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 accessible series so EVERYONE can enjoy
them.

     Without further ado ...

Rating: G


                                 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 its 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 duffel 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, untannable 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 arms length 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.
     I'm 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