This was fun! Thanks for sticking with me throughout the adventures of these two dorks in love. Writing smut is super hard (that's what she said) and I think I'm sticking to G-rated stuff for a while. But, I'm glad I tried something new (that's what she... okay, sorry). :-P
Please let me know what you think!

"Are you sure it's okay to be here?" Usagi asked. The garden behind the mansion was beautiful, even in the relative darkness, with pathways leading through small trees and flowering bushes. Mamoru seemed to know his way around, so she walked next to him and tried not to obsess about the fact that his hand was resting on the small of her back.

"Yeah," he said, "Mr. Edwards keeps his gardens open to the public. I used to come here a lot."

She found herself inching closer to him as they walked, and he responded by pressing his fingers slightly against her back, drawing her closer still.

"Oh," Usagi said, quietly.

Finally they came to a stop by a small fountain in the middle of a stone walkway, where the babble of the water mingled with the distant sounds of the party. Mamoru didn't drop his hand from her back, and she found herself reaching up, running her fingers along the edge of his jacket, catching them on the buttons of his shirt.

"It's nice," she said, referring to the garden, although she wasn't looking at it. "Why'd you call me Sailor Moon back there?" Usagi looked up, catching his eyes. She expected him to pull away from her, but instead he was quiet for a bit, letting his eyes drift around the quiet darkness before finding hers again.

"The fellowship ended two months before the semester officially started at Keio," he said. "I had some free time to look into things."

"Things? Like what?"

"News articles - mostly on microfiche - from the days when the senshi were active. There are also internet forums - if you know where to look - with rumors and speculation. Even photographs."

"Why?" Usagi said, ignoring the words she didn't understand and focusing on the cold rush that washed over her at the ones she did.

"I think you know why."

She searched his eyes, mouth falling open just a bit.

"I had to fill in some gaps," he explained. "And every new bit of information I learned fed into a memory. Foggy at first, but it soon became clearer. I looked at world history books, too." He met her eyes. "Funny how some memories are older than others, Princess."

Usagi shivered a little, even though the night was warm. Mamoru put his other hand on her arm, running it up and down as if to warm her.

"Did you find time in between all this 'research' to do what I asked?" she lifted her chin and met his eyes. "Forget me? Find a girlfriend?"

His lips pulled back in a sardonic smile. "I did neither of those things, no," he said. "Sorry."

"I don't think you're sorry at all," she retorted, turning away slightly so he couldn't see her expression, the biting back of a smile. She had no right to be pleased, she reminded herself. Just because he was remembering... didn't mean she had any right or claim to him. Especially if he didn't know the whole truth.

"Hmmm... I don't think you're actually upset about it, either," he said. The hand on her arm moved up to her face, gently turning her toward him again and she leaned into his touch despite herself.

Usagi wasn't sure who kissed who first, just that suddenly his lips were on hers with a gentle kind of urgency. She slid her hand up to brush against the hair at the nape of his neck as the soft heat of his kiss went from gentle to passionate and her mouth opened under his. She stretched herself up, balancing on tip-toes as he supported her back with his arm. She braced her body against his, and he responded with a throaty hum of approval.

This wasn't what they were supposed to be doing- this wasn't... she knew they had to talk, that it was important to sort out this new revelation, but every time she tried to gather her self-control his tongue would slip back into her mouth and she'd be lost again, responding with the ardor of someone who'd been denied this for so long... far too long. Mamoru finally pulled away, either with the realization of their location - private but not that private - or simply to gather his wits again.

Usagi swallowed, brushing her hands back through her hair. For a moment they stood, facing each other, catching their breath. "How much do you- how much do you remember?"

"Enough," Mamoru said. He turned his gaze away, balling one hand into a fist. "Enough to understand why you might... not want-" Suddenly, he took a few steps away, turned his back to her.

He remembered Sailor Moon, the feel of her in his arms as he'd bring her to safety, the awe in which he watched her defeat monsters despite her obvious fear - then there was everything from falling off a balcony to nearly tumbling down an elevator shaft. Cryptic messages and a lost locket, desperation to help her and then blinding pain. And, for every memory of her - of them - that drifted into his mind, there was the shuddering recollection of his hands around her throat. There was no change in intensity between the good and bad memories, no break from the waves of emotion that broke over him with unrelenting regularity whenever he recalled their shared past.

Needless to say, it had been an emotionally exhausting two years.

"To understand why you might not want this," he finished.

"I want this more than I've ever wanted anything," she said. "But it's not fair to ask it of you."

"Of me?" He turned and looked at her in astonishment. "Usagi, if- if you really want me to leave you alone, I will. I can go on with my life, make every attempt to live without you. I might even be reasonably fine, day to day. But don't act like you are doing me some kind of favor."

"Mamoru, because of me, you died!"

"Well, apparently it didn't take."

"It's not a joke!" she cried.

And then they stood there, facing each other and Usagi felt for all the world like it was some kind of stand-off. She watched him take a shaky breath, his adam's apple bopping slightly, hair falling a bit into his eyes. Hesitantly, she reached for his hand and he threaded his fingers through hers, the warmth that flooded through her at his touch was undeniable.

"Sorry," Mamoru said, quietly.

"You remember Sailor Moon?" Usagi asked, and he nodded. "The princess?" Another nod. "The Dark Kingdom?" He cringed and nodded and she squeezed his fingers.
"What... what we ... you remember us?" It was a stupid way to ask it, to lay down the entire complicated web of ancient doomed love and miracle rebirth and how that mattered (or didn't) to the two teenagers arguing on the streets of Juuban.

"Yes," he said, looking at her with a heavy gaze. "I'm so sorry, Usagi-" and she shook her head, cutting off his apology.

"Don't apologize," she managed to say, almost drowning in her own guilt and sadness. "Will you kiss me again just-" and she was pulling on his jacket until he dipped his head again, and she kissed him desperately, winding her arms around his neck. This wasn't fair, it wasn't a fair thing for her to do, to pull his lower lip into her mouth, the gentle sucking making him softly moan, to slip her hands beneath his jacket, pressing her fingertips into the muscles of his back. But, oh, she wanted just a few moments to pretend everything was going to be okay, to delight in the fact that he remembered her, that even before he remembered he had wanted her anyway - that maybe they had even the ghost of a chance.

"Usagi you- I-," he could barely manage to speak. It'd been too long with only his thoughts of her - and to have her here and real and in his arms, it was overwhelming.

He pulled her slightly away from the path, into the shadows of some trees, and then resumed their kiss with unrestrained need. She responded, again and again, reveling in the familiar taste of his mouth, the movement of his lips on hers, the sweep of his tongue over hers - igniting her nerves with blissful shudders of desire. Eventually he moved away from her lips, kissing down her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, her skin. Usagi clutched at his shoulders, her feet almost off the ground. She stumbled backward a bit, pulling him with her, and finally rested her back against a larger tree which freed her hands to move through his hair, down his chest. One of his hands was hot against her hip, the other moved to cup her breast, caressing her through the layers of clothing.

"Oh," she sighed, arching toward him. Her hands fumbled toward the waistline of his pants, "I want... I want to touch you..." She hooked her leg around his, arching her hips up toward his. At the feel of her grinding against him, he groaned out loud.

"Don't," he managed in a strangled voice, "I... can't...," he rocked against her, just once, and then grit his teeth.

Nodding slowly, Usagi straightened up, letting a sliver of space come between them again. "Right," she mumbled. Public place, no condom, just met again after two years... Besides which, using sex to ignore the necessity of talking wasn't... probably wasn't... exactly the right thing to do. Despite the temptation. "Sorry."

Mamoru put his palms against the trunk of a tree, shutting his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. Usagi leaned next to him, watching him with luminous eyes.

"Do you remember why you started?"

"Huh?"

"Why you were Tuxedo Kamen. Why you wanted the rainbow crystals in the first place."

He paused thoughtfully, straightening up and facing her. "It sort of happened without my knowledge," he said. "I didn't even realize I was transforming until ... until it'd been going on for a while."

"But you consciously continued, after that," Usagi said. "I want to know if you remember why."

"To protect you," he said. "To reveal the mystery of the princess who'd been haunting me since... well, forever."

"That's flattering, but it's not what you told me once," she said, her expression serious. "You were trying to find your past. The one you lost."

He sighed and leaned his head back on the tree, looking up at the sky. The conversation was coming back to him through a haze of memory. When he told first Usagi about his parents, about the missing six years of his life... it was right before she told him he wasn't the worst person in her world anymore. Right before she almost died... before...

"Anyway, you didn't," she said. "Find it, I mean."

"That's okay," he murmured after a moment. "I didn't really know what I was looking for, I just figured I'd know when I found it." He paused. "Incidentally, I was right."

"And then you lost it again," Usagi said. "All your memories, everything you worked for, everything you suffered for. Gone. Like it never happened." He looked like he might respond but she shook her head, indicating it was important she finish. "I told myself it was for the best, that you should live a happy life, a normal life, but I was stupid and selfish and couldn't stay away from you." Her lips pulled down slightly for a moment. "I never could stay away from you," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Usagi-"

"It was me," she said, looking up at him. "It was my fault. I took them. Your memories. It was my wish, my crystal, my power."

"I don't understand."

"I don't know why, what I wanted, what sort of dying wish it was that would undo everything that'd happened. Maybe I was trying to be selfless, to give us all what we never got - normalcy, happiness, I don't know. The point is, I stole your memories from you, but still never left you alone, and... then before you left I showed up at your place and brought this all to the surface and I shouldn't have, I... this is all my fault, okay? All of it."

"You really think I hadn't thought of you before that night we... did you really think I would've done that if I hadn't-"

"It doesn't matter," Usagi said, and the tears were coming before she could stop them. "The point is, it was my fault you didn't remember in the first place. Mamoru, don't you understand? There hasn't been a single lifetime that I've been good for you."

"Usagi, listen to me-"

But she didn't. She couldn't.

Usagi didn't even remember running back to the mansion, except that suddenly she was curled in the backseat of the catering van, sobbing her eyes out while Makoto looked on in concern. After that, she must've have fallen asleep sometime during the ride back, because she didn't remember getting home that night.

Two days later

Usagi let herself fall backward onto the pile of decorative pillows on Rei's bedroom floor. "Did I make a terrible mistake running away like that?" she wondered out loud.

"For the last time, yes," Rei confirmed, turning a page in her manga.

"Yup, totally," Minako agreed. She was attempting to balance a pencil on one finger, ignoring the workbook open on her lap.

Usagi groaned, and turned toward Makoto who just said, "You know how I feel about it."

"Ami?" Usagi sat up on her elbows and regarded her most level-headed friend.

Putting down her pencil, Ami looked up from her notebook and sighed. "It's not... what I would have suggested you do."

"But- UGH!" She threw a pillow in the air and attempted to catch it, it just landed on her face. "What do I do?!" She deeply regretted just leaving Mamoru without even giving him a chance to talk. It'd just been so overwhelming, to have him back so unexpectedly, to have to admit to him that his memory loss was her fault... she couldn't stay and hear him say he didn't forgive her.

"Just call him," Makoto suggested. "You have his number."

Usagi pouted. "I keeping getting his answering machine," she mumbled. "I mean, what am I gonna say into his answering machine?"

"'Hi, Mamoru, this is Usagi. I'd leave my number, but I don't know it, because I never call myself. Tee hee,'" Rei said, in a high-pitched voice that was obviously supposed to be a (rather unflattering) impression of Usagi.

"Once. I forgot my number once," Usagi muttered. "And it's true, I don't call myself."

"Just call him, Usagi," Minako said, rolling her eyers.

Usagi pulled the pillow over her face again. "So easy for you to say."

But that evening, she did pick up the phone, and with shaking fingers, she dialed the number on the card Makoto gave her. His answering machine clicked on and she rolled her eyes. He must be screening his calls. 'What if he's screening because he doesn't want to hear from me?' the thought almost made her slam the phone down but then the machine beeped and she found herself talking - imagining Rei's angry face if she chickened out again.

"H-hi, Mamoru. It's me. Uh, Usagi. From... uh, well you know. Anyway. I don't know if you hate me now or not but I thought maybe I'd go to the Furuhata's cafe tomorrow evening and... if you wanted to talk... even clear the air... or... anyway, I'll be there." She gave a time and left her number just in case.

Then she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number very quickly. "Mina-P it's me, I need moral suppoooorrrrtttt..."

She almost changed her mind four times, and only Minako's not-so-gentle shove through the doors got her into the fruits parlor in the first place. When she saw Mamoru sitting at a booth, reading a book with a mug of coffee in front of him, she almost turned and ran out again but Minako's glare kept her in line.

Usagi walked to where he sat, standing next to the booth for a moment, hands nervously twisting in her skirt.

"You're wrong you know," Mamoru said, not looking up. He turned a page.

Usagi's eyes widened. "About what?"

"I think there was one lifetime we were happy." He still didn't look up, his voice was light, nonchalant. Usagi glanced around, frowned. "I think it was Meiji era," he continued. "We had an umbrella shop. Lived behind the store. It was uneventful. Nice."

He looked up then, his eyes light and a small smile tugging on his mouth. "Then again, I was reading a history book before bed that night, so that could've just been a regular dream."

"Do you hate me?" she blurted out.

Usagi had to give him some credit for at least attempting to swallow his laugh. "No," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." He gave her one of his sarcastic smiles and she couldn't help giving a small smile in return. "I don't blame you, Usagi," he said, seriously. "Not for any of it. Not for a second."

Then, "Are you hungry?" he asked and she pursed her lips.

"I think you know me well enough to know the answer to that," she said, sliding into the booth across from him.

Two burgers and ice cream sundaes later, they were still deep in conversation, laughing between bites. "So, you remember posing for that painting for Yumemi?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Although I saw the painting on the internet. It's beautiful."

"I look good, you look okay," she said, gesturing with her spoon. "You were such a grump that entire time."

"I'm sure I was perfectly lovely company -"

"No, you were so on edge and borderline rude! I was, frankly, quite embarrassed for you."

"And I'm sure you were a ray of sunshine."

"I was!" She grinned, "See, you do remember."

He smirked.

Eventually, conversation slowly faded away and Usagi looked outside at the rapidly darkening sky. "I guess... we should go. You probably have things to do."

"Yeah, turns out medical school is a lot of work," Mamoru said, with a fake surprised shrug. "Who knew?"

Usagi smiled, and lowered her head for a moment. "Too much work to handle dating, I guess?"

"I didn't say that."

She looked into her empty ice cream bowl, stirring it slightly.

"I know we sort of went about this all backwards and mixed up," Mamoru said. "I can understand if you don't want to be serious right away, and want to see where this goes. We don't have to jump right into anything physical, either. We can take it as slowly as you want."

"Um...," Usagi bit her lip for a moment, trying and failing to keep her lips from pulling into a sheepish, almost apologetic, smile. Color rose up on her cheeks, but she still met his eyes. "Do... do we have to take it slow?"

For a moment they just looked at each other, then Mamoru looked over at the cashier stand. "Check please," he said.

They made it through the door. Barely.

They hadn't even gotten their shoes off, still in the alcove by the door, before they were somehow already kissing passionately. Usagi struggled to kick off her flats and step backward onto the carpet, and then stumbled, hitting the wall with a loud thunk.

"Sorry," Mamoru gasped and she just shook her head, pulling him down for another kiss. She was working on unbuttoning his shirt, which was difficult for her unpracticed fingers in the dark room, with the dizzying distraction of his mouth, sucking gently on the junction between her neck and shoulder. His hands slid their way under her shirt, lifting it up. Then he was skimming her sides with his palms, luxuriating in the satin feel of her skin. She wiggled her arms out and he pulled her shirt up over her head, where it fell unceremoniously to the floor.

"Usagi-" he managed to say, catching his breath as she finally succeeded in opening his shirt, her hands freely running along his stomach and back.

She pulled back, looking at him in the dim light. "Changing your mind?" she whispered.

"No, no, oh, god, Usagi, no..." he murmured, peppering her face with kisses, slipping his hand along the soft material of her bra. "It's just... " He seemed to lose his train of thought as his fingers clenched gently around the mound of her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric. "I want to make sure you are... sure..."

She reached around back to unhook the band, and then her bra was discarded too. "I'm sure," she said, bracing herself against the wall, letting her head fall back as he dropped his mouth to her breasts. The gentle suction of his mouth and tongue on her made her gasp and sigh, as she ran her fingers through his hair.

It'd been so long without him, and his touch was sending her into throes of heat already, the ache between her legs becoming almost unbearable. Usagi hitched up her leg against his, letting her body ride slightly against his thigh, mewling softly at the delicious friction and how good it felt how much she needed... He let out a strangled moan, and then he was frantically pulling at his belt, the zipper of his pants, and she was shimming out of her skirt with one hand, the other reaching out to stroke along his length.

"Hmmm," she murmured, "I want to...," her hand pulled along him, giggling softly at the strangled gasp he let escape at her touch. She knelt down, brushing her lips against his stomach in the lightest of butterfly kisses, slowly... slowly... Finally she brought her mouth against his tip, brushing her tongue against him - just slightly - and he moaned, involuntarily rocking toward her.

Usagi wasn't too educated in technique, but her inexperience hadn't seemed to bother him the last time, so she decided not to be shy. She took him into her mouth slowly, humming slightly against him, fingers exploring the area with gentle probing, circular motions. She reveled the taste of him, the feel of him responding to her every gentle movement with shaking desire. He shut his eyes, one hand braced against the wall while the other tangled through her hair as she drove him crazy with the slick heat of her mouth, the gentle suction and movement of her tongue. He dropped his hand from her hair, reaching down to barely grasp at her breast, the soft flesh...

Oh god... He let out a throaty, loud moan and she giggled god help him she giggled around him and he curled his hands into fists, fighting the waves of desire and the urge to push himself further toward her.

Instead, he pulled back, and said in a strangled voice, "I don't know how much longer... I can... Usagi, it's been so long I can't..."
He sank down to his knees beside her, and somehow he'd gotten a condom from his pocket ('Way to be prepared, Mr. We-Can-Go-As-Slow-As-You-Want,' Usagi thought, amused). "I don't know how long I'll last," he admitted, hands shaking slightly as he put it on.

Usagi giggled, softly, brushing her fingertips along his arms. "Don't worry, it's been a while for me too... " she reached for him, falling back slowly onto the carpeted floor, and positioning herself as best she could beneath him. She was beyond ready for him, having been utterly turned on since the first kiss at the doorway.

With one hand, she guided him toward her, arching her back and moaning softly at how amazing it felt when he entered her. One of his hands moved between her legs, his thumb touching her right there while his other hand grasped her backside, guiding her movements as they moved together. Each thrust brought his name from her mouth with more intensity. She ran her hands down his back, through his hair, bit her lip against crying out as the pleasure built and built with every movement.

Then, he moaned her name, body tensing and relaxing as he came, amid mumbled apologizes for the quickness of it all. But his hand was still down there, his fingers moving as she arched up again, and she was so close and oh oh OH "Don't stop don't stop don't..." and then it came on so quickly, the fireworks breaking behind her eyes and she gasped and twisted and moaned his name as he smiled into her neck.

"Oh my god, I missed you," Usagi murmured, and tightened her legs around him, keeping them together for a few moments longer, running her fingers through his hair.

"Well, you said we could see where this goes," she said, a few minutes later, "I think the answer is: exactly three feet inside the apartment."

His laughter was warm and comforting next to her. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "We have lots of time to improve our record," he said, mouth drifting down her neck.

Usagi smiled, snuggled up to him, not giving half a thought to retrieving her clothing or even moving off the floor.

Time. That certainly did sound wonderful.

Some Time Later

"...And that's the story of how I, Minako Aino, came up with the so-called Operation Fuck Mamoru's Memories Ba-"

"MINAKO."

"What?" She lowered her empty glass and looked around at the girls in the booth. "Not a good wedding toast?"

"NO," Rei said, eyebrow twitching slightly.

Minako sighed, leaning back in the booth. "Back to the drawing board I guess," she said, crossing some words off the pad of paper in front of her. "I still maintain it was a good mission name," she muttered, to the eye rolls of the three girls with her. "But I guess it isn't a good wedding toast," she conceded, nodding in agreement with herself. "Better save it for a bedtime story when I babysit for them after they have kids."

"MINAKO. NO."

But she just grinned.