A/N: Hi all, yeah... *slightly blushing* So, I wrote this on a whim solely because I've only been inspired to write one fic previous to this and my profile looks a little bare. I'm aware it isn't great and you are of course welcome to echo that opinion to me in review form, as long as your insults are accompanied by something constructive... or at the very least a cookie.... or at the very very least a "Happy New Year!"
Standard Disclaimer yada yada me no own Bleach yeah yeah Merry Christmas to you too.
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Ichigo awoke that morning feeling somewhat uneasy. Feeling uncharacteristically like sharing this morning our beloved strawberry hero passed on this information to his Shinigami lodger.
"Perhaps it's flying butter?" She offered "Did you eat toast this morning Ichigo?"
…
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Fly. Ing. But. Ter."
A pause.
Ichigo felt his left eye brow pull up out it's usual scowl.
"I've read about it" She stated, as if to settle the matter.
"Well that doesn't mean anything!"
"Oh really?" Rukia huffed, the promise of violence apparent both in her eyes and her snarl. However the carrot top knew no fear. Ichigo knew the kinds of things Rukia like to read and he somehow doubted that she got this information out of a text book, and from what he gathered from newspapers there wasn't currently a demonic plague of flying butter attacking breakfast tables across Japan. No. Not at all. If she got this from anywhere it was from her fruity girly manga magazines that she bought with his money. Wait a minute…
"Do you mean, Butterflies?"
….
"No"
"Butterflies in the stomach?"
"No!"
Ichigo held back a supreme smile of smugness as the miniature death god scurried back into her closet. He held back a bigger smile as the sound of frantic page turning filled the suddenly ever so quiet room.
"Damn him…."
Suddenly Ichigo felt better.