Disclaimer: I don't own SnK

It was a hot, muggy night in June, and Mikasa Ackerman was gladder than ever when she completed the five-minute walk from the bus-stop to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend. Her suitcase rolled to a smooth stop behind her as she stood at the door, trying to unearth her keys from her purse as quietly as she could. It was three in the morning, and she didn't feel like waking up any of her overly-vocal neighbours and having to deal with them.

She could hear the air-conditioner rattling away in the bedroom the moment she stepped into the house, separated as she was from it by a door and the entire length of the apartment. She dropped her keys onto the small table next to the door and unfolded her feet from her heels, before moving quietly over to the kitchen on blessed flat ground. Her dog lay by the kitchen door, his head lolling against the smooth wood panels. He looked up when she came in, and thumped his tail in greeting, softly padding over to her and pushing around her legs. She had come in late from enough business trips for them to have a routine set out between them, and he knew not to make any noise when his mistress came home after the sky had darkened. Once she had settled him back at his spot near the door, she went on to the bedroom where the rattling got louder and louder.

The cat was lying against the bedroom door; it usually slept in the bedroom, but clearly the air-conditioning was too much for the poor creature and it had slunk out of the room to sleep in the warmth instead. She opened the door carefully, and stepped over the cat, welcoming the blast of cold wind that greeted her. She shut the door quickly before the cat could wake up and let out a dreadful wail into the night, and started to undress even as the air started to chill her.

She'd complained about the air-conditioner to Rivaille several times, about how it was old and noisy and had the propensity to keep her up half the night whenever they turned it on. But he kept it out of a rare streak of sentiment, and the argument that however old it was, it still worked, and anyway, the noise added character to it. Never mind that their salaries could easily get them a new air-conditioner without any sacrifice on either of their parts, or that the rest of the apartment was as sterile as things could get and had no character to it whatsoever. Every time she brought the matter up, though, he'd end it by telling her that he'd replace the air-conditioner when she replaced the ratty old scarf she always wore around her neck. Neither of them seemed inclined to take the first step, and so it was that she hung up her old red scarf next to the air-conditioner which continued rattling away.

She climbed into the bed next to the lump of comforter that was already there, then pulled the rest of it over herself as well. The house was in two different extremes of temperature—it was boiling outside the room, but now that she was inside it, she might as well have been in the Arctic. She looked down at her boyfriend, who had, surprisingly, slept through her coming in. Granted, she had taken extreme care to keep quiet like she always did, but he was usually alert against thieves and robbers even in his sleep and woke up whenever she came home. He must have been really tired that night, she reflected, burrowing herself into the covers.

Unlike how books normally described people, his features didn't slacken even in sleep. His face was as sharp as ever, all angled cheekbones and a strong jawline, his mouth set in a firm frown and a constant furrow between his eyes, probably dreaming about different ways to yell at and demean his employees the next day.

Just as she was finally getting warm and comfortable, he stirred next to her and took a deep breath, opening his eyes and glaring at her sternly.

"Your feet and fingers are freezing. Get them off me." He gave no indication that he had been sleeping just moments before, instead just moving her limbs off him with very calculated moves.

"I come back from a 2 week business trip and this is how you greet me?" She demanded, forcing her fingers and feet back on him. If he was going to be so tetchy, then he deserved to suffer while she warmed herself up.

"Welcome home. Now, get off me; your extremities are sucking the warmth right out of me. Did you wash up before getting into bed, by any chance?"

"No," she said petulantly. "I was tired and I just wanted to sleep."

"Tch. I'll have to wash the sheets tomorrow before going to work." Then, his eyes softened as he turned to her. "How come you're back? I thought you were supposed to be in Berlin for a couple more days,"

"I managed to get them to finish everything on the agenda early," she told him, her fingers fidgeting under the sheets as she tried to get them warm. "Then I took an earlier flight home because I missed the rice back here,"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You forced your people to overwork so you could come back home early to eat rice?"

"Hey, I didn't overwork them," she said defensively. "They have the ability to do everything more efficiently; it's hardly my fault that they don't usually do the best they can. I'm just helping them to realise their full potential."

"Well, I hope you left them in Berlin to enjoy the next two days as best as they can without any work to worry about or you breathing down their necks,"

"It's not something you would do, but yes, I left them there to have a short vacation," she scowled at him.

Sighing, he caught her fidgeting fingers underneath the comforter and kept them still in his hands. "I expect you're going back to work tomorrow?"

"Of course," she scoffed. "I came back here early for the rice and to keep everyone in line,"

"You should probably get some sleep, then," he said sternly, reaching over to shut her eyelids with his hand. "Or you're going to be useless in the office tomorrow."

"I'd still be more useful than half the people in there," she mumbled, but kept her eyes shut anyway, turning into him.

She could feel sleep weighing down on her, releasing all her tension and pent-up energy in the past couple of weeks as her muscles relaxed. She tried to tell him "goodnight," but all that made it out of her mouth was a vague mumble as she sank into sleep, her fingers curled into his hands and feet tucked and tangled with his.