I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
The Way the Christmas Cookie Crumbles
Bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor, Fran shuffled down the hallway towards the living room. A passing glance at the grandfather clock positioned beside the entryway told him that it was passed noon. Considering no one had burst into his room, shouting curses and threating to beat him within an inch of his life, he figured that there was nothing particular happening that day.
Yawning softly, he stepped into the living room, where he found Belphegor sitting on the couch, a plastic container in hand. Blinking, he squinted at the food the young adult was shovelling into his mouth. When he realized the blonde was stuffing Christmas-tree shaped cookies into his mouth, he shouted, "Don't eat those!"
It was rare for Fran to ever raise his voice and when he did there was normally a good reason for it. Belphegor wasted no time in flinging the plastic container as far away from him as possible and bent over the back of couch, hacking chewed-up clumps of cookie to the floor.
"Who messed with them?" he rasped, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "I better not need to have my stomach pumped again!"
Fran surveyed the cookies that flew out of the plastic container. There were only three sugar cookies left out of the two dozen Lussuria had baked the previous night. "Didn't you read the note?"
"There wasn't a note!" Belphegor snapped.
"There should have been. Luss made those for the Christmas party tonight. I found the container last night and the only reason I didn't eat any was because there was a note that vividly painted a picture of what would happen to me if I even touched them."
Blinking, Belphegor slouched over the edge of the couch, the almost twenty-four cookies he had consumed suddenly not feeling so good in his stomach. "Damn," he muttered. "This is bull. There wasn't a note! How was I supposed to know?"
Fran slipped out of the room and returned a minute later, holding a small square piece of paper. Belphegor snatched it out of his hand and read it intently. Lussuria's neat scrawl dominated the lines and did indeed promise to inflict severe injury.
"It must have fallen off. That's why you didn't see it," spoke Fran.
Belphegor scowled and flung the note to the side. "Do you think I can skewer him before he bashes my face in?"
"You can try. I doubt you'll succeed." Fran went over and picked up the plastic container. "Looks like your Christmas present this year is going to be a broken body."
"Where is he now?" demanded Belphegor, the gears in his brain slowly turning.
"How should I know? I just got up."
"Clean up," the blonde ordered. "I'll be right back."
Before Fran could argue, he sped out of the living room. Shaking his head, the fourteen-year-old decided he was too lazy to put up a fight and started cleaning up the broken cookies. He went into the kitchen, dumping the pieces into the trash and setting the container on the counter. He grabbed a paper towel and used it to clean up the chewed cookie Belphegor had hacked up.
Just as he was finishing Belphegor came to retrieve him. His car keys dangled from his finger and he was wearing his leather jacket and black buckle boots. "Come on," he snapped. "We're gonna fix this."
"We?" repeated Fran, arching an eyebrow. "I didn't do anything."
"Shut up, you don't have a choice. You're gonna be my Christmas elf."
"Whatever," he muttered. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, anyways. "Let me get dressed—"
"We don't have time for that! Who knows when he'll be back?" Belphegor grabbed Fran roughly by the arm and dragged him down the hall and towards the front door.
"I am not going out like this," snapped Fran, shifting out of Belphegor's grip. "There's snow on the ground, loser."
"You're a pain in the rear, you know that?" Belphegor scowled. He lunged forwards and grabbed Fran by the waist. Hoisting the teen over his shoulder, he strode out of the mansion and down the salt-strewn driveway.
Fran slapped Belphegor's back in irritation. "You're such a jerk. I hope Luss knocks a few teeth out."
Ignoring him, Belphegor opened the back door of his red sports car and tossed the boy inside. Huffing, Fran buckled up and watched with a frown as Belphegor climbed into the driver's seat and started the car up.
"Where are we going?"
"To the grocery store," answered Belphegor, manoeuvring his vehicle down the driveway and onto the road.
Fran arched an eyebrow. "I don't know how to make cookies from scratch."
"Neither do I. That's why we're gonna buy premade sugar cookies and bake those," countered Belphegor. "Does he have any icing and sprinkles left?"
"Yeah, he should. He bought more than enough."
"Then we're going to freaking do this."
They rolled into the parking lot of the grocery store a few minutes later. Fran glanced out the window, staring at the mounds of sparkling white snow and patches of ice. Sighing softly, he reluctantly climbed out after Belphegor parked, his red-and-black plaid pajama bottoms and dark red, oversized long-sleeved sleep shirt offering little protection against the bitter wind.
His feet were completely bare since Belphegor didn't let him grab his shoes. He picked his way across the frosty cement, pricks of pain shooting through his flesh with every cautious step. Belphegor glanced over his shoulder and frowned slightly. "Where are your shoes, dork?"
"I don't know, ask the guy who manhandled me out of the house," snapped Fran.
"Don't know who that is," retorted Belphegor. He paused and bent down slightly. "Get on before you get frostbite, Froggy."
Fran launched himself onto the blonde's back, causing him to stumble a few steps with a grunt. Straightening, Belphegor looped his hands under Fran's knees as the teen wrapped his arms around Belphegor's neck.
"Did I break something, old geezer?" Fran asked innocently.
"Do I look like Old Man Levi to you?" snorted Belphegor.
He entered the grocery store, which was surprisingly not so busy, considering it was Christmas Eve. Fran's feet buzzed with warmth and he wiggled his toes to work out the numbness. Belphegor went over to the frozen section, not bothering to set Fran down.
"You know Luss is going to notice the difference, right?" asked Fran, peering over Belphegor's head at the packets of cookie dough, some wrapped in tubes and some precut.
"Well, he won't be eating any until the party, so at least he won't notice until then." Belphegor picked a red-and-green pack of sugar cookie dough, cut into the shapes of Christmas trees. He read the baking directions. "Twelve cookies, bake for fifteen to twenty minutes."
"I think that'll work."
Grabbing another package, Belphegor went over to the checkout and paid for his items. Fran held onto them as they crossed the parking lot once more. He climbed off Belphegor's back and clambered into the backseat.
"Here's hoping Luss isn't home yet."
Silently agreeing, Belphegor sped home. The two raced into the mansion, which was just as quiet as they had left it. "Let's hurry up and do this," hissed Belphegor.
They entered the kitchen and Belphegor turned the oven to the highest setting. Fran tore open the packages and arranged the Christmas tree-shaped cookie dough onto two trays. "We can stick them in now, but they might have to cook for a bit longer." He then caught sight of the temperature Belphegor had set the oven to and amended, "Never mind."
Belphegor grabbed the trays and slipped them onto the oven racks. "Get the icing and crap out."
Fran hustled over to the pantry and dragged out the red plastic container of green frosting and glass shakers of Christmas-themed sprinkles. Belphegor tapped his foot impatiently, eyes glued on the oven. "How long is it gonna take for this thing to heat up?"
"I dunno, it's not like I spend any more time in here than you do," replied Fran.
Since Belphegor had cranked up the heat, it didn't take long for the cookies to completely cook. Fran slipped on an oven mitt and pulled the racks out one by one. "We're going to have to wait for them to cool before we can decorate them."
"Why?" demanded Belphegor.
"Because the icing will melt if you put it on when the cookies are hot."
"Why the hell does that matter?"
"I don't know. I just hear Luss going on about it sometimes."
"I'll ice them, you sprinkle."
"Typical Varia business," quipped Fran, grabbing a shaker of sprinkles.
Belphegor, to his credit, was being as neat as he could as he applied the green frosting. There were no globs and none spilled over the edge of the cookie. Fran added a thin layer of sprinkles to each iced cookie and when he went to decorate one close to the edge of the tray his wrist accidentally touched the burning metal.
"Ow!" he yelped in surprise, dropping the sprinkles. It clattered to the counter and the top popped off, sprinkles spraying everywhere. Ignoring Belphegor's curse, he raced over to the sink and turned on the cold water. He stuck his burnt flesh under the stream.
"You're cleaning this up," grumbled Belphegor as he finished icing the cookies.
"Whatever." Fran reached for the tap and his hand stilled when he suddenly sensed a rapidly approaching presence. "Someone's—"
"Well, well, well. What have we here?"
"Coming," finished Fran softly.
Belphegor slowly looked over his shoulder. His lips thinned into a nervous line when he found Lussuria leaning against the doorframe, a dangerous aura surrounding him. "Crap."
For a moment, the Sun Varia didn't say anything. He studied the kitchen thoroughly, from his empty plastic container to the freshly constructed cookies. Fran turned off the water and stepped away from the sink. The air crackled with tension as Fran and Belphegor waited for Lussuria to speak.
"I thought I left strict instructions to leave my cookies alone," he said softly, danger rumbling beneath his tone.
Belphegor glared at the floor. Fran watched as his hands formed fists and his posture stiffened and the teal-haired child knew then that he could not let Belphegor take the full blame. Not on Christmas.
"We're sorry," he spoke, causing Belphegor to look at him in hidden surprise. "We didn't see the note until after we ate them. We were trying to cover it up by replacing your cookies with ours."
Lussuria arched an eyebrow. "With store bought cookie dough? Have you no respect?"
"Sorry," Belphegor muttered.
Clicking his tongue, Lussuria moved into the kitchen to inspect the cookies the two had prepared. "Suppose we'll keep these for the others. No sense in wasting them."
Belphegor exchanged a quick glance with Fran. "So…you're not mad?" he asked slowly.
Lussuria smiled slightly. "I figured something like this would happen. Can't having anything nice around with you people. But it does seem like it was an accident, so you're forgiven. You will have to assist me in making a new batch, however."
"We can do that," said Fran, relieved.
"Sure," agreed Belphegor. Though he made it a rule not to do such menial household tasks, he figured he could make an exception.
Satisfied, Lussuria nodded. "Wonderful. Bel-chan, put your cookies into a different container. Fran-chan, go get dressed. If Xan-chan comes home and catches you still in your pajamas, he's going to have a fit."
"Hai."
Lussuria went over to the pantry to gather the ingredients they would need. Belphegor set a hand on Fran's shoulder before he could head out of the kitchen. "Thanks, Froggy," he said in a low voice.
Fran looked at him with a slight smile. "Eh, don't mention it. We're always getting into trouble together. Why should Christmas be any different?"
Grinning, Belphegor bumped the teen's shoulder with his. "True."
"Get those tushes moving," sang Lussuria. "Before I use my wooden spoon on them."
"Hai!"
