Characters: Failouch, Pizza Butt, Ms. obviously-reading-yaoi-on-her-phone, Orange-kun, and Ninja Meido.

Genre: crack, crack, crack, and some heroin if not synonymous.

Summary: Orenji farm: now with one hundred percent less fourth walls and tact.

Dedication: to my dearest favorite cousin (just don't tell your siblings I said that) who has the same birthday as me. Once every year, we celebrate our birthday together, and try to blow out candles faster than the other even though we tell our relatives we just don't want the wax on the cake. Here's to another year, and here's your birthday present: my usual absolutely delightful humor and sarcasm surprisingly deprived of racist jokes this time. And also a shitload of Lelouch x C.C. spam just for you.

Orange Ever After

"Geass is the power of the king. It will leave you all alone in this world. Well, that's not quite right, is it, Lelouch?"

Lelouch grunted loudly to account for the muffling caused by his hat (and God, it was such an ugly and not fabulously pink hat, but he needed something to hide his face). "It's you, me, and a bunch of oranges. I think I would have preferred the loneliness. And really, an orange farm? Of all things?"

"Well… Jeremiah likes oranges. Anya likes quiet. Sayako likes rural areas with shadows to hide in, and I like Europe. So, this would be the obvious choice…"

"And what about me?"

"Well, you like... You like being made fun of."

"No, you're the one who likes me being made fun of." He flicked his reins, urging the horses faster, in a physical display of his aggravation.

C.C. shrugged, quite comfortable on top of the cart, getting a nice tan. "Well, yes. Whichever."

"Not whichever. I want a say in things, thank you very much," Lelouch snapped through gritted teeth. "And," he added, not quite finished with his list of grievances. "I've already been delegated as 'head of finances,' as if there's anyone that you're letting me head other than myself—"

"Oh, but you're the head of the horses too." It would've been an innocent remark, if he didn't know her so well and recognize that sarcastic tone of voice.

"And," he emphasized, not happy with being interjected in the middle of his complaints yet again, "why am I the cart driver? Make Jeremiah do it! Make Anya do it! I don't even know what she does around the—"

"I enjoy her company."

"That's it?" Lelouch screamed, and the horses were starting to get a bit edgy with the way he was flinging their reins in every direction. "She gets free room and board because you enjoy her company?"

"Aww," she cooed in response (and really, Lelouch thought, her emotional expressions were definitely backwards). "Are you jealous? I promise that I only tease you because I love you."

"Or because you're a sadistic..." there was a momentary pause as he went through his nouns, "witch." Because no, he would not succumb to her and lose his cool (which, he would like to assure the readers, he has not lost yet) by using profanity.

"That too." She replied simply, not even bothering to refute it.

"And anyways, as I was saying," Lelouch turned around to glare at the rooftop of the cart (not that he could see her anyways from that angle), "Why am I the cart driver? If no one else can do it; then hire one! You're not even the one taking care of the finances, and I'm sure you'd love to just put extra burden on me. And yes, by the way, I do know that you're slipping in those Pizza Cabaña orders under the 'necessary business expenses' section."

"Oh, how impressive that you figured that out." Her voice wasn't quite as impressed as Lelouch would like her to be (it was, after all, a fantastic deduction). "But in my defense... It is a necessary business expense. After all, how can you expect your orange dealer to sell your product properly when she is not beautified by smooth, creamy cheese and red, succulent tomatoes? Not that, of course, I need such products. My face is flawless as it is." She tilted her head up and, despite lying down, managed her usual air of refined and elegant conceit.

"Yeah, sure," Lelouch muttered in response, "And I'm a gay attention whore." C.C. blinked once, then rolled onto her stomach and pulled herself up to the edge of the cart to stare incredulously at her companion. Hearing no retort to match his own, Lelouch slowly turned his head to glare back. "What?"

"No, no; nothing." Her head disappeared from Lelouch's view and she returned to her original position. "I just find it very…interesting that you choose that particular phrase to be sarcastic about."

"I...have no idea what you're saying. And anyways, like I've been trying to say for the last ten minutes as you've been interrupting me, I still don't understand why I'm cart driver! Go hire someone!"

"Well, two reasons really."

"Does one of them involve torturing me?"

"Make that three reasons. With cheesy crust and every topping you can think of, if you please—"

"This isn't Pizza Hut— Cabaña; whatever they call it here!" He flung the reins in annoyance once again, and by now, the horses stopped really caring. "But nevermind that! The reasons, if you please."

"One, holding the reins is the perfect exercise for you. Not strenuous enough to cause you to faint, but just enough to work your muscles. Two, as the hero of the world, you were the commander of men. Now as a plantation co-owner, you must be the commander of horses."

"What kind of logic is that?" He snapped, continuing to abuse his livestock.

She shrugged and pouted in response. "My kind."

Lelouch grumbled a few choice words under his breath as they neared a small and quaint fenced off piece of farmland. "Here at last; I'll have some company aside from you." He tugged on the reins, a signal for the horses to stop. They continued on in complete obliviousness. He yanked again, more forcefully this time (forceful relative to his strength, of course), and still the horses refused to yield. "What is this blasphemy? This is insubordination, dammit! You're not getting dinner tonight!" He threatened to no avail. With a bemused expression, C.C. looked on at her accomplice trying to physically pull the horses back. Finally, with a reluctant glare, he asked her to do something about "these beasts that you spoil."

"Dominoes! Papa John's!" She called out – Lelouch's eyebrows twitching at each name, "Stop!" Slowly, much to Lelouch's wounded ego, the cart rolled to a stop as the horses neighed affectionately.

"I don't even know why they listen to you. I'm the one that feeds them every day."

"I'm the one who orders you to feed them every day, Pizza Hut."

"Don't call me that! It's bad enough that you named the horses after pizza companies; I don't need to be put on the level of beasts of burden." He grumbled, jumping off his seat. C.C. remained on top of the cart, sitting up now with her legs swung over one side. Lelouch glanced back at her, wondering what she was doing. He took a step forward closer to her.

She jumped.

Lelouch only had enough time to flail his arms about helplessly before she landed squarely on him, no injury done to herself. Nonchalantly, she got up and briefly dusted her dress before heading through the gate. The former emperor, meanwhile, was not quite so lucky. He lay there on the ground, his limbs skewed about, twitching. "I...I would check how many ribs you broke... But I don't think I can move my arms."

With a click of her tongue, she walked back to him and, kneeling down, poked his ribcage. "Stop being a pussy. I don't mind if you're secretly gay and fabulous, but try to contain it, will you? Look at Suzaku. The two of you are obviously gay for each other, but he's gay while being all spinkicky and generally manly."

"We're not gay for each other! What goes through that melted cheese brain of yours?" Lelouch cried out, as he uneasily struggled to get back up on his feet despite his not-actually-fractured ribcage.

His rebuttal was waved off with a simple chortle. "Oh really now? You don't think I heard all about your homolust death from Kaguya? In great, perhaps embellished, details? Although," and at this, C.C. pouted thoughtfully with a finger on her chin, "she was using quite a few newfangled words like yaoi and smut..."

"That's not how it is. And more importantly... Why is Anya just standing there behind you, typing away at her iPhone?"

Slowly and nonchalantly, C.C. turned her head to glance behind her. "It's our welcome home party."

"A little girl who's paying more attention her phone than us? A real roof raiser. What are you doing there, anyways, Anya?" He strolled over (limped really, from the injuries he may or may not have had depending on your source), peering over at the screen of her iPhone, and failing to be able to read the small letters.

"Recording C.C.'s words in my LiveJournal. I will be posting it in my personal LJ in bold size-32 sparkling font capslock and spamming every CG comm I can find. I will also be spazzing out about it with my cousin on AIM."

"That's, er, nice..." Lelouch quirked an eyebrow, not quite understanding half the words she spoke (like, what the hell was CG anyways? And what cousin? Was this nameless cousin old enough for Lelouch to throw the custody of Anya onto? And AIM? AIM? Wasn't it BIM – you know; Britannia Online Instant Messaging?).

The awkward moment was salvaged when Jeremiah trotted down the dirt road, one hand waving, one hand carrying a tray of freshly squeezed orange juice (or, at least, it better damn well be freshly squeezed). "Master Lelouch! Mistress C.C.!"

Happily, Lelouch trotted (almost skipped) over to his loyal servant, glad of company with some semblance of sanity.

The four of them sauntered along to a tiny cottage in the middle of the stretch of land and orange trees (bought with money of questionable origin through Lelouch's hacking abilities). They were greeted by Sayako, calmly sipping away at her tea, when they arrived back at the house.

"...And how has my lovely wife been doing?" Jeremiah laughed heartily at the made-up identities they had created which no one else, apparently, found very amusing. "And you know, we should really have another child. Since this one," he elbowed Anya on the shoulder, "obviously isn't doing much around the farm." He laughed loudly and obliviously to himself again, as everyone ignored and sat down at the table to finish up their orange juices.

"But what a beautiful child it will be. My charisma, Sayako's wisdom. The chivalry of the knight, the code of the ninja..." Jeremiah declared triumphantly and proudly, as Lelouch corrected under his breath that it was the code of the samurai. "And furthermore... Our halfling will surely defeat Villeta's halfling! At the very least, ours will have a sexy maid outfit and an even sexier eyepiece. And most of all, I have not forgotten my allegiance to you, Master Lelouch. Our heir will be the guardian of yours."

"It frightens me that those are the first reasons you have in mind for having a child. More importantly, what heir?"

"What are you saying, dear?" C.C. took the opportunity to slide her chair closer to his and leaned over until their bodies were almost touching (not that, as Lelouch noted from the amused expression that Sayako could barely contain, it looked as if there was any difference from a foot away). "Aren't we going to have a cute little boy named Ledouche after you?" She taunted playfully, facing the other members of the makeshift household and gesturing for them to play along.

"No, we're not!" Lelouch cried out in horror, jumping up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at the witch. "We're not even in that kind of relationship! And besides, I don't even know if you can reproduce! What kind of organs still work after a few hundred millennia?"

"You wound me," she pouted playfully, placing her hand over her chest in an offended gesture. "I'm only a few hundred years old. And my heart's still working, isn't it?"

"What heart?" was the fluid response, rehearsed from the many spats they had.

Calmly sipping her tea in the typical Japanese fashion (a hand around the cylindrical cup, a hand on the bottom), Sayako butted into the conversation. "The one you stole, obviously, Master Lelouch."

Completely aghast at the betrayal, Lelouch opened his mouth to offer a quick retort, and succeeded only in squeaking out a syllable (he never was one for oral debates anyways). The ninja maid, meanwhile, showed no change in expression. Horrified, Lelouch turned to Jeremiah, his loyal, trustworthy knight who would not betray him even on pain of death. Orange-kun quickly averted his eyes (yes, even the masked one) and coughed as a signal of apology. He could withstand pain of death, perhaps, but not pain of being force-fed pizza every meal.

"Anya!" the former hero cried out, lurching across the table to grab Anya's arms (still holding onto her iPhone). "You won't forsake me, will you? I'll buy you all the iPhone accessories you want!"

The only fruit of his labor was a blank stare. With a triumphant hmph, C.C. stood up and strolled over to Anya's side and embraced the girl, holding her head close to her chest. "Don't you know? I'm buying Anya a Blackberry and a laptop. She doesn't need your iPhone accessories."

With an indignant gasp, Lelouch stood up and stormed out of the tiny cottage, screaming about how the world was cruel and unjust and was his rebellion all for naught that everyone would side with a witch rather than him?

"Oops, I seem to have gotten him mad," C.C. contemplated aloud with a slight pout on her face, but without seeming all too worried (and even then, that was a gross exaggeration).

"Don't worry." Anya replied in her usual, not exactly comforting, monotone. "I'm reading a fanfiction right now called Orange Ever After. Lulu and shi-tsu make up."

Shi-tsu? Sheets? Jeremiah wondered to himself, completely confused by this inside joke.

"Oh, is that so? Hm. Well, I was going to go after him, but if it's fated to be anyways... There's no point in making an effort." She walked off to the phone, speed dialing Pizza Hut as usual.

Sayako nodded sagely, still enjoying her hot tea very much.

Jeremiah took a sip of his delicious homemade orange juice in a (failed) attempt to look cool.

Anya read kinky SuzaLulu yaoi on her phone.

Lelouch stood outside fuming about how nothing went his way, but quickly grew tired from stomping his feet and took a nap outside.

And all was right with the world. Except for the obvious questions surrounding Lelouch's resurrection which the author has very tactfully avoided up until she spilled the goddamn beans in the last sentence.