A/N: in honor of church of lemons '21, A little amusement.

The heavy office door made its presence known as it was swung open.  "Miss Relena!" Called the hurried voice of her secretary. 

"Chris whatever it is, it shall have to wait." Relena was currently feeling the paperwork equivalent of an avalanche. Why were there 13 federal agencies involved in a fruit export trade war? Was it too late to side with anarchy? "I have to get this done for the president's trip to L3 or else-"

"HE is here!" Chris was not one to interrupt. Certain world ending events however justified it. If the grim reaper showed up he would be asked politely but firmly to make an appointment.  If Heero Yuy showed up at her office unplanned, it was a 5 alarm hurricane train-wreck landslide of locusts. Last time this happened a security guard had unfortunately tried to stop him, as of 2 weeks ago his arm was out of the cast.

Before Relena could manage a word: Heero was in, Chris was out, the door was somehow slammed shut but silently, and his gaze was locked very narrowly on her.  Relena wouldn't back down to presidents, ambassadors, governors, or anyone else. Heero was not anyone else.  "You, are, late."

"Heero, I-" She was cut off by a thud. It was a circular plastic container with some pink liquid inside.  With a little trepidation she looked down at the label and much to her horror saw that she was in fact looking at melted peppermint ice cream. Her personal favorite, and there it sat, ruined, underappreciated, neglected. If he had to use a metaphor to make a point, did it have to cut so close to the bone?

"It is extremely challenging to plan events when you will not adhere to an agreed upon schedule.  Further, for one who wishes to have 'spontaneous and romantic gestures' in her life to not give opportunities for that to happen is hypocritical.  Finally, lest I be accused of over reacting..." He paused for effect, and there was no small sense of dread over what was coming. "This is the third container of ice cream this month."  Having stated his message, he stood there arms crossed.  His gaze would wither a lessor person but at this moment Relena was feeling somewhere between 2 inches tall and microscopic.  She tried to think of something and as always he waited, his point was made and she was free to respond as she desired.

"Heero, I."  She looked up, he was unflinching. "I don't have a good answer to be honest. There are too many important things coming at me from all directions and I don't know what to do about it."  When in doubt, there was the truth.

"Delegate."

"Excuse me?"

"You have an actual staff, you are reluctant to give them work because you feel bad for it. Give them work, don't feel bad about, and spend less then 60 hours per week in this office."

"I know that sounds easy but-"

"L3 fruit imports, it's the exact same as L2 textile issue from 2 months ago. Your junior minister could literally copy that report, do a find and replace, then proofread it and have the project completed in one third the amount of time you are spending doing it from scratch. You hire professionals, not professional proof readers, so let them do what my tax dollars are paying them to do."

Then there was silence. She looked back down at her desk and saw once again the underappreciated, melted ice cream.  Suddenly determination filled her and she sat up straight. She was Relena, vice foreign minister, grown professional woman capable of making decisions for herself.  She pushed the intercom button on her phone. "Chris, please tell Deputy minister Dubois I'd like to see a draft of the L3 report for the president by noon Thursday, they should use the L2 textile report as an example. After that, please go home as we are finished for today."

She looked up again, there was no visible smirk on his impassive face but she new it was there.  "Now, as for you." She stood up and came around the desk, and poked a finger in to his chest. "I can not have to terrorizing my staff, they think it's armageddon any time you come in."

"I am okay with that."

"I am not, they are professional people just trying to do their jobs. I will have you know that tax dollars of some very kind, considerate, thoughtful, and far too neglected husbands go to pay their wages." She poked her finger in to him with each point for extra emphasis. "So how about we get out of their way for today and let them be professionals?"

"I am also okay with that." This time he did smirk, for her and only for her. "As it happens I was prepared and purchased an additional container of peppermin-"  He was cut off by her lips pressed on his.  He blinked in surprise but relaxed. After all, he was okay with this.