Disclaimer: We all like chocolate, right? Does it mean we own the pieces from heaven? No. Same with Kenshin. (This concludes my disclaimer. 8D)

Etiquette 101
By Punch Buggy

"You're going."

A stoic man calmly raised an eyebrow. "Is it really an intelligent idea to push me, Tokio?"

"Is it really an intelligent idea to piss off a menopausal woman, Hajime?"

Two sets of molten amber narrowed. Christmas cheer indeed.

"You are beginning to make me realize that marrying my double was very unwise."

The slim woman leaning lazily on the doorframe snorted at the comparison. "Please. Do not insult me; I'm more of a cat than a wolf. But that's straying from the topic." Tokio took this chance to glare stubbornly up at her husband as he flipped open his lighter. "All I'm asking is that you attend one class, so why can't you just cooperate? It is your Christmas present, after all."

"Some pointless Western holiday is in no way worth going through one of your schemes to make me into the man you wish you married, dear," Saitou drawled, speaking past his newly lit cigarette.

"It's only an etiquette class, Hajime."

Saitou let out a puff of smoke. "Exactly."

Tokio breathed a frustrated sigh and nearly growled at his resistance. Suddenly her eyes took on a mischievous glint as a stroke of brilliance stuck her. "That's too bad. I figured you would have enjoyed the chance to defeat Himura-san in something." Just as she expected, a brief look of interest flickered across Saitou's normally smirking face. "This would be the perfect chance. Living in the mountains with a hermit could never produce the perfect etiquette you could obtain through this class. It would be an unconventional win, but a win nonetheless."

Tokio watched as the Mibu Wolf silently contemplated her reasoning. She inwardly smirked, already knowing what his answer would be.

"I will go, if only for the chance to defeat Battousai. Do not think I'm doing this for you."

This time Tokio's smirk reached her lips. It would seem that her husband had been wrong after all. Yes, a dog could be tamed with food and a man could be tamed with money. But it seemed that a Mibu Wolf could be tamed as well, but by something even more deadly.

His extremely manipulative wife.

"First of all, I would like to wish you all a merry Christmas and thank you for choosing 'The Jolly Rancher Etiquette Boutique' to hone your skills," a feeble-looking woman sternly stated, "And second of all to wish everyone the best of luck! This is a difficult mission that you must treat with care and execute with the utmost precision!"

Amongst the large flock of whispering women, Saitou Hajime was, for once in his life, at a loss of words.

What the hell did he just get himself into?

As he was about to make a break for it, something particularly large smashed into his side. Turning to shoot his famous death glare at whatever had dared to touch him, Saitou came face to face with what appeared to be the missing link.

Somehow, even knowing Battousai, Saitou had missed the memo that appearances could be deceiving.

"So, big boy," a sugar-coated voice cooed, twirling greasy strands around plump fingers, "how much can you bench?"

Twitch.

"Cease and desist, vermin."

The beast huffed, giving her best pout in an attempt to attract something besides flies. "Awwwwwww, come on sweetie buns! Is that anyway to talk to a lady such as myself?" she questioned, "seductively" tracing the curves of her blubbery rolls.

At this point, Saitou was debating whether conniving wives fit under the Aku Soku Zan policy.

"Leave my presence, foolish…" Saitou paused, examining her with understandable confusion, "…woman."

"I can't leave!" her shrill voice squawked in response, "I'm the assistant teacher! I'll be with you all day long, smuckums."

Twitch.

Why was it that he didn't bring his katana again?

Oh, yes. His lovely, caring wife thought it would be "for the safety of everyone if he left it at home".

What about his safety, dammit?!

An idea struck, and if Saitou was the type to cackle aloud, he would have at that moment. But, being Saitou, he settled for a smirk. A fairly wide, frightening one.

For the first time in years, he was truly looking forward to heading home to pay some quality time with his wife.

"Now now, everyone! Take a seat at the chair with your name tag on it immediately! We must not dawdle!"

The beast wobbled over to the front of the room to stand beside the instructor, turning to blow the ex-Shinsengumi a flirtatious kiss.

Saitou glared.

BOOM.

Saitou smirked.

Who said Shishio was the only master of spontaneous combustion?

A few screams and nervous glances later, the amber eyed man decided to actually follow instructions and look around for his chair, taking a brief glance around the room. Flashy garland was interlaced between stair rails and draping over doorframes, and there was a large Christmas tree sitting in a corner, fully adorned with poinsettia and glowing red bulbs. There was a distinct smell of cinnamon and apple cider, which he perceived was coming from the large bowl of potpourri on the fireplace's mantle. The whole ensemble was fairly invigorating and inviting.

If you weren't Saitou Hajime.

'Do it to defeat the Battousai,' a voice in his head urged. Normally he would dismiss the little voice in his head due to its inferiority, but this suggestion was far too tempting to simply discard.

During his inward musings, Saitou had missed the fact that the instructor, now conveniently without an assistant (thanks to the Mibu Wolf himself), had walked out of the room. She soon trotted back in holding a large cardboard box. Saitou strolled over to the last empty seat, realizing this was the start of the class, and shot a quick glance at the name tag.

Fujita Goro's behind owns this seat and I own his! XOXO

Much love, darling!

-Tokio

P.S. Gatotsu anyone and you're on the couch.

That damn woman was asking for it.

…And she was going to get it.

Moodily ripping off the name tag and shoving it into his pocket, Saitou sat down on his chair and elegantly crossed his legs.

Hey, if he was to be tortured, he may as well look sexy doing it.

"Listen, people! I require that you have hygiene in this class," the instructor crowed, "so please take an apron and pass it down! You must wear it, or I will dismiss your pathetic self from my classroom!"

Twitch.

Oh, hell no.

Saitou warily gazed at the aprons being passed around the table, and nearly gagged at the mere color of the things.

They were all pink.

With little hearts and smiling bunnies playing merrily in the snow.

Saitou did this first thing he could think of to escape the horror.

He fainted.

Not a few minutes later, he woke up with a crowd of worried females slapping his face in an attempt to rouse him. Ignoring the urge to gut them all, Saitou sat up and waved the annoying women away, barking a stern, "I haven't died, fools."

He quickly got off the floor only to realize that his clothes felt a tinge heavier. And, somehow…happier. He looked down.

Twitch.

Those little…

Just as Saitou was about to drift away into some, errr…gory thoughts, a small, oval package was placed on his plate along with the usual Western utensils.

"Please unwrap your Twinkies, everyone."

While the rest of the girls simply tore the wrapping off the oddly named pastry, Saitou stared at the thing and inquisitively raised an eyebrow.

What was this "Twinkie" they spoke of?

Slipping on one of his gloves, Saitou carefully poked and prodded until he was positive the heart attack in cellophane did not have explosive properties.

Satisfied with the examination, the Mibu Wolf took the daring step to actually unwrap the fat incarnate.

No explosions.

…Yet.

Saitou scowled. What was the purpose of this sickeningly sweet confection?

Little did he know he would soon receive his answer...

"Everyone take up your knives and forks and hold them in ready position, STAT!"

Saitou fumbled with the foreign utensils.

"Now SLICE, people, SLICE!"

The Mibu Wolf set his tools down with a superior smirk, reaching to grab a hold of his katana.

A plethora of girls screamed and dove under the tablecloth as Saitou, with a feral gleam in his eyes, Gatotsu-ed the Twinkie.

Silence enveloped the room.

"…Class dismissed."

No more than a week later, Saitou was solemnly sitting in the Tanuki's dojo for dinner.

"Saitou."

"Yes, Battousai?"

"That's not how you're supposed to hold a fork, de gozaru."

Glare.

"Shut up, Battousai."

"…Oro?"

End.

A/N: -shot- I cannot believe I just wrote any of that. XD Special thanks to Roo-san and Saya-san for the Twinkie names! 8D