The following afternoon, Usagi once again found herself knocking on Mamoru's front door. Although she was back in her normal clothing and wearing considerably less make-up, she felt far more nervous than she did the night before, and for good reason; his rejections had left her usually unflappable confidence shaken.

He had texted her early that morning, asking her to come over so they could talk. She knew she was the one who had asked for them to talk in the first place, but seeing as how the previous night had gone . . .

Usagi sighed, biting her lip. She just didn't know what to think anymore. What did he want out of their relationship? Would it really be possible for them to have the kind of relationship she wanted? How long could this possibly go on?

"Usako," Mamoru said as he opened the door, his face a neutral mask, "thank you for coming."

Foregoing her usual cheerful greeting, she nodded, stepping past him to enter. Silently she followed him into the living room and sat at the end of the couch, fidgeting uncomfortably as he sat on the opposite end. They sat awkwardly, each studiously avoiding looking at the other, neither knowing how to break the silence.

"I uh . . ." Mamoru paused, clearing his throat before beginning again. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Usa. About what's been going on between us."

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows knit together in worry. "OK . . ."

"First," he continued, "I need to apologize to you. I haven't been treating you like you deserve and I'm sorry."

Usagi's face softened, her nerves easing a bit. "Thank you, Mamo-chan. I appreciate that."

"I did a lot of thinking after you left. Last night, when you said I was being childish, it really shocked me."

Usagi blushed. "Sorry, Mamo—"

"No, no," he interrupted. "You were right. That's why it shocked me so much. I realized that I'd been telling myself you're too young, you're still a child, but . . . you grew up, Usa, and now I'm the one being a child."

"No, Mamo-chan, you're not a child, you're just . . . uh . . ." Usagi scrunched up her face as she mulled over how best to finish the sentence.

"A jerk?" Mamoru suggested.

"Not really the word I was looking for," Usagi said, playfully tugging on his shirtsleeve, "but you have been known to be a jerk, sometimes."

"At least I'm not as bad as when we met, right, Meatball Head?" he teased, reaching out a hand to poke an odango.

"I don't know," she said, tapping her chin, "you sure haven't been very nice to me lately."

"I know, I'm sorry, Usa . . ."

Usagi looked down and picked at an invisible thread on her skirt. "Minako thinks you have a Madonna-whore complex."

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Mamoru sighed.

Usagi grinned and shook her head.

"Motoki seems to think so too, the idiot."

"So . . . do you?"

Mamoru groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. "No, Usa. I know Minako thinks she knows everything there is to know about sex but trust me, I don't have that complex."

She narrowed her eyes. "OK . . . but then why does Motoki think that you do, too?"

"He doesn't get it," he explained as he sat back up. "He only knows a little part of the story. You know it's not possible to tell him everything."

"About our past, you mean?"

"Our past, our present, our future . . ." Mamoru ran an agitated hand through his hair. "It's just everything, Usa. It really weighs on me. I didn't realize how much I've been letting it affect our relationship."

"Oh, Mamo-chan," Usagi said, scooting closer to him, "is that what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right?"

"I know, I just . . . you have dealt with so much already. I don't want to burden you even more," he said. "Honestly, I'm surprised it doesn't affect you, too."

"It does, sometimes," she admitted, tracing small circles on his hand. "Sometimes I get scared that our happiness will end again. Sometimes I remember how lonely I was when you were gone and how much I missed you and I worry that you'll disappear again."

"Oh, Usa . . ."

"But," she continued, "I also know that no matter what, I will do my best, just like always, and I know that in the end things will work out."

"How do you know?" he asked. "How can you be so certain things will work out?"

"Because they always do, Mamo-chan," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Things didn't work out so well for us in our past life when the whole damn world ended, Usa."

She smiled, shaking her head at his pessimism. "Yes, but we were given another chance! We were born here in this time to be happy; to be together," she said, grasping his arm. "Don't you see? Yes, what happened was a tragedy but that's not going to happen again. I won't let it."

Mamoru sighed. "It's pretty hard to convince myself of that sometimes."

"But you've been to the future—you know that everything will be OK," she insisted.

"We've been to a future, Usa, not the future. There are no guarantees that things will turn out that way."

"So what?" she said, taking his hands in hers. "Instead of having that happy future we could have a different happy future."

"Or another unhappy, tragic one," he said, shaking his head.

Usagi looked at him sadly. "You need to place more faith in us, Mamo-chan, because one thing I have learned over and over is that we are stronger together and that we always—always—find our way back to each other." She smiled, squeezing his hands. "Mamo-chan, our love is so strong even death can't stop us from being together. And whatever happens in the future, we will face it together, right?"

Mamoru closed his eyes as the truth of her words struck deep within him. They had been through so much . . . and yet here they were. The sheer power of her heart had saved the world—the entire universe. And she had saved him, too, time and time again. He had been gravely injured, brainwashed, had his memories wiped, even died . . . but she, the amazing woman beside him, had always saved him, always brought him back. She had every right to demand faith from him. And, he realized, he needed to let go and give it to her—the same undying faith that she had earned from her senshi.

"You aren't alone anymore, Mamo-chan," she said, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Your burdens are my burdens."

Mamoru sighed, wrapping his arm around her. "Why are you so good to me, Usako?"

"Because I love you," she said, looking up at him. "I would do anything for you."

"I love you too, Usa." He leaned down and kissed her softly.

Blushing, she leaned her forehead against his chest. "Mamo-chan, I . . . I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"For yesterday," she said into his chest. "I'm sorry that I made you so uncomfortable. I thought if you could see me all grown up and sexy it would help but . . . it didn't."

He sighed, rubbing her arm. "Yes, you looked sexy, but to tell you the truth," he said, bringing a hand below Usagi's chin, gently nudging her until she was looking at him once again, "I prefer you like this."

"You do?"

He nodded slowly and leaned down, kissing her again.

"This Usako here in my arms, the Usako who isn't trying so hard, the Usako who's just being herself . . . that's the Usako I like the best."

"Mamo-chan . . ."

Usagi sighed happily as he once again caught her lips with his own. And when he deepened the kiss. . . well, she thought she might have been back in her dreams. He was doing magical things with his tongue—expertly probing her mouth and leaving her breathless.

She leaned into him, wrapping one arm around his neck and letting the other rest on his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. Mamoru brought a hand to her face, gently cupping her cheek and tracing lazy circles with his thumb. Desire shot through her like a bolt of lightning at his touch, settling deep within her.

Deciding that she needed to get closer, Usagi shifted to bring her leg across his lap, straddling him. As the crotch of her panties came in contact with the growing bulge in his pants, she arched involuntarily, letting out a gasp of pleasure. She grabbed his shoulders, steadying herself. But when she looked at him, she felt as if she had been drenched in ice water. Any trace of desire had disappeared from his face, replaced with the familiar look of mounting panic.

"Mamo-chan?" she asked uncertainly. "Is everything OK?"

"I uh . . ." He stared at her, breathing heavily, then quickly shifted her off of his lap as he attempted to get off of the couch.

"No!" she shouted, reaching out to grab his arm before he got too far. "You are not doing this again, Mamo-chan."

He collapsed back onto the couch beside her, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Usa . . ."

"Mamo-chan, what's going on? What is it?"

"I . . . I don't know," he said, rubbing his face.

"Is it me?" she asked. "Did I do something? Just tell me, please!"

"I don't know!" Mamoru sat back on the sofa, his hands covering his face. "I don't know . . ."

"But why . . . I mean, it seemed to be going so well."

Mamoru sighed, letting his hands fall. "It was."

"So what happened?" She gently rested a hand on his knee, doing her best to ignore the way he flinched at her touch. "Please, Mamo-chan, you have to tell me."

He shook his head, trying to find the words. "It's almost like . . . an alarm going off, a feeling of panic in my gut, telling me I have to get away. That I have to stop."

"That you have to stop being intimate with me?"

"I . . . I guess."

She withdrew her hand, placing it in her own lap. "Is that what you want?"

"No!" He reached out, grasping her shoulder. "No, Usa, please don't think that."

"I don't know what to think!" she said, hanging her head.

His hand fell from her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Usa."

"I just don't understand," she said after a moment of silence. "It was never like this before."

"Before?"

She turned to look at him, unshed tears in her eyes. "In our past lives," she said. "Don't you remember when we used to meet in your garden? What we used to do when we were alone, away from our guards?"

Mamoru sighed. "I remember," he said softly.

"Do you remember the way you used to look at me," she said, placing her hand on his, "the ways you would kiss me and touch me . . . Mamo-chan, I dream about those meetings and . . . it makes me want you so badly, makes me need you so badly, Mamo-chan. Don't you think of me like that? Don't you dream about those times?"

"I . . . I used to. A long time ago. But not anymore."

She squeezed his hand in concern. "What happened? What changed?"

"They . . . they got replaced. By other dreams."

Her stomach turned cold at his words. "What kind of dreams?"

He turned to face her. "The kind of dreams where you die when I kiss you."

"Oh my god," she said, feeling her face growing pale, "is King Endymion still sending those dreams to you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "but that doesn't stop them from coming."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not like I have them every night. And besides, we dealt with that so long ago . . ."

"Obviously we didn't! Mamo-chan, really? I can't believe this," she said, crossing her arms and sitting back on the couch. "God, I'm going to strangle future you for this!"

"I'm so sorry, Usako," he said, reaching out to rub her arm.

"No, I'm not mad at you, Mamo-chan. It just . . . makes me wonder . . ."

"Wonder what?"

"The alarms in your head—why you won't be intimate with me." She turned to face him. "I wonder if maybe deep down you still think I could die if you get too close or something."

Mamoru's hand stilled. "Oh my god . . ."

He thought back to the nightmares. Though they were now a mere echo of what they once were, they were still potent enough to give him flashes of dread and panic—the same feelings of dread and panic that he felt when things with Usagi got too intense. How had he failed to realize this—to make the obvious connection?

"I can't believe this. All this time I've been pushing you away, all because of those stupid dreams?"

Mamoru slumped back, attempting to process the revelation that the misguided stunt the lonely king had pulled on him so long ago could be affecting his relationship with his beloved so many years later. He felt used and betrayed and not unlike a lab rat—the result of an experiment gone awry.

"Mamo-chan," Usagi asked, pulling him from his thoughts, "do you remember when we met King Endymion and he told us why he sent those dreams? He said he was testing our love bond, right? To make sure that our love was strong and true in order to face the challenges of the future."

Mamoru sighed as he recalled the scene. "'An unflinching, faithful love that remains strong, no matter what happens.' I believe that's what he said."

"So maybe it's the same as before," she said, resting her hand on his knee. "We can overcome this by proving our love."

"How can we do that if I can barely touch you?"

"If you can barely touch me . . ." Usagi bit her lip as she considered their options, then felt her cheeks redden as a thought came to her. She stared at him for a few moments before nodding to herself, a look of resolve settling on her face. If this was to help her Mamo-chan, she was willing to do just about anything.

"Mamo-chan, could I try something?"

"I . . . I don't know, what is it?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course I do, Usa . . ."

She took a deep breath, then began unfastening her shirt buttons before her courage left her.

"What are you doing, Usa?" Mamoru asked, backing away from her.

"Mamo-chan, please . . ." she said, opening her shirt fully to reveal the lacy white bra beneath, "please watch me. Please, for me, OK?"

Mamoru nodded mutely. Unable to look away, he watched as Usagi stripped off of her shirt and started to unzip her skirt. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as desire shot straight to his groin at her actions.

"Mamo-chan," she said as she shimmied out of her skirt, "you don't have to touch me, not if you don't want to. But I want you to see me—the real me."

He swallowed thickly, doing his best to ignore the mental sirens that were starting their unwanted song.

Usagi reached behind her back to unsnap her bra, then, after a moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath and it too was undone and tossed aside.

"Look at me, Mamo-chan . . ." she told him, as if he could do anything else. His eyes were glued to her; desire, anticipation, and dread flooding his veins.

She took another deep breath, knowing that there was no going back after this. Then, she slid her thumbs down to hook them around the sides of her panties, pulling them down her hips, shifting her body to fully pull them off.

Usagi watched as Mamoru took in her naked form, his hungry eyes devouring her even as his body remained rigid. She could sense the anxiety and fear in him, but he was still there, watching, just as she had hoped, and it thrilled her.

"Do you know what happens when I dream of you? Of us?" she said, tracing her fingers down her full breasts.

He shook his head, his eyes still fastened to her.

"When I dream of the things we used to do . . . the way you used to touch me . . ." Her breath hitched as she began massaging her breasts, running her fingers over her hard nipples as she visualized some of the erotic dreams she'd had recently.

"What . . . what are you doing?" Mamoru asked, his heart racing.

"Maybe you can't touch me," Usagi explained, slowly moving one hand down her stomach, "but I can touch myself."

Usagi shifted, spreading her legs to give herself better access as her hand moved lower.

"I want you to see, Mamo-chan." She closed her eyes as her fingers reached their destination. She heard Mamoru's heavy breath and felt his eyes on her, watching her, burning her up. She was quickly becoming slick with desire as she imagined Mamoru's hand in place of her own, touching her. "Do you see what thinking of you does to me?"

Her eyes fluttered as she tested her wetness, which quickly coated her fingertips. Back and forth she rubbed, at first feather light but soon with more purpose, spreading her slick juices along her seam while teasing her nipple with her other hand, her breathing growing labored as her passion grew.

Mamoru watched as she pleasured herself, feeling more turned on than he ever thought possible. His head felt fuzzy as his desire battled the sirens for domination, and every gasp and moan that crossed Usagi's lips helped his internal struggle. And now, knowing exactly why the sirens had been haunting him, he was more desperate than ever for them to go.

Usagi's head fell back as she continued to touch herself, revealing a long white neck flushed with desire—a neck begging to be ravaged, he thought with a shock. As her face twisted in pleasure, he was reminded with a jolt of the times they used to make love with abandon among the roses of Elysion—memories he had carefully sealed away years ago but were now flooding his senses; memories of the musky smell of her desire, the taste of her sweet honey, the feel of her surrounding him as he buried herself inside of her . . .

He sucked in his breath as something deep within him snapped.

"Usa," he choked out, reaching out a hand to still her movements. "Please . . ."

Raising her head, Usagi looked at him, her eyes full of concern through her haze of pleasure.

"Mamo-chan?" she managed to get out through ragged breaths.

"Usa," Mamoru repeated, swallowing thickly, "please." He leaned over her, running a finger down her open leg. "Let me . . ."

She fell back with a sigh and the hint of a smile on her lips as Mamoru finally overcame his lingering demons and gave in to his desire.

He slowly licked along the neck he had been admiring, tasting the saltiness of her skin as his fingers traced closer and closer to her aching sex. He felt her shudder beneath his touch as he teased her, running his fingers along her upper thigh in light circles as she clung to him, her fingers biting into his arm.

Nibbling his way up her neck and along her jaw, he finally reached her lips to give her a searing kiss. Then, breaking the connection, he leaned back to admire her fully, wanting nothing more than to watch her come undone once he finally touched her.

"Mamo-chan, please . . ." she begged as she moved her hips in an attempt to get Mamoru's fingers where she wanted them.

He smirked as he lightly brushed her slick folds, earning a gasp from his beloved that shot straight through him. Feeling bold, he settled his palm against her mound and began to please her in earnest, slicking his fingers with her wetness before picking up where she left off, rubbing and teasing. As aroused as she had already been, it didn't take much effort for her to be writhing beneath him.

When he flicked the pad of his thumb over her clit, she gasped, her face alight with pleasure. He smiled down at her, watching her face change once again as he slipped a finger inside of her and stroked her slick walls. The moan he elicited then was deep and long, so unlike any sound he'd heard her make before. And when he worked his clever finger inside of her and ran his thumb over her clit at the same time . . . well, Mamoru wasn't exactly sure what types of noises Usagi was making as she rode his hand, aside from the fact that they were very good noises.

Soon her breaths were coming shorter, her moans coming quicker as she thrashed, tearing at his arm with her fingers in mindless pleasure. Finally, throwing her head back, she gasped as she came hard, her body seizing below him.

He desperately tried to sear the moment into his memory—the sight of the woman he loved utterly wrecked by his touch. She was flushed and sweaty and her hair was coming undone, but she had never looked more beautiful. It was better than any dream, any memory, for this was real and now and them. And after his fingers had brought her to peak again and she shakily pushed his hand away, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, kissing and nibbling as she came down from her high.

"Mamo-chan," she said after her breathing steadied, "I love you."

He smiled at her, looking flushed and sated and so unbelievably sexy beneath him, and leaned down to kiss her.

"I love you too, Usa."

He bent down and kissed her again, and it wasn't long before things between them grew heated once more. Soon her hands were wandering, grasping at his shoulders and hair, tugging at the hem of his shirt, which he quickly discarded. She bit her lip as she ran her palms up and down his toned chest, savoring the feel of his bare chest.

"Mamo-chan," she said as one of her hands wandered lower to hover over the rock-hard boner still encased in his pants, "may I . . . ?"

"Yes," he said, nodding frantically.

She giggled, then lightly ran her finger along the bulge, causing Mamoru to shudder above her.

"Why don't you lean back?" she suggested and he complied, shifting back onto the couch cushions as she crawled over him and began fumbling to undo his belt and pants. He reached down to help her, and was soon shimmying out of his pants, leaving just his straining boxer briefs between them.

Usagi reached out, experimentally trailing her fingers down his bulge. Mamoru hissed, leaning back into the couch. Feeling bolder, she palmed the outline of his dick more firmly, eliciting a moan from Mamoru. She moved her hand up and down, marveling at the way his dick twitched and throbbed as she teased and touched him, taking pleasure in the tortured sounds he was making. She started slowly but soon sped up until Mamoru grasped her wrist, stilling her movements.

"Careful, Usa," he said between breaths.

"I'm sorry Mamo-chan," she said as she pulled her hand away. "Did it not feel good?"

"It felt a little too good," he said, reaching out to cup her face reassuringly. "You have to go easy on me."

She smiled, once again placing her hand on him. "Like this?" she asked as she stroked him slowly but firmly.

"Y-yes," he said through clenched teeth.

"Why don't you take these off?" she said, tugging at his underwear.

Mamoru nearly tripped as he tried to rid himself of them as quickly as possible.

As he sat back down Usagi settled beside him, gazing at his hard cock. Though she had memories of Endymion's, finally seeing Mamoru's in the flesh was so much better. Simply put, he was perfectly breathtaking—and not a curve in sight.

But, more important, Usagi understood the enormous amount of faith and trust that Mamoru had placed in her to get to that point. What they had overcome that day blew Usagi away, and she was determined to show her gratitude.

She reached out, wrapping her hand around him. She marveled at the feel of him as she slowly pumped her hand up and down—how he could be so hard and yet feel so velvety smooth at the same time. Gradually she began experimenting, switching her grip and speed, tracing a finger around his head or along his shaft as he thrust into her hand. Every hiss and groan electrified her, urging her to continue.

Then, as Mamoru's breathing grew more ragged and his hips picked up speed, she leaned down to take him in her mouth, sucking him and swirling the tip of his dick with her tongue like a lollipop. Mamoru groaned, threading his fingers through her already-mussed hair.

"Oh god," he gasped. "Usa . . . I'm gonna come . . ." he warned her, but she only sucked harder. He groaned as he came, and Usagi drank him up as he spilled into her mouth until nothing was left. She was surprised at the taste—like saltwater taffy. He was a delicious treat.

Licking her lips she sat back up to find Mamoru utterly undone, still breathing heavily and collapsed, boneless, against the couch. She grinned and snuggled against him, feeling more content than she had in months as she listened to his breathing steady. They sat in silence, simply enjoying being near one another in the afterglow of their love.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi said after a few moments.

"Hmm?" he responded without opening his eyes.

"Thank you," she said as she rested her hand against his chest, "for trusting me today."

"Usa," he said, enveloping her hand with his, "I will never doubt you again."

As he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, her stomach let out a loud gurgle.

"Hungry?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah . . . I was pretty nervous earlier so I didn't really eat much at lunch."

Mamoru squeezed her hand, feeling guilty knowing that he was the cause of her nerves.

"How about we head to Crown and I get you anything you want?"

"Really?" she said, sitting up straight. "Anything?"

He chuckled. "Anything your heart desires, Usa."

She threw her arms around him, kissing him in thanks, then kissing him again because the first wasn't enough, and again and again just because she wanted to.

They would get to Crown . . . eventually.

Epilogue

"So then I told him, you like a shaved bush so much? Here's a razor. Start with your own."

Motoki snorted, shaking his head at Minako's tale. It had been a slow Sunday at Crown, but Minako was always willing to keep him entertained.

"Bet that shut him up," he said.

"Sure did." She smirked, stirring her milkshake with her straw. "Fuckboys are so predictable."

Motoki looked up at the sound of the arcade's doors opening. He smiled when he recognized Mamoru and Usagi, then did a double take when he realized his notoriously anti-PDA friend had his arm draped across his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Minako, check it out," he said, flicking his head toward the couple.

She turned on her barstool, freezing when she caught sight of her friends.

"Holy shit . . ." she whispered as a devious smile spread across her face.

"Guess they worked things out, huh?"

But Minako was already leaping off of her seat, grabbing a startled Usagi by the hand.

"Bathroom! Now!" she said, pulling her from Mamoru's grasp.

"Wait!" Usagi wailed as she was dragged to the ladies' room. "A cheeseburger! Motoki, I need a cheeseburger! And fries! And a chocolate—"

Her order was cut off as the bathroom door slammed shut.

Motoki smirked as Mamoru approached the counter and casually took a seat.

"Coffee, please, Motoki."

Motoki filled a mug as screeching emanated from the bathroom.

"So . . . how's it going?" he asked as he handed Mamoru the mug.

Mamoru smiled, taking a sip of coffee. "Good."

"Good, huh?"

"Yep. Good."

Motoki sighed. "Look, are you gonna give me details or do I have to wait to hear them from Minako?"

He turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening again, revealing a blushing Usagi and a very satisfied Minako.

"C'mon Mamo-chan," Usagi said as she reached his side, "let's go sit over there." She pointed to a secluded booth in the far corner of the arcade.

He wordlessly grabbed his mug, dutifully following her as she led him away from their friends.

"Oh and Motoki," she said, turning toward him for a moment, "make that fries, a chocolate shake, and two cheeseburgers. I really worked up an appetite today."

"You got it, Usagi."

He punched in her order, then looked over to the couple as they snuggled in their booth, giggling and whispering to each other. He shook his head, hardly believing his eyes.

"OK, Minako," he said, resuming his spot across from her. "Spare no detail."

"Oh, Motoki," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Have I got a story for you."

First of all, I cannot BELIEVE no one has said anything about the connection between the title and the Madonna-whore complex. S.M.H. (J/K I LOVE ALL OF YOU PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!)

Seriously though, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who encouraged me with this story. I can hardly believe so many people like it! ^^; I hope the more serious tone of this chapter didn't leave anyone high and dry. Writing this chapter was a lot tougher than the previous chapters, but I hope it delivered.

Also thank you to the two amazing women who helped me with this chapter. Who better to give feedback on smut than an actual sexpert, FloraOne? And Antigone2, thank you for the epilogue suggestion. It made this chapter so much better!