**AN: I don't own it. I'm not making any money off of it. A collection of oneshots of various lengths and genres focused around Mori and Haruhi (because they're my favorite)**

What Dreams May Come

A giggle caught his ear as he was finishing his morning practice.

He moved precisely through the last exercises of his set and breathed deeply.

Another muffled childish giggle. Mori allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards and turned towards the entrance to the dojo.

Dark eyes and a head of spiky dark hair peeked around the corner and Mori let amusement cross his face.

"hnnn" his smile widened and a grin appeared on the small face before a tiny body hurdled across the tatami mats and into Takashi's legs.

"Daddy!"

A low laugh rumbled across the room as the tall man grabbed his son and swung him up into the air.

"Kazuma-kun!" a feminine voice admonished from outside the room and Takashi watched with an affectionate smile as a very pregnant Haruhi appeared from the same direction their son had come. She regarded her husband, still in his hakama and holding a shinai in one hand and an upside-down Kazuma in the other, with amusement.

Kazuma smiled innocently, "Hi mommy."

"Uh-huh." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "Kazuma, we have rules about interrupting your father's practice."

"But he's finished! I didn't interrupt! Did I dad?" the boy craned his head up to look pleadingly at his father.

"You've been spending too much time with your uncles Kazu-kun. Looking pathetic isn't going to get you out of trouble with us. And you know it."

"But Kaoru-san and Hikaru-san said that…"

Takashi set his son down and ruffled his hair, "Listen to your mother." Resting his hand on the boy's head he steered him towards the door, "Tell grandma we'll be in for breakfast." Kazuma sped down the flagstone path that led through the garden.

"Are you sure another one is a good idea?" Haruhi asked wryly, standing with her hands braced on the small of her back and watching after their son who was tearing up the flagstone path towards the main house.

Takashi trailed one of his hands down her back, curling it around her to rest on her distended stomach and pull her towards him. When she raised her face in question he stole a quick kiss and smiled down at her, "I'm sure."

"Mori-senpai…" her voice was soft and she was smiling up at him.

"Mori senpai…" his vision was blurring around the edges and he shook his head in confusion. There was a moment of complete disorientation, and all of the sudden he was looking up at her. And why was her hair boyishly short again?

"Mori senpai, are you awake?" her head tilted slightly to the side, "it's time to go home…"

His confusion must have shown on his face…

"Host Club is over, you were pretty deeply asleep. I'm sorry I had to wake you."

"Hnn."

A dream, a fantastically realistic one, but a dream nonetheless. He could still feel the soft spring breeze coming in the window of his family's dojo. The dojo that his dream had reproduced in excruciatingly accurate detail. The sense of peace and contentment that had run through the dream world was slowly giving way to embarrassment to have one of the key objects of that dream offering him a friendly, albeit bemused smile.

"Are you alright Mori-sempai? Your face is sort of flushed," he saw one of her hands twitch as if she wanted to reach out to feel for herself if he was feverish.

"Oh Haruhi! My Sweet Daughter! Your concern for others is so endearing!"

Mori watched as the gentle worry on Haruhi's face dropped into the familiar studied and long-suffering apathy characteristic of her reactions to most of the Host Club theatrics.

"Please stop smushing my face Sempai."

Mori watched quietly as she was once more swept away into the insanity of the Host Club. He lived his life in contemplation, but in life, as in Kendo, the time came when one had to stop strategizing and strike. Perhaps the time had come for him to make his move.

--END—

*Peace Y'all*