The Malchior Files Chapter 10: And a Very Merry Christmas to You Too, a teen titans fanfic

Z/N: As usual, my only copyright is Kyrie; may use with permission from me and a link to the final whathaveyou only.
More information at the bottom. I make no apologies for this.

It wasn't very Christmassy music, Kyrie thought, as she maneuvered past the large royal purple dragon curled up in her living room. He was almost napping, and moved his tail so she could walk by without plastering herself to the stereo set.

The song itself was one that was almost the opposite of Christmas. Or, at least, the type of Christmas usually celebrated in daylight, and in large groups. There was something odd about hearing Crazy Bitch as she wandered through the house setting up the last of the tinsel. Not that anyone would come over anyway. This was simply something she had to do, and Malchior simply had to lay there and not help. That's how it had been before, and that is how it was shaping up to be this year.

Apparently her hospitality was easier for him to accept than the Titans, after the fiasco of breaking free from the book and promptly landing himself in an alternate dimension courtesy of one of their allies. Now that was certainly a pain to fix.

As she set her cup of hot chocolate down on the counter, she wondered a bit vaguely as to why she was drinking it. She certainly had no use for it apart from around this season. Truth be told, she much preferred Apple Cider. And Christmas Music itself would only be allowed to come on in a few hours. Something about the repetition of it for an entire month made her mind zone out in a way that she feared might be permanent.

She was spared the wondering about her less than thrilled near future by the chime of the doorbell. Malchior was quicker. By the time she had turned around, his garnet eye had opened and a silvery grin took over much of his mouth. He changed to his human form. Just like that, no 'poof', or other such smoke, noise or light. He just was, suddenly. And now that he was, he was also going to the door. She rolled her eyes and followed him at a safe distance.

The man standing on the doorstep wasn't himself too impressive; indeed he was busy being both in awe of his delivery and of the two of them. Malchior wouldn't stop that smile, for one. It was not a reassuring look of comfort. Kyrie shoved him away from the door with effort, flashing her own apologetic grin at the poor boy. This seemed to snap him out of his trance, and he held out two clipboards, one for each of them to sign. She scribbled her name in silence, curiosity getting the better of her, and handed it back at the same time Malchior finished his. The boy seemed to want to say something, but stopped himself, and dashed back to the vans.

Yes, vans. Now that Kyrie could see out the door, she noticed that there were two UPS trucks. One a great deal larger than the other. The typical muscle-bound men were heaving a definitely large crate to the door, and after they managed to accomplish that, they returned for a second, slimmer box.

Kyrie blinked as this too was unceremoniously dropped onto her porch. One of them handed her a check for delivery costs, and that perked her up. Only one person had never gotten the hang of paying for gift delivery themselves. She ruffled around for the appropriate, and somewhat expensive, amount, and handed it over. The men then left without saying anything.

An expectant sort of silence descended. The atmosphere was trying it's best to be helpful, and seasonal, without actually snowing. Malchior leaned against the door frame, eyeing her with interest as she directed her own attention to the task of looking dignified while scratching at the hard wood surface of the biggest box. That one was marked with a K across the top, in the somewhat hurried version of an ornate style. She could feel the dragon smirking behind her.

"Oh, tough choice, morsel. Dignity or gift."

"You know...you...could...be of...help..." She responded, tugging at the lid, now frowning slightly.

Before she even really noticed it, he had changed back to his more natural form, in one sudden movement sticking his head out the door and flaming at the package.
Kyrie automatically jumped away, caught between what to lecture him about first: Safety where she was involved, not trying to do that on purpose to get a rise out of her, being inconspicuous, or attempting to do things the hard way on purpose.
When she hit the ground, however, the gift inside the package rolled out; and all other thoughts were abruptly forgotten. She gave a little strangled scream, Malchior blinked, puzzled, and then it started to snow.

It took a while, but they managed to get the thing inside.

Thing, was an accurate word for it.
As long as it had taken them to get it inside, it took longer for Malchior to attempt to calm down.

"He...he got you a...haha, ha...he..he got...!"

"A Chimera head."

"He...Ahahahaha!"

"Yes."

"Haha, haa...I apologize, it's just that...that...! Ahahahahaaaa!"

"Yes."

"Haha. Ha...haha. Ha... ...Ha. Ahem."

"Yes."

Malchior noticed for the first time, that Kyrie's expression was changing from one of misery, to an often seen determined resignation of 'I am going to make this work, no matter what, and I will be happy for it.'

He shook his head lightly. Words of comfort given gratuitously was not at all commonly practiced or something he excelled at; though he felt this time it was worth a try.

"Kyr, you know that he.. . often thinks in our original time. To him, this would be a gift for a respected foe, or a courtship ritual."

"Well."

"...Kyrie? It's a courtship ritual."

"We're engaged."

"Ah, yes, but..."

"My my, we have to get this hung up somewhere!"

She suddenly smiled and stood up, clapping her hands together and surveying the walls for an appropriate place to hang the ghastly thing. Malchior had to admit that it wasn't the most noble looking death, the creature's grimace never failed to throw him into a barely held back fit of laughter and disgust.

As Kyrie walked into the other room to presumably grab some nails and other such useful bits, he took the time to open his own gift.

Staring at the wall where she had finally decided to place the trophy, Kyrie's eyes unfocused and then quickly resumed staring, the only hint that she was less than thrilled. Her nose wrinkled in anticipation of the smell that was sure to come later.

By this time, the music had turned to some sort of cabaret, equally unseasonable, but a welcome addition to the new decor. She stepped back and eyed it critically for another moment, then nodded decisively and swept back into the kitchen.

And promptly fell to her knees, the shock of what greeted her too much for her body to keep up with.

Malchior was turning around, admiring himself. He was in a dress. A dress made of mithril.

When he heard the thump of her involuntarily hitting the ground, he turned back with a dazzling smile. "Well, I'm quite happy with my gift."