Hi! This is a short Haruka/Michiru fic I wrote a while ago. I haven't posted anything for months, but I've gotten a couple of letters asking whether I was ever going to post again. I'm not writing much fanfic anymore, and I haven't finished "World Shaking", but I will post what I've already written and try to write more. This messege written in the offchance that anyone gives a damn. ;) Standard disclaimer: The Sailor Senshi and characters portrayed here belong to Naoko Takeuchi, and she's brilliant and I'm not, yadda yadda. I wrote this after seeing some fairly disturbing things at the Hershorn Museum of Art in DC. Thanks to Charles de Lint for writing the best books ever, many involving art galleries. And Neil Gaimun, for the Sandman series. ja ne! ~~Distant Sailor "The Spirit of the Stairway" "I don?t like it here." Haruka nudged the woman by her side. "It?s not like you to be uncomfortable in any situation. The taller woman ducked away from a twisted metal sculpture depicting rag dolls being torn apart by a demonic wind. "I just..." "Admit it." Michiru sounded tired. "You?d rather still be stuck in traffic. I?m sorry, but I have to be here for the opening and--" "I like _your_ work." Haruka amended quickly. "Just these heavy metal deformed people screaming get on my nerves." She looked worried for a moment. "Um... yours aren?t like these, are they?" Michiru punched her in the shoulder, not alltogether in jest. "Baka. You should know. Who helped me get this show together?" "I drove. You?re the one who did painting and packing and whatever else went on up in that studio." The other woman?s silence was palpable. "Something wrong?" Haruka asked innocently. The sea-haired woman had seemed so faraway lately... "No. I mean, you?ll see them soon." Michiru tried to smile, but no light reached her eyes. The blonde sighed uneasily. The empty-eyed gazes of the surroundeing sculptures didn?t help, either. "How much longer?" "I should go in, make sure Kai?s got the lighting right. You stay here." Kai was Michiru?s agent. God, she?s so beautiful. The thought came unbidden as Haruka watched her reatreating back. Gentle museum light faceted off the shining silk of the woman?s sky-colored dress. I don?t deserve her, Haruka sighed inwardly. For a moment she leaned forward, moth open to call her lover back. But then she sat back on her bench. "Shimatta." The French had a concept called "L?esprit de l?escalier"-- The Spirit of the Stairway-- to describe all the words and perfect responses that popped into a person?s brain a second too late, after the conversation had ended or the critical words had been spoken. And it hit Haruka full force then. I should have told her how happy I am she got this private show. I should have told her how much I love her. I should have been more excited, rather than nervous about all the artwork she?s unveiling tonight that she hasn?t even shown me. I should have spoken abou tthe way the light hits her hair and makes even the grotesque modern sculptures in this galler ysmile. She suddenly realized that this private exhibition of Michiru?s meant as much to her as a new track record would, or a new endorsement, or even the thrill of racing itself. But the second she saw her lover?s deep blue eyes as she came back through the hall, all the words fled and she was left looking sullen and bored. More and more often, the most important things went unsaid between them. Haruka stood, letting the rooms shadows cover the confusion and fear on her face. Are you slipping away, Michi? You?re my everything. Even as she thought the words, the blonde woman froze in horror. It seemed impossible that she could give so much of herself to another human being, could be so closely linked in this way. And the strangest part is that it?s not scary, it?s wonderful and in a crazy way it all just feels so right... And as Michiru?s face fell seeing her expression, Haruka Ten?oh realized just how much of her strength and power was completely and utterly dependant on Michiru?s warm kindness, how she would just be an empty shell if she were on her own. "It?s time." "All right." She stood and straightened the lapels on her jacket, wanting to tell her lover just how happy she was for her, but the words seemed inane somehow. As she took the shorter girl?s arm and smiled a little, Haruka wondered just when in their relationship the "I love you"?s and constant endearments, the soul searching talks had become obsolete. Because they never would, not as long as Haruka and Michiru were together. They walked, perfectly in step, down to the gallery where Michiru?s work was to be publicly displayed in just a few minutes. The room was dark. Haruka couldn?t even see the other girl?s face, but she could feel her nervousness. "You look beautiful," the blonde whispered. The sudden tightening of the hand enfolded in hers was almost painful. She?s surprised that I think she?s beautiful? Haruka wondered. "Thanks." Kai rushed up to them. "All right, Kaioh-san, can we turn up the lights now?" The older woman fairly radiated nervous anticipation. "Yes. Haruka?s here." All this secrecy just for me? Until Michiru giggled and said yes, she didn?t even realize she?d spoken aloud. But this was Michiru. Maybe speaking aloud wasn?t necessary. As Kai went off to get the lights, Haruka stole a quick kiss and finally captured part of the Spirit of the Stairway. "Michiru, I?m really glad you got this exhibition, you really deserve the publicity." She knew the other would see her blushing even in the dark. "Damnit. You know I?m not good at talking like this. But..." She stopped in confusion as Michiru turned away. "Don?t say that. Not yet." The lights came up. When her vision cleared, she gasped. "Michiru... you..." She stopped trying to speak and just stared for a moment. She recognized some of the paintings-- variations on a seascape. But seeing them together like this made her suddenly aware of the progression the paintings held. The first few were clearly seascapes, but teh one in the middle was less clear, and had the silohettes of figures barely visible in the waves. The fifth and the sixth were the same scene, only rendered as a cloudscape with shining moonlight. Haruka was vaguely aware of a styleized portrait of Ami diving, and a darker fearful painting of the view of Neherina?s palace from inside a mirror. But her eyes widened in shock and barely controlled anger as she saw the lifelike portrait of Sailor Uranus-- whose face was rendered in a way that left no doubt that the senshi was in fact Haruka Ten?oh. People will know not only that I?m a girl but a senshi as well. She turned to Michiru in anger, but nearly drowned in the other woman?s sad eyes. "Do you hate me?" "Michiru, you...!?" They spoke at the same moment. The green haired woman turned away, her mask of calm returning. "I?m sick of hiding who we are, sick of being different people to the world than we are to each other. I?m tired of the masks and the facades. I knew you?d hate me when you saw this, but I couldn?t not do it!" "Why didn?t you tell me, ask me, anything?" "I didn?t know how. There?s so much silence between us..." Only then did Haruka focus on the sculpture that dominated the middle of the room. She couldn?t even identify the medium. The piece seemed to be made of wind and water and light. Within the glowing facets of its smooth surface, she saw faces-- her own, Michiru?s, and hands spiralling together to form a shapw that was both a wave and a cloud. "It?s fantastic." "Nani?" The other woman was still looking at her portrait of Uranus. "This sculpture is so amazing." She turned to look at her. "Just amazing. I?ve never seen anything like it." Something tugged at her memory, some vision of the Moon Kingdom and Neptune making beautiful things for them... "Never." Michiru just stared at her. Then Haruka saw the title of the piece. "Two as One, Dancing." she could have cried, but of course she didn?t. Facades run deep. "I love you so much, Michiru. We?ve gotten so distant... I just never want to lose you. I could never hate you. Even," she swallowed, "if people seeing ths room could mean the end of my career and expose us as senshi, I?d still invite the whole world in to see just how much two people can love each other--" The other woman cut her off with a long, deep kiss. They moved together in front of the pulsating sculpture. ?You?re so beautiful," Michiru whispered. "You are so frustrating and strange and wonderful and I don?t know what I?d do without you." "Forever dancing," Haruka murmered, and hugged her tight. "When did we start accepting our love as something less than a miracle?" "I?m sorry." "Me too." Michiru stepped away. "People are coming." They looked into each other?s eyes, and saw the relief there. They were together again, not just going through the old motions. "I?m not afraid." Haruka glanced at the picture of herself-as-Uranus. The first guests began to arrive at the formal show opening, and Michiru threw caution to the winds as she kissed her lover long and hard for all the world to see. copyright 1998, CRL.