Haven't gotten down to writing RL in awhile; what with last year's writer's block and all. Starting my exams in 3 days too! T.T But I managed to dig up this old oneshot; it's my first genderbender fic. (* Wanted to draw an accompanying fem! Lambo pic, but fails.)

Title: First Contact
Pairing: Rebornxfem! Lambo
Rating: PG-15
Genre: Romance, humour (?)
Warning: As with the rest of my fics; swearing and potential OOCness. Reborn is, once again, the archetypal conniving asshole.
Summary: There's a reason why Reborn puts up with having the annoying little calf around.

"To...le...rate..." The well-worn litany didn't work this time, however; and quickly ceded to full-blown cries. "Uwaahhahh!~~"

The witnessing hitman merely rolled his eyes. He didn't know which famigliahad misplaced this kid, —Bovino? Who was that? Must be relatively small— but for once he sincerely had it in him to wish the brat could find his way home. The stupid little cow had been glued to him for 3 hours straight; and least to say, the Arcobaleno had never encountered anything else quite as irritating in the entirety of his cursed life.

Just as he was about to whap the small cow-suited child on the head again —maybe to shut him up; definitely for the sheer hell of it— he was stopped by a freaking, long, purple bazooka, of all things; produced from the depths of that bushy hair. Jet-coloured eyes narrowed. Never mind the laws of physics that single move had thumbed its nose at; that looked like—

The toddler had hopped down the hatch and the entire contraption exploded in pink smoke before he completed his thought.

So it was the ten-year bazooka. Come to think of it, the name Bovino had sounded familiar. While the concept of time travel and switching places with a ten-years older version of yourself had been interesting when presented to him as a bar-room anecdote, the thing was expressly useless to all aspects of the Vongola; and as such, had not been worth his time securing an actual prototype.

He pivoted smartly on his heels. Best to disappear; before the temporal tunnels spat out that tiresome child again.

"Yare, yare?" A decidedly feminine voice called out. The hitman paused in mid-step; and turned his head back. Not three paces away, a girl sat at the exact spot the brat had been; as if she had somehow fallen there.

Wait. The cow child was a girl?

It appeared to be so. The messy, black hair and emerald eyes (eye; one of them was shut) were there; and the cow-printed baby suit had been traded in for a shirt of the same motif.

"Reborn!" Having seen him at last, she leapt up and yelled with no small amount of anger; cheeks flushed and posture bristling with challenge. Unfortunately, the overall effect was quite spoiled when the rough motion caused certain appendages on her to bob; and inevitably directed his attention south. To her breasts.

Her very generous breasts.

Abruptly, the beauty realised what he was staring at, and he was immediately denied any further admiration of those beautiful, ripe curves with a squeak that was more than embarrassed.

Although, as it soon turned out; the red on her clear, creamy skin wasn't so much mortification as it was pure, unadulterated fury.

"You, you PERVERT!" She screamed; shaking and seemingly growing inches taller in her magnificent anger. And more of the like; but he had already tuned out her words. Instead, his eyes were too busy roaming over and drinking in the sinful visas; of the slender waist her body tapered to, the tanned, lightly muscled stomach revealed by her tight shirt's open hem, and hips in perfect measure of womanliness and youth; which her low-slung white pants clung to in a desperate embrace.

"—Are you even listening?! Horny bastard—Aahh!" He had only kicked her down with the innocent intention of teaching her for staining those cherubic lips with profanities—at him; no less— but ended up being rewarded anyway by the sight of two round, firm asscheeks protruding skywards.

A smirk, not unlike a closed-mouth leer, graced the lips that looked too young for such a thing.

Feisty.

Tilting her chin, so her fearful, confused orbs faced him, he said coolly and deliberately;"Tell your boss to treat my future lover well". And his eyes...left her no doubt of the future lover's identity.

As a pretty blush effused her flustered face, the soft-looking mouth opened—probably to berate him even more for that daring statement— but any other words were cut short by another contained, pink explosion.

Which, of course, brought the brat back; with a cookie in one hand and an apparently improved mood. Enough that she became distracted by and ran towards a street performer at the corner; rather than continue pestering him.

He might've thanked providence at this chance to make himself scarce only minutes ago; but now he stayed and watched the small, retreating back from under his fedora; his mind focused on her older form. If this was what the future had in store, perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to allow this little nuisance to keep her fixation of him.

Suddenly, he frowned.

The child was 5 years old. Or so she had claimed in her noisy introduction.

If the bazooka only transported back a self from the next ten years—

Damn.

*Owari*

A/N: (*chuckles) Oh Reborn; if you can wait 10 years for Lambo to grow up then surely you can wait another year for her to be of legal age! Though I suppose it would be harder once she blossoms... ;P

Hope you enjoyed! I know I did; first try at conceptual het was very rejuvenating. (Gave me the opportunity to use amazingly messy handwriting too) But I should really get an RxL icon... can anyone recommend some awesome specimens for me?

Comments would be nice. C:

BTW, does anyone know how to get this Ctrl+Shift to work? I'm rapidly tiring of being unable to add spacing.