Mana here. I figured I'd try my hand at GregoryxChristophe. I've grown rather fond of the pairing, and there isn't enough of them out there for me to enjoy.

Cake is for …

Christophe stared gloomily out the window of a particularly fancy bakery Gregory had somehow managed to drag him to. He hated these kinds of bakeries. When they first walked in, his muddy and ragged attire had already received some unkind glances. He was a mercenary, a tough hardcore mercenary. He hadn't the desire to sit in frilly lacy purgatory and play tea party.

But the war on Canada was over, he had been brought to life somehow, and Gregory couldn't be happier, so he decided to put up with it for just a few hours longer. He did enjoy Gregory's smile.

"Is something the matter, Christophe?"

Gregory looked up at him after taking a sip of his hot cocoa.

He turned his head to acknowledge the blonde.

"Non, just tired," he yawned, "eet was a long day."

"Well, not everyday you fight a war, die and come back to life, right?"

"I wouldn't have been dead if it wasn't for zat fat fuck."

"Really, you mustn't be so sour about that," Gregory rolled his eyes at him.

"Yes, but it was his fault I was killed, and what's more, he let me get killed by guard dogs. I FUCKING HATE GUARD DOGS!"

He recalled the vicious Dobermans snapping and gnawing at his flesh while he so desperately tried his best to climb out of the hole. A low growl escaped his throat when he remembered coming out of the hole, exclaiming that the alarms hadn't been shut off and Eric Cartman casually saying "yeah, that was my bad, sorry."

God, how he hated Eric Cartman.

He gave that fat bastard the simplest task! How in hell could he manage to screw it up? His blood boiled just thinking about it.

Whatever. The war's over. He's alive. Gregory's happy.

He went back to staring out the window. It had been overcast all day and now the first raindrops began to appear on the glass.

A waitress had appeared at their table with a particularly large slice of white cake with white butter crème icing. Gregory's eyes lit up as she set it on his place. Christophe watched as he dug happily in to the soft treat. It looked so good, but he knew better. He was a mercenary, and he had trained for all his life. He had been taught to ignore things like cake or other sweets. Such would weigh a person down, make them lose focus and then it will all be over. Like that Cartman.

"Nothing for you, Christophe?" Gregory asked as he licked some icing off his fork.

"Non," Christophe replied tartly.

"Oh, come on, you have to have something. Would you like to share? I'm afraid I can't finish it by myself."

He offered his fork to ze Mole, but he pushed it away.

"I hate cake."

"Nobody hates cake."

"Cake is for pussies. Eet's too soft and sweet."

"Ah, the great Christophe, who can dig his way through Hell and back, is not only afraid of puppy dogs, but also sweet pastries?"

Gregory took another bite, further mocking Christophe.

"Beetch."

Christophe snatched Gregory's fork and took a bite of the cake. It was good! It's been a while since he had something actually good to eat, so he wasted no time in devouring it.

Gregory chuckled as one who had just beaten his rival in a gentlemanly game of chess.

"Well then?"

Christophe flipped him off and finished the rest of the cake.

"That was mine, you know."

"I'll buy you anuzzer."

Gregory laughed again.

"Leetle pussy," he mumbled as he took his wallet out.

XX

Not bad, I don't think. I felt the ending came crashing down though. Ah well, I do like this pairing very much.