AN: As per the preview, some stuff will be happening this time around… and things will begin to piece together, methinks… My apologies for the overdue update. My life suddenly got busier with gym, driving lessons, and a forum-based roleplay involving pirates... yes, PIRATES. ARRR!

KxH: Nope, not Tanigawa-san. Just a bloody loyal fan, I suppose.

AD: I read the English translations. As for GA, well, let's just say I made the mistake of allowing the plot and number of characters to get out of hand… a bad tendency. Not to mention the sheer number of Mary Sues I recall having inadvertently created for the time… ugh… bad memories.

Disclaimer: Tanigawa-san owns all rights and stuff to the characters and stuff… K-something studios licenses the animation and stuff… and Bandai does the dubbing and stuff… yes, I've run out of non-witty quips to insert here, so sue me. :P

Chapter 5: Double Dog Date

"You expect me… to wear this?" It wasn't so much as I didn't expect Haruhi to have brought in a bizarre excuse for a 'disguise'. It was more on the lines of the fact that she was actually seriously telling me that I was without a shadow of a doubt, going to wear it… and on a pretend date, no less! As of now my little sister was 'renting' the gear from our precocious Brigade Commander, prancing around the living room like some kind of mutated monstrosity out to infect the rest of the world with her horrible sense of fashion.

"Of course!" Haruhi answered, full of conviction as always.

She slipped on her own disguise as if trying it out for the first time. It consisted of a pair of wire-framed, sleek-lens glasses… if I had to give an accurate description, I would say that I think I saw them on the newly elected Student Council President on the very few occasions I've seen him… and a blonde wig with its hair oh so conveniently tied into a ponytail. Ah, yes, the ponytail. Did I ever tell you that those things turn me on? Err… anyway…

"You can't expect us to blend in without the proper gear!"

Proper gear, eh? I once again glanced at my little sister, who had now infected Shamisen with the B-Grade monster movie costume and was swinging him playfully around the living room. "Dare I ask, how is this gear proper?"

To my hidden relief, Haruhi nicely asked my sister to return the outfit. And of course, little sis, who seemed to have some sort of silly mutual understanding with 'Haru-nyan', as she had heard Tsuruya-san call my slave-driving boss on more than one occasion, complied, before taking that male tri-colored cat upstairs to probably dress him up some more. Not that I've actually seen my sister play dress-up with the cat. The idea just struck me at the moment. Now explain to me how this gear is proper. I seem to have lost the idea somewhere above the clouds.

"We're going in disguised as a couple!"

That much, I know… but what's with the horrible outfit? Haruhi flashed the monster costume in front of me. The first, and most obvious, article to note, was a dirt blonde wig with its strands flowing wildly down to just past shoulder length, uncombed, and screaming 'WOODSTOCK!' into my brains repetitively. Held by the same hand was a pair of smoke lens sunglasses, bearing a suspicious resemblance to the ones popularized by the late John Lennon. I'm not really the superstitious type, but considering the existence of two crazy female versions of Anthony Fremont in the current scenario, God knows this might be some kind of very bad omen. Last, and certainly the strangest of all, was a tape-on mustache that overall, was probably going to give me the appearance of somebody trying to cosplay the gym leader Blaine when he was disguised as a hippie… "That doesn't explain why I have to wear the stupid mustache. Won't that make me look old?"

"Exactly! The scenario is that you're a rich, or at least, well-to-do man approaching his late thirties, and I'm your young, newlywed bride!"

She even thought up a story to match the ridiculous get-ups… that's Haruhi, alright. But why do I have to be the old one?

"Putting on makeup to adjust my appearance is way too much of a hassle, and the mustache is a much simpler means to create a convincing illusion of age!"

Even if she does hold a strong point, chances are, people will think that my character of rich-or-well-to-do near-midlife-crisis man is a loser who acts younger because he misses his childhood or something, since he wears his hair like that and has sunglasses on. And speaking of which, what kind of idiot wears sunglasses on a cold winter night? Nevertheless, these questions were lost on me, as Haruhi brought out what might become the fanciest suit I'll ever wear. "I have to dress like the part too, eh?"

"That's right." Haruhi answered simply as she removed the plastic dust shield and thrust the suit, along with the abovementioned items, into my arms. "Didn't have time to take your measurements, so I made a wild guess. Get changed now! We don't want to be late!"

Protest isn't really much of an option, especially when it comes to dealing with Haruhi. I have yet to see anybody put up some kind of resistance against her whims and survive unscarred. And so, with this ridiculous luggage in tow, I trudged up the stairs and into my room, shutting the door for that privacy that all men deserve. The silly disguise plopped down onto the bed as I began to remove my own clothes by the layer. Snow jacket, followed by uniform coat, waistcoat, tie, dress shirt… I won't delve any further into the pointless details of me changing. After all, that defeats the purpose of my closing the door for privacy.

As I began swapping my own apparel for some borrowed stuff, I made note of the Rubik's Cube that fell out of my coat pocket and rolled a few feet on the floor before stopping. Hard to believe that this little implement invented by a Hungarian sculptor back in the 70's had a 1-in-3 chance of being some kind of program with a devilishly ambiguous function. It begs me to wonder if 'Scribe' really was worth searching for. To be honest, I'd rather watch the end of the world as we know it because of my negligence, rather than knowingly causing it because of going by a devious tip by an evil Soviet Russian. Nevertheless, if there's a chance that this thing might actually do the opposite, and in fact save us from all this trouble, then the risk is worth it!

My phone rang, with a familiar number flashing on the screen. "Nagato?"

The voice on the other line was rather unexpected. "I've found what seems to be another loophole in the other Suzumiya-san's ploy."

"And what might that be?"

"Instead of holding the phone and causing it to lose signal in the process, I just have to speak into the mouthpiece while Nagato-san is holding it."

Koizumi sounded like he was on Cloud 9. And… is this the only reason why you called me?

"Not entirely. The reason for I called you is that I've already solved the Tower of Hanoi, with unsatisfactory results. The probability of your Rubik's Cube being 'Scribe' has risen to 50."

"Is this supposed to make me happy, or warn me that I might inadvertently give the enemy the upper hand?"

"It was more of the latter, actually, but I suppose you could be happy, if the program does in fact work in our favor. Also, in case you might ask, I've tried contacting my colleagues, to no avail. Apparently, the numbers are active, it's just that none of them are answering. In any case, enjoy your date with Suzumiya-san."

I could imagine that sneaky bastard on the other side of the connection, grinning like he had the whole idea figured out. Trust me, the last thing I want right now is a date with Haruhi. Besides, she calls it an 'eavesdropping session' or something like that. "It is not a date. It is a… tailing operation or something. You know what I mean."

"Of course." Koizumi was probably smiling like a cat right now. "I was just kidding."

Is it just me, or are you doing a lot of that lately?

"Really? I never noticed." The esper cleared his throat. "In any case, I would recommend solving the puzzle as soon as possible. If it doesn't turn out to be 'Scribe', call us."

"Why don't you just call me when you're done solving that Sudoku?"

A nervous chuckle. "Well, you see, Kyon, aside from the fact that Nagato-san's puzzle solving skills have been eliminated by the other Suzumiya-san, I'm an idiot when it comes to Sudoku."

You know, that would actually explain why Nagato insisted on solving it instead of taking the relatively simpler Tower of Hanoi… I would smack you up really good for trying to be heroic when being smart (both ways) counted more, you jackass!

"Allow me to express my humble apologies."

"Yeah, yeah. Anything else that I should be aware of?"

"KYON! Hayaku!" Haruhi's voice boomed from downstairs. Aside from the usual explosive volume in her words, there was a very, very evident tone of impatience.

Apparently, it was Nagato's turn to give me an update. "While we made visual contact with Ryoko Asakura as she was leaving this apartment building, she was not detected by my other sensory perceptions. It is possible that she has deployed stealth factors to conceal her IDE signature."

That one got me started on worrying. Stealth factors, huh? Kind of like the first time I went back to December 18th of last year… that time I got stabbed… not exactly the most pleasant of experiences. Ironically enough, we were the ones using that back then. As a first hand user of a data interface's patented Stealth Barrier, I have to say, that thing made me feel like a Yautja out on a hunt for more spines to add to his trophy collection. Not even Nagato's most advanced sensors picked us up until it was too late. And when a high-performance interface is incapable of detecting something shielded by that, then you just know it works. And yet they saw her, meaning the shielding was only partial… But of course. If you're going out on a date with somebody, then you have to show up, right?

"Be careful. I have identified multiple anomalies in this situation on several levels. Probability of some form of underhanded maneuver by our adversaries is very high."

"I'll take your word for it." Not even a goodbye as the next thing I heard was the call end tone. This brigade seriously needs to work on its telecom courtesy. None of them seem to have the concept of greetings.

"Dammit, Kyon! What's taking you!?"

That seemed a lot closer than the last one… The point of this thought was punctuated when Haruhi's boot hit my door with enough force to blow it open. I swear… if I find out the hinges are looser after this, somebody's going to get her ass whupped, even if she is God's own evil twin sister! I came face to face with one of that girl's signature scowls, golden eyes boring holes in me with some kind of laser that makes the Mikuru Beam look like the product of a light and sound toy gun in comparison. A few seconds later, though, these same eyes widened to something more of shock and the face where their sockets lay turned beet red.

Did I mention that I was still in my boxers when the call came and interrupted my changing?

And as quickly as she broke the door open, Haruhi slammed it shut, following that up with some silly admonition. "Next time, tell me if you're already done before opening it!"

Excuse me? You're the one who hit it with your battering ram of a shoe without warning! It's completely your fault!

"Just hurry up and finish changing."

Much obliged, Your Excellency. Just let me slip on this very nice business suit, that crazy headgear, dump the Rubik's Cube into my pocket, and we're all set to cosplay a rich couple! Wait a second… Asakura and Taniguchi are eating at a high-class restaurant. We're cosplaying a rich couple, which means we'll also be spending money at that high-class restaurant, if just to put up face. As I'm the one in the rich-or-well-to-do middle-aged man disguise, it should be safe to assume that it's going to be my responsibility to pay… actually, I don't even have to assume. I know that it's going to be money squirming out of my wallet yet again. That girl never seems to be willing to give any slack to my poor allowance. I can't even save up for something as trivial as a better phone. But honestly, who bothers with better phones anyway? As long as you can call or text message somebody with it, any model will do for me.

I let out a sigh of reluctant acceptance of this fate of mine. Why did they have to be so cruel? Chances are, I'll spend so much tonight that I end up without any money for the rest of the week! Nevertheless, once an opportunity presents itself, I'll surely try something to get my hands on some sort money scheme that actually works. Pyramiding came to mind at first, but I shirked it off just as quickly. Everybody was wise to that one already.

I straightened my snow coat as I opened the door – the hinges were in fact, pretty loose, with very special thanks to Haruhi – and managed a frown as I looked at the perpetrator of this whole mess. "How do I look?"

Haruhi turned her attention to me and pursed her lips as if thinking about what was wrong. "BakaThe wig's tilted at a wrong angle." After fixing that, she grabbed my gloved hand and began to drag me, as per her SOP whenever dealing with whoever. Down the stairs, across the living room, out the door, and into the several-inch-deep snow. Well, at least Zeus had stopped scratching his head…

That high-class restaurant turned out to be just that: fancy, and to top it off, French. Les Petit Château de Versailles looked, and even emanated some kind of weird aura that declared its sovereign right to be in the same neighborhood as the Tsuruya Family's mega-mansion. Living up to its name, the restaurant looked like a scaled-down copy of its namesake on the outside, complete with a miniature Grand Canal. Of course, Haruhi paid no heed to all this grandiose (albeit snow-covered) scenery and continued to drag me through the snow, into the lobby. The only time she actually let me stand on my own two feet was when we switched from our boots into more formal shoes, and then shortly after, when we stopped at a counter, behind which stood somebody who I assumed to be the maître d'.

"Reservation?"

"Smith, John and Jane."

So now you're using that alias too, eh? Tanabata was that influential, I suppose.

"What are you talking about?" she mumbled in return. "I got it from that Brad Pitt movie!"

Oh, sure, say what you want. It's not the first time you tried to cover up something inspired by that harebrained night three and a half years ago. I'll just keep my mouth shut and smugly smirk at myself for knowing one of your deepest, darkest secrets. The maître d' raised his eyebrow as he examined the two of us. He must have been thinking the same thing I was: John Smith was suffering from a midlife crisis and was trying to get over it by dressing up as a hippie… or, the simpler explanation, that is, John Smith was a hippie.

The next thing he did was nod and smile, probably at how stupid I looked, and said, with a phony French accent, might I add, "Ah, yes! Madame Smith! So good to finally meet you! At your request, a table has been reserved for you and Monsieur Smith right next to where Mademoiselle Asakura and her companion will be sitting." His eyes shifted from side to side as he leaned over the counter to whisper, "Pardon my being nosy, Madame, but is there any particular reason why you made such a request?"

Oh, great… a nosy restaurateur. Just what we need…

"John-kun and I are close friends with Ryoko-chan's parents, and the two asked us to keep an eye on her date." Haruhi winked, maybe nudged, if she could. How I envy her ability to make up such convincing bullshit out of nowhere.

She stepped on my foot as if to force me into saying something. All I could do was conceal a pained grunt by clearing my throat as I nodded frantically. "That's right…" Dammit, Haruhi, why do you have to wear high heels anyway? I know you feel like we have to dress for the occasion, but must you be so consistent down to the last detail? My pain receptors have been amplified by the cold, just so you know!

"Ah, I see." The scene quickly devolved into something reminiscent of two girls telling secrets to each other at a sleepover (minus the constant annoying giggling) as the maître d' winked back with a knowing smile and pointed at the table reserved for the two of us. With a nod betraying some bit of appreciation, Haruhi pranced over to the table and sat down.

"Window-side, eh? Looks good."

"But of course, Monsieur Smith," the man said, still with that annoying pseudo-French accent of his. "Your wife has an excellent taste in choosing a perfect spot for a romantic atmosphere, no?"

"If you ask me, she's overdoing it." I mean, come on! The main reason we're here is to keep an eye on Asakura, that is, waste our time trying to see how many times she slips, and then try to make sense out of what I believe will be completely incoherent and pointless babblings of her information-based subconscious.

"Oh? Perhaps keeping an eye on your friend's daughter is not her only want for the night, would you not think so?" More nudging and winking on the maître d''s part, as if he were insinuating that Haruhi, I'm sorry, Jane Smith, wanted to spend some quality romantic time with me. Yeah right. He straightened his coat. "Let me ask you something, Monsieur."

"Shoot."

"Do you keep your wife happy?"

Well, if I had to answer you in all honesty, I'd have to say that she's not even my wife to begin with. However, if you get rid of that context, you can say that I'm making every effort to ensure that she doesn't get bored to the point of playing sandcastle and starting over with this world of ours. So yeah, that means, in a sense, I do keep her happy.

"Ah, I see." How many times have I heard somebody say that, and not at all telling me what he has just seen? His leading stare had me glancing in the same direction he was, right over to that reserved table, where Haruhi was now sitting, a visible scowl on her face.

I have to admit though, the ponytail, despite being synthetic, more than makes up for her gloomy mood. "I guess I should head over to the missus then. If what you're telling me is correct, that is."

"Trust me, Monsieur Smith. I am a Frenchman. And when it comes to the topic of romance, particularly how a woman is feeling, nobody is better at that than a Frenchman." Another nudge and wink. This is starting to get annoying.

"I'll take your word for it." You have no idea how much of a lie that last statement was. Besides, you're not even a real Frenchman. That mustache of yours is totally fake. Managing a smirk in return, though I have no idea how he took that, I made my way over to our table, where Haruhi was examining the menu with what looked like a complete lack of interest. "Anything that looks good?"

"Bourgogne Escargots."

Isn't that French for uh… snails, and… um… that first word, I have no idea what it is.

"They're Escargots baked in a style unique to Burgundy," she said matter-of-factly. I can tell now, that what I first took to be a look of lack of interest was actually something I had begun to consider as Haruhi's way of focusing. Don't ask me how, but the general idea would be, once she focuses on something, everything else becomes inconsequential. Or something like that. "5000 Yen."

Right then, let me check my wallet and see just how much money I have. I timidly stole a peek into said wallet. Ten K's, huh? Does this restaurant have combo meals that have drinks included or something? I really can't afford a lot.

"Didn't you think of that earlier?" Haruhi snapped the menu shut. "We're supposed to be a rich or at least well-to-do couple. That means we need to look the part, including the food."

I sighed again and looked for some kind of cheap appetizer on the menu. Chances are, I'll be hungry when I get home. "I guess I'll just have one of these Blueberry Crepes then." 2000 Yen… Combined with the cheap table wine… yes, we're taking wine too, since we're supposed to be adults… that leaves me with… 1K for the rest of the week. How am I going to survive with such a measly sum?

"Don't you have savings or something?"

You're the one who has me spend my savings all the time, my dear Mrs. Smith. I'm betting Brad Pitt's character never had to put up with this kind of torture. The house looked pretty fine, after all… at least before they almost brought it down while trying to kill each other. "Spent it all."

"You should learn to save up for a rainy day, you know that?"

Maybe if you would stop having me spend it all by treating everybody, then just maybe I'd be able to save up enough for a new phone.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The conversation degraded into pure silence reminiscent of that first time I talked to Haruhi, and stayed that way until our orders were served. I could feel the gut-wrenching sensation of my wallet bursting open with all that money being vacuumed out of it by an evil phony Frenchman as each platter and a bottle of that cheap red wine - Haruhi insisted on it because of its antioxidant value – thumped onto the table. A few moments later, the man of the hour finally arrived, with his date in hand.

If I hadn't seen the two flirting earlier this lunch hour, my jaw would've dropped in a manner worse than it did this morning when I trudged my way uphill through the snow. Elbows locked, and with Taniguchi being the sly dog who tries to act like a gentleman, he pulled out a seat for Asakura, allowing her to sit down before doing so himself. I never thought he could put up such a face. He certainly shines when he's up to it.

I glanced for a moment at the counter. As if he were expecting me to do just that, the maître d' gave me a thumbs-up, as well as another wink. Stop it already. You're starting to look like somebody I know who's just as annoying. When I turned to face Haruhi, her head was now buried between some sheets of newspaper that just seemingly magically appeared. And just where were you keeping those? She didn't say anything, only pointed her thumb at the rack behind her chair, where more copies were stacked.

Honestly, stop acting like a Cold War spy. You're not wearing a trench coat, sunglasses and fedora, you're not sitting on a wooden bench in some park, and you're definitely not waiting for a fellow agent to make a dead drop in the wastebasket right next to the bench that you're not sitting in. Haruhi remained silent as she lowered the paper to reveal her face, and put a finger to her lips, cocking her head in the direction of where the two were now casually chatting about pointless things. Fine. I'll concentrate too… after I eat this crepe that I spent a fifth of my weekly allowance to pay for.

In the end, the two of us never touched the red wine, as Haruhi instead ordered a pitcher of drinking water. Furthermore, she didn't even offer me a single one of her snails. Not that I mind. The idea of spearing the soft mollusk with a fork while in its shell is synonymous to more effort, which I've spent enough of for today. Still, I had to hand it to Haruhi. She could suck the things straight out without making a single noise. How do you do that?

I resigned myself to trying to solve that Rubik's Cube while paying a little attention to Taniguchi and Asakura's small talk every now and then, since our fearless leader was busy pretending to read the paper, therefore, keeping me safe from her prying eyes. The conversation was mostly about school, and what's more, Taniguchi was doing most of the talking, with Asakura saying things like "I see", "Oh yes", "Of course", "Ah", and any other derivatives of the earlier phrases.

I heard Haruhi's newspaper crumple with her suddenly tightening grasp as Taniguchi finally said, "So tell me… what's with you and Canada?"

Now according to Haruhi Theory No. 1109, yes, that number is arbitrary, once a person warms up to another in small talk over dinner, that person becomes more susceptible to making Freudian slips. Now is the time to put that theory to the test!

"Well, as Okabe-sensei announced the day I left, my father had received a job transfer."

Clearly not a slip. She's just sticking to the story that Nagato had fabricated for her.

"But if you really want to know the details, well…" She looked up as she touched her chin with a finger in thought. In fairness, she looks kinda cute that way, unless you know that she's a psychotic knife maniac who kills people for her own personal advancement in the race to obtain data. Her eyes then slid over in our direction, as if suspecting something. In particular, they landed on the plastic puzzle I was holding in my hands. Then she smiled. Oh shit…

"Yeah…?" Thank God for Taniguchi's horrible timing to say something! Her attention immediately returned to her date, sparing me from a fate involving multiple stab wounds to the head!

"Oh, yes. You see, my father works as a Senior General Manager of this company. He delves into highly sensitive projects that require his immediate presence. Soon after the school year began, the company moved the project over to its Canadian branch, and with it, my father."

Now where the hell did you get such a story? So much ambiguity and provocative terminology… 'sensitive projects'? That's just the kind of thing that would have Haruhi going gaga and yelling out multiple conspiracy theories! Wait a minute… might that be exactly what you want? Excite Haruhi? I mean, she obviously knows that it's the two of us here and now, in disguise and listening in on their conversation. Could it be that she's seeding false information to provoke Haruhi into doing something rash?

"As he was so considerate, Father allowed me to move back here on my own after I told him about how much I missed you guys." She winked at Taniguchi, who only grinned in response. Dammit… is winking becoming as contagious as yawning these days? "Besides, his project will be completed in a few weeks, so I won't be alone at home for long."

That was more or less the last thing that they spoke of with any relation to what we were looking for. After that, the conversation shifted back to trivial and pointless things, with some eating on the side. Finally, after two or so hours of sitting at the table, Taniguchi called for the bill and, once it came, immediately shoved a fistful of cash into the waiter's hands. Now where did he get all that money?

Haruhi allowed them to finish up and pass by before she called for our own bill. Feeling that crushing feeling of losing so much money in one night return, I reluctantly surrendered the precious scraps of paper to the waiter, who merely asked us if we had a good time before leaving with a smile on his face.

"Looks like we got more than we were expecting," Haruhi said to me, a wide grin now plastered onto her face. "But I get the feeling that there's more!" She quickly grabbed my hand and dragged me out of my seat as I barely managed to put the Rubik's Cube, now with two sides left to solve, into my pocket. "Let's tail them home!"

We stopped for a moment at the counter, where the maître d' seemed to have an odd look on his face. I would call it one of disappointment, but it just doesn't look like it… maybe close, but maybe not. "When I asked Mademoiselle Asakura, she told me she sends you her parents' regards. Though I doubt she was aware that you were spying on her. You did such a good job of maintaining a veil of inconspicuousness after all!"

Great… now even complete strangers are kissing Haruhi's ass. Who's next? The Prime Minister? The Pope even? Her face lit up for a moment. "Did you say she sends us her parents' regards?"

"Oui."

She stopped herself before she could open her mouth to say something like "WTF". I can totally understand how you feel. You made up the story on the spot, and yet somehow Asakura caught wind of it and decided to play along. Furthermore, you didn't tell her anything that has to do with your made-up story.

"Well then, we should get going! Ja!" I didn't even have the time to fasten my seatbelt before the Haruhicoaster started up again and dragged me off towards the shoe racks, but not before I managed to see that damn phony Frenchman winking at me. I swear… this is the last time I eat here wearing this stupid disguise!

As it turns out, Taniguchi and Asakura were now taking a walk and, judging by the path they were taking, I would have to say that, most predictably, they were headed for the park. Is it just me, or is there some kind of conspiracy revolving around the places in town? The train station serves as the SOS Brigade's primary meeting and departure point outside school. WcDonald's serves as the place that greedily devours my precious allowance every time I treat the club there. Nagato's apartment is where we split up whenever walking home, as well as the place I go to whenever I need some serious backup. And the park? Well, the park is probably one of the most important of these, since a lot of crap happened there. Asahina-san's revelation and my arrival point on Tanabata three and a half years ago are just two of the mentionables. Chances are, once they get tired of walking around the snow-covered park, they'll sit down on that magical mystery bench that I so often found myself every now and then.

In a logical sense, it wasn't that bad of a choice either. Nagato's, and consequently Asakura's, apartment wasn't too far from the park, and it would be the perfect place to end a date before walking said date home. I wonder if Kimidori-san lives in that apartment too…

Haruhi slowed down and grabbed my hand. For the most part, I was being dragged around by the collar… I wonder if that crazy fake Frenchie thinks she's the dominant one of our so-called 'couple'… Gah! Bad thoughts! Away with you!

"Make like a partner and stick to me." She said with her usual demanding tone, despite being hushed.

"I beg your pardon?"

Instead of repeating her obnoxious order, she instead wrapped her arm around mine and lay her head on my shoulder as we slowly followed those two down the snow-laden pathway. The river was in fact, not completely frozen tonight, and if you looked closely enough, you could actually see moving water. The overall ambience of the scene dictated a silent and holy night, as the Christians would put it. Considering, of course, that we probably celebrated Christmas for the presents and our own localized traditions, then there wasn't much to say. In the distance, I thought I heard bells jingling in a pristine manner, as if emphasizing the 'silent' in that phrase.

Maybe I was starting to become paranoid or something, but as I looked across the river to avoid Haruhi's heavily leaning head, I could have sworn I saw a familiar shadow… just beyond the halo of the dim, flickering streetlight. It was dressed in North High's winter uniform, sporting a cardigan over the usual sailor uniform. Long dark hair went down to its back, the silhouette of a ribbon clearly visible atop its head. The only distinguishable feature on its face, which was mostly shrouded, concealed behind the illumination of the lamp, was a rather indiscernible smile. Evil intent? Slight amusement? Plain joy? I wouldn't really know. Not that I'd actually get the chance to ask it… or her… because the moment I blinked, this familiar shadow was gone.

"Focus," Haruhi nudged me as she said this quietly but sternly. "I can't listen to everything they say alone."

Those two were still talking about whatever meaningless things came to mind. If I were Taniguchi, I'd be really bored by now. Of course, talking to a pretty girl that you considered to be the top of your pretty girl list while being totally ignorant of her true nature was certainly much more entertaining than being dragged around by a pretty girl who treated you like luggage. Still, both yielded high risks, particularly if Pretty Girl A decided that killing you would bring about a high-level data spike, or if Pretty Girl B got bored of you and the whole universe in general and decided to make a new one from scratch. If I had to choose, though, I'd keep my lot with Pretty Girl B, since at least she has no intention of killing me… though the same might not exactly apply to Pretty Girl B's twin sister, who wants to make all worlds anew from scratch, and for reasons unknown.

Whatever Haruhi was waiting for them to talk about, be it the nature of Asakura's fictional father's 'sensitive project', or the name of the company he worked with, or perhaps if it had anything to do with any kind of existing conspiracy theory, was never discussed. Asakura was probably teasing us by keeping the conversation to the mundane. This was most certainly a move to provoke Haruhi into creating another major data spike or whatever the hell those things are called. Action and reation.

Eventually, that couple, which by now looked so sweet I felt like I was getting cavities just by watching them, stopped and sat down, of all places, at that bench. Not that Haruhi would know the importance of that bench, anyway. Still, with her head on my shoulder like that, I wouldn't know what the expression on her face was when she saw them choose that specific spot to sit down. Knowing Haruhi, she would probably think that any bench would do even if I did tell her what was so important about this one.

Without warning, the Chief of the SOS Brigade yanked me into the bushes. I heard an audible thud in the snow, and it didn't register that it was my body hitting the ground until I realized I was staring up into the black night sky. Usually, it would be clearer on winter nights, but tonight was just… different. It had more darkness in it, if you would.

We stayed crouched in the bushes behind that bench, Haruhi and I, for what seemed like an eternity, listening to even more senseless small talk and chitchat. A quick check on my watch told me it had only been twenty minutes. Right on that particular mark, Taniguchi yawned while stretching his arms, and then casually placed his right arm on the backrest behind the class monitor. He'd probably watched that scene of Hellboy a dozen times to be able to execute it so perfectly… or maybe he'd been practicing it since middle school? I wouldn't care, really. Either way, it played just like any sneaky tactic that worked. Soon enough, his hand was on her shoulder, and she was reclining onto his shoulder in a way that wasn't at all too different from how Haruhi was positioned earlier. Such boldness on a first date! How do you manage that, you loser!?

Ah, but then the fact hit me. Taniguchi couldn't have wooed Asakura into going out with him that easily, realistically speaking. She was just playing along, apparently. The next thing you know, the two will be sharing a passionate kiss and start making out on that cold, frostbitten bench… what the hell am I thinking!? My left cheek began to burn as Haruhi's gloved hand made contact. "What was that for!?"

Now physics says that the cold, for one reason or another that I wouldn't really understand since I totally suck at physics, amplifies sound. That would include the sound of the slap, as well as my yelling in reaction. I heard some commotion from the bench as Taniguchi stood up to look behind the bushes. Oh, shit. They're gonna find us!

The next thing I knew, I was lying face-up in the snow with my sunglasses slightly out of place and Haruhi sitting on top of me. "Follow my lead," she whispered, before doing what I considered unthinkable…

She kissed me.

Interpret this in whatever way you want. Myself, I'm perfectly sure that there was absolutely nothing personal about it. Whenever I look back at this incident, I realize that she was doing it to protect our cover, and that is, by making the perfect excuse. Why else would a couple be hiding behind the bushes on a cold winter night, after all? To make out, right? Still, that doesn't excuse the fact that only a mentally unstable couple would make out in the snow, of all places.

Using my peripheral vision to look past the obstruction that was Haruhi's face and wig, and against the tongue that began probing my mouth – isn't that being a little too realistic? – I saw Taniguchi look at us in shock, and then reel in disgust. I heard some frantic movement, with the two familiar voices, then a murmuring of an apology on intruding on our privacy (talk about ironic), before the owners of said voices stood up and left the immediate area, leaving the two of us alone… in a very suggestive position… in the dead white snow.

As Taniguchi and Asakura stepped out of hearing range, Haruhi finally pulled out, gasping for breath. Her face, pale from the cold, was sporting a nice red tone. I wouldn't mind seeing it again anytime soon.

"That was some really quick thinking," I said, sitting up and dusting myself.

"What're you talking about?" she answered, "I wasn't thinking at all…" Haruhi looked down to one side, her lips pursed into that duckbill shape as her eyebrows furrowed. She was deep in thought. About just what, I haven't got a clue. She straightened up when she noticed I was staring, and without saying anything else, resumed her use of the ultimate method of persuasion: dragging me off in her general direction.

Apparently, those two were now at the end of their rope, as they were hurrying through the snow and straight at the high-class apartment that now loomed just over the horizon. Haruhi didn't relent, and put an extra burst in her step. If it weren't for the fact that the snow, as well as my dead weight, were slowing her down, she would've overtaken them by now. We finally stopped just across the street from the building, in time to see Asakura waving her goodbye's to Taniguchi, who had a slump that said his perfect night was ruined. Oh well. I hope he feels better by tomorrow. Chances are, though, he was probably planning to bag her right there. Whatever.

Haruhi sighed in defeat as she went into her own slump… and then she almost immediately recovered. "You did a good job tonight, Kyon," was all she said before grabbing the glasses, mustache, and wig, leaving me alone to stare at Asakura, who was still waving. Is it just me, or is she taking too long to finish that silly movement? Maybe she's just not that familiar with human culture or something.

Giving my stiffening joints a good rub, I prepared to make my own trip home, when a chill ran up my spine. I hate it when that sort of thing happens. I looked to the sides and behind me. Where did Asakura go? She was no longer at the apartment gate… Now usually, in movies depicting this kind of situation, whenever the person in question thinks that he was just imagining things and returns to face the direction that he was originally going, he would be treated with the very nasty surprise of something evil standing in his path.

"Cut to the chase," I told the empty darkness. "You're behind me, right?"

"You are correct, Kyon-kun," was the cheery reply. "Now you understand, of course, that I knew from the very beginning that you and Suzumiya-san were spying on us."

"You kinda gave away that fact when you sent us your parents' regards." I slowly turned around to confirm the fact that she was indeed standing in my path home. What's more, she was holding a very familiar article in her right hand. "And I see you still haven't gotten tired of knives…"

"My research into human behavior has provided me with sufficient evidence that a knife, particularly a military issue combat knife, is a most effective device when it comes to altering one's actions to fit my designs." This was said in that usual polite and friendly tone that is so full of disregard for the case at hand that it was just creepy.

"So what do you want?" My gaze longingly fell onto the now friendly-looking buzzer with Nagato's name on it. Damn those data stealth factors!

"Did you not receive the note? I want you to surrender 'Scribe' to me." She began to toy around with that knife in a rather nerve-wracking way. Clearly, she was itching to stab something, namely me.

"Yeah. But why do you want it?"

She did that cute touching her chin while looking up to think pose, as if she were actually considering something. "While it is a compromise of my security protocols to reveal my reasons for my desire to acquire 'Scribe', I suppose it would be logical to tell you. After all, you will soon die, and this time, I made sure that Nagato-san will not be able to detect my presence. Very well then, I shall tell you. 'Scribe', which I have now confirmed with my program detection abilities to be that Rubik's Cube in your pocket, is a three-dimensional coordinate plane algorithm."

Ah what?

"A map."

You could have just told me that earlier instead of just wasting fourteen syllables' worth of speech. "A map, huh?"

"Yes. It is essential in locating the true target of my new employer, who you might know as Haruhi Suzumiya's 783th Temporal Variant."

So my guess was right. It was the other Haruhi who was behind Asakura's mysterious return. Makes complete sense, since the Integrated Data Entity has been isolated from its interfaces. Hell, the other Haruhi probably locked it out of the Space-Time Continuum just to be sure.

"The program 'Saber', subconsciously created by Haruhi Suzumiya three and a half years ago, is what prevents my new employer from accomplishing her goal. It acts as a defensive system, rendering her incapable of even remotely touching Haruhi Suzumiya's being in order to remove her data manipulation and creation abilities. Unfortunately, 'Saber's' location is concealed by stealth factors beyond any scale I have yet witnessed, and cannot be affected by my new master's data manipulation and creation abilities, preventing her from simply willing it to appear in her presence. Moreover, 'Saber' is constantly relocating to random points of the city at instantaneous rates, making finding it an extremely difficult, if not impossible task, even for one such as myself."

So basically, you need 'Scribe' to track down 'Saber', and find it so that you can remove Haruhi's powers and then do whatever the hell you want with the world and the infinite other ones, am I right?

"Precisely." She stretched out her left hand and opened her palm. "Now, I will not say this again. Surrender 'Scribe' to me, and I will, in return, give you a swift and painless death."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you are merely delaying the inevitable, as well as removing the factor of free will from the equation. Haruhi Suzumiya's 738th Temporal Variant has tasked me to acquire 'Scribe' from you willingly, if possible. She will be truly disappointed if you refuse, but then I will not have had a choice now, will I?"

Free will? Choice? In this situation? Don't make me laugh. You're only giving me a Hobson's Choice, since the outcome is the same no matter which one I pick. If I give this stupid puzzle to you, you kill me. If you kill me, then you get the stupid puzzle. So if I had to choose, I'd rather not play a conscious part in the end of the world and not surrender 'Scribe' to you. Thank you very much.

"Is that your final answer?"

What is this, Who Wants to be a Millionaire? "Yeah, that's my final answer." Are you going to write a check for 250K just in case I've run out of lifelines now?

"Unfortunately," she entered a pouncing stance, "You never had any lifelines to begin with." With that she dashed at me in a way that triggered déjà vu, except that she was currently wearing a royal blue snow coat and Ushanka. What is it with people and Russian fur caps anyway? Resigning myself to death isn't really something I do, but right now, there doesn't seem to be any other option. As I braced for the end, I heard the familiar crackle of a repulsion field, and found Asakura's knife stuck in the thick of it. "How the…"

"Nagato-san had detected Kyon's presence just outside the apartment building several minutes ago," a familiar voice said from behind me. "However, the fact that he never buzzed her, as he usually does, raised our suspicions." Koizumi stepped out of the shadows and stood right next to me, that usual pseudo-smile of his a sight for sore eyes. "She also sensed Taniguchi, and considered the time of day. It would make sense that he was dropping off his date at the apartment, right?"

"Consolidating all factors and variables in the equation, the only conclusion is that Ryoko Asakura has returned from her date, and was being tailed by Kyon as per his agreement with Haruhi Suzumiya earlier today." That barely audible, deadpan voice belonged to none other than Yuki Nagato, my ever-reliable savior. She suddenly appeared in front of me, just behind the still-crackling barrier. "The only viable reason for Kyon to still linger about after Taniguchi's departure from the premises would be that something was stalling him."

"So we decided to take a look, and saw you two talking about… whatever," the esper shrugged, "So we went to work at once."

"I see…" Asakura cheerfully nodded in response. "I now realize how inept my preparations were." Despite saying something that seemed bad for her, the look on her face remained quite… happy.

Maybe that was her permanent expression then. Is there a button somewhere on you that switches you to gloomy mode?

"Regardless, my previous incompetence means nothing." the knife fetishist cocked her head to the left as if contemplating what to do next. "You see, when Haruhi Suzumiya's 738th Temporal Variant reconstructed me, she gave me access to multiple libraries that not even the Integrated Data Entity has access to, resulting in dramatically enhanced combat performance. Even though Nagato-san's access to her combat libraries was not tampered with, as my new master regarded it unnecessary, and even if Koizumi-kun could use his powers outside Closed Space, I maintain a 99.9934162705 percent probability of completely annihilating you."

I looked at Nagato, seeking some form of comfort from this disturbing claim.

"Ryoko Asakura is not attempting any form of deception. Her projected figures on the probability of our termination match exactly with my calculations."

You're telling me that you knew that she could obliterate us that easily and yet you still decided to come down here and fight? Wow, Nagato. You've certainly changed from the time I first met you. Now you're fighting for me even though you know we're as good as screwed! It is an honor to die by your side, Great Goddess Nagato!

"While a 0.0065837295 percent probability of winning is a relatively insignificant value, it is still a greater-than-zero value."

"Ah, yes," Koizumi nodded to himself, "Murphy's Law. As long as the probability of something going wrong, in this case, Asakura-san failing in her move to eliminate us, remains above zero, then it will go wrong."

That might be comforting when you're reading it from a distanced perspective, but that's really not doing me any good right now! Sure, odds with over ten place values vs. one have always been beaten by the heroes of anime and manga, but they're anime and manga, for godsake! This is the real world we're living in! And even though the real world is crazier than any manga I've ever read, real world statistics still apply! We're as good as dead! This whole frantic monologue of mine concerning life and death, though, was interrupted by a very familiar voice…

"Hey, Kyon, I almost forgot to tell you that you have to return that suit I borrowed from-" My blood ran cold when I realized who the owner of the voice was. "What's going on here?"

Haruhi had decided to come back to pitch one of her famous follow-up lines… what's worse, was that it was at such an inconvenient time. With the sight of Nagato standing in front of Koizumi and me to act as a shield from Asakura, who was just about to jump us with her combat knife, who knows what that girl was going to think?

Asakura was the first to talk. While apparently surprised, she still had the guts to look like everything was under control. "Ah, Suzumiya-san! I was just about to demonstrate my proficiency with knives to your friends over here!" She began to toy with the knife in an almost professional manner, balancing the tip on her fingernail, or flailing it around in controlled, calculated swipes, hell, tossing it around without worry of being hurt. Like someone of her kind could possibly get hurt by a silly knife. If Nagato can survive multiple impalements without even flinching, then Asakura can surely take a knife to the heart, right?

"Where'd you pick up that skill?" Haruhi raised her eyebrow, obviously suspicious. "Canada?"

The knife fetishist scratched the back of her head with her free hand and nodded with a nervous laugh as if an embarrassing secret of hers had been revealed. "That's right. Canada."

"I'm curious…" without so much as a warning of any kind, our Brigade Commander, moved, with the speed she was well known for, and pinned Asakura, who I bet was now playing helpless, to a wall. The knife fell to the snow as her lips met the class monitor's ear. "What else did you learn in Canada?"

"I could show you later, Suzumiya-san," Asakura tried to push Haruhi off, to no avail, as dictated by her damsel in distress setting, "But I don't think now's the right time… it's 10PM, and a school night, no less."

You don't seem to be familiar with Haruhi's logic, do you? If Haruhi says the time is right, then the time is right. For the first time, I actually found myself pitying this crazy murderous girl. Still, Asakura had a point, and like it or not, I was myself beginning to tire out. I placed a hand firmly on Haruhi's shoulder, which stiffened on contact. "We could just ask her to show us some new tricks tomorrow, like at lunch time or something. We all seriously need to get some rest."

I felt Haruhi relax as she lowered her head. "Fine. Tomorrow. Besides, my parents have started texting me."

Ah, I see. My parents would do that too, if it weren't for the fact that my dad was away on a business trip and my mom was probably trying to solve that jigsaw with my little sister. I found a big smile on Haruhi's face as she turned to me. She didn't even wave goodbye to everybody else as she grabbed my wrist and dragged me off. I'd better keep my guard up for now. Since I've already been openly confronted by Asakura, that means she'll be taking a more active role.

And, thanks to the unwitting Haruhi, we now have a clear idea of what 'Scribe' does, not to mention a perfect saved-by-the-bell scenario. I guess bad guys the monologues of bad guys right before a Deus Ex Machina comes to save the hero on the verge of death are a lot more useful than I once thought! All I have to do is solve it, make sure it doesn't fall into Asakura's hands, and find 'Saber' to make sure that it's properly protected.

In the meantime, though, I should just enjoy this new, if short, lease on life, and stare up at the night sky, which, for some reason or another, has become crystal clear.

"No time to loiter about and stare, Kyon!" Haruhi suddenly said, "I have to be home before eleven, and that means I have to drop you off at your place as soon as possible!"

Sure, Boss. Have it your way… I guess stargazing will have to wait, at least until I get out of this ridiculous suit.

TBC…

AN: A little bit of implied Harukyon here… a lot more than I'd like, actually, as I definitively suck at writing romances, and have no intention of turning this into one. I apologize for any OOCness that I never noticed… Concerning the weird symbols on Brezhnev's note, I'll give you ten Bunling Points if you figured out that they were a nod to the time travelers' Mission Code from V7. Everything seems to start making sense now, right? Now all they have to do is actually find 'Saber', and the problems will be solved! Wee! You can tell that I'm being sarcastic, right?

Don't forget to feed me your reviews! The monster is hungry for feedback yet again! But before that…

Brezhnev examined the Rubik's Cube for a few moments before handing it back to me. "You've made good progress, Comrade Ivan. Soon, we can fix this trouble we're having with timelines, and you can go back to your normal, usual, boring, everyday life!" He laughed in that obnoxious stereotypical Russian way.

Honestly, even if this guy really was on our side, I wouldn't like him to. He's more annoying than Koizumi, and is probably the only person I know who calls me a Comrade. On top of that, if he thinks I won't be able to understand something, he calls me by some Russian label that probably insults my intelligence! If you say that I'm a… whatever that is… one more time, I'm going to introduce you to the business end of my dad's Nine Iron!

"Please, be my guest, Comrade Ivan! Though before you do, I would like to give you some excellent news!"

I wonder what the stereotypical Soviet Russian considers to be 'excellent news'.

"I have spoken to the higher-ups, and they have all agreed that it is now safe to pull Comrade Mikuru Asahina out of Lockdown Zone!"