Once again I grace all of you with my presence, now all hail me!Hehehe . . . sorry, I'm *REALLY* happy today. You know why? Do you even care? Well to bad! I'm going to tell you anyhow! 1) I just ate a lethal dose of turkey and stuffing. 2) My book came in the mail today! YES! Lalalala . . . I'm singing the happy song!!!!! It goes like this! Oh yeah1 I have an editor! I just want to give em' credit! Thanks Kris! (The SEMI-official happy Fic' writers song) "La la la la la la la la la . . . Well! I'm as happy as a duck with bread! Or crackers if it's on a diet!, La la la la la la la la la . . .You know why I'm so happy? La la la la . . . I . . . am . . . in no way responsible for dub-bashing Sailor Moon that’s all DiC's doing say we rebel and take over the DiC world as one and UN-do all the damage!, La la la la la la la la la . . . I don't own Sailor Moon, but I don't care! You can criticize my song and I won't care!, You can make me soup and I won't care, cause' I really want soup, I don't have any money, that I do care about . . . so If your nice and friendly send me cash, credit, pin numbers to the addresses below . . . La la la la . . . E-mail: confused@crosslink.net Home(AKA "Snail-Mail"): 10570 Roosevelt Drive . . . . . . . . . . . ummmm . . . . La la la? Ahhhh . . . .SCREW IT THIS SONG SUCKS!!!!!" Okay, so that wasn't as happy as It COULD have been . . . especially the end part . . . now on with the story once again! Rated PG -13 (*SLIGHT* sexual talk nothing big! this is just a warning!)! Oh, yeah! The *ahem* "SONG" above does belong to me, if you want to use it (The chance of a snowball in hell . . .) write to me, I'll probably let you use it. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Who Says Mechanics Aren't Cute"by SailorAmi ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ After Darien, Chad, and Andrew's search for a Mustang came to an expensive end, the guys once again returned to the Arcade . . . Chapter 2: The Battle Royal ~*~*~Arcade~*~*~ The group sat in silence, staring apprehensively at one another. >From one set of eyeballs to the next, it was indeed a very intense situation. After what seemed like hours, but in reality was precisely two minutes, thirty-seven seconds, and eight milli-seconds . . . they got bored. "This is stupid! We're all acting like were five," Darien complained. "Yeah! What on earth were we thinking? Giving each other the 'Silent Treatment!' Next thing you know we'll be playing 'Shadow!'" Andrew piped in. Chad just gawked at them. "Chad," Darien asked. Converting his eyes from Andrew to Darien, Chad once again just stared numbly at them. "*sigh* Andrew and I just said that staring at each other is stupid so . . . KNOCK IT OFF!" Darien roared, as he reached across the table and smacked Chad up-side the head with a metal spoon that he had conveniently found under the table. "Really? Good. I was starting to get a headache," complained Chad. "Uh-huh. Okay, I'm just going to ignore your stupidity, for now," said a very irritated Andrew. The scraggly drifter looked at his friends in a bewildered state. Darien and Andrew sighed in frustration and began talking again, ignoring their ignorant friend. "Think we should put it in smaller words for him, Andrew?" "Naw, this way he'll shut up for a little bit." "Good point" "Now, how are we going to work this out," Andrew asked. "I dunno' it's hard. I mean you have Rita, Chad has Rei (SailorAmi: Poor Guy . . .) and I have Jakie. . ." "Yeah, I get your point. But Rita and I aren't doing too well. I love her and all, but she's like the town bike. Everyone has been for a ride, ya' know?" "Sadly to say, yes. She has hit on me more than once, used the worst pick-up line ever, too!" "WHAT!?! She hit on you, and it didn't even occur to you to tell me?" Ignoring his friend's current state of insanity, Darien went on with his story. "I think she said something like . . . 'Hi! I already have a boyfriend, but I'm in for a casual fling. Wanna go to a place a bit more comfortable?'" Andrew gaped in disbelief. "*MY* girlfriend hit on you, and you didn't tell me?!?!?" Andrew screamed in total outrage. "Didn't need to. You were sitting right beside me and you just minded your own business, pretending that you didn't hear anything. This happens five times a day, man!" Darien screamed at the blonde haired man. "Actually, eight times" "Well then, you my friend have a slut for a girlfriend" Their 'friendly' little discussion was cut short when Chad suddenly exclaimed, "HEY!!! I'M NOT STUPID!" Darien and Andrew looked over at the opposite side of the booth where their brown-haired friend sat looking at them with rage in his eyes. "We didn't say you were stupid! We said you were stu...pendis! That's right! STUPENDIS," Andrew shakily replied, hoping that his plan to once again entrap Chad deep into thought by using a word with more than one syllable . . . it worked. "Okay, now that that's over we can get back to business. Darien, BUDDY! Since you talked so nicely about *MY* girlfriend, it's only fair I compliment Ms. Jakie Beryl in the same way, right? Lets see . . . What about her scarves?" "What about them?" asked Darien. "All the time, morning, noon, and night she has on a scarf. Not only that, she ALWAYS wears the UGLIEST ones! Once you think they can't get any worse they do! I could stand the sheep-jumping-over-fences scarf, but kittens-in-a-basket-with-little-hats? IT'S TOO MUCH! Talk about a fashion accident! I think I need to go call the Fashion Police for this so that they could take her and her horrendous scarves away." Ignorant of their surroundings, a few curious spectators that remained in the arcade watched their little display of a show in complete awe and amusement. Darien was just about to respond to Andrew's rude comment when his pager went off. He glanced down . . . ~Darien's POV~ 'Hrm . . . '806-555-7834' huh? The guys at work must need something,' Darien thought as he looked up once more to see Andrew still mumbling incoherently about scarves with . . . purple sloths? And Chad still staring numbly off into space. "Look, Andrew, I gotta go. Something at the office. I'm going to call from my cell phone in the car on the way there, okay? We'll finish our 'Civilized Conversation' later" Darien got up and walked out of the Arcade into the chilly night air. He reached his car and waited until he was safely inside before picking up his cell phone; then proceeded to dial the office. He waited . . . one ring . . . two . . . three . . .fo- "Hello, I'm Doris of West Point Inc. How may I help you?" "Hi Doris? This is Darien. I'm just returning your page. What's up?" "Oh yeah! Ummm . . . a young woman called by the name of . . . Zeberina? Sertrini? Something like that. Gosh, sometimes I can't even read my own writing . . . Ser. . .Zeb? . . . No wait! SERENA! That's it! Serena Tsukino! She left a message here for you and a man named Chuck . . .Buck? . . . Brad . . .CHAD! Anyhow . . . I'll read it to you if you want "No, that's quite alright, thank you. I'll get the note when I return to the office" "Your coming back!? It's nearly ten thirty!" "I know." "Alright . . . well I'm leaving now, so I'll just leave the note on your desk, okay? And PLEASE go home and get some sleep, Mr. Shields!" "Alright, I will. Thanks for caring, Doris." "G'Night, sir." "You, too." Darien hung up the phone and drove to the office wondering what on earth that note said, and knowing Doris' handwriting, he would be up all night trying to figure out what it said. *~*~*~*~*~"The Office!~*~*~*~*~* After parking his car, Darien walked towards the elevator, pressed the button indicating 'Up' and proceeded into the elevator. The wait for the familiar 'ding' of the elevator when it reached it's destination, was in Darien's mind too short. ~Darien's POV in the elevator~ 'A note from Serena, huh?...and involving Chad? Weird, I was with him a while ago! Wonder what the note is about. Maybe, she agrees with me to take Andrew in to get a lobotomy. Considering how he acts now, I wonder what he'd be like with part of his brain missing. The question for the century, I suppose. Now back to the note' DING! "Huh?" ~Authur's POV~ Darien was snapped out of his dream-like state by the elevator coming to a halt. He walked out of the cramped space into the wide open space of the 35th floor. He passed by desk, after desk, after desk, after desk en route to his office. Finally, he approach a large, oak door with a gold trimmed ID plaque that read: 'Darien R. Shields CEO' ~Darien's POV~ After the long and exhausting trip from the parking garage to the elevator, the long and endless ride up, to the maze of twists and turns that the hundreds of desks made, I was relieved to see the familiar golden name plaque. I turn the brass knob, and walk into my office. Ahhhhh . . . my office. My home away from home. ~Authur's POV~ Darien paused to take a look around just to make sure Doris didn't decide to plaster post-it-notes everywhere in his clean, white office with little messages reading, 'Pike at suite eat cleanser' which later Darien found out meant 'Pick up suit at cleaners.' The cleaners had kept it so long that he had to pay twice as much for them holding on to it. He looked to the left side of his office and found that there was none of those neon yellow notes on the couch. To the right, he also found none on the book cases. Then, straight ahead, just above his desk. Puzzled by the fact that Doris left no Post-it-notes around, he suddenly recalled his original purpose at coming in the office. . . Serena's letter. Walking around his large, oak desk piled high with papers that he would later have to sign, he saw a piece of light green stationary with Ivy vines bordering around the note. He had traveled twenty miles just for this note. Picking up the letter he begins to read the sloppy, ineligible writing which resembled chicken scratch. 'Mr. Shrill, A grill named Zeberna called left the flowing massage: Hi! just collih' to sai tea card ointment for Brak is Oink. Eye asew made en apcointmint pour u on the nine teeth. Tank it Rally, say hi tou Namerou for ny! Oy! bee ti way, ni cucumber id (503) 555-0556.Clam cee! -Zeberna. He might be wrong, but that didn't make ANY sense. He pulled out his leather chair and began to 'Un-Doris' the note. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~A LONG time later~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ He looks up at the clock, 5:32 AM. FINALLY, after *6 1/2 hours* of TRYING to decipher the blasted note, he finally did it. Relief washes through Darien like the green earth after a soothing rain. He looks down at the 8" by 4" piece of paper that had put him through hell and reads it. ' Mr. Shields, A girl named Serena called and left the following message: Hi! Just callin' to say that the appointment for Chad's car is okay. I also made an appointment for you on the 19th. That's it really, say hi to Andrew for me! Oh, by the way, my number is (503) 555-0556. Call me! -Serena ~Darien's POV~ She gave me her number . . . she wants me to call her . . . breath . . .breath deep breaths . . . okay, what to do now? Now that I know what the note says I'll never get to sleep. Okay, Blake's is open from 7:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m., and it's 6:02 now . . . so, I'll wait 'til 6:15 to call her. *groan* Something tells me this is going to be the looooongest wait of my entire life. ~Serena's POV~ "BBBBBEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!!!!!" "Huh . . .?" I look up at my alarm clock, 5:45. Time to get up. Don't want to be late now. I hop out of my bed, grab my pink bathrobe and headed to the bathroom. After taking a hot, luxurious shower, I come out of my bathroom with my pink bathrobe with little white bunnies on and my hair wrapped in a white towel. I was just about done with drying my hair when I heard the phone ring. I pray that I wasn't too long in the shower and that Jay wasn't on the phone asking me why I wasn't at work. Well, only one way to find out . . . I walk into my small kitchen and pick up the white, cordless phone that was mounted on the wall, and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello, Tsukino residence. Serena speaking." "Ummm . . . Hi, Serena? This is Darien" 'Darien? OH my goodness! Okay. . . calm down . . . this is just a normal phone call . . . yeah, a normal call with a cute guy, that's all. The last time ANY guy called me was when one wanted me to switch phone companies . . . Oh! I'm taking way too long to answer! He'll think I died or something!' "Oh . . . Hi, Darien! What's up?" I say, trying to keep the surprise and nervousness out of my voice. "Nothing really . . . I was just returning the message you left me yesterday. And might I inquire on how you got my number?" "Don't you remember when I first talked to you in the lounge at the garage, you gave it to me so I could call you if there were any problems with the car?" "Really?" "Yep! You did! Oh, my!" I exclaim, suddenly realizing the time. "What's wrong?" He asks, concern evident in his voice. "I'm going to be late! If-you-want-to-talk-some-more-drop-by- Blake's-or-something-AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!-I'M-SO-LATE!!!!!!BYE!!!!!!!" I blurt out hurriedly. ~Darien's POV~ 'Beeeeeeeeeep.' 'Guess, she hung up. Oh well, she did say she was late. I did want to talk more to her . . . Oh well, I'll just use this as an excuse to go see her then.' I grab my jacket and keys and head out the door and start in the direction of Blake's Garage. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Who will get the wonderful Serena as a girlfriend? Will Darien get a secretary who has hand writing he can read? Will Serena make it to work on time? Find out some of these questions next time on Veggie Tales! . . .Wait a second . . .that's not right! Write me! I would love to hear from you, and if you take the time to write me, I PROMISE to write back!