I was listening to this song by Blake Shelton called 'Honey Bee' and it's so sweet! Country music isn't really my thing, but the lyrics, mmh! I wanted to share this with my 1886 fans; a little bit of sugar and spice for you! Hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own KHR, or any of the characters here. I do not own Honey Bee either. They belong to Akira Amano and Blake Shelton respectively.

~You be my soft and sweet...~

It was evident in the little things... A fleeting glance, a gentle smile, the smell of freshly baked bread when he came home every day, the subtle twitch of her lips that told him she was about to laugh long and loud...

Yes, the little things. She would sit comfortably in his chair for hours on end, Hibird in her lap as she read one of his books. She wanted to think like him, she had said in her defence. He would always scowl because it was his chair, but when she did eventually vacate it, he would be surrounded by her; her scent would linger and her warmth would calm him from a long and hard day's work.

~I'll be your strong and steady...~

When there was an attack on the family, he would be needed to protect. It was his job; not that he cared what those herbivores did, but by attacking them, the enemy would, in a sense, be breaking the law. He would be there to ensure that discipline was observed. Discipline was the one thing he would never give up no matter what and he would often get the other family members for disrupting it.

Which was why when he walked into the kitchen and found her near tears because of one of the arguments she'd had with the Storm Guardian, she had ran past him and he had wielded his tonfas ready to exact justice.

Nobody understood why two very bruised guardians who had very little to do with each other walked out of the fairly destroyed kitchen an hour after the fracas had begun. Of course neither would speak about it and nobody knew who had won that fight. What was even more surprising was that Gokudera's loud expressions of Haru had been reduced to grumbled mutterings.

~You be my glass of wine...~

Her hands made their way around his waist as he looked up at her, his eyes never leaving hers, drowning in their deep cinnamon hue with every passing second and then she smiled and bent down to kiss his lips, or so he thought. Her small hands moved from his sides to his stomach, trailing forward and up his chest leaving his skin tingling as if scorched in their delicate wake... then she placed butterfly kisses teasingly on either side of his mouth. With a growl, he held her face in place and claimed her lips, not quite enjoying the teasing games she sometimes played with him.

She was soft and pliant, but by no means and inactive participant. Her timid caresses and gentle kisses were not the practiced ones he had experienced in the time before her; a time he found he couldn't remember or care to remember in that case. The sweet melody of her gasps and moans was music to his ears. The way she would smile at him, flushed and sated and tell him she loved him warmed his somewhere deep within. Love was a drug and he had found the perfect supply.

~I'll be your shot of whisky...~

Sometimes he would come home bruised and bloody a serious expression clouding his features. She would want to fuss over him but he would have none of that. He would simply hold her in his arms and she would smell the gunpowder and faintly the blood. She would see the spatters and the seared edges of his shirts... then she would know how close he had come and what he really needed.

He would crush her to him, his mouth plundering hers and she would allow him this. She would let him hold her and find comfort in her. Their heated passionate kisses would end in eventual burning torturous bliss, then he would hold her for the longest time saying nothing, simply cherishing the moments he had with her, and reflecting on how close he had come to never spending this time with her again...

~You be my sunny day...~

Tiny kisses would wake him in the morning and a soft giggle would follow. Whether the heavens unleashed their fury or let the sunshine welcome a new day, she was always beside him when he woke up. She had said once that he looked beautiful in his sleep, like some Greek god sleeping after a brutal war, one who dared not be woken save by his lady love...

She would give him a mischievous grin then leave the bed to go and make their breakfast. He would watch her with wonder and ask himself how it had happened; how she had chosen him of all people. No matter what state he was in when he slept, he could be sure that he would have the sun shining for him in the morning when he woke up.

~I'll be your shade tree...~

She was crying. She wouldn't tell him why or what had happened, but she was sad. The usual sparkle in her eyes was lost and what replaced it was a falsified version of the mirth he knew. She couldn't lie to him, much as she tried.

That was when he would take away whatever she held in her hands, the object being what she tried to place between herself and the comfort she knew she would find in his embrace. Laying it aside, he would simply surround her with him until she broke and let herself grieve. In these moments, he was her strength. He was the hope she had seemed to lose somewhere along the way, the warmth she needed when the cruel world turned cold and unforgiving. She wasn't sure when he had started being that for her, but he was and she could ask for nobody better.

~You be my honeysuckle, I'll be your honey bee.~

Nobody could really say when it had begun, this dance of theirs. Nobody could pinpoint the precise moment it had happened and the reasons for their falling desperately in love with each other was vague. They couldn't explain it if they tried. Who could explain chance and meaning, rhyme and reason?

Either one without the other was unfathomable. They couldn't imagine a world apart no matter how they tried. She needed him and he finally realised he needed her too. Their eventual destinations, all their lives, had been aligned. They belonged to each other. They were meant for each other. There was no simpler explanation than that, and nobody who valued their life would dare claim anything different.

Like the clouds in the sky, like the birds and the air, like fish and the seas, like the sun and the day or the moon and the night, they were simply meant to be.