---Chris Davies <cdavies@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca> wrote:

"You're going into battle without
any expectation of victory.  And frankly, when the stakes are this

high,

that's something no soldier can afford."

    "Pardon me, but I believed we were talking about matters of the 
heart," I slowly grated out.  I dislike being interrupted.

    "Love is a battlefield," she said, smiling.

<Mallets Davies on GP>

Oh yes, I think you're a decade off on the HIV thing.

<snip song>

   And her eyes closed, and she let out a single gasp of breath over

the 

harmonizing coo of the background.

*sniff*

   A woman stepped into view.  She had the most vibrant red hair I'd

ever 

seen, and was dressed in a blue sundress.  Her face was still and

shocked.

   
   Priss knew her, obviously, and just as obviously she had not

expected to 

see her under these conditions.

Understatement of the century 9_9

   "Friend of yours?" I asked, trying desperately to bring a little

light 

to our atmosphere.
   
   "Yeah," Priss replied.  "It's a long story."

Scratch that, this is.

   "Would you *please* let me apologize?" she snapped.
   
   "No," I replied.  "I can't, since I have more to apologize to you

than 

you do to me.  I have --"
   
   "You what?  Sylia, you just got dragged out of a hell on Earth! 

I don't 

expect you to be all flowers and milk of human kindness!"
   
   "*I* expect me to at the very least be *rational* in my dealings

with 

the woman with whom I'm in love!" I yelled.
   
   "And I expect me to at least be able to say that I love you, and I 
haven't done it even once, so so far we're equal!" she yelled right

back.

Sounds like a couple already....

   "You said ... that she was ..." Sylia said slowly.
   
   "Yes," I replied.  "I'm pretty certain that she was."
   
   "Then we've been brought together by a ghost," she said wearily. 

"I 

hate magic."

*sigh* I was expecting anything from Rally to Benten, but I swear I
_never_ considered that twerp until now.

    No, I'm not going to tell you all about it, because there's

nothing to

tell.  Sylia was ... very inexperienced, 

Somehow this completely fails to suprise me

    "Good morning," she whispered as I was embarked on this.
    
    "Do you have Mars' phone number?" I asked her absently.

Bad Sign(tm)

    "However," I interrupted, "I feel obliged to make certain things
*very* clear to you.  I no longer have any interest in or taste for

mecha

design, nor do I intend to pursue a career in the pure sciences.  If

any

of you entertain ideas about using me as a resource, I strongly

suggest

that you abandon them, *now*."

Ahh, trying to escape her father's legacy (and the fact that she
ruined 5 lives in the crusade he sent her on for nothing)....

    I smiled.  "I intend to become a private investigator."

... by emulating her mother.  Cute touch.

    Her green eyes met mine.  I began to get a sense of the anger

that she

bore towards *me*, not just as Priss' lover, but as one whom she held 
responsible for Nene's death.

This does not bode well.

    I met her gaze firmly, and she looked away first.

and this is impressive.

    "Ms. Stingray," the woman said, when her warm blue eyes met

mine, "it

is an honor and a privelege to meet you at last."

    "Thank you," I said reflexively.  "And you are?"

    "Uh, Sylia, this is --" Priss began.

    "No one of any great importance at the moment," the woman

interrupted.

*snicker*

    So I did the last thing that I ever expected to do.  I stuck out

my

hand, grinned, and said, "Thanks!" in a ridiculously cheery tone.

_This_ is an Odd Image

    The wedding?  It was a small, fairly quiet affair -- Serenity

nicely

asked the press not to make a big deal about the marriage of the

last two

Knight Sabres, and they obliged her. 

Scary part is, this probably _isn't_ because the one asking is the
Immortal God-Queen of the bloody world ^_^

    We kept our original names, with the understanding that any kids

-- 

which could be conceived via normal, natural mucking about with test

tubes 

and DNA, or through a few magical methods they had on hand -- would

have a 

choice of which of our names they'd take.

BTW, Sylia has a _long_ way to go before being anything like a fit
parent.

    I think the best of all the years are the ones where you're with 
someone you love, don't you?

*gags*

HTG (Who suspects Madam Vincent-Stengovitch is going to eventually
show up      somewhere in the 30th)
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