*REPOSTER'S NOTE*

Right, let's get the important stuff out of the way first: I DID NOT WRITE THIS FANFIC. Sailor Moon: Millennials was originally written by The High Judge, an author who I hold in very high esteem, and who mysteriously vanished from the online community several years ago. When the webpage that originally hosted Millennials went down, it effectively vanished from the internet because the Judge never hosted it on other sites like FF or Mediaminer. In the interest of preserving this old classic and getting it some much-needed exposure, I've decided to repost it here with as much of the original formatting intact as I can manage, though some things will probably have been lost either by virtue of my text-only source files or the formatting limitations imposed by the local formatting system. I do not have the author's permission to do this, but if the Judge miraculously reappears and tells me to stop posting his work, I will gladly remove everything of his that I've posted.

Oh, and Sailor Moon and all related characters are the property of Naoko Takeuchi and whoever currently owns the rights to the anime. Don't bother suing, I haven't got a dollar to my name.

With that said, enjoy!

*MILLENNIALS*

Senshi Pluto stepped forward from the swirling mists, her face cool and dispassionate. The looming mass of the Time Gate stood solidly atop the nothingness behind her, as it always had, did, and would do, while the featureless mists drifted—as they always had, did, and would do—about the Gate and its keeper, the only solid features in this grey eternity—as they almost always had been, were, and would continue to be.

Almost always.

But not quite.

"I call the Court," Pluto said in a loud, clear voice, striking the butt of her staff three times against the featurelessness beneath her. There was nothing there for her to stand on, let alone to strike, and yet, at the same time, _everything_ was there. Three solid strikes sent their echoes rolling into the mists, and as the greyness shifted, it changed. Where there had been nothing, there was now something. More precisely, it was the beginning of something.

"I call Order," Pluto said, and a tall podium appeared to her left. Five feet high, five feet wide, seemingly carved from featureless grey stone, the podium was a sudden burst of reality in this otherwise unreal place. It was occupied by a single figure in grey, hooded robes. Every line of those robes was crisp and clearly visible, every patch of light and shadow clearly marked, and a blank face, carved of the same grey stone as the podium, looked out from the hood. There were no features in that face except two iron-grey eyes: unblinking, stern, and radiating authority. The face turned to nod at Pluto, its gaze neither friendly nor hostile.

"I call Chaos," Pluto said, and a second podium appeared next to the first. This stand, at once sharing and defying the dimensions of its neighbor, seemed to drink in the shifting mists all around, but also to be the source of those same whips of fog. It was every color at once, and none at all. It was square, sphere, pyramid, and prism, it was there and it was not there. The occupant was equally strange. First it was a shapeless mass of shadows, then a precise imitation of the rigid figure to its right. Then the grey robes exploded in a riot of color, and in the space of a heartbeat, the face shifted through a profile of a thousand separate visages. Male, female, neuter, human, animal, alien. Three eyes that danced with mad glee became fifty as the head became a hand and nodded—or waved—at Pluto, continuing the unpredictable metamorphosis.

"I call Evil," Pluto said next, and a night-black podium took its place beyond the one occupied—or not—by Chaos. Here, podium and occupant seemed to be one, a single jagged shadow which drank in the mists and returned nothing, a hole in the unreality of eternity. Even at this distance, Pluto could feel waves of cold terror, malice, and a hundred other dark emotions, all of them pulling at her physically and mentally. Only long experience allowed Pluto to ignore the whispers dancing through her mind, but even she felt a shiver of—what? Pain? Pleasure? Fear? Desire?—as the two blood-red eyes of that shadow locked with her own. She shook off the momentary sensation and went on.

"I call Good," Pluto said, causing a fourth podium to take form. Next to the shadowy presence of Evil, the white marble was a sun against midnight, the quiet but unyielding candle amidst shadows. Looking up from the comforting glow of the stand, knowing that the gentle gaze of Good would reassure her after her momentary brush with the eyes of Evil, Pluto gasped in astonishment when she realized that the podium was unoccupied. For a moment, her self-control evaporated. "What..." she blurted.

"Continue," the flat, emotionless voice of Order demanded.

"COntinUe," the myriad, shifting voices of Chaos suggested. "Or NOt."

-Continue- the eerie, silken voice of Evil whispered.

"I call..." Pluto began unsteadily, then shook her head and tried to get a firm grip on her will. "I call Life," she said, her voice clear and calm once more. The fifth podium was rich brown wood, not carved so much as grown into the desired shape, the base seeming to take root in the blankness beneath as would a tree. Delicate vines of ivy wrapped about the pedestal, budding and blossoming in the space of a few moments until a tiny garden had taken shape along the surface of the box. The figure within wore a robe fashioned from the flowing lengths of its own hair, radiant green tresses inset with tiny flowers. The face and figure were more female than anything else, though Pluto had to wonder if she was seeing what she wanted to see rather than the actual form—assuming Life or any of the others even had a true form. Golden eyes shone brightly as Life nodded to Pluto.

"Continue," Life said in a melody of animal voices. As always, Pluto thought she heard a lion's growl of faint disapproval amidst the birdsong and other calls; Life had never been completely happy about her existence here, cut off from the flow of time and the path of life that should have been hers. As always, there was the faintest suggestion that Pluto could go back and pick up her life once more, to find the home, love, and family denied her by her duty. As always, Pluto allowed herself the briefest moment of regretful speculation before going on.

"I call Death," Pluto said, and her fingers tightened uneasily around her staff as the last and most distant of the six seats warped into existence. The podium was fashioned from hundreds of unidentifiable bones, bones which might have come from kings or commoners, man or beast, and which had all been brought low by the force they now supported. Atop the grim jigsaw sat a wiry figure in tattered robes of dull brown. A pair of bony hands rested folded atop the podium, but neither face nor eyes could be seen beneath the frayed rim of the hood. That emptiness turned to add its own silent greeting, and Pluto kept her eyes lowered until the unsettling presence had moved on. There was no malice in the gaze of Death, only the single grim truth it offered to everyone—and, in a strange way, more compassion than either Good or Life could offer—but not even the Guardian of Time could meet that immaterial gaze for long.

Not waiting for words—for Death seldom spoke—Pluto proceeded. "I call the Past, the Present, the Future." A larger podium appeared to Pluto's right, the same length as the six it sat across from. This box appeared to be formed from the flowing mists, and within sat three figures wearing robes of the same immaterial material. Again, the Guardian of Time suspected that her mortal mind was trying to make sense of the true nature of these forces by giving them forms she could comprehend, for each aspect of Time wore a face strikingly similar to her own.

"Continue," Past said. Its face was that of a young Pluto, but it spoke with the voice of an old woman who remembers days gone by.

"Continue," Present said. Its face and voice were eerily identical to Pluto's.

"Continue," Future giggled. Its face was old, Pluto as she might be should she leave this timeless eternity and age half a century, but it spoke in the voice of a child with her entire life yet to come.

"I call Balance," Pluto said. Opposite from her, another podium appeared. Ten feet to a side and just as tall, it was strangely neutral in shape and color, having some of the properties of each of the six gathered forces. The figure seated here wore judicial robes somewhat similar to those of Order, except that they flowed and moved with Chaotic patterns. Its face was half Life and half Death, half the creeping shadow of Evil and half the absent face of Good. It, too, nodded to Pluto.

"Continue," Balance said in a surprisingly normal voice. "All will be explained. In time," it added, lips quirked in a slightly Chaotic grin.

"I call the Court," Pluto repeated, once again striking her staff against the mists.

"The Court is called," Order said firmly.

"tHE HoRSEraDIsh couRt Is CAllEd stEaMLiner," Chaos giggled.

-The Court is called- Evil whispered. Pluto shivered at the absence between Evil and Life, at the words left unsaid. What was going on?

"The Court is called," Life sang. Beside Life, Death remained silent, the slow nod of its unseen head all the reply necessary.

"The Court is called," the three voices of Time said in unison.

"The Court is called," Balance said, completing the ritual. "Before we proceed, I believe some answers are necessary," it said, looking apologetically at Pluto. "Are there any objections?"

"It is a disruption of the proceedings," Order said disapprovingly. "But the absence of Good is also a disruption, which must be addressed. I therefore have no objection."

"a CHAngE MigHT be nIce," Chaos agreed. "THen AGaiN, it miGHT nOt."

"Do you object or not?" Balance said flatly. Chaos considered it for all of two seconds, probably a record for its ever-shifting awareness.

"mOnKEY NoT at THis apRICot TIMe. We MAY snOWflAkE laTEr."

-I object- Evil said. Pluto had rather suspected it would; with Good absent, Evil was unbalanced, a situation it would have found ideal. Anything which might threaten its current advantage would be opposed.

"Your objection is noted," Balance said in a dry voice.

"I do not object," Life said.

Death again remained silent.

"We do not object," Present said after a moment of discussion.

"So be it," Balance said. "Four unopposed, one objection, one absent, and one abstention. The motion is carried." Balance sighed and thought for a moment. "Some time ago, there was an imbalance on the mortal plane. Though it was eventually corrected, the nature of the imbalance was sufficient to threaten a massive disruption of the forces even after it had been repaired."

"I don't understand."

"we DO Red JELly," Chaos hissed. "SoMEtimeS. WE weRE rATher intimAtelY InVOlveD wIth the ALaRM clOCk PRoblem, afTer aLL." Pluto considered its statement, and one word came to mind.

"Galaxia."

"Correct," Balance said. "From your own experience, you know that Senshi Galaxia was able to entrap a sizable portion of Chaos-force for an extended period of time. Her actions destabilized the balance between Chaos and Order, and in so doing, affected the rest of the Court as well."

"WE diD NoT paRTIculArlY enjoy tHE exPeriEnce," Chaos said, for once not even trying to contradict itself.

"Not many did," Balance said, sighing. "Unpleasant at it was at the time, Galaxia's timing of the affair is the real problem."

"Excuse me?" Pluto asked.

"We meet each century to review the conflicts of the Past, to assess the state of the Present, and to plan the challenges of the Future," Order said. "So it has been, so it is now, and so it will be."

"Galaxia's imprisonment of Chaos-force altered the balance near the end of this century," Balance explained. "Ordinarily, we would solve the issue by assigning the next century primarily to Chaos, to counter its recent weakness. Unfortunately, this is not merely the end of a century, but of a millennium as well."

"I still don't understand," Pluto said.

"Don't you? You exist outside of Time in this place, Pluto, but you were born over two thousand years ago. From here," Balance went on, indicating the foggy nether-realm with a wave of its hand,"you have witnessed the past and looked into the future. Consider each age you have watched and tell me this; what do you see?"

Pluto considered the question carefully. Three thousand years and more coiled around in her mind, memories of things long past, memories of things yet to be. As she looked through the centuries, something that might have been the answer took shape.

"Currents," she said finally. "The flow of events in each century follow a general path, whether for Order or Chaos, Good or Evil, Life or Death. The actions of humanity in response to those currents can change the course of events, but the flow remains. And each century is but a branch from the flow of its millennium."

"A flow which we determine," Balance finished for her,"based on that which was, that which is, and that which is yet to be. Now do you see the problem?"

"Yes," Pluto said. She briefly entertained the thought of stepping back into the time stream and knocking Galaxia one across the back of the head for what her idiocy had caused. "Is this why Good is absent?"

"Partially, but not entirely. Although the imbalance caused by the imprisonment of Chaos was an undeniable act of Evil, Evil itself has suffered a number of defeats in the last few years. By themselves, these losses were evenly matched by Evil's prior victories, but the restoration of Chaos—being an act of Good—tipped the balance again. Countering it would have required a ruling in Evil's favor, in addition to a ruling for Chaos in the next millennium."

"Ten centuries allotted to Chaos and Evil is not a pleasant thought," Life said grimly. "Good volunteered its absence in these proceedings to prevent such a ruling; by weakening its own presence and that of Order, Good has negated most of the recent imbalances against Evil and Chaos."

-But not all-

"No, not all," Balance admitted, sparing a hard glance at the red-eyed void of Evil. "And you would do well not to push the issue any further. I am still not entirely convinced that Galaxia's plan was of her own devising."

-Irrelevant. I whisper to all in the night, in the silence of their souls. I cannot force them to act in my interests; they must choose to do so- The angry sound of a growling wolf issued from Life as Evil finished its hissing recital.

"Enough," Balance said grimly, looking back to Pluto. "Because the imbalances were created by the actions of mortals, they must be redressed in the mortal world. Only then will we be able to properly conduct our deliberations. Do you understand?"

"I do," Pluto replied, echoing Balance's earlier sighs with one of her own. "What happens now?"

"The Court must proceed," Order stated.

"eVentS MiGhT be reVIEwed, PLanneD. KIck DirT voDkA."

-New tests have been devised and set in motion- Evil seemed to savor its words.

"There is much to be done," Life hummed.

Death remained silent.

"The Past will be reviewed," the first of the three not-Plutos said, vanishing in a ripple of mist.

"The Present will be studied," the second not-Pluto replied, phasing out.

"The Future will be planned," the last finished. As Future faded, so too did the rest of the Court, each of them vanishing in a different manner. Order's material form, deprived of the iron will of its guiding awareness, dissolved back into the mists, while next to it, Chaos chose to leave in a flash and bang of—falling sweatsocks? Evil's shadow slid into itself and disappeared, while the empty podium of Good seemed to gutter and fade like a blown-out candle. Life's avatar went through a reversal of the growth that had created it in the first place, podium and occupant alike shrinking into youth before sinking into the mists and fading entirely. Death was simply there one second and gone the next, leaving Pluto alone with Balance.

"It's about time," a new voice said impatiently. Pluto turned to see a most unwelcome and disturbing sight. From the neck down, the new arrival was ordinary enough: a fairly normal body wearing a slightly less-ornate version of the robes the vanished incarnations of the forces had, this one a dull shade of red, trimmed with black. Above the neck, however, the figure took an abrupt turn from normal to unnatural. One side of its face, the right, was that of a handsome man in his early twenties, with dark blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a flashing smile. On the left side, the face was suddenly female. No makeup, no clear line between halves, just a blurred middle ground between two undeniably different sides.

"Janus," Pluto said flatly.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" The figure's voice was softer now, its lips pouting and its eyes wide with mock hurt. "Alive, unharmed, and free from an endless existence of nothing? Oh, wait," it went on, voice deepening and features changing,"that's right. You were the one who put me there in the first place."

"How did you get free?" At this, Janus laughed and walked past Pluto.

"My dear daughter of time, of all people, YOU should know that there is no such thing as 'forever.' To all things, there is a beginning and an end, and an existence therein." Now standing between Pluto and Balance, Janus turned, the male eye gleaming darkly. "This is my time, now, despite your interfering efforts to the contrary. My freedom was inevitable, just as I told you. Do you remember? Do you remember what else I said?"

"I do," Pluto admitted, taking a tighter hold on her weapon. "And I can see that an eternity in infinity hasn't done anything to improve you." She looked past the divided features to Balance. "What is the meaning of this? Why has _that_ been set loose again?"

"The Balance must be preserved," Balance said simply. "Regardless of the cost. The tests have been revised and approved. The trials will commence," it said, lifting a gavel. Balance, Pluto noticed with a chill, was looking at her apologetically, even sadly. Janus, on the other hand, seemed triumphant.

"What tests?" Pluto asked, as the gavel came down. "What trials?"

"...NOW," Balance said in a thunderous voice. As the echo of the gavel striking home reached her, Pluto felt a very strange sensation...

*MILLENNIALS*

The last night of 1999 was winding to a close. All across the world, people went home early to prepare for New Year's Eve parties—or the end of the world, depending on which side of the millennium question they happened to follow. In Tokyo, the five Senshi had watched the buildup to the new millennium with a mix of excitement and exasperation. They knew from their own experiences that, although the world had been in real danger of annihilation in recent years, it was going to be around for quite a while yet, due in no small part to their efforts. It was nice to know that all their hard work had paid off, and that people would have real reason to celebrate—even if nobody else was actually aware of what those reasons were.

But still, it would have been nice if somebody had thought to dedicate even _one_ of these parties to _them._ As Ami had pointed out, though, they really still had another year before the millennium was truly over. Somebody might wise up over the next twelve months—and in the meantime, they could kick back and enjoy the well-nigh global celebration.

"After all," Ami said,"I think we've earned a little peace, don't you?" Her friends had to agree with that. Epic battles between good and evil aside, the last few years had been busy for all them. Not that saving the world wasn't an important and stress-filled part of life, but just growing up was every bit as important—if in a more personal way—and it could be every bit as insane. The last half of this year, in particular, had been crazier than usual.

But that, as Rei said, was all Usagi's fault.

Mamoru had returned to the States at the end of summer to continue his studies, and the Senshi had watched as, without him, Usagi had wandered through a fog of worry, loneliness, suspicion, and simply moping around. Given the track record of their seemingly disaster-plagued relationship and the number of times Mamoru had wound up amnesiac, distant, or just plain dead, worrying was the most normal thing in the world for Usagi to do. Usually, she would have morbidly entertained herself with fits of crying and a splurge of chocolate and ice cream, after which she would remind herself about ten thousand times that this whole relationship was preordained, and then get better. It usually took about a week or two for the whole thing to work its way through her system, three at the outside, so the girls had sat back and waited. Nearly a month after Mamoru's departure, Usagi was still uncharacteristically moody. Just as her friends were starting to really worry, she perked up quite literally overnight and was suddenly back to normal. _Too_ normal, in fact. For almost two weeks, the Senshi had the distinct impression that their leader was laughing at them about something, a private joke that they had all somehow missed.

Even with all these early warning signals, the announcement in early October that Usagi was pregnant had been seriously unanticipated.

Without actually explaining why, Usagi had wheedled her father into letting her host a weekend dinner party with a semi-formal dress code and a fairly extensive guest list. The four Senshi had been invited, naturally, as had Naru, her mother, and Umino, but Usagi had also extended invitations to Minako's parents, Ami's mother and—despite some protests from Ami—Urawa, Rei's grandfather and Yuuichirou, Motoki and Reika, and even Haruna. When pressed about the matter, Usagi had replied that it had just occurred to her that half of the important people in her life had never met the other half—or, if they had, _she_ hadn't met the important people in _their_ lives—and she felt it was time to change that. With his wife in support of the idea, Kenji had little choice but to agree.

The party had started with the simultaneous arrival of the Aino family, Umino, and the Osakas. When Minako, glittering in a golden gown, the freshly- combed Artemis in one arm, had introduced her parents in a too-polite tone of voice, Usagi remembered that Minako and her mother did not get along very well, and usually went to considerable lengths to avoid one another. Fortunately, the number of guests proved enough to keep them at a safe distance for much of the evening.

Haruna had shown up next, and then the Mizunos, mother and daughter alike wearing nearly identical dresses in pale blue. Ryo had trailed a short distance behind, slipping quietly in the door and confessing to Usagi that meeting Ami's mother was not high on his to-do list. Ami had apparently agreed with him about that, as the two spoke to one other only slightly more than Minako and her mother. One does not get to be a doctor by being stupid, however; Usagi noticed at one point that Ryo, looking rather like a man before a firing squad, had been cornered by Mizuno-san, whose face said she was considering him with the same clinical attitude as she might consider the illness of a patient. Afterwards, though, Usagi had seen Ryo and Ami talking together quietly, neither of them noticing Mrs. Mizuno as she watched them from across the room with a faintly satisfied smile. Mizuno-san noticed Usagi noticing, winked, and raised her glass in a one-sided toast.

Rei, resplendent in a fiery red dress, was the next to arrive, her grandfather—as ever, wearing that same, slightly battered old robe—and Yuuichirou in tow. She had bullied her grandfather into a semblance of good behavior with the evening's promise of food, but still spent a great deal of time with one or both eyes on the old man. Those eyes spent most of the rest of the evening keeping a close watch over Yuuichirou, who, in a decent suit and with his hair combed out of his eyes for the first time Usagi could remember, was getting along with Haruna a little too well for Rei's taste.

Motoki and Reika arrived not long after that, but it was nearly another half an hour before Makoto finally showed up. When Usagi answered the door, she was not surprised to see her friend in a close-fitting gown of deep green, but neither had she expected the look of hurt. The fact that Makoto arrived by herself drove the point home and explained her lonely expression better than words. Minako might dislike her mother, Ami's mother might never be home, and Rei's grandfather might embarrass her, but at least they were there. Makoto was not so lucky, and being around the families of her friends would only remind her of her own loss.

Usagi stepped outside and embraced Makoto, apologizing for her mistake. Then, after looking around to make sure no one was listening, she whispered a quick explanation. After a moment of surprise, Makoto's face had gone from pained to overjoyed in a flash, and her enthusiastic return hug had been only a little short of bone-crushing. Once she had calmed down and wiped her tears away, Makoto's face settled into her normal cheerful smile so as not to spoil the surprise for the others. The smile grew a little less forced when she saw Motoki and Reika.

Aside from her slip-ups with Minako and Makoto, Usagi had been the perfect hostess that evening. Wearing a modest white gown that absolutely screamed 'Moon Princess knock-off' to the Senshi, she was charming and witty, on-hand to introduce everyone, make sure there were enough seats, keep the various conversations going smoothly, and generally announce to the world that she had an ulterior motive. Nobody could figure out exactly what it might be; Makoto kept quiet on the matter, and Ryo, despite several pointed inquiries from Ami and the others, denied any prescient knowledge of the matter. He was lying, of course, but after weighing what the three Senshi _might_ do to him to get some answers against what he knew Usagi _would_ do if he spoiled the surprise, Ryo chose the path of least pain.

Usagi had waited until after dinner to drop the bomb on everyone, and the results were suitably explosive. Makoto and Ryo, having been forewarned, took the opportunity to enjoy the varied expressions of surprise, but they were both somewhat curious to note that Ikuko was as serene as her daughter. Usagi later admitted that her mother had been the first to know, almost two weeks in advance of everyone else, and that the party had actually been her idea.

Everyone other than Ikuko, Makoto, and Ryo had been stunned into several moments of utter silence, while Usagi endured the combined stares with no outer reaction beyond a demure smile. Haruna, Naru, and Umino, who had known Usagi the longest out of any of the guests, seemed the most surprised. Then Rei, Minako, and Ami had let out a unified"WHAT?", which had opened the gate for everyone else to start talking.

Everyone—with two exceptions. Usagi's father and Luna had both sort of keeled over sideways at the news. It had taken three attempts to get Kenji back on his feet, and the first two tries had been neatly foiled as soon as he heard the news again. Rei's grandfather had finally solved the problem by producing a small bottle from somewhere in his robes and pouring some of the contents into Kenji. Whatever the stuff had been, it had done the trick.

After that, the rest of the evening had been swallowed up in congratulations, questions, answers—though not as many as some people would have liked, and far too many for others' peace of mind—and, for the Senshi, who alone among the others really knew what—or more specifically, _who_—this announcement meant, a lot of ridiculously happy hugs. Kenji spent most of his time alternating between standing around in a daze and maniacally giggling to himself as he planned what he was going to do when he got his hands on Mamoru.

Ikuko spoke with Rei's grandfather at that point, and by the time the two men had finished the contents of the little brown bottle, Kenji was much more mellow. He was profoundly hungover when he woke up in the morning—well, early afternoon, to be entirely precise—and Ikuko used that advantage and every other weapon in her arsenal to extract a promise of some sort from him. When Usagi got home that afternoon, her mother had informed her that Kenji had sworn off any sort of vengeance against her fiancee. Usagi was very happy to hear that, although the fact that her _mother_ had made no such promise still bothered her.

Usagi's afternoon return had followed a meeting of all five Senshi and their two guardians at Hikawa. They already had the answers to the more mundane questions; now they needed answers to some slightly more unusual ones.

First and foremost was whether or not Usagi could transform into Sailor Moon if she were needed, and, if she could, what effect it might have on the unborn ChibiUsa. Luna and Artemis both admitted to uncertainty on that part. They were both reasonably sure that the transformation itself wouldn't cause any harm, but the effects of fighting and use of Sailor Moon's powers would certainly tire Usagi out, which could lead to serious problems. It went without saying that any use of the ginzuishou was to be even more strictly last-resort than usual.

The next question was the ginzuishou itself, and how _it_ would react to the pregnancy. In all the history of the Moon Kingdom, no daughter of the royal line had ever been so closely linked to the stone and its power. Not even Queen Serenity had been so fully intertwined with the ginzuishou as her daughter now was, and if the source of the crystal's power truly was the love of its wielder, what effect would the intensified love of a mother for her growing child have? How would close proximity to the stone's energy, should it suddenly grow or be altered, affect mother and child—or anyone else, for that matter?

Ami had put forth a particularly disturbing question: what might the ginzuishou's own peculiar awareness do to protect Usagi and her baby if they were to suddenly be threatened? Luna and Artemis had no idea, but given the sheer power of the thing and the rather extreme nature of its solutions to that sort of problem, nobody was eager to run the risk of finding out.

The solution to most of their potential problems was to keep Usagi under as constant a guard as they could manage, and to get her as far away from trouble as possible, should it materialize. Minako suggested calling Michiru, Haruka, and Hotaru—first to tell them the good news, and then to get them back to Tokyo as soon as possible so that they could aid in keeping watch on Usagi— but Usagi put her foot down. They had seen neither armored hide nor razor-sharp hair of a monster since defeating Galaxia, and there was no point in uprooting the Outer Senshi from their own day-to-day lives without cause. _If_ that cause ever appeared, Usagi promised to be the first one to make that call, but until then, everyone was to forget the idea.

The discussion of calling people brought up another point: when was Usagi going to tell Mamoru?

"Don't tell him," Ami had said quite suddenly, surprising the others.

"Why in the world not?" Rei had asked.

"Ryo-kun mentioned this to me last night," Ami explained. "Nothing bad will happen whether you tell Mamoru or not, but Ryo-kun sort of implied that you might want to wait until he actually comes home for a visit."

"Implied how?"

"Well, he walked out onto the balcony, looked up at the stars, and said that the expressions on our faces when you told _us_ were nothing compared to what Mamoru's going to look like when you tell _him._ He thought you might enjoy seeing that."

"Thanks," Usagi said, grinning. "I think I will."

"Ami-chan," Minako had asked then,"where exactly did Ryo-kun tell you this? We were downstairs last night, and Usagi's house doesn't have any balconies on the ground floor."

"This was after the party," Ami replied. "Mother was called to the hospital, so Ryo-kun walked me home, and..." She had suddenly stopped talking and blushed.

"And?" Makoto and Minako demanded together. "You invited him in?"

"No!" Ami said immediately, knowing exactly what they were thinking. "I mean, yes... I mean... we just talked," she finished lamely, face a fiery red.

Makoto and Minako groaned in unison, knowing that this was nothing more and nothing less than the truth.

The weeks afterwards had stretched into months, and things went more or less as they were supposed to. News of Usagi's condition raced around the school in no time, sparking the inevitable rumors and crude jokes, but none of those ever reached her ears. Umino's invisible network of informants allowed him to locate the sources for every last one of the ugly tales, and once that information was passed on to Makoto, the rumors dried up in short order. At least one Senshi was with Usagi at all times during daylight hours, and she had the faint suspicion that her friends were taking turns watching her at night. It got to the point where Usagi would have welcomed a monster attack, just to get a few minutes alone. But the department of supernatural menaces remained uncooperative, and no creatures appeared to distract the Senshi from their mission.

As far as their concerns about the ginzuishou went, there seemed to be nothing to worry about. Usagi had not noticed any particular change in the stone's usual soft glow, and Ami's repeated computer scans had not revealed any change in its energy field. Sometimes at night, though, Usagi would half-awaken and hear a strange, musical sound in her room, a sound that blended sighing wind chimes and softly ringing bells. The sound had the same haunting familiarity as the music of her star locket, a not-quite memory from a place and a time long ago, but it was even more vague. Despite her inability to remember where and when she had heard it, the music was soothing, and Usagi always drifted back into sleep with a feeling of safety.

Now it was New Year's Eve, and the Senshi had gathered at Ami's for a little celebration of their own.

*MILLENNIALS*

In truth, this was something of a housewarming party as well as a New YearÆs celebration. AmiÆs grandparents had decided to celebrate their forty- fifth wedding anniversary with an extended trip around the world, and Ami and her mother would be house-sitting for them for the next several months.

The Mizuno home was a comfortably mid-sized residence with a great deal of family history tucked away within its walls. Ami had spent many hours here as a child, either just for visits or when her grandmother was looking after her while her mother was at work, and she couldnÆt deny that she felt more comfortable here than she did in the apartment. The reason was that she and her mother had been in and out of their residence so often over the years that it had never become much more than the place where they stopped to sleep; it lacked that lived-in feel that Ami always noticed in her friendsÆ homes, even MakotoÆs apartment. In her grandparentsÆ house, though, Ami felt... at home.

"Close the door!" Rei shouted.

Which was one reason why sheÆd taken the precaution of hiding some of the more fragile pieces of family history before her friends came over tonight.

"But it's such a beautiful night," Usagi said, looking up at the winter sky. She was standing halfway in, halfway out of a sliding door that led to a balcony on the second floor of the house. Outside, the stars glimmered brightly around the shrinking sliver that was the moon; their winking light and the illumination from the city's countless windows and streetlights reflected off the snow and made it nearly as bright as day.

Caught by the beauty of the night, Usagi failed to notice that while it might be almost as bright as day outside, moonlight and starlight were, as sources of heat, not nearly as good as sunlight.

"It's sixteen below, odango-atama!" Rei shouted out between chattering teeth, yanking her inside before slamming the glass door shut practically in her friend's face. "Are you _trying_ to give yourself pneumonia? And what about the rest of us?"

"Calm down," Makoto told her, trying—and failing—to suppress a shiver.

"Yeah," Minako added,"spill out." Everyone blinked at the mangled expression.

"I think that's supposed to be 'chill' out," Ami corrected her, not even looking up from the book that rested in her lap.

"Oh. Well, chill out, then."

"Like I'm not cold enough already?" Rei muttered, rubbing her hands along her arms in an overacted bid to restore warmth. She let the matter drop, but made a point of sitting as far from Usagi and the door as she could, wrapped to the chin in a blanket. Usagi, leaning against the glass despite its chill, ignored Rei and continued to look up at the fading moon. She sighed once, a familiar enough sound to the others, and toyed with the ring she wore as her hands rested on her enlarged waistline.

"So," Minako asked Usagi, shifting around on the couch she shared with Makoto and the two curled-up cats so as to face their moonstruck leader,"what was his excuse this time?"

"Studies," Usagi replied flatly. In her mind's eye, she could see the letter that had arrived only the previous day. She had read and reread it several times, and though her memory was not usually the greatest, she recited it back to her friends in a manner even Ami would have been proud of:

Usako,

I'm not going to be able to make it back to you during the winter break. I know it's unfair of me not to have told you a few months ago—the way the postal service is, I wouldn't be surprised if it's already New Year's by the time this letter arrives, so you'll probably be ready to hang me out for the crows—but things have been really busy here, and I wasn't sure until a little while ago how it would all end up going.

Do you remember that intern program I told you about last time? Well, my preliminary application was accepted, but if I'm going to attend, there are three courses in my next term that I absolutely have to know inside and out. If I use the winter break to study, I know I'll get the marks I need to join the program in Tokyo—and a few weeks lost now and during the spring break mean I'll be back with you for all of the next two years, instead of having to keep coming back here.

Unfortunately, all this means that I won't see you again until summer. It's rough, and I deserve every word you care to fling at me, but if it makes you feel better, I promise to be completely miserable from now until the next time I see you.

I miss you,

Mamoru

"That was quite a recital," Artemis said.

"It ought to be," Luna replied with a yawn. "She spent an hour reading the letter—two, if you count all the histrionics."

"Bad?" Artemis inquired.

"She didn't manage to break anything," Luna said clinically,"but she did come up with some interesting plans for Mamoru. I think the nicest involved a tree, a rope, and a large stick. The letter itself is a mess."

"We haven't seen each other since the end of summer," Usagi went on. "I was all set for two weeks—or even one! Just one week!—of things being back to normal, and he has the... the... _gall_ to go and tell us he can't make it. And in a _letter!_" She made a wordless sound of anger, one fist clenched.

The other girls and the cats looked at each other. They knew Usagi wasn't really angry at Mamoru. Well, maybe a little—more likely a lot—but not as much as she claimed to be. The show of ire was just that; a show, a mask to cover Usagi's real feelings. They also noticed her use of the word"us" rather than just"me.""Us" was not the five of them, nor was it an unconscious use of the royal plural that the past Moon Princess and the future Neo-Queen might employ; "us" was Usagi and her baby. And Mamoru's baby. The one he still didn't know was on the way.

"An overseas phone call?" Rei forced herself to laugh. "Do you have any idea how expensive that would have been?"

"At least he doesn't try to hide anything," Makoto observed.

"And it is sort of sweet," Minako added,"how he's working himself silly just so you can see each other on a regular basis again."

"I think he's making the right choice," Ami said firmly. "Overseas study programs are extremely competitive, and he'll need excellent marks to even be considered. Never mind that he actually lives _here._"

"I know." Usagi sighed, her angry facade gone in a blink. "That doesn't mean we... I miss him any less." There was a moment of awkward silence before Minako glanced at the television.

"Hey, they're getting ready." The others all looked to the screen, where the local news was broadcasting from near the Tokyo Tower. Thousands of people had crowded into the park around the structure, which was completely dark. Large, double-sided electronic billboards stood at each corner of the tower's base, flashing patterns of digital fireworks above the crowd below.

"Luna," Usagi asked suddenly,"did we celebrate New Year's in the Moon Kingdom?"

"Yes," the black cat replied. "Of course, you have to remember that, back then, New Year's was celebrated at the beginning of spring. There were a few winter celebrations at about this time, too, but I couldn't really tell you which one would take place now; they all sort of blurred together."

"How did we celebrate, exactly?"

"The usual way," Artemis grinned. "Wine, women, song, and v-oomph!" He finished from under a pillow Minako had dropped on him.

"Joking aside," Luna said with a scathing glance at her smothered companion,"he's right. There wasn't all that much ceremony involved beyond a proclamation by the Queen telling everyone to go out and have fun. Not that anyone ever needed much encouragement for that."

"Here it goes," Makoto interrupted. Their attention turned back to the screen. Huge numbers had appeared on the boards and were slowly ticking away, the crowd roaring in chorus.

"GO!" the crowd on the television shouted. Ami frowned, distracted from the televised festivities by a faint echoing sound. Where was it coming from?

Overhead, unnoticed, a hole was opening in the ceiling, a hole which connected to a tunnel that seemed to swirl and spiral on into infinity.

"YON!" the crowd continued. Usagi stepped away from the door to get a better look at the television screen, unknowingly putting herself directly beneath the growing space in the ceiling.

"SAN!" Ami looked around, then up.

"NI!" Her eyes widened as she saw the hole—and more importantly, saw something falling down towards them from an impossible distance.

"ICHI!"

"LOOK OUT!" Ami shouted, leaping from her chair.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The crowd roared, fireworks exploding and confetti flying everywhere. The tower seemed to disintegrate in a rain of rainbow-colored fire, and lasers traced complex patterns through the air above the cheering crowd.

"Huh?" Usagi looked up just in time to recognize the phenomenon and get hammered by what felt like a meteorite impact, but was, in fact, merely Senshi Pluto, the Guardian of Time, falling from an unanticipated space/time vortex and landing most unceremoniously on her butt—and her Princess. Assuming that either of them were still conscious at that point, the subsequent arrival of Pluto's staff quickly remedied the problem, somehow managing to strike both its mistress and the girl she had crashed on across their respective heads before it clattered to a stop on Ami's floor.

For the first minute or so of the new year, as Usagi and Pluto lay in an unconscious heap on the floor, the only sound in that room was the televised cheering. Then Artemis, still half-buried under the pillow, spoke.

"We never used to do _that_ for New Year's."

*MILLENNIALS*

Senshi Pluto was over two thousand years old. For most of her life, she had lived in a place where she could observe the flow of Time without being touched by it, and had learned more about the world than any mortal historian could ever dream. Her control over her element was at once both subtle and profound, and she had, moreover, a curious ability to see what one wise man had once called"the big picture." Whether because of her immensely logical frame of mind, her timeless eternity of observation from the Time Gate, or due to some strange mystical power, Pluto could judge—in advance—what the result of a certain action was likely to be. She knew how Time was supposed to move and shape the world, and could take steps to correct mistakes before they were ever made. The young Inner Senshi were all in awe of her to one degree or another, for she had always seemed to be in complete control of a situation, knowing what had to be done before it was needed.

None of that had prepared Pluto for the sensation of being dumped out of her quiet solitude without so much as an explanation, to land disastrously on a being she loved and respected more than almost any other, and then, as a final insult, be knocked cold by her own weapon.

To say she was having a bad day would be putting it mildly.

At the moment, however, the Inner Senshi were unaware of their senior soldier's particular predicament. All they knew was that she was currently lying in a tangled heap with Usagi on Ami's floor.

Once the initial shock had passed, the girls moved quickly, assuming for the moment that Pluto's entrance had been the prelude to an attack. After switching off the television, Minako moved to cover the door, sliding it open just far enough so that she could look out into the hall; across the room, Makoto backed herself against the wall near the sliding door that Usagi had so recently been staring out through, hidden by the angle of the wall but ready to jump at anything that might come in from the balcony. Rei went directly to Usagi, first untangling and dragging her out from the pile Pluto's crash-landing had created, then checking to make sure she was merely unconscious and not more seriously hurt. After a few moments, the worry on Rei's face melted away into relief, and then a sort of wry fondness as Usagi began to snore softly.

Ami, meanwhile, attended to Pluto. She took a certain degree of reassurance in the fact that the Outer Senshi was in relatively the same condition as Usagi. Minus the pregnancy, of course. It probably meant that she hadn't been fighting when the portal had opened. Of course, it could also mean that she'd been caught by surprise, but as far as Ami knew, Pluto couldn't _be_ surprised—not when she was in the misty void that surrounded the Time Gate, anyway.

After five minutes had passed without monsters leaping in from other dimensions or tearing through the walls, the Senshi relaxed. Slightly. There was still the question of why Pluto was here, and whether or not something else had been responsible for her abrupt entrance, but the only person with the answers was, in Ami's estimation, likely to be asleep for some time yet.

Makoto helped Ami move Pluto to the larger couch while Rei and Minako moved Usagi to the other. After pulling a blanket over Pluto and brushing a few strands of dark hair away from the sleeping Senshi's face, Ami turned, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she came face-to-face—so to speak—with the hovering key-staff. The weapon hung motionless in the air near the middle of the couch, ignoring the stares and the law of gravity with equal ease.

"That thing never ceases to be weird," Artemis said. "Check this out." He padded over to the floating weapon, rose on his hind legs, placed his paws on the end of the staff, and pushed. Nothing happened. Artemis pushed a second time, and again, Pluto's staff did not budge. "Creepy, isn't it?"

The girls did not have time to answer, as the sound of a door opening echoed up from downstairs.

"Ami! Are you here?"

"Mother," Ami said needlessly.

"I thought you said she was at some doctor's New Year's party," Makoto said. "How are we going to explain _this?_" She waved her arms, taking in Usagi, Pluto, and the quietly floating staff in the same gesture.

"At least the hole in the ceiling is gone," Artemis joked lamely.

"Never mind the humor," Minako told him. "Do you have any useful suggestions?"

"I'll try to stall her," Ami said, heading out the door. "Do something about Pluto so she looks—well, normal. And hide that staff!"

Fixing Pluto's appearance was easy enough. Minako pulled the blanket Ami had placed over the sleeping Senshi a little higher to hide the distinctive fuku collar, and then slid the tiara from Pluto's forehead, tucking it away behind a pillow.

The staff proved more troublesome. Makoto was trying to pull it towards the closet, but her face looked as if she were trying to move a mountain. Rei and Minako added their own strength, but even all three of them together couldn't budge the staff from its place—and the sounds of footsteps were on the stairs. Rei looked back at the door and then turned to confront the staff.

"MOVE, you lousy stick!"

It moved.

In point of fact, it vanished. Between one blink of an eye and the next, Pluto's staff was gone.

The girls didn't have time to question it. Artemis yelped in surprise as Minako picked him up and sat them both down in front of the television. Rei sat down on the armrest of the couch where Usagi lay, and Makoto leaned against the wall near the sliding door, trying to look casual and match Usagi's earlier gaze. The footsteps were almost at the door before Minako remembered to turn the television back on.

"Hello, girls."

"Ohayo, Mizuno-san," they replied.

"Ami," her mother asked, looking back over her shoulder,"who is that young lady?"

"Her name is Meiou Setsuna, kaachan," Ami replied, trying to sound relaxed,"a friend from out of town. She just arrived tonight, and she was pretty tired."

"Usagi-chan was as well, I see," Mrs. Mizuno said, smiling. "That's to be expected."

"If you don't mind my saying it," Rei said quickly,"that's a very nice dress."

"Do you like it?" Ami's mother smiled and twirled about once. The dress was one of those sleeveless designs that hung off one shoulder and left the other bare, except that this one _had_ sleeves; the right one was ordinary, while the left, lacking any fabric on that shoulder to attach to, was more like a long, fingerless glove. Except for that sleeve-glove, the dress was a single piece of dark blue material, against which Mrs. Mizuno had chosen to wear gold earrings and a matched necklace. It _was_ quite a nice dress, although not exactly what the girls had pictured when Ami had told them about the 'hospital party' her mother was going to.

"Broken any hearts yet tonight?" Minako smiled.

"Mina-chan," Ami protested, blushing, but her mother just laughed.

"Not yet, dear, but as they say, the night is young."

"_Mother!_"

"I just wanted to check and make sure you girls were okay," Mrs. Mizuno went on, ignoring her daughter's embarrassment. "I tried calling a little while ago, but the phone lines seem to be down." The girls blinked. Rei reached down for the phone next to the couch and lifted the receiver up to her ear.

"No dial tone," she reported. "Did somebody knock over a telephone pole? Or was there a blizzard in the last five minutes?"

"It isn't snowing," Makoto said, looking up at the sky. "I don't even see a cloud."

"Hang on," Minako replied, directing their attention to the television.

"We interrupt our New Year's Eve coverage with an important update. City officials have informed us that phone lines in Juuban and the surrounding districts are currently out of order. The problem is attributed to a software glitch in the computers which regulate the network, and work is underway to reroute the affected lines to backup systems until the computers have been repaired. Officials expect the rerouting will take several hours to complete, and public use of the lines will likely remain problematic for the next few days, but emergency lines to fire, police, and medical services are still operational. The city of Tokyo apologizes for the inconvenience, and wishes everyone a happy New Year's Eve."

"Wonderful," Makoto said. Minako shook her head.

"Y2K in action, hmm?"

"I guess so," Ami admitted. "But the city finished upgrading its computers over six months ago. There shouldn't have been any problems." Rei rolled her eyes.

"So much for modern technology."

*MILLENNIALS*

In one of Tokyo's central telecommunications centers, several workmen were moving through orderly rows of computer processors. Many of the machines hummed and sparkled with little rows of red and green lights, rather like digital Christmas trees. Others were dark and silent, and when the workmen passed any of those, they stopped to examine the defective tower and make notes.

"Some programming error," the lead workman said, looking up from an opened maintenance panel. "Half the circuit boards in here are fried."

"Same thing over here," another man replied. A woman looked up from a functioning computer monitor, on which were displayed representations of the rows of processors. Many were shown in red, as 'inactive.'

"Did we have a power surge in here?"

"I don't think so," the first man answered. "The amount of current it would have taken to cook these boards would have melted the power lines, too, but I don't see any damage to the wiring."

"Here's another one," the fourth man said from further down the line. "Wires intact, chips fried. It'll take days to replace all this." The woman turned at a bleep from her computer.

"Number 19 just went down."

"I've got it," the second worker replied, moving over to the afflicted unit. He fiddled with the access panel for a moment and then opened it. His eyes went wide. "What in the... Hiroshi, get over here!"

"What is it?" Hiroshi moved over next to his fellow worker and looked into the computer. Something inside looked back at them both. Something that was not a part of the machine, but a strange, organic blotch, clinging to the circuit boards with tiny tendrils. As they watched, the thing shimmered with energy and seemed to melt into the boards, leaving them in the blackened and ruined state they had seen in the other machines. "What _is_ it?" Hiroshi repeated.

"Wh... wha... what..." Both workmen stared in shock as a slow, croaking voice issued from the computer. "What is it?" The words were clearer this time. "What is it?" Now the voice was recognizable as Hiroshi's. "What is it? What is it? Whatisit? Whatisitwhatisitwhatis..." As the words accelerated into a screeching blur, several of the inactive computers whirred to life.

"Hiroshi!" The lead workman yelled. "What did you do?"

Tiny popping noises became audible through the plastic casing of the computers, as if ten thousand tiny hammers were battering away at each of them from the inside. As the noise grew, narrow wires burst from each computer, lancing across the aisles to sink deep into other machines. The woman jumped aside as several of the seeking wires shot into the disk drive of her computer. The other workers scrambled out of the way of the growing number of wires.

By now, the outer surface of the computer in which Hiroshi and the other workman had seen the bizarre thing was covered by a greenish mass. Many of the other computer processors were similar, and the substance was spreading across the wires sprouting from them. In only a few seconds, most of the equipment in the room had been speared by the tiny lines, creating a vast, chaotic web.

A security camera in the far corner, connected to one of the infected computers by a long length of wire, turned to view the five workers as they backed towards the door. Wiring erupted from terminals all over the room, from light fixtures in the ceiling, from wall sockets, from everywhere.

The noise of shattering tiles and cracking walls drowned out the screams.

*MILLENNIALS*

After walking her mother to the door and reassuring her several times that they would be fine, Ami went back upstairs to rejoin her friends. Minako and Makoto were sitting near the balcony door, discussing the dress Mrs. Mizuno had been wearing, and Rei was checking Usagi for signs of consciousness.

"Any improvement?"

Rei shook her head. "This _is_ Usagi we're talking about here," she added with a rueful smile.

"I _still_ say that was too nice a dress for a get-together with a bunch of doctors," Minako insisted.

"And _I_ still think you've been reading too many romance novels," Makoto replied.

"Oh, look who's talking!"

"What are they going on about?" Ami asked.

"Those two?" Rei chuckled. "They're debating whether your mother went to a party or a date. That dress has Mina-chan convinced your mother's trying to impress someone." Rei looked at the two arguing Senshi. "You might want to give some thought to keeping Mina-chan away from your house for the next few weeks; if she gets it into her head that there's a potential romance brewing here, she's going to do everything she can to help—and you know what a disaster she is when she's being helpful."

"Thanks for the reminder," Ami groaned.

"Don't look so glum," Artemis said from the arm of the couch. "I'll keep an eye on her for you."

On the back of the couch, Luna rolled her eyes. "And that's supposed to make her feel better?"

"Keep it down, Luna... m'trying to sleep..." They all looked down as Usagi mumbled her way back into semi-consciousness. Her left eye opened slowly, taking in two friends, two cats, and the ceiling beyond. "What hit me?"

"Pluto," Rei replied. Usagi sat up so fast that her head nearly collided with Rei's and Ami's.

"_Pluto?_" Ami and Rei both clamped their hands over Usagi's mouth.

"Not so loud," Ami said. "She's still asleep."

"Forry," Usagi mumbled. After the others pulled their hands away, she went on in a loud whisper. "How did she get here?"

"We're not sure yet," Ami said quietly. "You've both been out cold since she... uh... landed. Aside from being unconscious, she seems to be okay, so I don't think she was fighting." Usagi looked around the room.

"I seem to remember getting hit by her staff," she said flatly. "Where is it?"

"It disappeared," Rei admitted.

"What?"

"You heard me. Ami's mother came home to check on us—the phones are out, by the way—so we had to try and make Pluto look as ordinary as possible. We couldn't get the staff to budge so much as an inch, and Mizuno-san was practically at the door, so I got angry and told it to move."

"And it moved?" Rei shrugged.

"What can I say? When I talk, things listen." She drummed her knuckles across Usagi's forehead. "Though some listen better than others, it seems."

The fight got started right then and there.

Rei and Usagi had made it as far as the point of grinding their teeth and shooting invisible daggers at each other from their eyes when they noticed Pluto beginning to move.

"Mmm..." Her eyes opened much more slowly than Usagi's, but with generally the same sort of bleary-eyed confusion.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Minako said.

"Thank you," Pluto said slowly. She tried to sit up and began to sway until Ami caught her.

"Take it easy," she advised the older girl. "You hit your head."

"I believe it," Pluto said with a wince. "My brain feels like it's going to explode."

"I know the feeling," Usagi said dryly. "You need to work on your landings." She stopped laughing when she noticed how Pluto was looking at her; blankly. Actually, now that she looked more closely, Usagi realized that Pluto's entire face had the same empty quality as her eyes. It wasn't her usual reserved expression, but something else, something which set off a caution light in Usagi's head. "What is it?"

"Who are you?" Everyone in the room stared.

"What do you mean?" Usagi said, dumbfounded.

"I don't remember..." Pluto began. Then her voice trailed off into silence, and a look of stark terror came over her. "I don't remember," she repeated, tears welling up in her eyes. The awful finality in her words told the Senshi that she had forgotten far more than Usagi's name.

Pluto did not know who she was.

The other Senshi and the two guardian cats looked at each other in despair. Usagi stood and walked over to the other couch in silence. Pluto flinched away as Usagi—a complete stranger—sat down next to her. Usagi reached out and gently turned Pluto's face towards her, taking the older girl's hand and letting her feel both the shared fear and the unconditional love reflected in Usagi's eyes. For just a moment, something in Pluto's mind reacted, a shadow of a memory, an echo of a dream. For just a moment, she knew, without knowing how, that this blue-eyed girl, this stranger, was a friend.

Then the moment passed, and emptiness returned. Senshi Pluto did not exist; her body was now home only to a frightened young woman with no history, no memory, no name. She hung her head and began to cry. Gentle arms enfolded her in understanding, but she did not know whose arms they were, and the tears only grew worse as the nameless girl curled into a ball of fear, turning her face away from these strangers who should not be strangers.

"Shhh," Usagi said softly. "It'll be all right. I promise, it'll be all right." She looked at her other friends, eyes rich with tears of her own, silently asking a question.

*It will be all right, won't it?*

Their own gazes held no answers, and Usagi squeezed her eyes shut, two tears working their way down her cheeks.

In her arms, Pluto continued to cry.

*SAILOR SAYS*

Ami: Today we gained more evidence that Usagi-chan is apparently a designated landing zone for people traveling through space and time.

Usagi (pushing on-screen from the left): We _also_ learned that if I ever find out who's been responsible for dropping people on me out of nowhere, there's going to be one almighty reckoning for it.

(Cut to a shot of Balance, gavel in hand, looking suddenly like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.)

Usagi: And I've got a few choice things I'm saving up for Mamo-chan, too, if he tries to announce any more surprises to me by mail. A letter! A lousy letter! Oohhh...

(Cut to a shot of Mamoru, looking up from his books at a nearby television screen from which Usagi is glaring back at him with the words"Sailor Says" below her. He quickly changes the channel and breathes a nervous sigh of relief.)

Pluto (entering from the right, head bandaged): Calm down, Usagi.

Usagi (rounding on Pluto): And _you!_ Don't any of you time-traveling, dimension-hopping types know how to use a _door?_ You're lucky I have a soft spot for people with total memory loss, because I've got a good mind to...

(On cue, another space/time vortex swirls open above Usagi. Ami and Pluto jump clear as ChibiUsa, Genki from"Monster Rancher," the kids from"Digimon," Trunks from"Dragonball Z," and little kawaii versions of SG-1 fall out and crash-land on Usagi in a massive pile.)

Usagi: Oomph!

ChibiUsa: Sorry. (She looks at Usagi) Have you been pigging out on donuts again?

Kawaii Tiel'c: I do not recognize this place, O'Neil. We appear to have taken a wrong turn.

Kawaii O'Neil: Ya think?

Tai: Who the heck are these guys?

Usagi: Okay, now I'm angry! Moon Eternal, Make-Up! (She transforms, throwing everyone off.) NOW you're gonna get it!

Genki: Wow!

Izzy: What in the world was _that?_

Pluto: I thought she couldn't do that right now.

Ami: Never underestimate the power of irritation.

(Kawaii Tiel'c fires his staff-weapon at Sailor Moon; at the same time, Trunks lets loose with his trademark "Burning Attack." After the smoke clears, an extra-crispy version of Sailor Moon coughs up a puff of dust.)

BBQ Sailor Moon: THAT DOES IT!

(She proceeds to chase the entire assembly off-screen, leaving Ami, Pluto, and ChibiUsa behind to stare after her.)

ChibiUsa: Pu? Is it too late for you to tell me I'm adopted?

Pluto (looking confused): Who are you?

28/11/99 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Well, that was fun. :)

For the continuity freaks out there—you know who you are—this story obviously takes place after the last season of the official—see also: Japanese—series. Some of you—again, you know who you are—are probably slightly irked with me that it's close to five years later, and the Senshi haven't changed with the times like the rest of us.

It's called creative license, people. I wanted to do a turn-of-the-millennium story using the Senshi, so I did—and if I have to play fast and loose with the space-time continuum to get the job done, I will. Additionally, those who know their Sailormoon calendar and do some careful counting on their fingers may note a slight discrepancy in the length of Usagi's pregnancy. For those who didn't notice or bother to count, it's a bit long. Let's review, shall we?

A) Sailor Moon fact: ChibiUsa is born in June; the 30th, I believe.
B) Real fact: Human pregnancies traditionally last nine months.

Trace back nine months from our target date of June 30, and you wind up in the back end of September. Problem is:

C) Other real fact: Universities start their mainstream courses in early September, or even late August. And;
D) Story fact: Mamoru is still studying in the US.

That presents a bit of a conundrum, doesn't it? Solving the problem by having Mamoru show up over Thanksgiving Break—do they even have that in Japan?—or at Christmas would have had the end result of making ChibiUsa about two or three months premature. That sort of bothered me, so I went the other way. I just hope that Usagi—and any female readers who've gone through the whole nine months themselves—aren't too upset with my solution of one more month.

Also, for anyone who objects to my rather harsh treatment of Pluto, I apologize, but it's fairly important that she have this breakdown right now. If you object to it more because it's out-of-character, remember that her memory—and thus a major part of her personality—is gone. How would YOU react to something like that?

Well, for those looking forward to the next installment, I'll try not to take too long. The thing is, I'm going to try and spread this mess out so the story runs the course of a year—the year 2000, natch—so it could very easily take that long to finish. And then again, given the way I can write at times, it might not. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?