So, this wasn't technically going to HAVE a sequel, but so many people seemed to want one, so I wrote a quick little ... conclusion I guess.

I got a review asking for a fic where Usagi forgot Mamoru, and I have a fic like that already actually! It's called Forget Me Not and it's a few chapters long so you can check that out if you'd like :)

Thanks again to my beta Irritablevowel!

Be sure to head to her fic "Phantom" for a gripping, dramatic story that she just updated!

The late August heat was stifling, humid and heavy, but that didn't stop Usagi from draping herself over Mamoru's arm as they walked down the sidewalk. Not that he minded.

"I can't wait to see Mako-chan!" she was bubbling. "It's been, like, forever. She's been so busy between school and working at the cafe. Not that I'm complaining about all the free food but I super miss her. I love falling asleep on her chest, it's like a big, soft pillow. But, besides that, you know what I love best about Mako-chan?"

"What?" Mamoru asked, but Usagi was already going a mile a minute.

"She always smells so good. Like, even when we'd train together and we'd all get all sweaty and gross, she'd still smell like cinnamon sugar." Usagi wrinkled her nose. "I'd smell like a gym sock, she'd smell like a bakery. Me, gym sock. Her, bakery. How? She's, like, magic or something."

"Aren't you all magic?" Mamoru said, opening the door to the cafe for her.

"But how come she got the smells-like-sugar-magic and all I got was the save-the-world-multiple-times-over magic?" Usagi huffed, and Mamoru laughed as he followed her into the air-conditioned haven of the Starlight Rain Cafe.

"Mako-chan!" Usagi cried, as the tall brunette came out from the kitchen, covered in flour. Usagi barreled into her, and Makoto easily lifted the smaller girl up off her feet, laughing as she set Usagi down on the floor again.

"You two are my first customers today," she said. "Technically I let you in before opening," she winked. "I have some new recipes I've been trying, that I need some taste-testers for."

"Yey!" Usagi squealed. "I love being a taste-tester!"

It was two lavender-Earl Gray-infused cream puffs and a birthday cake-flavored macaron later that Usagi's phone pinged cheerfully from her purse. "Oop!" she said. "I'm supposed to be at study group now."

Mamoru put down his espresso and raised a brow. "Now? And it's twenty minutes away. No wonder you are always late."

She slid out of the booth. "That's twenty more minutes I get with you, and twenty less in study group. There's a method to my madness." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "That's Shakespeare, by the way." For a second he caught her scent - soft vanilla tinged with sweat from the hot summer day. It wasn't even close to a gym sock, he thought, no matter what she said. More like salted caramel...

"'Though this be madness, yet there is method in it'," he murmured, "is the real quote."

But she was already gone.

Mamoru was settling up the check with Makoto, (she tried to wave him off, and he insisted) when he happened to see his classmate Namiko walk by through the windows. She gave a polite wave, but didn't come in. Things had been a bit awkward since a couple months ago when she'd asked him out and he'd turned her down, and even though she brushed it off fairly quickly and apologized a few more times for not being aware of his long-term girlfriend, they'd both tended to avoid each other now. (Mamoru didn't consider it too big of a loss, actually, all things considered).

Suddenly, a strange sensation came over him and he blinked confusedly at the change Makoto was handing him.

"Everything okay?" she asked and he gave a quick shake of his head.

"I think so," he said. "I just had the weirdest feeling. Like deja vu or remembering a dream." It was just flashes at first: Usagi's eyes - fathomless and gorgeous - from across the cafe, then her dropping his gaze, his hands interlocked with another's on a table, the musky scent of shampoo from a dark-haired head against his shoulder under an umbrella. His stomach churned.

"Makoto, what...happened here? With Namiko and Usako and... me?" He looked up and Makoto's expression was similar to a deer in headlights. He knew she valued honesty above all else - this was a girl who hated to lie, and it was clear from the trapped look in her eyes that she knew she'd either have to lie or tell a truth she didn't want to.

"Uh... Well, you might want to ask Setsuna...?"

Setsuna. Mamoru enjoyed philosophical discussions with Setsuna, but trying to get a straight answer from her was a lot like trying to solve a crossword puzzle. In Ancient Greek. "I'm asking you," he said.

Makoto looked anguished. She glanced haplessly toward the door as if she could will Usagi (or hell, Minako, she'd delight in telling Mamoru all the details) into the cafe to save her from this. Now how did Ami put it when doing her best to explain her best guess at the mechanics of it all? "There was some sort of time bubble wherein you, uh..., weren't with Usagi. Or destined or fated or anything like that. You went on a date with some girl from your school, here at the cafe. Usagi - being Usagi - uh." Makoto shrugged at Mamoru helplessly. "Sat a few tables away and ate her weight (and then some) in desserts?"

Mamoru swallowed, still looking at the wall just over Makoto's shoulder like he was seeing a particularly gruesome ghost. "Did she cry?" he managed.

Makoto thought for a moment. "Surprisingly, I don't think so? She rage-ate a lot, though."

The pieces were falling into place faster than Mamoru could - or wanted to- keep up with them. Somehow, the single reminder and confirmation from Makoto had opened the flood gates to all the memories of the night. It was so, so strange, remembering the events of that day as someone who didn't love Usagi Tsukino, as someone who was single and attracted to some dull academic.

"She saw me hold Namiko's hand," Mamoru said, heart sinking. "Saw me smile at her..., laugh with her..." Then, a memory surfaced of the tempting swell of cleavage over a low-cut top.

oh god

"Makoto," he started, then swallowed, "this is sort of awkward to ask but, it wasn't obvious that I, uh," he cleared his throat and cringed, "maybe looked at Namiko a little, uh, too closely?"

Makoto looked confused for a moment before understanding clicked in her green eyes. "Oh you mean, stared at her boobs? Yeah. Namiko is no me, but girl was showing it off something fierce and well. It was pretty clear you were... appreciative."

"Tell me Usako didn't notice," Mamoru said, desperately. His precious Usako could be undoubtably oblivious at times, she hardly ever noticed when he blatantly checked her out, so please maybe this time—

"Didn't notice? Mamoru, hon, that accounted for about 1200 calories alone."

"Mamoru?!" He was aware of strong hands on his shoulders, holding him up. "If you are going to be sick, don't do it here," Makoto hissed in his ear - not unkindly. She half-guided, half-carried him out of the cafe and the blast of summer heat shocked Mamoru back to himself.

"Look," Makoto said. "It's over, no one remembers except us - that is, the girls and now you - and it was just a stupid little thing Sets probably did it to teach Usagi a lesson - Usagi, who, by the way, asked for it because she thought it'd be good for you, so just try to let it go."

"Let it go?"

"Usagi did," Makoto said, kindly. "After all, in the end, you ditched that college girl and ran after Usagi in the rain or some TV Drama-like nonsense."

He nodded, mutely. He remembered that as well. Blue eyes, wet hair, a dropped cell phone, a phone number scrawled in pen on his hand. His Usako, when she wasn't his. When she was a rainbow through a prism, a stray moonbeam - like if he breathed too loudly she might vanish and he'd never see her again, looking up at him from the bus stop, vulnerable, soft, gorgeous...

Makoto patted his back, in a way he knew wasn't meant to, but probably would, leave a mark. "Go home and get some rest. I'll send Usagi after ya." She turned and headed back into the cafe, pulling her cell phone out of her apron pocket. "Bet she's dying to get out study group anyway."

Usagi paced the elevator, counting off her game plan on her fingers.

Firstly, bring up how she was only doing what she thought was best for him at the time, and how Setsuna really misinterpreted things (blaming Setsuna was a bit of risk, as Mamo-chan had a soft spot for the lonely Senshi of Time, but she thought she could get away with treating it as a Giant Misunderstanding).

Secondly, point out that, while doing something that had the potential to affect their relationship without discussing it with him was certainly wrong, he'd also done similar things hadn't he? (Breaking up with her due to dreams, for example). And now they'd both learned Important Lessons. (Mamo-chan liked important lessons).

Thirdly, tell him she'd been punished enough by watching him walk off with that girl and torturing herself with thoughts of what might happen next, so no matter how angry he was, well, really shouldn't he be pitying her instead? Imagine if the situation was reversed!

Fourthly, remind him that it all worked out in the end.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened at Mamoru's floor. As she stepped out of the elevator, she unbuttoned another button on her blouse, and rolled up the waist of her skirt so the hem rode just a bit higher on her thighs - advantages where you can take them, after all.

She unlocked the door and stepped in. "Now, before you say anything Mamo-chan, I-... Mamo-chan?" The apartment was dark and seemed empty, but Mamoru's shoes in the doorway made it clear he was home. Usagi took off her shoes and padded her way into the bedroom. She found Mamoru lying on his back on the bed, one arm behind his head, looking at the ceiling.

"Hi," she said.

"Did I ever tell you about the pet bunny when I was a kid?" He was still looking at the ceiling.

She shook her head.

"They brought it to the home as a pet. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen, so soft and small."

"Mamo-chan, that's adorable." She matched his soft tone.

"I remember reaching out for it, being so afraid to startle it or scare it away - that it might run away or disappear if I did something wrong - that I ended up never petting it. Just watching."

"Mamo-chan."

"I felt the same way at the bus stop, watching you stand there in the rain. Like if I said or did the wrong thing - if everything didn't align exactly right - you'd vanish from my life. I'd never see the girl with the blue eyes and odango hair again." He paused, whispered the next part. "It was terrifying."

Usagi was pondering what to say in return when he continued, this time in more normal tone of voice.

"So of course, I didn't know your name and I'd been referring to you as 'Odango Atama' in my head the entire night and apparently the words 'Excuse me, Miss' had vanished from my brain..."

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he continued.

"And there you were, no umbrella or jacket, even though it was the middle of rainy season and the weather report had been very clear about the downpour. Furthermore, you seemed to have no idea how your soaking clothes were clinging to your body-"

"Pervert."

He made a face that could be construed as 'fair enough', and continued. "And all I could think about was getting you out of the street, to somewhere safe, and warm."

"So are you mad at me, or not?" Usagi asked. She tilted her head down to try to see his eyes, which were still looking up at the ceiling, lost in reverie.

"Oh, furious," he said, but his voice was so smooth and conversational, and she immediately doubted his sincerity.

Usagi leaned over him, trying to read the look in his eyes. As soon as she did, he put his hands on her upper arms and pulled her down on the bed in one quick, smooth movement. She let out a shriek, as she bounced once on the soft pillows next to him. He shifted over her, his eyes looking into hers intensely.

"Don't ever do that again, Usako."

"Oh I won't," she said, pointing a finger into his chest. "Trust me, watching you with her was torture!"

"Thinking you might get out of my car and disappear from my life forever was torture!"

"Mine was worse!"

"Oh, really?"

"Imagining what you were doing while I was standing at the bus stop..."

"What I was doing was watching you, trying to work up the nerve to say something-"

"And staring at my wet clothes, apparently."

"I will not dignify that with an answer."

"Mamo-chan," she huffed. "I did give you my number in the end, didn't I?"

"And you wrote it on my hand," he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. I sort of wondered if that'd be a deal breaker," Usagi said. She picked up his hand and traced her finger along his palm, thoughtfully. Mamoru didn't bother to fight the pleasant shiver that ran along his body as she did so. "But since you woke up with it the next morning, it must've survived the time bubble because it was on your skin. You didn't wash it off your hand?"

"I think I decided I was never washing my hand again."

"Ew!" she giggled, and he grabbed her waist, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Want to make it up to me?" He murmured in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers rested on the waistline of her skirt.

"Okay," she breathed, shutting her eyes as he left a light kiss just behind her ear.

"Alright," he said, "then stop skipping your study group."

"Mamo-chan!"

The bit about the bunny was inspired by Floraone's fic Becoming, and used with permission. Definitely worth reading!