Autumn

Makoto took one more deep, scent-filled breath before she unlocked the door and entered the one place that was hers, even more than the small apartment she now lived in. She switched on the lights and the radio for company, and started pulling down the chairs and the chilled dough from the refrigerator.

As she hummed along to the music, her strong, unadorned fingers kneaded and flipped the dough with smooth, competent movements. The critical expression on her face as she assessed the temperature and texture of the dough turned into a bright smile whenever she looked out the windows at the fall foliage. The little Davis girls who lived next door might not be looking forward to the start of another school year, but Makoto was always eager for any sign that autumn was on the verge of returning.

In the spring, the gardeners have their say, like fickle perfumers who never create the same scent twice. Every day a different fragrance fills the air, diffused from the ever-changing configuration of flowers in bloom.

Fall, though – fall is for the bakers. It's the time when the leaves on the trees are painted with russet apple red, butter yellow, pumpkin orange, and cinnamon brown, when the fragile beams of sunlight seem as delicate and golden as egg-washed pastry browning in the oven. The crisp breezes, hurried along by their sugared edges of morning frost, are willing conspirers. As they swirl around each other through fruit-laden branches, curling squash vines, and crunchy piles of leaves in their ceaseless game of tag, they waft the tantalizing smells of smoky wood chips, roasting nuts, and fresh-baked breads and pastries straight to eager noses.

At five to seven, Makoto washed her hands and walked over to flip the wooden sign painted with cheerful pink roses from "Closed" to "Open." There was no one waiting at the door today, but that was the exception rather than the rule – these days, she usually found a few hopefuls in advance of the early morning crowd. When Makoto puzzled over why her rather ambitious attempt at opening a combined bakery and florist's shop had achieved success so quickly, each of her friends had a different response.

Usagi , with her mouth full of whatever had just come out of the oven, was of the unshakable belief that Makoto's cooking was the best in the entire world, and that other people were just recognizing this simple fact of life.

Minako insisted that it was the unbeatable combination of Makoto's gorgeous smile and her lemon poppyseed muffins, cranberry tea bread, and triple chocolate Struck by Lightning cookies… and would she please be able to spare three of the tea breads and half a dozen each of the muffins and cookies for her work meeting today, thank you so much she was a life saver, and she promised to give Makoto more notice next time. And maybe Makoto could give her another ivy plant since hers had died again. Makoto didn't mind these last minute requests quite so much because well, it was Minako, and that was just the way she was about anything that didn't involve senshi business, and the blonde sent plenty of customers her way through her enthusiastic recommendations. Of course, that didn't mean she was willing to bend on the ivy plant – Minako was hopeless with plants, and Makoto wasn't sure she could be rehabilitated.

Rei spent a moment sighing over Minako's and Usagi's habits before offering her opinion, which was that Makoto's food was lovingly made with the best ingredients and her flowers were grown with care and respect, and it was these things which refreshed and infused the spirits of her customers for the rest of the day. She then took the single bite of the honey- and nut-filled baklava she allowed herself and closed her eyes in blissful satisfaction.

Over her cup of fragrant orange tea, Ami smiled her gentle smile and told her that she had a good business model and provided consistently excellent food and service. Mamoru looked up from his third and best cup of coffee of that day and said simply, "You make your customers feel like they're at home."

Her eyes filled, but they shared a smile of perfect understanding before Makoto returned to the kitchen to rescue her latest batch of blueberry scones from the oven. When she glanced back, she saw Usagi take Mamoru's hand, and he dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. She smiled, and she saw that the other senshi were, too – life was finally settling into the way it was supposed to be.

She was just stepping out of the refrigerator that took up an entire wall of the florist area when she heard the cheerful tinkle of the hand-strung wind chimes over the door, followed by the sound of shoes scraping politely on the mat. The steps were filled with a buoyant expectancy, as feather-light as the puffs of her profiteroles. Here was someone looking forward to good things.

Makoto looked down at her watch and smiled. As usual, he was right on time – which for Mamoru meant ten minutes early. She wondered how he was able to keep that up in the hospital, with its notorious waiting times. After setting her armful of chrysanthemums in a temporary holding vase, she headed back to the bakery counter and pulled out the cake she had been keeping an eye on all afternoon. It was a circular German chocolate cake covered in vanilla bean frosting and topped with piped pink peonies and candied orange blossoms. Makoto fussed with the orange blossoms one last time, making absolutely sure everything was in place. After all, this cake was the embodiment of her most heartfelt blessings to her prince and princess, and she had probably spent as much time coming up with the design as Mamoru had in choosing the ring. The orange blossoms stood for innocence and eternal love, and the peonies were a wish for a happy marriage and a happy life, the things she thought they most deserved.

"That looks beautiful, Makoto. Too good to eat."

She looked up into Mamoru's midnight blue eyes, noticing that he looked a little more anxious and a lot neater than usual, but otherwise he was the same kind, noble prince they had always known. "I appreciate the compliment, but what would make me happiest is if you do eat it! Not that I have any doubt Usagi couldn't eat the whole thing by herself."

He nodded in agreement, having seen his dainty fiancée do such a thing before.

Makoto took her time settling the cake in its white box with the bakery logo stenciled on top. "We're all so happy for you two. I think we're almost as excited as you to see it happening at last."

"I'm a little nervous," he confessed.

She looked up in surprise. "What's there to be nervous about? Of course she'll say yes."

Mamoru smiled, reassured by the confidence she had in him. "You're right. I do know. But I just want everything to go perfectly this time around."

"It will." She tied the pink satin ribbon with a flourish. "There. Chocolate cake for the perfect finish to a picnic and proposal. All that's left is a giant bouquet of red roses – but you can take care of those yourself, can't you?" She winked at him.

"Absolutely." He took the wicker basket and box from her with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Makoto."

"Tell Usagi to stop in and show me the ring tomorrow, all right?" She had been resisting the urge – just barely – to ask to see it now, but only because she thought Usagi should be the first to see it.

"I will."

When he opened the door, Makoto could have sworn she heard the silvery peal of wedding bells instead of the sweet everyday tones of the wind chimes.

AN: First attempt at writing a more Makoto-centric fic. Shitennou make their first appearance in the next chapter. The whole thing should be short and sweet and finished by October. Thanks for reading and reviewing!