A/N: Hey everybody, I'm back again… I should really be ashamed of myself… But I'm not. Hrm. In any case, we all know that this was for LiveJournal, yaddy yaddy ya… Exactly, let's just get on with it already.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or there'd be a heck of a lot of molestation reports in the police databanks.

"Even if it's a dream with a one-in-a-million chance…We have the freedom…

to dream." – Nobara Sumiyoshi

Postcard Worthy

His days fall easily into routine. Morning, reviewing the company's stock during breakfast, paperwork in the office. Afternoon, meeting after meeting, did he eat lunch yet-couldn't remember. Evening, more paperwork, answering questions, e-mail check, dinner? What dinner?

With the phone ringing off the hook at some ungodly time two whole hours before he normally awoke (that idiot Tamaki again, babbling about some new commoner's attraction), he was in a particularly black mood that was only topped by his pounding headache. Halfway through creating an extremely chilling atmosphere for the attendees of his third meeting straight, his secretary came in with an anxious look on her face.

Cautiously, she approached her boss as if he looked like he would attack something at any minute, which he did, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Vice President, but you have a very persistent visitor demanding to see you."

Kyouya turned his trademark "Glare of the Shadow King" evil purple ray beam upon her, "Well, tell whoever it is to make an appointment and get lost," the silent "or else" was readily visible, causing her to gulp,

"I'm sorry, Sir, I tried, but apparently, the lady in question is a lawyer and has threatened legal action if you did not comply."

He paused and in that silence several people squirmed in their seats, "Very well. I will go and meet this person. Perhaps she could use a bit of a lawsuit herself. This meeting will be rescheduled. Thank you all for your time."

And never had there been a more heartfelt sigh of relief than when he packed his briefcase and left the room altogether.

There was only one woman in the lobby, a rather small personage in a gray suit who was currently perusing a large painting on the wall. He stopped, puzzled,

"Haruhi?"

Haruhi turned and smiled, a briefcase of her own in hand, 'Hello, Kyouya-senpai."

He sighed, putting a hand to his forehead, 'What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

Haruhi walked up to him and shrugged, "Tamaki-senpai called me and cried something along the lines of, 'Kyouya's mean, someone help him!'. I rather got the impression that he meant he needed someone to make sure you're not overworking."

Kyouya raised his eyebrows and pushed his glasses further up his nose but gave no further comment.

"Tamaki's preschool has a fieldtrip to the zoo today, so he couldn't come even if he could find a substitute. Hikaru's in Europe for an exhibition and Kaoru's setting up the gallery for their clothing designs here," she continued to rattle off names, "Hunny-senpai is opening his new dojo today and Mori-senpai will be present also. I have no case today so," she shrugged again, "Here I am," she peered up at him, 'You look tired," she observed offhandedly.

"Do I, now?" he inquired mildly. The sarcasm wasn't missed.

"As a matter of fact, you do. When did you sleep last night?"

"When I slept."

She shrugged, "Have it your way," she pulled a paper cup out of the side pocket of her briefcase and dug a couple of pills from her coat pocket, handing them to him, "But I bet it was somewhere between two and three," she rummaged around in her briefcase and produced a water bottle as well, "Here," she opened the paper cup for him and left him to hold it as she filled it halfway with water, "That should be enough to take the aspirin."

Once again he raised an eyebrow at her, then decided anybody could tell he had a migraine to the nth degree. He popped two of the pills into his mouth and washed it down with the water.

"You can take the rest of the afternoon off, right? Cancel the rest of the appointments; you need food."

He glanced at his watch surreptitiously, "No, thank you. I have another meeting in about ten minutes."

Haruhi sighed, "Can you make it through the day with no energy? You're obviously tired, it doesn't look as if you've had a decent meal in ages, and you're planning to go through another day in your condition?"

Kyouya looked at her impassively before allowing himself a vague smile, "Is that inherent mother's complex being turned on me now?" he wondered, more to himself than to present company.

"What?"

"Never mind. I'll cancel this afternoon's schedule," Haruhi waited patiently as he called his nervous secretary and rescheduled the next couple of meetings and gave instructions on paperwork to be done in his absence.

"Where to?" he asked once he finished.

Haruhi checked her own watch contemplatively, "I was thinking of this one deli I sometimes go to. The food's not that bad."

He ran a hand through his hair noncommittally, "Alright. I'll call the chauffeur."

Haruhi shook her head, "Why bother? I'll drive."

Kyouya already had his cell phone halfway up to his ear, "Why not? It's convenient."

"For you," she pointed out blithely, "I'd rather drive. And all you have to do is sit in your seat like you'd do in your limo anyways."

He raised his eyebrows at her again, something he had been doing a lot in the past ten minutes, "I highly doubt your car will offer the same comfort and efficiency a chauffeur can afford. Have you anything to say to that?"

Half an hour later found them in the parking lot of a busy plaza as Haruhi turned the key off in the ignition, pointing, "It's right across there."

"How quaint," were the first two words out of his mouth as they walked into the café with multiple paintings serving as décor, "Interesting," was the third.

"A table for two please," Haruhi requested of the waitress and they were immediately seated in a back corner and given two menus.

Once the girl had left, promising to return with their drinks, Haruhi peered at Kyouya over her menu, "Really, that didn't kill you now did it?"

Kyouya flipped nonchalantly through the gold-embossed pages, "Oh, I'll live to die another day, I'm sure."

The waitress came back, directing admiring looks at our Mr. Vice President that failed to register. She took the orders and left disappointed, not even rewarded with one acknowledging glance. Haruhi, on the other hand, watched the entire mini-episode with amusement.

'He really doesn't put on airs when there's nobody to impress.'

Kyouya glanced around the shop and noted the people were sitting down at the tables around them. They all seemed to be in formal business attire with mugs of coffee on their tables, creating a rather stereotypical picture of the working class.

"I've always wondered why men always propose on one knee," Haruhi mused aloud.

Kyouya looked back to her and followed her gaze to the painting on the wall. A man in a suit held a magnificently sparkling diamond ring in its velveteen box up to a casually-dressed young woman who held a hand to her blushing cheeks. He pushed his glassed further up his nose,

"There is speculation that the tradition of bending one knee to propose originated from our feudal system that naturally placed men over women. Kneeling is temporarily putting the man below the woman in importance and for once in his life, he is actually requesting something of a woman. A prayer of supplication, if you will."

Haruhi glanced at him, then back at the poster, "That makes sense," she paused, then went on, "I think they're going to need a marriage counselor and eventually a divorce lawyer soon."

It was his turn to cast a look her way out of the corner of his eye, "And why do you say that?"
"Well… She seems surprised. And not the kind of 'surprised' that says 'I never expected a walk to turn out like this,' it's more like, 'wow, I never expected this to happen at all'. When that happens and she accepts, the marriage most always never works out."
He thought it over briefly, "That makes sense."

Despite his mimicking of her earlier comment, she didn't answer, changing the topic instead, "Kyouya-senpai, you wouldn't be the kind of person to propose on one knee, would you?" she asked, turning to face him again with that knowing smile on her face.

"I suppose," he conceded with a slight smile, so full of sarcasm it was more of a smirk. They both knew enough to confidently say that Kyouya Ohtori would never damage his filthy-rich, high-class reputation to propose on bended knee. To any girl.

"This is normally where Renge-kun would pop out on her high-powered motor and proclaim some prophetic exclamation along the lines of what the 'Kyouya she knows' would do," Haruhi chuckled, "Probably akin to the plot of her video-game drama."

"Similar to a stroll in the park during springtime and a heartfelt avowal of undying passion? And interesting theory to be sure," he commented dryly.

"How poetic," Haruhi countered, "And look, our food is here."

He had forgotten just what it was like to take a day off, to relax for a while and do something unrelated to work. Like having a conversation, for example. That night, he went home and dug up some of his old files and dialed the number to one Ranka Fujioka. There was a lot to catch up on.

One week later, Kyouya found himself in lack of a secretary as he read her resignation, which claimed her psychiatrist recommended a less stressful occupation for her. And now he was short a secretary until further notice. Hello annoying phone calls. Hello dealing with people (and inevitably scaring them) in Shadow King Mode.

He had practically lost his more important social skills: the ones that allowed you to weasel deals out of unsuspecting customers. Did that come from working too much? Perhaps. Or just a general lack of up-close people interaction. In any case, lack of skills or not, he had to take care of his paperwork, answer questions, and watch the phone at the same time. Joy.

Twenty-six phone calls, three cups of coffee, and wondering "exactly how secretaries were able to do this" later, the phone rang yet again and he picked up, cursing marvels of technology that allowed communication over unnamed distances, "Hello, Ohtori Franchises, how may I help you?"

A familiar female voice spoke from the other end after a slight pause, "…Kyouya-senpai? Why are you answering the phone?"

"Hello to you too, Haruhi," he remarked, toying with his pen.

"Don't you normally have a secretary to take care of this kind of stuff?"

He let out a breath of air that was almost a snort, "I did… until she resigned."

The disbelieving expression that must have been on her face was clear in his mind, "She resigned? What exactly did you do to her? Couldn't you borrow someone else's secretary?"

"I didn't do anything to her. Apparently, her psychiatrist recommended a 'less stressful' job and she left. All the other secretaries are needed where they are, to answer your other question."

A grin was evident in her tone, "I bet you're the cause of her stress."

"…" Did she ever talk to him like this in the Host Club? No, now that he thought about it. She was always rather compliant when he still held his clipboard and her debts. Ah, that must be it. He held her purse strings, or so it could be said, and she was merely making sure he didn't have the rest of her purse as well.

She continued, "I could get you a secretary, if you like. My secretary's been dying to work in a business corporation for a while. He's pretty good at what he does."

"Your secretary?"

"Yes, he just had the bad luck to be hired into a law firm. He's always wanted to be in business."

"And then you'll need a secretary, which leaves us nowhere at all."

"That's alright. It's not like I get that many calls anyways. I'll send him over to your company. He looks excited."

"There is also the little problem of my having nothing to do for the rest of the day," Kyouya pointed out, "I canceled everything to take my own calls."

His answer came in the form of bluntly–worded common sense, "Take the day off and do something recreational."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…Let me guess. You don't know what 'recreational' pertains to."

"…Would you like your million yen?"

Haruhi checked the clock hanging on her office wall, "Well, Satoru just left so he should be at your company building in about ten minutes the way he's driving. Do you think you could get your chauffeur to drive you in the comfort you prize so highly to the gourmet restaurant in the downtown district?"

"I do believe I can," he returned.

"Then after you give Satoru his instructions, I'll see you there. Shall I bring some aspirin in case you get the urge to bite someone?"

"Perhaps you should bring some bandages anyways, just in case."

He found his life made considerably easier with a new secretary who wasn't afraid to ask questions and confirm his instructions. Still, occasionally, there were still days when meetings just stacked up one after another for days on end.

When he felt sure he was going to dismember the next employee who had the unmitigated temerity to inquire for a vacation allowance, there was yet another female lawyer in his lobby threatening lawsuit. Maybe not every time. Sometimes, she just called his pager so many times it was impossible to continue whatever he was doing, and the moment he stepped out of the elevator, he was greeted with a slight wave and his secretary explaining in an extremely amused tone that his schedule had been changed due to the threat of legal action from his former boss.

It was quite a problem to have an employee who was so devoted to his personal interests as well as his corporate life. Even more so as said employee was understandably loyal to the aforementioned lawyer who insisted on making sure he didn't work himself to death.

After a brief argument over who would get to drive (Haruhi or his chauffeur), she would always bring him to fully experience the "boundaries of recreation". It had puzzled him for a while as to how she always seemed to know when he was having a stressful day. However, you didn't need to be a genius with infinite resources (though he was one) to discover the answer. His secretary apparently had Haruhi's number on speed-dial the second he entered his office with a thunderous expression on his face. He should have his pay docked. Such audacity.

When she didn't see him, she called most nights to check up on him and to chat for a couple of minutes. Though his life was one long, monotonous routine, this habit was one he actually enjoyed. Without realizing it, he had incorporated her into his life.

"Are you going to come tomorrow?" he asked unexpectedly one afternoon as they were perusing through some downtown gift shops.

Haruhi looked up from a peculiar vase she had been inspecting and her expression went amused in about zero seconds flat, "Why? Do you already know you're going to have a bad day tomorrow? Are you actually planning to incinerate that one manager you've been threatening to do away with for over a month now?"

He picked up a ceramic bowl and looked it over, "Really, his work is completely incompetent. Incineration would be far too merciful for the likes of him. In any case, I had decided I could do with only a couple hours of work tomorrow."

Haruhi shrugged, rounding the aisle, then turned back to grin carelessly at him, "Well, tomorrow's tomorrow, right? We'll see. Hey, that's a strange shape for a tree…"

The reason he had wanted her to come today was because he had something to give her. It was burning an almost literal hole in his pocket and honestly, how was he supposed to concentrate when that moronic clock was ticking away so loudly over his desk? Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The hands on the clock have never moved so slowly. His door opened and his secretary came in, escorting a red-haired young man into the room.

"Kaoru Hitachiin to see you, Sir," he paused, "Uh… Do you want me to have someone take care of that report for you, Sir? If I may dare to say so, you don't seem to be making a whole lot of progress on it in the first place."

Kyouya handed it over wordlessly as Kaoru took a seat in the armchair opposite his worktable, lounging there casually, "Hey."

He nodded at the younger man, "Hello, Kaoru. To what do I owe this honor?"

Kaoru grinned, inspecting the sleeve hem of his expensive, stylish shirt, "Haruhi called me and told me to come make sure that you're not overworking. He peered at Kyouya speculatively, "You don't look overworked, do you?"

Kyouya shook his head absently, "I didn't do much of anything today. Where's Haruhi?"

Kaoru shrugged, "You know her. She's reviewing her case for this weekend. She was up late all last night when we called to pester her about her cake and she woke up early this morning to look it over too."

"Cake…?" Sorry, Kyouya just wasn't as on top of things as he used to be.

Kaoru looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind, which he might have, on the way to work that morning, "Today's Haruhi's birthday," and that's when he remembered something, "Oh yea. Tono said to tell you to come to Haruhi's birthday party tonight. We're having it at her apartment, so bring a gift."

Oh yea. Today was Haruhi's birthday. He had been so preoccupied he had forgotten, "I see."

Kaoru stared at him for a while then stood up, "Looks like the magical carriage is turning back into a pumpkin," he mused, "We'll see you tonight, right?"

Kyouya blinked, nonplussed for once in his life, "…Yes."

Haruhi looked up from a large stack of papers she was reading through as the doorbell rang and rubbed her eyes tiredly. With a groan from limbs too long inactive, she went to open the door.

"You look tired," were his greeting words and she raised an eyebrow at him,

"Do I, now?"

"As a matter of fact, you do. When did you sleep last night?"

She grinned tiredly at him, remembering where this came from and the answer to give, "When I slept."

"Do you have anything planned this afternoon that can't be canceled?"

Haruhi thought about it for a moment, "I suppose I don't. Why?"

Kyouya propped up his glasses, "Ready for a break?"

She smiled, "I guess I am. Who's driving?"

He gestured towards her car, "If you'll lend me the keys, I'll drive."

Haruhi raised an eyebrow at him, "Do you even know how?"

He felt a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "Of course I do."

Haruhi pulled the key ring from her pocket and twirled it on one finger, "I don't think so."

Ten minutes later found Kyouya parking the car along the roadside by the community park. He opened his mouth but Haruhi beat him to it as she got out of the car,

"I'm sure I'll live to die another day, thanks."

Stepping onto the curb beside her, he gestured towards the paved path winding through the park, "Shall we?"

They walked along the cement path in silence through the grove of cherry trees, the petals of the early flowers drifting slowly down in the light breeze that gently blew their way. There was a stand vendor selling crepes on the road nearby and the delicious aroma floated towards them, blending perfectly with the fresh, earthy smell of spring.

He had incorporated her into his life…

"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" he asked as they stopped to let a few children run by with their ice cream cones.

Haruhi looked up at him and blinked, "Um, yea, it is."

"…Happy birthday," he offered, for lack of anything original to say.

She quirked her lips in a half smile, "Eh, thanks. Did Kaoru tell you about…?"

He nodded, "Yes, he did, this morning, but I was actually going to give you your gift now."

…and he was reluctant to let her go.

A tiny case, a shiny object – there's nothing that sparkly found in nature - a series of whoops and claps.

Palpitating breath and hope of favorable reply, a prayer of supplication upon bended knee… His answer?

She smiled.

No need for counseling, no need for a lawyer.

"We'll see you tonight, right?" Kaoru had asked, "In that case, I'll bring the champagne and some of our wedding catalogues. See you there."

./OWARI;

A/N: Yup, that's right. I am ashamed… NOT! Hah. Don't ask me what happened to Hikaru. I don't know either. And I feel horrible for it. Shut up. The quote is from Crimson Hero (a pretty good series, I might add) and the person who said it is the protagonist. I leave you to decide whether or not that pertains to one of the characters in this story or whether it is just a wording of this insane authoress' wish for something that will never happen. You choose. We're allowed to dream, after all. .

-MshRm