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Tis the Season to be Jolly by Aimee Blue

Tis the Season to be Jolly

Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha.

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Inuyasha had a plan. A most devious plan indeed.

His mother, for reasons unfathomable to him, had invited his asshole of a half-brother over for Christmas. Not only was he a jerk, his older brother was also bringing a girl with him, even though he wasn’t allowed to invite Kikyo over because it was a ‘family only’ occasion. She would probably be some doting girl who thought the sun shone out of Sesshoumaru’s ass and who hated him purely because Sesshoumaru did.

The plan had come to him in a most unusual way. Usually Inuyasha didn’t plan, normally planning ended badly for him. The last plan he had attempted had resulted in a very painful experience; apparently Sesshoumaru didn’t take kindly to people trying to dye his hair pink while he slept. Who knew?

Still the plan came in a flash of inspiration or perhaps we should call it a smack of inspiration.

He was sat, sulking due to the impending arrival of his half-brother, at the kitchen table with both his mother and his father.

It was snowing softly and his mother was sat at the table next to him reading the novel she had bought for herself for Christmas. His father was stood by the oven, glaring at the turkey viciously. It seemed that the turkey wasn’t cooking properly; the skin should have been golden but was still looking anaemic.

“Shouldn’t the asshole be here by now?” Inuyasha grumbled, “He’s too anal to be late.”

He ducked quickly as his irate father threw an oven glove at him. “Language!” he cautioned before turning back to the oven.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes as his father cooed to the turkey whilst basting it. His mother smiled condescendingly at him and smirked at his father.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” she enquired and smiled impishly when all she got was a growl in return.

“Is everyone deaf?” Inuyasha mumbled, irate at his questions being ignored, “Where’s the asshole?” he ducked the other oven glove that came winging his way.

“He’s already here.” His mother pointed at the ceiling above them demonstratively. “When you were playing on that games console of yours, he and his girlfriend arrived.”

“So, why aren’t they here?” Inuyasha asked incredulously.

“They were jetlagged; it’s a long way from Okinawa to here,” Izayoi scolded.

He snorted. “It’s only an hour and a half flight.” He rolled his eyes. “I bet I know what they’re doing up there, and it sure as hell isn’t sleeping.”

This time the projectile narrowly missed Inuyasha’s cranium and he glanced disbelievingly behind him at the dent in the plaster board wall. “What in the world?”

“Mind out of the gutter,” his father barked, without ever glancing in his direction.

“Why’d you throw a brick at me?” Inuyasha demanded.

Izayoi started to snigger.

“That was my home cooked fruitcake!” his father growled before turning to fix his son with a murderous glare.

“And what did you make it with, cement?” Inuyasha was dubious and not paying close enough attention to his already riled up father. This time, the fruitcake glanced off the side of his head before knocking the book straight out of his mother’s hand.

“Ow!” Inuyasha grumbled, “That thing is a brick in disguise.”

“Please,” Izayoi giggled, “be nice to your father; he’s been trying to make one all day!” And then she collapsed onto the table, choking on her laughter as her husband glared at her.

Inuyasha glared at the fruitcake shaped missile that had probably bruised his head and the proverbial light bulb of inspiration pinged to life above his head.

Time for some good old fashioned pay back.

“Dad, do you have any more of those?”

Sesshoumaru was the world’s worst ‘morning person’; Sesshoumaru in the morning was analogous to Godzilla stomping on Tokyo; destructive and painful. But the best thing was that in the mornings, though he was a grumpy bastard, he was a bewildered grumpy bastard. He basically had no idea which way was up or down, and all he did was growl and snap at whatever came near.

So Inuyasha had a plan. And he was determined it would work. And, as they say, a determined Hanyou is a dead Hanyou. Or, at least the phrase was about to come into fashion...

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Kagome was wrenched from the soft, comfortingly warm world of her dreams into reality by a loud bang. One bleary blue eye opened to half-mast and drooped closed again when no disturbance was noted. It shot open again a few minutes later when another bang was heard.

The eye blinked a few times and her right arm, which she had thrown over her head sometime in the night, swatted around her head a bit to try and get rid of the disturbance. Another bang was heard and the second eye reluctantly opened to survey its surroundings as well. She arched her back up off the bed, and stretched her arms up to the ceiling before squinting around the room once again.

Boyfriend? Check. Bed? Check. Room as it was last night? Check.

So, what was the noise?

The bang sounded again, louder this time, so she threw open the curtains to the window and squinted against the sudden light to see outside.

Unexpectedly, there was no mutant woodpecker knocking on the glass to the bedroom. Which obviously meant something else was amiss. She looked back at the bed and the naked expanse of her boyfriend’s back and rolled her eyes. He’d sleep through anything.

She quickly donned his dark blue shirt and a pair of his boxers were pilfered from his drawer before she decided to investigate the mysterious banging noise.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the bang was heard again and turned to glare at the door. It sounded like someone was repeatedly lobbing a bowling ball at the door.

She pushed the door out of her way and quickly ducked as something whizzed past her head, impacting with the door behind to leave a dent.

“What the?” she queried, turning around to see a sheepish looking Hanyou with the cutest dog ears looking at her.

“Who are you?” the Hanyou dropped the sheepish look pretty quickly and abruptly became cocky.

“I’m Kagome,” she replied, “Is it not customary to ask someone’s name before you try to kill them?”

She glanced behind her at the projectile that had nearly taken her head off. “What is that anyway? And what were you doing?”

“I was trying to piss the asshole off,” the Hanyou said as he shrugged. Kagome realised he was probably the fabled Inuyasha. “And it’s my dad’s fruitcake”

Kagome looked back down at the small bomb-type object and back at the twitchy eared guy standing in front of her. Apparently Sesshoumaru hadn’t been exaggerating his brother in the least.

She smirked and Inuyasha gulped, he knew that smirk; it was the smirk Sesshoumaru gave before he killed something.

Kagome, usually a kind and gentle spirit, had snapped and woes betide anyone who stoked her ire.

“So, let me get this straight,” the woman mused in a cheerful voice that was coated with a venom that made Inuyasha want to run for the hills. Unfortunately, fear made the hanyou unable to flee. “You threw fruitcake-bombs at the door purely to wake up Sesshoumaru? Not only that, but you nearly decapitated me for no reason?”

He nodded dumbly, his mind warning him that speaking probably wasn’t such a good idea right now.

“Do you have any more of those fruitcakes?” she enquired and, like the idiot he was, he handed her the rather large Tupperware box full of fruit-cake-like ammo.

She smiled and hefted one in her hand, holding it like a shot put. “I’d run if I were you,” she advised.

Sesshoumaru returned slowly into the world of consciousness to discover his girlfriend, wearing his shirt, chasing his brother around the house whilst lobbing something that looked and smelled like fruitcake. Except fruitcake didn’t usually leave dents in plaster.

He spotted his stepmother and his father standing in the door to their room as they watched the chase.

“What is going on?” he questioned.

“Inuyasha’s ambush backfired,” his father noted and then chuckling he said, “I think you caught yourself a keeper there.”

“Kagome!” Sesshoumaru called, “I think it’s a bit early to be beating up the idiot.” Though he would admit it was one of his favourite pastimes.

She blinked at him and pelted a fruitcake at Inuyasha in perfect synchronicity. “Why, what time is it?”

“Nine in the morning.”

She growled and turned back to the cowering half demon. “You mean that you woke me up early?” she screeched.

Inuyasha whimpered. “Hey, asshole!” He turned his attention on his brother. “Don’t just stand there; control the crazy bitch!”

“What did you call me?” Kagome demanded as she threw another brick-like fruitcake at Inuyasha’s equally hard head.

“I’m sorry!” he yelped as he ran away from the crazy woman.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Izayoi questioned.

Sesshoumaru snorted and then smiled deviously. “Of course not. Who am I to deny Kagome the pleasure of tormenting her prey?”

“I’m sorry!” Inuyasha howled from down stairs.

They all listened intently to the dull thunk followed by a louder smack and looked at each other.

“Tis the season to be jolly,” Sesshoumaru quipped as he retreated back into his room with a rather satisfied grin on his face.

It seemed it had been a good idea to invite Kagome home for Christmas.

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A/N: Take this as my present to you for the holidays! Also even though I did beat Inuyasha up in this fic I still love him!

 

INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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