This was inspired by an Olive Garden commercial, believe it or not.

Disclaimer: I don't own YuYuHakusho. Life's tough like that. I also don't own Clean and Clear, though I do have a bottle of it for myself at home.

Summary: She couldn't wait, it was their monthly Friday night date.

Our Monthly Friday Night Date

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Keiko scrubbed some more cleanser on her face, careful to avoid her eyes, lest they become infected by Clean and Clear Daily Action Cream. She brushed her teeth and poured some mouth wash into the tube and guzzled it for 30 seconds, as the instructions stated, before spitting it back into the sink. After, Keiko turned on the hot and cold water to get it warm enough so it wouldn't burn her hands and splashed the water on her face to removed all of the Clean and Clear cream. It left her face feeling tingly fresh and clean.

Keiko lightly patted her face dry and walked out of the bathroom and entered her bedroom, humming a tune she had heard on the radio earlier this morning before getting ready to go to school. Now, it was four o'clock in the afternoon and the fast approaching evening was commencing.

Needless to say, Keiko was ecstatic.

For a couple months now, it had become a tradition to go out Friday evening and spend the night together, you know, for quality time. Or at least, that's what he claimed it to be. Maybe he just liked the excuse to go to the arcade or the mall or wherever they decided to go after dinner without getting scolded for neglecting schoolwork. Oh well. What could you do?

Keiko opened her closet, which had grown quite a bit over the past few years, and picked out a couple of casual-dining dresses. It was almost below-freezing and a light snow was predicted to fall later tonight. Keiko didn't want to be caught unprepared. She decided on the velvet black dress with sleeves that went a little past her elbow. It had a square neck line and was quite plain, but fit her well. The dress had amber and burgundy flowers that trailed up her right side until the waist. It was quite a simple, yet elegant design.

Inspecting herself in the full length mirror attached to her wall, Keiko shuffled through the bottom of her closet, finding black high-heeled sandals with two crisscrossing straps on the front. In the area where the straps met, there was a similar brown flower.

Then, Keiko took out her hairbrush and quickly worked out all the knots her long hair. By now it reached a little lower then her mid-back. Keiko was quite proud of this. She neatly gathered it up and styled it into a bun. Scrutinizing her appearance, Keiko decided she was ready. She started to walk out the room, but stopped at the doorway. How could she forget? Yusuke had given her a necklace with a brown flower on it to match this dress, as he had figured it was her favorite (she wore it on so many special occasions and assumed correctly). With skill, Keiko snatched the silver necklace out of her jewelry box on the dresser and locked the chain around her neck. She positioned the burgundy flower in the middle of her neck and seemed satisfied with the results.

Upon doing so, Keiko glanced at her digital clock beside her bed. It read 5:04. An hour had passed already. Not wanting to be late, Keiko grabbed her purse and coat and walked out the door.

The restaurant they had picked tonight was not too far from where Keiko lived. She decided it would be nice to walk there instead of wasting gas to drive for several minutes. It was nice to live here, where everything was only a few blocks away.

Upon entering the brightly advertised building, Keiko was greeted by a friendly hostess. There weren't any lines, as this was a reservation kind of place. Tonight they had decided to go somewhere different, a little more fancy then usual. Keiko was glad for the change in atmosphere. There were lamps with candles inside of them as the centerpieces of the tables and even uniquely folded napkins at each seat. Even more so, there were comfy booths and regular tables that weren't all crammed together like they were in the pizza shop they had tried last week. What a disaster that had been.

Keiko smiled to the welcoming hostess.

"I suppose he would put it under Urameshi," Keiko informed.

The hostess nodded and checked her list. "Right this way, ma'am."

Keiko smiled again and followed the girl down a series of aisles to the back of the restaurant. "You see, this is our monthly Friday night date. He doesn't really like change all that well, but he agreed to try this place tonight, as long as we go to the arcade after," Keiko informed the girl.

The girl just nodded politely, not really taking in what Keiko had to say. "Have a nice evening and I hope you enjoy your meal," she said as they arrived at a booth next to a window with the view of the brightly lit street.

"Mom!" A black-haired boy yelled as he ran up to Keiko and hugged her.

"Hello, Takashi. Have you been behaving yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, he has. Except he wouldn't let me have the window seat. Insisted he get it so he can save it for mom," a man grumbled as he walked up to Keiko.

"Nice to see you, too, Yusuke" Keiko greeted merrily. She silently laughed at her husband's antics and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before taking her seat next to her son by the window.

"Now, Keiko. Don't forget that you promised Takashi to go to the arcade after this," Yusuke informed, looking quite uncomfortable in his casual suit. Takashi nodded vigorously at this reminder and Keiko just rolled her eyes.

"This would have nothing to do with the new game they just installed, right?"

Yusuke looked around the room for a second and shrugged no, though it was a very unconvincing gesture.

Keiko smiled happily. She loved her monthly Friday night dates with her husband and son.

So, if anyone was wondering, Keiko took up a job at a school as a kindergarten teacher, which is why she got ready for school. Yusuke and Keiko have been married for six years and Takashi is five years old. They moved to Tokyo because Yusuke got a job there. Hope that explains everything. Any questions, ask.