This story is the joint work of Stella Malodi and CatrinaSL. The excellent cover art was commissioned from SF; you can find his work on DeviantArt (pm CatrinaSL for the link to his page). Special thanks to fringeperson and My Ashland for their beta work.

Disclaimer: We do not own Ouran High School Host Club. But we have been dragged off to a few makeovers in our time.

It seemed odd to Ranka that Haruhi's alarm was going off. This was a Sunday. Haruhi typically woke early on her own, but faithfully set her alarm every day, just in case she happened to sleep in. He'd worked hard to convince her that the alarm should stay off on Sundays, that she deserved to sleep in on her day off, if she could manage it. She'd finally agreed to it after he'd threatened to throw out all of her ugly clothes if she didn't. (Well, she didn't think they were ugly; she thought they were practical.)

He was still half asleep, but this was a mystery (and an opportunity!) he had to investigate. If he hadn't been mostly asleep, he would've been dancing at the thought that he'd finally have the excuse he needed to get rid of those horrid things taking up Haruhi's closet space.

"Morning, Haru-"

"Don't you dare touch my clothes! It's not my fault I had to wake up early!"

He held up his hands in self defense. His daughter was especially tenacious when he forced her to wear "impractical" frilly nightgowns, as he had the night before. "Okay, okay, no need to shout. If it's not your fault, whose is it?"

"Ōtori Kyōya. He's one of the hosts in that club I found last week."

"What did he do?"

"Well," she said, then paused. She seemed to be at a loss for words. "First he kidnapped me, and then he asked me to help out at the Host Club: serve tea and cake, maybe fill in if one of the Hosts gets sick, that sort of thing. I think. Anyway, he's going to get me a uniform in exchange, and he said something about a haircut and contacts. The last thing he said before he left was to be ready by 8 AM, but he didn't say what for."

"Hm," Ranka said, processing the information. There was a mystery to be solved; he'd freak out about the kidnapping thing later. "Well, the fancy school uniforms are all custom made, right? That's part of why they were so expensive. So, he probably needs to have you fitted for a uniform. And a good haircut takes longer than when you cut gum out of it yourself. Then there's the eye doctor, and if he's worried about your appearance... well, you'll be having a long and uncomfortable day, but you'll look much better for it."

"Huh?"

"Haruhi, I think he's arranged a makeover for you."

"Right in one," came the voice of someone who'd just let himself in. "I apologize, Fujioka-san," he continued, "I had rather hoped to introduce myself to you on more formal terms, but I suppose this will have to do." He bowed. "I am Ōtori Kyōya, vice-president of Ouran Academy's Host Club, and I am here to escort your daughter today while she gets," he cleared his throat, "an upgrade." He paused, tapping his pen on the notebook he held. "There's more than enough room for you, if you'd like to come along."

Kyōya-kun had said the magic words. Ranka's eyes lit up even as his daughter groaned. He knew exactly what she was thinking: something along the lines of, This is going to be a long day, or I'm so glad my beloved father will be there for my makeover, or possibly, Will I get back in time to buy beef from the market?

A set of red-headed twins casually strolled through the door. "Hey, Kyōya-sempai, can we get going already? You said we're going to give the scholarship student a makeover, right? We're going to need all day to do a halfway decent job, so we really need to go." They spotted his darling daughter, who was glaring. Identical eyes brightened slightly as they spotted their prey. They darted forward, each grabbing one of her arms, and started dragging her outside. Ranka started to follow them and saw that their destination was a fancy car.

"Wait!" Haruhi was yelling, "It's barely 7:30! I'm not ready! I'm not even dressed yet!"

""With your clothes? That's probably for the best,"" the twins replied in unison.

Ranka was understandably upset with this turn of events; luckily, Kyōya-kun chose that moment to explain who they were and why they were manhandling his daughter. "Their mother is Hitachiin Yuzuha-sama. As you can imagine, they've learned a lot from her. They're very good at what they do, and I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."

Ranka's distress disappeared, and instead he was thrilled that his daughter would be getting a makeover from the sons of such a distinguished designer.

"Hey," came the voice of a twin, "I thought Fujioka-kun was a boy!"

"Maybe he is and he likes to wear frilly nightgowns," the other twin suggested.

Haruhi's outraged voice could be clearly heard. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here! I don't like to wear these, they're impractical! Every now and then my father decides that I'm not 'feminine' enough and forces me to wear ridiculous clothes; he's the one that picked this out!"

"So, you are a boy, then?" one of the twins asked.

"Well, no, but does it really matter?"

"Lace matters," one twin pointed out.

"I agree," said the other, "this is quality stuff, even though it's not name brand. Your father has pretty good taste."

"Get your hands off me!" Haruhi protested.

Kyōya glanced at Ranka. "Would now be a convenient time for you to accompany us?"

Ranka smiled. "Let me get my things."

Haruhi sighed. It had taken a few hours, but she'd finally given up resisting. She'd had a manicure and a pedicure (accompanied by her father, who was there to "help"), been to the eye doctor for some new contacts, and now they were doing something with her eyebrows. It was annoying, but at least she (hopefully) wouldn't have to do this again. If she did, there would be... unpleasant consequences.

It was a mystery to her how her father could enjoy this sort of thing. It was a waste of time. She could have been doing chores, studying, any number of things, but she wasn't. She was, instead, getting a makeover. That word would forever be one of the dirtiest she knew.

"Close your eyes!" someone ordered. She did, without hesitation, and decided that ignoring everything and everyone around her would be the best use of her time.

Instead, she let her mind wander. She found herself thinking of the day before. Not just of the whole kidnapping escapade, but of what happened after...

As soon as she'd stepped inside her apartment, there had been a loud banging on the door; she must have just about shut it in someone's face! She hadn't even slipped her shoes off yet, so she turned to open it and was surprised to find Mori-sempai standing there, panting as though he'd just run a marathon.

"Mori-sempai!" she had exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting you so soon!" She glanced behind him and noticed that something was missing. "Where's your car?"

"School," he had replied, still trying to catch his breath.

"So... you ran all the way here?" she'd asked. He responded with a short nod.

When she smiled, so did he, and he held up her pencil, the one he'd come all the way to her house to return. A rush of gratitude flowed across Haruhi and left her face burning red. She felt like hugging him, but thought better of it; she wasn't sure he would accept it, not to mention he was pretty sweaty. Luckily, she almost immediately thought of a better reward.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea while you wait for your car?" she asked, accepting her pencil and stepping aside so that he could follow her in. "I've even got a snack to go along with it." She slipped off her shoes and got busy making tea while he took his shoes off and sat down at the table.

She wasn't sure that something as simple as serving strawberries with the tea would show her appreciation of his efforts, but the look on his face said that she had at least made a start.

She grinned at the memory, and shortly thereafter, the random pricks of pain coming from just above her eyes stopped, and she was told that she was now allowed to open her eyes.

"All right, now it's time for your haircut!"

She groaned. Would this day of torture never end?

Author's Note: Happy Friday! Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. We love you all! As always, the next chapter will go up next Friday, but until then, feel free to pm us with questions or request something at iwillwriteyourfic DOT blogspot DOT com.