Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this playful misadventure... especially for the one who's taking some serious liberties with canon. Oh, wait... that would be me. Okay, I'll take responsibility for that part. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.
Chapter 10: At Your Service
Returning with new clothes for the imp, Miroku shooed everyone else from the hut, allowing Jaken some privacy. He kindly gave the flustered youkai a head start, but after counting his blessings twice over, he calmly stepped back inside. As expected, the poor fellow was in a bit of a bind. "Ah, I came back too soon!" the monk exclaimed in tones of apology. "However, since I am here, let me offer my assistance."
"Unhand me," the demon snapped angrily, trying to dodge his reach.
"Allow me," Miroku firmly countered, taking the same tone he used with his daughters.
Jaken straightened, glaring down from his superior height, then his expression distorted into panic, and he grabbed for support as he swayed. Sagging against the wall, the imp closed his eyes and whined, "Kill me now."
"That will not be necessary," the monk assured, moderately relieved that Sesshoumaru's retainer was still capable of dramatics... albeit subdued ones. He retied Jaken's new hakama; the dark brown pants only made it halfway to the demon's ankles, but they did the job. Belting the simple shirt over them, Miroku decided that its shade of deep green looked particularly nice with the imp's unusual hair color.
"I don't want your help!" Jaken protested peevishly.
"I know, and soon, you shall not require it," he soothed. The monk maneuvered under the demon's arm, offering support as he guided his shuffling steps across the wooden floor. "In the meantime, you must find your feet."
There were shades of gratefulness in the imp's expression as he curtly answered, "I have no choice."
"Not if you intend to bow to your lord's wishes," Miroku acknowledged.
Leaning heavily on the man, Jaken grumbled, "I will not thank you for your interference, human."
"Miroku," he corrected. "And thanks are not necessary."
End Note: This chapter was written for the Live Journal community fanfic(underscore)bakeoff and their Secret Ingredient for March 2011—Distort. Posted on March 29, 2011. 300 words.