XXXholic/CCS Crossover (Eriol, Tomoyo (semi ExT), Yuuko) G
Life continues to attempt drowning me with piles of laundry and other forgotten chores. But I had to take a break and when I did, Tomoyo knocked on the door.
Ps. Fic has shades of TRC (which, given the Xxxholic is sort of a given).
Disclaimer: CLAMP. Blahblahblah and so forth.
Dedication: To Chelle-sama, of course.
Author's notes: One, this needs a title. Two, I wrote it in less than an hour. Three, the scotch belongs to Chelle-sama. Four: I might continue this. Maybe. It sort of looks like it could be part of something bigger. But I make no committments. EDIT: The scotch does not belong to Chelle-sama! It belongs to Meg! Apparently, Chelle-sama told me a MegPlot and I stole it. I keep stealing the MegPlots!
Ps. This is ALSO a bribe for Meg. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeg...I posted a plot bunny in your journal...
Insert Title Here
“Tomoyo-san?” Eriol blinked blearily at the girl standing on the other side of his door. “Is everything all right? It’s…” he paused, blinking again “dawn.” And England, which he very politely refrained from mentioning.
On the steps, silhouetted in the pink-tinged gray light of daybreak, Tomoyo cocked her head. “Are you aware, Eriol-kun,” she asked, “that Tomoyo-hime feels at liberty to appear in other people’s dreams?”
Eriol dropped his face into his hand, fingers massaging his temples, as he swung the door open for his guest. “I’ve heard as such,” he muttered. He lowered his hand and smiled, gesturing Tomoyo forward. “Not that I’m not delighted that you came for a visit, but do come along into the parlor.” He felt, rather than saw, his Sun Guardian at the base of the stairs. “Spinel, would you be so kind as to fetch out one of the bargaining chips?”
“I’m sorry about the mess, Tomoyo-san,” he apologized as he ushered her into his sitting room. “We weren’t expecting company.”
“Research?” Tomoyo asked, glancing idly at the sheaf of papers she was moving off of a chair.
He shrugged. “It keeps me off the streets.” Tomoyo gave him a dimpled smile and he couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Why is everybody up at the crack of dawn?” Nakuru demanded from the doorway. "Did you bring anybody else with you, Tomoyo-chan? How many people am I making breakfast for? Does Touya-kun think about me?”
“He…probably does?”
“Four, Nakuru, thank you,” Eriol stepped in. “And bring the cordless in here if you please. I have to make a call.”
“At four-thirty in the morning?”
“Yûko.”
Nakuru winced. “Do you want your breakfast in liquid form?”
“Thank you, but no, that won’t be necessary.” He shrugged helplessly at Tomoyo, amused by his life but very aware that his life was a little…politely off beat…at the same time. “Pleasantries aside, I’ll need some details about Tomoyo-hime’s visit.”
Tomoyo was smiling at him. “Eriol-san, there are times that I’m very tempted to ask,” she told him with a slight shake of her head. Her eyes grew solemn. “Tomoyo-hime is sending a ninja to me. While I’m sure it’s a very thoughtful gift in her…”
“Dimension,” Eriol supplied helpfully.
“Thank you, yes, dimension,” she said, as though she’d known but had only been looking for the right word. His estimation of Tomoyo-san’s mettle rose. “I was more worried about his traveling companions. Sakura-chan and Li-kun.”
He felt himself take an involuntary breath. “So soon?” he asked, without really meaning to and not quite sure why. “Master Clow’s memories again, I’m afraid,” he said at the concerned look Tomoyo was aiming at him. “It’s incomplete and I didn’t recall it at all until just recently.”
“Shall I apologize?”
“Not at all. Thank you, Spinel, Nakuru.” He handed the eighteen year old bottle of scotch to Tomoyo. “Hold on to this, if you please.” He began to punch in a series of numbers into the handheld.
“Cripes, Yûko must live on Neptune,” Nakuru observed, flopping onto the sofa.
“One dimension over,” Spinel corrected, settling lazily in the small of her back. “Much closer.”
Eriol held up one hand for silence as the phone began to glow. “Auntie?” He paused, listening. “Ah, yes, her house-boy; Watanuki-san, isn’t it?” He held the phone away from his ear and waited for the audible rage to dissipate. “Yes, in any case, please inform Yûko that I’ll be putting a call through momentarily.” He sighed, watching as Tomoyo tilted her head, looking puzzled. “Hiirigizawa-san,” he informed Watanuki, “and yes, she’ll know what I mean. Make sure Mokona isn’t in the drawing room.”
He hung up and stood, suddenly conscious of his pajamas. The sedate blue had lulled him but he was just now recalling the white sheep that Nakuru had ironed on. “I’ve got to fetch my key,” and change my clothes “in order to connect.”
Nakuru fished around under the couch cushions and offered out his key. “You keep dropping it in here. I’ll pick up a clip for you to put it on after my classes.”
Deliberately avoiding the amused gleam in Tomoyo’s eyes, he opened his circle in the floor. “Auntie?”
“Just because spectacles and I shared blood doesn’t give you the right to call me ‘auntie’,” Yûko replied, shimmering into focus. She was wearing a bikini and holding a drink with an umbrella in it. “Or to call when it’s so hot.”
“It’s summer?” Tomoyo whispered and out the corner of his eye he saw her look out his window to the budding tulips in their box.
He gestured her silent and then smiled charmingly. “We’ll have to discuss what Clow’s instructions regarding you were another time, Auntie, this is a business call.”
Yûko’s eyes narrowed. “Business?”
“A fair and equitable trade,” he confirmed. “Just information.”
She snorted delicately. “If you didn’t have such a need for my information, you wouldn’t have called and offered me yours.”
Curse you, Eriol thought fondly. “You wound me, Auntie,” he said pitifully, trying to look cute. She had a thing for cute and he knew it.
“Not cute enough, little spectacles,” Yûko announced.
“Excuse me,” Tomoyo interrupted, leaning over the circle and into Yûko’s frame of view. “I appreciate the bargaining tactics but I have to be home yet this evening.”
“Home?” Eriol muttered as he glanced at the grandfather clock on the far wall. “Magic can only do so much.”
“Great-Grandfather doesn’t bother with anything so petty,” Tomoyo assured him before turning her attention back to the witch in the floor. “There’s a very old, very nice bottle of scotch sitting here that is possibly your very old, very nice bottle of scotch if you can tell us about a ninja named Kurogane and why Tomoyo-hime seems to believe there is trouble on the way.”
Inside the circle, Yûko smiled a cat’s smile. “Another Tomoyo? And one who has received a visit from Tomoyo-hime?”
Eriol rolled his eyes at Tomoyo. “Only a possibility, Auntie.”
Tomoyo sighed sadly, lifting the booze bottle into the circle’s range. “And Tomoyo-hime seemed to think that you would be so helpful,” she said sorrowfully. “I’m sure she’ll be very disappointed when I tell her that, even with a lovely gift, you refused to extend yourself even a little.”
The look of calculation and fear on the Time-Space Witch’s face did Eriol’s heart good and he made a mental note to let Tomoyo-san know how much he appreciated her incredible intellect. “Well…”
“Not even,” Tomoyo went on mournfully, “to help Sakura and Syaoran, who paid such a price and are doing so much for Yûko-san...”
I love this girl, Eriol thought gleefully. “I’ll give you the bottle as a gift, Auntie,” he said sweetly, “just because. The exchange of information really will be quite equal, since, if I know what to be on the look out for, I will give you what information I gather here.”
The capitulation in Yûko’s eyes was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing Eriol had ever seen. “All right,” she sighed, as though it had been she who had driven the bargain. She held up one hand. “The scotch?”
“After,” Tomoyo said serenely, placing the bottle out of sight on the side table. “It’ll be much more like a gift given at parting that way.”
Eriol beamed. I’m going to marry her and have scotch at our reception. “That’s very thoughtful, Tomoyo-san,” he said obligingly. “Don’t you think so, Auntie?”
Yûko buried her face in her hands before sighing. “What memories did Clow leave for you, little spectacles?”
He settled into business with a smile on his face.
Ps. Fic has shades of TRC (which, given the Xxxholic is sort of a given).
Disclaimer: CLAMP. Blahblahblah and so forth.
Dedication: To Chelle-sama, of course.
Author's notes: One, this needs a title. Two, I wrote it in less than an hour. Three, the scotch belongs to Chelle-sama. Four: I might continue this. Maybe. It sort of looks like it could be part of something bigger. But I make no committments. EDIT: The scotch does not belong to Chelle-sama! It belongs to Meg! Apparently, Chelle-sama told me a MegPlot and I stole it. I keep stealing the MegPlots!
Ps. This is ALSO a bribe for Meg. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeg...I posted a plot bunny in your journal...
Insert Title Here
“Tomoyo-san?” Eriol blinked blearily at the girl standing on the other side of his door. “Is everything all right? It’s…” he paused, blinking again “dawn.” And England, which he very politely refrained from mentioning.
On the steps, silhouetted in the pink-tinged gray light of daybreak, Tomoyo cocked her head. “Are you aware, Eriol-kun,” she asked, “that Tomoyo-hime feels at liberty to appear in other people’s dreams?”
Eriol dropped his face into his hand, fingers massaging his temples, as he swung the door open for his guest. “I’ve heard as such,” he muttered. He lowered his hand and smiled, gesturing Tomoyo forward. “Not that I’m not delighted that you came for a visit, but do come along into the parlor.” He felt, rather than saw, his Sun Guardian at the base of the stairs. “Spinel, would you be so kind as to fetch out one of the bargaining chips?”
“I’m sorry about the mess, Tomoyo-san,” he apologized as he ushered her into his sitting room. “We weren’t expecting company.”
“Research?” Tomoyo asked, glancing idly at the sheaf of papers she was moving off of a chair.
He shrugged. “It keeps me off the streets.” Tomoyo gave him a dimpled smile and he couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Why is everybody up at the crack of dawn?” Nakuru demanded from the doorway. "Did you bring anybody else with you, Tomoyo-chan? How many people am I making breakfast for? Does Touya-kun think about me?”
“He…probably does?”
“Four, Nakuru, thank you,” Eriol stepped in. “And bring the cordless in here if you please. I have to make a call.”
“At four-thirty in the morning?”
“Yûko.”
Nakuru winced. “Do you want your breakfast in liquid form?”
“Thank you, but no, that won’t be necessary.” He shrugged helplessly at Tomoyo, amused by his life but very aware that his life was a little…politely off beat…at the same time. “Pleasantries aside, I’ll need some details about Tomoyo-hime’s visit.”
Tomoyo was smiling at him. “Eriol-san, there are times that I’m very tempted to ask,” she told him with a slight shake of her head. Her eyes grew solemn. “Tomoyo-hime is sending a ninja to me. While I’m sure it’s a very thoughtful gift in her…”
“Dimension,” Eriol supplied helpfully.
“Thank you, yes, dimension,” she said, as though she’d known but had only been looking for the right word. His estimation of Tomoyo-san’s mettle rose. “I was more worried about his traveling companions. Sakura-chan and Li-kun.”
He felt himself take an involuntary breath. “So soon?” he asked, without really meaning to and not quite sure why. “Master Clow’s memories again, I’m afraid,” he said at the concerned look Tomoyo was aiming at him. “It’s incomplete and I didn’t recall it at all until just recently.”
“Shall I apologize?”
“Not at all. Thank you, Spinel, Nakuru.” He handed the eighteen year old bottle of scotch to Tomoyo. “Hold on to this, if you please.” He began to punch in a series of numbers into the handheld.
“Cripes, Yûko must live on Neptune,” Nakuru observed, flopping onto the sofa.
“One dimension over,” Spinel corrected, settling lazily in the small of her back. “Much closer.”
Eriol held up one hand for silence as the phone began to glow. “Auntie?” He paused, listening. “Ah, yes, her house-boy; Watanuki-san, isn’t it?” He held the phone away from his ear and waited for the audible rage to dissipate. “Yes, in any case, please inform Yûko that I’ll be putting a call through momentarily.” He sighed, watching as Tomoyo tilted her head, looking puzzled. “Hiirigizawa-san,” he informed Watanuki, “and yes, she’ll know what I mean. Make sure Mokona isn’t in the drawing room.”
He hung up and stood, suddenly conscious of his pajamas. The sedate blue had lulled him but he was just now recalling the white sheep that Nakuru had ironed on. “I’ve got to fetch my key,” and change my clothes “in order to connect.”
Nakuru fished around under the couch cushions and offered out his key. “You keep dropping it in here. I’ll pick up a clip for you to put it on after my classes.”
Deliberately avoiding the amused gleam in Tomoyo’s eyes, he opened his circle in the floor. “Auntie?”
“Just because spectacles and I shared blood doesn’t give you the right to call me ‘auntie’,” Yûko replied, shimmering into focus. She was wearing a bikini and holding a drink with an umbrella in it. “Or to call when it’s so hot.”
“It’s summer?” Tomoyo whispered and out the corner of his eye he saw her look out his window to the budding tulips in their box.
He gestured her silent and then smiled charmingly. “We’ll have to discuss what Clow’s instructions regarding you were another time, Auntie, this is a business call.”
Yûko’s eyes narrowed. “Business?”
“A fair and equitable trade,” he confirmed. “Just information.”
She snorted delicately. “If you didn’t have such a need for my information, you wouldn’t have called and offered me yours.”
Curse you, Eriol thought fondly. “You wound me, Auntie,” he said pitifully, trying to look cute. She had a thing for cute and he knew it.
“Not cute enough, little spectacles,” Yûko announced.
“Excuse me,” Tomoyo interrupted, leaning over the circle and into Yûko’s frame of view. “I appreciate the bargaining tactics but I have to be home yet this evening.”
“Home?” Eriol muttered as he glanced at the grandfather clock on the far wall. “Magic can only do so much.”
“Great-Grandfather doesn’t bother with anything so petty,” Tomoyo assured him before turning her attention back to the witch in the floor. “There’s a very old, very nice bottle of scotch sitting here that is possibly your very old, very nice bottle of scotch if you can tell us about a ninja named Kurogane and why Tomoyo-hime seems to believe there is trouble on the way.”
Inside the circle, Yûko smiled a cat’s smile. “Another Tomoyo? And one who has received a visit from Tomoyo-hime?”
Eriol rolled his eyes at Tomoyo. “Only a possibility, Auntie.”
Tomoyo sighed sadly, lifting the booze bottle into the circle’s range. “And Tomoyo-hime seemed to think that you would be so helpful,” she said sorrowfully. “I’m sure she’ll be very disappointed when I tell her that, even with a lovely gift, you refused to extend yourself even a little.”
The look of calculation and fear on the Time-Space Witch’s face did Eriol’s heart good and he made a mental note to let Tomoyo-san know how much he appreciated her incredible intellect. “Well…”
“Not even,” Tomoyo went on mournfully, “to help Sakura and Syaoran, who paid such a price and are doing so much for Yûko-san...”
I love this girl, Eriol thought gleefully. “I’ll give you the bottle as a gift, Auntie,” he said sweetly, “just because. The exchange of information really will be quite equal, since, if I know what to be on the look out for, I will give you what information I gather here.”
The capitulation in Yûko’s eyes was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing Eriol had ever seen. “All right,” she sighed, as though it had been she who had driven the bargain. She held up one hand. “The scotch?”
“After,” Tomoyo said serenely, placing the bottle out of sight on the side table. “It’ll be much more like a gift given at parting that way.”
Eriol beamed. I’m going to marry her and have scotch at our reception. “That’s very thoughtful, Tomoyo-san,” he said obligingly. “Don’t you think so, Auntie?”
Yûko buried her face in her hands before sighing. “What memories did Clow leave for you, little spectacles?”
He settled into business with a smile on his face.