Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.
A/N: Well. Well, well, well. This is for the brilliant Kay-san, my fabulous beta. -blows kisses-
Uhm. Please ignore the fact that Saitou is married to Tokio for fanfiction purposes.
And even if you don't read this piece of fanfiction (ex. If the pairing bugs you or whatever), be sure to scroll down to the bottom. I have a message for you all.
Saitou/Misao: Horses
Saitou was not happy.
Well, he was never really happy, but today, goddamn it, he was Not Happy.
The fact that a decidedly plastered Makimachi Misao was bouncing around in front of him wasn't helping all that much, either.
"Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o," she chanted cheerfully, wind-milling her arms around and very nearly upsetting his hat.
"Stop that," he ordered with a scowl.
"No! Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o, pants are Saitou, tight-o Saitou…"
"Che. You're even more annoying when drunk, you know that?"
"Ehhhh? What was that, Tight-o? Speak up! I can't hear you!"
Saitou sighed, reaching into his pocket to curl his fingers around a cigarette. When he found it, he gave an eerie smile of triumph and exhaled sharply. He lifted the cigar with two slender fingers, lit it deftly, and took several long pulls, trying to calm his mind.
"Saitou," Misao drawled, giggling and hiccupping. "I can't feel my fing'rs!"
"Go bite them then. Leave me alone."
Misao scowled. "Since when'd you become so… so mean, Tight-o? I mean, mou, 's not like you're Mount Hiei or nothin'."
"What the hell are you talking about, girl? Mount Hiei?"
"Well, yeah, duh."
Misao leveled him the best stare that she could offer in her drunken state, and said sloppily, "Mount Hiei and… and lava. Yeah, 's right, lava. Lava, java, guava, sava, java, cava. Java lava guava java. Lava java cava guava. Guava-wielding lava."
"You said java five times," Saitou pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "And lava five times also."
"You shuddup," Misao slurred, her footing slipping by a couple notches. Saitou flinched.
"Hey, Tight-o, what's this animina- amina- animani- thing called again?"
Saitou glanced briefly towards the girl, eyebrows shooting up further when he saw that she had sidled up to the nearest horse stall and pressed her nose onto a black horse's forehead. The horse didn't look too pleased about it, but Misao paid it no heed as she played with its ears clumsily.
"That… would be a horse."
"Horse. Coarse, force, source, endor-"
"Aungh. Shut up, woman," interrupted Saitou briefly. "You're giving me a headache."
"Fine. Sheesh, y' don't need to yeller at me or anything."
"God, where is that Seijuro? I'm going to kill him for getting you drunk."
Misao giggled. "Oh, you concun- concern- worried, tight-y boy?"
"Che. Not in the least. And don't call me that."
Despite what he said, though, it was with faint horror that Saitou watched Misao boost herself up onto the horse's back and sway from where she sat, gripping onto its mane with both hands.
"Giddy-up, horsey, giddy-up!"
"Oh, goddamnit, weasel girl, don't do that-"
Too late.
Misao dug her heels into the horse's sides, and it bolted forward, hooves waving threateningly in the air. It cleared the stall easily, landing with a clatter in front of Saitou. She laughed, patting the horse's neck gleefully.
"OH GOD, WEASEL GIRL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
Misao blinked. "What 'choo talking about, Tight-o?"
"THAT… YOU… CAPTAIN," Saitou spluttered, cigarette dropping from his mouth. "That's the CAPTAIN'S HORSE, you idiot!"
"Captain? What captain? I don't see no captain," Misao slurred, grinning. "I see you, Tight-y Sait-y, but that's it."
"Get down, damn you, get down!"
"Make me!"
Saitou groaned, a nervous tic appearing in his left eye. "No, weasel girl, you don't understand. That's the horse of General Yamamato. He'll kill me if anything happens to it."
"Like I give a damn. Or a ram. Or a Sam."
"GET DOWN OR SUFFER MY WRATH, GIRL."
"I'll get down… if you kiss me," Misao mused thoughtfully, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
"God. Is that all? Then gladly."
"What? What? I was just kid-"
She didn't get to finish that particular sentence.
Because Saitou had slammed his mouth against hers, cutting off any and all hope for conversation.
It certainly didn't look as though he didn't enjoy it.
In fact, one could say that Saitou looked rather pleased about it, really.
That is, until…
"HAJIME SAITOU," a deep, dark voice rumbled.
Saitou wrenched his head back so abruptly that their lips made an embarrassing squelching sound, and he cringed.
"Yamamoto-san, I swear to god it's not what it looks like!"
"Really. Because it looked to me as though you were fraternizing with the opposite sex during your shift, and- OH MY GOD, IS THAT BLACK BEAUTY, HAJIME?"
Saitou shuddered and shrank away from his quickly-swelling captain, muttering, "Yes sir, Yamamoto-san."
"YOU! GIRL! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM BLACK BEAUTY!"
Misao slipped off wordlessly, pressing a hand to her forehead and paling considerably.
Oh god, Saitou prayed. No, no, anything but that, please, no, no.
And then she promptly ralphed all over the esteemed captain's shoes, earning a rather infuriated scream that rumbled throughout the stalls.
"HAJIME!"
Later, one could see a very disgruntled Saitou heading towards the Aoiya with an exhausted Misao slung over his shoulder.
"Y'know, Tight-o, today was fun."
"Shut up."
Misao laughed delightedly, looping an arm around his head.
"Thanks, I guess."
"Che. Because of you, I might lose my job."
"Mm. Okay."
"Mm, okay? Are you going to provide me with an income, weasel?"
"Wanna be a waiter?"
"…No."
"Well, I'm sure he won't be too hard on you, y' know? You're a good guy, Tight-o."
Saitou smirked. Perhaps today wasn't as bad a day as he had thought.
"Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o, pants are Saitou, tight-o Saitou!"
Yeah. And maybe Shishio was a Cambodian belly dancer.
A/N: Hello, all, Pendari here.
I'm sure by now, you guys (well, the ones who read my writing, heh.) are tired of reading the cheap little drabbles I've been putting up, due to my lazy-ass-ness, and I apologize. Really.
So, to all of you, I offer a challenge.
If you provide me with a coupling and a prompt from Rurouni Kenshin, I will write it for you. No matter how ridiculous it is.
For example: Aoshi and Misao, Peanut Butter.
If someone wrote that (-points upward-) in a review, I would, in some way, write a fanfiction starring Aoshi, Misao, and a jar of peanut butter. Dedicated to the person, of course. I promise, I'll write anything from Kenshin x Kaoru to Megumi x Shishio. –SNERK-
It's a gift offering, if you will.
Uhm. If you request a story, I suggest you put this onto Story Alert, so you'll know if it's posted or not. I'm going to write these in the order I get them, so I suggest you hurry up. The challenge holds valid until the end of November, so quickly, quickly, my dears!
Thanks for reading, and request away!
