Author's Notes:

Hey everyone! This is the first fanfic I've ever actually put online (I've written other random drabbles but I haven't had the guts to actually put it out there) so I hope you like it! I'd love whatever comments you guys have. Criticism is also appreciated because I have a lot to learn! Complements are of course wonderful- what better way to boost an ego? This story was inspired by the song "Stay Beautiful" by Taylor Swift- listen to it and you might get where that came from. I haven't worked out the plot of this story yet so if you have ideas feel free to tell me and I might incorporate them! This is only the first chapter so it isn't very thrilling, but it gives you a look at Serena's character. Have fun reading.

I do not own Sailor Moon- in case you thought I did (who would though?)

Title: You Again? (this title is not set in stone)

Rated: T Author: Futureprincess

You Again?

Chapter 1

I woke up from the incessant screech of my alarm. This was the part of my day I detested most. The part where I was forced to awaken from my lovely dreams where the world was full of rainbows and butterflies, where fairytales came true, prince charmings existed, smokers didn't, my job was just to live, and, most of all, alarm clocks miraculously vanished from the face of the planet. But, of course, I couldn't stay long in the land of slumbers. No one can. I have to wake up, groggy as usual.

My mother always told me that someday I'd get used to waking up early and I'd actually be happy first thing in the morning.

"Don't worry sweetie. I was like that too when I was young." She'd say with a sigh, reminiscing her youth, and hand me my lunch before I raced off to school. Well, that was more than ten years ago. At 28 waking up early still has no appeal to me.

But I did get up early every day and there's no longer anyone to complain to first thing in the morning. I just suck it up and go about the usual mundane morning activities. Yes, my life is just a hoot- a word I unfortunately inherited from my mom.

Brushing my teeth and washing my face only took a few minutes then I spent about half an hour taming my obnoxiously wild hair. It is a very bleach blonde but not dyed and it reaches down to my waist. I really should get it cut but I'm never brave enough to just chop it. I did that once in high school and completely regretted it. It was an impulsive decision but it seemed like the only thing to do at the time (I put my hair in a different style then and there was a boy who constantly tormented me about it… so yea). Anyway, since I refuse to cut my hair into a short, probably more professional style, I have to take extra time in the morning to make it look professional by doing an updo my mom taught me. It takes a while but in the end it looks pretty good and I look maturer.

Maturity, or rather the physical appearance of maturity, has always been an issue for me. Most people complain that they have too many wrinkles or a white hair or something but my problem is quite the opposite. I have a perpetually youthful face and body. Not in a good way either. It's as though I'm stuck in a twelve-year-old's body. So as a result I wear suits that give the appearance of curves, thank god for paddings, and I put on makeup like 16 year olds trying to sneak into 18+ clubs. So you can imagine why it takes me so long to get ready. It isn't so much the picking an outfit that doesn't make me look fat, like most women. No, it's actually making myself look like a person old enough to drink or drive or be a professional in the first place.

So that is my morning. The end result, I must say, is pretty good. I could probably pass for 20. Not quite drinking age but I don't drink anyway- not my thing. At least I can drive. I smile to myself in the mirror and give a thumbs up- that's a habit I picked up from my eccentric father who always said that a positive attitude in the morning is everything. Even if in the morning I don't really believe my own smile or thumbs up it always makes me feel a little better. My dad died when I was sixteen, and he always used to smile and thumbs up to me. When I started working I found myself with the habit and I didn't mind. It almost feels like he is there with me, guiding my thumb up and my smile into place.

I settled for a burgundy pantsuit, one of my favorites, this morning.

Looking at myself in the mirror one more time I nodded to myself in affirmative and walked out of my apartment.

The streets were busy as usual in the early morning rush but I made it to work early as planned (as per usual). But of course my extra time was not wasted. Never. Not my thing at all. Every minute is important and the next ten minutes are devoted to my favorite barista at the little coffee shop inside my office building.

"Hey Cindy." I smile at a nineteen year old girl with shoulder length brown hair and equally brown eyes. Cindy has a plain Jane look going for her. Very nice girl next door. I absolutely love her. She has worked at this coffee shop each summer for the past three years. She comes back every winter break too- like now- for about a month until school starts up again. This year though she's staying the duration of the semester because she decided to save some money and take a couple community college classes nearby before returning to her original school. Since she is Linda's daughter (the owner of this whole building) she gets to keep her job even if she isn't there most of the year. But just because she is the boss's daughter doesn't mean she is some sort of brat. Quite the contrary. She is the sweetest person and she's become a friend of mine. After all, she is in charge of my energy boost for the day.

"Hey Sere!" Cindy replied, always cheerful. I don't have to order at all, she hands me my drink. It doesn't change and my timing is impeccable (always here at 7:50) so she is always prepared.

"You're my angel, have I ever told you?" I tease with a sincere smile. I take my coffee. It's made just the way I like it. Doesn't matter what kind it is as long as the key ingredient is there. Sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. I can't stand the taste of coffee without the extra sucrose and cream.

"I think you've mentioned it before." Cindy said with her usual beatific smile. Then she looks me over and gives me one of her questioning expressions. "Burgundy suite huh? What's special about today?"

I take a sip of my coffee as I lean against the wall beside her register and give her a shrug.

"Nothing really, I dunno I just woke up and felt like I had to wear it." I reply truthfully. It seems like the thing to do this morning. I usually save it for special days where there is a big meeting or a promotion possibility or something but I went with the impulse this morning and wore it.

"Hmmm." Cindy murmurs pensively. "Something special is gonna happen today." She finally states with a pound of her fist on the counter for emphasis.

"Why do you say that?" I reply skeptically. My burgundy suite isn't that magical. I'd actually lost a promotion wearing it once. That had put a damper on the suite's spirit but I didn't give up my hopes for it. After all, if something negative comes out of it all that is left is the positive- that is what the optimist in me always believes.

"I feel it." Cindy replies mysteriously. I look at her for a moment. Her face is determined and sure.

"If you say so." I say with a shrug. "I certainly won't argue with you. I'll just hope you're right."

And for the next five minutes we talked about the random things in our lives. Mainly Cindy complaining about her strained relationship with her boyfriend of two years. He goes to a different university so they can't see each other much (he also goes to Colorado for winter break to be with his family so they can't be together during the holidays either) and Cindy worries that the distance is hurting their relationship. I, of course, assure her that it would work out if it's meant to be and, of course, if she wants it to. By the end she's smiling again and going into a play-by-play of a date she had with Andy, her boyfriend, a few weeks ago.

By the time I get up to my office I'm wide-awake and actually somewhat excited to start the day. Something special. That's what Cindy said. Something special. I was musing over this very thing when I was roused from my reverie by the buzz of my intercom signaling that Brad, my assistant, was trying to tell me something. I pressed the button and said "Morning Brad, didn't see you on my way in."

"Oh, sorry Ms. Tsukino I was grabbing something." Brad stuttered a little. He's new; my old assistant Danielle had retired a month ago. Brad is still sort of shy and really nervous around me for some reason. I hope he'd grow out of it soon.

"Not a problem Brad. I wasn't accusing you of anything." I replied, trying to calm his nerves. "So what's up? You buzzed?" I questioned. I figure the less I say the less nervous Brad will be. I tried to tease him one time and he blushed and sputtered even more. I think he considers joking sexual harassment even if the joke has no sexual implications. After the blushing incident I've tried to be as serious but non-scary as possible with Brad. And if you're wondering why I hired him, well it wasn't really my decision. Brad is the son of one of the chairmen of the company and they sort of forced him on me. Yes, nepotism is alive and well. Never gonna die. In Cindy's case it's tolerable but in Brad's it can be a little annoying.

"Um. There is a… a… a Mr. Shields here for you Ms. Tsss.. Tsukino." Brad sputtered again.

I sighed. Poor boy. I just feel sorry for him.

"Sure, send him in." I replied without asking who this Mr. Shields was or what he was doing here. I don't recall having an appointment with a Mr. Shields but I haven't checked my calendar lately and I figure if I ask Brad it would only further fluster him and the Mr. Shields would be annoyed hearing I forgot the appointment.

I heard the door to my modest sized office open and I looked up from my desk. Instantly I froze.

"Well, Hello, Ms. Tsukino." Mr. Shields said. "Or do you still prefer Ms. Meatball Head?"