:From: Richard Lawson <sterman@sprynet.com>

:I have deliberately left off the series tag; I want to know how long it 
:will take you to get it.  It's not Ranma, I'll tell you that much.  I'd 
:be interested in knowing when exactly you figured out who "she" is.

All right, I'll tell you.

:I'm wavering between "The Cycle" and "The Next Cycle" or scrapping both 
:for a better title.  Your thoughts appreciated.
:
:This is an experiment in writing for me.  I tried for a more 
:stream-of-consciousness approach and, I think, mostly failed.  I may 
:change this all to past tense.  Let me know what you think.

:
:The Next Cycle
:
:by Richard Lawson
:
:sterman@sprynet.com
:
:
:The breeze brushes softly against her skin.  She shivers, not because 
:she feels cold, but because she feels *good*.
:
:She is walking through the night, through the rustling sound of the 
:leaves, the sound of falling water drifting pleasantly in her ears.  On 
:the path that goes around the park lake, her shadow rises and falls as 
:she passes under the lamps.  What makes it all a miracle is that it is 
:not one shadow but two that precede her.
:
:She finds that the contact of hands is not enough.  She leans, and her 
:forearm touches his, skin on skin, then her bare upper arm against the 
:cloth of his shirt, shoulder against shoulder, her head tilting against 
:his, for they are nearly the same height.
:
:He makes a small sound of pleasure, between a sigh and a groan, and it 
:fills her with such warmth, to know that he enjoys her touch as much as 
:she enjoys his.

Um... yeah.  So.  They're in love.

:"Eighteen months?"  His voice is full of wonder.  "Can it have been 
:eighteen months?  It seems like eighteen minutes.  Or eighteen years. 
: I can't tell."

:She chuckles, because she knows he is trying to be cute.  He thinks he 
:is quite funny, and sometimes he is, and sometimes he isn't.  She loves 
:that about him, loves that he treats life in such a carefree manner, 
:and tries to put humor in everything around him.

"I love it that you aren't as funny as you think you are."

:He put humor in *her*; she was so serious and fearful before he came 
:into her life.  Before he *became* her life, before he put life into 
:her.  He notes that it has been eighteen months since they have been 
:married, but she counts time differently; it has been thirty-five 
:months since they met, thirty-five months since her life began.

Remember, girls, life begins when you meet your man.

:She cannot stand it anymore, and stops.  He stops with her, and they 
:seem to melt into each other her lips on his, the feel of his body 
:pressed to hers, it stills feels as wonderful as it did the first time. 
: This kiss goes on and on, a reminder of passions past, a taste of 
:passion yet to come.

I take it back.  They're not in love.  They're in Luuuuuvvv.

:Finally he separates, smiling, sharing with her the private joke that 
:the physical intimacies of their marriage always start with her, that 
:she takes him and draws him in.  She acknowledges his observation by 
:touching the tip of her nose to his and batting her eyes.

What, they're telepaths, now?

:He laughs out loud at her playfulness.  Then he puts his hands on 
:either side of her head and kisses her cheek.  He then puts a small 
:distance between them, enough for a conversation to fit.  "I love you."
:
:"I love you too."  Love seems too small a word for what she feels, but 
:it will do until a better one comes along.

The sap riseth.

:"It's been so wonderful.  Our marriage, I mean.  I want..."  He trails 
:off, uncertain.
:
:And her stomach twists and her heart begins to hammer, because she 
:*knows* what is coming next.  She wants to rewind the clock, to begin 
:the last minute over and find a way to distract him and forestall the 
:inevitable, but it is too late.  He is going to ask, and destroy her.

"So... honey... did you buy the milk?

"NOOO! <sob>  I forgot!  Please forgive me!  I'm an unworthy person
I'mnotworthyofyourlove...."

:"I mean... can't we... I... it's time."  He swallows.  "I know you keep 
:saying not yet, that you're not ready.  But... there's no need to wait. 
: Both of our jobs are going well, we have some money.  We can... 
:there's this nice little house I've been looking at..."  He looks 
:deeply into her eyes.  "Big enough to fill a family with."
:
:She looks down, not able to meet his gaze.  She can deny him nothing, 
:she has denied him this for so long.  Here, in this park, by this lake, 
:at this moment, her life has become heaven and hell all at once, it has 
:been so all along but never more so than right now.

I take it this means she can't have kids.  

:Her eyes begin to burn with unshed tears.  She fights them, for she 
:will not spoil the moment more than she has to.  "Please, I..."  She 
:can deny him nothing, she has to deny him this.  "Give... give me some 
:time to... to think."

This entire scene is ludicrously overwrought.  Lay off the emotional
sledgehammer, okay?  

:His disappointment hits her like a knife in her heart, she can feel it 
:in the way he slumps his shoulders ever so slightly, retracts his hands 
:a fraction of an inch.  He quickly resumes his normal, confident 
:manner, but she knows the hurt is still there.  "Of course.  Take the 
:time you need."  He kisses her cheek again, then turns and they begin 
:walking again, hand in hand.

"Yeesh.  I ask my wife if she wants kids and she acts like I want her to
take a bullet for me."

:But the mood has been spoiled, and she desperately wants to recapture 
:it, but it has been gone and she waits...
:
:---
:
:...for the doctor as he examines the papers in front of him.  She has a 
:sense for these things, having been in this situation before.  She is 
:certain he knows what the papers say already and is trying to find a 
:way to tell her.  But she holds on to her hope and waits for him to 
:tell her that all is well and life is wonderful.
:
:The doctor looks up at her finally.  "I have consulted with some of my 
:colleagues on your case, and found to my surprise that they knew you 
:already.  Surely what I am about to say is no surprise."

"You are a deeply neurotic woman.  I recommend counseling."

:The hope shatters and she draws a deep shuddering breath.  Please, let 
:him tell me what I need to hear.
:
:His voice is full of regret.  "It's congenital, you see.  There is 
:nothing... nothing that can be done.  I'm sorry."
:
:Sorry, they all are sorry, as if it were their fault, but is her fault, 
:it is her *fault*, a fundamental flaw in the way she was made.
:
:"Could you... implant something, a fertilized egg or..."
:
:"No.  Surely this has been explained to you.  It's congenital, you 
:see." 

So?  "Congential" simply means she was born with it.  

: He drops the papers on the desk.  "You have alternatives, you 
:know.  Adoption-"
:
:She surges to her feet.  "Thank you, doctor."  She whirls and leaves 
:the office before she can spend another second looking at the pitying 
:expression on his face, the sympathy that kills her rather than 
:comforts her.

Lady... get over yourself.

:Adoption.  Adoption is so easy.  It only takes years and years and 
:hundreds of thousands of yen, but it does happen.  Of course, a family 
:has to be deemed worthy.  It has to pass certain tests, withstand 
:extreme scrutiny, be found *clean*...

"And they'll never find me clean!  I'm filthy and disgusting!  I cheated on
that math test in third grade!" 

:She sobs in the elevator.  The other people in the elevator look 
:embarrassed and turn away.  She ignores them, for she has seen such 
:behavior before.  Instead she takes deep breaths to control herself.
:
:It works until she gets outside.  The sunshine is too much, it hacks at 
:her and she begins sobbing again.  

I hate the sunshine.  It gets me down.
     -from _Joe Vs. the Volcano.

:Why does it have to hurt so much, so 
:much.  She runs down the street, oblivious to everything around her.
:
:A screech of brakes and the honking of a horn cause her to freeze in 
:her tracks and look.  A car has stopped not more than a foot or two 
:away.  The driver is shouting at her.  She looks at the woman, then 
:looks to see the child sitting next to her in the passenger seat.  She 
:cringes and runs off, runs and runs.  She comes to a bench somewhere, 
:she doesn't know where, and she falls into it and cries.

"WAAAAAAHHH!"

:The doctor was right; she *did* know.  She'd known it from shortly 
:after her first exam by a gynecologist.  And she had denied it, 
:pretended it didn't exist, hadn't even told her parents.  The less she 
:thought about it, the more it didn't exist.  She'd certainly had other 
:problems to worry about.

Yeah?  Like what?

:And then she'd met him, the person she'd fallen in love with, the 
:person who'd shown her what love is, had shown her something she hadn't 
:thought really existed.  And early on it became clear that this was a 
:relationship that was rocketing towards marriage.
:
:She'd begun her quest then, hopping from doctor to doctor, each of them 
:telling her the wrong thing, the answer that wasn't true.  For she knew 
:that marriage was only an intermediary step, that beyond it lay another 
:kind of relationship, one that started with two people and became more. 
: And she couldn't marry him if it lead nowhere, she knew he'd wanted 
:more, that his vision of the future included more than just her.

Not that she ASKED him or anything...

:But the time had come when he had asked her, had expressed an epic love 
:for her, had told her that she was all to him, that wonderment lay in 
:their future.  And that had been his gift, that words reached in and 
:touched her, and while he stumbled sometimes over them, he found ways 
:to slip them past her defenses and into her heart.  And she had found 
:herself agreeing to marry him, despite her resolve, despite not telling 
:him.

Silly girl.

:For months, a year, it had been bliss, a happy dream, a perfect life. 

"I've got my man!  <giggle>  What else do I need?"

: And then he had begun to ask, to talk excitedly of things she was 
:incapable of producing.  The bottom had begun to fall out of her 
:paradise, and she kept trying to stave it off, stave off his questions, 
:always asking for more time, finding excuses why it shouldn't be now.
:
:But the excuses were wearing thin, and she couldn't put it off any 
:more.  Put him off any more.  He would find out, and then he wouldn't 
:want her, and then her life would leave her.  So she mourned, mourned 
:the end of happiness, of the lives going and the lives never to come.

You know, Richard, the more you try to pump up the story with overblown
prose like that, the more absurd and contemptible this woman seems in
comparison.   

:After a time the tears stopped flowing and she brought herself under 
:control and looked up...
:
:---
:
:...into his face.  His face that was so worried, she wondered how long 
:he would continue to worry about her.  "What's wrong?"  Concern, and 
:fear, poorly masked by a voice trying to be firm.
:
:She smiles, but it feels false, it feels like lying, and she hasn't yet 
:lied to him, just withheld her secret, the biggest lie of all.  "I... 
:it's just..."  How to say it, how to begin destroying his happiness and 
:hers.
:
:"Please."  He leans forward to take her hand.  She takes a step back, 
:bumping against a table in the living room, the tiny room that they 
:took such pride in decorating when they first moved in.  He is puzzled 
:and hurt, and looks at her strangely.

"Why are you acting like Sailor Moon?"

:She looks down at her feet, for she is so frightened, this is so 
:terrible, why please why.  "I have s-something to tell you."  Please, 
:she'd cried enough today, no more tears, please.
:
:"Oh!"  His voice is full of comprehension, of sudden understanding. 
: "Is this about your secret?"
:
:She looks up, startled.  He knew?  "You knew?"

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Naah.  I thought I'd let you stew in your own juice for a while."

:He smiles gently.  "Before we were married, my father ran a check.  He 
:confronted it with me the day before the wedding.  He thought that 
:would put an end to things."  He shook his head.  "Father knew so 
:little of how much I loved you.  I couldn't care less if some 
:narrow-minded people - like my father - consider you 'unclean'.

Burakumin!  I get it now!

:It  means nothing to me.  You... you mean everything to me."
:
:She gapes, her emotions a whirl.  He had it wrong, he had gotten it 
:wrong, that wasn't it at all, oh please...

No?  What, then?

:"Please don't feel bad that you didn't tell me," he goes on, 
:misunderstanding her expression.  "I knew that you were probably scared 
:to tell me at first because I might want to have nothing to do with 
:you.  And then you didn't want to tell me because you thought I'd be 
:upset that you withheld it from me."  He reaches out to her, not quite 
:touching her, an invitation.  "It doesn't matter, love.  Only you 
:matter, the person you are, the love we have.  Let's move beyond this. 
: Our children will have no taint, I'll make sure of that."

Now we're getting weird.

:Oh God.  He was so right, and so wrong, so forgiving, but condemning 
:her without knowing it.  She can't stand it, it is too much, and she 
:turns and runs from the apartment, surprising him, his shout fading 
:behind her.
:
:She flees and leaves her life behind her and runs...
:
:---
:
:...and runs and she has been running for hours, coming to a rest and 
:sobbing for a while before the guilt catches up to her and she has to 
:flee again.  The darkness has been growing and now it is night but she 
:can still see the road and she runs down it.
:
:She comes upon a park and maybe it is the same park and maybe it's a 
:different park and she doesn't care, she runs through it and comes to 
:the edge of the water and falls to her knees.

:How can she go on?  She is lifeless, life cannot begin in her, she 
:cannot give life to her husband like he has given life to her.  Misery 
:is coming, it is descending upon her, it has already claimed her and 
:she can do nothing to keep it from claiming him as well.
:
:She looks out at the pond and wonders how deep it is.  Surely deep 
:enough.  He would still know misery, but at least he wouldn't hate her. 
: It is the only way she can think of to keep him from hating her.

:She stands up, takes a step, then falls to her knees again, the water 
:soaking through her skirt.  She cannot do it.  It is wrong, and even if 
:she knows all about committing sin, she can always hope to keep from 
:committing more sin than necessary.  No more sins, sins are evil, she 
:has already caused too much evil, she will not cause more.  If there is 
:any lesson to be learned, it's that she must sin no more.

BZZZT!   These are explicitly Christian thoughts, and Christians are a tiny
minority in Japan.  If you want to establish that this character is
Christian, this is the wrong way to go about it.

:But was it so bad to want happiness?
:
:The water is dazzling her eyes.  The moon is full and reflecting 
:tremendous amounts of light off the lake, making her eyes water.  She 
:looks up at the moon in the sky, it is like a spotlight, shining on 
:her, laying her soul bare and examining it.  She spreads her arms wide, 
:letting it pass judgement on her, hoping it will give her strength to 
:deal with the pain ahead.  She must be strong, she must endure, life is 
:important, she must not waste life, for if her body cannot create more 
:life she must find other ways of giving life to those around her.
:
:It is a nice resolve.  She tries to hold onto it.  Perhaps it will 
:become the basis for her new life, the life that will no longer have 
:him in it.

She's STILL being silly.

:And her heart squeezes and she clutches herself.  She looks into the 
:moon and begs.  Please, he deserves better than what is to come.  I 
:deserve punishment, I know that, but he does not.  He is kind and 
:loving and forgiving and the best of men.  He loves, and is capable of 
:raising such love in others, he needs new souls to show how to love. 
: Please, if not for me, then for him?
:
:She and the moon look at each other for a while.
:
:And then a strange kind of peace settles over her.  There is something, 
:a presence, that enters her and speaks soothing words.  "Be at ease, 
:dear.  Oh my, you feel so strongly and deeply.  Such love in your soul, 
:causing you such pain.  It should not be so."

I hope this isn't going where I thing it's going.

:She should be frightened, she thinks.  Voices in her mind, speaking to 
:her.  But the presence is so gentle and serene, she feels nothing but 
:peace.  "Who are you?"
:
:"Someone from a long-forgotten past.  The last remnant of a race that 
:stood before evil and overcame it, but at a cost.  We bought for the 
:Earth its future, but at a terrible cost."
:
:She does not know what to say in response to that other than, "Thank 
:you."

:The presence sends silvery laughter along her mind, tinged with 
:sadness.  "Thank you, dear, for your consideration.  You are kind.  And 
:wise and strong.  

I beg to differ.

:And good, most of all good.  I have need of someone 
:like you."
:
:"You do?  For what?"
:
:"To bear my daughter."

Well, this does explain where Sailor Moon gets her sappy stupidity.

:The words freeze her mind.  It stops thinking, and all she can do is 
:feel her heart pounding.  When it begins working again, she is still 
:afraid to move or speak, for fear of what cruel joke the words will 
:play on her next.  Still, she *must* know.  "You want me to... to have 
:a child?"
:
:"To have my child.  The evil that destroyed my kingdom and nearly 
:devoured the world is rising again.  It is time to bring for the 
:Warriors once again.  Most importantly, my daughter must live again to 
:lead them and save the world and bring it once more to paradise.  But 
:it must all begin with you."

"Blessed art thou among women.  Thou shalt bring forth a daughter, and thou
shalt call her name Usagi.  And she shall be whiny and insipid, and she
shall someday rule the world.  HAHAHAHAHA!  Ooops..."

:Her breath comes with difficulty.  She answers in a small voice, "Me?"
:
:"Someone must teach my daughter the right things.  She will face 
:fearsome creatures and fight many dangerous battles.  If she is to 
:succeed, she must know how to overcome those obstacles."
:
:She thinks that perhaps the presence has found the wrong person, and 
:her nascent hope begins to fade.  "I, know nothing of battles or 
:fighting.  I... I'm not sure I could teach her those things."

"Hell, I don't even have the courage to tell my husband I'm barren."

:The presence laughs again, and this time it is tinged with affection. 
: "It is not the tactics of war she needs to learn.  Others will guide 
:her in that respect.  No she must overcome her obstacles the same way 
:you overcame yours:  with love."

"Point?  Hello?  I've just run *away* from my problems."

:She feels the tears begin to fall.  Can it be?  Is this right?  She 
:wants very much for it to be true.  "What must I do?"
:
:"Dear, you must understand."  The voice is more serious now.  "My - 
:*our* - daughter will be in danger when she comes into her power.  She 
:will constantly be under attack, and will know few moments of peace. 
: While I want you to be there to give support, guidance, and love, you 
:must not interfere.  You must not do anything to keep her from her 
:finding and fulfilling her destiny.  It may squeeze your heart to see 
:her in danger of her life.  But, if what I have seen here is any 
:indication, it will not *break* your heart.  You must show the strength 
:you showed tonight during the times to come, and let our daughter do 
:what needs to be done."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I showed *strength* tonight.  Yeah, that's it."

:The presence fills her strongly, and its words resonate throughout her. 
: "Can you accept this?"
:
:She wants to blurt out the answer but pauses for a moment.  What the 
:voice says sounds like it would be difficult.  Maybe even hellish.  She 
:tries to imagine a daughter charging into battle, and her mind cringes 
:at the thought.

She was used to that, however, as her mind cringed at every thought.

:Her mind also imagines her daughter.  Just her daughter, a child to 
:raise.  She imagines she and her husband and her child all together, as 
:a family, laughing and loving together.  And that image is worth any 
:price.
:
:Almost any price.  "Can... can you assure me that she won't die?  That 
:she won't be sacrificed to bring this paradise about?"
:
:The presence sounds a little sad, and a little grim.  "I cannot offer 
:assurances.  She may indeed die, and her risk will be greater than any 
:other's.  But I can say that there is hope.  A good hope that she will, 
:indeed, succeed against the challenges to come.  Succeed, and live, and 
:prosper."
:
:She sighs and covers her face with her hands.  What good to have a 
:daughter, only to see her die?  No parent should outlive their child.
:
:But any child might die, there was a risk inherent in bringing life 
:into the world.  And the voice has said that her potential daughter 
:must be taught love, how to love and how to share love, in order to win 
:the wars to come.  

I've heard of the phrase, "make love, not war,"  but...  "make war with
love?"

:And se can think of no one better to teach love than 
:her husband.  He is so full of love, so capable of sharing it.  Surely 
:her daughter will be filled with it, too.
:
:"Do not downplay your own gifts, dear.  Love does not flow just from 
:one person, but feeds in a loop and grow with each iteration.  Your 
:heart is just as capable of love, and equally able to share it.  I have 
:no doubt that our daughter could find no better family to be a part 
:of."

"Mental note: tell cat where I left Moon Princess."

:She smiles, warmth pervading her soul.  "Thank you.  You are so... 
:good."  The word is wholly inadequate, but she hopes that the presence 
:can understand all that she means by it.
:
:A glow of affection seems to indicate that it does.  "Do you then 
:accept?"
:
:"Yes.  With all my heart, yes."
:
:"Good."  And suddenly the presence fills her so much it hurts, and she 
:would fall if not somehow supported.  She can't breathe, she can't 
:move, and she is panicking, except the presence is whispering 
:reassuring things to her, and she calms down and bears it, and suddenly 
:the pain stops.
:
:"It is done."  The voice sounds tired now, and begins to grow distant. 
: "You will now conceive our daughter.  Although you will still need 
:your husband's help first."  The voice chuckles slightly, but it is 
:fading fast and quickly moves on.  "After our daughter is born, you may 
:choose to have other children.  They will be wholly yours.  They will 
:be my thanks for the services you have chosen to perform for me."

"I'll let you keep them."

:"Oh, thank you, thank you.  You've... you've given so much to me, I 
:don't know how to say..."
:
:"You already have."  She strains to hear the voice.  "Do not tell 
:anyone of this; I will reveal myself again, in time.  But even if you 
:can't tell her about me, give her my love.  Oh, to be a mother again, 
:how I envy you, let her know..."
:
:The voice is gone, and she cocks her head listening for it.  But it 
:doesn't come back.
:
:Now that it has gone, she wonders if it was real.  It sounds like a 
:preposterous story, a desperate fantasy she'd created for herself, the 
:first steps taken towards madness.  Is it real?  Does she dare hope?
:
:She looks up once again at the moon.  And in its rays she feels a hint 
:of the presence.  She feels it inside her, waiting.
:
:Waiting to be born.

:She gets to her feet and bows to the moon.  Then she turns and runs and 
:she's smiling and actually giggling as...
:
:---
:
:...she falls into her husband's arms and hugs him fiercely.  He is 
:still sighing in relief at seeing her, and he trembles slightly.  "You 
:scared me tonight.  I was so worried, so terribly afraid that I-"
:
:"Hush."  She turns her head slightly and whispers in his ear.  "Let's 
:never talk about tonight again.  I want to put it behind us.  Let me 
:just say that I withheld a part of myself from you, and I felt guilty 
:and nearly destroyed our marriage because of it.  But our love was our 
:salvation.  It is because we love each other so much that... that what 
:might have torn us apart no longer will."

:"Oh, Ikuko."  He whispers into her hair.  "Nothing will ever keep us 
:apart.  Nothing.  Believe me."

:And she does, for the first she really does.  She thinks that if she 
:had told this man her secret, he would have stayed with her.  For the 
:first time, she really trusts his love in a way she never allowed 
:herself to do before.  And, amazingly her love for him grows, which she 
:had not thought possible.

Fanfic writers, remember this:  If your main characters are in love, you
must constantly remind your readers of this fact.  Otherwise, they will
forget.  

:It grows with each iteration, the voice had said.  Time to move on to 
:the next cycle.  "Kenji, beloved.  I'm ready."
:
:He separates them, looking into her eyes with a startled expression. 
: "Ready?  Does that mean...?"
:
:She laughs and traces his jaw with one finger.  "Let's make a baby."
:
:He laughs as well, a sound of joy and relief, and soon swallowed as she 
:draws him in once again.
:---
:
:She makes breakfast for four.  She often wonders why she bothers. 
: Usually only three eat it.

:Today proves no exception.  Kenji and Shingo come down and eat a 
:pleasant breakfast with her.  The fourth plate of food remains 
:untouched, the fourth chair remains empty.  She frowns at it.
:
:Kenji notices her look.  "Don't worry, dear.  She'll be along."
:
:She shakes her head.  "But she'll be late, and she won't eat well, and 
:she'll be yelled at by her teacher again."

So go drag her out of bed.  Yeesh.

:"And then she'll fail another test and *you'll* yell at her."  Shingo's 
:contribution to the conversation is enthusiastic, but seeing the 
:slightly disapproving expression on his father's face, soon turns his 
:attention back to his breakfast.
:
:Kenji looks back at her.  "Don't feel like you're a poor mother because 
:she acts irresponsibly at times.  It's something teenagers do.  It's 
:not her fault, or yours.  She'll grow out of it eventually."

"It's just a stage she's going through."

:She sighs and looks down at her food.  "I hope so."
:
:There is a scream from upstairs.  Shingo grins and gets up from the 
:chair, ready to go to school.  He glances at the paper Kenji has been 
:reading, and his face gets excited.  "Hey look!  Sailor Moon was in a 
:fight last night.  Cool!"

"She made a drippy speech, and she fell on her butt.  Then Sailor Mars
whacked her upside the head and called her a moron.  Kinda like Sis and her
friends, huh?"   

:She tries not to wince.  She follows Sailor Moon's exploits much more 
:closely than her son and husband will ever know.

She does so secretly, because she is ashamed.

:"Yes, cool."  Kenji grins as well.  "Let's get you to school, kiddo."
:
:They try to leave the kitchen, only to be nearly bowled over by a 
:figure in blue and white streaking by.  "Latelatelatelate!"  The figure 
:tosses down a glass of milk and grabs a lunchbox from the counter. 
: "Byebyebye, gottarun."  The young woman sprints out of the room, 
:chased by a laughing Kenji and Shingo.
:
:She glances at the newspaper.  She can't stand it, and runs to the 
:still-open front door.  "Usagi!" she calls out.  "Be careful."

"WATCH OUT FOR THE... oooh, that's gotta hurt."

:Her daughter slows, stops, turns around, and runs back.  There is a 
:minor collision at the front door, which ends with a mother and daug  
:hter hugging each other.

:"Love you, Mom."
:
:"I love you, Usagi."
:
:Then her daughter disengages and runs off, faster than before.
:
:She stands and watches her recede into the distance.  She feels better 
:now.  She knows that her daughter does know what love is, and even if 
:she can't get her to school on time, she has done the best she could to 
:help Usagi spread that love to other people.

:"Thank you," a voice she hasn't heard in fifteen years says to her. 
: "She is all that I could have hoped for.  

"You did the best you could with the material I gave you."

:She will surely win because 
:of the strong love you and your husband gave her.  My undying thanks. 
: And love."
:
:She smiles, letting the voice know that the gratitude and love are 
:reciprocated.

The secret to a popular fanfic is to use the word "love" as many times as is
humanly possible.

:Then she goes inside to begin the cycle anew.

"And what drippy twit, her hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?"

-- David.