Practice Makes Perfect (Sometimes), KKM
Title: Practice Makes Perfect (Sometimes)
Author: Ellie Biel
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Characters/pairing: Gwendal, Huber
Genre: gen, humor
Notes: Written in response to allira_dream's prompt using the line "Your daughter asked for what?"
"Your daughter asked for what?"
Gwendal was sure he'd misheard Huber. Maybe it was that Huber had misunderstood Eru, because the child had only barely learned to talk. On the other hand, the way Greta chattered away at her, distracting the maou from his duties to the point where Gwendal had to close the drapes to keep him from turning around in his chair, her vocabulary was growing by leaps and bounds.
That still didn't make her immune from mixing up one word for another, so obviously Huber was mistaken.
"A hare-bat."
Hare-bats were only mythological creatures, but even if they existed, they wouldn't make very good pets. Leathery Kohi-like wings that spanned three horse lengths would create gusts of wind strong enough to knock men from their saddles and would send anyone walking tumbling to the ground, as well as spilling anything they might be carrying. Teeth as long and sharp as his sword made hare-bats dangerous even in the best of circumstances, and legend had it that they weren't terribly fond of the mazoku race.
Stories about these creatures were obviously fabricated by the human race in order to intimidate the mazoku.
"She can't have one."
Huber should have expected Gwendal to state the obvious. He'd already explained that to Eru, but there was a reason why he was bringing it to his cousin's attention. "It's your fault she wants one, you know."
Gwendal stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Huber. "How is that my-" he didn't finish, because Huber was holding out his hand. Dangling from his fingers was a knitted toy, looking the worse for wear since he'd last seen it, with the wings stretched nearly to the point of unraveling.
"This is what she wants," Huber said. "Long ears," he tugged on them both, "and long wings."
Gwendal's eyebrows began to twitch. Like he'd told Huber, Eru couldn't have one. "It's a bearbee."
Huber brought it close to his good eye and stared at it. "A bearbee." A wrinkle to match the one on Gwendal's forehead appeared. "A bearbee."
Gwendal didn't like the amusement that crept into Hube's voice the second time he said it. When Günter got it wrong, he at least had the courtesy of looking chagrined.
Huber didn't say anything more, but a faint smile lingered before he pocketed the toy. "If she really wants one, you know, she'll get one."
"I know."
He watched his cousin walk away, and the wrinkle deepened as a faint chuckle echoed back to him after Hube turned the corner.
When Günter came in to inform him that it was time for dinner, the top of his desk was spilling over with pudgy toys of various sizes.
"They're bearbees!" he snapped before Günter could open his mouth.
Günter flinched and then smiled brightly. "Of course they are."
Gwendal set down his knitting needles and stood up. He straightened his jacket and gestured to the door, indicating that Günter should precede him.
It was good to have things back to normal.