Playing House

by Cooking Spray

Disclaimer: Excessive thought of CS as the true creator of Ouran may result in legal complications.

The second of my submissions to 7snogs. This one's for theme number 7, milk. I love writing these two. If I had the time and the work ethic, I'd sign up for more themes. . . but. . . y'know. XD It's rare enough that I'm inspired to churn out even this much as it is. I am on a total Ouran roll. I haven't loved a series like this in a long time.

Yamato and Naoko are mine. Tamaki's family is so fun. X3 Anyway, enjoy!

It had been a boring day for the members of the host club. Business had been slow due to the anticipation of the j-rock concert that was taking place after school - Kyouya, expedient though he was, had spent all morning on the phone arguing with the venue and the ticket vendor to no avail. All he had now was a crick in his neck and depressing figures in his ledger, which meant it was safe to say that everyone was avoiding the Shadow King. Every time he saw a group of girls flashing glossies of the band in the schoolyard, a vein throbbed on his forehead, and somewhere, a light bulb blew.

The rest of the gang, sans one Mori and his beloved Mitsukuni, were enraptured in a game of Go Fish. Naturally, since it was a commoner activity, Haruhi was winning. Hunny nibbled on petit fours and sipped tea, watching, mesmerized, as Tamaki attempted to grow enough fungi to make dinner for a party of sixteen and the Hitachiin twins achieved new levels of cheating.

This was until the door was thrown open with great aplomb, sending a zephyr through the entirety of music room three that shattered everyone's reverie and scattered all of the playing cards (and the mushrooms) on the floor to opposite corners of the room (Tamaki would find them later, no doubt).

They noticed immediately, with some measure of relief, that the visitor (or rather, gate crasher) was a woman. She looked much older than their usual clientele, seeming to be in her thirties. Clad in a purple pantsuit that clung to every curve of her generously proportioned body and boasting a tumble of curly blonde hair and wickedly sexy features, she looked like a force to be reckoned with.

And she had a baby.

There was a pregnant pause, because there's always a pregnant pause in such cases, and it especially had to be pregnant in this case, on account of the baby being there.

Tamaki was the first to find his voice. "A-aunt Naoko?"

Mystery Woman's face arranged itself into a relieved grin. "Tama-kun!" She rushed over and attacked him, baby and all. "I knew I'd find you here! The girls outside told me all about your little club. . ."

Their king's expression clearly read "help!", but everyone else was much too busy displaying their own dumbfounded caricatures.

Kyouya, who had been sitting moodily in the picture window, got up and silently strode over, his glasses glinting ominously.

"Father." His voice was commanding. "Do you know this woman?"

Mysterious Woman released Tamaki, spinning around to frown at the newcomer. "My name is Naoko, so please stop referring to me as 'this woman'. And of course Tama-kun knows me! I'm his dear old auntie!"

Tamaki sighed greatly before punctuating this statement with a nod. "It's true."

Kyouya fell silent for a moment before asking, "And the baby?"

"This is Yamato! Say hi, my little love muffin!" Naoko lifted one of the child's tiny wrists and simulated a greeting. It was very clear which side of the family she belonged to.

Tamaki looked surprised. "I didn't know you had a child, Naoko-chan. . ." His eyes widened.

Naoko suddenly became very serious. "That's why I'm here. Tamaki. . . I need you to watch your cousin while I run a very important errand."

At this, Kyouya took it upon himself to intervene, stepping bodily between the both of them and breaking up the family reunion. "We are a host club, not a babysitting service. Our mission is to bring happiness to young girls, but we draw the line at playing nanny."

"Wait, mother!" Tamaki raised a palm and pulled Kyouya aside, exchanging Looks with Naoko in the process. "I know. . . something. This is a crisis! We cannot turn my dear auntie down in this time of need!"

Kyouya arched a brow. "And is there some reason why this "crisis" contributes to her inability to hire someone to look after her child like every other sensible woman?"

Naoko set her shoulders, and then butted in herself. "I haven't got the time. It's true that I may be irresponsible. . ." She looked down for a moment, and then continued. ". . .but Tama-kun is the only one I trust to keep this a secret. I think he knows why."

Yamato gurgled happily in agreement.

Kyouya gave the three of them hard stares, and then turned away. "Very well. . . since you are all being so cryptic, and I have no right to intrude on family matters-" - Hikaru and Kaoru stifled their snorts of laughter at this comment - "- then you can do whatever you like."

He walked over to the picture window again to resume his brooding, but not before turning around and giving Tamaki a warning. "But I am not playing mommy."

Tamaki gulped.

Now that everything was relatively settled, Naoko burst into smile again. "Well, Tama-kun, I have to go! Just remember, this is our little secret." She placed a manicured finger to her lips coyly, and then stepped behind the door, wheeling in a bassinet and placing her son inside.

"Mama won't be gone long, don't worry," she cooed down at him before addressing the rest of the host club. "Take good care of him!"

And then she was gone as soon as she had come.

Hunny struggled down from his chair and rushed to the scene, peering over the rim of the bassinet at the tiny bundle. "Takashi, Takashi, come see! He's so small. . ." When Mori arrived, Yamato promptly latched onto one of his fingers, and Hunny giggled.

The twins were the next to investigate. Yamato was disappointingly nonplussed by the funny faces they were making at him, but he concentrated on the vivid shade of their hair with interest, grabbing a handful of Kaoru's at one point and sending him whimpering with pain into the arms of his other half.

Tamaki and Haruhi hung back. The former because he was still in shock, and the latter because she was trying to digest the latest dilemma her King had gotten them all into.

"How do you intend to deal with this, Tamaki-sempai? Surely you can't look after the baby on your own. . ." She looked at him dubiously, waiting for an answer. He was far too preoccupied with himself to be suited for childcare.

Tamaki wibbled, and then realized that Haruhi had a point. "I don't know. . . I guess our only choice is to stay here and look after him until Naoko-chan gets back." He brightened, getting an ingenious idea. "Haruhi! You could stay and help me! You know these commoner things better than I do!"

"I may be a commoner, but I'm also an only child," she said flatly, even though her father probably counted as a younger sibling. "Besides, this is your problem, not mine. I can't stay after school. I have things to get done."

"But Ha-ru-hi. . ." Tamaki went straight to Puppy Dog Eyes Mode, looking at her beseechingly.

Haruhi pointedly looked the other way, at the baby. She did feel a little sorry for him - the specifics were foggy, but it was obvious that his existence was not supposed to be linked with his mother's in any way, for whatever reasons. Naoko had appeared to be very caring toward him, so it must be hard for her to have to hide things.

No, no. She had to stop thinking this way before she developed sympathy for him.

She looked back at Tamaki. He was still staring at her pathetically.

It was no use trying to resist, then. She sighed, and caved.

"Alright, I'll help you look after him," Haruhi muttered, defeated.

"Score one for Tono!" the twins chorused, grinning devilishly as their king instantly began to shower Haruhi with unnecessary gratitude.

Tamaki's "Get-Haruhi-Alone-for-the-Afternoon-to-Play-House" plan had succeeded.

It was four 'o clock. School was out, and everyone had gone home (or, speaking for the majority of Ouran's female population, to the j-rock concert). Everyone, that was, except for two.

So far, things hadn't been so bad. Yamato was a well-behaved baby in comparison to Ranka, Haruhi had to admit. It was Tamaki that was the problem.

Inspired by the situation, he had began to talk at length of his dreams of fathering a litter of children in his own image, complete with rhapsodious hand clasping and sparkling aplenty. Tamaki was, it seemed, quite the family man. For the moment, it was actually amusing - he hadn't moved on to grandchildren yet.

"I'm pretty sure that Aryan features are recessive, Tamaki-sempai," Haruhi said with a smirk, looking down into the bassinet at Yamato's blue, blue eyes. Only babies could achieve that certain hue. Well, babies and Tamaki, she was forced to amend, noticing the similarity in her senior's eyes. But the two were hardly different.

"Beauty is recessive?" Tamaki looked distinctly gypped. His pouting was so close to that of his cousin's that Haruhi couldn't really be bothered by the vain remark. Besides, vanity was something that Tamaki rolled out of bed with, and she supposed he did have a good reason to be proud.

"Hm. . ." He thought a moment, assuming a comical pose of contemplation. "Then I should like my daughter to have. . . brown hair, and brown eyes." He nodded decisively, looking very pleased with his selection, and instantly became starry-eyed imagining miniature versions of Haruhi cavorting around.

Haruhi snorted. "That's a drastic change. . . you know, you can't get too idealistic about your unborn children. Even the King can't control everything." She was still having some difficulty grappling with the idea of Tamaki as a father. A real one, that was.

Tamaki pouted again. "Ha-ru-hi. . . you're ruining all my fantasies. . ." He gave the corner a look of longing.

Haruhi was about to say something that would've sent him into shadowy exile for sure when Yamato began to contort his own features, balling up his tiny fists and squirming uncomfortably. Tamaki immediately snapped out of the trance, surveying his little cousin's distress blankly.

"Haruhi, what does he want? I don't know these commoner things. . ." He poked Yamato curiously in the side, which got him a very irritable-sounding wail.

The commoner scowled. "You know, just a moment ago, you two looked a lot alike."

This comment had the opposite intended effect, as Tamaki instantly began to glow. "You can baby your dear old dad as much as you want, Haruhi. . ."

"No."

Tamaki, on cue, wilted.

Yamato's discontent was rising in volume. His grabbing motions were becoming more fervent, and he seemed to be straining himself toward Haruhi.

"Eh? What's he doing?"

Haruhi blinked once, and then saw that the motions the baby was making were toward. . . her chest. It then became very obvious what it was little Yamato wanted.

"I think. . . he's hungry," Haruhi said somewhat haltingly.

"How do you know that? You really must teach me all of these wonderful commoner skills. . ." But when Haruhi failed to react to the mention of her social status as usual, Tamaki became curious. He looked from baby, to Haruhi, from baby, to Haruhi. . . and then, suddenly, realization dawned.

Blushing and sputtering, he thrust a finger in the infant's direction. "You. . . you naughty baby! No one violates my precious daughter so brazenly. . ."

Haruhi turned, slightly flushed but mostly agitated. "He's only six months old. Babies can't be expected to have couth." In a lower tone, she added, "Not that adults can be expected to in this family, either. . ."

There was an awkward silence, only interrupted by Yamato's petulant cries and audible grabbing noises. Tamaki took this time to reconfigure his complexion to resemble that of a tomato's, preparing himself for the embarrassing subject matter that was most likely ahead.

"We're going to have to do something about this. Obviously, I can't feed him. . . and it's apparent that he isn't used to formula. . ." Haruhi looked down, avoiding any sight of Tamaki because, if possible, the horrible expression she knew he was wearing would only serve to make her feel more at unease. This was a serious situation, as far as she was concerned. Well, as serious as a situation could be, with Tamaki involved.

"I don't understand why your aunt breast feeds him, though. . . it's unusual, for a women of her status." Haruhi frowned at the carpet instead of Tamaki, who was undoubtedly still quailing from the use of the word "breast". She chanced a look at the screaming baby in the bassinet that was the cause of all the trouble, and knew she should probably try to soothe him, but she really wanted to feed him before holding him in any way, for reasons that did not need to be explained.

"Well, Naoko was always the wild one in the family. . . Which explains the whole love child thing too, I suppose." He watched Haruhi look at his screaming cousin with obvious indecision. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were intense - a standard thinking pose. He thought she looked exactly like a concerned mother should, except for the fact that her and baby couldn't have resembled each other less.

"I can't believe I'm here babysitting just because your aunt is too afraid to admit she has a child. Why can't she tell anyone, anyhow?"

Tamaki sighed. "It's because the man she was dating. . . was not wealthy. My grandfather thinks that it is unfit for them to be together." He looked down at Yamato somewhat pensively, developing a deep sense of sympathy for the little hellion.

Haruhi looked up at him, honestly shocked. "A commoner. . .? I thought the caste system was mostly just for show, anymore. . ." She let the end of her sentence trail. Tamaki-sempai's aunt was in love with a commoner, and her father didn't approve. It was a modern day tragedy, if she had ever heard of one. Things still went on this way?

She studied Tamaki's profile. He seemed upset about this, for some reason. It was clear, now, that everyone with the name of Suoh was very much into show, but Tamaki's theatrics seemed different somehow, in comparison. She couldn't believe he really shared this needlessly aristocratic viewpoint. . . otherwise, why had he even agreed to cover for his aunt? Sure, they were family, and sure, she was a woman in distress. . . But from what she understood, as heir to the title of his namesake and all of the society benefits that included, he could've had the right to refuse her.

Also, why would he have shown she, Haruhi, so much kindness? The only reason she was a part of the host club was because of her debt, but Tamaki sometimes went to exorbitant lengths to protect her true identity that seemed to step outside the boundaries of obligation. It could just be a fascination with her way of life, but then there was that time at the beach. . . She closed her eyes and turned back to the baby. Extraordinarily simple as he seemed, Haruhi realized that there might be more to her senior than his bravado and over-the-top antics had led her to believe.

She wanted to ask if he felt the same way, but she thought that would be too selfish. Some sort of new tension had filled the air, and she didn't want to think about anything for too long, in case that it could be revealed anew in the same uncomfortable light. Instead, she reached down into the bassinet and began to stroke Yamato's back, trying to stop his crying.

Tamaki smiled wanly, looking at the maternal ministrations with fondness. "I don't think a baby could possibly be bad, no matter who its parents are," he said quietly, smoothing a blond cowlick that had cropped up on Yamato's head.

Haruhi blinked in response to Tamaki's rare seriousness, and then shared in his smile. "No. I don't think so either."

He went on. "It may make me old-fashioned, but. . . I believe two people should be together because they want to be, not because of who they are." He chuckled almost dismissively, and turned to look at the darkening sky outside the picture window.

There were at least ten sarcastic remarks Haruhi could think of to say to that, but since Tamaki was, for once, being genuine, she held her tongue. This side of him confused her, because it made the entirety of the host club and all of his previous behaviors seem even more puzzling. He was both simplistic and complicated, and she was unable to form an opinion about him.

Instead, she agreed. "I think so, too."

Tamaki smiled down at her, warmly, and for a second she felt of twinge of uncertainty, of nervousness; in spite of the fact that, or perhaps because of it, for once, he was not intentionally trying to play host.

Then, as is prone to happening in all situations of discomfort, there was a distraction.

The double doors of music room three creaked open, and one curly blonde head peered around it. Upon seeing that only Tamaki and Haruhi remained, Naoko's face blossomed into a smile, and she scurried inside, closing the door gently behind her. She was dressed in a slinky black evening gown now, but the men's trench coat that hung around her shoulders made her apparel seem less suspicious.

"Aah, Tama-kun! Thanks for taking such good care of my little boy!" She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and leaned down into the bassinet, lifting up her unhappy son.

"Shh, shh, mama's here now. . . You don't have to be hungry much longer. . ." She cradled Yamato to her chest, and he curled up against the warmth. Both Tamaki and Haruhi couldn't help but marvel at the cuteness of the display.

Naoko smiled gratefully at the pair. "I want to repay you in some way for doing this. . . you really didn't have to."

"Nonsense," Tamaki said nonchalantly, waving his hand. "We didn't mind at all, did we, Haruhi?"

"Not at all. You have a lovely son, Naoko-san," Haruhi responded, nodding with conviction.

Naoko's gaze shifted to the shorter girl. "I remember you from earlier. You must be a good friend of Tama-kun's to stay after and help him like this. . . I can't understand why you're wearing a boy's school uniform, though." She placed a musing finger on her chin, surveying Haruhi's appearance.

Both father and daughter were thrown, assuming identical aghast expressions.

"H-how did you. . .?" Tamaki pointed at Haruhi, dumbfounded.

His aunt giggled. "Well, she's much too pretty to be a boy. It's pretty obvious, I think. Especially in her mannerisms. That, and anyone can see that you. . . well, nevermind. I'll let you find out that one on your own, Haru-chan." She winked.

"E-eh?" Haruhi looked from Naoko to up at Tamaki, who seemed slightly flushed again. For a self-proclaimed egotist, he embarrassed very easily these days.

"Well, I must be off!" She lowered her voice to a timbre that was nearly a whisper. "Really, I thank you both again for doing this. I'll see to it that you're rewarded somehow, whether Tama-kun likes it or not. No one says no to Naoko!"

As predicted, both Tamaki and Haruhi opened their mouths to refuse. Naoko stepped back and glanced them over, as did Yamato, who had quieted and was now sucking his thumb and staring at them with his wide blue eyes.

"Hm, Haruhi and Tamaki. . . you make a good set of parents." She smirked and turned on her heel, waving over her shoulder. "Goodbye!"

And then she was gone, leaving the newly christened couple to stare blankly after her, contemplating the possible meanings of her words.

Tamaki spoke first, clearing his throat and looking away carefully. "You know, what Naoko-chan said is true. . . you did take good care of my little cousin. . ."

Haruhi's lips tilted. "Please, father. That's nearly pedophilia, you know. And you said Yamato was bad. . ."

Tamaki reddened again, still not able to meet Haruhi's eyes. "A King has the right to rearrange his familial roles if he sees fit!"

His daughter sighed, but her lips were still upturned. "Yes, but what will Kyouya-sempai think?"

"He. . . he won't have to know! It can be a secret between the two of us!"

Haruhi raised an eyebrow. "A family affair?" She laughed shortly, shaking her head. "You're such an idiot." The insult was said with little malicious intent.

Tamaki looked affronted anyhow, beginning to sniffle. "How can you speak so meanly about your fiancé-to-be. . .?"

"Well, it's a wife's duty to let their husband know when he's being stupid." In some absurd way, this banter was fun. That was, if you didn't ponder the implications too hard.

Tamaki's eyes grew wide and teary. "I don't like it when you talk dirty, Haruhi. . ."

Haruhi brushed off her blazer. "Get used to married life, Tamaki-sempai," she said errantly, an amused jaunt to her features.

"Can I at least carry you over the threshold?"

"No, but you could help me with my school things."

Tamaki shuffled off dejectedly, head hanging. "As the lady wishes. . . My darling wife, you are so cruel. . ."

As her new busboy dutifully retrieved the mentioned briefcase, Haruhi remembered something. "Tamaki-sempai. . . do you know what Naoko-san meant by saying something was obvious to everyone? She said I had to figure it out, but she didn't finish her sentence."

Tamaki froze, and the blush instantly made a comeback. The King was dense in many ways, but even he had understood enough of his aunt's implication to know what she was talking about. He grabbed the briefcase and strode over to her, handing it over somewhat roughly and striding toward the door with sudden purpose.

"Tamaki-sempai?" She blinked, confused by his seeming shift in mood. Had it been wrong to bring up?

"If you can't guess. . ." he said finally, his voice more strained than usual, ". . .then it is not important, anyhow."

Haruhi fell silent, looking down at the briefcase and then scrambling to catch up with the blond's unnaturally long strides. Why had he become so suddenly distant? She tried to recall the rest of the conversation for some possible hint that would lead her to the answer. All that she knew was that it was something that made Tamaki embarrassed, judging by the blush that had followed.

A certain frustration overtook her, then. If it was something that was apparent to everyone, why couldn't she figure it out? Watching Tamaki's stiffly set shoulders made her feel guilty. He rarely ever got truly angry. It must be serious.

Resolving to set things straight right then, Haruhi quickened her step so that she was walking in synch with her senior. In lieu of a spoken apology that would only seem false, she would make a quiet offer. After all, Tamaki had seemed to be happy just earlier, when they had been talking about his "family". It would make her feel a little strange to say what she intended, and it might not work, but it was the only thing she knew to do in this case.

"I can stop being your daughter, if you like," she said plaintively, looking directly into his obscured face.

Tamaki paused, for a moment, and she could hear his breath hitch - but then, without hesitating or even saying a word, he reached out and twined his hand with hers, squeezing as hard as he could without hurting and making her fall closer to him.

Momentarily shocked by how quickly he had taken advantage of her offer, and the contact, Haruhi stumbled, eyes wide. Then, noticing how tightly he clung to her, she lowered them to the ground, and thought she might be starting to understand, a little.

As if nothing bad had never happened, Tamaki turned and looked down at her, grinning broadly. "Ah, daddy's little girl is a cheeky one, I see! Don't worry, nothing will keep us apart!"

He was referring to her as his daughter again. I think I understand, Tamaki-sempai. . . some of the reasons why you are. . . the way you are.

She smiled back, slowly but fully. "Right."

He was still holding her hand.

For some reason, this got all sad at the end. . . and it turned out to be really, really long. I don't know how that happened. I hope everyone liked Naoko and Yamato. I just realized how much they reminded me of Noriko and her child from Gravitation. . . XD They're characters that just kind of created themselves when I started writing, and I'm not sure that Tamaki's father really has any siblings, but I wanted to write something like this. "Marrying into money" isn't that big of a deal anymore, in the modern day, but I'm suspecting that wealthy families would want to carry on their name with a certain amount of prestige. Most rich kids are raised thinking that way. Tamaki's just special.

I enjoyed writing this a lot. Babies are so cute, and there were a lot of opportunities for banter, and for Tamaki to be as silly as I wanted him to. I just hope that no one was too OOC in those last few paragraphs.

Thoughts?