Title: Kharl Was Having a Splendid Day
Genre: Crossover, YYH/Dragon Knights
Author: Chieira and Ellabel
Pairings: Slight Kurama/Hiei and Kharl/Garfakcy
Warnings: Slight BL, idiocy, and severe TWT (Timeline, What Timeline?)

Disclaimer: We do not own Dragon Knights or Yu Yu Hakusho and are making no money from this story.

A/N: Short chapter, sorry. We wanted to get it out in time for Ellabel's birthday.

The real Garfakcy, for the moment blissfully unaware of his garden's destruction, was skulking on the edge of a rooftop in a nearby demon village. He smirked as his foot 'slipped,' sending a tile tumbling from the roof to strike a redhead making his way through the village.

Kurama, for his part, took the sudden attack on his head fairly well. He stumbled, grabbed onto the wall, and muttered, "Sorry, Mother, but we're all out of salmon." Later, when retelling The Adventures of Hiei, Kurama, and That Irritable Human and Kind of Sketchy Demon, he would say that he immediately leaped into action, brandishing his rose whip and searching for his attacker.

His eyes most definitely did not cross.

He did, however, quite possibly have a concussion. He carefully lifted his hand, feeling the tender, quickly forming knot at the top of his head and wincing, then glanced upward. His somewhat bleary gaze found a short, smirking person with strange hair, and he came to the only possible conclusion he could while in the possession of concussion-hampered youki senses.

"That was not funny, Hiei."

"That was so funny, Hiei," the rooftop skulker said, mocking him. He spun around on one foot, making a really spectacular face at his slightly addled watcher. "Bye now, Hiei. Don't let the tiles hit you on the way out, Hiei." The child accompanied this pronouncement with an unfriendly laugh before flouncing away.

Or trying to flounce away.

Garfakcy hadn't reckoned on the smarmy-looking redhead being able to reach him up on the roof. He cursed himself five ways from payday as an unnaturally clean (around these parts, anyway. Garfakcy himself never found cleanliness to be unnatural) hand wrapped around his ankle and tugged. He slid down the wall to the ground amidst more breaking tiles and came face-to-face – or rather, face-to-waist – with the victim of his simple prank. He reached for his ashes to transport himself away, only to find the bag snatched from his fingers and dangled over his head.

"We are not going to play this game, you… you... fairy," he snarled, refusing to jump for the bag held oh-so-temptingly in the air. "Give me my ashes back, now, and I may permit you to live."

Kurama wasn't surprised in the least to discover Hiei kept a bag of ashes tucked in his shirt. He wasn't going to ask whose ashes they were, though. He had no desire to end up in a bag of his own, however touching the thought. He was surprised, however, that Hiei had called him a fairy. If 'surprised' were synonymous with 'slightly murderous,' anyway. Hiei was very lucky that Kurama knew he wasn't familiar with human slang, and therefore would not be murdering him. Yet.

"I don't know what has gotten into you," he said levelly, keeping the bag carefully out of reach. "What are you even doing here? You were supposed to be searching the eastern sector. Don't tell me you're finished already." Hiei was fast, but not that fast.

That led Kurama's Youko mind in entirely different directions, however, and the brief pause gave him time to contemplate Hiei's appearance. Which was not, in fact, Hiei's appearance. He didn't think so, anyway. His head was still spinning unpleasantly.

"What did you do to your hair?"

Garfakcy's glare became, if possible, even more poisonous. "Why? Do you want tips, fruity man? If so, I'm sure there's a place in Draqueen that caters to fruits. Probably several places. You're on the wrong continent for that sort of thing, though. You want Dusis for that. You're on Arinas." He spelled the words out slowly as if Kurama were not quite sentient.

Kurama liked Hiei. He did. He really did. However, 'like,' for Kurama, generally translated to, 'you have yet to give me reason to wish your death,' or 'I respect you, and therefore do not wish your death at the moment,' or even, 'my status as a demon in hiding does not permit me to inflict painful torment upon you at this present time - I'll be speaking with you again later.' Kuwabara and Yusuke generally fell somewhere between the first two, with Hiei and Shiori usually reserved solely for the second.

Right now, Hiei was cruising right past the third, headed straight out of 'like' territory and into 'your entrails are about to become your extrails.'

Kurama considered that Hiei was a good friend. He contemplated the fact that surely his good friend – he made sure to stress the words in his mind, just to remind himself – had simply hit his head, probably shortly before hitting Kurama's, which throbbed helpfully to remind him that the concussion was still there. Therefore, Hiei was certainly not in his right mind. So Kurama should not gut him with a blade of grass. Definitely not.

He would, however, restrain him. And probably gag him.

Most likely gag him. It was for his own well-being, after all.

"Sorry about this, Hiei. I'm sure you'll understand when you're thinking clearly again."

Vines sprung from the ground, showering passing villagers in clumps of dirt as they leaped at Hiei, curling around him.

Garfakcy had time for one brief, panicked thought- "It's the goddamn fairies again-" before his own blood-curdling scream of rage choked him unconscious.

What. It could do that. Have you ever pissed off a hundreds-year-old murderer bound for all eternity into a chubby, three-foot-tall body? Yeah, didn't think so. Know what else would have pissed him off? What was currently going on in Kharl's castle.

Having carried Hiei's motionless form up the front steps and into the entryway, Kharl glanced around for an appropriate place to deposit it. A stool caught his eye, haphazardly placed against a bookshelf for easy access. That is, Garfakcy hadn't placed it haphazardly. Kharl was pretty sure one of the killer shrimp had knocked it askew. Probably in the altercation with Mr. Death Die.

Staggering over to the stool, he had an idea. Something had obviously upset Garfakcy's delicate natural balance. Why not arrange things just the way Garfakcy liked them, so when he woke up, he'd be happy? He sat the boy on the stool and leaned him against the books. Glancing around, he spied Garfakcy's favorite paisley apron draped over the vacuum cleaner. He walked over to fetch it, smiling slightly. He'd bought Garfakcy many aprons over the years, but it was sweet how his servant clung to the very first one.

Gently he tied the apron around Hiei's waist, being careful not to knock him off the stool. He added a feather duster to one small clenched fist and smoothed the hair from the diminutive forehead. His fingers brushed something- a bandage of some sort. The poor human was always getting injured. Kharl could never convince the rebellious boy to wear his armor. He knew Garfakcy probably never would, but he still reminded him before every mission.

He eyed the overall setup before crossing one small leg over the other. Now it looked like Garfakcy. Or it would once it woke up and told him he was useless, in a tone of voice that meant quite the opposite. Smiling to himself, he slid an entire shelf of books onto the floor. A potted plant might have been tipped over on the pile for good measure.

Garfakcy loved cleaning things.

TBC