"That's not good," she understated.
"Nope."
"So, this Nagato chick wants you to help her set up some kinda fennish Interpol?"
"Interpol can't arrest people," I pointed out. "More like a cross between the Mounties and a coast guard."
"Whatever." Stacy turned and started to go through her suitcase, then stopped and spun back to face me with one of her most serious looks on her face. "Do you want to do this? Sign on and be a hero?"
I shrugged uncomfortably, then sighed and admitted, "No. Well... talking to people and convincing them and setting things up... that I can do. But after it happens - if it does - setting up Moondance as one of their ships, running her as, as a warship in all but name... No. It needs doing and I will if no one else steps forwards... but it scares me. I don't want that kind of thing on my shoulders, and I don't want to know that... that you might have to get one of those letters, or worse, to get yours..."
She nodded slowly and turned back to fish one of her usual going-out ensembles from the suitcase; a floor length dress over what she was already wearing and an oversized, shapeless sweater over that. With her arms curled around her waist and the rest of her figure almost completely hidden by the bulky clothes, she looked about twice her weight - but normal.
I hated the things, of course - they were hideous and she was beautiful and deserved better, but she thought that looking like a frumpy whale was better than coping with a constant barrage of hentai fanboys, so who was I to argue?
"I do," she said, softly. "I... Natalie, I need to know that what I'm doing matters. Life is wasted otherwise."
"Then we will."
She blinked. "As simple as that."
"It's important to you," I said. "How could it not be?"
"For someone who claims to be so cold-blooded about love, you can be pretty romantic," she said, and laid the clothes down in favor of stepping close and drawing me into a hug. "You really love me that much."
I thought it was very sad that even after a year together she still sounded so amazed when she said things like that. "Of course I do," I answered, deadpan. "You bring me Midol."
There was perfect silence for a moment or two, and then she punched me in the shoulder, hard. "You bitch!" she said, but when I leaned up to kiss her she was smiling.
Then she rested her forehead against mine and said, "If we do this now, your costume will get all messed up."
I sighed. "Raincheck?"
"Definitely."
We stepped apart, and by the time I had fastened the costume's gunbelt she was most of the way through slipping into the sweater. I held my arms open, wordlessly awaiting final inspection. She tugged one bit one way, then another the next, then stepped back and nodded firmly. "Perfect."
I offered her my arm, and she took it in the most courtly and feminine way she could manage. "I can keep an eye out for Nagato, if you want to talk to her."
"Yes, I would." Her voice was trying to be a little chill, but I knew her well enough for the lurking mischief to raise the hair on the back of my neck. "What does she look like?"
"Slim, Japanese, a couple inches taller than me, messy gray hair a little longer than yours, sloppy dresser."
The trap I'd sensed snapped closed. "Was she hot?"
"What?!" I squawked.
"Was. She. Hot? Did you wanna do her? You know..."
I gaped, but managed to pull together a weak counterattack before she could come up with something even worse. "Where the hell did that come from?"
The joking drained out of the air fast enough for the few other fen in that back hallway to give us curious looks. "Doing this... We could die. I'd rather we looked for a third than leave the other alone."
Life was never that simple, of course, but on the other hand... the thought of Stace's face at seeing the grim, uniformed man at the door bearing a black-sealed envelope loomed large in my mind. "I'll look. But..."
"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I won't let anyone near that isn't good enough for you."
"If she makes you happy, she's good enough... and, yes, vice versa."
"Good," she said softly, then brightened and raised her voice to public levels. "Now! Let's go show 'em that last year's Grenadier is as good as ever!"
I guess I'm in a clear minority in thinking that the fanfic route makes more sense and plays better as a story. Ah, well. Leaving it ambiguous might not be as much fun, but it can work, too, and anyway doesn't stop individual authors from viewing the setting as something that crystallized out of a supersaturated solution around the seed element of Haruhi's crack-brained worldview.
Ja, -n
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"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"