Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own any characters or concepts related to The Princess and the Frog. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.

I am now, as before, humbled by the response this collection of silly stories has received. Thank you all so very much for your kind words and your suggestions, and for the time out of your day you've given me by reading it. Thank you.

This is set after the film by a few years, at least, possibly longer.

A Need for Temperance

Naveen checked once, then checked again, twisting his fingers through the belt loops and pulling out to no avail.

"F-fffaldi faldonza," he said, hissing through his teeth.

Tiana ran her fingers lightly along his back; she traced the breadth of his shoulders as she came around to the front of him. His shoulder rose beneath her hand, then fell, bowing.

"You having a little trouble?" she said.

He blew his cheeks out; his lips pursed. "It's these trousers," he said. He gestured sharply. "The waistband, it's too tight."

She eyed his waistline and Naveen straightened, cocking his hips and holding his shoulders loose as she looked him over.

"It looks all right to me."

"Allow me to assure you," he said, "it most definitely is not. See? I can't even fit my thumb--"

Tiana slipped her finger beneath his waistband and flexed it once, awkwardly.

"Ti-ana," Naveen said. His voice dropped; it rolled along his tongue.

"It's a little tight," she conceded. She patted his hip, comforting. "But if you ask her nicely, I'm sure Mama would be more than happy to take it out for you." She reached for his tie.

"Your mother is a treasure," he said, lifting his chin. Her fingers fluttered at his throat. "But treating the symptoms does not cure the disease, you know?"

"Mm. You do realize," she said to his jaw, "if you didn't eat so many beignets, you wouldn't be having this problem."

"You!" He shook his finger at her. "You did this to me."

Tiana smoothed his sweater over his shoulders, tugging the wrinkles out at the sleeves. "I told you to ease up on those beignets," she said. She poked his gut, still flat, and he huffed out a small laugh; his arm came up to shield his belly.

"I know, I know," he said, his teeth flashing. "I heard you the first time. And the thirtieth. Perhaps you shouldn't make such delicious beignets. Have you considered that?"

"I can't say as I have," she said, dryly.

"Yes, well," he said. "Deliberate on that for a while. Take as long as you need."

She slid her hand down the long, even slope of his chest. "Looks to me like you've got a choice to make. Your figure--"

She hooked a finger in his sweater and pulled, reeling him in. "--or my beignets," she said. Her breath called up goosepimples on his neck.

He spread his hands. "How can I choose, when I enjoy both?"

"You could always try moderating yourself," Tiana suggested.

"Well, that won't work," he said. "I might as well give up music. Which I will not be doing, by the way."

Tiana's eyes crinkled. She tucked a wild curl behind his ear, then rose up on her toes to hide an unhurried kiss in the corner of his mouth. Naveen turned his head, catching her as she sank down; she smiled into his kiss. His fingers brushed her jaw.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she whispered. She left a kiss on the soft swell of his lower lip, a gentle touch which idled. "I don't really mind what you look like, Mister Frog Prince."

"A small comfort," he said. His hand settled on her hip. "But I'll accept it."

This story was originally posted at livejournal on 12/19/2009.