Whew! And moving right along...

Yay! I mean...BAD author. BAD, BAD author!

Suggested edits are by themselves. Snarky remarks which exploit grossly
unfair stereotypes are in
parentheses. General complaints about the sheer unrelenting EVIL that is
this project are collected at the end.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Sailor Moon is the creation of Naoko Takeuchi and

all

such rights belong to her. No money is being made from this fic

(Does this include side bets on how long before the whole outraged list
storms your place with torches and pitchforks? I'll take a piece of that.)

and no such

intent should be inferred.

C&C, Public or Private, is welcome. I respond (eventually) to all C&C.

(You are a masochist, sir, as well as a sadist.)

Amy Lynn rose with the sun and went to bed at around ten at night. It was,
she had concluded some time ago, the most efficient use of her time. She

did

not waste time laying in bed, but rather immediately gathered her things

and

marched down the hall to the tub, which she filled with water heated to a
comfortably warm sixty-five degrees.

(I'm betting it probably came out of the tap warmer than that; how would she
cool it down?)

Ten minutes later, she was out and towel drying her hair. Not bothering

with

a robe,

(o_o;; -- DBSTS delivers again. One extra-large fanservice scene, extra
sweatdrops, at no additional charge!)

she walked back to her room and donned underclothes, a t-shirt and

jean shorts. Returning to the bathroom, she picked up her hair brush and

went

to work on her hair.

Amy Lynn's hair was bobbed.

(Thank God. I don't think the world is ready for Ami in a mullet.)

It covered her head, didn't get in her eyes,
and

quite frankly, that's all one should expect from hair.

Normally, she would have been done in thirty seconds,but today she paused,

(Don't tell me...she just figured out how to use an electric pencil
sharpener, potting soil and the glop they fill those "wild berry" toaster
pastries with to cure Dengue fever.)

and examined herself critically in the mirror. Her hair was black, but in
bright light, it seemed to turn blue. Her face had once been described as
"like a dolls'" her skin was pale,

"like a doll's". Her skin

setting off her blue eyes. Her jaw had a

slightly squared off look to it,

wordy? Her jaw was slightly square,

a legacy of her father, judging by the one

picture she had of him and the few times she had seen him after her

parent's

breakup.

Pulling off her shirt, she turned sideways and examined herself in the
mirror.

(0_0;;; -- NOW CUT THAT OUT!!)

She was in reasonably good shape, walking everywhere,

good shape. Walking everywhere,

especially

through snow in the winter time back in Saint Paul

(Every day to school! Uphill! Both Ways!)

had seen to that, but she

lacked the curved, yet firm tightness of Bunny.

(She's being irrational, granted, but aspiring med schooler Ami should
realize that walking doesn't really do too much in the way of improving
curves and firmness in the upper body.)

 Again, she felt the

irrational surge of jealously.

jealousy

But then again, her rational mind pointed out. Bunny was raised on a farm

pointed out, Bunny

and

as such, her figure came from simple combination of genetics and a

lifetime

of hard work that no reasonable exercise program could duplicate.

(Not to carry the unfair small-town-Southern cracks too far, but perhaps
"good genetics" isn't the likeliest factor here. Seriously, you're no more
likely outside of farmer's daughter stories to find fitness-mag cover models
on farms than you are in the burbs. Rural living conditions and lots of
manual labour don't always amount to well-shaped bodies.)

She would

never have a figure like that and there was little point in worrying about

it.

Amy Lynn pulled her shirt back on, finished her hair and went about making
breakfast.

(Is her Mom already in the clinic? But that's just downstairs. Maybe Amy
Lynn would make some for her, too. It's a minor point, but apart from house
calls, there isn't really an explaantion for the absentee-mother convention
that defines Ami's mother in many fics. Living like this would almost
certainly force them closer together. Maybe that's part of Janice's desire
to go home again...)

*****************
She had just finished breakfast when there was a knock at the door.

Opening

it, she found herself face to face with Molly and Bunny.

(Another nitpick. The door would probably already be open, given that it's
summer. She could see who's there directly through the screen door their
home is sure to have.)

Both girls wore

T-shirts and jeans, Molly had on sneakers, and Bunny wore work boots and

what

appeared to the same work shirt she had on yesterday.

(What are you complainin' about? 'Taint wash day 'til Monday. That shirt's
got three, four more days good wearin' in it still!)

Molly also noted

Amy Lynn noted?

that

the "machete" was actually a very large knife.

("That's not a knife. <shink> Now THIS here's a knife!")

"Hey," Bunny said with a grin. "Moll and I were gonna go down to the creek
and do some fishing, and we thought you might like to come along."

"It sounds interesting,

("...but shtoopid!")

but I have to unpack, the movers arrived yesterday

evening and the furniture needs to be assembled."

"You need some help?"

"Well, I-"

"Great!" Bunny dashed down the stairs and returned with a box of tools.
"Where's the furniture?"

Wordlessly, Amy Lynn pointed at the stack of boxes in a group in the

living

room.

"That's furniture?" Molly asked as Bunny opened up one of the boxes.

"Mom likes to buy furniture that can be assembled and disassembled at

will,"

Amy Lynn replied.

(IKEA -- practical home design for people who may need to cross state lines
on short notice...)

"C'mon," Molly said with a grin. "Let's get to work."

*****************
While neither Amy Lynn or

nor

her mother were mechanically inept, Bunny's

affinity with tools was astounding.

(She doesn't just look good posing with them for the calendar!)

In the space of three hours, the blond

blonde

had already put together both couches and the large computer desk. Even

now,

she was humming to herself as she screwed together the bookcase.

(I'm sorry -- I just can't comment further! I've reached my saturation point
for lemony allusions.)

in her room, Molly and Amy Lynn were slowly emptying boxes.

In

"Who's the guy?" Molly asked, studying an eight by ten framed photo. In

it,

her mother and a handsome man with a shock of white hair smiled for the

camera

"I'm sorry," Molly said, more out of feeling the need to say something

then

than

anything else.

"Sometimes, I wish things could be different, I love them both,

different. I

but Mom goes

into hysterics if I so much as mention him." Amy Lynn took the frame and
placed it up on the shelf of her closet and closed the door. "What else is

in

that box?"

*****************
By one, the trio had finished the unpacking process and placed the

furniture

more or less where Amy Lynn thought her mother would want them. Mrs.

Anderson

was a creature of habit, and the second story apartment was not that
different in terms of layout from their condo back in Saint Paul.

('Cept for that big ol' hole in the floor, but they can work around that.)

"C'mon," Bunny said. "Let's go fishing."

And so, having no way to gracefully refuse,

(She briefly considered shouting "AAAAUUUGHHHH, NO! I'll never give in to
you or your hick ways!!!", but her mother always told her that a true lady
doesn't hang onto the doorframe and kick and scream when being dragged away
to a "social activity" she feared worse than a slow and painful death.)

Amy Lynn left a note for her

mother and followed Bunny and Molly down the steps to where a Great Dane

sat

beside an old pickup truck. The maker's logo

(which was...?)

was written across the grille in

dirt-covered chrome and the truck had been repainted several times and had
been dented in various places.

Bunny placed the toolbox into the back and rubbed the dog's head. "This is
Luna," the blonde said to Amy Lynn. "Luna, this is Amy Lynn."

Luna held out her paw, which after a moment, Amy Lynn shook.

"Creepy, aint it?" Molly whispered as Luna clambered up the rear wheel and
into the truck bed. "Sometimes I swear that dog understands everything we
say."

("And has better diction to boot!")

"All aboard," Bunny said as she got in. Molly and Amy Lynn got in on the
other side. Molly in the middle Amy Lynn

middle, Amy Lynn

by the window.

"You have a driver's license?" Amy Lynn asked.

(What, you need a license to bag you a trunkload o' drivers, now?)

Bunny grinned cheerfully. "Nope." She worked the shift and zoomed

backwards.

"No seatbelts, either," she continued, seeing Amy Lynn frantically looking
around. "Pa cut them out. Said we didn't need 'em."

("Said somethin's 'bout some Nitt-shee guy and stuff that don't kill ya
makin' ya stronger.")

Wrenching the wheel,
she

swerved the truck onto the road, shifted again and floored the

accelerator.

Bunny's driving skill seemed to be best described as "Pick a direction and
try not to hit anything."

(Not unlike her running skill in canon SM.)

For fifteen minutes, the truck bounced, the wheels

actually leaving the surface of the Earth several times as Bunny steered

it

over the grassy fields at speeds better suited for high-speed

repetitive?

aircraft
before

finally coming to a screeching halt at the top of a small hill. A narrow

path

led down to a clearing by a bubbling creek.

"We're here!" Bunny said and turned to look at her passengers.

Molly looked

add "only"?

slightly queasy but Amy Lynn was sitting stiffly, her face
white

as a sheet and an expression of sheer terror on her face. Her hands were
white knuckled as they held onto the edge of the seat in a death grip.

"Amy Lynn?" Molly asked, touching her arm. With a shriek, Amy Lynn jumped,
slamming her head into the roof and then grabbing it in pain.

"Where...the hell...did you learn to drive?" Amy Lynn said between

clenched

teeth as she gripped her head as though if she didn't, it would open like

a

suitcase.

("Cousin Luke and Cousin Bo done taught me everthin' they know!")

"Pa taught me. 'Course, I don't drive recklessly like he does."

("I always drive reckfully! That's my motto.")

Amy Lynn let out a whimper.

*****************
"Feeling better?" Molly asked as she took the canteen from Amy Lynn."

cut the extra ".

"Yes," Amy Lynn replied as she leaned against the side of the truck. The

two

girls were sitting side by side on the ground. "I'm glad you had you had
those headache pills with you."

"Oh, I carry them everywhere," Molly replied. "Especially when I go

fishing

with her.

("Bunny is Excedrin headaches # 2, 5, 7, 11, 29, 30, 31 and 42 through 59
all by herself.")

Bunny's a good person, but she tends to be a tad oblivious.
Still,

you won't find a better friend anywhere."

"How can she drive like that?"

"Around here, you learn to drive as soon as your feet can reach the

pedals,"

Molly replied with a shrug. "Personally, I prefer to stick with my dirt

bike.

Think you can stand?"

"Yes," Amy Lynn replied as she stood on shaky legs.

"Hey, guys!" Bunny called. "I found some worms, we got bait!"

"Don't worry," Molly said. "You get used to her driving eventually."

Together

they walked over to where Bunny was waiting.

*****************
Molly proved to be correct and as the days became weeks, Bunny constant

Bunny's constant

dropping by to spend time with her new friend eventually allowed Amy Lynn

to

get used to her haphazard driving. Many times, the trip was short,

(...and ended right back at Dr. Anderson's clinic, ironically enough...)

two girls

the two girls

spent time in the general store, listening to the town's old men

argue and swap stories as they sat on front porch. She even got to meet
Rayelene Hino,

(-_-;)

daughter of the county judge, who lived with her grandfather,

who was the preacher at the local church. He was a tiny man, scarcely over
five feet tall, but he had a boisterous laugh, and you couldn't help but

like

him.

(He does have a rather creative interpretation of "touching folks with the
Word of God", though.)

Rayelene, on the other hand, was intense as a tightly coiled spring, which
tended to set teeth on edge, especially Bunny's. According to Molly, the

two

despised each other with an almost unholy passion and whenever they were
together, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Current odds, according to Andrew, the tall blond boy she had seen

sweeping

the store's walk were

walk, were

three to one that Raylene and Bunny would come to blows

by Christmas and five to one that Bunny would use her knife.

There were also rumors of a blond haired woman

blond-haired

who roamed the woods near
the

lake whenever the moon was in the night sky accompanied by a black-haired
wolf, searching for something.

(But folks chalked that up to the quality of the last batch of corn spirits
to come out of Uncle Jessie's still.)

Soon, school started and Juuban Hollow's forty-five or so children,

ranging

in age from six to seventeen gathered in the school house, a dilapidated
structure on a hill west of town. It was a single room and ran by Miss
Haruna,

(Mizz Patty Haruna?)

a tall, imposing woman who's

whose

manner was almost as intense as Rayelene.

After Amy Lynn, plus two new students, Mina, who's

whose

blond hair was tied with a

red ribbon, and Lita, a tall brunette who looked as though she could lift

the

school off it's

its

foundation had

foudation, had

been introduced, Miss Haruna got down to

business.

"The state says that this year, those of you who are aged fourteen through
seventeen have to study the life cycle of plants and animals. The folks

over

at Black Mountain Plantation have agreed to let us use their facilities as
part of this. So, in two weeks class will meet two days a week at Black
Mountain where you will tend and care for a small herd of sheep, twenty

four

head of cattle, and a small, one acre field of various plants, including
cotton. At the end of the school year, I expect each of you to tell the

class

what you learned."

(Okay, I can't speak with authority here, being a northerner used to a
growing season of less than 120 days, but maybe someone who knows can vet
this scene. What crops do you plant in September in the South, that ripen by
May or June? Also, considering how calving season is usually timed, it makes
less sense to start this kind of project in the fall.)

A few groans and complaints were heard throughout the

room. "I know most of you have spent your lives raising plants and animals
which is why I expect A's all around as you will help the others with what
you know. Any questions? No? Good. Open your math book and turn to page
fifty-one."

(You mean there's only one book and they all have to share? And they're all
on the same page? Poor Amy Lynn!)

*****************
Black Mountain Plantation was a huge estate that covered most of the

county

east of Juuban Hollow. The main house, was in fact

house was

the mansion Amy Lynn had

seen when she and her mother first arrived in town. The owner, Ms Ande,

was a

recluse and her four managers did most of the work.

Amy Lynn sighed and pulled on her work gloves. She was wearing one of

Bunny's

work shirts, old jeans and a pair of work boots with paper in the toes to
make them fit.

The students, about twelve or so in all trudged

all, trudged

along the dirt path towards a

small area with green sprouts dotting the brown path. At one edge, Ms

Haruna

stood with a man dressed in a white, buttoned down shirt, and tan slacks.

white button-down shirt and tan slacks.

His

white hair was tied back in a ponytail and his smile was friendly.

"Class I want you to meet Michael White. He's-" she broke off as Amy Lynn
gasped.

"Dad?"

(Megasweatdrop. Didn't see that comin'.)

*****************
Father and daughter stood at the edge of the field that Black Mountain had
loaned to the students, watching them move through the rows as plantation
employees described each of the plants and how to care for them.

(Again, would you have a mixed planting like this, laid out in an acre? It
would be more of a garden than a set of neat rows.)

One or
two

of the workers made Amy Lynn nervous in the way they moved, like they were
shells wrapped around something.

(Nice image of undefinable uneasiness.)

"Amy Lynn...I'm sorry, if

sorry. If

I had known you were coming to Juuban Hollow, I

would've called, come by...done...something."

"It's okay, Dad. Mom wouldn't have come if she knew you were here. We got

to

see each other again. That's what's important, right?"

Michael smiled. "Right. How are things?"

"Good. Great, actually. I've made a few friends and Juuban Hollow is very
different from Saint Paul. I just wish it wasn't so hot." She stared out

at

the field. "Why does Mom hate you so much?"

("And why are my segues so abrupt?")

"Because she doesn't understand. Your Mother has a very simple view of
things. I think it's because she was raised here in Juuban Hollow.
Homosexuality is a strange word to these people.

("Most words with more than two syllables are...")

Some have probably never

even heard of it."

"But Mom's a scientist. A doctor. She's supposed to view everyone

equally."

Michael laughed softly. "Your Mother has never been one to let her

predjuices

and opinions get in the way of doing her job. I remember when you were

about

three, a few years before I discovered...what I was. I took you and a

picnic

lunch down to the Emergency Room where she was on duty.

("Sure, the people lying there suffering looked at us a little strange as we
opened up the blanket and set out the chicken salad, but at least there
weren't any ants.")

As she was getting

ready to go off duty, the doors opened and an ambulance crew rushed in
bearing Leslie McDaniels. the president

McDaniels, the president

of the local chapter of the Gay
and

Lesbian support group and bleeding

group, bleeding

to death. Janice knew who she was, of

course, and dropped everything to tend to her. Without your Mother's

skill,

she would have died right there in the lobby of the ER. That's when you
turned to me and said 'Daddy, I want to be a doctor when I grow up.'"

"I don't remember that," Amy Lynn said softly. "All I remember is the
fighting and then you left."

"I know," Michael said he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'd give
anything to change that, but I can't."

Another man dressed almost identical to Michael

identically

walked up to them. He had

short, curly blond hair and the coldest eyes Amy Lynn had ever seen. "This

is

Jeddadiah Cite," Michael said. "Jed, this my Daughter, Amy Lynn."

(Ohhhhh --
Come'n listen to m'story 'bout a gen'ral named Jed,
A pore Dark Kingdom lackey, barely kep' Queen Metallia fed...

I'm sorry. I was waiting and hoping and praying for this character to be
introduced.)

"A pleasure," Jeddadiah said perfunctorily. His handshake was very stiff.
"Her teacher, while pleased that she has been reunited with her father,

would

like it if she would begin her project."

if she began

"Of course." Michael gave his daughter a hug. "I'll drive you home

tonight,

and talk to your mother. Maybe we can work something out."

"I'd like that." Amy Lynn said softly and walked back towards her friends.

"You're fooling yourself," Jeddadiah said. "Once we find Empreya, the

Queen

will slaughter her and the rest of the humans like pigs. You really think

you

can save her?"

"Shut up, Jeddite," Malachite snarled.

(o_o) (Gasp!)

Woah.

On the positive side -- again, funny without going overboard. Great plot
twists. It's the kind of story you just have to pay attention to.

On the negative side -- I'd vote for more detail in the set-up, and more
development in the build-up. I don't think we'd really mind that much or get
bored with a more leisurely pace. Summer's already over, new friends have
been made, the rest of the SM cast is present, but it's still kind of fuzzy.
Is Serena still mysterious to Amy Lynn -- or just a slightly intimidating
friend? We haven't seen enough to tell. How did the fishing expedition turn
out, for instance? I'm not curiously indifferent!

Jim Champagne
galathane@hotmail.com


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