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It was late afternoon, just a little bit before closing time. This meant that;

a) school was out.
b) Vanessa was totally rocking Sailor Vulcan's senshi costume at the grocery store.

It was very cold outside and, because bare feet and booty shorts totally sucked when there was snow all over the place, she wore a simple pair of grey sweatpants and a pair of clunky winter-boots overtop of her fuku. But the red metal of Vulcan's vambraces still visibly poked out the end of her jacket sleeve, and the tiara on her forehead glinted in the soft light of the store.

Not too mention that telltale power signature. If it was possible to hide them, Vulcan hadn't figured it out.

Vulcan didn't want to figure it out.

Nobody, it seemed, had thought to tell her how stupid this was. She certainly hadn't figured it out for herself, and smiled amiably at the other customers in the store. They were in need of food, at home. Vanessa had shopped as Super Van. And, it seemed, would shop as a senshi too. Vanessa, it was true, didn't want to power down if she could help it.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she addressed a small elderly lady in a shawl, who was struggling to reach a can of soup on a high shelf, "let me help you with that?"

Vulcan grabbed it for her and, when she placed it in the old lady's cart, was very careful about being gentle-- for fear of squashing any bread or eggs.

Meeting people. It was what Vanessa did. As Vulcan, she wasn't any less amiable.

The old woman's hands were gnarled gracelessly with age and swollen around the knuckles. They made it difficult for her to get a very firm grip on anything that couldn't be either scooped or hooked or squished. Vanessa could not bear to watch the poor lady struggle with her groceries and, smiling, continued to help her as she finished up her own shopping.

John Jr grew taller everyday. So did his appetite. The stock in their fridge was paying the price.

At first, the elderly lady, who was named Mrs. Howard, was a bit wary of (and, because she was proud, a smidgeon offended by) Vulcan's zealous determination to assist. But the scrawny, bright-eyed teenager very obviously meant well, and Mrs. Howard could not help but warm to her.

And so they chatted and laughed, and Vanessa's heart swelled with joy the way it always did when she was doing something good.

It was not very long before they finished. Sailor Vulcan held the door open for Mrs. Howard with her foot, helped her pack up her old boat of a car, and then, arms loaded with groceries, started for home.

She strolled by the alley, head held high, and ignored the icy bite of the wind against her cheeks-- but was forced to a pause by a new feeling. It was unlike anything she'd ever known before, and sent a shiver of anticipation rocketing down her spine.

It felt dark. It also felt like power.

((It is okay <33 sorry it took me so long to respond!))

Sailor Vulcan was green. Sailor Vulcan was so green.

As Super Van she had (with Fallon's help) defeated a youma. As Super Van she had unintentionally endangered her friends and family, and gotten Hairy Pete killed. As Super Van she had struggled, and she had wept, and she had bled.

But it was not the same as this.

Vanessa was not prepared for Paragonite's attack and caught the baton around the ear. She gasped both from pain and shock, and stumbled backwards into the street. There were not many people out and about today. It was much too cold to be anywhere other than indoors.

"Hey!" she scowled at the lieutenant, and cupped a protective hand around her injured ear. The volume of her voice was muffled by the wind, but the steel of her spirit was not. "That wasn't very nice! What's the big idea?"

Vanessa did not know, exactly, what it was that she dealt with now, but she'd never run a way from a fight in her life. And she wasn't about to start now. Standing with her feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulder width apart, Vulcan put up her dukes and hopped around a little on the spot.

For everything that she didn't understand, Vanessa recognized a challenge when she saw one. Paragonite, it was clear to her, meant business.

Vanessa's first real introduction to the Negaverse had happened the night Hairy Pete was murdered. But she hadn't known then what it was that she dealt with, because nobody had thought it important to tell her. Aside from the information ********* had shared with her on the night of her awakening Sailor Vulcan still had a very general idea about her purpose in life.

Saving lives. Stopping bad guys. Finishing her homework and graduating high school.

These were the things that consumed most of Vanessa's time. She was absolutely content.

Blinking rapidly, adrenaline surging through her veins; Vulcan cried out when Paraogonite vaulted towards her. Acting on instinct, because instinct was all that she had, Vulcan crossed her wrists to shield her face from the brunt of Para's attack. The crimson of her vambraces, contrasting sharply with the snowy backdrop of Destiny City, glinted like fire in the sunlight. Vulcan grit her teeth, and glowered out at the malevolent Lieutenant from behind them.

"I didn't do anything to you," she protested, lip curling into a contemptible sneer, and stood her ground. Vulcan's knees did not tremble. Her heart beat with sound conviction.

The thick material of her winter jacket made movement difficult. As a result, Vulcan was slower than she would have been otherwise.

"What's your problem?"

When it came to getting into trouble, Vanessa had always been a master. If she wasn't grounded or being scolded by her father, Vanessa could generally be found not paying attention in class or almost getting herself killed. It didn't really matter where she was, because Vanessa was usually somebody's problem.

"I happen to like this outfit," she hissed back, golden eyes flashing, and took the opportunity to strip out of her jacket during Paragonite's menacing appraisal. The wind was cold where it bit at her freshly bared skin, but the increased freedom of movement was a blessing. "thank you very much."

Vanessa was there, when Nealite stole Hairy Pete's starseed. She hadn't known, then, what it was, but had been able to associate it's loss with his dying body. With the exception of that horrific memory, there was nothing in Vanessa's past to help her understand the depths of this lieutenant's violent threat.

She was floundering in her ignorance.

"Yeah, well, you won't be able to get it if I take yours fir-

Vulcan gasped and cried out when Paragonite's baton connected with the side of her leg. Ungraceful, she stumbled backwards, and teetered dangerously on the spot. Just when it looked like she was about to fall, something in the unpracticed Senshi's demeanour changed. If Paragonite looked closely enough, she might have been able to see the way Vulcan's resolve shifted. She stiffened, grit her teeth together, and then launched herself at the Lieutenant with a fierce battle cry.

"You fight cheap," she growled, and attempted to wrestle the baton out of Paragonite's hands.

Vanesa didn't want dirty. Her temper sometimes got away from her but, when she wasn't blinded by rage, Vanessa liked to play fair; a hit for a hit, 'three counts and you're out!' sort of deal.

Mr. Rae had taught her the importance of taking turns.

It was a heartbeat before Vulcan realized what Paragonite intended. Confused, she glanced at the hapless civilian who'd happened across their path, and then a spark of understanding glittered in those golden eyes. She inhaled sharply.

"No," Vulcan's voice was hard. Decisive. It was clear that she had made up her mind about something.

She looked Paragonite in the eye, and then held out the baton that she had stolen. There was no hesitation. "If you don't touch him, I'll let you have your weapon back. But fight me, and don't hurt anybody else."

If the odds had to be stacked against some one, Vanessa wanted it to be her. This was her responsibility, as a hero.

It did not occur to Vanessa, who had always trusted blindly, that Paragonite might go back on her word once they'd gone their separate ways. It would be no fight to the death, because Vulcan could never bring herself to kill this Lieutenant. She did, however, intend to win.

Sailor Vulcan assumed what she imagined to be a warrior's stance and, looking very silly with her feet set wide apart and her fists in the air, leered at the dark haired Lieutenant. A challenge glinted in her eyes, as well as in her soul.

She took a deep breath, waited only a moment longer, and then launched herself at Paragonite with a mighty war cry. Her fist was pulled back; aimed for the superior fighter's smug face.

Vulcan would never admit it, but she was pretty astonished when her hit actually landed. She stared at Paragonite for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, and the promptly faked self-assurance.

Of course she'd meant to do that.

She grinned, clearly proud of herself, and was about to deliver some sort of half-baked haughty remark when Paragonite growled. The guttural noise made Sailor Vulcan pause, and then there was no time move out of the way. The Lieutenant's baton thumped painfully against her ribs, and successfully knocked the breath out of the senshi's lungs.

Vulcan gasped and stumbled backwards.

Wheezing, knees shaking, she lost her balance and fell onto her a**; colliding ungracefully with a pile of trash on her way down.