AN: This will be a succession of drabbles/shorts on Miku and Luka's journey into raising children. Wolfy, this is for you!

Speaking of, here's a message from her on this fic series! "This was born out of my need for fluff and turned out as a comfort drabble series full of fluff, useless idiots in love and fun banter. Hope you all like it as much as we did in brainstorming and writing it. All the writing credits go to teamJNPR, I just supply ideas."

(Psst, everyone, Wolfy does way more than that – she's just being humble.)

Part One – Cravings.

It's two in the morning, and Miku can't sleep.

Scratch that – Luka can't sleep, and is purposely keeping Miku awake just so she doesn't have to lie there on her own.

'Mmphf,' Miku says eloquently into her one lonely pillow. Luka has gathered the rest and made a nest, and yet still complains about her back.

Which would be fine, but it's two in the morning.

'Wake up,' Luka says, prodding Miku in the side. 'Miku, Miku, Miku, Miku, Mi-'

'I'm up!' Miku says through gritted teeth. 'For the love of god, I'm up.'

They lie in silence for a minute, Miku swapping her pillow over to the cool side as she listens to the TV murmur quietly in the background. Some reality show that neither of them like but watch anyway, because they're not awake enough for the commitment of Netflix.

'You know what I need right now?' Luka says.

'Sleep? A back massage? Sleep?'

'Tuna.'

'… Tuna.'

'Yes.'

Well, that was helpful.

'Why on earth do you need tuna?'

'I think it's a craving. It feels a lot like a craving, and I really need it right now. Like really. So, you know you love me?'

'I love you, Luka, but there's no tuna left in the house.'

'Get some?' She upturns the end of the sentence like a question, but Miku feels like there's only one answer she's allowed to give right now.

She tries anyway, and earns a smack with a well aimed pillow.

So, it's not long before Miku shoves on tracksuit bottoms, zips a coat over her pyjama top, and heads out to the all-night supermarket. She holds several different kinds of tuna in her basket, unsure which is the right kind.

The guy at the checkout is as bleary-eyed as her, taking twice as long to scan things as usual.

Beep.

Miku's eye twitches.

Beep.

Her fists tighten.

… Beep.

She almost opens her mouth, but decides against it. Instead, she slams her car door a little more aggressively than usual.

Luka is waiting eagerly in bed, as she shouts at Miku down the stairs. 'Tuna?!'

After Miku waits a moment and realises that Luka is making no move to come downstairs, she takes the bag up to the bedroom.

She dumps it on the bed. Luka sorts through her newfound treasure with a somewhat crazy glint in her eyes, and when she finally lands on a suspiciously plain tin, she holds it aloft like a trophy.

She looks straight in Miku's eyes as she whispers.

'My precious.'

'I'm glad someone thinks this is funny.'

'Oh, yes.'

With a short hiss, Luka pulls the tin open, and sits it on the bed. The generic smell of seafood hits the air with a pungent kick, and Miku vows to never give in to Luka's cravings again. It's some kind of paste, and Miku's sure there's probably fish tails and eyeballs in there.

Luka slowly dips a finger into the paste, dragging it until she's got a sizeable… chunk? Lump? There's no way Miku can make this seem appealing in the slightest.

Her tongue pokes out her mouth, and she gives it a tentative lick. Eyes lighting up, Luka places her finger in her mouth and sucks.

'Oh, yeah,' Miku deadpans. 'Kinky.'

Luka pops her finger out her mouth with a wet sound. 'Yeah, you like that?'

They stare at each other for a moment, seeing who'll break first.

Miku's mouth twitches, and with that, she dissolves into a puddle of laughter, face down on the bed.

Once Luka's satisfied her craving, Miku snuggles up to her in bed for a while, slowly drifting off. The TV's changed to another program, a terribly dramatic soap opera re-run. Her eyes are closing, and Luka's breath has slowed.

It's four in the morning and Miku is finally allowed to rest.

…

…

'Miku?'

'Mmphf.' She's expecting a thank-you, for all her hard work, and Luka's voice is soft enough that she thinks she'll get one.

'You know… crackers would go really well with this paste… Miku, Miku, where are you going? Come back to bed, I didn't mean it!'