Disclaimers apply.

Note/s: Just felt like doing something lighthearted, so there you go. Hope you enjoy.


It had been two months. Two excruciating months. And Alto was glad it was over. Two months of deep space research mission did a number of things on a person. Honestly, looking back, Alto wondered how he had survived it all. Not that they had encountered any hostile creatures that likened to the previous ones (those annoying space lobsters a.k.a. the Vajra). It rested more on the fact that, well, simply put, nothing happened. It was hour after hour of endless space and stars. Endless…endless…hours…of…it…
Stars were pretty, mind you. But after seeing billions of them every hour of every day, Alto started to lose his appreciation. There was no thrill of zooming off in speed (Ozma was strict on it) and he had been holding back his very strong urge to fire a missile at something (preferably at that Brera I-go-first-in-front-of-you Sterne).

The bridge didn't fall under his idea of fun either. Bobby always tried to make a pass at him every chance he could get ("I want to make Ozma jealous!" he said) and the bridge bunnies kept pointing and laughing at him in a huddled group ("He totally gets hair spa treatments."). Luca also did a lousy job in keeping him company. The shouta kept going nonstop over Nanase. Do you think Nanase likes me? Will Nanase ever notice me? Do you think we'd look good together? Nanase is so kind and pretty. Nanase has such a big heart. Nanase, Nanase, Nanase. It drove him bananase!

Boredom and nuisance aside, there was another drawback to add to the list. The biggest one of all.

Hormones.

Thank God all that was over.

This meant no more nights of waiting for Luca to fall asleep before fapping to his heart's content or taking long in the showers to do a thorough wash. Hey, Alto was only human, he had his needs. He wasn't like a few: Luca was naïve, Ozma was lucky to have Cathy onboard without having to worry about this kind of problem and Brera was an asexual cyborg freak (whose skills came simply from him being part-kitchen appliance, part-Swiss knife).

Sheryl also didn't help in the equation. Even if she wasn't there, she had done a pretty good job of having him screw himself. Pun intended. She had secretly slipped in a pair of her lacy white panties together with his packed clothes and it had been hell ever since he found them.

But thankfully, all that was going to change…


"Alto, you're back!" Sheryl gasped upon opening the door, "what a surprise, I wasn't expecting you."
That was a lie and the skimpy dress (if you could call it that) proved it. The freshly put-on light make-up at nearly one in the morning was also a dead giveaway.

"Sheryl." Alto spoke with authority—and urgency. "Get in bed. Now."

Instead of obeying, she chose to be hardheaded.

Typical.

"What if I don't want to?" She tilted her stubborn chin at him. "Since when do I have to listen to you?"

He exhaled sharply, trying to keep his patience in check.

"Sheryl," he began, "I'm tired and very frustrated. I'd appreciate if you just do as I say. Besides, we both know how it's going to end anyway."

"Alto, I am appalled!" But not sounding really appalled. "I am not that kind of woman! Who do you think I am?" She flipped her hair, as if it made a valid point to her claim.

"You're Sheryl. Sheryl Nome—and you are going into bed right now."

"That's right, I'm Sheryl Nome," the singer turned her nose up haughtily, all while eyeing him in a way that said 'you-are-so-not-worthy' before delivering her punch-line, "and I don't want to get in bed with you. So there!" She stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at him.

"You know what, fine!"

With that, he stomped his way into the living room. He didn't bother to spare a glance behind him to see that Sheryl was obviously stunned at his reaction.

"Alto, wait!" The singer called out, a change of tune in her voice, one of shock and mild distress.

She shut the door and fled after him, trying to reason out to him.

"I was just kidding, you know that."

Alto didn't seem to listen nor care as he deposited his duffel bag onto the table.

"I was playing around!"

No reply as he undid the zipper and rummaged through his belongings..

"Alto! Come on!"

Alto then sat down and busied himself to removing his boots, still continuing to ignore her pleas. He shrugged off his jacket, stacked the cushions of the couch as his pillow and completed his makeshift bed with the spare blanket from his bag. Despite his efforts, it didn't look comfortable and inviting. But he wasn't going to let a lumpy sofa deter him from teaching Sheryl a lesson.

He was just about to settle in when Sheryl grabbed his arm, pulling him like he were a madman about to step off from a fifty-story building.

"You can't be serious, you don't want to sleep in that!"

He raised a brow.

"Why should you care? If I remember correctly you said you didn't want to get in the same bed with me. We certainly can't have that, can we?" He released his arm from her and turned back to his 'bed'.

"And I said I was kidding! Damn it, Alto! Stop being such a drama-queen. You know I was just teasing!"

"I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood for what?! My teasing or getting in bed with me?"

He chose not to answer as he collapsed into his little nest, spreading the blanket over him. It really looked as if he was truly going to spend the night there.

Sheryl was definitely not pleased.

"Alto, you get out of there right now!"

He replied with a yawn.

And that was all it took to make her snap.

"Oh! So this is how it is? Saotome Alto decides to play a stubborn mule, does he? Well, see if I care! Good night, I hope you get a sore back tomorrow! Oh wait—that's right, you will!" With an angry huff, she marched on to the bedroom and nearly slammed the door off its hinges with a vibrating bang.

Hmph. Alto thought, now I'm the bad guy while she gets out scotch-free in this one. That sums up Sheryl alright.


Despite the discomfort offered by the lowly couch, Alto was actually sleeping just fine. It wasn't as comfortable as a normal bed but it was passable. After all, he had done worse.
And the uncomfortable arrangement actually helped with his hormones! That was the most surprising of all. When your neck and back was aching, it was hard to focus on the skimpily clad woman in the next room.

He was snoring peacefully when a noise interrupted his sleep. Blinking awake in annoyance, he pushed himself up, ignoring the protest of his aching muscles.

"Sheryl," he called out, "what was that?"

It took a while for him to get her reply.

"Nothing, Alto~," he heard her speak with suspicious calm, "I just dropped—err, accidentally bumped over the nightstand and down went the alarm. Did I wake you?"

Alto had the strongest urge to bark, No! I'm still clearly asleep!, but decided against it. There was no need to add fuel to the fire with biting sarcasm. "Well if that's all…good night, Sheryl." He was undeniably still huffy about what happened and was not going to back down anytime soon. He started to re-fluff the cushions.

"Oh no!" came a clearly-fake sound of distress from Sheryl's area. "The radio alarm is broken! However will I use the alarm? I have an important appointment"—

"Use your cellphone!"

"I can't find my cellphone! Alto, can you just come here and see if you can fix it?"

Do I have a choice? Sighing, the sleepy pilot got up to see what nonsense his girlfriend was up to. The door was unlocked and he pushed his way in. Standing in the middle of the room was Sheryl, who was wrapped with one of the blankets. At this, Alto shot a brow up.

"It was so hot that I decided to just sleep in the buff." Sheryl explained, with an obvious ulterior motive in her innocent tone.

"That flimsy excuse of a dress was too hot for you?"

For a moment, it seemed as if Alto had won, Sheryl didn't know what to say until a thought crossed her mind. "Well the material was too clingy…and I was so hot, and sweaty…very sweaty. So I just took it off."

She had decided to amp the seduction and its effects weren't lost on Alto, as he suddenly felt the temperature rising.

"OOPS!," Sheryl's exclamation came out before the cause for it even happened. The blanket was then on the floor in a soundless heap. Sheryl "tried" to cover her naked self with her hands, instead of just reaching for the blanket again. "Alto, don't look!" She took a sidestep and "slipped"…and conveniently fell down (or as Alto observed, walked fast) in bed.

"Oh no!" She moaned, but obviously not in pain, "I think I sprained an ankle—do you think you could check"—

She never finished her request because Alto started to do something no sane man would do when a woman was putting up a stunt to get him in bed. He laughed. Saotome Alto laughed. In fact , he doubled over.

Naturally, this didn't settle well with Sheryl.

"GET OUT YOU JERK!"


Alto couldn't help himself and he never meant to. But with Sheryl's bad acting coupled with her cute faked expressions…it was just too much. He had tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible not to have found that funny. She could have just said what she wanted straight out and he would have delivered but instead, she opted for something else…typical Sheryl.

But now, once the humor had subsided, Alto knew there was going to be hell to pay. Sheryl was hurt. But not emotionally, Alto knew her too well. It was her pride that was stinging. And she did not hold back in letting him know that with her loud theatrical sobs, which, as bad as they were, made him cringe in guilt.

She really did go all out…and I guess, I might have overreacted, just a bit. Just a bit. I'll just have to make it up to her…


Sheryl was scrubbing away angrily, as if the body scrub could get rid of her anger and humiliation. She had been so angry, she swore she could almost see red. "That stupid Alto!" Sheryl seethed, as she reached for her shampoo bottle. As she uncapped it, the shower door slid open, causing the singer to let out a yelp of surprise…which turned into a scream of fury.

"You bastard! Get out of here! As of last night you have no right to even look at me!" With that, she threw her bottle at him, which hit him square in the chest…his bare chest…

"Why are you naked?!"

Alto was rubbing the spot the shampoo bottle had made an impact, "Look, I'm sorry. Can I just share a shower with you?"

"Oh! Of all the nerve! First, you laugh at me and now you're making a request like that after such a half-hearted apology?! Who do you think you are? You just grow more and more arrogant every minute!"

"Sheryl, listen. I'm sorry. I was an idiot."

"Yes, you are!"

"And I missed you."

"W-well, I m-missed you too, I suppose. Just a little bit though. But that doesn't excuse you for last night!"

Alto sighed, "I know…but look, I'll make it up to you."

"How?" She lifted her chin in typical Sheryl manner.

"I'll think of something. In any case, I'm going to be late if you don't let me take a shower." Sheryl eyed him thoughtfully, he really did look like he was in a hurry. And truth be told, she wasn't as angry as before. Finally, she conceded with his request.

"Fine, get in."

As the water streamed down on them, Sheryl kept him at a distance, his back practically against the tiled wall. Just because she wasn't as angry, didn't mean she forgave him yet. Oh, he had to do something to make her forgive him! Like a new jewelry set or a puppy. Her forgiveness wasn't cheap after all.

"Ah, Sheryl." The stupid idiot sounded. "I dropped the soap, could you pick it up for me."

"Hmph! Pick it up yourself! Don't boss me around, you should be grateful I'm even letting you share a shower with me."

"C'mon, it's just right in front of you!"

"I don't have to do anything for you!"

"You know, I wanted to do this subtly…but you're just too goddamn impossible!"

"Impossible?! You"—

She was about to turn around and tell him to go straight to hell, when next thing she knew, his body pressed up against hers, his arms encircling around her waist.

"Alto…ah…" She arched back to him, her head against his shoulder. His hand had moved up, just ever so slightly.

"Sheryl," Alto whispered into her ear, "would you like me to wash your back?"

"Let me pick up the soap first."


End.