Title: Harassing the Hime
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Macross Frontier.
Summary: Alto is being sexually harassed. 2 part story.

A/N: Happy New Year! (Yes, I'm late for saying that)

It was peaceful…and by peaceful, meaning boring. Things had gotten dull. All thanks to a certain hime who decided he didn't want to be exclusively touched by his hot-ass boss. The raises and bonuses had stopped altogether with the bubbling fun, much to everyone's dismay.

Also, everyone noted how different Sheryl had become. She was distant and cold. Too cold. She would jump into harsh criticisms at the smallest mistake made and give everyone a hard stare that meant business and only business. She no longer joined the other female employees and Bobby to talk about the juiciest tidbits and gossip. She became Sheryl Nome, their boss. Only their boss.

In the cafeteria, a certain hime was trying to pinpoint what was making him uncomfortable—besides the daggering glares directed at him. If looks could kill, Alto would have died a hundred times over. He took a seat at the table with Michel and Luca, his tray carelessly clattering on the tabletop.

"Oi, careful, hime! You almost got some of that nasty sauce on my suit." Michel scolded, hell be damned if his spotless charming appearance be marred.

"Oh…uhh, sorry."

Luca was chewing on his sandwich, observing his girl-faced sempai in wonder. Sheryl-san isn't the only one acting weird, was the thought on the shouta boy's mind. Alto had been acting absent-minded recently. …Then again his mind has always been absent.

"Alto, what's with your eye bags? Girls should learn to take better care of their beauty." Michel mocked with a grin, fully expecting Alto to explode in expletives.

But he didn't.

Michel's eyes widened in horror. Luca's mouth hung open, the chewed up contents in his mouth visible. Alto not reacting violently to being made fun of as a girl might as well have signaled the coming of the destruction of the universe. It was just simply unnatural!

"Alto!" Michel grabbed Alto's arm and shook it like a ragdoll. "Are you okay?! Are you sick?!"

Luca stood up, his chair crashing on the floor. "Sempai, should I get the company medic?!" Foodstuffs were flying off from Luca's mouth as managed to get the words out.

"Call the damn ambulance, you fool!" Michel instructed with no-nonsense seriousness and evident panic.

Then, as if it registered on Alto's mind that two people were making a big fuss and shaking his arm off, he looked at Michel with a questioning gaze.


Michel slapped Alto's head. Alto's face landed on his plate of spaghetti.

"You idiot! You made us worry!"

Luca was crying, unable to hold back the tears from his earlier fright. "I thought…sempai was…I was really scared!"

Alto did not respond to either of the two's outbursts. In fact, he didn't even bother to lift his head up from his lunch. It was almost like he enjoyed having his face smeared to spaghetti. Michel pulled his head up by his ponytail. Luca was still crying shouta tears.

"Alto, what the hell is wrong with you? Ever since you broke it off with Sheryl, you've become a mindless zombie." He paused in careful consideration to what he said. "On second thought, you were already mindless to begin with. You've just been a zombie." He was still holding on to Alto's ponytail, knowing fully well if he let go, Alto's face would land splat-back into his spaghetti. Luca was finally doing something useful than crying shouta tears by cleaning up Alto's face with his shouta handkerchief.

"Sempai, you really haven't been yourself. What's bothering you?"

Again, Alto did not bother to respond.

Alto was walking down the hall, completely lethargic. That uncomfortable feeling was still tingling in his body. It would not go away. He gritted his teeth in frustration. What the hell was wrong with him?!


Alto took his sweet ass time turning around to find a group of intimidating male employees in a menacing stance. But Alto didn't even flinch, which only irked the group.

"You pitiful excuse of a man!" Someone, identified to be the leader, spoke out while pointing an angry finger at Alto. "Who the hell do you think you are to refuse Sheryl-san?!"

Alto squinted. Was that Matsushi--err Maruyama…M-something? The name escaped Alto. But he knew that the young crazed and rabid guy before him was dubbed to be Sheryl's number one fan. Obsessed number one fan… The rest looked to be just as obsessed as their leader.

"Because of you…" M-something pointlessly rambled. "Sheryl-san isn't acting like the Sheryl-san we love!"

"That's right!" Came the choruses of the other males.

"We also idolized you, Saotome! We lived our dreams and fantasies through you! But because of what you did, Sheryl-san—oi! Are you even listening?!"

No. Alto was not. He had problems of his own. He was finding his own body very uncomfortable--most especially after they kept spouting out Sheryl's name like that. Deculture (and in a negative way)! What the hell was happening to him?

"Lay off. You guys are annoying." Alto muttered.

"That's right. Shouldn't all of you be off doing something useful like your jobs?"

Alto stiffened at the voice. He didn't need to turn around to see that it was Sheryl standing behind him. Her fanclub panicked.

"Sheryl-san!" M-something yelped in puppy-to-please delight. "We were—"

Alto could envision Sheryl narrowing her eyes at her sharp interruption. "Getting back to work, I believe." The tone suggested they do just that. Everyone scrambled in a hurry. Alto was all alone in the now-quiet hall with his boss.

Sheryl cleared her throat. "Saotome-san?"

Alto turned to face her. She looked different. Very different… Her eyes looked like ice. Cold. Icy. She looked intimidating as opposed to the warmth she had always radiated before. She looked like a person who never felt happiness or any kind of positive emotion. Alto found the change, mildly put, overwhelming.

"Shouldn't you be going off to work as well?" Her brusque tone meddled in his thoughts. "If you have time to stand and chitchat with the other employees, then surely you must have time to"—

"I wasn't chitchatting!" Alto voiced out, earning a skeptical raise of her golden brow. "Well then, you should"—her brows furrowed. Her eyes suddenly scrutinizing his face, then without warning, she began approaching him. Alto held his breath in anticipation. The clicking sound of her heels made his heart beat faster as she came closer. She stopped. Sheryl was close. Very close. The tingling feeling became stronger.

"Saotome-san…" He could feel her breath. "You have sauce on your cheek."

She reached out to his stained cheek. Alto gasped at the feel of her fingertips. How long had it been since Sheryl touched him? He could not remember… He gazed down on her face and he saw it. That look... That look of wonder, excitement and pure ecstasy that sparkled in her eyes… He had always seen it when he was pinned to her desk. She would look so blissfully happy when she touched and explored his body like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. She would keep telling him, as she roamed in his intimate places, that she was so lucky, so very lucky to be able to touch him like this… Back then, Alto had been too busy struggling, protesting and screaming to appreciate the loveliness of her flushed face and enchanting smile. But now…warmth stirred inside of Alto, feeling alive again, slowly with each stroke of her fingertips.

Unfortunately, it was short-lived.

"There, it's gone…"

She withdrew her hand, almost too quickly. With a curt nod, she walked off, leaving Alto very…cold.

"Withdrawal symptoms?!"

Canaria, the medic, nodded. "That's the best that I can come up with."

Michel still could not believe it. "Withdrawal symptoms…from harassment?!"

Canaria nodded again, stuffing her hands inside the pockets of her lab gown.

"Alto has been harassed so much and so frequently that his body has believed it to be a sort of daily need like food and water."

Michel rolled his eyes. Screwing with a hot babe does that to everyone.

"Right now, his body is adjusting from the lack of Sheryl intervention. He'll be back to normal soon, so I wouldn't worry."

Luca didn't look convinced hearing that, so did Michel.

Alto was staring into the monitor. Staring blankly at the landscape wallpaper on the screen. He had been doing so for the past—10? 15? 20 minutes or so… His mind was swallowed up with thoughts of the hallway encounter with Sheryl. Sheryl. Her face. Her touch. Her—

He shook his head. This had to stop.

"Oi, Alto."


Alto spun his chair to meet his cubicle visitors. He raised a hand at them in acknowledgment.

"Michel. Luca. What can I do for you?"

There was no usual humor to be found in Michel's face. The obligatory shouta blush-on also could not be found on Luca's shouta face as well. Alto's curiosity was piqued. This had to be serious.

"Is anything wrong?"

Michel grumbled something of "oblivious idiot," then without so much as a warning, Michel swung his leg back and kicked Alto's shin. The result was a painful and animalistic howl. Luca was biting his lower lip, empathizing with the blue-haired man's pain. Alto was frothing at the mouth, eyeing Michel with anger.


An evil "kira" flashed on Michel's face as he smirked. "Three reasons. One, because me and Luca miss your barbaric behavior, two, because you turned down a hot babe like Sheryl and three, because, after all this time, I'm still pissed that you aren't a girl."

Alto twitched at the third reason. He sat there, nursing his injured leg while glaring at Michel.

"I already told you guys!" He seethed, "I didn't enjoy being made a toy!"

Michel 's brow shot up, saying "yeah, right" in a non-verbal manner. Luca was looking down at the floor like he could see the most awesomest thing in the world. Their mannerisms infuriated Alto. He slammed his fist on his armrest. And, before Michel and Luca and to the ears surrounding the cubicle, Alto launched his latest rant entitled "Confessions of a hime".

"Why is everyone putting the damn blame on me?! Sheryl wasn't the victim, I was! I was sick of it! The same way as how I'm sick of not being able to sleep at night thinking about her, feeling her, dreaming about her! I'm sick of how my body reacts when I catch a glimpse of her or how my eyes shut thinking about her hands, imagining where it could be on my being! I hate the smile on my face when I lay in bed, pretending she would be on top of me, dominating my physical, mental and spiritual being! I'm sick of this! Of everything!"
(Saotome Alto, Confessions of a hime)

"Astounding, spellbinding…."
--Luca Angelloni (loli shouta extrordinaire)

"Sparked my (hu)manity."
--Michel Blanc (Playboy)

"…Broke my heart."
--Ranka Lee (MOE)

"5 stars. Beneath this loli body is a heart of a woman who understands."
--Klan Klan (I'm not a girl, already a woman)

"It enveloped me like the swirls of the milky galaxy…I'm sorry I cannot find the proper metaphor."
--Brera Sterne (Cyborg man)

"What a load of shit!"
--Ozma Lee (Basara fanboy)

--Bobby (like a virgin)

Alto was huffing and panting after letting all that out, his chest rapidly rising and falling. Michel and Luca just watched him. Then, identical grins cracked on their faces, scaring the shit out of Alto with all its creepiness.

"What the hell is"—

"Sempai is in lurve!" Luca cried out merrily, unable to help but twirl like a Bobby office girl.


"So Alto is actually capable of such feelings like love? What a strange world we live in."

Alto could not believe his ears. He would rather believe that Mr. Mishima's hair was a toupee that talks and flips than believe what he was hearing from his best-friends-turned-mentally-incapable-idiots.

"You think I'm in love with Sheryl?!"

"We don't think it, we know it." Michel said with a boyish smile that showed off his very white teeth that cost a fortune at the dentist. "You pretty much said it all."

"Sempai is in LURVE!" Luca went on, still twirling like a shouta. If he kept that up, he might as well go do figure skating with Bobby, thought Alto.

"You love her Alto. It explains everything." Michel said matter-of-factly.

"Why would I be in love with someone who harassed and abused me?!" Alto barked at his smug friend, who only turned smugger.

"Details, details…let's just say, she harassed herself into your heart…" He beamed, while taking mental notes to write a book about this. It would surely become a bestseller. Alto slumped in defeat at trying to make sense of all this. He let out a sigh.

"I can't be…" His mind rejected the very idea.

Michel placed a hand on Alto's shoulder sympathetically.

"Alto," he started, "can I ask you something?"


"You say you're sick of everything. You were sick of how Sheryl treated you. You hated her touch, how she handled you, so you led us all to believe…"

"What's your point?" Alto wanted to cut to the chase.

A thoughtful silence…

"Why do you still come here everyday?"

Suddenly, Alto's mind was very accepting.

It was very late and everyone went home except for one. Sheryl Nome was staying up late to work on a few reports. She didn't mind, it was not like she could sleep any better. It still hurt…and Sheryl Nome only had herself to blame for driving Alto away. She was disgusted and angry at herself. Alto hated her, a painful thing to accept when she felt the opposite towards him. Putting up a front of indifference was hard too. She remembered slipping her mask when she touched Alto's face. It awakened so many electrifying sensations… Tears stung, unshed. She missed him so much.

The lights went out. Sheryl jolted in panic. A black-out? What a way for fate to agree with her black mood.

She began shuffling papers when the door opened in the dark. She saw a distinctly masculine figure.

Must be the technician, Sheryl thought with optimism.

"Ozma, is that you?"

"It's me."

If it wasn't dark, Alto would see her mouth part in surprise; her expression would have been completely priceless. He closed the door behind him and clicked it lock. Sheryl just continued to gawk dumbfounded as he walked over to her desk.


He stopped, not right at the desk where it would serve as a barrier but right next to her. The city lights outside the panels of glass provided decent lighting. The lights mixed with the strange expression on his face. He looked like he had serious business. God…was he going to sue her or something? If so, why not wait tomorrow?

"Al—Saotome-san, what business do you have here?" She shifted into her professional business facade. Alto was unfazed and he did not respond. He just looked at her with that strange unmasked look in his eyes.

Unconsciously, Sheryl wrapped her arms around herself. She stood up from her chair and walked over to the glass that kept the outside from her office. "I think you should leave, Saotome-san. It's bad enough that your working performance has been disappointing but after checking out the reports that you made, you missed something"—

"I missed something all right."

She jumped when Alto wrapped his arms around her waist, his mouth on her neck.

"Saotome-san! What the hell are you! You have no right"—

"You have some nerve," he whispered mockingly in her ear "to talk like that after everything you did to me." He sneaked a hand inside the gap of her blouse. Sheryl arched back to his touch, the commotion in her body buzzing in pleasure and disbelief at Alto's actions. He pressed butterfly kisses on the side of her neck, then letting his tongue trail down as one hand stroked the front of her body while the other undid the buttons. She stifled a moan as Alto traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. Her legs felt limp, she felt like she was going to slide down in the floor any minute now.

Alto must have sensed this because the next thing she knew, she was pushed down on top of her own desk and looking up at the predatory face of Alto. He looked, to say the least, captivated by her.

Hesitantly, he brought a finger to her lips and traced its soft texture.

"Sheryl…" he whispered, his tone pleading. "I'd like to be your undersecretary again…"

Sheryl blinked in surprise and let out a startled gasp at his request before slowly breaking into a big smile.

"Well then…let's hope you'll be dedicated to this kind of work."

He smiled. "I am."

"Oh?" Sheryl played along, bringing her hands around his neck, relishing the feel beneath her fingertips. "Why do you say that?" She asked, choking a moan when Alto pressed his body closer.

His face was close, his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers.

"I already clocked in for work."

He kissed her then.

The rest of the night-turned-morning, Alto showed his boss how very dedicated he was to his work.