Title: Centerfolds
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Macross Frontier.
Summary: Sheryl Nome was everything a man could ever want, so why would Saotome Alto still be interested in cheap centerfold models?

---

Sheryl Nome passed by Alto's open bedroom, only to take a step back. She blinked in disbelief at what she was seeing. Saotome Alto was sitting on his bed…ogling at something in a magazine. His eyes were focused on whatever was on the glossy print, shining with awe and wonder. His cheeks were bright pink and made his face look like a young girl in shoujo mangas which he openly despised. But what disturbed and irked Sheryl Nome the most was that stupid grin on his face and the trail of drool in the corner of his mouth. Sheryl frowned with obvious displeasure. So looking at scantily-clad women in dirty magazines was more appealing to him than looking at his perfectly voluptuous girlfriend? She fumed.

"Saotome Alto!" She yelled.

He didn't even flinch.

Sheryl's hands clenched into fists, her face burning with anger. How dare he ignore her like that! This was unacceptable! Sheryl Nome was everything a man could ever want, so why would Saotome Alto still be interested in cheap centerfold models? Letting out a huff of anger, Sheryl Nome stomped off to her room. She would show him!

Minutes later, she returned to his open doorway, wearing a very provocative dress. She leaned against the doorjamb in a seductive manner.

"Alto…" She called out, her voice oozing with sweetness.

No movement.

Sheryl twitched with irritation but kept her composure.

"Alto," She tried again, "what do you think of my dress?" She rested a hand on her hip. This time, Alto looked up. Sheryl smiled in success but that smile quickly wiped off when Alto's head dove back down to his magazine as quick as a blink.

"Yeah, it's nice," he said noncommittally.

Sheryl felt all her anger rising up to her face. She walked over to Alto who continued to ogle at his precious magazine. Her legs brushed at his knees in their new proximity. Sheryl decided to give her seduction another try. With an impish smile she slid down and kneeled on the floor, her upper body leaning against his legs, her hands on his lap. She placed her head on his thigh and began sliding her hands up and down the sides of his lean legs.

"Alto…"

"Hm."

"Let's do something productive."

"Hm."

"Something you'll definitely like..."

"Hm."

"Do you find me attractive?"

"Hm."

"Really?"

"Hm."

"Alto, why don't you put down that magazine?"

"Hm."

"I'll show you something you'll definitely find more interesting."

"Hm."

"I might even be tempted to let you handle the whip this time…"

"Hm."

" –Or let's go take a nice ride in your craft…"

"Hm."

"…and I don't mean a trip in the sky."

"Hm."

"Alto…"

"Hm."

"Are you listening to everything I'm suggesting?"

"Hm."

"Alto."

"Hm."

"I'm pregnant."

"Hm."

"…and it's not yours."

"Hm."

"WHAT?!"

"So I finally have your attention, huh?"

Alto glared down at Sheryl, looking angry and relieved at the same time. "That wasn't funny!"

Sheryl held his glare with her own, her hands clenching on his lap.

"Being ignored isn't exactly a hoot either!"

"What?"

"Who's on the centerfold?!"

"What are you?!"—

"Is it Miranda Meilin?"

"HUH?!"

"I get it! You prefer someone with a fake tan!"

"Sheryl"—

"You get hot looking at someone in cheap glossy paper than getting exclusiveness on me, is that it?"

"Sheryl, you"—

"Do you imagine your magazine beauties whenever you touch me?"

"Sheryl, what the hell are you talking about?!"

Angrily, Sheryl got up on her feet and stabbed a finger on Alto's chest. "Don't play stupid! I'm talking about that magazine of yours!"

Alto blinked. "Eh?"

"You've been drooling over it and ignoring me!"

"That's it?" The tone in Alto's voice seemed to mock at Sheryl.

"Humph! It's obvious you don't care about me! So go ahead and continue to slobber over your cheap printed women. I won't disturb you!"

Alto rolled his eyes at her dramatic display. "Sheryl." He halted her from taking a step out.

"What? Need a tissue for when you jerk off?"

Alto's eye twitched at that.

"Before you go, Sheryl, why don't you have a look at my printed women?"

She spun around, looking extremely pissed. Without a word, she walked over to him in a violent motion and snatched the magazine from his hands. She bore her eyes at the centerfold, wondering what kind of model attracted all of Alto's attention away from her. What she saw however wasn't what she had expected.

"Alto, what the hell is this?!"

"What do you think it is?"

"It's just a bunch of planes!"

"Hey! Those are the latest models of Variable Fighters! Luca let me have an exclusive look."

"S-so all this time, you've been drooling over…over these things?!"

"One of the latest VFs has a built-in"—

"I DON'T CARE IF IT HAS CUP HOLDERS!" She threw the magazine in his face. "Gee, Alto. You really paint the image of the idiotic boyfriend who's more in love with his plane in a particular song really perfectly!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means what it means!"

"Really now…"

"Goodbye—hey, what are you doing?!"

"Quit squirming!"

"Let me go—ah!"

A soft thud on the bed.

"Alto, what are you doing?"

"Tell me, Sheryl. For a guy who's too in love with his VF as you say, what do you think of this?"

"Ah! Alto, what are you doing—aah!"

...

"Ahhh…"

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?"