((I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Really! I've been horribly busy with school, more school, even more school, orchestra, and the holidays. But, I plan on finishing this story eventually. Hopefully by next Christmas, seeing how it is a holiday story…

Story by the one and only Michie.

Haruka and Michiru are not mine. Though, I borrow them and play around with their families for a bit.

I have a list of ways Haruka's father makes hell for Michiru, so now the only problem is picking the best (worst?) ones. And of course, there's Haruka's mother…oh, just read it.

Reviews make me happy. A happy Michie churns out more chapters. See? It's easy. Just leave a quick note and some feedback. Ideas are always welcome too. I might just use yours eventually, seeing as how I only have a few days of their stay really planned out.

Enjoy!))

The large, heavy door creaked slowly open, and Michiru found herself gazing down at a short, plump woman dressed in a gray, simple dress. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and though her face was wrinkled, she didn't look to be over forty. Peering around the door, she glanced first at Michiru, then at Haruka. At the sight of the bigger woman, her face lit up and she pushed the door hurriedly open.

"Haruka-san! Your mother is very glad you decided to come. She should be coming downstairs…soon."

Gazing behind the short woman, Michiru snuck a peek at the house within. Polished floors, a large chandelier, and a table with cookies that appeared to be for decoration only were all she saw at first, but glancing farther back, she spotted a towering staircase, its railings curved intricately. The steps were covered with lush carpet, and Michiru could hear the soft pads of footsteps on it.

"Haruka-chan! Oh, I'm so glad you made it here safely! Come in, dear; let me get you something to eat! Yoko, can you carry her bags in? I'll have someone pull your car around as well…"

A thin woman, about Michiru's height, quickly stepped over to them. From her large pearl earrings, matching gold and pearl necklace, and cream-colored dress, Michiru assumed that this much be Haruka's mother. Her eyes were small, squinty almost, and they seemed to miss nothing, while her lips were a thin red line that was bright with lipstick. She didn't seem too bad, not nearly like Haruka had made her seem. Michiru giggled. She had never heard anyone refer to her lover like her mother had; not even Michiru herself, though she had lived with Haruka for years.

"Ah…don't worry about it, mother. I doubt Yoko-san will be able to carry all of our bags, and besides, I prefer to move my car myself. I can take care of it; just give me a few minutes," Haruka replied with a nervous shrug.

" 'Our bags?' Haruka-chan…" She swung open the door further, and looking around the maid, she finally spotted Michiru. Almost immediately, her face fell in a look of disappointment. Haruka frowned at her mother. She had explained to her that she was bringing someone very close to her. Sure, she hadn't explicitly said that Michiru was her lover, but still, one would have thought she could have picked it up.

"This must be your friend, then. When you said something about bringing a special person, I assumed that it would be…well, a man."

Haruka snorted. "I never said anything of the sort, mother. But I didn't lie when I said that Michiru here is very special to me."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself!" Michiru started. "Ten'ou-san, my name is Kaioh Michiru. I've been living with your daughter for a few years now, and I must say that she's a very wonderful person." Michiru tried her best to smile warmly, bow, and look pleased to meet this woman. This, after all, was Haruka's mother.

Forcing a smile, the elder Ten'ou woman looked at Michiru, and bowed in return. "Can I call you Michiru-san, dear? Please, for one of my daughter's good friends, feel free to call me Shioko."

"Mother, Michiru is a violinist. You've probably heard her perform with an orchestra or ensemble and didn't know it. She's quite famous, and talented."

Haruka could almost see her mother's opinion of her lover increase. The two women began chatting, something about string quartets and pricing. Taking the opportunity, Haruka slipped out the door to drive her car around back.

She pulled up around the same time her father did. He looked concerned as he climbed out of his car, not even bothering to inform his mechanic that he was home. Moving quickly and quietly, he was about to slip in the back door when he caught sight of Haruka unloading the two bags.

"Well, ah, hello, Haruka-chan," he said nervously. "I didn't know you'd be here by now."

"We woke up early, father. Where are you sneaking back from?"

"That-that's none of your business! Your mother won't find out I was gone, and you won't tell her either! Now, let me take one of those bags. I'll say that I heard you pull up and was going to help you unload."

Haruka sighed and handed her father one of the bags. He was probably off with another woman, doing things she probably didn't want to know. The man had always been gone like this, even when she was a child. Shioko knew nothing; to her, he was always away on business. It hadn't taken long for the young Haruka to put two and two together though. There was always a plethora of young women at his parties, he was always looking at women on the street, and his relationship with her mother was obviously not at the same level it was years ago. But, she promised to herself, she wouldn't let it get to her. The only thing that she really needed to worry about was keeping her father away from Michiru, which would probably be a challenge.

Striding into the main hall, the two set the suitcases down at the bottom of the winding staircase. The women walked over to them.

"Ah, Kenji! This is Haruka-chan's good friend, Kaioh Michiru-san. She's a famous violinist, and she says she knows some people to talk to if we want a string quartet at our party." Shioko smiled warmly at her husband, who by that time had noticed Michiru. The man was hardly paying attention to his wife; instead, he was staring at the young woman like she was some sort of exquisite dessert. Michiru was obviously unnerved by this, but she did her best to appear friendly, all at the same time inching away from him and closer to Haruka.

"It's nice to meet you, Ten'ou-san," Michiru said warily. She bowed slightly, never taking her eyes off of him.

"Ah, yes, of course. A pleasure, Michiru-san," he replied, giving Michiru an unreadable smile.

Sensing a need to break the awkward moment, Haruka slipped an arm around the smaller woman's waist. "We should get our things unpacked, so if Mother could show us where we'll be sleeping…"

"All right. Do you need help with the bags? Well, anyways, this way." She led them up the winding staircase, with Yoko behind them. Glancing back, Michiru was relieved to see that Haruka's father had gone off elsewhere. She didn't like the way he looked at her, as if she was some sort of delicious cookie or cake, and he was a starving man. Taking the smaller bag from Haruka, she followed the older woman up the stairs.

After walking through a small hallway decorated with large, expensive paintings, the four of them stopped at a white door. Turning the fancy knob, Shioko led them into the room.

The walls of the bedroom were a pale pink, and the plush white carpet felt like soft sand beneath Michiru's stocking feet. One wall was almost completely covered by a large mirror and vanity, with various drawers beneath. A plush pink bench was pulled underneath the counter, and the top was decorated with vases of flowers and glass bowls filled with cotton balls and swabs. Off to the left, the bed was white, with pink pillows and lacy sheets. The whole room smelled like someone had dumped a flower garden in one of the tall closets that lined the back wall. To finish the look off, white-framed windows, two of them, looked over the garden, covered only by translucent lace.

Smiling smugly, Shioko announced that this would be Haruka's room.

Michiru couldn't help but smile at Haruka's reaction. Her companion was obviously feeling nauseous from the overwhelming floral smell, not to mention the fact that the room looked like the kind of thing she would rather die than spend a week in. But there was no arguing with the older woman; Shioko had already begun showing the pair the connected bathroom, the expensive lotion on the vanity counter (which, the two learned, had been designed to hold makeup), and the handmade French lace sheets.

Down the hall was the second room. Upon entering it, Haruka immediately felt more at ease. Unlike the other room, with the overwhelming pink coloring and floral scent, this one was calmer, and more masculine at that. The shorter, harder navy carpet matched the cotton sheets, and the walls were a simple white. This room had no bathroom attached, and only had one closet. There was a mirror in the room, but it was a simple floor-length one, and wasn't lit up.

The room smelled like clean laundry- clean socks, even, Michiru thought- and the scent wasn't overwhelming. The whole room itself seemed like a better fit for Haruka than any other place in the house.

The elder Ten'ou explained that there was a small bathroom right across the hall, and that there was everything Michiru needed in it: lotion, shampoo, cotton swabs and the like, though she had been sure to bring her own. Shioko then apologized, saying that she wished she had a nicer room for the violinist, because she had assumed that Haruka's "friend" would be a man. All Michiru could do was laugh politely and say that the room would be fine.

"An early dinner will be served in an hour or so. You two make yourselves at home. Michiru-san, Haruka-chan would be glad to show you around the house as well. Yoko, they have their bags?"

The maid nodded. "We have them, mother," Haruka replied in a monotone.

"Then I supposed I'll send someone to find you when it's time to eat." The maid and mother then left the pair in the navy room, keeping the door wide open.

Michiru began to giggle. "Your mother seems like a nice woman. A bit strange, but not nearly as bad as you described."

Haruka sighed. "She's just nice because you're a guest. Plus, you look and act like her ideal daughter. Try living with her for years."

Laying her head on her lover's shoulder, Michiru surveyed the room they were in. Her room. She smiled at the thought of Haruka having to spend days sleeping in the flowery pink-filled bedroom down the hall. Gazing up at the other woman's set face, she asked a question.

"Haruka, where was your room when you lived here?"

"It's the room my mother has me in now, though she's gone and 'fixed it up'. Believe me, I wouldn't have lasted a week if it had been like that when I was thirteen."

"Hm. You'd think that she would keep it as you left it for when you come home. Ah well."

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Haruka looked down at Michiru. "Well, to my mother, it and the garage were the two flawed rooms in this perfect world of a house. Of course she'd want to fix it as soon as I left."

"Ah." Michiru hesitated, sensing Haruka's reluctance to discuss her childhood. "Maybe we should switch rooms. I don't think you can last even a day with that scent."

Haruka chuckled. "Only if you think you'll be all right with it."

"I can survive perfume shopping with Usagi for hours. I'll be fine with this, as long as I don't stay in there the whole time."

"Perhaps we should get unpacked then."

"How about after dinner? I'd like to see more of this perfect house so I don't get lost," Michiru explained.

"All right. Don't worry, I'll make sure you know where you're going." The pair left the bedroom, holding hands. Haruka softly shut the door behind them, and they padded down the carpeted stairs.

((tbc))