Author's Note: I guess you could call this a series. Basically it's going to be a bunch of one-shots wrapped up in one package because I don't have enough time to plot it all out into one complete story, nor the capacity. Therefore, this is the best I can do. It's a change from my normal Hatori/Tohru stuff, but I absolutely ADORE Misao/Saitou. This was a real big spur of the moment thing, so be gentle.

When you guys read this, if you find yourself wanting more, drop me a request in a review & by God you shall have more. However, if I don't receive any, then this thing will remain with just the one chapter instead of the little "one-shot mini-series" I had originally planned out.

Warnings: Saitou/Misao oriented, need I say more? Um, I attempted to keep them in character, not so sure if I succeeded. You be the judge.

Some events in the story are based on real-life…too fun.

As always, hope you like it, & enjoy!

Usual disclaimers apply.


Detention: Sexual Orientation 101 (Part 1?)

Misao walked into the stuffy, old History classroom, the faint odor of cigarettes irritating her nose. Following a familiar routine, she dumped her things on the floor beside her desk and sat down.

She watched hazy grey smoke swirl and contort in the air a few feet across from her, following the tendrils all the way to the very mouth that spewed them forth. She eyed the man in front of her in an obvious manner.

He chose to ignore her presence all together and continued scrawling down the length of a paper with his ballpoint. The harsh scratching practically echoed throughout the room, leaving one scathing red mark after another, forever marring the page.

Seeing as how he refused to initiate any conversation, she saw fit to take matters into her own hands.

"Second hand smoke kills, you know." She remarked, examining her cuticles and picking out imaginary crumbs of dirt.

"Good, one less mouth to feed."

Seeing as how this particular discussion seemed to be going south, she started to drum her fingernails to the beat of some non-existent theme.

Every time they hit the wooden surface he would visibly twitch, much to her amusement. She started humming a tune to go along with it.

He went on ignoring her. Then, she added words…

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts. Bum, bum, bum…here they are standing in a row, bum, bum, bum-"

The grip on his pen tightened until his knuckles were almost white.

"-Big ones, small ones, some as big as your HEAD!"

"SHUT UP!" He barked and she just smiled, her blue orbs gazing at him innocently.

He sighed heavily and went back to writing comments across the test papers.

Time to bring out the big guns, she cackled mentally.

"Are you gay?"

"WHAT…?" Amber eyes flickered to her face.

She picked at something on her desk, looking completely apathetic.

"It's a simple question, and the answer is a simple yes or no."

"Answer me this, what provoked you to inquire about my sexual orientation when you have a twelve page essay to write on the Meji Era of Japan?" He plucked off his reading glasses and reclined in his chair, facing her.

She looked at him, confused.

"What essay?"

"The one that's just been assigned to you; you better get started, I expect it no later than Friday." He answered.

"WHAT…!? But today is Thursday!"

"Exactly why you should use this opportunity to start…"

She glared at him as he basked in his five minutes of glory.

"I don't have a pencil." She pouted.

"Find one." He retorted.

"Bastard…"She mumbled.

"Pardon..?" He smirked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"I said, Battousai; wasn't he, like, some famous assassin during the Bakumatsu?" She replied quickly, while shuffling through her bag in search of a writing utensil.

"Yes, now shut up and write…"

Approximately 5 minutes later…

"So…" She tapped her (borrowed) pencil against the desk.

"What now?" He glared from behind his newspaper.

"You never did answer my question."

"What question?"

"My, my, aren't we the forgetful one; are you gay?"

"Are you finished with my essay?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, to be honest, I haven't even started."

"Then why are you talking?" He snapped.

"Why is it that everything that comes out of your mouth drips with sarcasm and ends with a question mark?"

"Drips with sarcasm', that's some good grammatical use." He commented, dryly.

"Whoa, did I just enter a parallel universe where you actually complimented me?"

"Maybe you can put your ability to manipulate words to some productive use in that essay and it might just bring up the failing grade that it's sure to earn." He finished.

She sighed, "Spoke too soon; knew it was too good to be true. So what are you, an English teacher now or what?"

"No, I detest English; analyzing works of fiction is nothing more than a waste of time, not to mention boring." He watched her visibly perk up at this and for some reason, he regretted saying anything.

"Oh so NOW we're getting somewhere…" She pulled out a small notepad seemingly out of nowhere. "Tell me more; was there some evil English teacher in your past that traumatized you? Did she make you write twelve page essays just to see you suffer, or is that just a special characteristic of yours?"

"Do you enjoy giving me a headache?" He could hardly believe the audacity of this girl.

She seemed to actually think about it before replying, "Just a bit… are you always this tense? I've heard from many a client that I can do killer things with my hands." She wiggled her dainty fingers for emphasis.

"Excuse me?" He baited, hoping that embarrassment would cause her to be finally at a loss for words.

"I meant I give great massages, you dirty, old man."… Alas, he realized too late that the girl had no shame.

He ran a hand though his hair, a few stray locks refusing to comply and falling over his eyes.

"Isn't it time for you to leave?"

"Nope, far from it, actually; I've only been here fifteen minutes. I've got another forty-five to go."

"Do you value your life?"

"Hello, talk about random, but yes, I happen to like living."

"Then I suggest you leave before I kill you."

"Hmm, is that a threat, or are you just trying to be funny?"

"I'm not known for my sense of humor, Ms. Makimachi."

"Ew, don't call me 'Ms.' It makes me feel ancient, kind of like you." She scrunched her nose up in disapproval.

"I'm thirty-six…" He answered truthfully, curious as to her reaction.

"No way; are you serious?"

"When have I been anything but?"

"Wow, I'm going to feel weird calling you 'Mr.' Saitou from now on. How about I just call you Hajime?"

"How about no…?"

"See, here we go again, ending all your sentences with question marks, and just when I thought that we were beginning to see some progress."


So what do you think? I could leave it at this unless I had some review requests for more, because believe me, I've got more. Drop me those reviews with your input, NO FLAMES. I was hesitant enough as it is about posting this up, so just stick with the constructive criticism, please.

Leave me some love! It's great motivation.