This is the Official Unofficial Valentine's Day 2000 BSSO/BSSA fanfic. Why
that name?  Because it has a romantic theme, and was started a few days
before Valentine's.  11 February, to be exact, in a hotel of the Hyatt in
Crystal City, Virginia, during Katsucon.  No, I don't normally write in
elevators, but here's to it anyway.


==============================
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor America
A fanfic by LeVar Bouyer
Episode 102: Valentine's Day
==============================


Planetary Defense Headquarters
Main Control Room
14 February 3042
20:44 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Captain Eileen Pearcy was livid as she screamed into her headset
microphone.  This was the third time this had happened.  The *third* time.

	"Dammit, why the HELL can't you idiots listen to directions?"

	"Sorry!" cried out about a dozen people at once.

	Eileen sighed.  "Okay, let's try this again."

	This was the third time they had run this particular exercise.  It
was supposed to be a simple one: ground level attack from the north and
west, to be intercepted by air and ground systems.  Jennifer had run this
before in the past, and always well within the margins of error.

	Eileen was having considerably less success.

	Once again the computer-generated images arrayed themselves across
the screens, motes of light denoting position, speed, direction,
acceleration.  Perfect Newtonian poetry in motion.  Eileen wondered what
Newton would think of his laws being applied here, 1378 years after the
fateful summer of 1666.

	Saturday was drill day for the self-defense force of Nagano-2.  Ever
since the invasion a couple years ago, the readiness of the military had
been of great concern to the planet.  While it was true that the senshi
would be the most effective form of defense, it couldn't be assumed that
they would always be able to repulse an attack, or for that matter even be
available.

	Thus, the conventional forces were put through strenuous exercises
every week.  Technically, Jen and Eileen were supposed to share the duties
of running the drills equally.  Normally, though, Jen, as ranking senshi on
the planet, was the one who was in charge.  Despite Eileen's
disinclinations, she still lead the drills at least once a month.

	Nine hours later, she still didn't think she had managed a very good
job.  Too many complete losses of command, too many "wins" with 70%-80%
casualties.

	"I suck," she whispered as the final simulation of the day ended.

	"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, ma'am," said Vanessa, who was
working next to her.  "Captain Sakachi doesn't do much better . . . after
all, we're simulating magical attacks even senshi would have a hard time
dealing with."

	"That won't be of much comfort in the real thing," Eileen replied
acidly.  Immediately she sighed and tugged uncomfortably at the white
turtleneck of her uniform.  "I'm sorry . . . but I just feel that I'm
letting you guys down when I screw up like this."

	"That's why we run the sims," said Kim, who had just walked over to
see what the other two were up to.

	"Maybe I should do these more often . . . go to twice a month for
the drills once Jennifer gets back.  I need the practice, for certain."

	Kim pretended to think about it for a bit.  "That might be good,"
she said.

	"And I had been hoping you would say no," Eileen replied with a
sulk.  "Okay, I'll let you guys figure out a schedule.  I'm outta here." She
stoop, stretched, yawned, and walked out without another word; the
evaluation reports could wait until later.

	Or so she thought.

	"Captain Pearcy!"  The slim brunette froze, just short of the door.

	"Will you be writing the evaluations now?" asked Kim.  "The sooner
we have them, the sooner we can work out the shift rotations based on who
needs the most attention."

	Eileen turned.  "Does it *have* to be today?"

	"If not today, ma'am, it'll make things much more difficult."

	"Fine, fine, I'll do it now.  I'll be in my office if you need me,
just give me a holler."

	"Yes, ma'am."

***

	Eileen's military office was next door to Jen's.  Both were on the
sixth floor of the headquarters building, one floor above the main control
room itself.

	It was also in pristine condition.  After it had been assigned to
her, she had only been there once, for a photo op.

	Even with 31st century air purification and filtration, there was
still a thick layer of dust on everything.  "Just because I never come here
doesn't mean sanitation shouldn't, either," she muttered mournfully,
grabbing a tissue from a dispense and wiping her desk clear of the gunk.

	She took off the black top to her uniform jumpsuit.  It wasn't that
she disliked it; it just seemed too much to wear, especially when she could
drastically turn up the heat (which she immediately proceeded to do).  In
just a few minutes the temperature was a more comfortable twenty-six degrees
centigrade.  She sat down and began to get to work.

	Writing, to Eileen, was a production job that required just the
right circumstances.  Temperature was simply the beginning; there was also
music.

	She tapped a key sequence into the desktop computer, and in moments
the strains of the love theme from Tchaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet" overture
were drifting through the still air of the room.  Jen had her Soundgarden,
but Eileen's favorite music in this case was Russian.

	Funny, that, she thought as she set about getting a few
environmental elements perfect.  Her preferred music (aside from the popular
music of the 3030s and 40s) was that written by the nation her homeland had
hated for so long.

	"Section one," she said aloud, both typing out the words and
speaking them aloud in English.  She generally thought much better in
English than in Japanese, even though she knew Japanese better than Jen knew
English.

	Her mind wandered as she wrote, the words flowing mindlessly from
her fingers.  Inevitably, her thoughts turned to Jennifer.

	Jennifer Sakachi, her lover, was away.  Her grandmother had died,
and her mother was taking the loss especially hard.  Jen's father had
urgently asked that she come back and comfort her mother, and Jen had
readily agreed.

	The problem was that Jen and Eileen, as the two senshi assigned to
Hinansho, couldn't leave it entirely unprotected.  At least one senshi had
to be on the surface at all times, and that meant that Eileen couldn't
accompany her.  That had, of course, irked Eileen to no end, but there was
nothing to be done.  There weren't any senshi available to take both their
places, and besides, she knew the planet better than any replacement could. 
So Jen had hopped on the first ship bound for Luna (commandeered it,
actually), while Eileen had waited forlornly at the spaceport.  That was a
week ago.

	Now, the novelty of having the house completely to herself had long
ago worn thin, and the prospect of going home once again to a cold and empty
bed was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.  The daily messages the
two sent back and forth didn't help enough . . . the overwhelming distance
of hundreds of light years couldn't be overcome, even by the relatively
short transmission lag of a few minutes.

	It was simply too much.

	Three hours later, she was finished.  She stood and stretched, her
bones crackling in varied and unpleasant ways.  She turned to stare at her
reflection in the window, unable to see the nighttime view of the city.

	She studied her reflection carefully, eyeing the curves and angles
of her face.  It wasn't a drop-dead gorgeous face, to be certain, but it
wasn't ugly either.  She thought with some degree of gloom and loneliness
that very few people *really* liked it, in the sense that they claimed to
love it.  Actually . . . come to think of it, weren't there only two? 
Jennifer, and . . . .

	Amy.

	Now there's a name I haven't thought about in awhile, she mused.  It
seemed to have been centuries since she had seen the first girl she ever
fell in love with.  Hard to believe that it was just eighteen years ago
. . . nearly half of her life.

	The finished report lay forgotten on her desk as she dove into a
whirl of memories.

***

Annville-Cleona High School
Annville, Pennsylvania
North American Confederation
30 August 3026

	The first day of school means many things to many people.  To some,
it is a new beginning.  To others, it is the initiation of eight months of
torture.  And to a junior named Eileen Pearcy, it meant getting used to a
new schedule.

	"Let's see, gym's next."  She grinned at the thought as she jostled
her way through the school's crowded halls.  Athletics was one area among
many in which she excelled.  She looked forward to a full hour in which to
push herself to her physical limits . . . and possibly push a potential
relationship with a girl she'd had her eye on for some time.

	Eileen was a lesbian.  She'd been sure of that for as long as she'd
known what one was.  Women attracted her: their looks, their words, their
feelings, their hearts.  While others talked and fantasized about football
and soccer players, the only soccer player Eileen was really interested in
was Amy Manheim.

	Amy, Eileen knew, was about two months older, with long,
strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes.  Eileen had first noticed her the year
before, while waiting for a friend after one of the girl's team's practices. 
Ever since then, she had made it a point to attend every game, home or away.

	However, she couldn't quite bring herself to actually talk to Amy. 
It wasn't shyness, not really: Eileen was a *very* talkative person.  It was
more a case of being unsure as to how to announce herself.  She was still
'in the closet,' as the quaint twentieth-century saying went, and there was
*no* way she could hope to show her feelings to someone when the
consequences of doing so were so dire.  Being rejected was one thing. 
Becoming an outcast was quite another.

	This didn't stop her from thinking about Amy.  Eventually she would
find a way to express her love.  She simply had to; looking at her across
the cafeteria at lunch wasn't enough anymore.  Grin still firmly in place,
she almost skipped down the stairs to the locker room.

	Eileen went to her assigned locker and began dressing.  With some
regret, Amy was nowhere to be seen.  Eileen was about to give up when a
blonde girl walked in and caught her eye.  A beautiful blonde girl who
seemed to light the room up with her very presence, and put a song into the
heart.

	Or at least, that was how Eileen perceived her.  Most people never
gave her a second glance.  Her heart leapt . . . and then came crashing down
in the same moment.  Amy was here . . . and here Eileen had just finished
lacing her shoes.  There was no reason for her to stay in the room now.

	Well, there was *one* way, but actually engaging the blonde in
conversation was a bit much.  Talking to your goddess was always an exercise
of questionable merit.

***

	Afterward class she was lost in thought, washing off the sweat of a
good forty minutes' exercise.  The first indication she had that Amy Manheim
was in the stall next to her was when Amy said, "Hey, Eileen, can I ask ya
something?"

	The brunette tried to be calm, but more than a hint of a stammer
crept into her voice as she answered.  "Yeah?"

	"I noticed you came to a lot of our games last year, right?"

	"Um . . . yes, yes."

	"Cool.  I think it's great for you to support us like that!"

	Eileen nodded dumbly, and then added for Amy's benefit, "Yeah, I
guess so."

	"What do you think of our team this year?" asked Amy.

	"Um . . . they're pretty good, I think.  Weren't you 8-5 last year?"

	"8-4-1, actually," corrected Amy.  "We had that tie the last week of
the season, remember?"

	"Yeah," Eileen lied.  "I bet you'll do lots better this year."

	"I know we will," replied Amy confidently.  "Only two seniors
graduated, so we've already got the core of a good team."

	"Yes," replied Eileen in fashionable Japanese.  There was no more to
the conversation; the remainder of the shower continued in silence, with
only the soft pattering of water upon the tiled floor.

	Eileen was done washing.  The only question that remained was
whether to leave first, or wait for Amy.  If she left first, she could
arrange for their talk to continue at a time and place of her 
choosing . . . .

	The shower next to her cut off.  Time to act, thought Eileen.

	She didn't move.

***

	That night Eileen was soundly kicking herself.

	Her bed was right next to the window of her bedroom.  On late summer
nights like these, she left it open, and so the cool breeze that blew down
the Lower Susquehanna Valley was free to flow over her as she lay in bed,
clad in her normal pink pajamas.

	"Why didn't I ask her out?" she whispered to the ceiling.  "Or ask
if she was okay with her homework.  Or ask how she was *feeling* for God's
sake!" She slammed a fist against the wall.  "Stupid!"

	"Hey, you wanna keep it down over there?  Some of us are trying to
sleep!"

	Eileen answered her brother with another thump on the wall.  "Quit
complaining, Joey!" Joey thumped back, but there was silence afterwards,
allowing Eileen to return to her thoughts.

	The brunette considered Amy once more.  So charming, so beautiful
. . . so untouchable.  There had to be a way to win her friendship.  How to
do it, though . . . birthday party?  No, Eileen's birthday wasn't until
July.  Study?  That might work . . . except that it might be suspicious for
one of the best students in the school to single Amy out for special
treatment. She'd have to make it an open offer somehow.

	"This can work," she whispered, a hand slipping down.  "I know it
can.  I know . . . ."

***

	The next day dawned with just a few white clouds in the sky.  Eileen
stood at her bus stop, waiting to be taken to the school.  She could walk,
conceivably, but it would really be a rather long walk, and she'd be tired
and sweaty by the time it was finished.  She'd done it before, though, on
days that the ancient bus that the Annville school district provided broke
down.

	Nervously, she took a small hand mirror from her purse and examined
her face carefully.  Everything seemed in order: brown eyes without any hint
of red, nose that still seemed too long, hair carefully tied back into a
ponytail with a bright red scrunchie.

	For the occasion, she had also worn the small gold stud earrings
she'd gotten for her last birthday.  Imported from Japan, they were
hideously expensive, and used tiny, focused magnetic fields to stay clipped
to the earlobes, as opposed to traditional piercings.  They were the envy of
most of her class, and since she didn't want to seem elitist she didn't wear
them often.  Today, though, was a very special day.

	The bus arrived, about a minute ahead of schedule.  That minute was
promptly lost while the driver waited for another student.  Eileen sighed at
this; she'd hoped to have a bit more time than usual to prepare, but now she
had to make do.  The remainder of the trip passed without incident, and soon
Eileen was at her locker, putting away her things.

	Amy, she knew, had her locker in a row across the hall and about
three rooms down.  She also knew Cathy Barley, a friend whose locker was
right next to Amy's.  Perfect.

	Outwardly looking far calmer than she felt, she strode down the hall
and right to Cathy, a slightly overweight girl with short, curly black hair.
"Hey Cathy!"

	"Morning, Eileen," the other girl answered, pausing in the middle of
putting two binders in her locker.  "What's up?"

	"Not much, not much . . . hey, we've got that exam next week in
Lingenfelter's class, wanna come over for a bit of studying?"

	"Sounds like a good idea, especially since I got a 92% on the last
exam I studied for with you!"

	"Great!" answered Eileen.  She then paused, and made a great show of
cocking her head to the side and stroking her chin in thought.  "Come to
think of it . . . Amy, you're taking that exam too, aren't you?"

	Amy perked up at that and glanced over at the two, having been
engrossed in checking her makeup in the mirror attached to the inside of her
locker.  "Um, yeah, I am." All three took the same class; while Eileen and
Cathy took it in the morning, Amy had it in the afternoon.

	"Hey . . . you wanna come along with us?"  She waited, knowing that
Cathy would give a ringing endorsement.  She wasn't disappointed.

	"Eileen is the *best* study partner!" gushed Cathy.  "Trust me, Amy,
you won't regret it."

	"Hm . . . when would this be?"

	Eileen glanced at Cathy.  "Tomorrow night okay?"

	"Fine with me," said Cathy.

	"And me too, provided it's after six," added Amy with a small smile.

	"Perfect," murmured Eileen.  "Just perfect."

***

	The study session went well.  In fact, the three girls got the three
highest scores on the exam.  After that, Amy was entirely sold on the idea,
and the three became fast study partners.  This pattern persisted for
several weeks before Eileen made her next move.

	She lay on her back in bed, the window of her bedroom closed against
the harshness of an autumn breeze.  In her hand was the phone, and in her
ear was the soft ringing tone as she waited for an answer.

	Finally, the other line picked up.  "Hello?"

	"Hey Cathy, it's Eileen."  She coughed.  "Listen, about tonight's
study session?  I'm going to have to call it off, I'm not feeling too hot.
Is that okay with you?"

	"That sucks," said Cathy with typical teenage concern.  "Are you
gonna be all right?"

	"Yeah, but my mom's telling me to stay in bed," replied Eileen with
a slight sneer of disdain for all overprotective mothers.  "You know how it
is."

	"Mm-hmm," agreed Cathy.  "Will you be in school tomorrow?"

	"I dunno . . . I'll think about it when I get up, okay?"
 
	"Okay . . . well, I hope I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

	"Sure thing," replied Eileen with a smile.  "See ya."  Eileen closed
the connection and smiled even more broadly.  One down, one to go . . . .
With honed practice she reached to the phone on her nightstand and dialed
another number.  "Amy?"

	"Yes?" said the voice on the other end.

	"Hm, you sound kinda tired.  Everything okay?"

	There was a long pause.  "It's fine . . . I was just taking a nap."

	"Oh," said Eileen after a moment.  "Well, I was just calling to say
that Cathy won't be able to make it tonight.  She's got a bad cold."

	"Oh . . . that's too bad," replied Amy slowly.

	"But I figured that just the two of us could get together and get
some work done . . . ."

	A long pause.  "Um . . . sure, sure why not?  I'll be over at the
usual time, okay?"

	"Okay!"  Eileen couldn't help but let a hint of triumph creep into
her voice.  "I'll see you there!" She let out a whoop of delight as the
phone sank back on the receiver.  Squealing, she kicked her feet back and
forth in the air, laughing hysterically.  Not even the thumps on the wall
from her brother could bring down her mood.

	Tonight, Eileen would confess her love.

***

	Amy Manheim stood on the porch of Eileen Pearcy's house, waiting
after having pushed the doorbell.  The skies were almost completely dark
now, the constellations just beginning to rise.  While the northern sky was
mostly obscured by a line of trees, the south was clear to her eyes.

	She was just musing on the vastness of space when the door creaked
open.  Amy peered inside, and could barely see Eileen's pale white face.
'Geez,' thought Amy, 'it's dark in there . . . .' "Hi Eileen, can I come
in?"

	"Sure!"  Amy pushed the door further open and walked inside.  She
had been to Eileen's house several times before, but it had always been
brightly lit before.  She nearly tripped over the single step that led up
from the sunken foyer, and managed to stumble the rest of the way into the
living room.

	"Um, Eileen?"

	"Just a minute!" came the voice from the kitchen.  Amy felt around
for the couch and managed to sit down, dumping her books on the floor.  Her
eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, and she had just reached the point
where she could take in her surroundings when the room lightened slightly.
Amy turned to face the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen.

	Eileen stood there, leaning against the doorframe in a casual, yet
unmistakably seductive pose.  Her t-shirt was small and tight, exposing her
bellybutton and accentuating her small, yet noticeable breasts.  Her cut-off
jeans ended two-thirds of the way from mid-thigh, with the button tugged
down in such a way that the waist of the shorts formed a slightly suggestive
V.  Her hair was tied back in its usual ponytail, but she'd left a bit of it
hang loose, a few strands left across her forehead.

	Given such attire, it came as a surprise to Amy when Eileen said, in
a completely casual and normal tone, "Want any potato chips?  We got normal
and sour cream."

	Amy blinked.  "Um . . . no thanks, I'm fine.  Should we get
started?"

	Eileen nodded her approval and sat down next to Amy.  Rather close,
actually; close enough for Amy to take notice and glance at Eileen once
more.  But the brunette seemed engrossed in turning to the appropriate page
number in her textbook, so Amy shrugged and did the same.

	The two quizzed each other for about half an hour on the chemistry
that they had to do.  Finally, Eileen decided to go for it.

	". . . and those are the characteristics of an ideal gas," concluded
Amy triumphantly.

	"Good job!" congratulated Eileen.  She breathed out heavily and
flopped back against the back of the couch, in the process moving even
closer to Amy.  Amy could smell the faintest hint of . . . perfume?  But
that was silly; there was no reason Eileen would wear that unless she had a
date after this.

	Eileen was beginning to worry.  She'd thought for sure that Amy
would start moving toward her of her own volition . . . so she had decided
to try and move things more quickly.  Now *this* wasn't working, and they
were going to run out of things to study very quickly.

	"Eileen?" asked Amy calmly.

	"Yeah?"

	"Um . . . would you mind giving me a bit of room?"

	Eileen blinked, then blushed.  "Right . . . sorry about that.  Look,
um, Amy, I've been meaning to tell you something . . . ."

	Something in the tone of Eileen's voice made alarm bells go off in
Amy's head.  She turned slowly to face Eileen, but Eileen's brown eyes were
fixed on some point on the wall past Amy.

	"Amy . . . I think we're pretty good friends.  Wouldn't you agree?"
Amy nodded.  "Very good friends?"

	"Perhaps . . . what are you getting at?"

	"I . . . um, geez, how do I say this?"  Eileen's composure was
almost totally gone at this point, and she looked somewhat outlandish in her
provocative outfit.  "Amy . . . I think that I'd like to be more than
friends."

	Amy stared at Eileen in total confusion.  "What?"

	"Amy, I . . . that is . . . I . . . I love you."  The last three
short, lethal words came out in a rush.

	An awkward silence followed, one that stretched on and on.  When
Eileen saw the look of bewilderment on Amy's face begin to shift into one of
shock and, most frighteningly, rejection, she began to stammer out an
apology.  Amy cut her off with a raised hand.

	"Don't apologize to me, Eileen."

	Eileen was stunned, to say the least.  "But-"

	"No, hear me out."  Amy sighed, then forced the edge from her voice. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh." she forced a smile.  "I . . . I think
it's sweet, that you told me that.  I hadn't suspected it, to be honest . .
. but my preferences don't lean the way yours do.  I mean, you have a great
face, a lovely one, but . . . well . . . it just doesn't work for me.  Dykes
aren't too bad, I figure . . . I'm just not one of them."

	"Uh-huh," was all Eileen could manage.

	"Hey, there's no reason we can't be friends, though.  Hell, you
being queer doesn't bother me; you don't seem like the others."

	"The others?"

	"Yeah, the other dykes.  You know, the ones you read about and
stuff, who ogle other girls in the shower and stuff like that.  But you're
not one of those."

	Another long stretch of silence.  Finally, Eileen spoke.  "Amy," she
said flatly, "I think you should go home now.  We'll talk about this
tomorrow."

	"Okay," said Amy brightly, deciding things were effectively at an
end.  "See you tomorrow." She picked up her things and left Eileen sitting
on the couch, head resting on her hands, hunched over and staring at
absolutely nothing.

	Then, with a silent sigh, she rolled to her side, curled into a
fetal position, and cried herself to sleep.

***

	Eileen never did have her talk with Amy the next day.

	What she did find out, much later on when she had established
herself in Japan, was that Amy had told her parents about what happened. 
Furious, they'd wasted no time in moving to the Midwest, and Eileen was
unable to track them further.

	Before leaving, though, Amy had leaked the news out to all of
Annville, with predictable results.  Only her family stood by her then,
while the rest of the community scorned her as a social outcast.  She buried
herself in schoolwork, vowing never again to say that she loved anyone.

	She broke that vow in the early summer of 3028, in a matter
involving one Jennifer Allison Sakachi . . . but that story has been told.

	A year after the incident, the time came to take the first of the
satellite exams administered in conjunction with the Japanese government to
choose which foreigners would have a chance to take the *real* Exam for
entrance into what the American press called the Senshi Academy.  On a lark,
Eileen filled in her name as Eileen A. Pearcy, in memory of her first love,
who had inadvertently set her down this road.  She never realized just how
far down the road she would come, though, and when she gained admittance
into the School, she was as surprised as anyone.

***

	And I wound up here, thought Eileen.  She turned away from the
window in her office and glanced around at her spacious office.  Hundreds of
light years from Earth . . . and yet, this *was* home, here on Hinansho. 
She had to admit that she loved this city, where she could live with her
lover without the hatred of ignorant people . . . especially not people who
changed their tunes as soon as they realized that she could be used to
influence the crown in Crystal Tokyo.

	She wondered what might have happened if Amy hadn't rejected her. 
Would she *really* have focused so tightly on schoolwork if she'd had Amy as
a lover?  Just what *would* have it been like to sleep with her?  She'd
never know, she realized.  Lovemaking with anyone other than Jennifer was an
alien concept; she almost literally couldn't imagine it.  Even now, she
thought of how inferior Amy's touches and caresses would have been to Jen's.

	"Still," she said very quietly, "you still have that A in your
initial, girl.  And you never did tell her what it's for."

	She looked at her refection in the window again.  "Maybe it's time I
did."

	Oh, what the hell.  She checked her watch for the time differential,
then reached to punch in the com code.

	"Maybe then she'll tell me what's so awful about what she did in
that fourth grade football game."


===================

	I don't know that I have a lot more to say now.  I really hadn't had
anything in particular in mind when I started writing this, and the A
initial theme was really something I came up with while in line for the
cosplay at Katsucon (actually, that I was scrawling this in various
uncomfortable positions around the hotel probably accounts for many things
present in the first draft, which I was persuaded to change.

	Those persuaders, for the record, were gbeans, Corvus, and Ferchan
from Sandnet #fanfics, who were of great help in revising this story and
making it kosher (relatively speaking).

	BSSA 103 is in its preliminary stages, and if I'm really lucky I
might finish it in time for Eileen's birthday on 4 July.  But for now I hope
to concentrate on For Love and Justice II after exams. 

	Comments are, of course, welcomed at lbouyer@abs.net.  If you would
like to read 101, or any of the Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Orion backstory,
visit http://members.xoom.com/lbouyer/orion/.

LeVar Bouyer
4 May 2000