A/N: I wrote filler! Normally I can't write filler, but I wrote filler! Well, this is the last break you'll ever be getting (probably not, I can write dark stuff without including a bit of mind-numbing fluff).

Disclaimer: I don't own Madoka Magica. If I did own Madoka Magica, there would be (at least) one kiss scene in Rebellion.

Warnings: Filler

Pairings: XD

Homura was guided through the maze of surgically clean hallways at a slightly alarming pace, and she herself was working at dangerous speeds, in her mind at least.

"What a way to start my life of incarceration," she thought bitterly, "A suicide on the first day. Somehow I don't think this'll be an enjoyable stay."

She was gently nudged through a green door by Madoka, and into a room full of people who (Homura guessed) were other inmates. Some of them looked pretty… strange, and it was a little disturbing to think that she was supposed to be one of those vegetables.

"Come on Homura, not much further." Homura nodded, and noted that none of the other inmates were wearing strait jackets.

"I guess none of them have ever killed anyone," Homura thought sourly, and then she blinked. Why was she feeling bitter because they had never killed anyone? That wasn't a healthy way to think. She mentally scolded herself for it, and then refocussed her attention on her destination.

They had reached a little room with a sign above the door that read "Outfitting."

"Outfitting? Am I finally getting this cursed jacket off?"

Madoka stepped around her, and pulled out an identity card. A quick swipe later, and the door clicked open. She held the door open for Homura, who shuffled awkwardly forwards.

Madoka came in behind her, pulling the door shut.

"Okay Hmoura-chan, I think it's about time that we found you some more comfortable clothing."

Homura nodded.

"If you'll just go and sit down, I'll be right back."

Homura nodde again, and sat down on one of the plastic chairs. She looked around the room. It was pretty much the same s every other room she'd seen so far in the building. Surgically clean, disturbingly pae turquoise colour scheme. Yes, Homura felt that just about summed up her new home, in appearance at least.

Madoka returned, in her hand she was holding two vacuum sealed bags.

"Okay Homura-chan, just follow me through to the changing rooms."

Homura stood, and followed the pinkette through another door, into a long carpeted room lined with dozens of little cubicles.

"Come one Homura-chan," Madoka encourages, opening one of the cubicles and holding the door for her. Homura walked nervously in, and Madoka followed, closing and locking the cubicle behind her. "Okay Homura-chan, I've been pestering the director since you got shipped in to let me get you out of that awful strait jacket, and he finally caved. I've got a couple of sizes of standard clothing here for you. So you try a couple of them on, and tell me which one fits best."

"I… O-Okay."

"Great! But first thing's first, let's get you out of this jacket." Madoka proceeded to loosen some of the straps on Homura's jacket, and bit by bit, the awful thing loosened and eventually slid off.

The bad part about this however, was this left Homura in the rather embarrassing position of wearing nothing but her bra and panties in front of Madoka.

"I guess those'll have to come off too." Madoka gestured to Homura's underclothes.

Homura nodded meekly. "Uhm… do you think you could leave me while I-"

"Oh don't be such a baby Homura-chan. Your arms have been immobile for days, I doubt very much that your dexterity is good enough to do this sort of thing yet."

"I'm sure I can manage."

"Oh really? Show me."

Homura raised her arms hesitantly, and felt more strain than she should have.

"Wow, they are weak."

She fumbled with the clip of her bra, but her fingers weren't strong enough to manage it.

"I rest my case," said Madoka with a triumphant smile.

She stepped over to Homura, and helped her out of her underclothes (much to the ravenette's discomfort) and then she helped her try on several different sizes of clothes. Homura identified the set that fit her best, and Madoka helped her into those.

"There you go Homura-chan, much better." All of the sudden, Madoka wrinkled her nose. "Or maybe not. You stink Homura-chan."

"That's hardly my fault," Homura burst out indignantly.

Madoka laughed at Homura's reaction. "I know Homura-chan. Come on, you need a shower."

Madoka let them both out of the cubicle, and led Homura by the hand to the bathrooms. She undressed Homura, walked ver to the tap, and started the shower.

"Okay Homura-chan, you just stand under the water for a minute."

Homura noded, and stepped underneath the stream of warm water, praying to whatever cosmic deity was watching over her that Madoka had not noticed the blush on her face.

After about a minute, she had forgotten her little problem. The water felt heavenly. Homura had no idea why it was so good; maybe it was because she felt so unclean.

Suddenly, she felt s cold sensation on her back. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

"W-Wha-"

"Calm down Homura-chan, it's just me."

Madoka was naked too, and she was standing behind her holding cake of soap and a washer.

"Madoka!"

"You know, you can't get clean just by standing there under the water."

"Fine, give me the soap."

Madoka held out the small cake of soap, and the ravenette took it while trying to hide as much of herself from the girl as possible.

But she had difficulty holding onto the soap. Her arms must be taking a while to recover from their time in a strait jacket.

"Thought so. Just let me wash you, kay Homura-chan?"

"I-"

"Oh come on Homura, we're all girls here."

"Okay then."

So Homura stood there, and let Madoka sop her up, and then scrub her down, trying to ignore how hot and bothered the whole situation was making her.

"It's like she's doing it on purpose."

Madoka put the soap and washer down, and reached for a bottle of shampoo.

"I'll wash your hair now."

Homura nodded her head, wondering if the blush on her face would ever dissipate.

Madoka squeezed some of the shampoo out onto her palm, and started to massage it into Homura's scalp. She guided Homura back slightly, so that her head was directly in the spray of the shower. She ran her hand through Homura's raven tresses a few times so that she could be sure all of the soap was out of her hair. She repeated the process with the conditioner, and then (not a moment too soon in Homura's opinion) she shut off the shower.

Much to Homura's protest, Madoka insisted on drying her off. And of course, Madoka had to make sure everywhere on her entire body was absolutely dry.

"Geez, either she's being thorough or I should really watch myself around her."

She turned her back when Madoka dried herself and dressed back into her uniform.

"Okay Homura-chan. It's nearly lunch, and you must be starving."

Suddenly, a small nagging feeling that had been nipping at the edge of her consciousness came right to the forefront of her mind.

"Y-yeah."

"I'm not surprised; they haven't given you any real food since you've been here. Well how could they really? You were out most of the time."

Madoka grabbed her hand, and led her through the corridors to the cafeteria.

They waited in line behind the other inmates (Homura noted that most of them had an escort as well) and collected Homura's meal. Madoka carried it over to a table, and set it down, gesturing to Homura to sit down. Homura sat, and immediately tried to pick up a bread roll to eat. She dropped the roll.

"Damn these arms! How long is it going to take for me to be able to hold anything again?"

"Here let me." Madoka reached over and broke the bread roll on Homura's plate. She buttered it, and spread some honey over it. "Here," she said, holding the bread roll out for Homura to eat.

Homura took a bite, and then another, and then another. She finished the bread roll in a matter of seconds.

"You really must be hungry, eh."

Homura nodded, and finished swallowing the bread.

"Okay, how about this." Madoka picked up a spoon and scooped some of the fried rice into it. She held it up, and Homura gladly accepted. Madoka decided it'd be best if she took her time with the rice. She didn't want Homura getting sick after all.

She picked up the bottled water on the tray, and unscrewed the cap. She held it up to Homura's lips, and Homura gladly gulped nearly half the bottle, before returning her eye to the rice.

Madoka helped Homura finish everything on the tray.

"Feeling better Homura-chan?" Madoka asked.

"Heaps."

"Good. Now, I need to talk to you about your treatment Homura-chan."

Homura stiffened.

"Don't be like that. We were going to have to talk about it sooner or later."

Homura nodded, once again silent.

"Okay, so they want to use a medicated treatment program, but I don't think that's the best available course of action here."

Another nod.

"So you agree with me."

"Yes," Homura said meekly.

"Good. So, now that I've got you on board for this, I just need to convince the director to let me use some more basic treatment methods."

"Okay."

"Alright then. I'll just have to return you to your room for now, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay then."

"Hey Homura-chan."

"What is it?"

"Remember I promised to help you okay. I intend to keep that promise. You are my priority now, and I swear I'll do whatever I have to make sure that you get through okay."

The sincerity in her voice was encouraging. And maybe it was just Homura's imagination, but from then on she felt a bit more hopeful.

A/N: There you go, the exact opposite of what you expected from this story. A whole chapter of brainless fluff. Now if this shit ever gets too messed up for you, just skip back to chapter 3!

Also, is Madoka good at her job or what? Seriously, I always imagined Madoka growing up and becoming a psychiatric doctor of some kind (I totally don't have a couple of other stories lined up where she is in that specific career).

Anyway, goodbye filler! R&R as always, and until next time