Notes: Yes, yes, yes. I've decided to once again take a break from insanity, darkness, and death (the last time I did this was a Yuffie/Sora fic so saccharine that it drained my will to live) to write something...ugh...happy. Heck, I might not even swear as much as normal. See? I wrote "heck" there. I don't even say "heck" around my little sister. The sad bit is that they say far worse in Disgaea itself. It's ironic, fools.

Sweat dripped down Laharl's brow as his hand rested on the doorknob to Flonne's quarters. Obviously, the polite thing to do would be to knock before entering, but Laharl, Overlord of the Netherworld, was nothing if polite.

Laharl took his hand off the knob to rub his side. It was more of a stalling tactic than anything else, but he was still somewhat sore from his fight with that kid with the glasses. Little brat thought that just because his father was the Overlord it meant he was...oh, wait.

Thinking that he was now sufficiently annoyed, Laharl ran through how the whole thing was going to go in his head. He gathered a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hey, Love Freak!" he shouted as he kicked open the door and slouched in the frame.

"Ah, Laharl!" Flonne said as she quickly covered up her chest, despite being fully clothed. Laharl figured it must be some kind of feminine reflex.

"Hey, I'm the Overlord and I expect to be called that!" he growled as he inspected his claws nonchalantly. Ordering people around is what an Overlord does best.

"Oh, yes, Overlord Laharl, did you need something?" Flonne asked, her eyes widening in happiness.

"Ha!" he laughed casually. "As if I could ever need something from you! I was just about to have dinner and thought you might enjoy the honor of sharing my table. We're giving a tour to some honor students from another Netherworld, so I had the castle prepare a banquet for the occasion."

Flonne's eyes lit up in anticipation. "Oh, I knew that hosting those honor students was going to go well! It was such a good idea, Overlord Laharl!"

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" he said, grinning slyly. She had even remembered to call him "Overlord!" Things were looking up.

"Except, oh, Overlord Laharl, I don't know what I should wear!" Flonne frantically started searching through her closet, passing by dozens of (it seemed to Laharl) identical white dresses.

"No need to worry, I've already prepared something," Laharl said as he snapped his fingers. A couple of Prinnies waddled up to him and handed him two cases. He tossed one of them to Flonne. "I think this dress should fit you nicely."

She took it out and gasped. "It's so beautiful! Thank you, Overlord Laharl!" she said ecstatically as she held the black lace against herself and danced in place. "And the spiderweb collar is lovely!"

Laharl smiled as he took out his new cape and offered Flonne his hand. "All right, then, we should get going!"

"Oh, Overlord Laharl!" she cried, and hugged him. "Please marry me!"

He sighed and patted the back of her head. "Oh, well, if you insist."

Then they got married, and their children conquered the universe.

Yeah, that was how it all played out in Laharl's head. Which is odd, considering the fact that a good deal of all that had absolutely no basis in reality. But that's Laharl for you. What actually happened was quite a bit less...smooth.

"Hey, Love Freak!" he shouted as he kicked open the door and slouched in its frame.

This was met with silence.

Even though Laharl knew that looking cool involved rarely, if ever, making eye contact with the person you're talking to, he risked a glance around the room, and quickly ascertained that Flonne wasn't actually there.

Her room was, of course, large and splendid, he'd made sure of that once he'd convinced her to stay with him (though not as large or splendid as his own, naturally), but he could see that she'd been hard at work with giving the place her personal touches. The bloody wallpaper had been stripped away and replaced with a baby blue, and in place of skull candelabras, there was a chandelier dripping with prisms that refracted colorful light all around the room.

Of course, the occupant of the room was still a resident of the Netherworld, and Laharl was pleased to see that it showed. A collection of shrunken heads sat on the dresser, and the vanity mirror was definitely of succubus design. How could you tell? Well, I'll leave it to your imagination.

The poster bed was probably what attracted Laharl's attention the most. It was large, far larger than it needed to be for Flonne's size, and it stood a good foot higher off the ground than Flonne was tall, making Laharl imagine her having to literally climb into her bed. It was definitely a far cry from the coffin he slept in, and he could swear he felt a headache coming on just from contemplating how soft it must have been.

Laharl tapped his foot impatiently and called out Flonne's name. Still no reply.

"Ah, whatever!" he said to nobody. Crossing his arms in impatience, he started pacing around the room. Five minutes later, there was no sign of anyone.

Since he had spent a good two days planning on how best to ask Flonne to come to dinner, Laharl wasn't in the best of moods, nor was he at his best physically. By which I mean to say, he hadn't slept for a while, and that bed was just so invit- hideous, so hideous that it couldn't be all that bad, after all a bed's a bed, right?

And before Laharl knew it, he'd clambered up onto Flonne's bed and collapsed onto one of her enormous pillows. It was stuffed with harpy down. Sensing how ridiculous he must have looked, Laharl looked around the bed and saw a large stuffed Prinny doll. He quickly punched it. Since he now had the pretense of having come onto the bed to victimize something, Laharl promptly fell asleep, a distant part of him realizing that, should Flonne return to see him like this, he'd never be able to live it down.

"Um, Laharl?"

Oh, that was not a good sign.

"Laharl?"

The Overlord opened his eyes and was greeted by the blurry face of his angelic comrade. Wasn't there something he'd come in here to say? Too late, he'd just have to wing it and hope he could save face somehow. "What?"

"Um, why are you in my bed?" Flonne lifted a hand to his forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

As if being in such close proximity to her wasn't enough, her actual touch was simply too much for Laharl. He jerked away from her hand and hid his blush by turning away and pretending to stretch. "I'm fine! I was just wondering how anyone could stand to sleep in such a gross bed as this!"

Flonne giggled behind him. "Well, you seemed to be enjoying it. I was watching you sleep for an hour or so before I woke you up. You were so cute!"

Dangit. Overlords were not supposed to be cute. "I was not!" he retorted, summoning all his sagacity. "You're just a weirdo! Who watches somebody else sleep, anyway?"

She just kept laughing. Laharl only got the nerve to look back at her after she'd stopped. "So, what do you want?"

"Um, if you came into my room, shouldn't I be asking that question?"

Laharl cursed at himself in his head. Obviously! Another mistake like that, and he might just call the whole thing off. "Yeah, well, you must have had something you wanted when you woke me up. And since I'm the Overlord and listen to the will of the People, you go first."

"Oh, well," said Flonne, "I was wondering what you were doing in my bed."

Feeling another blush coming on, Laharl snapped, "And I already told you. Anything else?"

"Oh, yes!" Flonne brightened immensely as she grabbed Laharl's hand. "You remember how I invited those honor students from the other Netherworld for a tour?"

"Um, yeah, I think I remember you mentioning that," he replied, trying subtly to get her to let go of him.

"Well, I talked to the kitchen staff, and they said that they were going to have a banquet in their honor, and I was hoping you'd sit with me!"

Wait, what?

That was exactly what he'd come in here to ask her about. Only, she'd suggested it.

So it just wouldn't do.

"As if!" he said. "An Overlord such as myself can only dine with royalty, like that glasses kid!"

It would someone of average intelligence to predict Flonne's reaction to this. So naturally Laharl was shocked when she looked crestfallen. "Oh...I just thought that since you're always fighting with Mister Mao, you might like to sit by me instead..."

"D-Don't be ridiculous!" he said, louder and more forceful than he really meant. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, because he could see the shimmer in Flonne's eyes that meant she was holding back tears. "I mean," he began, and immediately saw Flonne perk up, "I mean if you're gonna be all by yourself, then I guess we can share a table."

"Oh," she said, "I wouldn't be alone. There's Etna, and Miss Jennifer, and Mister Alma-"

"I mean," he said, starting to panic. "If that Mao kid starts to get on my nerves, then I'll come over after I beat on him a little. No sense destroying dinner just because he's being annoying." And, although he would never, ever admit it, Laharl did get just a bit jealous on the rare occasions Flonne brought up that Almaz brat.

All of Flonne's joy was back in full force. "Thank you, Laharl!" she said as she finally let go of his hand and jumped off the bed. "Now, what should I wear...?"

Now was Laharl's big chance! He could get the best tailors in the Netherworld to make them the best outfits imaginable, but...Laharl's mouth moved too fast for his brain's liking. "Just wear what you usually do. You look good already."

At that point, every living creature across the entire universe, every demon, angel, human, and monster that happened to be drinking something at the time, did a spit-take.

Flonne turned to Laharl in utter amazement, and Laharl realized a second too late that he had, in fact, just said what he though out loud. There was no way to possibly conceal the blush on his face, and no way that even someone as dense as Flonne could construe what he had just said as anything but a compliment. Still, he had a reputation to uphold. "I-I-I mean, there's nothing you could do to possibly look better!" he spat, trying (and failing) to add the appropriate amount of sarcasm. Seeing the blush and heartfelt smile on Flonne's face, he stormed out of the room, only taking the time to yell back "Don't be late!"

Laharl slammed the door as hard as he could and managed to walk a few feet before his knees gave out, and he tripped onto a wall before sliding down it.

Flonne sat down on her bed, the smile refusing to come off her face.

Laharl had gone in with the intent to make Flonne pursue him, and it had ended with his playing all his cards face-up.

Flonne had come home that day with the goal of getting Laharl mostly to herself at dinner that night.

For a moment, all was silent. After a few seconds went by, the same thought crossed the minds of both of them.

Good enough.

Ech, I feel like I just took an ipecac, and this was the result. Don't worry, I'll be back to Higurashi, Silent Hill, murder, and despair soon enough.

Unless, like, you want me to continue this for a bit. It's...it's not like I want to, but if you insist...