Disclaimer: …Why do I bother?
"Superior, huh?" Miriallia asked the blonde skeptically. He glared at her. She smirked. She was going to enjoy this tremendously. "Are you sure nothing's wrong with you? I mean this isn't exactly normal, is it?" She tried to force a worried look onto her face, but she was doing a happy dance inside. Dearka rolled over on the couch and muttered something incoherently. "Maybe you need to get out more." She told him. "Did you know that you have a batter chance of catching a cold from being inside than being outside? Something about your immune system 'enjoying' fresh air or… something along those lines."
"Go awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" Dearka groaned.
"And give up my chance for sweet revenge?" She laughed. "Keep dreaming." He pouted. 'Aww, would the poor widdle sick boy like some chicken soup?" She asked with a teasingly childish tone. The TV remote went flying past her, missing her face by no more than a few centimeters.
"What the hell was that for?" She asked.
"Teasing." He murmured
"You tease me all the time and you don't see me throwing blunt objects at you."
Dearka sniffled. "I know. Just sharp ones."
She'd walked right into that one. "That was once."
"That was once that you tried to kill me. I was just trying to get my message across with the remote."
"I was just trying to get my message across too." She pouted. Dearka sat up. He was so ready for this.
"That message being that I deserved to die?"
"Exactly." She retorted. Dearka had no response to that. Well, he did, but that would bring up Tolle, and that was always a touchy subject.
"I probably shouldn't even be in here." She said after a long pause. Dearka sniffled again.
"Why not?"
"Well, if it's bad enough to get you infected, I don't really want to find out what it would do to me." She explained. "I'll go make you some soup." And with that she wandered into the kitchen. Dearka laid back down and closed his eyes. They jerked open a second later when ice was poured all over him. He jumped up and glared at Miriallia who was holding an empty bucked.
"Are you insane woman!" He shouted.
"Nice to know you're feeling better." She smiled at him.
"Huh?"
"I've seen three year-olds fake sick better than you." She explained with a raised eyebrow before spinning around and sauntering off. "Don't let the ice melt on the couch!" She called behind her. Dearka glared at her retreating back. This meant war.
A/N: I was going to make Dearka actually sick, but I couldn't think of a decent ending so I quickly edited it, and made him fake it. I'm not too pleased with this chapter either… but I'm not usually pleased with anything I write… My muse doesn't seem to like me much right now. It never lets me write. I'm considering starting a multi-chaptered AU K/M fic, but I'm probably not going to publish that until I have a few chapters written up, and that's assuming I even decide to write the thing. It was… somehow inspired by GetBackers, but it does not tie into the plot, characters, or anything like that (I may add a Honky Tonk just to pay tribute). The inspiration came from the characters 'trump cards' (abilities). If you want a summary (which will contain a lot of rambling) just let me know and I'll PM you one… eventually. If I do write it, the earliest I would publish it would be around the end of summer. Thanks for reading. Until my next update, farewell!
