Title: Assembled... Sort Of
Author: PwnedByPineapple
Summary: Tamaki has a brilliant idea for cosplay. Renge plots on the fly. Haruhi and Nekozawa are Not Amused. Crack-ish.
Notes: Birthday present for the fabulous Artemis Day. Not technically a crossover in the strictest sense, but whatevs.

Haruhi Fujioka was understandably a little pissed, and it may have had something to do with the fact that she could hardly see out of the helmet engulfing her head. Or maybe it was the armor.

The twins, for once, shared her displeasure. "You can't even see her," Hikaru complained, drifting into Haruhi's view for a moment. He wore a practical black leather suit, with a quiver of blunt arrows strapped to his back, and slung over his shoulder was a genuinely authentic-looking bow. Haruhi dearly wished she could be wearing that getup instead; it was the most sane out of all their costumes.

And then Kaoru entered her line of sight, voicing similar disapproval, and Haruhi gazed at his costume in mounting outrage. "Hey!" she protested, reaching up to lift the visor as high as it would go - better to analyze the difference. "How come your costume looks like that?"

"Hmm?" Kaoru looked down at his outfit; similar to Hikaru's, though perhaps slightly more feminine, which was a given considering the character he was representing. "Oh - you don't expect me to wear the original, do you? I'm a guy."

"You were going to put me in it!" Somewhere in the back of her mind, Haruhi knew the futility of argument, but the enclosure of the armored costume was clouding her senses. This was so aggravating. "Why couldn't I wear that outfit instead?"

The twins shrugged in unison. "Ask the boss."

"I'd much rather you wore this," Kaoru continued.

"And we could stick the king in the Iron Man suit," Hikaru finished. "Their egos definitely match."

That, Haruhi could agree with wholeheartedly. She herself was nothing like Iron Man, that was for sure, and as for Tamaki...

"It's no use, milord," Hikaru said glumly, looking as if all holidays had been cancelled for the rest of the year. "Even a blind man could tell she was a girl."

Tamaki's mouth was agape; he seemed to close it only with great difficulty, as Haruhi shot him a glare. "Y-you're right," he agreed, with the words forcing themselves out, painfully labored. "My little girl... cannot wear such clothing!" He looked away with a sigh, raising three fingers to his temple. "We'll have to make some adjustments, but never fret."

Haruhi heard this with the greatest relief. While Black Widow's suit managed to look good on the character in question, all Haruhi could feel was too exposed. Why did it have to be so tight...?

... of course, she'd assumed that by adjustments, Tamaki had meant it for the actual suit itself, like Kaoru's had obviously been - and not a complete rearrangement of their respective roles! Tamaki had already gone through several reshufflings of their potential assignments, and he could never seem to get everything to fit just right. But this... this was pushing it.

"Senpai!" she said furiously, turning this way and that to try and seek out the king in question. Finding this to be a difficult maneuver - the costume itself was as light as possible, but it was clunky and tricky to turn in place with - Haruhi just yanked off the helmet and tucked it under her arm, her none-too-happy gaze finding Tamaki in a matter of seconds.

There he was across the music room, decked out as a magnificent Norse god, complete with a winged helmet and a realistic-looking foam hammer. Well, no matter what problems any of them may have had with the current arrangements, no one could deny that Tamaki made the perfect Thor - theatrical, poetic, and noble, though Haruhi had some doubts about the latter, in Tamaki's case. 'Idiotic', was more like.

He stood next to Kyouya, who looked appropriately black-clad and mysterious as Thor's brother, Loki. Haruhi had found it odd that they were including a villain in their cosplay, but apparently Loki had a sizable number of fangirls, and Kyouya was the glaringly obvious choice, much more appropriate for a trickster god than any other character.

Both of them looked up as Haruhi made an awkward march in their direction, warily watched over by the Hitachiin twins lest she trip and fall. "Senpai," she repeated, taking a calming breath as she came to a halt and steadied herself. "I don't see why I'm in this suit. You had Kaoru's suit modified, after all, and I was originally going to wear it."

Tamaki's face went through a rapid myriad of emotions before settling on nobly dignified; apparently, he was already getting in-character. "This way, no one can tell your gender!" he explained, as if it actually counted as a valid explanation. "Your virtue and reputation are perfectly safe now!"

In other words, he'd freaked out and was overcompensating. Typical.

"Senpai," Haruhi said for a third time, thinking to argue... but abruptly she stopped and sighed. Perhaps it was just that the removal of the helmet had cleared her thoughts, or maybe it was the menacing idea of Kyouya doubling for Loki, standing beside Tamaki and watching Haruhi silently... but she knew it was no use.

The twins had no such qualms. "I still say Thor and Loki should be done by actual brothers," Hikaru sniffed. "Who actually know how to do the whole angst thing, y'know?"

"But Hawkeye and Black Widow have plenty of angst!" Tamaki said earnestly; obviously he'd given this some thought. "Their mysterious past, their mysterious relationship... everything about them is complicated and mysterious! And you two can work with that, I know you can!"

An identical frown of contemplation dawned on the twins' faces; perhaps they hadn't considered it like that, since this latest switch. "I guess he's right," Kaoru said, turning to Hikaru; he seemed to be taking the whole 'portraying a girl' concept in stride, at least. "Hikaru?"

The twin in question released a sigh. "Oh, fine," he said at last. "We can work with it. Though I still don't see why you had to put Haruhi in the Iron Man suit."

"I told you, I'm protecting her!"

"Yeah, right, you greedy old perv. You just don't want anyone else to see!"

Tamaki drew in a terribly wounded gasp, clutching at his heart with mournful eyes. He turned to Kyouya pleadingly. "Brother, surely you aren't going to let such untrue accusations fly at me?"

Adjusting his glasses, jotting down something on his clipboard, Kyouya sighed with the practiced and weary professionalism he'd probably been cultivating since his first meeting with Tamaki. "The club hasn't opened yet, Tamaki. No need to be in-character just yet."

Leaving the four of them to it, Haruhi stepped away, feeling a restlessness in her legs that had everything to do with being trapped in an uncomfortable and imitation superhero suit of armor. But distraction arrived soon enough, in the form of a small but powerful force that suddenly grabbed her hand in excitement, nearly causing her to topple over. "Haru-chan, you look so cool~!"

No one in their right mind would have agreed that Hunny fit Captain America, except for overall coloring and definite physical prowess and a certain kind of demeanor that made even the most objective person (i.e. Haruhi) sometimes want to hug him. And with that, somehow, it fit regardless; indeed, the only person Haruhi could have otherwise imagined for the job was Tamaki, but the Host Club King was too busy being the ideal Thor. (It seemed he hadn't entirely given up on his playacting yet, as evidenced by Kyouya's carefully masked but rather aggrieved expression.)

"Thanks, Hunny-senpai," Haruhi replied, unable to resist a bit of a smile at Hunny in the Captain America getup; he even had a tiny shield, which he'd taken to flinging about the room with great enthusiasm. Good thing it was rubber. "You do, too." She glanced up at Mori, who was approaching silently. He, at least, had been an easy choice. Only Mori could pull off the Hulk believably; they hadn't gotten him a full-out costume, of course, as something like that in his size was a practical impossibility. But his forearms and the edges of his neck had been spray-painted green, and his simple outfit was made to look as scientist-like and Banner-ish as possible. It made a nice effect. "And you, Mori-senpai."

Mori inclined his head in thanks, as Hunny inspected Haruhi's costume with interest, giggling. Over yonder, Tamaki had gotten into another argument with the twins over something or the other (Haruhi didn't bother to listen), as usual, and when Kyouya finally declared that it was time to open the club, Haruhi heaved a sigh of relief. Finally - only a few more hours, and she could get this stupid thing off. Honestly, the ideas Tamaki got in his head sometimes...

And naturally, the girls loved it.

Haruhi soon discovered that it was almost impossible to sit properly in the Iron Man suit. This would have been more than a little irritating, but with the way Tamaki insisted that they all be in-character, there was hardly time to attempt sitting down, anyway. Not that Haruhi went along with it; upon her refusal to act the part, there were a great many pleadings and theatrical performances from Tamaki, and their clients seemed to love every bit of it. Haruhi didn't think they minded her being out-of-character at all.

There was a great deal of squealing coming from Mori and Hunny's section of the room; Hunny, it seemed, was a huge hit with the ladies, bedecked as he was in his Captain America costume. It was a little bit weird - okay, bizarre, Haruhi had to admit - to see "Captain America" riding on "the Hulk's" shoulders with such cheery abandon, but the girls ate it right up and with great enthusiasm, too.

Meanwhile, Hikaru and Kaoru played their assassin roles to perfection, and it became clear that they were, despite previous misgivings, quite suited for it. They noticed it, too, and in warming up to the concept, their performance took on an air that was almost as convincing as Tamaki's. Their clients fawned particularly over Kaoru and gasped dramatically at the display of the "mysterious" relationship between the two assassins. Haruhi merely shook her head as she watched; rich people, honestly.

Kyouya, too, had attracted a crowd, and Tamaki was constantly dragging him into scenes made up on the spot, to which Kyouya responded admirably and elegantly. There was more than one girl who practically swooned, and Haruhi was kept busy trying to make sure that none of them actually fell... which, of course, generated more swooning. It was all very tiring work.

When the air started tremble, it only went downhill from there.

There was a familiar roaring of gears that came from God only knew where, but Tamaki pretended as if he didn't recognize it at all. His cry of "Assemble!" went mostly ignored in a rather anticlimactic moment, and the ground quaked as Renge appeared on her usual mode of transportation. The shaking nearly threw Haruhi off her feet; she stumbled into Kyouya, who steadied her with one cool hand. Haruhi muttered an apology, sighing; she was really beginning to hate this costume. Then she noticed Renge's.

The nature of Renge's arrival went, for the most part, unnoticed, because it was her outfit that drew everyone's eyes.

To be precise, she was wearing a long black coat and an eyepatch, and everything about it was just wrong. "What is this?" Tamaki gasped, as Renge joined their little party, looking smug. "Why on earth are you dressed like that?"

"Because I'm the manager!" Renge declared. "You honestly didn't expect me to miss out on this, did you? This movie's huge stuff right now!" She trilled a little as she said this, which was uncanny coming from someone who was supposed to be playing Nick Fury. Then again, Haruhi couldn't exactly complain, as she herself acted nothing like Stark.

"But you don't fit him at all!" Tamaki said, aghast. He wasn't the only one who was mystified. "He's black! And imposing!"

Renge huffed imperiously, doing her best to emulate 'imposing' - she could pull it off when she wanted to, Haruhi had to admit. "And Black Widow is a girl!" she pointed out haughtily, gesturing to Kaoru, who merely shrugged. "You've got to have some kind of balance! You can't replace only main female character with a guy and expect things to be alright!" She folded her arms with a satisfied nod. "So I fixed it for you."

Shaking her head, Haruhi turned away from Renge and Tamaki's continued argument and found Kyouya inspecting his own costume with a slight frown on his face, completely disinterested in what was going on. "Everything okay, senpai?" Haruhi asked hesitantly, and Kyouya lifted up one of the folds of the black robe to display the lengthy vertical tear.

"You ripped it," he said simply.

After a moment, Haruhi's eyes widened; she remembered doing no such thing, but when she'd fallen back into him... the stupid metal suit must've... aw, crap. "Sorry," she said at once and wondered just how much Kyouya was going to make her compensate for it; how much he'd paid for it in the first place. She had to fight back another sigh. "It was an accident. I-I could sew it up, I suppose..."

"Actually, it belongs to Nekozawa-senpai," Kyouya said, bringing the tear up for closer disapproving inspection. "It was cheaper to rent it from him, though it took a bit of convincing. He's... touchy about his clothes, you could say."

Haruhi could well imagine; the owner of the Black Magic Club was universally thought of as eccentric for a reason. This time, she really did sigh. "If we fixed it really fast...?" she suggested lamely, her voice weakening.

"He'll notice," Kyouya said noncommittally, and the look behind his flashing glasses was entirely unreadable. Damn him. This was so going to cost her extra now, wasn't it?

Meanwhile, there had been no clear victory in the argument that had ensued over Renge's arrival, and things seemed to be mostly back to normal... whatever that meant. Renge almost immediately floated over to Haruhi and Kyouya, interrupting their exchange as she exclaimed over their costumes with as much enthusiasm as their clients. Haruhi thought, for the briefest moment, that Renge's eyes gleamed over the rip in Kyouya's costume, but it must have been imagined, for a second later the girl was gone just as quickly, to some other part of the room.

Kyouya made no further comment on the damage, and Haruhi took the opportunity to escape. She'd have to deal with it after club hours, but right now, even hosting was a relief. For a few minutes, she pushed it from her mind and chatted with a group of girls, until...

A dark presence was gathering on one side of the room, and soon it had expanded to the point where everyone noticed. By the time the room had fallen silent, the Host Club members had instinctively drawn together, and Tamaki was unsuccessful at concealing the fact that he was basically hiding behind Kyouya - an act that looked ridiculous with the nature of his costume. "This is too many interruptions for one day!" Tamaki declared, though his voice was more of a squeak, and then Nekozawa slowly emerged from the door, which had taken on a distinctively darker appearance.

"My robe," Nekozawa said, almost moaning, as he drifted in their direction. He was most definitely focused on Kyouya, however, and his tone became menacing. "You've ruined it!"

Haruhi bit back a gulp. Okay, so maybe she'd have to face the music sooner rather than later; damn this costume! But Kyouya merely adjusted his glasses and regarded Nekozawa coolly. "It's hardly a scratch," he said reasonably. "It can easily be fixed."

"No, no, no," Nekozawa said, directly before them now. He was practically in their faces, oozing an ominous aura, and there were apprehensive murmurs from the girls in the room; absently, Haruhi noticed Renge among them, whispering furiously to a few. "It has been damaged. Defiled! You must pay!"

This was taking it to a ridiculous level - it wasn't that big of a tear, honestly - but then again, it was Nekozawa. Haruhi was about to attempt stepping forward, as it had been her costume that had done the damage, but then Hikaru spoke up, sounding a little ticked off. "Oh, come on, it's just a bit of cloth," he said scornfully. "You're interrupting our business for that?"

"You can come back later, and we'll discuss it then," Kaoru interjected reasonably. "You're scaring the girls."

Their clients did indeed look nervous, though Haruhi noticed, with a bit more attention paid to them, that there was something almost feverish in their gazes. A look that only appeared when they were being drawn into something that awakened their fangirl instincts. Wait, what?

"We will discuss it now!" Nekozawa said. "This cannot go unanswered!"

"I think you need to leave," Hunny said quietly; he was still on Mori's shoulders, but his face was no longer so cheerful. Mori took a step forward, as if to emphasize the moment. "You're disrupting our club."

"Y-yes!" Tamaki said, finally speaking up. He emerged a half-step from behind Kyouya, clearing his throat. "We'll be sure to compensate you, Nekozawa-senpai, but we ask that you not cause a scene in the middle of club hours. Think of the ladies."

But Nekozawa seemed unreasonably distressed - Haruhi recalled Kyouya's comment about his "touchiness" when it came to his clothes - and an even darker aura was gathering around him. The room had become quite saturated with it, but to Haruhi's surprise, the girls were not recoiling. In fact, they were leaning forward, almost in anticipation.

Nekozawa drew himself up as he took another step forward, directly in Kyouya's face. "I will see the score evened!" Nekozawa declared, his voice low and menacing.

"I'm sure you will," Kyouya said, with an admirable level of professional disinterest in his voice. He didn't flinch. "And I might take you seriously if you didn't come in here causing such a scene to begin with. So I'll ask you again, for your benefit: please leave and come back at a better time. It will be repaired, but we will not tolerate such a disruption while we are entertaining guests." He reached out a hand to gently but firmly push Nekozawa away from him, and something in the utter coldness of his voice meant that Nekozawa was silenced.

The club room, to put it simply, exploded with excitement.

"... so amazing!"

"... like he confronted his inner demons...!"

"Oh, how wonderf-!"

Haruhi caught only snatches of what the girls were cheering, but it was enough; somehow, bizarrely, they'd interpreted this entire thing as Loki facing his inner demons and winning. How the hell they'd gotten that impression, Haruhi wasn't quite sure, until she noticed Renge among the cheering clients, looking enormously self-satisfied and also a little dreamy.

Haruhi recalled Renge's hasty whispering, the look on her face when she'd invaded their conversation and seen the rip, and it took some effort not to facepalm. Maybe the "manager" was more like Nick Fury than they'd given her credit for. You know, in some ways.

As Hikaru and Kaoru escorted a by-now very bemused Nekozawa out the door and Hunny nearly toppled from Mori's shoulders in his own enthusiastic response to the girls' excitement, Tamaki, never one to let the spotlight stray far from him, ran to hug Kyouya, appearing quite overwhelmed. Tearfully, he congratulated his "brother" on his victory, not breaking character even once, and their clients went nearly mad at this display of brotherly love.

I really need a nap, Haruhi thought tiredly, surrounded as she was by the merry chaos, and a moment later, she was pulled away by several exuberant girls, killing that notion where it stood.

When at last their club shut down for the day, Haruhi was quite exhausted. Wearing the Iron Man suit was taxing work, and absently, she wondered how the character managed it. As the last of their clients left, she discarded the notion of tossing the helmet aside and instead carefully set it down on a chair, mindful of damaging anything else.

"I should charge you for the damage to Nekozawa's robe," came Kyouya's voice from behind her, and Haruhi jumped as she spun around. Did he make no sound at all? "However... the entire debacle proved to be a stunning success. The girls were so moved that they donated to Renge's fund for fixing the outfit... far more than is necessary to mend it, too." There was a small, mysterious smile on Kyouya's face; clearly, in addition to profit, he'd gotten some enjoyment out of all of the madness, Haruhi thought in annoyance. But if it meant not having to pay...

"I should thank Renge, then," Haruhi said, trying to keep the relief out of her voice.

"See that you do," Kyouya said with a nod and drifted off just as silently as he'd come, leaving Haruhi shaking her head.

It was only with Hunny and Mori's help that she managed to get out of the costume; it was even trickier to get off, and there was a fleeting moment where she experienced the dread of possibly getting stuck. However, between the three of them, it was finally removed, and Haruhi felt tired elation at being free. She gladly let Hunny take the pieces of the suit, and as he reassembled them, gleefully calling for Mori to help, Haruhi stretched her stiff muscles.

"Oh, Haruhi..." the twins said slyly, and Haruhi jumped for the second time that day. Hikaru and Kaoru slithered up from behind her, still in costume; however, Hikaru carried another outfit in his hands. "Look what we brought for you."

Hikaru unfurled it and revealed it to be the original Black Widow costume that Haruhi had worn only briefly. She eyed it with distaste, then directed her frown at the twins. "I thought you were wearing the modified version of that!" she told Kaoru, jabbing a finger at the original, and Kaoru grinned.

"All the costumes have spares, just in case," he informed her. "Now that everyone's gone, we thought you could wear this one."

"Well, you thought wrong," Haruhi stated flatly, turning to leave, and bumped into Tamaki's breastplate.

Who looked furtively pleased. "There is no one here but us, Haruhi," Tamaki said cajolingly. "Why not try it on? You'll look so cute!" He had on a wide smile, which crumbled under Haruhi's glare.

"You were singing a different tune earlier," Haruhi grumbled and pushed him aside, heading straight for the door.