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In the time that had passed since the basketball court, Maggie and JR had gone out. A lot. They saw a movie, got ice cream. Grabbed lunch. Rode bikes along the river. She hung out with some of his friends at a bar, even, (because she was a cool girl) which was especially amazing given her under-21 status. There was even a very romantic game of one on one at the basketball court at sunset. A coffee date, studying (mostly her studying, JR distracting).

So much time together, so much fun, and... so much freaking nothing else. SERIOUSLY, WHAT DID A GIRL HAVE TO DO? WEAR A SIGN? "I AM INTERESTED." I MEAN. REALLY. LIKE. FORREAL. It was SO obvious.

Maggie Lawrence had never been patient. It was not her virtue, or one she considered particularly important. But, sweet god, she had to be Mother Teresa incarnated or something after all this waiting. Romantic after romantic moment passed between the two of them, and there she would be, sun-kissed, smiling, and casually close, and... nothing. Well, not nothing. There would be a laugh, a tease, a joke. JR never gave off one shudder of discomfort or awkwardness. He was definitely not shy and would touch her plenty -- a playful grab at her waist, a light push on the shoulder, a big, joke-y bear hug.

Fear had begun to sink in: did JR just see her as... a friend?

That night, it was a Saturday and late, just a bit past 11:15. Her mom and stepdad had eased her normal curfew, if only because of JR. He had that affable quality to him, and they had known him since he was just a boy. Now, darkly, Maggie wondered if her parents sensed that she had been squarely friendzoned too and that was the only reason they eased their default strict nature.

The feeling sunk in as the door clicked shut behind her. They had stood on her stoop, talking, voices low, faces close and... nothing. As Maggie shrugged out of her coat and tiptoed upstairs, she was already giving herself a mental pep talk. JR was a great friend to have -- was that so bad, just being friends?

Her bedroom door shut with a whispered click, and Maggie kicked out of her wedges with a pout. Her vanity sat in the corner of the room, and she took a seat there, staring at herself in the mirror, her window across the room to her back.

"Pathetic," she said aloud.

A hand had just reached out to flip open her pack of makeup wipes when there was a tap at the glass of her bedroom window. Well, it sounded like a tapping. She jumped and whipped around, hand stabbing into her purse to clutch the henshin pen there. Did she hear... a voice? It was a windy night, the window was cracked, and several trees backed up against her room, occasionally leading to some horror movie tapping.

It was shadowy, and she couldn't quite make out who was at her window -- but it was definitely the shape of a person. Sure, this could be creepy, but... how romantic! It was like that movie, Romeo & Juliet, where Romeo is hanging out by Juliet's pool and climbs her hedge to flirt.

Sure, she listened to a lot of My Favorite Murder too, but on this night, the romantic in her beat out the detective. Crossing to the window, hand still fisted in her purse, she pushed it open and leaned out to meet eyes with what she assumed had to be her JR, who had clearly waited and waited for this magical moment so that he could perform a grand gesture. This was it. This was her fairytale story.

"Well, this is pretty classic of--" As her eyes adjusted, Maggie saw that the person in front of her was not JR at all, but a STRANGER. Her eyes narrowed, and she left out a muffled gasp, reflectively throwing her arms forward to shove the intruder backward. If she henshined up now, wouldn't this pervert know her identity?

Maggie was a second away from screaming when the intruder suddenly spoke her name -- oh, okay, so he was a STALKER? (she was a little flattered) -- and then said he was JR.

That he was JR.

That this was JR.

Oddly silent, especially for her, Maggie dragged her eyes from head to waist (the rest was hidden by the window) of his body. He was shirtless, mostly, with some weird strappy armor bits and -- holy s**t, this was a knight. Well, he didn't look quite impressive enough to be a Knight-knight, at least compared to everyone else Maggie had met so far.

The only way she could know would be to henshin up and feel the energy herself, but she wasn't that stupid. Was he? "You don't look like, JR," she said, hand still on the purse, intruder still at the window. "You look like an extra missing frm the 300 set." Okay, so she knew he wouldn't look like JR to her, if this was even true, but the girl was not at all prepared to take this at face value. If she even hinted she knew anything, her own identity would be toast.

Better to play it dumb to be smart. "Judging by that," she gestured to his uniform, "you are one of those gang people then, JR?" His name got some air quotes. "How about you prove it then, huh? If you really are JR, then... what gift did you give me on my 13th birthday? And and... what was the code word for the notes we passed in math class in 8th grade?" Even if this was some very grand trick of subterfuge, Maggie was counting on those two things being way too obscure for someone trying to trick her.

The stranger hadn't said, but it was true: he didn't get her anything for that birthday. The roller coaster and the vomit? All true. It itched at her, this great desire to believe and the fear that this was a trap. But there was something in him that, now that he said he was JR, felt like the sort of way her JR would talk.

With a skeptical inhale of air, Maggie pushed open the window and sort-of tugged him into her room. "Okay, okay -- I did swear you all to secrecy about the shoe pukage." She took a step back to look at him when he entered at last, the insignia, the style. Well, if he was going to take that next big step... well, then. Maybe so could she. "So, from Mars, is it?" she said. "That whole 300 look."

The purse fell from her hand, but the pen was there, clasped in her fist. She gave him a wry look and then went into a twirl, full-on CGI montage moment of exploding ribbons and magical glitter or whatever and bam -- there she stood, Sailor Auriga, Super Senshi of Pestilence. She may or may not have even struck a pose, a peace sign pressed against her cheek.



"Tada~" she said, tugging loose the wraps around her lips so her face was fully exposed. In the back of her mind, she knew this may not be wise. Anyone strolling by could pick up on two energy signatures, but they'd have to check every house to figure it out, to find them precisely. Even now, Auriga could feel the presence of others -- no telling exactly how close they may be. It was a weird benefit of DC: there were always so many auras.

Elation piqued inside her chest -- of course, JR was special too! -- but Auriga wiped the grin off her face and placed a gloved hand on her hip instead. "JR, are you for serious?" Her voice took a scolding edge. "I mean, how did you know I was safe to, like, reveal to? What if I was a Nega, or a Dark Mirror, or even corrupted? I could have killed you!" She gave him a little shove. It was annoyed, but also definitely flirtatious.

His self-assured nature was not stronger, but somehow felt so. Perhaps it was the bare-chestedness? Who could say. "You flatter yourself so well, why should I try?" she said, with a loose laugh. Her heart was beating harder than she'd like. It was the adrenaline of revealing this most precious part of her. There were very few senshi who she had made the choice to be this open with, and even less knights. But this was JR. Of course neither of them could be Chaotic!

(Of course, they could be force corrupted, but, hey, that didn't jive with the romantic fate she was writing in her mind.)

Auriga grinned at he tapped at the chains and bits of accoutrements. There were so many other senshi with much prettier outfits than hers -- and, okay, she was legit jealous of a LOT of them -- but she had come to love it. It felt unique! Even if her sphere was gross. "Well, my fuku isn't subtle, that's for sure, but it definitely isn't armor. The rib cage has saved me a few times, but it has also cracked and legit stabbed into me so... pros and cons. I'm made for glitter and sparkles and magical goodness or whatever, not straight up taking hits. But, hey, look at yours -- about as subtle as a kick to the face, eh, Syrtis." She poked his bare chest and giggled to herself as his name. "Syrtis. I'll have to get used to that." She gave him a long, lingering look and then jumped, as if suddenly remembering something.

"I'm Sailor Auriga -- want to guess what my sphere is? Or..." She whispered something, and her mouth and hands began to glow a seeping green. With a laugh, she dissipated it -- definitely didn't want to accidentally magic her boyfri-- er, friend. Er. Well, whatever it was they were to each other.

Feeling Syrtis' eyes roaming over her was exhilarating. She had wanted this degree of attention from him for a long time. This wasn't like her closet full of fleeting crushes -- Syrtis was her friend, a part of her life with or without the fantasy of a romance. And this romance, though certainly part fantasy as they were, was more real than anything she had felt up until this point. She was a young girl again, back in that closet with him, pretending to be cool but feeling her heart in her throat the first time they kissed.

Are you the senshi of... scarabs?

"Hm... warm," she said wryly.

Maybe the senshi of chains?

She shook her head, brown waves rolling. "Colder." Still, she allowed herself to be pulled closer to him. This action in battle was terrifying. But this was safe, safer than she had been in a long time.

The energy in the room was shifting, and nervous prickles of energy crept up Auriga's empowered spine. "Hm... warmish?" At first, she had hated her sphere, the grossness of it. She'd bitten into plenty of gross things to truly curse the name of her asteroid, but... she was still a superhero, y'know? At the end of the day, Auriga was only grateful. She KNEW she was special. The magic outfit had only confirmed it, duh.

Ohgodhewastouchingher.

The strand of hair slipped behind her ear, and her eyes glanced downward, almost demurely, before lifting back to focus on him with a kind of intensity that she didn't often experience.

When Syrtis leaned in, she allowed herself the slightest intake of breath. Auriga was a girl of crushes, endless, ephemeral crushes. But this thing with Syrtis? It was long in development, and so was she. With a soft smile, she closed the remaining distance, kissing him like they once had in a closet on a dare so many years ago. Her hips coasted gently into his, and she forgot how dangerous and reckless this was. For that moment, it was only the two of them, locked like this, more human than super.

Slowly, she eased back with a soft laugh and then said: "Pestilence. That's what I have domain over -- pestilence."

Auriga was suppressing a million nervous giggles. She presented herself so often as self-assured and worldly, which was only half-true. But in front of JR -- no, Syrtis -- she felt more girlish than she had in a long while. He was a alluring in his basketball uniform, but here in this Mars ensemble? Irresistible. He deepest secret was actually something she could share with the person she most wanted to -- how many girls got to feel this way?

When he did not relinquish her chains, she smiled, warm and full of nervous anticipation. She wanted the endless kisses too. But her voice filled the space instead: "Honestly? It makes people puke. Get dizzy. Like the worst stomach flu swings in full force at you. It's... gross. But effective, most of the time."

She leaned in to kiss him and then paused. "Sorry, is that the least sexy thing ever? Maybe it would be better if I was senshi of hugs or something..." Sexier, sure, but less powerful. What she was... it wasn't perfect. But it was powerful. And that filled her with great purpose, almost as great as the need she felt to melt into this Mars soldier at this very instant.