A/N: Written for StarlingSinclair for the Usamamo Spring Fic Exchange.

Apparently she's a sucker for fake dating! Please enjoy! ;-)

Chapter 1: Anything to Protect You

Mamoru had always had more than his fair share of attention from the ladies (and a few gentlemen if he was being honest). He never really knew what to do with any of it. He had dabbled once with a girl he had met through a shared lab section, but although he liked and respected her, he had never really felt a connection. They had parted on friendly terms.

None of that past experience had prepared him for Ginga Natsumi. Natsumi was a blood hound and she made him feel like he was prey in an open field with nowhere to hide. She showed up everywhere.

He had encountered her first at the student union at Tokyo University in between classes. She had plopped down next to him with a bright smile, and introduced herself as a freshman.

"I'm new here," she told him. "But you look like you know your way around. Would you mind helping a girl out?"

He had smiled. Motoki had told him he needed to work on being friendlier so he was trying that out. He hadn't thought sharing his name would be a problem. They had chatted for a few moments, before he had led her to the student information desk, so that she could get a more formal guide.

Really, speaking to her at all was the worst mistake he had ever made.

He hadn't thought anything of it at first. The brunette had just started popping up into his path. She was outside his lecture hall when his anatomy class got out. She was at the train station.

"Oh my god! You live in Azabu?! So do I! It's such a small world Mamaru-kun!"

He ran into her at the grocery.

"Mamoru-kun!" she crooned excitedly from behind him in line. "Fancy seeing you here. And we picked out the same ice cream flavor! Double chocolate fudge!" she exclaimed as if that alone was a sign of their everlasting compatibility.

He had given her a polite smile, paid for his food, and while she was trapped in her own transaction, made a point of not going home.

The next day, he had been in the library. He swung around between two shelves having retrieved four of the six reference books he needed for his paper, before he turned into her unfortunately familiar face.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this Mamoru-kun," she had said coyly, her long lashes fluttering over her piercing eyes. "I'm going to think you're stalking me."

And then everything got worse.

She would lean into his space, casually brush her leg against his own while on the train, or loop her arm through his own before resting her head on his shoulder. She became direct and bold, asking him out before describing in uncomfortably graphic detail the things she wanted to do to him.

He shuddered.

And no matter how many times he told her he was flattered but not interested, physically dodged her advances, or carefully peeled her off his arm, she didn't take a hint.

After three weeks of this, his skin crawled every time he caught so much as a glance of the predator. He was feeling increasingly stalked and trapped like he was some hunted animal. And when she showed up at the front of his building, he knew he was in trouble. But he didn't know what to do.

He was clearly in need of aid.

There was only one person in his life that he usually felt comfortable talking to about such things: Furuhata Motoki.

If it took him an extra hour to get to the Crown Fruit Parlor it was only because he was trying to lose his tail. But when he arrived Motoki's attention was completely unavailable, as he was trapped deep in conversation with one of their mutual friends, Tsukino Usagi.

Mamoru held a soft sport for the bubbly girl. She had been the volunteer at his bedside when he woke up with memory loss for the second time in his life. He knew from the first experience when he was six years old, that waking up alone and confused in a hospital bed could have literally been one of the worst moments in his life. But instead this explosive, loud, wonderful girl had been there.

She alone made the experience almost a fond memory. She had made him laugh as she told story after preposterous story guessing what could have happened in his missing month of memories.

"You love cats, right?" she had asked, as she fiddled with the ends of her long golden hair.

He had nodded, a huge grin spreading across his face, eager to see where she would go with this. The previous day, she had told him an adventurous tale of being an undercover spy that had infiltrated the yakuza.

"I bet you were running a cat orphanage out on the outskirts of town. You would go there every day and feed them. But the last time you were there, your favorite kitten - the little black one with tuxedo markings…"

"How do you know the little black one is my favorite? Maybe I like the little orange tabby," he offered with a smirk.

"Pssh, please," she waved dismissively at his mock objection. "Smart fancy guy like you? The kitty with the formal wear is definitely your favorite!"

"I see."

"So anyway, your favorite black cat was stuck in a poor thing was just mewling its heart out, and it being your favorite, you couldn't just leave it there, could you?"

"It would've been heartless."

"Exactly! So you climbed that tree and just after you reached the kitty, you slipped and fell, and hit your head. And that's how you lost your memory."

"How mundane," he commented dryly.

"But don't worry. You broke the fall, so your kitten was fine."

"How reassuring."

"I thought you'd think so!"

She had come back to visit him every day of his stay, and, when he was discharged, it was with a rock in the pit of his stomach that he said good-bye, fully expecting to never see her again.

He had been delighted to randomly run into her at the Crown Fruit Parlor less than a week later, and even more excited to realize they had a mutual friend in Motoki. They had an easy, teasing, bickering relationship. One where he gave her a hard time for being a klutz and she gave him hell for having a terrible memory.

She had made him feel like his memory loss wasn't the end of the world. It was something he could talk about rather than keep hidden. Like it was some personality quirk to tease him about rather than a tragedy to pity him for. She made him feel accepted and normal. So, he wasn't exaggerating when he said that random encounters with Usagi were always eagerly anticipated and covetted.

But then about a month ago, her entire demeanor had dramatically shifted. Sad mournful smiles replaced her former easy cheer. An inability to meet his eyes took the place of her biting teasing remarks. Her gaze now felt heavy, and old, as if she suddenly held the weight of the world on her shoulders.

He couldn't shake the gnawing sensation in his gut that something was horribly wrong.

He was worried that something had happened to her, but he didn't know how to ask. He didn't know how to support her the way she had supported him. When he had asked Motoki for his opinion, his friend had responded with confused, furrowed brows. Usagi was apparently as bubbly and happy as ever in his friend's eyes.

That was when Mamoru realized, and it was quickly supported by observation, that Usagi only grew quiet, contemplative, and sad when he was there. If she didn't notice him, she was more like the girl who had kept him company in the hospital. More like the girl he had befriended.

He didn't know what he had done, but he did know one thing - seeing Usagi so sad was a travesty, a crime against humanity, one he could not stand for. So, he did the only thing he could think of to fix it; he started avoiding her. He didn't want to see her eyes downcast, and he couldn't handle even the notion of being the one to trigger it.

From three booths away, he watched Usagi at the bar animatedly relate some misadventure she had had with her friends to Motoki, her smile stretched wide, her eyes bright with sheer, pure delight.

Mamoru sighed. If she saw him, that smile would evaporate like smoke. It would be best to leave, and come back after his afternoon class. He turned to leave, only to spot his dark-haired stalker right outside the large window peering at him with predator's eyes.

He whirled right around again, and walked right up to Usagi, interrupting her tale.

He looked into her startled blue eyes for a second, cupped her face gently between his hands, and kissed her.

He had meant for it to be a chaste, innocent kiss. Just a touch of soft skin to make a point to the terrifying woman outside.

But he had been unprepared for Usagi's response. She was like butter melting in his heat. Her fingers tightened into his shirt like a kneading kitten. She tasted like the chocolate milkshake she had been drinking and her lips felt as smooth and soft as silk. Tingles shot down his spine. Goosebumps broke out across his arms and neck.

He hadn't known that a kiss could feel this good.

"Guys! This is a children's arcade! Take it elsewhere!" Motoki chastised.

Mamoru pulled away reluctantly with a small gasp as he sucked in much-needed air. She mirrored his actions - her mouth hung open in an "o" of surprise. Her eyes opened slowly revealing wide orbs that were the color of afternoon sky on the clearest day. He could lose himself in their unending depths.

"Mamo-chan?" she breathed. "Do you remember?"

"Remember?" he repeated, confused, barely remembering why he had kissed her in the first place.

Natsumi! Right.

He glanced behind him to see if Natsumi had departed. She hadn't. She glared at him, her hands at her sides, curled into fists.

He turned away, and nuzzled himself to Usagi's ear. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

He pulled away just enough to take in Usagi's overblown eyes and flushed cheeks. He had done that to her.

She nodded rapidly. Her fingers quickly interlaced through his own. Nothing had ever fit so perfectly in his hand before. She guided him to the employee break room, a tiny space with a couch, a little round table, a couple of blue cubbies overhanging the seating area. It was thankfully unoccupied.

"I'm so sorry!" he blurted the second the door swung closed behind them.

"Sorry?" Usagi repeated, her hand pulled away from his grip. He suddenly felt cold.

"For kissing you."

"You're sorry for kissing me? Was it that bad?" Her mouth frowned and her eyebrows furrowed.

"What?! No, of course not. You're an amazing kisser!" He blushed at his own thoughtless admission, but that had been the best kiss he had ever experienced. Though he admittedly had a very small sample size.

"No, I just…" nervous fingers swept through his raven locks as Mamoru collected his thoughts. "I know we're not in a relationship or anything. I know you have no interest in me."

"I… what now?"

"I have a stalker." He could not get the words out fast enough. He had to make her understand. He wasn't the type of guy who just went up and kissed strangers. Or his friend in this case.

Her eyebrows furrowed deeply. "Huh?"

"I have a stalker. Her name is Ginga Natsumi and she will not leave me alone. Nothing I say or do seems to work to get rid of her. I was going to ask Motoki for advice, but you were there, and then she walked in. I was desperate. So, I kissed you… hoping that she would get the idea. But I had no right. I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

Usagi put a hand on his arm.

"It's okay Mamoru-kun. I understand. You're absolutely forgiven." Her blue eyes shined with sincerity.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Usagi-chan. Again, I'm really sorry."

"It's okay."

Silence fell, and Mamoru felt awkward. It was a familiar feeling to him. He often didn't know the proper way to interact in social situations, but usually when he was with Usagi she had a way of smoothing things out elegantly.

"Well, I guess… I should be going," he offered and turned back from the door.

"Mamoru-kun? Just one thing before you go."

He turned back around, and was shocked to find tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Usagi-chan?"

She shook her head. "Please be careful. Minako's had her fair share of stalkers. A stunt like that might just make your stalker more angry and more determined. Not less. She might have guessed that you did that only to throw her off."

Every muscle inside of him tensed. He didn't know how things could get any worse. Natsumi was everywhere and she didn't take no for an answer.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice broken and desperate.

She didn't say anything for several seconds. But she reached out, and placed a hand on his arm again as if she was trying to reassure him.

"I-if you wanted, we could keep pretending."

He looked up, startled. "What?"

"We could keep pretending to date," she clarified. "I could be your fake girlfriend."

Would that mean he got to kiss her again?

"That's incredibly kind of you to offer, but I really couldn't ask that of you."

"Why not?" she asked, as if she was offended that he wouldn't use her in this way.

He stared at her in shock.

She seemed to cave in on herself when he didn't respond. "Am I not attractive enough?" she whispered.

"What?! No! You're gorgeous!" The heat grew on his neck. Where was his filter today?! He needed it.

"Then why?" she whispered. Her gaze dropped to her hand, still on his arm.

He tilted her chin up to look up at him. "Because I respect you. I wouldn't want to use you or take advantage of your kindness like that."

Her eyes trembled, and for a second he thought she was going to cry.

"I didn't even think you liked me," she admitted softly.

"You were there when no one else was. Of course I like you," he was holding her hand again, against his chest like it was something precious he had to protect. "You're incredibly special to me. Which is another reason I wouldn't want to use you like this."

They were silent for a long time. And she eventually pulled her hand away again with a pink blush across her cheeks.

"I appreciate the sentiment Mamoru-kun, but stalkers are no joke. If things get worse, please promise you'll call me."

He stared at her, floored at her offer.

"I would do anything to protect you," she told him firmly, her eyes ablaze in fierce passion.

He was tempted to tease her a bit in that moment for going just a little over the top, but something stopped him. Her blue eyes spiraled, her jaw hardened in stubborn determination. She was so compelling, and he couldn't help but believe her.

He swallowed the sudden brick in his throat. And had to clear his throat before he managed to speak. "Thank you Usagi. I appreciate that."

"Motoki-oniisan has my number… If you need it."

Mamoru told himself he wouldn't take her up on her offer. He couldn't, though part of him wanted to. It seemed so unfair and one-sided. Like what would she even get out of the arrangement? He didn't have a whole lot to offer someone so bright like Usagi.

He hadn't thought things could get worse, but over the next two days, Natsumi proved him wrong again. Suddenly, he didn't run into her once or sometimes twice in a day. Now it was everywhere he went, she would be there too. She was at the Crown when he arrived, sitting in his usual seat looking perfectly normal and innocent. He turned around.

He went to class, and fifteen minutes into his first lecture she entered the room with a loud bang. His professor had snapped at her for disrupting the lecture.

She had simpered, apologized profusely, and took a seat… right by the exit.

When he tried to leave at the conclusion of class, she had blocked his path. Then she tried to kiss him. And when he dodged, her nails had dug into his wrist, preventing him from escaping.

"Let go," he said.

"Mamoru!" she gushed. "Don't be coy," she fluttered her eyelashes. "I saw you at the arcade. You clearly enjoy the attention of the female variety."

He twisted out of her grip, though it cost him three parallel gashes on his inner wrist. Thankfully, he made it back to the safety of his apartment without another encounter, but an hour later while relaxing on his balcony, he had caught sight of the brunette on the ground outside the complex, her gaze locked onto his.

His resolve to not ask for Usagi's help shattered.

Motoki had sent over the blonde's number without even asking why he needed it. Mamoru felt oddly irritated at his friend's lack of protectiveness over Usagi. But then, his friend had just witnessed him borderline making out with her three days prior, so...

"So… you were right," he spoke into his phone the second the ringing stopped.

"Hi Mamoru! This is actually Minako!"

"Hi Aino-san," Mamoru grumbled, letting his head thunk into the wall. It wasn't possible to know Usagi without the gaggle of friends that came with her. She was a beautiful and loving person. Of course she had a lot of friends. And out of all of them, Mianko was the one that seemed to have it out for him. He wasn't quite sure what he had done to offend the other blonde or if she just was merciless in her teasing, but she was highly skilled in ruffling his feathers.

"I don't suppose Usagi is around," he tried.

"She is! But I stole her phone, so that I could serve as her legal representative in this matter."

He snorted.

"She would love to be your girlfriend, Mamoru, but as her best friend and as someone with experience in these matters, I feel I need to be involved. We should all three of us meet up and discuss our story, come up with some pet names, pick a few times for you and Usagi to be seen together publicly, and most importantly, define some ground rules to protect you both."

Mamoru was rapidly feeling overwhelmed. "D-do you really think all that is necessary?"

"If you want to be believable," Minako quipped back. "And I want to make sure that you don't accidentally hurt Usagi. It's not always easy to keep yourselves sorted when you're pretending to be in love."

"Minako!" Usagi whined from the other end. "Let me talk to him!"

"This is for your own good, Usagi," Minako said. "So what do you say, Mamoru-san? Want to come over to discuss terms?"

He swallowed. This was suddenly more complicated than he anticipated. What was he getting himself into?

Still on the phone, he glanced down over the railing. Natsumi was still there.

"Yeah, that sounds good. When are you available?"

"How about now?"

"I'll be right over."

He just had to figure out how to get around Natsumi. The main entrance was out. He approached the fire escape without thought.

Then he caught himself. What was he doing?! Planning to leap across rooftops?!

…

A/N:

Next time, Minako meets with Mamoru and Usagi to discuss the guidelines and rules of fake dating!

Slight note, Usagi being a hospital volunteer when an injured Mamoru wakes up – I thought that was canon, so I didn't bother to explain it! Apparently, it's a leftover fragment from the DiC dub, which tore apart the last two episodes of the Dark Kingdom arc and pasted them back together. So, it's kinda canon, but apparently, it's only American canon. So, if you're unfamiliar with that, that's where it came from. Honestly, that scene has always stuck out to me in my memory, so apparently maybe the DiC did one thing (and I concede only one thing) right.

Special thanks to TinaCentury. She is the best beta and is so patient with my freak outs about deadlines and gets me writing again when I get stuck and gives such great insight on where I can flesh things out!

Reviews/Comments are love!