Chapter 2: A Different Type of Battle

Celeste leaned against the door of her apartment, using her weight to open it further. With a sigh, she threw her keys and her purse into the recliner. Making her protesting body move, she entered the apartment and fumbled with the series of locks on the door.

The cab ride from Jonathan’s had been uneventful. The driver had remarked that he hoped that "the bastard responsible gets what’s coming to him.” Celeste had only nodded and quietly gave him the address of her building. The rest of the ride had been conducted in silence.

Fortune had also smiled upon Celeste when she encountered the unusually empty lobby of her building. There was usually someone in the lobby checking their mail or paying their rent during the daylight hours, yet not this morning. Also absent was the presence of Mrs. Johansen, the well-meaning busybody wife of the building manager.

Celeste crossed wearily across her living room to the couch and plopped ungraciously on the cushions. Her entire body ached and protested the very idea of further motion, let alone the action itself. Giving in, Celeste drifted off into a light sleep.

* * * * *

When she woke up, she judged by the sunlight it was about mid-day. She was still stiff and sore, but the almost overwhelming sense of weakness had diminished. Pressing her lips together in determination, she pulled herself from the couch and staggered into the bathroom.

As she waited for the tub to fill with water, she gingerly took off her clothes, paying close attention to every cut, scrape, and bruise. As a Senshi, she would heal more quickly than an average person would, but she would still be miserable for the next day or so. With another sigh, she reached into the cabinet and took some Tylenol and a multivitamin.

She turned off the tap and slowly lowered herself into the welcoming water. Leaning back, she covered her face with a damp cloth and let the warm water soothe her body. When she felt considerably less stiff, she washed thoroughly, noticing that none of the cuts appeared to be infected.

With careful movements, she dried off and dressed. As she brushed and braided her hair, she paused and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her left cheek was purple with a long, angry scratch, and her lower lip was busted. “You should see the other guy,” she muttered, quickly finishing the braid.

She strolled into the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil. While she waited, she made herself a salad and a sandwich. The kettle soon whistled and Celeste silently ate her solitary meal. Finished, she rinsed her dishes, restoring her kitchen to its usual immaculate condition.

Wandering back into the living room, Celeste walked to the windows and studied the city. She finally admitted that she was slightly hurt and puzzled that Jonathan hadn’t called her, at least to make sure she made home all right. ‘Well, your disappearing act this morning is part of it,’ a part of her scolded. ‘You didn’t even stick around to thank him properly.’

She exhaled a long breath and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Christmas was quickly approaching, her second holiday season without a family. ‘Mom, Dad, Aunt Grace, I miss all of you,’ she thought, fighting back the tears.

Finally opening her eyes to look back out the window, she wondered what Jonathan would be doing for Christmas. Neither of them had spoken to the other about their families, the subject too personal for either to willingly broach. While she had been curious she and had often wondered about his family life, she respected his privacy as he had respected hers.

“Will you be going home for Christmas, Jonathan?” she murmured aloud. “Wherever your may be?”

Celeste turned her thoughts to the new year. She had been allowed to withdraw from school, citing personal reasons. While some of her professors had been reluctant to grant such a measure, Dr. Armstrong had championed her cause. When she had tried to thank him, he shook his head and asked her to keep in touch with him and to continue her studies.

She wondered what she would do with her life now. The deadline register for the spring semester had passed and her application for Edgars University would not be complete until the deadline for the summer session. ‘God, I haven’t even told Jonathan that I wouldn’t be in school next semester,’ she realized, her eyes growing wide.

‘I’ll will have to tell him,’ Celeste told herself. ‘I need to tell him I’m sorry about this morning.’

“Tonight,” she said aloud, standing straight. “I will invite him over tonight.”

She reached for her phone and dialed his number. She grew uneasy as the phone continued to ring. By the time he answered on the fifth ring, she was about to hang up. However, she stopped when she heard his voice.

“Hello?”

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“Hello?” he repeated, his tone slightly annoyed.

Taking a deep breath, Celeste forced herself to speak. “Hi, Jonathan. It’s Celeste.”

Again, there was another nerve shattering pause. “Hello, Celeste.”

“I know that I shouldn’t have disappeared this morning, especially after you helped me out last night. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

She fought down a surge of irritation at his forced reply. ‘Swallow your pride. He’s worth it,’ a part of her coached.

“I need to talk to you, Jonathan. Would you let me cook you dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know, Celeste. I had plans.”

“Please, it’s important that we talk. Besides, I’m a decent cook and it’s a free meal.”

There was another lengthy pause before she heard his sigh. “What time should I be there?”

“How about six?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye, Celeste.”

She hung up the phone and studied her apartment. She would do some dusting and vacuuming before heading to the grocery store. She desperately wanted to make things right with him.


A Different Type of Battle Celeste leaned against the door of her apartment, using her weight to open it further. With a sigh, she threw her keys and her purse into the recliner. Making her protesting body move, she entered the apartment and fumbled with the series of locks on the door. The cab ride from Jonathan’s had been uneventful. The driver had remarked that he hoped that "the bastard responsible gets what’s coming to him.” Celeste had only nodded and quietly gave him the address of her building. The rest of the ride had been conducted in silence. Fortune had also smiled upon Celeste when she encountered the unusually empty lobby of her building. There was usually someone in the lobby checking their mail or paying their rent during the daylight hours, yet not this morning. Also absent was the presence of Mrs. Johansen, the well-meaning busybody wife of the building manager. Celeste crossed wearily across her living room to the couch and plopped ungraciously on the cushions. Her entire body ached and protested the very idea of further motion, let alone the action itself. Giving in, Celeste drifted off into a light sleep. * * * * * When she woke up, she judged by the sunlight it was about mid-day. She was still stiff and sore, but the almost overwhelming sense of weakness had diminished. Pressing her lips together in determination, she pulled herself from the couch and staggered into the bathroom. As she waited for the tub to fill with water, she gingerly took off her clothes, paying close attention to every cut, scrape, and bruise. As a Senshi, she would heal more quickly than an average person would, but she would still be miserable for the next day or so. With another sigh, she reached into the cabinet and took some Tylenol and a multivitamin. She turned off the tap and slowly lowered herself into the welcoming water. Leaning back, she covered her face with a damp cloth and let the warm water soothe her body. When she felt considerably less stiff, she washed thoroughly, noticing that none of the cuts appeared to be infected. With careful movements, she dried off and dressed. As she brushed and braided her hair, she paused and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her left cheek was purple with a long, angry scratch, and her lower lip was busted. “You should see the other guy,” she muttered, quickly finishing the braid. She strolled into the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil. While she waited, she made herself a salad and a sandwich. The kettle soon whistled and Celeste silently ate her solitary meal. Finished, she rinsed her dishes, restoring her kitchen to its usual immaculate condition. Wandering back into the living room, Celeste walked to the windows and studied the city. She finally admitted that she was slightly hurt and puzzled that Jonathan hadn’t called her, at least to make sure she made home all right. ‘Well, your disappearing act this morning is part of it,’ a part of her scolded. ‘You didn’t even stick around to thank him properly.’ She exhaled a long breath and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Christmas was quickly approaching, her second holiday season without a family. ‘Mom, Dad, Aunt Grace, I miss all of you,’ she thought, fighting back the tears. Finally opening her eyes to look back out the window, she wondered what Jonathan would be doing for Christmas. Neither of them had spoken to the other about their families, the subject too personal for either to willingly broach. While she had been curious she and had often wondered about his family life, she respected his privacy as he had respected hers. “Will you be going home for Christmas, Jonathan?” she murmured aloud. “Wherever your may be?” Celeste turned her thoughts to the new year. She had been allowed to withdraw from school, citing personal reasons. While some of her professors had been reluctant to grant such a measure, Dr. Armstrong had championed her cause. When she had tried to thank him, he shook his head and asked her to keep in touch with him and to continue her studies. She wondered what she would do with her life now. The deadline register for the spring semester had passed and her application for Edgars University would not be complete until the deadline for the summer session. ‘God, I haven’t even told Jonathan that I wouldn’t be in school next semester,’ she realized, her eyes growing wide. ‘I’ll will have to tell him,’ Celeste told herself. ‘I need to tell him I’m sorry about this morning.’ “Tonight,” she said aloud, standing straight. “I will invite him over tonight.” She reached for her phone and dialed his number. She grew uneasy as the phone continued to ring. By the time he answered on the fifth ring, she was about to hang up. However, she stopped when she heard his voice. “Hello?” For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. “Hello?” he repeated, his tone slightly annoyed. Taking a deep breath, Celeste forced herself to speak. “Hi, Jonathan. It’s Celeste.” Again, there was another nerve shattering pause. “Hello, Celeste.” “I know that I shouldn’t have disappeared this morning, especially after you helped me out last night. I’m sorry.” “Okay.” She fought down a surge of irritation at his forced reply. ‘Swallow your pride. He’s worth it,’ a part of her coached. “I need to talk to you, Jonathan. Would you let me cook you dinner tonight?” “I don’t know, Celeste. I had plans.” “Please, it’s important that we talk. Besides, I’m a decent cook and it’s a free meal.” There was another lengthy pause before she heard his sigh. “What time should I be there?” “How about six?” “Fine.” “Okay, I’ll see you tonight.” “Bye, Celeste.” She hung up the phone and studied her apartment. She would do some dusting and vacuuming before heading to the grocery store. She desperately wanted to make things right with him.


Chapter 3: Clearing the Air Sailor Sol: Homefront