Return of the Firebird

Author: Nail42

Rated: PG13

Chapter 1! Yay!

Also, I do not own Sailor Moon.

Chapter 1

How Things Change

Raye looked outside through the large porch window within her house - no, not her house, their house – the house belonging to her and her husband. As she continued to stir the pot that stood at the height of her chest on the stove, she kept a happy eye through the kitchen, across the seamlessly attached dining room and out the spotless window; and as she did, a smile crossed her face. She was no longer a miko in Tokyo, in fact she had downgraded her lifestyle in the eyes of most. This, however, didn't bother her in the least – she was satisfied. Not much else had changed about her, aside from her lifestyle and location.

Her hair was still worn the same way, the same length, and she was still as slim and beautiful as ever. In fact the real changes were few, but they were great. She had fulfilled one dream with the changes: she had married the one she loved. She was no longer a priestess of respect and mystery, but rather she was what most might consider one of the lowest careers in modern society: she was a rancher's wife in the middle of nowhere. That fact had even her friends shocked. In fact she was about as shocked as they were at her own decision; but, nonetheless, that's the way it was, and the way she hoped it could continue.

The pot on the stove was actually rather foreign to her hands, compared to the hands that normally handled it. The task of cooking normally went to Molly Baker, who also lived on this ranch. However, this evening was Friday night and that meant it was Raye's turn to cook, and she always brought a variety to the Westernized diet of the working men who lived in the house because she always made use of her knowledge in Japanese cooking. Tonight was a beef dish, which suited everyone just fine, since it was, after all, a black angus ranch.

The ranch was called the High Note Ranch, situated about twenty miles west of Cheyenne, Wyoming, halfway between the aforementioned city and Laramie to the West. The unique structures of rock to the North, the Medicine Bow Mountains to the West, the giant Rocky Mountains to the South, and the endless prairie of the Great Plains to the East surrounded the 20,000-acre ranch. Being the center of all this geography meant that the High Note was a mix of all kinds of terrain, from deep canyons of red stone to green forests of Aspen and Pine, to hill packed plains. The grass grew tall here since it had two creeks and one reservoir flowing through the property. This particular spring was a wet one, and so the summer grass was, where it hadn't been grazed, chest high and indeed very green.

Straight through the middle of the ranch ran a winding dirt road that lead to a minor highway that ran from Laramie to Cheyenne and then. Situated dead center in the Ranch was the nine acre complex that held the coral, barn, machine shop, bunk houses, and ranch house. Raye, her husband, Molly, and their close friend Mel all stayed in the two floor, five bedroom ranch house, while the ranch hands, six in total, stayed in the twenty-two hundred square foot bunkhouse, and quite comfortable, as one might think.

Despite the reputation of Raye's "ranch wife" title that made most women cringe, life was actually quite comfortable. The ranch had enough workers for all to do a certain job and get back to the ranch yard before sunset, and while the work was hard, they normally came back with a little bit of energy to spare. The women, Raye and Molly, found the house work to be plenty, but also found that they had plenty of free time, and that they actually enjoyed their lifestyles.

Whether she was cooking, or she was doing something else, or simply sitting and relaxing, Raye always had one thing she did this time of evening as the sun set in front of the back porch. Raye would always watch her grandfather-in-law, her husband, and Mel train in a martial art of sorts in the meadow behind the house. Her grandfather-in-law and her husband trained with swords normally, while Mel always used a staff. It was odd, really, as each had a similar style but very different weapon. Raye's husband would use a bokken, her grandfather a wooden broad sword similar to a Viking design, and Mel would swap his weapons between a regular staff, a wooden yari, and a wooden naginata. This particular night Mel had the naginata out, as it was his favorite.

Raye chuckled as she watched Mel duck under a swing from her grandfather's sword and then counter attack with the blade of the naginata by swinging low at his feet. Yet the older man, who well into his seventies, simply leapt over the blow and came down on Mel, knocking him to the ground. Then her husband entered combat with his grandfather. He was, as the grandfather had always said, a natural with the blade of the Japanese katana, and his martial art encouraged the use of any weapon involving a blade, and to use whatever the person was most comfortable with – and his grandson's talent with a bokken was not to be over looked. He swooped in with a leap over a rolling Mel, and came down with an overhead blow, which was parried by the older man. He then blocked a counter attack blow, and struck back again from the side. That too was blocked and the two fighters backed off from one another and attacked again.

Raye always found her husband attractive, but when he was training like this, his thick brown hair blowing in the wind, cut long at the nape of his neck with long bangs that framed strong facial features, gray eyes glimmering in the sunset, and strong, powerful body moving gracefully in his attacks and defenses, she could not help but find Chad Kumada especially handsome. It made her heart flutter and lips quiver to think that she shared the same life, as well as the same bed as Chad. He had grown so much since she first met him all those years ago. First he was a shaggy haired bum when they met in Tokyo, Japan. He left for a while when his father died in America and left the Ranch to him, but they would meet again three years later in the middle of a third world war. He showed up in her life once more, but this time as an adult and as a full-fledged soldier of the American Army. He was a mobile suit pilot, and would later become one of the most renowned aces in the war. It was during the war's final months when, in the thought that they may never again see each other, Raye and Chad married. Now, two years later, here she was, a ranch wife and happily doing so.

As Raye watched Chad and his friends practice, almost wishing she were out there and training with them, Molly stepped into the house from the front door. She had been in Cheyenne, buying groceries and had even been running late, but had finally made it home. With bags weighing down almost every inch of her upper body, Molly struggled through the door and into the living room, smelling Raye's cooking in the air. She smiled and set a couple of the many bags in her arms on the ground to rest, setting her eyes on Raye in front of the stove.

"Wow, that smells amazing, Raye," Molly grinned, "As usual."

"Thanks," Raye waved back to Molly distractedly keeping her eyes on the men outside. Her mindless, monotone voice made Molly shake her head and chuckle.

"Our oh-so-sexy men must be practicing again, eh?" Molly asked as she strode into the kitchen. She stepped to Raye and peeked around her side at whatever it was that was cooking. She switched her lips from a contented smile to an off center look of slight exasperation.

"Well, Raye, whatever smells good is about to smell burnt if you don't watch the pot." She said as she swooped back to her grocery bags and began to empty them. Meanwhile, Raye snapped back to the task at hand, and shrieked as the pot below her boiled over onto the hot stove, sending fumes of beef, soy sauce and assorted vegetables into the air in a not so pleasant fashion.

"Ah!" Raye cried, "You're not supposed to boil over!" she said, scolding the bubbling over dish.

"Told you," Molly smirked as she tossed a bag of carrots and a few gallons of milk into the refrigerator beside the stove, then looked over to Raye as she closed the chilled door, "But you were too busy watching the studs outside." She said pointing to the back yard with a thumb over he shoulder. However she continued with a smile and a shrug, "Then again, I guess you've the got license for it," she cackled.

Raye cocked an eyebrow as she turned the heat down on her food and stirred the pot to try and calm the wildly boiling dinner. She managed to do so and turned to Molly, watching as she continued to put away more groceries, "Do you need any help, Molly?"

"Nope, you need all your attention on that food." Molly smiled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Raye asked with a growl.

Molly, in her usual, calm fashion simply flung a hand into the air like a whip and brought it down to charismatically grab a plastic bag stuffed with snow peas from the counter behind her then wind up and toss them into the refrigerator, "Nothing, really. You're usually not one to get distracted easily. It just seems odd. Funny, but odd."

Raye shrugged, "I suppose so. I guess I enjoy watching how he's grown."

Molly stopped halfway between the ‘fridge and the counter with a head of lettuce. She let her shoulders slump with a dreamy smile on her lips and she reached out to Raye's shoulder, clasping it gently, "They both grew. Mel isn't even the boy I remember anymore. Yeah, he has that nerdy quality to him when you put him in front of a computer, but he's gone from…well, let's face it, he was a wimp…to what you see out there. Chad went through the same transformation. As did I. But just remember, Raye," Molly leaned in close to her dear friend, "He's proud of the changes you have made too. More than proud. Believe me, I can see it in the way he looks at you. He's simply amazed by you. And you know, when you've seen the kind of things a man like Chad has seen, amazement is hard to come by."

Chad had indeed seen a great many things in his lifetime. His younger years were nothing out of the ordinary really, but when he was a soldier, he saw things great and small, good and bad, and it all caused a change in him, for better or for worse. Most would agree, however, that most of the changes were good. Chad, and Mel too, both of whom had always been thin, were healthy, strong, and toned. Mel, though shorter by two inches, had powerful legs and a stomach that could make Brad Pitt jealous. Chad was tall, tan, and toned like a Roman statue. The tank top undershirt he wore with blue jeans accentuated his powerfully built arms and chest in a way that could have been showoff-ish if they weren't in the middle of nowhere. His chest was like two square stones set beside each other at an angle that rose from his body and his arms didn't seem to have a single muscle that couldn't be seen when put into action.

It may seem odd that he trained in jeans and an undershirt, but that was the way of things in this particular style of practice. Practice was informal, and for the most part, for entertainment. It was indeed very competitive and "Papa", Chad's grandfather, almost always set the pace with a serious, nearly threatening style of training. All three were quite practiced by now, though it was obvious to the trained eye that Chad and Papa were years ahead of Mel in skill. This was simply because Mel had joined the routine within the last few years while Chad and Papa had been training in this style of combat since Chad was five years old. This being said, one can imagine the shock that Raye had when she found out about Chad's secret talent. The practice kept all three in excellent shape and was extremely lively. While Chad and Mel loved the art for fun, however, Papa seemed to stress practice. When Mel and Chad didn't want to go outside, the old man was force them outside and make them practice. No one really knew why, it was just his way, and Mel and Chad went with it out of respect for the patriarch.

That respect came from both age and his skill. Papa was old, yes, but he was as lively as a thirty year old. In fact, the average American thirty-year-old male might consider him exceptional, even without the factor of age. This was as true as always tonight as Papa continued to defend and repel both Mel and Chad.

Papa roared out in his deep, dignified and well-spoken voice, "Come one boys, get up and get in here! I'm an old man after all," he spoke, his sword held at his side, and his two opponents left panting in front of him, "You'd think I was invincible with the way you two fight me!"

"And what's to convince us otherwise?" Mel wheezed as he straightened up and got into his stance.

"Come and make it known that I'm not, Melvin." Papa said calmly, his long, tied back, gray hair blowing in the wind.

Mel took the invitation and attacked. He started with a leap to his left and then made an upward jab with the butt of his naginata, and when it was blocked, came back around the opposite way with the bladed end of his weapon. Papa leapt away from the attack, but Mel twisted with his follow through and knelt as he came back around, gripping the naginata by the butt and made a sweeping slice at Papa's leg. The old man flipped his blade over in front of the attack in a strong defensive strike. Mel stood quickly and readied his next attack. Mel was ready to swing overhead at Papa, but he ducked and countered with an upward, slanted cut, catching Mel by surprise in the left side. The young man yelped and lost his balance, falling to the right. He took his time to get up as Chad took his turn.

Chad began with his bokken at his side, flying behind him as she charged. Then swung up at Papa who parried to his left, stopping the bokken from hitting him in the ribs. Chad slid to the right and around Jonathan, recalling his bokken from the first strike and trying for a downward slice at the old man's neck. But by pure reaction and being used to his current enemy, he cut his strike off short as Papa turned to strike first. Because of his reckoning, Chad was able to block the blow and he swung his entire body under the old man's blade and rolled on the ground to Papa's front side. However his grandfather was ready for him, answering the move with an overhead blow that Chad parried. It was exactly what he wanted. It was what he'd always been taught about his grandfather's style of swordplay: When one can't find an opening, one makes an opening.

Chad smirked in triumph as he parried the blow over his head, his body in a kneeling position. He then struck forward with his entire body, shooting up with the power of his muscular legs and gave his grandfather the full force of his shoulder to the old man's chest. The blow could not be blocked at the time and Jonathan fell back to the ground backwards. Before his eyes were even open again, Chad's blade was at his throat. Jonathan smiled and nodded.

"Gotcha, Papa. About time too." Chad smiled, "Been what, two weeks since I've done it?"

"And a week since any of you have managed to get me," Papa said, mentioning one of Mel's rare victories. He groaned as Chad and Mel both helped the man up. Papa wiped the dust and grass and other prairie debris from his torso and legs then looked up to the house, as did the other two men, as they all heard the screen door of the back porch slide open.

Raye stood in the opening and called to them with her loud voice, "Alright, guys, dinner is ready!"

"Right on!" Chad happily yelped and jogged for the house.

Papa chuckled at his son's excitement and walked back slowly with a very sore Mel at his side.

Mel sighed as he watched Chad's run to the house, "I don't get it, Papa. Where does he get all that energy? We've been going at it for two hours and he still has enough energy to run the hundred-meter dash? What the heck!"

Papa laughed aloud, "It's in his blood to have a lot of energy as long as he's in good shape. Don't worry, you did well yourself."

Mel shrugged, "I dunno, I feel like I can't keep up with you two. You guys are on a whole other level."

"That might be true, Melvin," Papa put a strong hand on Mel's shoulder, "But do not forget that we have practiced swordplay for most of our lives. You, however, have only been with use for a short while. All things considered, you are very talented," he stopped for a moment as they got to the porch and began to walk up the steps, "Melvin, your problem isn't strength or lack of talent. It's hesitation – is it because I'm an old man you don't take an opening when you have one? You hesitate in your attacks, and that is your problem."

Mel stopped and looked away from his teacher for a moment. Hesitation in battle had been a problem for him before, and he hated to think about it. When a third world war broke out over four years ago, Mel and Chad met for the first time as teammates within a mobile suit platoon. Mel's first spell of combat showed his weakness of hesitation quite clearly. Back then it was fear, but what was his problem now? He had a hard time trying to figure it all out, but, as it usually happened, something distracted him from thinking about the matter too much. In this case it was the smell of Raye's cooking. He hopped up the porch, slid his boots off and set them outside the door and leapt into the house to join the others for dinner.

~ ~ ~

Snuggling back into the comfort of her soft pillows and fluffy sheets, Raye got comfortable within the queen-sized bed she and Chad shared. She was alone in the bed for the moment, though it was relatively early, being only nine in the evening. Her eyes crept along the English words of the book she was reading, a historical book Mel had given her a while back. It was the history of Wyoming, the state she now lived in and so far she was enjoying the rich, wild history of the still untamed land. The land around her home was one that seemed almost untouched by human hands, and was still very much wild and fresh. The air was clean, the climate was refreshing, and the wildlife was abundant. It all combined to be a very attractive place for the Princess of Mars to make her stay.

She looked up from her book as she heard the closed door open with the twist of the doorknob. Chad stepped in quietly, looking to her with a loving smile. He was clothed in a robe and had a few evening clothes underneath; meanwhile his left hand carried his bokken at his side.

"That was a good dinner, tonight, love," Chad said as he walked across the room to the large oak cabinet he and his wife shared, and reaching above it hung up his wooden sword on two knobs that were drilled into the wall.

"Thanks, I almost burned it, actually," she said as Chad disrobed himself and slid into the bed beside her. She had been married to him for two years, and yet she still shivered with delight when he slid under the covers with her.

Chad grinned and wagged his head a little, "The great Raye Kumada burning food? What's the world coming to?" he asked kiddingly.

"Don't even start, Chad. Besides," Raye said as she turned over in the sheets to face him, smiling a seductive grin, "I was distracted at the time."

Chad's lips shifted from a grin to a Harrison Ford smirk, a look he'd developed with age, and spoke with a cheerful tone, "I get the feeling I'm about to be too," he chuckled, "And quicker than usual to boot!"

"When a girl like me is turned on," Raye whispered as she leaned forward, turning her body toward him, beginning to crawl over him, "Prepare for invasion, mister."

Chad responded with a smile, "Tally-ho, gents, it's gonna be a long night tonight!" He said in an impressive, but faux, British accent.

Raye was as attractive as she was when Chad had first laid eyes on her. Being her husband allowed him to see her in a whole new light – he was the only person, as far as he knew, to see her in a want, with a need, for relations. He never blushed, never hesitated, but when given the chance took her without any argument what so ever. After all, a single glimpse at Raye, especially at night, could turn him on in a heartbeat. She was slim with a toned stomach, shapely hips, smooth, long legs, hair that shimmered, even in the dimmest light, a dark hue of purple or blue, and a face that still drove him wild. Other parts of her body, not needing to be mentioned, added to the affect of her attractiveness now that they were married. To make a long story short, she was beautiful, so beautiful that Chad had trouble even thinking of a description.

He wrapped his arms around his mate as she leaned over the top of his chest, pressing her soft chest to his. Her warm breath rushed against his face and when their lips finally met, electricity seemed to bring the relatively slow meeting to life and both took on the task of capturing the other's mouth with their own. As Chad had always imagined, Raye's kiss was like that of a goddess, one that felt like it could heal him if he were wounded, cure him if he were ill, and cheer the saddest of feelings.

Raye groaned into Chad's mouth, running her small hands up his chiseled torso, feeling the indentations of his abs and chest. She ground her hips to his, silently screaming her need for him. Then, almost as soon as they had begun, they stopped.

Something was wrong. Actually, something was making noise – a constant, light, nearly cheerful beeping. Both husband and wife looked about curiously, trying to pinpoint the noise. It wasn't any of their cell phones, it wasn't the room's house phone, and it certainly wasn't an alarm clock. What was it? Finally Raye turned over in bed, sitting on the stomach of her spouse, gaining a groan of protest from him. She looked toward the oak dresser that stood below the hung up bokken. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she got up and strode to the cabinet.

"What is it, Raye?" Chad asked, flopping the covers off of himself and standing up. He walked up behind Raye as she opened the dresser and opened up a drawer that held her jewelry. Inside the drawer was a small, red, round makeup kit, and the rims of it were flashing gold, continually beeping without stopping. She took in a slow gasp and Chad sighed.

"No way," Chad asked, "That's not what I think it is, is it?"

Raye, replied blankly, "My communicator," she said, referring to the piece of equipment the Sailor Scouts had once used, years ago, to communicate with each other.

Chad rolled his eyes and nodded, "It is what I think it is."

Raye nudged him and opened the folding communicator up, seeing a familiar, blonde haired face in the screen.

"Serena?" she asked, tilting her head, "What is it? Is something the matter?"

Serena's face was serious and she made her point quickly. Raye knew something was wrong – this was abnormal for her friend.

"Amy says it will be safer out at your ranch. Could we drop in?" Serena asked.

"Um…" Raye looked back at Chad, who had his face buried in his right hand. He raised his left hand in a wave of apathy, "Yes, you can do that. What's wrong?"

"It's a long story…and I don't think you'd believe me right away anyway." Serena said plainly, "We will be there tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Raye asked, "Wait, where are you? Why don't we come to see you?"

"Because, we don't have time – and the ranch is secluded and safer. We already checked everything." Serena said. She was sounding more like Amy than she was herself.

Raye began to wonder if had been such a good idea to leave her girls in the first place, "Alright," she said, "I'll be here."

Writing about Chad and Raye's relationship always gives me such joy...*sniffle*