Sticky Situations
By Eternal Angel (Usako9@hotmail.com)
http://www.geocities.com/cherii_blossoms
Part 1 : The Things We Get Into


	Prologue


        The moonlight filled the sky as the primary light now
that the sun had disappeared from the ends of the earth.  A
figure slunk into the darkness of the night, dressed in black.
His movements blended in with the night as he stood in front
of a tavern, the bright neon lights twinkling about, causing him
to crunch up his nose from the blazing yellow impact of the
lights as it spelt out a word.
       Crown.

       It was a stupid name ... or at least in his opinion it was.
Who knew what was streaming through his best friend's mind
when he had titled his bar.  Did he picture a crown when he
named it?  Royalty?  The figure never knew and was just too damn
afraid to ask, not wanting to know what was *really* going though his
friend's mind.
        Shuddering at the wonderment of the thought, the figure entered
the bar, and slowly walked towards the blond haired man who
stood and mixed drinks.
        Taking a seat, the figure looked around him, the clattering of the
noise filled his ears at it always did, as his mind began to wander
away from happenings of this world.
        "Brandy."  He said in a deep voice to his friend who
needed prepping on how to name a bar. He pushed the cup of
brandy towards the other man and he began to take deep gulps of the
intoxicating drink.
        "You have ... a 'customer'," the blond said in a deep voice
unhearing to anyone else but them, "in the blue room.  And
damn is she not the prettiest thing you ever seen.  Like a
goddess ... but she probably isn't such a saint if she is looking
for *you*."  He stated with a grin.
        "That's what you always say about the female 'customers'."
He had replied, picking up his cup of brandy as he headed
towards the blue room. Opening the door, he slipped inside.
The minute he took another step into the room, he was in a
different outfit.
        His head now adorned a top hat and a white mask.

        She sat idle in the room.
        'The Blue Room' the owner had called it as he flirted
aimlessly with her, his blue eyes taking her in.  Of course that
was right after he looked at her suspiciously, saying that she was
a little too young to be in a bar ... but all she had to do was
state her reason and pout.  And pouting did work.  She had to
agree though, the blue room was defiantly ... blue ... so very
blue that it was like an ocean pulling her in.
        Sighing, her mind reeled with thoughts as she felt like an
invalid on the sofa, it's softness slowly causing her to sink into it,
as if it was quicksand ... pulling her deep and deeper ...
        The door opened as a man in a ridiculous outfit entered,
his mysterious aura caused her to take in a deep breath
as he sat on the chair adjacent to her, sipping the brandy
within his grasp.
        He was breathtaking.  Absolutely out of fashion yet
breathtaking.  She continued to gawk at him as he looked at her
in amusement, his deep voice then speaking, "You wished to see
me?"
        Motoki was right; she did look like a goddess ... an angel.
With those jaded blue eyes, the sun-risen hair, and those pouty
lips.  God, he wondered, where did she keep her wings and her
halo?
        He snapped out of it though, as he shook the thought out
of his mind.  'No.' He stated firmly into his mind, he would not
stoop as low as to become infatuated with someone with such
sense as her.  Someone that would come to him ... what was
she?  17?  And to come to him ...
        "Tuxedo Kamen?" she questioned, as he let out a silver
laugh, "Little one, what a strange name you call me ... is that
what they refer to me now?"  She liked the sound of his laugh
because it was relaxing and heartwarming.  Her mind then
screamed at her, telling her that she shouldn't become attached,
for after today she would never see him again.
        "The Masked Rose," she corrected herself, as she
continued on, as her voice became low, "I have a job for you."
She flanked the money onto the table that separated them,
hoping that was enough.  That was her life savings ... money
she had been saving since she was a baby.  He looked at the yen
on the table and picked up the money.  He examined it and then
returned his gaze back to the girl, his voice becoming deep.
        "Who do you want me to kill?"
        It wasn't the first time he had said that line.  He had said it
dozens of time ... but there was nothing wrong with that, he
was an assassin anyways, a damn good one too!  He killed like
no other.  He used only one weapon, which helped to add to his
name, a red rose.
        When he was 16, he was able to concentrate his energy and
become a warrior clad in a tuxedo.  Why a tuxedo he
did not know.  He had the power to wield roses out of thin air
with a steel tip that he used to pierce victims painlessly into
death.
        He didn't know how he had gotten into the business; it's
just that someone had given him a large sum of money (that he
had desperately needed at the time) if he killed his
wife.  It wasn't a difficult task for years of karate had taught
him on how to move about silently, as he maneuvered himself
into the darkness of the room and used the rose to pierce her heart.
Just like that and the deed was done.
        He was also able to jump from rooftop to rooftop ...
almost soaring.  He also had a sort of magical 'cane' that
stretched and shrunk at his command.  Not only that, he had a
sort of physic connection with the earth and the world, causing
doors to unlock for him at a simple thought.  He was also able
to sense evil, as he did many times when he came to close to one
of those 'youmas' that the sailor senshis killed.  Of course he
high tailed it out of there, not wanting to stick around to get
killed.  All in all, a very good package was given to him.
        The FBI had concluded that he was just a psychopath that
enjoyed killing random people, calling him 'The Rose Killer'.
They said that he killed the defenseless for his sicko amusement.
He couldn't help but become disgusted at the thought of killing
for fun, but it didn't matter to him about his reputation.
That just caused more people to come for his 'assistance'.
        The bluntness of his voice caused her to re-evaluate the whole
situation again, her mind quavering.  "You state
everything so bluntly ... Masked Rose."  Her voice was faint, as
everything took a retake in her mind.  Did she really want to
follow though with this?  Did she really want to do this?  She
took deep breaths as her minds spun in such trancing(entrancing?) circles.
        He stared at her, watching emotions flash through her face.
        'She could never play poker,' he thought, as he watched the
way every emotion littered her beautiful face in the uttermost amusement.
With a cocky grin, he asked her, "Second thoughts little one?"
        She stared at him, her eyes blazing as she looked at him,
amusement dripping from his eyes. She couldn't help but
become frustrated.  But what annoyed her the most was that he
was cocky.
        She hated cocky people.
        "No," her firm voice replied as he continued to stare at her,
her blue eyes filled with determination.  'I can't back out now.'
         "I am not backing out."
        He didn't know whether he was upset or joyful at this.
Usually he didn't give a damn ... but this girl ... the aura of
innocence ... surely she wouldn't condemn another person's
death ... or ... would she?
        "So," he spoke again, repeating his previous inquisition,
"who do you want dead?"
        His blue eyes stared at hers, as she kept the lock between
them.
        Taking a deep intake of breath, she let out a serene smile as
she replied very curtly.
        "Me."


	Chapter 1

	In strange, peculiar predicaments such as these, he was 
prepared.  No.  He did what any man who didn't lack sanity 
would do when someone asked such barbaric and extremely 
awkward requests - 
	He laughed.
	It wasn't one of those understanding laughs, but one of 
those laid out, 'this is the funniest thing I ever heart' type of 
laughs.  With his mind in a spell, spinning around like hell, he 
couldn't help but find this as one of the most hysterical notions 
... jokes - he had ever heard.  
	The blonde before him didn't think this was funny though.  
Nor did she find this a joke.  Instead, she stared at him, her 
deep ocean blue eyes flaring with anger at his taunting, as he 
noticed the dark gaze that she cast upon him.  He was being so 
damn cocky!  So incredibly cocky!
	She fumed as he took a deep breath, as he stared at her 
with a thoughtful glance, trying to recover from his ... laughter.  
	"You were ... serious?"  He seemingly asked, as her icy 
gaze began to cut him up.  He had never found anyone so 
infuriating and interesting in his whole life like the saucy blonde 
that sat across him with the aura of frustration, innocence, and a 
whole lot of anger raging about.  She sure was something, was 
all he could think, as he continued to stare at her, amused by her 
current state.
	"I would like it if you would stop smirking at me.  I am 
serious when I request such a demand."  She stated the fact with 
a flat voice; any previous hints of emotions had dropped from 
her face, causing him to regain his previous cold demeanor.
	"Are you going to do this?" Her deep voice asked, 
impatiently.  He frowned at her.
	"What's your name?"  He had suddenly asked, going quite 
off subject.  She stared at him appalled.  "What's your name?"  
He repeated once more, as she stared at him blinking furiously.
	"What?  What does my name have to do with this?"  She 
asked him, as she told herself to take deep breaths and count to 
ten.  
	One ... two ... three ... four ...
	"Come on sweetheart, it doesn't hurt to let me get to know 
you."  He said in a deep tone, as her heart fluttered slightly.  
Five ... six ... Taking deep breaths, she shook her head, hoping 
to get all the frustration out of her mind.  "My name is Usagi 
... defiantly not sweetheart."  She stated flatly, as he grinned.  
Seven ... 
	"Ahh, Usagi ... even better.  But you aren't like a rabbit, 
you're a little on the scrawny side."  Her jaw gapped at him 
because of that statement, "more like a little bunny ... hmm, 
Usa-ko."  He stated with a satisfying grin.  Eight ... 
	She took deep breaths, trying to calm down her flaring 
temper.  Nine ... "You are such an impossible man!!"  Ten!!  
She couldn't take it anymore, as she then jumped out of her seat 
and began to walk out of the 'blue room', grabbing the money 
from the table as she walked away. She couldn't stand this 
anymore!!  This man was practically like a brick wall!  He then 
grabbed her back and pushed her back into her seat as she 
squirmed at the horrible hospitality that he was inflicting on 
her.
	"Now now, where were you going Usa-ko?" He asked, as 
she became more furious at the sound of his deep exotic voice.  
She began to fidget ... squirm ... okay, okay, she moved about 
like there was no tomorrow, trying to kick and punch him, but 
he had refused to let her go.  With a snarl, she glared at him, her 
eyes looking like a blistering storm that was ready to destroy, "I 
was informed that you were a 'capable' assassin, but you are 
nothing but a horrible fashion statement that enjoys to torment 
people!"  
	He just laughed at her statement.
	She screamed in frustration as his hands then resumed on 
her mouth, as she began to take deep breaths once more ... or 
at least, tried to.  Doing so, she regained her senses and soon his 
hands dropped again from her lips, yet now it rested on her 
hands and shoulder.
	"I bet there are many people out there that would be more 
than happy to do my bidding for the money I give them!"  She 
snapped at him. Her just regained demeanor was about to fly 
out of the window once more.  
	"Why in the world would you want someone to kill you if 
you are capable of doing such an event by your own hands?"  
He asked incredulously, his hands loosening his grip around her. 
He began to stare at her, wondering why he felt as if he had seen 
her before ... what was so utterly familiar about her?
	"And sin?  I think not!  You already sinned so many times 
that you'll be glad if you can even dream of seeing heaven!"  She 
snapped at him, as he shrugged off the notion of heaven, for it 
didn't matter to him much.  People like him didn't go to heaven 
... no, people like him didn't even have a chance.  So he didn't 
bother.  For all he knew, there could be no heaven.  
	Still cool and collected, he replied, "So having someone 
else do you in isn't a sin?" 
	"Stop confusing me and just get it over with!"  She yelled 
at him, as his mind began to click.  He knew exactly whom she 
looked liked!  He had seen her all over the TV, the newspapers, 
and even those tabloids!!  "Has anyone told you that you look 
like that Sailor Moon chick?"
	Too angry to lie to him, she just roared back, "Shammit!  
That's because I AM that Sailor Moon chick!!"
	Surprise hit him like a brick wall, as it became his turn to 
yell, "WHAT?
	"I am that Sailor Moon chick, damn it!  But not cause I 
want to be.  All because of my damn luck of tripping over a cat 
and then finding out that I'm some stupid incarnation of some 
legendary princess that lived on the moon!!  That's not all, I'm 
suppose to be *destined* to some earth prince that is probably 
in love with some red head!"  Her nonsensical babbling filled 
his ear as he concluded an irrelevant answer. 
	The girl was mad.
	She lacked any sanity.
	Maybe it was this Sailor Moon job that she had ... no, she 
couldn't be one of those obsessive girls who take up the 
identities of their super hero.  He shook his head.  Yes; this was 
what everything was resulting to.  And he thought he had 
problems.  He was no psychologist but he knew this girl was 
suffering from some identity crisis that she couldn't puzzle 
together.  
	Letting her go, he backed up to his chair and stared at her.  
	Yes, that was what this was about.
	"Why are you looking at me that way?!" She then snapped 
at him, as he picked up the cup filled with brandy that he left 
on the table and began to drink it, trying to calm his senses that 
were being rallied up stirred up by this girl.
	"So sweetheart... who put you up to this?  Is this some 
dare that you made to your friend?  I mean I am appalled by 
your bravery, but furious that you would come to me to fulfill 
this ... joke!"  He didn't know what happened, but the next 
minute, he was against the wall, the blonde's hand holding his 
shirt as his cup of brandy still was in his hand.  She took it, 
downed the whole cup - or what was left of it, and then stared 
at him, her eyes blazing a dangerous color.
	"First off, this isn't a joke.  Second off, my name isn't 
sweetheart ... or Usa-ko.  It's Usagi.  And third, stop messing 
me with."  Her voice was vicious, as he then picked her up, and 
traded spots with her, as she stared at him in surprise to find 
out that it was now her that was pressed against the wall.
	Blinking, he responded to her message.  "Well, 
*sweetheart*, it just so happens that I like calling you that.  And 
it's YOU that shouldn't be messing with ME."  Breathless, he 
parted from her lips, her eyes like daggers.  
	"Not bad," he said with a smirk, "not bad at all."
	She screamed in frustration, as his lips then forced its way 
onto hers again, shutting her up with a long passionate kiss. She 
felt her body go ablaze as the sensation of the kiss filled her.  
He then let go of her. She was glad his arms were still on her, 
holding her up, for she knew if they weren't, she would have 
melted to the floor. "Now ... tell me, why in the world do you 
want me to kill you?"
	"You are such an incorrigible, arrogant, self-absorbed, 
jackass killer-" she had begun to gush out, as she tried to list out 
all the evil qualities that he had possessed.  She didn't get far 
because he then kissed her again.  This time, she forced herself 
to not get lost within the spell and glared at him, her back still 
uncomfortably pressed against the wall.  
	Clearing his throat, he repeated the question again, "As I 
was saying, why in the world do you want me to kill you?"  
	"I didn't want an inquisition!  I just want you to-"
	"-kill you ... yes I know, you had gotten that point done.  
But I for one am absolutely curious of why someone as pretty as 
you would want to die.  I mean, just cause you aren't the 
president of your 'sailor moon fan club' doesn't mean you have 
to kill yourself off. Nope ..." with that he shook his head, his 
hands still pressed against her as his other hand began to play 
around with her hair.
	"Damn it you basterd.  Why in the world would I *want* 
to be in this Sailor Moon fan club, when a) I am her, b) I hate 
being her, and c) I AM HER!"  He shook his head again, his 
eyes filled with sympathy.
	"It's okay, there are people out there that can help.  I mean, 
look, Motoki out there is trying to become a doctor, and I think 
that some psychology is assigned to them ..." He unknowingly 
loosened his hands from her, letting her slip away, her hair 
slapping him slightly. He was surprised to see that she wiggled 
out of the position that she just held.
	"I. Am. Not. Crazy." She exclaimed with clenched teeth, 
"But damn it, I think you're pushing me there!"  
	"Ah, sweetheart, it's okay, it's okay," he said, still trying to 
comfort her.
	'No matter how cute he is ... I still want to break every 
single bone in that body!'  
	"My name is not sweetheart." She bluntly stated out.  'I'll 
show you!' her mind screamed to him.  With that, she raised a 
trinket in her hand and called out an incantation.  "Moon Prism 
Power ... make up!"
	Ribbons surrounded her and then she stood before him as 
the sailor- soldier of the moon.  He stared, awe-stricken, as she 
smiled triumphantly.  "What do you have to say for yourself 
now cape-boy?" (ea: *cringe* a little dub addition ... *sighs* it 
isn't that bad!)
	His mouth continued to stay upon the ground.



     Chapter 2


     His head spun like hell as he gawked at her, his jaw almost detached from 
its bolted position.  Slowly, he had reality knock on his head, asking if 
anyone was home. He instantly shut his mouth and a smirk of glory adorned her 
face with her pearl white teeth sparkling at seeing him in such a position.
     He took a good look at her; her hair was up in a ridiculous manner - two odangos 
with a stream of hair flowing from each. Her face was dignified as her blistering 
blue eyes glittered with glory.  Her full breasts against her tightened 
outfit and the extremely short skirt that showed how her legs extended from 
it and ended in eternity.  All in all it was a very nice package, and he 
wondered why he didn't notice how wonderful she had looked like before in 
her bland looking long skirt and her over-sized sweatshirt.
     She couldn't help but become a little unnerved by his inspection as he let 
out a smile.  With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he happily retorted, "Did 
you know that you're naked when you transform?"
     The man was a splinter in her side.  With a horrible cry, she let out, 
"Damn you . . . you baka!!  Stop provoking me before I moon dust you."
     Her teeth were tightly clenched together and her voice was colder than the 
northern part of the Atlantic Ocean where the Titanic sunk.  The gaze she held was 
very unnerving, but he continued to hold his ground, finding that her eyes 
were even more captivating when she was angry.
     "Did anyone ever tell you," he began, as she graced herself for some 
annoying remark that he was yet to make, only to be jerked into surprise at 
what he really had to say, "that your eyes are so damn pretty?"
     "Huh?!" She questioned, her blue eyes reverted from their cold collected 
status to blazing winded shock.  No matter what emotion they shared, it was 
still an assortment of blue that drank him in.
     "What in the world . . ." she softly muttered as she tried to stop her 
heart to racing at his compliment.  If it weren't for the infernal mask that 
covered his eyes, she would have been taken in with that compliment.  But 
she could barely make out the color of his eyes.  'Probably an ugly shade of 
brown,' she thought to herself (ea: no offense with anyone with brown eyes! 
  I just so happen to have brown eyes . . . they are ugly . . . I hate them.) as she 
let out a puff of breath.  "Would you stop confusing me and just kill me?"
     That tethered his mood, as he let out a sigh, "No, I will not stop 
confusing you . . . it's fun watching you squirm and angrily retort your 
answers . . . it's refreshing.  Usually people feel intimidated by me because 
of the 'status' I hold in the community."
     "Yes, your status, cold blooded murder who likes to intimidate schoolgirls 
who demand a simple task!"
     "A simple task?!  Do you remember what you asked me to do?  You asked me 
to KILL you!"  he roared back. 
     "YOU should be USE to killing!!!" she screamed unhappily.
     She rubbed her temples, hoping to get rid of the splitting headache that 
had just been inflicted onto her by the brazen dark haired gorgeous in front 
of her.
     'Gorgeous?!'  she exclaimed silently to herself. It was no time to be 
checking out guys . . . especially ones that were supposed to kill you, she 
told herself.  She really wished she could loosen up a bit more, as her eyes 
loomed into his hopefully.  "You don't have to have any more brandy do 
you?"
     "Brandy?!  You probably aren't even legal, and you're seeing Death before 
your face and all you want to do is drink some brandy?!!" His booming 
voice scolded her as she groaned.  No siree, he wasn't helping her 
headache at all!  Didn't he know how to answer things with a simple yes 
or no in a regular tone?  
     With a sigh, she fell onto the couch, as she closed her eyes, 
trying to block the scold that he had on his lips from his 
mind.  With a flash of light, she detransformed. "You know, my 
sanity is hanging by the thread now that I've spent the past ten minutes in 
your presence.  I just asked you to do one simple little favor ... I was 
even willing to pay!  But no . . . what did you do?  You taunted me!  Frustrated 
me!  Annoyed me!  Yelled at me!  And now you question my sanity!"
     "I don't need to question your sanity!  I already know you don't have 
any!!"  He bit back, as her eyes flashed open dangerously, making him find 
the sole meaning of 'if looks could kill'.
     "You are such an arrogant, over bearing, cold hearted, feeble minded jerk!" 
  She jumped up agin and gathered her money for the second time in the 
evening.  She couldn't handle this anymore!
     "Why do you want to die?"  He asked her, as she prepared to walk out of 
the room, the money in her hands. 
     She was really tired out.  The Sailor Moon transformation 
had wasted a lot of her energy . . . more so then she would have 
anticipated, but then again, she wasn't surprised.  On her way 
towards her 'well wanted death', she was caught in a youma battle.  She even 
wanted to let the youma have the pleasure of doing her out there - but then 
again, she didn't want Beryl to have the satisfaction of her death.  So 
after a weary battle, she headed towards the bar . . . which had the funkiest 
name . . . who names their bar 'Crown' for god's sake?  She continued to trudge 
on and finally met this 'Masked Rose' or 'Tuxedo Kamen' or whatever his name 
was.  She couldn't help but feel that a death by a youma would have been 
more pleasuring than . . . him.  She ignored him and continued to walk away, 
heading for the door.  He picked her up and whirled her around so his back 
was to the door, and she was pressed against him.  She squirmed and kicked, 
trying to get out of his backbreaking gripped once again.
     "So, are you going to tell me?"  His voiced nudged her as she looked up at 
him, wearily.
     "I'm tired," she let out softly, as he frowned. 
     "Come on, one . . . inhuman person to another . . . 
tell me why you want to die. . . ."
     "I just told you," she said, her shoulders slumping awkwardly, "I'm 
tired . . . I'm just so damn tired. . . ."  Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I hate destiny," her voice splattered on viciously, "I hate my life . . ." she 
continued,  "and I hate everything I stand for!"  A stream of tears 
started down her face, and he tried to comfort her by softly brushing his hand 
against her face.
     The feelings that raged from the touch were cosmic . . . so achingly 
familiar . . . yet so foreign.  As if he had waited a thousand years to touch 
her as he just did . . . he shuddered, then focused back onto the matter in 
hand.  "Go on,"  his surly voice commanded. He couldn't help but continue 
to caress her softly, touching her face, twirling her hair, aching for her 
lips. . . .
     "My soul is so exhausted . . . I'm so tired of waiting . . . and waiting . . . 
only to find out I don't know what I'm waiting for!" Her cracked voice  
proceeded with a sob, "It hurts so much!"  Freely, her tears feel as she 
reached out for his hand, entwining their fingers together, forming a web of raging 
emotions surrounding them.  Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, as she 
glanced at him, brushing free hand against his face, outlining it at the 
ridged defined lines.  He was so handsome . . . so handsome . . . So much like 
her prince . . . a familiar ache reached out to her and embraced her as she 
continued to cry, "I'm just so sick and tired . . . of being . . . alone. . . ."
     Her voice was broken. Her heart was a pile of glass lying around her, as 
she tried to pick up each piece and glue them back together . . . but when she 
touched each piece, it shattered more.
     His heart beat with a passionate pace, as he began to morn for her and her 
broken self.  He pulled her into his embrace, crushing her body against his 
chest,