A/N: Hey, guys! I wrote these a long, long, long time ago. There were more, but many could not be salvaged for publishing. I haven't seen any XC, but I loved XS, so I hope you guys love these!
If you're wondering where I'm at with WD and LL stuff, I'm doing it right now! Be patient for a little longer, chapters coming soon!
Language Barrier
When the monks had all first met, they all had one common language to speak. Omi had spent his entire life at the temple; it was no wonder that Master Fung had had the time to teach him English and probably many more language. Kimiko had gone to some of the most prestigious schools in Japan (and more than a few outside), so she too had quite a few tongues under her belt. Raimundo, although not giving any details, had admitted to doing a lot of travelling in his childhood and with his native language or Portuguese, had picked up English along the way plus with quite a few others (which had them all wondering what kind of vacations his family of nine could possibly be taking).
And that had been that for a while, and Clay had been quite satisfied with their decided common language. It was all he knew; living on a ranch in the middle of the desert didn't leave a very big opportunity for new cultural experiences. And besides, a working family didn't have time to be learning another language when the one they had was perfectly good!
But you couldn't help but notice how more than half the temple monks spoke nothing but Chinese, and how Omi seemed to be the only person to be able to communicate with them until one day when Kimiko displayed her abilities.
Or the times where Raimundo would get frustrated and start yelling profanity in Portuguese, and Omi would sometimes pick up a couple words and start yelling back, obviously offended.
Or that day where Raimundo had gotten them out a jam in Paris as he smooth-talked the police out of giving the monks the blame for nearly destroying the Eiffel Tower in flawless French. Or how Kimiko would spend hours on the phone going on and on in Japanese or German or Italian or whatever, it all sounded like nonsense to him. And let's not forget the one night the other monks had an entire diner conversation in Spanish.
"—And that's why we still do the laundry in the river!"
"So why don't you just buy a washing machine, then?" Raimundo asked, chasing grains of rice around his plate.
"There are machines that wash clothes?" Omi's eyes lit up.
"Either way," Kimiko scoffed, "there's no way I'm rubbing my name brand clothes against a rock,"
Then Raimundo would laugh, Omi would look puzzled, and Clay could just go on with listening to them speaking in complete gibberish. They'd only known each other for a few days, and the three of them had already found a common ground that he could never contribute to.
He was sure that he'd have to bring up the matter soon. He was a patient guy, but there was no way he would be able to spend his time at the temple listening to his only available peer group leave him out of every conversation.
The funny thing was, thinking back on it now, he'd never have to. The other dragons may be finicky with what language they spoke to each other, but the Shen Gong Wu would only accept one.
They decided to keep things strictly English from that point forward.
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Driver's Ed
Kimiko punched the airbag hard enough for it to deflate, air from the popped balloon rushed over her face, blowing back her bangs and cooling her heated cheeks. "That didn't go so well." She gulps.
Clay looked absolutely stunned in the passenger seat, one hand gripping the armrest in an iron grip, the other holding onto the ceiling like he was afraid it would collapse in on him. "Aghhah…"
Raimundo bursts out laughing from the back seat, followed by a rather unwise sexist remark about driving from Omi on his right.
"You can drive a variety of magical Shen Gong Wu without a problem," Raimundo says between snickers. "But you can't even drive an automatic!"
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A Matter of Importance
"Raimundo, wake up." She shook his shoulder gently, trying not to alarm him into, who knows, karate chopping her head off. It was hard to tell what each other were capable of at this point. "Hey, Rai..." She shook his shoulder a little harder. "Wake up!" She whispered loudly, slapping his chest rather roughly.
"Can you stop?" He mumbles, eyes still closed. "I'm trying very hard to ignore you."
"Hey, I need you!" That came out a little too loud, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
He cracked one eye open, a wide grin spreading from his eyes. "Well, I didn't know you were the type to jump into things so quickly." he snickered.
Her response was yet another aggressive slap, followed by a confirming shove. "That's not what I meant, you idiot! I need your help!"
"Oh, well in that case," He closes his eyes again, although the smile doesn't go away. "No."
"Raiiii..."
He suddenly sits up. "Really, Kimiko, what could possibly be so important that you have to wake me up so early?" he groans.
"My blow-dryer broke," She whispers, fingering her damp hair. "could you…?"
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Puzzling
"Lighting struck overhead, illuminating the room for a fraction of a second before it was once again plunged into darkness. The thunder roared, almost overpowering the sound of heavy sheets of rain hammering against the temple roof.
Outside the world was practically flooding, making way for a new apocalyptic era, where, and not to be pessimistic, there's probably some whacked out monster-maids ruling the world… Anyway, inside, one boy—man—sits alone, waiting for the roof to come crashing in on him as relief from agonizing manual labour."
"What a drama queen," Kimiko laughs, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Is this really manual labour for you? It's only a thousand pieces." She motions towards the mess of a jigsaw in front of them, although there were pieces spread across the length of the great hall from days of puzzle piece fights and general boredom.
"A hundred, a thousand, a million, what difference does it make?" He sighs, flicking away a random middle piece. "What are we even building anyway?"
"It could be a dog," she muses, holding up a piece with a rather unidentifiable brown splotch on it. "Or a million other things."
"Well, let this be a lesson not to tell Master Fung that we're bored on a rainy day."
She laughs at his comment, while he turns his head to face the side of hers as she focuses on the puzzle pieces in her hand. It was nice, just the two of them spending time together. It was actually the first time they'd been alone since, well, Raimundo had probably had the most serious conversation of his life. Yes, ladies, he told her.
And, contrary to just about what everyone was thinking, things didn't go as… smoothly as planned.
"You have a really pretty laugh, Kimiko."
Opposite of how you'd expect her to react, the dragon of fire scowls in response. She slides over a little, putting a distance between them. "Are you seriously back at that?"
Raimundo shrugs. "I can't pay my friend a compliment?" but his smile has faded as he shifts himself so his cross-legged stance is positioned the other way.
"Is that really all you're doing?" she asks quietly, continuing to stay focused on the task as hand.
"You know how I feel, Kim."
"And you know how I feel, but we—"
"Mornin' all!" Clay takes the perfect opportunity to walk into the hall. Like usual, his smile is unmatched by the dreary weather and the enormous amount of work that was ahead of him for the day.
"G'morning," The two of them mumble out of unison, although the intended message is clear. Of course their sour mood doesn't damage his as the cowboy takes his seat on the other side of the massive puzzle sea.
"So how much have you two gotten done?" He asks, grabbing a handful from the pile.
"I really do hate puzzles," Raimundo mutters, completely ignoring his question.
Kimiko scoffs, grabbing another few pieces. "Well, they do take a lot of patience and commitment."
"I can be patient and committed."
"And they're also very complicated, and sometimes don't work out."
"Maybe for some people."
"Maybe for a lot of people! Especially people like us who have a lot of responsibility and shouldn't have to manage a puzzle along with everything else that we have to do!"
Clay laughs nervously, apparently trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Hey, uh, are we still talking about puzzles here?"
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Girl Stuff
"And that's when I used the orb of Tornami to right in Jack Spicer's face! HA!" Omi cheered, punching the air for emphasis as he trailed the shopping cart.
"We know, we were there." Raimundo sighs, stopping the buggy due to general lack of direction. This shopping trip had been just the latest in a long string, and it was starting to get on the dragon's nerves. They were supposed to be battling Heylin villains, not Price Chopper employees, but as it turns out not many delivery trucks were too keen on driving to the middle of Chinese nowhere.
Turning to Clay, he asks for what's next on the list.
The cowboy pats his pockets for a second, before remembering he hid the grocery list in his hat. His thumb trailed down the list, freezing almost near the bottom. His face goes stoic. "Uhm…"
"Dude? What is—oh."
Sensing there's something Raimundo and Clay don't want him to see, Omi tries climbing onto one of their shoulders. "What is it?"
The two elder monks share a rather uncomfortable look, neither sure what to tell him. There were a lot—A lot—of things Omi didn't and shouldn't know, and this one was of them.
Before either of them can react, Omi jumps up, snatching the paper from Clay's hands. The older boys are too slow to stop him as he reads over the list silently.
Finally: "What are the tampons?"
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The TV that Once Was
There was something that Master Fung had 'forgotten' to mention when the monks had arrived at the temple: there was one, solitary tube TV.
Omi knew about, but he didn't think it was important. The temple monks used it to watch the Chinese news from time to time—and occasionally catch an episode of Masterchef. Omi didn't like the TV because why would you being doing that when you could be doing more fun things like battling or chores?
Kimiko and Raimundo didn't think so. They were partners in crime, raging about their lack of awareness of the television for days. Their partnership abruptly ended when they realized that they didn't like a single show in common.
Kimiko liked cop dramas and reality TV; Raimundo liked sports and sitcoms. Neither could agree on a neutral program… ever. It was frustrating for Omi and Clay, watching their teammates argue and wrestle over the TV remote on a daily basis.
Clay and Omi were walking through the courtyard when they heard it again: the telltale sounds of television-related fighting.
Clay sighs, leaning over to watch the pandemonium through the window. "What are we goin' to do 'bout those two and that TV?"
Suddenly, the TV comes crashing through the window. Clay and Omi jump out of the way just in time as the burning hunk of nearly sets them aflame.
"THERE!" Kimiko's voice is now clear through the giant hole in the wall. "WAS THAT FUNNY ENOUGH FOR YOU?!"
"ONLY IF IT WAS REAL ENOUGH FOR YOU!"
"I believe," Omi says, although he's barely heard over the sound of the dragons' bickering. "It will not be a problem anymore."