger print bra
and panty that clung to her skin like they were painted on, the satiny
fabric giving off a soft shimmer in the soft, dim light. It made her look
wild and beautiful and maddenly desirable.
	He sucked in a deep breath. "Wow."
	She gave him a sexy smile. "You like?" And she lay down on the bed, on her
stomach, and he realized the panties were a thong. His heart started
beating twice as fast. His eyes swept over her legs, her thighs, her back,
at the smooth, marble-like perfection of her skin, the graceful curve of
her buttocks, how every part of her seemed delicately, precisely sculpted.
She was as regal and sleek looking as a lioness.
	"I. . .I. . ."
	Words were failing him. It was time to speak with actions.
	He sat on the bed next to her and began to kiss her neck, slowly and
softly, then started to work his way upward. He brushed his lips across her
jawline, and she tipped her head back so his mouth could reach hers. As
their lips met, both of them made low purring noises. His tongue probed her
mouth, and hers came out to tangle with his, stroking each other slowly,
sensuously, then retreating, then coming together again.
	They parted, and he began working his way downward again, letting his lips
caress her neck, then kissing across her shoulders. Slowly, he began to
work down her spine, kissing, then licking, then just letting her feel her
hot breath on him. She made an "mmm" noise and stretched like a cat,
absorbing all the lovely sensations racing through her body.
	Once he reached the junction of her buttocks and back, he took the thong
panty in his teeth and began to pull it downward. She gasped. . .he'd never
taken her underwear off *that* way before. . .When he had it down to her
legs, he pulled it the rest of the way off with his hands, then returned to
where he'd left off.
	He slowly began to kiss his way down the curve of one buttock, and Lita
gasped again. She couldn't believe how good that felt.  As he worked his
way up the other one, the sensations intensified. . .and when he nipped at
her, she let out a moan.
	He's getting creative, she thought. I may not have a chance to do
everything I'd planned. . .not that I care. . .
	When he raised his head, she turned over and sat up. She brought her mouth
to his again, and began to unbutton his shirt. When she pushed it aside,
she let her hands wander all over his chest, stroking and caressing,
running her thumbs over the nipples, feeling him shudder in response.
	Her hand moved lower and unsnapped and unzipped his pants. He quickly
pulled away from her so he could remove them and his underwear; her bra
landed on the floor next to them.
	She motioned for him to sit on the edge of the bed, and she knelt in front
of him. Taking his manhood in her hand, she slowly ran her tongue along the
head, then took the whole thing in her mouth. Slowly, she moved it in and
out, in and out. . .
	He let out a loud moan. "Lita. . .Lita, honey, that feels so good. . ."
	She took him in as far as she could, feeling like a tiger swallowing its
prey, feeling like she was making them into a single being. When his hips
rose to meet her as she increased her pace, she could feel her heart beat
faster, her excitement level rising. She loved being able to please him so
much. . .
	Ah, she thought, but this is no ordinary evening. . .he's about to
experience something brand-new. . .
	She pulled her mouth away. She heard him groan in disappointment. She knew
he was used to her taking him all the way, to climaxing within her mouth. .
.which is exactly why she did what he *didn't* expect.
	She got back on the bed and lay on her back. "Come here," she said,
holding her arms out to him. He sprang for her like a panther, his arms
wrapping around her, his mouth claiming hers. His hands cupped her breasts,
and she felt the fingers start to stroke and caress her nipples, making hot
sparks run all over her body.
	He moved down her body so he could kiss along the curve of her breast,
slowly, savoring the soft-yet-firm texture, the smoothness of her skin, the
luscious taste that was uniquely hers. His tongue flicked across the
hardened tip, and she shuddered in response, the shudders growing harder as
he drew it in and began to suckle. Eagerly, his mouth tugged at the little
bud, his fingers continuing to caress its twin. She writhed beneath him,
her skin slick with sweat as she uttered moans and gasps.
	When he lifted his head, she sat up again, still panting. "Wait a minute,
love. . .I've got something new to try."
	New? he thought. What's she got in mind. . .Part of him was saying, "
hopes it's something that's not wild and kinky". . .while another part was
saying, "I hope it's something that *is*!"
	She reached for the jar of moisturizing cream on the nighttable. She
remembered the story she'd been reading the previous night. . .the
description of how the narrator had slid his manhood between her breasts. .
.
	She applied the cream to the inside edge of each breast, then held them
up. "How would you like to make love to them?"
	"Make love? You mean, actually put it between them and. . ."
	She smiled and nodded.
	"I didn't know. . .I mean, I never tried. . .I mean. . ." He decided
to stop groping for words and just let his body take over.  He slid his
manhood between them, and she squeezed them together, so he was totally
enveloped in hot, moistened softness. When he started to pump his hips, the
sensation was incredible! It wasn't like being in her mouth, or her
womanhood. . .it was an entirely different kind of soft and lovely. Where,
where did she learn to do this? He thrust faster and faster, eager to get
more and more pleasure, more sensation. . .He looked down and saw her
breasts enveloping him, embracing him, his masculinity buried in all that
soft, lovely femininity. . .it was one of the most beautiful things he'd
ever seen in his life.
	She felt deeply satisfied by the sound of his moans and panting. Her
experiment was a success, all right -- she wished the author of the story
was in front of her so she could thank him. She smiled to herself at the
thought of what was doubtlessly a young man staring open-mouthed as a naked
Sailor Jupiter thanked him. . .then pasing out. . .
	Ken managed to catch himself before he went totally over the edge. . .he
wanted to share the pleasure with Lita.  He pulled away from her breasts,
and she embraced him, holding his head to her shoulder, kissing him
tenderly. She remained that way for a few minutes, letting him calm down a
bit.
	Then, she reached for a warm, wet rag she'd put at the ready on the
nighttable. . .she didn't know if the cream was compatible with a condom,
and it was better to be safe than sorry. Gently, she wiped him off, then
got out a condom and put it on him. He sat propped up against the
headboard, and she got on his lap, straddling him, feeling his manhood
enter her. She began a rapid thrust, moving around so she could find the
right angle. . .she knew she didn't have much time, he was almost there
already. . .His hands came up to her breasts, rubbing the nipples, gently
squeezing, and she groaned, moving faster. . .yes, yes, I can feel it
building, I'm getting there, getting there. . .oh, baby, just hold out a
little longer and we can come together. . .
	Suddenly, an electric jolt shot through her, and she was ablaze with
pleasure, feeling one delicious spasm after another shoot through her body.
She cried out his name in a shriek, her hands gripping his shoulders, and
then she heard him cry out as well as he achieved his own ecstasy. They
clung to each other as if their lives depended on it, tumbling down to the
bed.
	They cuddled as they panted, as their bodies gradually stopped shivering,
as their heartbeats returned to normal.
	He was absolutely dazed, not wanting to drift back to reality. "Amazing,"
he said.
	"It was great, wasn't it?" she said.
	"That thing with your breasts. . .you've got some imagination. . ."
	She kissed him. "Surprise. . .I didn't think of it myself. Guess where it
came from?"
	"A book? A movie on cable? One of those mangas they sell in the very back
of the store?"
	"Those stories about me on the college's Web site."
	Somehow, what she said managed to penetrate the pleasurable fuzz in his
mind. "The. . .stories. . .you read *those stories*?"
	"Yes. And they were very inspiring."
	Now it was hitting him full-force. She read the stories, he thought, last
night, after I left her alone. . .He sat up. "You mean that *garbage*?"	
	"It isn't garbage! You *liked* what was in those stories!"
	"I like when it's just between you and me! I don't like the entire world
reading it!" In his mind, the thought was forming that maybe she read them
to feel like someone was giving her attention. . .attention I didn't give
her last night. . .He pushed it away. No, no, she was just curious, that's
all.
	"Ken. . .it's not really about *me*. It's someone's fantasy. They took
their fantasy of an ideal woman and just attached Sailor Jupiter's face and
name to it."
	"And then there's a lot of guys jacking off over that fantasy with your
face attached."
	"Maybe. But none of them are *really* going to touch me, are they?" She
leaned over and kissed him. "Nobody is ever going to touch me but you."
	"Lita. . ." He kissed her back, trying to communicate his need for her in
his kiss. She's mine, he thought, all mine. . .they can write all the
stories about her they want, but she's still *mine.*
	Is she, really? the voice in the back of his head said. You certainly
haven't been acting that way, have you?
	He tried to push it away again. I haven't been neglecting her, not really.
There's just. . .other things I have to do. . .
	When the kiss broke, she said, "Okay, maybe people are going to be
masturbating over those stories. . .but is that really a *bad* thing? And
maybe there's going to be another couple acting the stories out in their
bedroom like we did. It could even bring them closer."
	He shook his head. "I still can't see where that stuff would actually
inspire *romance*. . ."
	"Ken. . .have you *read* any of them?"
	"No. I wouldn't even go to the page."
	She stroked his hair. "Maybe. . .a bit later. . .we can share one." And
she snuggled deeper into his arms and dozed off.
	He leaned his head against hers, emotions bubbling inside him. . .lots of
love, and guilt that was still trying to fight its way to the surface.
	As he listened to her soft breathing, watched her stir ever so slightly,
he began to feel more relaxed. Slowly, he started to drift off to sleep
himself.
* * *
	She woke up a few hours later.
	She looked at the man she loved, peacefully slumbering. It was a success,
she thought. I can't remember the last time I felt so loved. This very well
have been the best night we've ever had.
	Now, she thought, if only I could get him to look at those stories. . .if
both of us were reading them, we could surprise each other all the time. We
could have a lot of nights like this. . .or maybe even better.
	She got up from the bed, reaching for the bathrobe hanging on her closet
door. She went to the computer, turned it on, and found the Web site.
	Ken woke up to find her gone. He rolled over to where she had been lying,
so he could feel her warmth, inhale her scent. . .
	A noise in the living room told him where she was.
	She was scrolling down the page when she felt his arms around her, his
lips on her temple. She reached up and caressed his face. "Hi, honey," she
said.
	"Hi, gorgeous. Are you up to no good?"
	"Well, I'm back on the stories page, if that's what you mean. Want to see?
There seems to be a new one about me. . ." She pointed to a story entitled,
"Crash of Thunder."
	"Why don't we read this one together?" she said.
	Suddely, he wanted to get up and walk away. Something in him was still
resisting reading one of those things.
	"Please. . .can't we just go back to bed instead?"
	"Ken. . .why *are* you afraid to read this? What do you think you'll find?"
	And then, he found himself blurting out the truth, almost unconsciously. .
. "I'm afraid I'll see stuff written by guys who have no respect for you,
who treat you like dirt, and there's nothing I can do about it. . .and I'm
afraid I'll be seeing men who pay attention to you. . .who worship you. .
.and will never have you. . .while I have you. . .and I've been taking you
for granted." He took a deep breath. "The way I've been acting has been
lousy, and I'm afraid of losing you. . .because I feel. . .that I don't
fully deserve you."
	Lita was stunned. She had hoped he'd realize what he'd been doing to her.
. .but she had no idea his feelings would run so deep.
	She put her arms around him. "Ken. . .you don't have to feel like that."
	"Yes, I do. I don't know if I can make it up to you."
	"You don't need to. I love you, you know that. And I forgive you." She
hugged him closer. "And I don't want to hear you say that you don't deserve
to be forgiven. You do."
	"I want to start over. Please. . .I want another chance."
	"I know you do. And I'm willing to give it to you. Maybe, in a way, I was
taking you for granted, too. I was always doing things the same way, I
wasn't trying anything different."
	"Oh, honey. . ." He kissed her, running his hands over and over her hair.
"I love you so much. . ."
	"I love you, too."
	They just stayed there for a long moment, savoring their closeness.
	"I could stay here holding you all night," he said.
	"Just holding?"
	"Of course not. I'd be holding you. . .*while* doing other things."
	"Do I need to ask you to spell them out?"
	"Nope. Just let your imagination run wild."
	"Hmm. . .I like what my imagination is telling me."
	"And what's it saying?"
	"Tell you what. . .I'll open one of the stories, you point to something
and I'll tell you if that's it."
	She felt him stiffen a bit. Oh, no, she thought, not again. . .
	"Ken. . .it's okay to look at the stories. Really. I just thought it would
be something fun for us to share together. But if you don't want to. . .we
won't."
	He hesitated. I'm still afraid to find out what's afraid in those things,
he thought. What other guys were thinking about her when I. . .wasn't
thinking about her.
	But, he had to admit. . .there *was* curiosity. Especially after she said
that their memorable evening had been inspired by one of those stories.
	Fear and curiosity warred within him. He felt attracted to the idea of
reading them, then repelled, then attracted again. . .
	Okay, he thought. I'll try one. Just one, and we'll see what happens.
	"No," he said. "I want to see one of them. Show me the one you were
talking about before."	
	She felt a huge smile cross her face, and a warm, tender feeling well up
in her heart. It's like he trusts me now more than ever before, she
thought. She kissed him, soft and sweet, then clicked on the appropriate
link.
	The story described a character named Ronin. . .obviously an author
avatar. . .who found himself lost in a frightening and unfamiliar place
inhabited by hostile creatures. Suddenly, a beautiful woman appeared out of
nowhere, and called down thunder and lightning to eliminate the things
threatening him. . .
	So far, he thought, it doesn't seem that bad. At least this author seems
to respect Lita. . .like me.
	Then, Ronin found himself kneeling before the "goddess" before him,
promising her anything as thanks for saving him. It was pretty obvious what
"anything" was going to be. . .
	But instead of asking outright for sex, Sailor Jupiter only asked for an
evening of companionship. She lived alone in a castle, and often got
lonely.
	At least this guy is trying to be somewhat realistic about human female
behavior, Ken thought. She's not jumping his bones immediately.
	They had dinner and talked, and both revealed that they were lonely people
at heart. They shared tears, shared a kiss, and then things started
developing from there. . .
	When it got to the actual sex scene, it was written beautifully, with
sensuality and grace, pretty euphemisms being used in place of crude words.
Instead of feeling jealous. . .like he would have before their talk. . .he
found he was getting excited. He was picturing himself in the hero's place,
and he felt himself getting aroused all over again.
	He read about Ronin kissing the woman's feet, working his way up her legs,
then giving her oral sex. He could feel the heat in Lita's body, and he
knew she was getting as aroused as he was. The moment of shared heat felt
incredibly intimate. . .they were experiencing a sexy moment together while
barely touching.
	He started to kiss her ear, letting his tongue flick in and out of the
little hole, then move down her neck. His hand slipped under her robe and
cupped a breast, his fingers gently kneading and caressing her nipple,
feeling it harden under his touch, feeling his manhood harden in response.
	"Come on," he said. "Let's go back to bed."  He scooped her up in his arms
and carried her. He set her down. . .then sat at the foot of the bed.
	He gazed upon her lovingly, at her long, long legs with the softly curving
calves and thighs, the well-defined muscles. . .at the full bosom and
delicately rounded hips above and below her slender waist. . .at the dear
face that always seemed to hold an expression that spoke of both
sensitivity and strength. . .
	Tenderly, reverently, he kissed her right foot, caressing the skin with
his lips. She is a goddess, he thought, and I'm going to treat her with the
respect she's due. He moved up, kissing her ankles, one, then the other. .
.
	Lita moaned as she felt him start to slowly kiss his way up her leg. He
nibbled at the skin here and there, caressed with his tongue every now and
again. He raised his head only to murmur, "Goddess. . .my goddess. . ." She
felt herself shudder with excitement when she heard that. . .it made her
feel so good, so desirable, so. . .worshipped. . .
	When he kissed his way to her inner thighs, he reached up, untying her
robe and pushing it aside. He wanted her naked, blissfully naked, not a
stitch anywhere. . .
	He nibbled at the sensitive skin, inching closer and closer to his true
goal. . .She moaned in anticipation. His tongue flicked lightly, ever so
lightly at her outer lips, and she spread her legs as wide as she could,
reaching down for his head, pushing it where she wanted it the most.
	She felt him thrust his tongue between her folds, and then start to stroke
up and down her petals. She thrust her hips toward him, encouraging him to
devour her, lick, suck, nibble, anything. . .He began to nip her outer lips
lightly, and she whimpered. When his tongue began to swirl in circles
around her jewel, but never made direct contact with the little nub, she
whimpered some more.
	And then, he thrust it into her, deep, hard and fast, and began a rapid
in-and-out stroke that made her moan, loudly, her fingers now tangling in
his hair, her hips pumping, every cell of her body feeling like it was on
fire, craving release, oh, sweet, sweet release. . .
	He flicked his tongue out and up, and she felt it directly on her pearl,
caressing, stroking.  . .and that did it. She lifted her hips off the bed and
shrieked as the electric explosion came, as hot ecstasy roared through her
bloodstream and body.
	Gently, he kissed her womanhood a few more times, then sat up, quickly
wiping his mouth on a tissue. He brougth his lips to hers, and she arched
up toward him, feeling his hardness against her.	
	"That was fabulous," she whispered.
	"Anything for you, my love."
	Her fingers slid downward and found his manhood, and she began to stroke
it tenderly, fluttering across the shaft, making lazy circles on the head.
His moans were like music to her ears.
	"Darling," he gasped, "I want to make love to you again."
	She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." But instead of getting into one
of their regular positions. . .her sitting or lying on him, her flat on her
back with him on top of her. . .she got on her hands and knees, her bottom
raised towards him. . .just like it had been described in the last story
they'd read.
	"Aaah," he said, "what a lovely view." He reached for another condom,
applying it in a hurry, then knelt behind her.
	As he thrust into her womanhood, Lita began to feel a new and delicious
sensation, a kind of pleasure she'd never felt before. It seemed to be
running from the front wall of her womanhood all through her. . .As he
picked up the pace, the feeling started to get stronger and stronger,
hotter and hotter. . .
	He grasped her hips, looking down at the gorgeous, wild creature beneath
him, tossing her hair like a lion's mane, uttering low cries of passion.
She looked utterly glorious. His heart swelled with love, with the desire
for ultimate fulfillment with her.
	She pushed back against him, the sensations roaring through her getting
stronger. . .oh, Gods, she thought, what he's doing to me, what he's making
me feel, I can't remember the last time I felt so adored, so *loved*. .
.She moved faster and faster, the hot sensations getting so intense she
thought she was going to explode.
	"I'm going to come!" she cried. And then, it was happening, and her body
was wracked with strong, sweet spasms that seemed to start at her toes and
keep going and going, and there was a strange sensation, as if she was
releasing fluid. . .Dimly, she heard him cry out behind her, but she was
lost, lost in the pleasure that went on and on and. . .
	She collapsed, the pleasure still echoing through her body, and she was
dimly aware of him collapsing beside her, the last spasms of his own climax
dying away. Tenderly, he kissed her, and whispered, "I love you, darling. .
.I love you so much. . ."
	"I love you too," she said.
	She snuggled into his embrace, feeling more relaxed than she'd ever been
in her life. Slowly, a pleasant drowsiness stole over her. . .She thought
about the incredible climax she'd just had, and sounded like something
Serena had once described to her. . .
	"Now I know what a G-spot orgasm feels like," she murmured sleepily.
	He chuckled. "Sounds like a very medical term for something so personal."
	She replied with just a low "mmm" sound, almost fully asleep now. He
kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her, breathing in her sweet scent.
	He just lay there for awhile, watching her sleep. Then, he got out of bed
and went back to the computer, still displaying that Web page.
	He looked over the story they had just read together again. Whoever wrote
this, he thought, has one heck of an imagination. It had certainly done
*them* good.
	Scrolling back up to the part of the story before the sex scene, he read
the descriptions of Sailor Jupiter again. And he began to realize. . .this
was *not Lita.* This was the writer's *fantasy* of what Sailor Jupiter was
like.
	Lita wouldn't giggle behind her hand coyly at a joke. She wouldn't be
quiet, retiring and mysterious. This person in the story seemed to have
little of her boisterousness, her sense of fun.
	He closed that story and opened another. . .it was the same thing. The
Sailor Jupiter in this story was just a blank slate, it seemed, with little
personality traits other than lightning-slinger and sexual dynamo. A third
story had her responding to out-and-out sexual harassment by going to bed
with the harasser, while he knew that in real life, saying those things to
Lita was a sure guarantee of getting one's teeth knocked out!
	She was right, he thought. These stories *aren't* about her. These people
don't know her at all. I went overboard in my reaction. I should have
checked them out firsthand before I opened my mouth.
	He closed the document and sat back in the chair, his hands behind his
head. I never realized I was so jealous, so possessive before this
happened, he thought. I've always had her as part of my life. . .
	He thought about the talk they'd had earlier, when she reassured him of
her love, even though he'd been taking her for granted, even though he was
overpossessive. . .
	I don't have to keep such a tight mental grip on her now, he thought.
Because I know she won't slip away.
	He gave a small laugh. What, he thought, did I really think she'd run off
with one of those guys who wrote the stories? I took the whole thing *much*
too seriously. He could now see his jealousy as totally ridiculous. After
all, he thought, those stories did us some *good* tonight. . .
	I'm going to have to talk to David later, he thought with a smile, and
thank him for helping Lita find this stuff. He doesn't realize how much he
helped us.

* * *
	David was in front of his computer again, but this time, he wasn't working
on an editorial. Instead, he was on a chat client, talking to an old friend
from high school.
	At long last, he had five minutes to himself where he could relax and
breathe. The new volunteers his organization had gotten were to thank for that.
	And one of those volunteers had surprised him. . .his next-door neighbor,
Ken. He'd come up to him out of the blue about a week ago and said, "I want
to help. I'll do whatever you want me to do."
	"But Ken. . .you don't even go to my college! The election doesn't concern
you. . ."
	"Well, I've seen that Web site. . .and I want to help save it."
	Maybe something made him develop a political conscience, David thought.
Maybe he's starting to show some passion about *causes.* Perhaps we've got
a future leader on our hands. . .someone who'd take over and let me step
aside.
	He decided he'd call his friend and invite him to come to that Thursday's
Freedom League meeting. But after dialing, all he heard was a phone that
rang. . .and rang. . .until the answering machine picked up.
	He didn't have to think very hard to figure out what was going on. Ken
wasn't picking up the phone. . .because he definitely wasn't alone tonight.
	He's into our cause, all right, he thought. . .but he's obviously
passionate about more than the cause. And suddenly, David became aware of
his own lonliness, and felt jealous of his friend.  .
	Nonsense, he thought. I've got work to do. And he pushed the feelings away
and went back to the computer.
	
	A few miles away, at Lita's apartment, something was going on that was
decidedly non-political.
	A gasp, a sigh, a moan . . .candlelight flickering off the walls. . .an
occasional low, throaty chuckle. . .
	And then, a voice saying, "Guess which story I got *this* idea from?"


AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'd like to send a *huge* thank-you to my editor on this
series, Steve Savage, whose input has been absolutely invaluable. He's a
good editor and friend, and he also writes. Check out his all-original
fantasy series, Xai, at http://www.seventhsanctum.com/xai/ Trust me,
you'll love it!

Special thanks also go to the members of Lemon Tree and to all the readers
who've written me (sailormac@wjjz.com) to give me comments on my fics! And
thanks to Sailor Skuld, who has just retired from ASMR. She was the first
webmaster to publish my work and has given me inspiration and
encouragement throughout my "career." I'll never be ableto thank you
enough, M-chan!

Standard Sailor Moon disclaimers apply. These characters ain't mine, I'm
just borrowing them for a little while.