Feuer zu Asche, Wasser zu Eis

-One-

Habit

Everyone has their quirks. For Marth and Roy, it's the fact that they argue over the most trivial of things to the point where, after Marth returns from work every day, they argue about something stupid. They had a weird way of saying 'I love you'.

-x-

"Roy?"

There was a thud and half of the things on the faux-mahogany desk top moved just a tiny bit. There was a hiss and then an, "Ow!" from the very same person Marth was trying to address. Marth winced and walked over to his roommate to assess the damage.

"Are you all right?"

Roy emerged from underneath the desk, rubbing his aching head.

"Do you always have to scare the crap out of people when you enter a room, or is it just me?"

Marth couldn't tell whether Roy was angry with him coming into their room unannounced or if he was just being, well, himself.

"I don't think I have to knock before entering a room that we share together," Marth said, and then gestured to the desk. "What were you doing under there, anyway? Preparing an ambush?"

Roy blinked and then stood, his head no longer throbbing. "Looking for where I dropped my pen." He grinned sheepishly, and Marth just rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You're always dropping your pens. It must be some sort of homework ritual for you."

Roy scoffed. "Just like you always have to be facing a door when you close it?" He watched as his companion sat down on the beat up loveseat not far from a cheap IKEA brand bookcase. It was where Marth usually sat to relax after a hard day at work. He wasn't a big fan of retail, but the pay was good and the hours were long and the customers were, nine times out of ten, asking questions where the answers were practically right in front of them.

"I'm just a little superstitious, okay? It's the same as your salt throwing thing when you spill it trying to cook something."

Roy wheeled the computer chair back under the desk and sat next to Marth on the loveseat.

"Why do we always do this?"

Marth was confused as he eased his arm around Roy's shoulder. "Do what?"

"Fight over stupid shit." He shifted so he was much more closer to Marth.

"Because that's what couples do."

"At least it wasn't like yesterday where we fought over whose sock was on the floor." Roy chuckled at the memory.

"It wasn't mine," Marth argued. "I don't own any green socks."

Roy pulled away from the embrace and put on his "game face" as he termed it. He basically looked like he was deep in thought and one outburst from anyone to ruin it would send them flying. Like when someone would play a game on the computer without saving and, low and behold, the power would decide to go out, and then they would have to start all over again. That sort of reaction from that scenario was what would happen if you said the wrong thing to Roy when he was being serious.

"It wasn't mine, either – all of my socks are either white or black."

"You own one pair of grey socks," Marth replied. He knew that simply because he was the one who got stuck doing the laundry.

"The sock was green, though!"

"Does it really matter whose sock it is? I threw it out because it was all crusted and it stunk."

"…You haven't had anyone over, have you?" Roy's voice was small.

"I've been working overtime, do you think I have any time to invite annoyances over?"

There was silence.

"…We really need to break this terrible habit," Roy said after a while. "We can't keep arguing like this. It's not healthy."

"Are you going to break out the 'make love, not war' thing again?" Marth had heard it enough times.

Slowly, a grin began to form on Roy's features.

He was going to make love, all right.

-x-

Author's notes: Yes, another one shot collection, this time for Melee and it revolves around a single pairing, though others might make a cameo. The title is German and means "fire to ashes, water to ice".