AN: This shortfic is aimed to kill two birds with one stone in that it A: gets yet another Machias/Emma plot out of my head (and the crowd goes mild) and B: serves as proof that I can set out to write a story under 1000 words and actually succeed. I've been a little iffy at that lately :P

Perks of Cohabitation

The sound of three sharp knocks on his door roused Machias from his fitful sleep, and when he raised his still tired eyes they were greeted with a blurred mass of colors and shapes that he could only presume was his temporary housemate.

"Emma," he greeted, his voice raspy and thin as he gingerly sat up. "Is it that time already?"

He was pretty sure she nodded, though it wasn't exactly easy to tell. Blast it all, where did he leave his glasses?

"All right, I'll be down in a few minutes. Thank you again for waking me up by the way, I really appreciate it."

She nodded again.

"Oh, before I forget; have you eaten already, or did you want to grab something on the way?"

Yet another nod, followed by a meow that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh.

"U-Uh, no! I mean, no I haven't eaten yet," she stammered, sounding more flustered than she had in quite a long time. "W-We should make a quick stop for some breakfast after we leave. I'll meet you downstairs?"

"Of course," Machias answered, deciding that the coffee he was going to brew in a few minutes would taste much better after a quick shower and putting on his glasses far too late to catch the sight of Emma's bright red face as she left his room, Celine leisurely trailing after.

"So. That happened."

"…"

"I mean, it's understandable. It's his house, he's comfortable here and it was really warm last night. Who needs an extra layer like a shirt when it's so muggy already?" Celine asked rhetorically, not hiding her amusement as she saw Emma's blush start to deepen with every word, the fact she had been caught blatantly staring probably not helping matters.

(Not that she could be faulted for it. Much like everyone else in Class VII, the time since Thors had treated him ridiculously kindly).

"O-Of course! Like you said, it was stuffy the night before, it's something he's probably used to… "

"And it's not like something you haven't seen before."

"And it's not like something I haven't – I'm going downstairs."

Celine grinned when Emma caught herself, narrowed her eyes and fixed her with an expression that was probably supposed to be a glare but was far too embarrassed and pouty to have the desired effect. "Sure. You do that."

She merely sniffed indignantly in reply and started to walk down the stairs, her head held high in an attempt to preserve what little dignity she could.

"Hey," Celine called out, mindful to listen for when she heard her partner's feet hit solid floor instead of creaky steps. "Could have been worse, right? Maybe he's a little bit more than just shirtless next time, who knows?"

"C-CELINE!"

"She makes my job too easy sometimes," she chuckled, finally deciding to show mercy on her (very hot, bothered and according to her ears tripping over her own feet) partner and sauntering off toward an open window for her customary morning stroll, tuning out the outraged invective without a second thought. "Well, I can't say this place isn't entertaining. This is way better than staying at a hotel, and that's not even counting the milk and fish."