A/N: This is just where I'll eventually end up dumping some of the shorter, less structured things that I've done on a whim, I think. They mostly consist of just silly, everyday things. (Expect nothing exciting or dramatic, basically.) Not in any particular order, and certainly not chronological at all.

She almost considered ignoring it altogether. It was just another reminder of the sharp absence at her side, and if she picked up and it turned out to be another telemarketer, she really thought the poor phone wouldn't survive her frustration this time. Beeeeep. The dusty machine chirped again, as if sensing her annoyance, and she finally relented. It wasn't the phone's fault that Naru was an incurable idiot.

"Hello?" She answered tiredly, bracing herself for a would you like to go on a thrilling vacation to the Fiji Islands, or a this is a national survey regarding earthquake safety measures blah blah blah…

"Mai."

The voice was unmistakable. Her grip on the phone tightened, and she pressed the speaker to her ear so hard that it dug into her skin, just to make sure that she hadn't been hallucinating. "Naru? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Don't 'Who else would it be?' me! Do you know how long you've been gone? Two weeks! And I haven't heard from you even once!"

"There was no time during the case." He said it so matter-of-factly that wasn't even an excuse; it was a reason. A reasonable reason given by a very reasonable person, and of course she knew that it wasn't always easy to find time to call home on cases. It wasn't as if she didn't know what could happen on cases all too well, after all.

"I thought… I thought you…"

"I wouldn't be so stupid as to let something happen to me," he cut in.

She made a noise in her throat that started as a scoff and morphed into a protest somewhere along the way and ended up as what could most closely be classified as a strangled hiccup. Whatever it was, it elicited a brief, soft laugh from him.

"Are you done with the case?" She asked. "How were Martin and Luella? Are they well? Is Lin coming back to Japan this time, too? And Madoka?"

"It's over. They're fine. Lin is coming back."

"When?"

"In a week."

If you're done with the case, why do you have to wait another week? She swallowed the childish complaint; it was only fair that his parents got to spend time with him, too—time not spoiled by supernatural phenomenon, that is. Though Naru would probably consider that the opposite of spoiled. "It's been a while since you've gone back, hasn't it? Did you enjoy London?"

"What is there to enjoy?"

She laughed. "I don't know. The scenery, or the museums, or…"

"One city is hardly much different from another." She could practically see the disinterested expression on his face as he said it. "Never mind that. I need you to do something."

She scowled. Of course he wouldn't call just for the sake of calling; she didn't know what she'd expected. "What is it?" She asked, a little petulantly.

"Go to the convenience store and pick up today's newspaper. One with an international section."

"What? Why?"

"It would take too long to explain."

"Well, then, it looks like you'll be on the phone for a long time," she informed him, and he sighed.

"You'll know when you see it," he said, still giving no explanation. With that, he hung up, and she was left muttering curses at the dial tone in an empty room.

When she had berated the innocent phone enough to satisfy herself for the time being, she retrieved her coat and stepped outside into the chilly night air. The convenience store was only two blocks away, and she rounded the corner of the apartment building with a shiver, passing the scratched-up pay phone just ahead. It was a relief when she finally reached the warmth of the air conditioned store and headed straight for the newspapers.

She unfolded the first one that caught her eye and skimmed through it for the international news section. Bank failures, civil unrest. A diplomatic scandal. Tensions in the Pacific. She couldn't figure out what he'd been talking about. Isn't that head of yours good for anything? Shut up, Naru, she told him. Apparently, she was hearing voices in her head now, too.

Flipping through the pages, she finally found the article he'd been interested in, probably. Police Close Case on London Serial Murders; No Suspect Arrested, the headline blared. Authorities consult researchers from the Society of Psychic Research. Claims of supernatural involvement—truth or fraud? She waited until she'd paid for the thing before she crumpled it up angrily and threw it at a wall—and then reluctantly picked it back up again. Littering was a crime.

Tucking the bundle under her arm and sticking her hands in her pocket to ward off the cold, she stalked back toward their apartment building, head lowered. It wasn't until she was already at the ground-level door that she noticed that the light on their floor was on. Her breath caught in her throat, and she practically sprinted up all four flights of stairs, stopping only when her frantic fumbling proved inadequate for turning the doorknob. She inhaled deeply and tried to steady her breathing before pushing the door open impatiently.

"You forgot to lock the door when you went out," were the first words out of his mouth when he glanced up from his book, the black suitcase still propped up next to the sofa where he was sitting.

"Naru!"

She practically slammed into him, throwing her arms around him in a constrictor hold and only relaxing when his breathing sounded a little strained—not that he would ever complain out loud. It wasn't until she was absolutely sure that the mass underneath her was solid—that she wasn't dreaming—that she dared to lift her head to look at his face.

"I hate you."

He sighed in surrender. "I know."

"You said 'a week' when I asked."

"You asked when Lin was coming back," he pointed out.

"Well, obviously, I thought you'd be coming back together!"

"That's your mistake, not mine."

"Why didn't you correct me?" She demanded.

"I didn't see the need."

"Then, why did you ask me to buy this stupid paper?"

"You would have asked me about the case first thing anyways."

"Of course!" She picked up the now hopelessly wrinkled bundle of papers and waved it angrily. "Have you seen it? They're calling you a fraud."

He shrugged indifferently. "Public ignorance is hardly something new."

"Still, you could at least get a little angry, you know. They don't even know anything about you."

He gave her a faint smile and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "And deprive you of your chance to sulk?"

She frowned, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt. "I'm not sulking. I'm getting mad for a good reason. It's because you're an idiot."

"If I'm an idiot, what does that make you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Someone who nearly had a heart attack thanks to you."

That got a quiet laugh out of him. "That was the idea," he murmured.

"You're evil, you know," she told him. "Deceitful. Awful. The enemy of all honest people."

"If they're all at your level of intelligence, I haven't much to worry about."

"You could stand to worry a little more," she grumbled. But she was finally assuaged, and she adjusted herself into a proper sitting position before tossing the newspaper at the wastebasket with a vengeance. It missed spectacularly.

"I rest my case," Naru breathed, barely audible but for the fact that he'd murmured it right beside her ear. She elbowed him.

"Don't you dare. I'll mismatch all of your socks while you're away."

He gave in with sigh and let her rest her head on his shoulder as he returned his attention to his book.

"Is it really fine that you're here this early? Didn't your parents complain?" She finally asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue.

"They did."

"And you still came?"

He shrugged. "You complain louder."

"I haven't complained at all," she retorted indignantly, and he finally relented.

"They've decided to visit for Christmas," he admitted. "They're coming with Lin."

She blinked in surprise, then giggled a little at the idea. "Poor Lin," she commented. "He'll be subjected to conversation. He must have been horrified."

"Only as much as usual," Naru dismissed.

"And whose fault is that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Being in your company is a waking nightmare, you know."

"So you've said," he remarked dryly.

"I'm glad you're back."

"You've said that, too."

"I haven't," she objected. "Not yet."

"Not in words," he allowed, laying a hand over hers as she ran her fingers over the length of the seam on his sleeve. She stopped midway and turned her palm over to interlace her fingers through his, lifting her head a little so she could see his face.

"Welcome back," she murmured quietly, the only sound in the dim room aside from the rustle of another page turning in his lap. The rustling stopped, too, then, and he bent forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I'm home," he agreed.

In the ensuing silence, it was almost as if he'd never been gone at all.