When I emerged—my damp hair combed, makeup thankfully scrubbed away—I found him seated on the small divan in our family/dining room. He was finishing up a phone call.

His eyes followed my progress even as he continued talking. "And what of a restraining order?...I see….Alright then. And when did her father leave?" He checked his watch and then extended his arm leisurely across the back of the sofa. "Okay…Goodbye."

"Much better," he declared.

"Huh?"

"That horrible makeup did nothing for your appearance. It's nice to see you looking yourself again."

"Uh, thanks, I guess. So is everything all right?" I asked, comfortably taking a seat next to him—it was my sofa after all.

"Yes. It seems everything has settled down for now and the Black Onion force has impressed upon the… ladies," his tone was sour, "the consequences of bothering you ever again. By the way, the Lobelia Headmistress is appalled and begs your forgiveness."

My brows raised in surprise. Rather than chase down what exactly he'd been up to while I was indisposed, I sat back and extended my legs in front of me. Tipping my head back to rest against his arm, I addressed the ceiling. "Why would they do that to me? I mean, why do they do any of what they do? They act like they're all about empowering women and being self-sufficient, but they encourage their fans to act like mindless twits." I heard him chuckle. "And they have their own little… hierarchy, where it's okay for the strong to control people weaker than them."

I turned my head to look at him. "You know what I mean?"

"Actually I do." He smiled at our understanding. "They underestimate strength of character. A woman who knows what she believes and stands by her convictions, who attains her goals on her own merit and by her own efforts…well, she is truly independent." His eyes bored into mine and he leaned slightly toward me. "But she doesn't need to be. It does not make you weak to have people to depend on. It multiplies your strength."

Yes, he certainly bore that out. "An intriguing notion, in its own way," I said jauntily.

An easy laugh burst from him and he settled back into his corner again. "You're a fascinating young woman, Haruhi," he said, smiling. An answering smile climbed unbidden to my face.

Kyoya's cell rang. As he fished it from his pocket, I stood to collect the dishes from the table.

"Hello, Tamaki." I froze, slowly taking a seat again. "Why yes I do. She's right here with me, and she seems just fine. In fact she looks quite adorable in her pajamas. "

Tamaki's answering squawk was nearly drowned out by my own. "These aren't pajamas, they're just my gym shorts and my dad's old t-shirt!"

I thought I heard Tamaki whimper.

"Yes, she does look very cute," he confirmed, eyeing my bare legs with an impish gleam in his eye. I could feel the smoke rising from my ears.

Tamaki's rush of words was cut off by Kyoya. "That won't be necessary. Her father is due home any minute and then I'll be leaving… Yes, I think I hear him now. Goodbye, Tamaki," he said with finality, snapping the phone shut.

"What was that all about?" I demanded. How dare he lounge there looking all relaxed with his arm tossed over the back of my sofa, his black button down pulling apart at the hollow of his throat, his eyes glinting mischievously… so beautiful… Wait, where was I going with this again?

He shrugged. "He needs to realize you don't belong to him."

Whatever that means.

"First kiss…" I grumbled under my breath. "What's the big deal anyway? Why don't you just kiss me now and get it over with," I groused.

A flame lit his eyes and then subsided just as quickly. "Well, Haruhi, I don't believe I've ever been propositioned quite so callously," he said archly.

"Propositioned," I scoffed. "It was hardly…" I froze as the arm behind me flexed, allowing him to trace the edge of my jaw with one finger. "I have half a mind to take you up on it, though, just to punish you." He toyed with the damp strands of my hair as he seemed to consider. My heart beat a staccato rhythm.

"Call me old-fashioned," he said, "but I believe your first kiss is supposed to be reserved for someone special to you."

You're special to me, I thought. But the words wouldn't come. I was too scared. Scared of how it would change things. Scared that he didn't really want me.

He must have seen the shadow flit over my face, for his registered confirmation and… was that regret? He pulled away and stood, walking toward the bookcase. "Besides, I think we established tonight that you've already had your first kiss."

I remembered my thoughts from earlier. "Yeah," I questioned, "Where did that picture come from anyway? Everybody was either on stage or in the audience…" My voice died away as I put two and two together.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I said in awe.

His back was to me, his fingers skimming the titles on the bookshelf. "It seemed the best course at the time."

I didn't know how to feel about being saved by Kyoya twice in one night. I stood to pace and decided to clear the dishes. "I feel like such a… baby. It seems like you guys are always having to rescue me."

"Well, I think you're more courageous than any other woman I've known." I looked up abruptly, but he still faced the bookshelf. "Did these books belong to your mother?"

Whoa, subject change whiplash. "Yes, most of them." I set down the dishes in the sink and returned to look at the titles with him.

"She was a student of philosophy as well as law," he observed.

"I guess so. I don't remember much, but I know at one time she did a lot of reading on different religions. She wanted to examine the claims and biases for herself." I shrugged. "I guess it was the lawyer in her."

"Hmm. I've wondered about that myself. We humans act like we are the center of the universe, but what if we're not?" He tilted his head. "A thinking person wants to know the truth," he mused.

"Well, she seemed at peace when..." I cleared my throat and he looked down at me compassionately. I turned from his gaze. "These Bible studies," I affectionately traced them with my fingertips. "She used to meet with other women here, to talk about what they had read." I drifted into hazy memories. "When she went to the facility, they used to come by to see her. And when she prayed with them," I remembered the way her lips curved slightly as she prayed, her eyes closed as they so often were at the end. "She wasn't afraid. She really believed in an afterlife, and that she would be in heaven because of her faith in Jesus."

"That's remarkable. Did it make it easier for you and your father?" He leaned his shoulder against the bookcase, crossing his arms in a relaxed posture and facing me squarely as he listened.

"Yes, in some ways. We never totally understood, but… she was so smart. I guess we figured that if she was so sure about it, then she must be right. You know what I mean?" I asked, looking up to catch his eye. He was deep in thought, but spared me a reassuring nod. "It's nice to think of her in heaven, still herself and alive and helping God watch over me." I was too embarrassed to admit my own recent overtures to her God.

"Yes, I can see how that would be comforting," he said in answer to my last comment. "Well, I'm sure she's very proud of you." I looked down at my bare toes shyly.

"You're a very capable woman, Haruhi." I heard the esteem in his voice. "You take care of yourself and your father, you made the effort to gain the Ouran scholarship all on your own, and you brave the attitudes of its students every day."

"But sometimes," he drawled, and I could hear the smirk behind it. "Sometimes your courage outruns your good sense." I looked up at him in question. Like tonight, I guess.

"You don't need to be babied, but…" His gaze searched mine. I wasn't sure what he was looking for. "I think I will help your mother watch over you."

What could I say? His assessment was correct, as usual. I couldn't deny I hadn't needed rescuing a few times.

I studied his face. He seemed anxious. I guess even Kyoya worries about me from time to time. "Thanks, I guess." It was hard to admit I might need anyone else's help. I was so used to coping on my own.

He exhaled in relief and pushed off the bookcase to stand. "Well, watching over you isn't too difficult, since you're so short." The teasing note in his voice told me he was trying to lighten things up.

"Short?" I played along. "I'm not short; you're just super tall!"

"You barely reach my chin… look at you," he said, using one hand to mark the height of his jaw, the other pulling me close enough to compare. My palms flew up to his chest as I tried to catch my balance.

The sound of the lock turning startled us and we jumped apart. Kyoya's cool mask slid back into place and he walked toward the door.

"Ranka-sama," he calmly greeted my father as he burst through the door.

"Oh, Kyoya, how can I ever…" He spotted me. "Haruhi!" he called, advancing on me. "Thank goodness you're safe! You are in so much trouble, young lady..."

"Excuse me," Kyoya cut in. "I believe my driver is waiting? I'll say goodnight now."

"Oh, yes. He is," Dad suddenly recalled. "Thank you, Kyoya. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't…"

"Glad to be of service," Kyoya said, his host club manners on display. He gave me one last unfathomable look before closing the door behind him.

As I prepared to face my dad's inquisition I thought, I could use some rescuing right about now.