Domestic Affairs

A/N: Thank you for clicking on "Domestic Affairs" my first attempt at Halo fiction. This is hopefully going to become a selection of Halo-related short stories; set in a time after the Human/Covenant war has ended. It's main characters; the Arbiter and the Master Chief attempt to tackle a world where their combat-talents are obsolete. This isn't a slash, the Chief and the Arbiter are merely friends… well, associates… or maybe just people that can stand to share the same planet with one another. I hope I've managed to keep them somewhat in character. Please remember to R&R because I'd appreciate constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Halo universe.

1. Fanfiction

The Arbiter pursed his mandibles thoughtfully and peered at the screen in front of him.

Shifting uncomfortably in the human-seat he was perched (by only a small margin) on, he twisted his head around on his lengthy neck and bellowed, "Demon! Come here, if you would."

"What is it?" Spartan 117, the Master Chief, entered the computer suite with an SMG slung careless over his shoulder.

"Ever heard of Fanfiction?" The Arbiter swung back to face the screen. "There is quite a large amount of it on your web of communications."

"Internet," the Chief sighed, setting his SMG down on a nearby table and sinking into a chair, which gave an ominous creak. "It's called the Internet. And yes, I've heard that some of the younger marines have an interest in Fanfiction. What about it?"

"You haven't perused it yourself?" The Arbiter's mandibles quirked at the corners.

"Not so much."

"You really should, it's quite fascinating." Enthused the Arbiter.

"It's the product of people with too much time on their hands and far too many ideals about pointless subjects." The Master Chief surreptitiously peered over the Arbiter's shoulder.

"Really?" The Arbiter continued, oblivious, "I believe that the craft of finely honing literature is an art form in itself." The Arbiter turned slowly, and the Chief quickly tried to look disinterested. "Do you think people will ever craft fiction about us someday Demon?"

"What?"

The Arbiter sighed, "you know, the Covenant, humanity, the battles you've fought, the foes I've vanquished. Such thing's may pass into the hands of fiction writers everywhere, possibly even forging new legacies for us."

"New legacies?" The Chief sounded dubious. "Like what?"

"Well…" The Arbiter sought for a subject, "possibly battles that haven't happened, but we could have easily participated in. Maybe they could enforce certain pairings between us and OC's." He noticed the Chief's look (in spite of the fact he still had his helmet on). "That is; Original Characters created by the writer. I've learnt some of the lingo."

"I don't think I could feature in a romance." Snorted the Chief. "If you didn't know, Spartans are asexual."

"All the more reason why a romance must exist only in fiction." The Arbiter smirked. "How about you and Cortana then? A suitable match I'd assume?"

"What?" The Chief's normally emotionless voice held a faint trace of trepidation. "That's impossible."

"And why would that be?" A flickering in one of the holographic terminals in the corner of the room eventually formed into the shapely violet avatar of Cortana. Her arms were crossed and expression of annoyance flickered across her features.

"How long have you been listening?" The Master Chief growled.

"Long enough." Cortana's frown gave way to a playful smirk, one that easily matched the Arbiter's. "So, what's wrong with me? Am I unattractive?"

"I never said that." The Chief grunted. "To the regular soldier your avatar is… nice in appearance. But I'm not at all interested in how you look. Also, you're a hologram."

"Exactly." Said the Arbiter expansively. "A relationship without touching. Purely romantic in… well maybe not romantic, possibly a relationship… hmmm, what do you call a relationship that neither party can love, touch or fantasize about?"

"A professional one." Said the Chief. "But… what about you?" He asked, sounding as if he was only vaguely interested. "Anyone you could be paired with?"

"I highly doubt it."

"Oh?" Said the Chief airily. "How about that Commander Half-Jaw? You two seem pretty close."

"What?" The Arbiter yelped. "That's preposterous! He is a male of my species!"

"Are you?" Asked Cortana.

"Indeed I am." The Arbiter growled. "The very idea of a female in the armada is absol…" He suddenly noticed Cortana's scowl. "…lutely genius suggestion. I shall have to speak with the High Commander about it. Don't know why we never thought of that before."

"To be honest, how do you know which of you are female?" Asked the Master Chief.

"You jest, correct?" Said the Arbiter incredulously. "Is it not obvious? No? Really? Very well, I suppose to the untrained eye the most notable feature of the female Sangheili is the vivid plume that sprouts from her brow. Did you not know this?"

"No." Admitted the Chief and Cortana simultaneously.

"Possibly we'd better let this subject drop." Offered the Arbiter.

"Yes, before someone suggests you two should pair off." Said Cortana jokingly.

The Arbiter and Master Chief turned and stared at her.

An awkward silence followed as the two turned and faced one another.

Then burst out laughing.

It wasn't so much laughter, more as a cacophony that attempted to sound like laughter.

The Chief's laugh was more of a snicker, and Cortana doubted that he'd ever laughed out loud in his life, while the Arbiter's laugh was hushed but accompanied by the sound of his mandibles colliding and providing a sinister clicking noise.

When the two had finally subsided, Cortana smirked, "so, are the two fiction 'experts' going to suggest anything else this evening?"

"How about a fiction that isn't about war." The Arbiter's voice took on a wistful tone. "A place where all races across the galaxy live in relative peace and plenty and there is no turmoil. A place where even the Flood can be welcomed as brothers." He noticed the Master Chief and Cortana staring at him.

"I… don't think anyone would read that." Said Cortana carefully. "Strife and conflict keep people interested."

"And I've witnessed the Flood first hand, and no one would welcome them in any form of fiction, no matter how farfetched." Added the Chief.

"I suppose." The Arbiter admitted sadly. He shut down the computer he'd been working from. "Still, I believe your fiction has certainly taught me something of human nature."

"Like a willingness to persevere when there are people who show an interest in what you do?" Offered Cortana.

"That people fantasize about situations they can never be a part of?" Added the Chief.

"No, more that, if you give them a means, humans will write about anything." The Arbiter smirked.

"Now that's hardly fair," protested Cortana as the Chief and Arbiter made their way towards the door, "I've read through the database and there are some very well written works."

The Chief turned, standing on the door's threshold. "How long did it take you to read the entire database?"

"A few seconds." Cortana shrugged. "Why?"

"No reason." The Chief tapped in the access code and the automatic door hissed closed after him.

"You know demon." The Arbiter mused. "What if we wrote some fiction of our own?"

"Why would we do that?" The Chief asked dubiously.

"Well, with the war ended, there is little left for us to do. Therefore we have the time." Said the Arbiter matter-of-factly. Then he grinned. "And if there is fiction written about us I'd like to make sure it was done right."