I haven't watched Code Geass in years, so sorry if I screwed up the timeline a little. Anyway, in this fic, Kallen knows about C.C. being immortal and Lulu being Zero.

Disclaimer: All I own is a Word document soon to be uploaded.

God-damn-it, Microsoft Word, stop squiggly-lining Lelouch's and Kallen's names.

–X–

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

You can't possibly still be in bed.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

Well, I am, so deal the fuck with it.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

Language, language. But then again, I suppose all those premenstrual hormones are making you more vulgar than usual.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I CRUSH YOUR MANHOOD.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

Well. I'm glad Nunally and I have a few years more before we're forced to deal with…all this.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

Aren't you supposed to be in class? Why don't you go back to being a pain in the ass at Ashford instead of on my phone?

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

It's a free period.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

Whatever. Stop massaging me.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

…I'm not.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

THAT WAS A TYPO. I MEANT 'MESSAGING'.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Lelouch

I understand completely. It's a very hormonal period for you. No need for any embarrassment-a little Freudian slip is inevitable in times like these.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

THAT WAS NOT A 'SLIP' OF ANY KIND. IT WAS A TYPO.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

Did you get that?

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

CONTROL TO THE PRETTY BOY. REPLY.

NEW MESSAGE FROM: Kallen

You evil little half-Britannian manbitch.

–X–

Something Lelouch did to entertain himself, whenever lessons proved to be too dull for his liking, was to imagine what the world would think, if they knew that Zero was an outstanding seventeen-year-old student, who smiled at and tenderly cared for his blind younger sister, who (unwillingly) took part in the crazy antics organized by the student council president, who played a killer game of chess, who knew how to cook (and was pretty damn good at it, for a boy with a maid.)

Some would shake their heads in disbelief. Some–probably his fangirls–would fall into hysterics. Some would mock the Britannian Empire for being outsmarted by a teenager.

Most would probably wonder if they were being punked by some bastard with too much time on his hands.

Whatever reactions he imagined never failed to curl the corners of his mouth up in a smirk. That afternoon, picturing the looks on the Britannian Imperial Family's faces if they knew that Zero was childishly antagonizing his most valuable pawn in the chess game of war that he'd set up almost made him chuckle in amused delight.

Massaging. Ha. Hahahahahahaha.

–X–

Kallen threw her phone across the room. It ricocheted off her corkboard and bounced to a rest on her bed.

She glared at it. Stupid Dictionary function. Stupid Kallen. Stupid, stupid Kallen. Now she would have to endure Lelouch's damned smirks for approximately a few months.

Hi, insanity. Haven't seen you in a while.

(Strictly speaking, Lelouch's smirks drove her crazy in more ways than one, but like she'd really tell that to anyone on this side of the grave.)

Kallen buried her face in her pillow and curled up in the fetal position. And to top it all off…she was having the worst period cramps ever. She groaned, not knowing whether she was groaning because of the cramps or because of the Lelouch/typo crisis.

Probably both.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not female."

Kallen sat up like she'd been electrocuted. Which was something that she truly regretted two seconds later; as pain shot up her abdomen.

"Too bad, then, since you already look like one," she said through clenched teeth, trying to get back into a lying position as painlessly as possible.

He sighed, rolled his (extremely pretty) eyes and placed a packet of painkillers on her bedside table.

"C.C. swears by those," he said, gesturing to the tiny white capsules.

Kallen eyed the pills with a touch of amazement. Lelouch followed her gaze.

"I suppose even immortal sixteen-year-old females have menstrual cycles."

"You'd have thought she reached menopause long ago," she muttered, tearing open the packet with her teeth and swallowing two pills at once; he laughed at her joke.

"All right–so do you want your massage lying on your back or on your stomach?"

Kallen choked.

No, you are not allowed to throw a lamp at him; that's C.C's job. Now take a nice deeeeep breath and tell him…

(Never let it be said that she didn't at least try to control her very short fuse.)

"That. Was. A BLOODY FUCKING TYPO! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, OR WILL I HAVE TO BEAT IT INTO YOUR HEAD?!"

(The operative word being tried.)

Lelouch sighed again, more theatrically this time. "I didn't mean anything. It does help with menstrual cramps. Of course, you could just lie around in bed stuffing your face with chocolate and painkillers, but from what Milly told me, a massage and a hot shower is often the best cure."

She stared up at him. "You actually asked Milly because you knew I was having period cramps?"

At first she was touched, because she could vividly imagine Rivalz and Milly's teasing and Lelouch patiently listening to it. Then it sunk in: Milly, mentally unsound, gossip-addicted head of the student council, who was almost certainly running a five-page feature in the school paper on the secret love affair between Lelouch Lamperouge and Kallen Stadtfeld that very minute.

She slammed a pillow on her face and groaned, not for the first time that day.

"I know, I know," she could hear him saying. "But anyway, we've all endured much worse. Remember how she supposedly unearthed a teacher-student romance between Shirley and her swim coach last time?"

Kallen almost laughed. Shirley had refused to show up for student council meetings for about two months.

Then Lelouch prised the pillow off her head. "So I'm just thinking, if she's already busy turning the school paper into a tabloid, we may as well bear it with a smile –which of course you will be incapable of if your cramps are that bad."

She looked up at him, the blue eyes meeting the violet. She took in the sincerity in them.

The Knightmare pilot, the Black Knight, the girl who always told herself that she was not some frail little Britannian student–she nodded.

–X–

Sorry for the ramble-y sentences.