A/N: Dedicated to Tarma Hartley, my very own Natsuki. Merry Christmas, my love!

Duran-kun and Kiyo-chan's Omake Theater

(featuring the Kuga-Fujino family pets)

"Look, Daddy. Teacher says, 'Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.'"

"That's right, that's right. Atta boy, Clarence!"

The words were spoken in English, though Japanese characters were conveniently printed across the bottom of the TV screen, the yellow standing out against the old black-and-white American movie. Shizuru didn't need the subtitles, but Natsuki, who'd been the one actually ensconced on the couch watching, probably did; English was not her strongest subject, foreign languages being perhaps the least amenable to being learned while regularly skipping class.

Shizuru leaned over the back of the couch.

"Would Natsuki like a cup of hot cocoa?"

"What?" Natsuki blinked, her attention having been caught by the film. "Oh. Yeah, thanks, Shizuru."

Shizuru handed her girlfriend the steaming mug. When Natsuki shifted to reach for it, the movement caused her legs to shift. This woke up Duran, who'd been stretched out on the couch with his head in his mistress's lap. His head came up, and only Natsuki's quick reflexes prevented a nasty spill.

"Did you enjoy your movie?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good." She tried to make it sound like an offhand remark, but failed miserably. Especially when Duran leaned up and licked a tear off her face. "Gah!"

"Is there a reason Natsuki does not wish me to know that she finds holiday classics emotionally affecting?" Shizuru said, smiling broadly.

Natsuki gave her a look.

"You have to ask?"

Shizuru giggled.

"Is Natsuki trying to imply that I will tease her mercilessly about it?"

Natsuki gave her a long, cool glare.

"I wasn't aware that it needed to be implied. Stated straight out, known in my soul as a certainty the way I know the sun will rise in the morning..."

Shizuru rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Natsuki, I'm not that bad. And the only reason it's fun to tease you about things is that you make such a big deal about them in the first place. If you'd simply admit that you like sentimental old foreign movies, without making huffy noises and trying to deny it first, then I wouldn't have anything to tease you over."

She bent down and kissed Natsuki on top of her head.

"Tell the truth and shame the devil, you're saying?" Natsuki drawled.

"Oooh, a direct hit. A devil, am I? Well, see if you get any fruitcake."

"Fruitcake? We have fruitcake?" Natsuki's head popped up over the back of the couch like a jack-in-the-box.

"We have fresh-from-the-oven fruitcake."

"I didn't hear you go out. Man, I know I haven't had to fight off any ancient conspiracies for over a year and a half now, but I didn't think my awareness was so shot I'd miss the door opening and closing while you went in and out, or the simple fact that you weren't here for twenty minutes or so."

Shizuru found her heart melting all over again. Natsuki, she thought, didn't even have any idea that she'd said anything special, even though she'd just confessed that she was so awake to Shizuru's presence that even though they were doing completely separate things and Natsuki was engrossed in her movie, she'd have noticed if Shizuru hadn't been in the house. Is it any wonder that I love her so much?

"You'd have noticed, too, wouldn't you, boy?"

Duran woofed softly, agreeing that he'd certainly have heard the door, like any self-respecting watchdog.

"I didn't go out. It's fresh from our oven."

Natsuki paled.

"Shizuru...you didn't bake it yourself, did you?"

For ordinary matters, Shizuru Fujino was an exceptional cook, particularly compared to Natsuki, whose culinary skills began and ended with pulling back the lid and pouring in boiling water to let stand for three minutes. For some reason, however, Shizuru's skills did not extend to cakes and pastries. Baked sweets were generally failures. Usually appalling failures that threatened to...

She supposed that she could have been offended by Natsuki's sudden horror, but her girlfriend's fear was rational. Every so often she herself still had nightmares about the impact velocity of blueberries.

"No, Natsuki, I didn't. All I did was help get out ingredients and occasionally open a lid."

"Then who—?"

On cue, six purple snake-heads leaned out around the side of the kitchen door, hissing. They were wearing puffy white chef's hats atop their finlike crests, though the third head had managed to get its nose stuck inside its as well.

"Since your birthday cake turned out so well this year, she wanted to try making something for you again."

"Kiyohime's homemade fruitcake?" Natsuki perked up at once. "In that case, I'll have a big slice!"

Shizuru smiled wickedly.

"Now, what should I make my Natsuki do to earn her treat?" she purred.

"Hey, if I'm gonna jump through hoops, it ought to be for the actual baker, not her kitchen help! Besides which, whatever happened to only teasing me because I 'make huffy noises and deny it first'? I've never claimed that fruitcake wasn't one of my favorite treats."

"That is true," Shizuru agreed, smiling broadly. "But...you like fruitcake, Natsuki. It isn't my fault that you've chosen to be open and shameless about the one habit you have that truly is embarrassing!"

Natsuki nailed her in the face with a throw pillow.

~X X X~

A/N: Which now makes two stories in which I've teased my wife about her liking for fruitcake, so obviously Shizuru is right. ^_^