DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ouran.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Beta-ed by warmsugar. Feedbacks/reviews/comments are very much welcome!

A FATHER AND DAUGHTER TALK

By: Kalachuchi

Ranka smiled at her after taking a bite from the homemade cookies Haruhi brought. "It's delicious Haruhi. Did you really make this for me?"

She paused from washing the dishes and nodded. "I've got nothing else to do and the kitchen was full of the ingredients anyway."

"Oohhh… my cute daughter is not only a top lawyer but a great cook as well. Kyoya-kun must be so happy to have you," Ranka gushed.

"Hmm…"

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"No, not really." She grabbed the towel and began to dry her hands. "It's just he didn't want me to bake them."

"Didn't want you to bake them?" he echoed incredulously. A vein popped out at his temple. "What, he didn't think my cute daughter could cook? Do you want me to give him a piece of my mind? Because I would have a lot to say to that man!"

"It's okay dad."

"Okay? It's not okay." He buried his face in his hands. "Oohhh… and I thought he was the one I could trust to take care of you. Had I known I would have talked to those wonderful twins you're friends with, or that gorgeous quiet guy, or that cute little boy, or that idiotic –" He paused. "Well. I really thought I made the right choice, you know." He watched Haruhi who was sitting down across him as she ate a cookie. "Why did he say that anyway?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "He said I should have just ordered ten boxes from the pastry store in Tokyo, or I should have ordered the maids to bake it for me."

"Oh." Ranka's eyebrow rose. "So why didn't you?"

"It wouldn't be homemade if I ordered it and it wouldn't be special if I just let others to do it for me," she replied, looking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the weird thing is he got angry at me after tasting them. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"No, it definitely –" Ranka blinked. "Haruhi, what's that on your finger?"

She glanced at her hand. "Oh this?" She raised her right pinky and shrugged. "I got a little burn while I was taking the cookies out of the oven."

"Did he see that after tasting them?"

"I suppose so."

Ranka leaned back and smiled. "Oh. I guess I made the right choice after all."

Haruhi looked at him confused.

"Haruhi, are you happy?"

She looked at her father. "Of course I am. I've got a great job and I've won every case I had."

"I mean, are you happy being with Kyoya?"

"Well…" she pondered at the question. "I suppose so."

Ranka suddenly felt bad for Kyoya. Haruhi's tongue can be so sharp sometimes. "You're not sure?"

"He's been really kind to me and he gives me everything." She made a face. "Even things that I really don't need. But I guess that's just his upbringing."

"Well you know, Kyoya-kun is a really nice boy, very generous. I mean," Ranka's eyes were filled with memories. "Why, I remember when he gave me a ticket to France so I could go visit the place, and when he paid for that new TV set I've been wanting and – "

"Ticket to France? TV set?" Haruhi frowned. "I thought that came from the bonus you got from your job."

Ranka froze before chuckling hastily. "Of course, of course. How silly of me." He stood up and went to sit beside her. "Tell me Haruhi, what's Kyoya-kun like?"

She paused for a moment, a finger on her cheek. "Kyoya is…"

"Yes?" Ranka leaned forward.

"Kyoya is Kyoya."

Silence.

"Do you love him?" Ranka asked.

"Of course I do," she replied automatically. "Or I wouldn't have married Kyoya even though you practically sold me to him," she added meaningfully.

"Oh come on," Ranka waved her last comment off. "You can tell me stories you know," he pressed. "I wouldn't tell."

"I really don't have anything to share."

"Impossible. Living with Ootori Kyoya must not be that boring. You can tell me anything… like… when did you first realize you loved him?"

"When? Hmm…" She frowned, forehead crunched in concentration.

Ranka waited expectantly.

"Hmm…"

The minutes passed by.

She looked up. "When did I…"

Ranka stifled a yawn.

"Haruhi?" he called, wondering if she had fallen asleep. Then she brought her fist down her palm.

"Ootoro."

"Excuse me?" Ranka sweatdropped.

Haruhi looked at him. "When he brought me to that floating restaurant where they sell seafood. Everything was so delicious. I couldn't pick a favorite – although their ootoro was really exquisite. We should go there sometime." She smiled dreamily at the memory before blinking. "Oh yeah, I forgot. And later that day he proposed to me."

"You forgot?" he cracked, disbelief dancing in his face. He stared at her, wondering how long he had been fathering a gluttonous daughter.

"Huh?" Haruhi looked at him. Once again, he felt sorry for the youngest Ootori heir.

"Never mind." He stood up and shakily walked back to his room. "I think I need a rest. Just… say hi to Kyoya-kun for me."

"That floating restaurant, huh?" Kyoya mused as he watched the scene his hidden cameras had recorded. He picked up his cellphone and began to dial. He waited for the other line to pick up.

"This is Ootori Kyoya. I would like to make a reservation for two…"