Well, hi. I wrote Ouran once before, and that was before I read the manga so it's a bit crap and a silly pairing. Yes, I am a manga purist. I do like the anime, but to me it's about 20% of Ouran at best. So much of this fandom is based on a mere 20% of the source material, and it makes me sad because I am chronically obsessed with Ouran because it is one of the best manga I have ever read EVER. Anyway.

I want to marry Tamaki, but I can't so this is the best I can do.

There was a reason that Haruhi kept a copy of divorce papers – which were incredibly easy to get hold of when you worked for a Law firm – in the top drawer of her desk.

That reason's name was Tamaki Suoh.

She wasn't ashamed to admit that there were times when, after locking the door to her office firmly and ignoring the combination of Tamaki's yells and Antoinette's furious barking outside, she ripped open that drawer and pulled out the papers, laying them flat on her desk and staring at the print until her eyes hurt. She knew all the words off by heart, so it wasn't so much reading as remembering.

Was having a four bedroom house entirely reupholstered in pink shag carpets and rose-patterned wallpaper grounds for a divorce? She didn't doubt that any sane judge would sympathise with her.

What about coming home to find three of the downstairs walls knocked out in order to create 'harmonious open-plan living space'? If they knew about the first floor almost collapsing as a result, and just how much it'd cost to repair the house, the judge would probably put the pen in her hand.

Or seven long years of being woken up at 6am regardless of any forces of humanity or nature alike? Even on their honeymoon, when they never went to sleep at a reasonable time in the first place.

Or the time he almost drowned her in an attempt to carry her to the bath (which was at least 50 percent flower petals and bubbles), and stepped on the soap, resulting in her being thrown across the room head-first into the tub and getting a concussion for her troubles as she hit the bottom.

Surely if she told them about how afterwards her husband saw fit to carry her outside to put into the ambulance without putting so much as a towel over her body, in spite of the fact that it had taken a good ten minutes for the emergency services to arrive and he had gotten dressed in that time.

What about how half of Tokyo General Hospital as a result knew what she looked like naked, thanks to him, because when a gurney wasn't available once they arrived Tamaki had decided that he would 'heroically' carry her to the A&E instead, and despite being told not to by the paramedics, the driver of the ambulance, and someone who was just outside to have a cigarette, he did it anyway.

Then, because she was concussed, it took her a good twenty minutes of sitting in the waiting room wondering why she was so cold before it occurred to her to groggily ask for his jacket to wear, at which point he noticed she was naked. The overwhelming state of panic he had been in had eclipsed that minor detail, and he didn't stop yelling until the doctor was ready to see her.

Once the doctor had stopped laughing, patted both of them on the head and said 'not to worry, he'd seen it all before', he told them that, yes, she had a concussion, no, she wasn't going to die, and the best thing to do was go home and get some rest.

She had, in one of the few moments of clarity she experienced during that time, concisely told him that what he said was 'an oxymoron in terms' and requested that she be admitted to the hospital for the night, adding to Tamaki that in spite of 'voving him lery vuch', could both of him please go away.

If she added that they had brought in a grief councillor after an hour because Tamaki wouldn't stop wailing and it was upsetting other patients, she was sure that the papers would be authorised there and then.

Even though he stayed at the hospital all night, while she was sleeping Tamaki came across an elderly woman who had gotten lost and forgotten where she was, so naturally he decided to help her. The only issue was that by the next morning he was nowhere to be found, and she couldn't be discharged on her own because of the concussion.

He was eventually discovered in the senior ward, as well as a piano, which he had somehow dragged all the way over from the games room without being stopped or questioned; he was totally immersed in playing everyone theme songs from their favourite dramas off the TV, by which time she had missed work. He'd told her she wasn't going to work with a concussion anyway and took her for to lunch at her favourite restaurant instead.

She was sure no divorce lawyer would try to resist proceedings if she told them about his proposal in the first place. How he managed to book out an entire amusement park and then fill it with paid actors – who at the moment of his proposing all simultaneously burst into song and released birds; his lack of foresight to think about the biological functions of a thousand-strong flock of birds being directly above their heads certainly put a downer on the moment. It was hard to feel romantic about an engagement ring when you were plastered with dove poop.

Maybe it had been kind of funny, and they'd laughed about it eventually, but his second proposal would be sure to convince anyone of the complete and total impossibility of being married to this man.

She had been rushing around the Aquarium trying to find him on the day in question, when she overheard some people running past her in the other direction talking about 'a madman who was scuba-diving in the main tank'. Obviously, she didn't need to think twice about who it would be, and arrived just as he'd finished writing his message on the glass of the viewing window with a permanent marker.

Of course, it hadn't occurred to him that the writing would be reversed from the other side, so it did in fact read 'IHURAH EM YRRAM', and after a while some of the more aggressive fish decided they didn't like this new intruder and started trying to bite him.

Watching the man who was meant to be proposing to her go up in a burst of bubbles as he spat out his breathing equipment in terror was not one of the proudest moments in Haruhi's life. Likewise neither was watching the fin he'd kicked off in a frenzy – while he shot upwards and was dragged out of the tank by five members of staff – sink slowly to the bottom and then being chewed on by a parrot fish.

She would have left the aquarium by herself if they hadn't needed guarantor to sign the document preventing her would-be fiancée from coming back to the aquarium ever again.

Even in spite of the last attempt, which was when he'd slipped the ringbox into her briefcase before she went to work, so it was only at her desk that she found the ring along with the note, which simply read 'I love you' on one side and 'Marry me' on the other – and a hopeful 'third time's a charm?' scrawled in at the bottom.

She'd been forced to spend half an hour in the bathroom as a result because she didn't want any of her co-workers to see her so worked up. It took at least ten minutes before her blush faded, and then after she looked at the note a second time she went red all over again.

Perhaps that had been romantic, adorable even, especially how he was curled up by the door practically in tears from the pressure when she got home. She rushed in so quickly she tripped straight over him, but she hadn't even hit the floor before she said 'yes'.

Antoinette, excited by other people being excited, decided she wanted to join in, and so the first kiss of their engagement also included the participation of one long-haired, slobbering dog.

That dog alone was surely grounds for a divorce, she thought. Antoinette seemed to believe that she was married to Tamaki as well, so was in the habit of sleeping on Haruhi's side of the bed whenever she could. Grabbing a handful of blonde hair in the night was an action filled with much uncertainty for Haruhi, because most likely it would just bring on the elated barking and dogfood-breathed attentions of the perfect example of dogs being just like their owners, or she'd wake up Tamaki and that was probably worse.

It was a miracle, in fact, that as a couple they got any time alone at all, what with the 'Members of the Board of Directors' of Ouran High School's Host Club turning up at all hours. Four was the fewest number of bedrooms in a house she could persuade Tamaki to agree upon, because at least then there was space for everyone, he argued; Hikaru and Kaoru in one room, Mori and Hunny in another, and Kyouya was given a room of his own because no living creature deserved to be subjected to the 'low-blood pressure demon' in the mornings.

The Host Club 'directors' – having taken a more managerial role since their graduation, but remainng key figures in the still-running Host Club – were only the start of things. Haruhi's father, Tamaki's father and his grandmother, and more recently, the staff of the second house, all liked to visit totally unannounced and expected to be allowed to stay for as long as they pleased.

Of course, while she was capable of telling such people to go away, Tamaki wouldn't say boo to a goose, and as such the house was unfortunately never, ever empty.

Such living conditions were undoubtedly grounds for divorce, she was sure. Arriving to your own wedding unexpectedly on an elephant was one thing, but allowing the elephant to eat the flower decorations during the ceremony was enough to make any bride have second thoughts.

She might have had doubts at the time herself, had her father not spoken to her in her dressing room before the day started, telling her between bouts of tears that in spite of 'everything' (meaning Tamaki), he was happy that she had found such a love – adding that he'd been convinced for a long time she would either never marry or do it only for convenience and personal gain, which she tried not to take too personally.

"Even though my blood boils to say it," he'd admitted, looking handsome yet confusing in a tuxedo, full makeup and pearl earrings. "You've been changed by him. For the better, too. He... really brought you out of your shell. They all did. I always wondered... after your mother... well, it can be hard, and at that school of all places..."

"I was fine, though, wasn't I?" she'd replied while fiddling with her kimono. The sleeves were long enough to trail on the ground if she had her arms down, and she was afraid she'd trip over them when she walked out.

"I know," he'd replied nostalgically, trying not to tear up again because he would ruin his eyeliner. "He's looked after you. He will look after you. After all, it's not going to be my du... du... duty anymoree-" He'd started to sniff loudly at that point.

"Don't cry again, dad," she'd told him fondly. "You'll ruin your makeup."

"Haruhiiiiii," he'd wailed, bounding forwards and throwing his arms around her. "My baby's all grown up!" At which point, he'd started to sob. Haruhi would've mentioned that she was twenty-two already, but her attention had been pulled by a distant sound of what could only be described as trumpeting.

Her father stopped crying, looking up at the same time she'd looked down – as their eyes met the sound repeated.

"No," they'd both murmured at the same time. "He wouldn't have."

Of course, Tamaki would have, and seeing as the zoo hadn't barred him yet that seemed to be reason enough to get an elephant instead of a limousine. He even tied some tin cans to her tail and hung a 'Just Married' banner off the back.

When she'd stepped outside of the room, and saw the elephant chewing on one of the flower arrangements that Hikaru and Kaoru had worked for weeks on, she'd looked at Tamaki, who was waving at her cheerfully from the altar where a very confused priest stood, and then looked back to her father, who just shrugged. Taking one deep breath, she'd made sure she wasn't about to trip over her sleeves, and walked out.

Even then she'd known that if he were any other way he wouldn't be Tamaki, and she wouldn't have that for all the rationality and common sense in the world.

She did insist, however, that they took a taxi to the airport, and the elephant was going straight back to the zoo. Then again, the last time she'd seen it was with the twins, so it could've been anywhere by the time they landed in Paris for their Honeymoon.

She'd skip over the Honeymoon in court, as it would undoubtedly weaken her case for divorce; although there may have been a few incidents along the way that might have been worth noting, the entire fortnight was a little too deeply stained with the rosy dye of romance and memories to be of any use to the court.

Thinking back to that wonderful time, as she held the papers tightly in her hands, Haruhi started to smile.

The knocking on the office door had stopped, but she knew he wouldn't have strayed far. He never slept on an argument even if it meant staying up all night as a result.

She stared at the papers. She glossed over the words she knew so well; the implications of them like old friends almost. Life without Tamaki: peace and quiet, good working conditions, no more dog hair in the bed. No more spontaneous trips when she had work or bad gifts, no more of the Host Club turning up for dinner just as she was serving it, then complaining that there wasn't enough.

No more extravagance or dramatics, no more crocodile tears, no more running into work late because he'd woken up in the morning feeling like doing that again.

But no more French, no more piano, no more walks with Antoinette or trips to the supermarket that felt like an adventure to a far-off fantasy land.

In short, no more Tamaki.

She carefully stacked up the papers again, smoothing them out on the desk and placing them back in the drawer. When she unlocked and opened the door, she was not immeaditely caught in a running hug, so she looked around curiously – he would not be far, she knew that much.

And he wasn't; just a few feet away from the door, curled up and sat on the floor with his back against the wall. Growing mushrooms, as she liked to say.

She couldn't see his face from her angle, so crouched down as she inched closer to him, fitting into the space between his knees and tilting her head so she could look up at him. His face was behind his hands, one rich blue eye peeking out from under his fingers curiously. They always seemed to look bluer when he was in or near tears, although it was possible that she only looked close enough to notice at those times.

He remained completely motionless, as she leant forwards and wrapped her arms around his his neck, hugging herself into the curve of his shoulder in silent reconciliation.

"Haruhi," he murmured at last, his hand falling from his face as his other arm closed tightly around her back, pressing her closer.

They remained like that for a while, until he lost the power to resist her, and drew his hand from where he'd settled it on her neck to under her chin, tilting up her face to meet his.

Even after all the time they'd been together, every kiss still felt like that first one, and fortunately enough neither of them had to work for the rest of the day, because getting 'carried away' with things was Tamaki's second instinct after breathing.

"So, what exactly do you do in there?" he questioned later on, both of them only dressed in the bedsheets, and Antoinette firmly shut out of the room. "You go in mad and come out... well." He smiled lopsidedly at her, his implication that much clearer considering they were actually still in bed, and a little colour rose in her face.

"It's a secret," she replied mysteriously. "It wouldn't work if I told you what it was." More likely it would just upset him even more and then he'd have a huge overreaction, but a few little bits of withheld information here and there provided her with some insulation against the bumps and shakes that came with being married to Tamaki Suoh.

He pouted, which probably would have been more effective had he been dressed, and Haruhi watched his lower lip tremble dramatically while failing to be affected by it at all.

"Can't you even give me a hint?" he wheedled, turning onto his front and moving closer to her so that he could put his chin on her shoulder as he gave her puppy-eyes. Haruhi just rolled hers.

"I just think about what my life would be like without you," she said coolly, not bowing any further to his pathetic expression, but moving one hand to tousle in his hair and scratch behind his ear like a dog. He gave her 'that' smile again, and she quickly looked away.

He didn't appear have any particular answer after that, so the only sound for a while was their breathing and Antoinette rushing around the house on the other side of the door. There was a sound suspiciously like a lamp being knocked over, and what seemed to be no end of slamming doors.

"I love you," Tamaki said spontaneously, and all of Haruhi's efforts not to get embarrassed failed in that instant and she blushed furiously.

"I...I," she stuttered, which made him he chuckle at her, the laugh resonating through her own body so that she could feel it in her chest.

"I love that even though we've been married three years, you still blush when I say that," he added, running his fingers along her collarbone idly. He hoped they would always be this happy, even if they did go up and down a bit sometimes.

"I... Iloveyoutoo," she mumbled, and her husband's smile began to morph from content to playful.

"What was that?" he teased. "I don't think I heard you properly, Haru- ow!" he yelped as she tugged on his ear, and after biting his lip settled down again. "So, what do we do with the rest of the day?" he propositioned. "Not that I mind staying here," he added seductively.

"I will tell you what we're not doing," she said firmly. "You and I are not entering Ouran's postgraduate 'cutest couple' contest." If he hadn't been resting his head on her shoulder, Tamaki's jaw would've dropped in dismay. That was what this fight had been about in the first place, because it turned out he had already registered both of them as a contestant without telling her.

"But!" he protested, and she shook her head at him. "We would certainly win though!" he pleaded.

"I don't care about winning," she replied succinctly. "I want everyone at the firm to take me seriously even though I'm a woman. Seeing me prance around in a contest like that is just going to weaken my image, or completely confuse the half that think I'm actually a man."

"What?" he questioned. "You still haven't told them?"

"Well... some people I've never spoken to," she pointed out. "They don't really know me, so if they get the wrong idea I don't have a chance to set them straight. I'm hardly going to jump on a chair and shout 'I'm a girl!' in the middle of the office."

"I could," he suggested innocently.

"No thank you," she replied hastily. "It's not really a big deal. This way I can prove to people I'm good without them taking my gender into account."

"You could prove it to them anyway; you're brilliant," he said romantically. She ruffled his hair again and felt him moving into the action contently.

"I'm not vice-president of any big Suoh-family business," she reminded him, which only made him scoff.

"Vice-president? I'm more like their dog!" he burst indignantly – it was true that he worked incredibly hard for the company, and was given a huge range of errands and tasks by his family, many of which really were no more than dog's work like fetching coffee and tea, or carrying his father's golf bags.

Haruhi simply smiled at him and continued to comb through his hair with her fingers. Eventually, though, he started to angle for a little more than light petting, evident by the way his hands started mysteriously finding their way underneath the sheets.

"So, love," he murmured against her neck, kissing it slowly so that he might savour every single aspect. "What do you reckon?" he proposed as kissed her skin again, feeling her stretch like a cat as she shifted further and further underneath him. She never answered the question, as pulling him insistently into a kiss made her agreement more than clear.

"Haaaaruuuuuhiiiii!" Hunny's voice trilled through the house with such resonance that it sounded as if he were outside the door. Looking over made both of them realize he was at the door.

"Wha... NO! DON'T COME IN!" Tamaki practically screamed, trying to leap up and hold the door shut, but because of his somewhat compromised position his legs became tangled in the sheets and he just ended up flailing over Haruhi, who yelped as he landed on her heavily.

"What was that? Is Tono hurting you, Haruhi?" the twin voices of Hikaru and Kaoru called, and in an instant the door was kicked open.

"Noooooo!" yelled Tamaki dramatically, while Haruhi just pulled the sheets over her head and put her fingers in her ears.

"Oh my," Hunny gasped, instantly gauging the situation and shooting Mori a cheeky, knowing look. "Are you two really doing that at this time of the day?" Haruhi was glad to have her face covered, as it was now red enough to be a traffic beacon.

"You're such a dirty man, Tono," Hikaru remarked, while Tamaki's face froze into a single expression of unparalleled horror.

"Are you okay, Haruhi?" Kaoru inquired mischievously; there was a long and awkward pause.

"P-Please go away," she said shakily, her voice trembling as she tried to remove herself from the situation as far as possible.

"Didn... Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock!" Tamaki accused furiously.

"You were the one who gave us keys to the house, Tama-chan," Hunny pointed out, and everyone observed a sudden cross movement under the sheets.

"...What?" Haruhi said, her voice now as steady as a rock, as it was filled with a cold, crushing amount of displeasure.

"Well... I... I thought I told you about that already..." Tamaki replied awkwardly. "I mean, what if we were busy and they wanted to get in?"

"We WERE busy and they DID come in!" she yelled, sitting up so suddenly that everyone else in or near the room jumped. She was holding the sheets up to her neck, of course, but even her disembodied head was pretty intimidating.

"I...!" Tamaki tried to protest, but unfortunately lacked a reasonable argument to resort to. "I'm sorry?" he pleaded, then found himself hit with not just a cold look, but a cold rush of air too, as Haruhi wrapped the bedsheet around herself and stood up, storming out of the bedroom looking very alarmingly like a human-sized swirl of whipped cream with a cherry on top.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki called after her as the rest of the Host Club stepped aside, allowing her to run into the office and slam the door shut after. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of the lock being turned.

So Tamaki was left – completely naked – in the middle of his bed with four men staring at him.

"Really, Tono," Hikaru taunted. "You need to sort out your life one of these days."

Then Antoinette, realizing that the bedroom door was at last open, began to bark ecstatically and bounded inside. Haruhi heard the commotion all the way from the study, and tightened her grip on those divorce papers.

So yeah. I love these two A LOT.

Don't mistake the ending for being depressing at all, it's just the (delicious) cycle starting all over again.

EDIT: It came to my attention through a review that some people are mistaking the Divorce Papers as an indication that Haruhi actually wants at any point to divorce Tamaki. That's not the case at all, the divorce papers are just what she uses to remind herself why she loves him, because they make her think of what life would be like without him (bad), so that always makes her remember why she loves him and forget about whatever she'd been cross about before. It's all, like, symbolic 'n shit XD