A/N: YES this is a class in Fate, albeit one we know little about.

Would someone be a dear and give a Most Unlikely Shielder a review-if you haven't already?-that story is my baby and I feel like its going unnoticed amongst all these others. A Most Unlikely Archer is in the same boat, but given where that story takes place, I can understand the lack of interest.

I'm afraid folks won't like this as much as the others, but I said I'd do it, so here it is...

...please like it. T_T

Also!

A Most Unlikely Faker got a positive reception! 0_0

*blinks rapidly*

Well, I'm rather surprised! I knew I was taking a risk with that kind of story, but everyone adored it! Thank you~! As promised, the next two stories-this and another-won't be quite as dark. I don't like dragging Naruto through the dirt like that. It hurts me, you know?

Lets go over the classes that are left-I ain't doing Launcher!-so thus far, we have: Saver(being written), Alter Ego, Foreigner, Moon Cancer, Watcher (this!) and Beast. MAYBE Gunner.

Don't get started on the (False) or (True) variants from Fate Strange Fake. Or the Grand Servants...

Speaking of which, does anybody like Mecha!Naruto from that one game? Yes? No?

Consider this a separate iteration of sorts, a what-if story on the part of Master!Naruto from (A Most Unlikely Master) in truth. We all know that one's a right and proper lazy bastard who doesn't give much care to the world and is content to live as he pleases. Now, we all know (A Most Unlikely Fake) was a dark turn on that tale, what the pain of cursed immortality can do to ones body and soul. I had a blast writing that, but there's a third aspect to consider. What of a healthy immortal who actually had a goal?

Here, we're going to see absolute monsters of Servants. The top brass, if you will.

And now the wheel of Fate turns once more.

Welcome back to Apocrypha, folks; welcome To A Most Unlikely Watcher.

To the best Lancer that was or will be! FOR THE ONE AND ONLY SCATHACH! I DARE YE TO PROVE ME WRONG!

As ever, this will be gone in two days if folks don't like it. I've stood by that promise so far and I will stand by this. Do let me know!

"Why do you fight, boy? Is there something you want to protect? Is there someone you have to kill?

...as I expected. Hmm. Yes. I think I'll entrust this to you. Use it well.

"Perhaps you'll be able to kill me someday."

~An Unlikely Meeting.

A Most Unlikely Watcher

When I was a boy, I saw something.

Hmm, I suppose you could say that I saw someone.

Now that I think on it, everything really began that day, didn't it?

It was a dark and moonless evening; it was the night we mourned the Third Hokage and all the fallen. I remember the funeral. I remember the rain, the way the heavens wept and unleashed their fury. Thunder shook sky and earth alike. Lightning ripped through the clouds to shatter the world. I'd never seen a storm like that before. It was horrible. But beyond that...the anger. We'd lost so many. It only made sense that people would be upset but that night...that storm...I still can't find the words for it.

The wind howled like it had a voice that night, rain scoured stone and street alike.

It was almost as if the gods themselves were weeping that night; like a gate had opened somewhere in the sky and all the evils of our world had come pouring through for that one singular storm. A faint, fleeting hope for morning, swallowed by hatred, dashed by rage. That was a...bad time for me. I thought we had won. We'd defended the village. I thought everything would be better after that. I was wrong.

I was naive.

In my mind's eye, I thought we would escape without a single casualty. Really, what was I thinking? Only a boy would believe such. I may have beaten Gaara without killing him, but that didn't save Sakura in time. Hells, it didn't even save Sasuke. That mark of his...he must've used it too much or something; because it killed him. He died of a heart attack while I wrestled with Shukaku . Of all the ways to go, I don't think he expected to go out like that. Perhaps if I'd gone for that lunatic's throat from the get-go, they might have lived. Perhaps not. Instead I was left to wallow in the knowledge that I'd failed.

So many dead.

So many just...gone.

I won't lie. I was...angry.

I was looking for someone to blame for my failures, and in my fury, I latched onto the one person responsible for it all. Orochimaru. That snake. THAT DAMN SNAKE! He'd done this. Destroyed the village. Unleashed Gaara on everyone. Killed the Hokage. It was his fault. If he'd just stayed away, none of this would've happened, or so I told myself. Again, naive. It never once occurred to me to blame Gaara; even now I can't bring myself to say it was his fault when he was manipulated like the rest of us. No, my hatred lay with that damn dirty viper.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to throttle him, wherever he was.

It wasn't enough that he was wounded; wasn't enough that he'd lost his arms.

I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to suffer the same way that the old geezer had before he died.

Maybe all that death opened up...a portal or something. A brief window between words, something that allowed someone to slip through for a time. It could've been something else entirely. I don't know. Never was terribly good at space-time ninjutsu or seals. I still don't truly understand how our paths-worlds!-crossed then. Looking back, it shouldn't have been possible. Reality doesn't work like that. One does not simply shatter the laws of space and time like a piece of glass. If we could, I suspect we would've found other worlds outside of our own a long time ago. I'm rambling, aren't I?

Eternity has a way of doing that to you.

After all, when one has all the time in the world-when there's no finish line at the end of the race-one tends to drag their feet. Blast, I'm doing it again!

Regardless, I wasn't sure what made me wander that night, only that I did. My feet carried me of their own will. Eventually I found myself drawn back to where it all began. Where I'd been thrown into a lake and tied to a post. Where we'd eaten that lunch together. Where we became a team. Now only two of us remained. Still, that training ground brought me some semblance of comfort, if only for the memories.

I met Death that night, in that place.

At first I thought I was looking at a ghost. She certainly looked like one.

Hers was a flickering figure, wavering and indistinct, one that could've faded at any moment and well might have if left well enough alone. She looked...lost. At first it seemed as though she were just wandering aimlessly without purpose. Knowing what I know now, that wasn't the case. She was looking for something. Someone. Then she saw me. This wraith, this apparition, this woman clad in dark amethyst, face half-masked yet framed by dark violet tresses, blazing red eyes glaring holes through the world and everyone in it. The eyes of a killer.

Faced with that gaze, I nearly turned tail and ran with my tail between my legs.

Any sane soul would have gotten the hell out of there, let me tell you!

Back then, I wasn't feeling particularly sane at the moment.

You, I don't think she would've let me escape even if I did run; because one of those crimson spears swept up under my throat before I could so much as take a single step. What came next altered the course of my life forever. Lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating her mask and the face behind it. She could've killed me then. She didn't. She said she "knew that look", that I reminded her of someone. Still not rightly sure what-or who-she meant by that remark, but something stayed her hand regardless.

Instead she asked me three questions.

One after the other, each harsher than the last.

"Why do you fight, boy? Is there something you want to protect? Is there someone you have to kill?"

My silence must've satisfied her in some measure, because she didn't murder me outright. She just...looked at me. I still don't know what she saw. Perhaps she pitied me, this ghost from the other side of the world, this eternal specter whom death itself had forsaken. Perhaps she saw a kindred spirit. Perhaps she simply did what she did on a whim? Who can I say? Even now, I still don't consider myself the sharpest tool in the shed. Sure, I can fight and fuck with the best of them these days, but overthinking things-outside of combat!-was never my strong suit.

I'll never forget her response.

"As I expected." she'd nodded. "Hmm. Yes. I think I'll entrust this to you." she'd raised her weapon. "Perhaps you'll be able to kill me someday."

She gave me one of her spears and vanished in the next instant. I never saw her again.

And yet those words, that weapon, stuck with me throughout the rest of my life. It defined me. Drove me. I had next-to-no-talent with a spear or lance, but I resolved myself to learn. I was horrible. It was far too long for me by half; I had to learn to wield it at arms length, and even then I didn't gain any real skill until others helped me. Frankly, I was just swinging Gae Bolg like a big bloody stick until Tenten finally took pity on me. If not for her, if she hadn't helped to set me on the proper path...well. I suppose I paid her back in the end.

Jiraiya thought I was hopeless at first, but he didn't make me give it up, even when he took me out of the village for those three years.

By the time we returned, I wielded "her" spear like I was born to it. I learned to harness the weapon and its secrets in spite of-or perhaps despite-the curse it carried. Hmm. Did that spear make me a bit of a battle maniac I wonder? Who can say? Some would say I'd always been a bit of a hothead to begin with, but losing Sakura and Sasuke changed me. Perhaps for the better. Or the worse. Who can say? Their passing did not harden me; on the contrary, their deaths made me all the more determined to live my life. And live I did.

I was never bound by a painful promise.

I never forged a broken bond that wasn't meant to last.

Never forced to shackle myself to a false love that would never be.

But what comes after vengeance? What does one do when they reach their goal?

Years later, when I finally drove that spear into Orochimaru's chest and pierced his rotten heart for the final time, I had my answer. I didn't feel hollow. I didn't feel empty; on the contrary, I was relieved. In killing him I'd fulfilled my obligations to my teammates. Now I could move on to the earnest wish that had consumed the whole of my being for the last three years. A boy's wish, but one I couldn't bring myself to let go of.

I wanted to see "her" again.

So I watched.

I listened.

My hands searched for clues wherever I could find them; I read tattered scrolls and studied ancient seals; I dove to darkened depths in ruins dotting the ocean floor. I became obsessed with knowledge; some might even say it consumed me, made me another Orochimaru. I disagree. I didn't want to be immortal. I never experimented on anyone. I never dissected children. I disdained the idea. I simply watched. I read. I...learned. What little funds I accumulated on missions in turn found themselves funneled into my research, all for naught.

Then war came, a war to end all others.

Throughout it all, I fought.

Gods, did I fight.

I saved my teacher, and I crushed a man who called himself Pain. My spear never missed. It knew no equal. I used it to kill immortals and gods alike. I marched armies of shadow clones-such a useful jutsu-to my enemy's doorstep and I rained hell down upon every foul soul lurking there. Back then, I just wanted them gone, so I struck as coldly and quickly as I could. Have you ever experienced a rain of Gae Bolg from the sky? Its quite the sight. Obito and Madara never stood a chance, nor what came...after.

Lord of the Bloody Lance, they called me.

I'm not fond of the name, but it stuck. It made me a legend.

What good are legends? Time always twists and warps them, I've found.

I wound up with an overabundance of the latter, though not through my choosing.

By the end of the war, I was left with the life-force of nine tailed beasts burning through my veins with no way to safely disperse them. Instead the Ten-Tails was reborn in me. Don't look at me like that. I had no choice. Anyone who could handle that power was either dead, or unwilling to try. There was no one else to take up the mantle. My existence had already begun to diverge long before that moment, but taking in so much energy all at once...well, it changes a man. I might've been closer to a pseudo demi-god thanks to that spear, but becoming the host for that thing...it pushed me to the level of a divine spirit.

My hair turned white and I grew horns that very day. Its almost ironic. If I were to die, I'd surely qualify as a Lancer Servant.

The idea at the time was that the Son Goku and the others were safer with me, rather than being sealed away where they could one day be unleashed again. I agreed to the concept, expecting to die a few decades or so down the road. I told myself I'd find a way to unleash that power without breaking the world somewhere down the line. Years passed. Decades. Centuries.

But I didn't die.

In the end, I chose to travel. My feet have traversed the world, mine eyes seen horrors untold, yet I emerged unscathed through them all. I went to the reverse side of the world and glimpsed the wonders there. I became aware of...so much more. Worlds beyond my own, other versions of myself fighting in grand battles I couldn't even begin to imagine. Dozens of them. Some like me, others more foreign than the stars themselves. I still couldn't find "her" in any of those worlds, those glimpses, so rather than trespass where I wasn't wanted, I opted to remain. And there, at the core of it all, the one pulling the strings, drawing all together...something horrible. Something even I didn't dare to face. Something coming for all of us, someday.

I chose to wait.

I chose to observe.

I chose to, well...Watch.

What had once been human became something else entirely; I watched and waited as the world of the ninja and chakra eventually fell, as it gave rise to the world of magus and magic. Of Servants and Grails. And with their coming, I saw my chance. Watching had its benefits. When one does naught but watch, people mistake curiosity for cowardice. By the time I'd fashioned my plan, three Grail Wars had already passed. I arrived too late to do anything more than see the end of the third and clean up after it...

...but not too late to glimpse a Servant. I knew my goal was real then, that I could reach it.

So I sealed the bulk of my power tightly inside myself endeavored to hide, to join the fourth war. Years later, I miraculously succeeded; one morning me eyes opened to find the imprint of a bloody lance upon the back of my right hand. You could imagine my surprise then, when I was approached by a peculiar priest, one who sought my help...as a Master of Red. I recognized him immediately. His hair had gone white and his time in the desert had turned his skin tan, but it was him, the same one I saw cradling a dead Master in his arms. Is it wrong that I pitied him? Just a little?

Fate's an ironic bitch, isn't she?

I'm still searching for a way to die as a matter of habit, but now I find...I almost don't want to. No. Not here. Not yet, I think. Not until I see her again. I want to thank her, to repay my debt. I want to lay my spear at her feet and hear what she thinks of me. Good or ill, whatever her words are. That's been the driving force behind my life. If she has a wish, I'll fight for her. I'll help her grant it. Its be the least I can do. And then...I'll see what the afterlife's like for myself. Everyone's waiting for me. I'll join them soon, once I've repaid my debt. Now, then...I've talked long enough.

Time to throw my hat into the arena.

I've got some strength left in these bones.

Not as an observer this time I think, but as a Master.

Once more into the fray, one last fight, just one more time.

I've done enough Watching for a dozen lifetimes, time to start living again~!

(...0o0o0...)

The storm raged.

Peals of unholy thunder rolled through the grief-stricken clouds of the night sky like the cry of a great Beast; a righteous roar to rattle the realm and all those within. Lightning wrapped slender scraggly fingers around the throat of the world and squeezed in all its blinding brilliance, choking the life from her as a jilted lover would their traitorous spouse. Only a fool would venture out into a storm like this; some might even mistake it for the wrath of the divines themselves; an unending night, a storm without mercy.

Wind ripped through anyone or anything foolish enough to stand against it; breaking buildings and bones with screaming dispatch. Rain ravaged all resistance from Trifas in a deafening swarm of frozen water and jagged ice, relentlessly raking across rooftops and alleys alike, beating down on flesh and stone and mortar in singular yet silent judgement, a deluge seemingly without end.

Yet throughout it all the Church held fast in the face of its fury.

Shirou Kotomine scarcely noticed any of this.

He was focused on...other matters.

Gritting his teeth, he painstakingly adjusted his measurements and continued to trace the large summoning circle before him. Bathed in flickering azure radiance broken only by the occasional blaze of lightning, he worked diligently in the candlelight. What should've taken only an hour instead devoured the better part of his day and he was only now nearing completion. The storm hadn't helped matters. It had sprung up out of the blue as the sun set, raging on long into the night. Still, replete with quiet patience born from a lifetime of planning, the priest devoted himself to his duty anew. It would've been a simple matter to simply trace the runes with chalk and power it with goat's blood, but he had been denied that.

Instead he had been asked-begged really-to use the...unorthodox.

The materials were ancient and brittle, cultivated from the very ends of the earth and places seldom traveled. Volatile materials known for their potency and instability alike. He'd consented only reluctantly and after much cajoling on their part. These runes were...ancient. No, beyond ancient. He hadn't even known of them until he'd been told of them; even then he could barely trace them.

Because this wasn't his ritual.

His Servant-much to his surprise-hand answered his summons some days ago.

No, this ritual was meant to summon another a Servant that, by rights, shouldn't exist.

When his task was at least complete, Shirou knelt patiently before an empty altar to await his guest's inevitable arrival. He didn't wait long. When the door crashed open against a mighty gust, he didn't even deign to look up. He already knew who it was; who had come to the Church in the hour of the wolf, when the world was at rest-or trying to be in this storm-for this must unholy of purposes. Heavy footsteps approached him and the altar alike with a dark grace, heedless of the rain sloughing from their cloak.

And yet he merely frowned.

"You're getting mud everywhere."

Dirty brown boots stomped down ever harder upon the immaculate floor of the church in response to that soft statement, foully flinging clotted clumps of dirt in every direction with every step. A stray muscle jumped in Shirou Kotomine's jaw, but he nevertheless rose from his knees and stood in response to the new arrival's entrance. Anyone else would've been thrown out immediately; indeed, should any of the common folk of Trifas ever come trampling into Shirou's church in such a state he would've done just that; calmly but firmly flung them ass-over-elbows outside into the storm.

That he didn't do so for this one spoke of the respect he afforded him.

"Is it ready?" a rough, drawling voice inquired.

For his part the former Ruler simply regarded the new arrival with calm curiosity. He'd been expecting him for the better part of an hour now, but he supposed it was in the young man's nature to take his time. Wrapped in a dark cloak to shield themselves from the raging weather outside, the newcomer removed their cowl and shook themselves like a wet dog, violently spattering still more water into the church. His blatant lack of respect aside, Shirou found he recognized those bright blue eyes and whiskered cheeks all too well, even if the rain had temporarily soaked his spiky mane down.

Shirou exhaled in a long-suffering sigh.

"It is." he said. "And you're late again, Naruto."

"Sorry about that," came the almost boyish laugh. "We were going to meet at twelve, right?"

For a moment, the faux-Servant actually gaped. Surely he was joking. He couldn't possibly be that obtuse. No, this was Naruto after all. One could never be entirely sure wherever he was concerned. Unless he'd decided to deliberately play the fool, he'd missed the time of their meeting completely. By twelve hours.

...you do realize its midnight, don't you?"

"And?" the whiskered warrior tilted his head like a fox.

Shirou forced himself to smile. "We were supposed to meet at noon."

Naruto paused. Blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Comprehension dawned all at once.

"Bah!" he waved it away, and his embarrassment, with a flick of his fingers. "What's time mean to men like us?!"

Even a blind man could see what he was trying to do; but Shirou didn't have the heart to challenge him when he was like this.

"Honestly, you can be such a bonehead at times...

Thankfully the newcomer didn't take offense to Shirou's scathing remark; he only laughed. Three swift strides carried him forward and together, they clasped hands. A strong palm clapped Shirou on the back with savage strength and he fought down the urge to sigh before he stumbled. A small part of him wondered why he tolerated this, why he bothered to maintain this strange friendship he'd formed with the wandering warrior. Naruto was an enigma, someone who claimed to be a magus, yet clearly wasn't. Regardless of his secrets, he didn't have time for an entanglement like friendship, not when he was going to save the world. The blond's strength would play a key part in that of course, but he needn't know that...yet.

So he feigned another smile-that didn't feel fake at all-and shook his arm in return. "You fared well, I trust?"

"Ha! It feels like Fate." the young man grinned as he released him and spread his arms wide as a fresh peal of thunder shook the church. "I met her on a night just like this. Seems fitting I try my hand now."

"You never did mention who you were trying to summon...?"

"No," blue eyes twinkled merrily. "I didn't. If this works, you'll see her soon enough."

"And if it doesn't?"

Perhaps that was cruel of him. Perhaps it was petty, even, but Shirou couldn't resist the urge to poke holes in his ally's plan. From what he'd gathered, Naruto had devoted no small amount of time to summoning this one Servant; just as he had Semiramis. The difference being that he'd actually succeeded. He'd spent years collecting catalysts, the better to make certain he succeeded. But this...this was less than certain.

...it will." the fervor in those eyes frightened him. "It has to."

Unbidden, Shirou felt his gaze slip towards the altar-and the cursed crimson spear even now resting there-and a cold chill stole down his spine. Lightning flashed anew and his gaze snapped back to Naruto. In that moment of brilliant light he thought he glimpsed something, a different face in place of the blond's pleasant visage. Tan skin turned pale. Bold hair became white. A pair of hideous crimson horns jutted out of his forehead. Then the lightning faded and the glimpse was gone, leaving him to wonder if he'd just imagined it. Yes, surely he had.

Some might have chosen a different place to welcome their Servant into the world.

Naruto had chosen this church.

In theory anywhere that hosted a leyline would do; so long as there were the means and mana-or in this case, chakra-made to make manifest a Servant, all would be well. A catalyst was ideal, several if you were trying to search for a certain Servant. Which both of them were. He suspected Naruto was keen to summon her, or wanted to do it out of sight at the very least. That suited him just fine. He could summon the King of Heroes for all it mattered. His plan was foolproof. He would never lay hands on the Grail.

"I'll leave you to it, then."

Demurring on a reluctant excuse, he made to leave.

Naruto gladly stepped aside for him, then darted in abruptly to clap him on the shoulder.

For a moment-just a moment-Ruler couldn't move. Not a muscle. It felt like something had seized his very soul.

"Thanks again, Shirou." the blond's voice murmured in his ear. "For everything. I wish you good fortune in the war to come."

Then his grasp was gone and all at once, the false priest found he could move again. Something in his words rooted the tan Servant, but only for a moment. Did he know? Did he suspect? No, surely not. He would've said something by now. Done something. Did he truly not care? Banishing his doubts, the former Servant departed the same way he'd come and locked the door behind him for good measure. Naruto could leave through the back door for all he cared; in this moment, he trusted the storm more than the smiling man he'd left in the church.

Naruto watched him leave without so much as a second glance.

There was something decidedly off about that priest this evening, but he wasn't about to challenge him, much less risk his summoning on a whim. They had an...understanding of sorts. An uneasy alliance, a crude pact of nonaggression. He knew the priest wasn't as human as he claimed to be-and likely a Servant-just as said priest knew he was no longer strictly human. But today there was an underlying tension between the two of them, a shared concern of sorts. Both sought the Grail, for very different reasons.

Both were willing to die for it.

Nor had Naruto missed the way the man's eyes strayed to his spear just now as he departed. Shirou suspected something was amiss-of course he did-but he didn't know just what-who!-he intended to summon. He, on the other hand, had a very keen inkling on whom the priest was seeking. That poisoner...he wasn't looking forward to facing her in a fair fight. Well, if he managed to summon that woman despite all this sabotage...he'd done all he could. In theory they were on the same side, allies against the Black Faction. But alliances had been known to shift over less.

Only time would tell if Shirou Kotomine remained an ally or became an enemy.

Still, he'd helped him trace the circle sure enough, and so long as neither made an overt move against the other, their arrangement remained.

"Right, then." he hummed to himself. "Nothing to be gained by waiting, then."

With a grunt, he shucked the damp coat from his shoulders.

Clad in a weathered red turtleneck and a simple pair of worn blue jeans, he looked every bit a stray mage. He'd thrown a black trench-coat over the ensemble this morning on a whim and immediately regretted it if only because the damn priest got a laugh out of it. It was a touch too long and he felt...well. Ridiculous. One never would've guessed that he'd lived for thousands of years by the way he dressed these days.

As if sensing that very thought, the circle pulsed.

"Screw it." he swore. "No point in dragging this out...!"

He cut his hand almost without thought, feeding blood-and chakra-into the faintly pulsing seal beneath.

Ignited by its blood and power it responded nearly instantaneously, yet his gaze strayed back to the spear. Suddenly hesitant, he reached out and grasped it close to his chest. Gae Bolg had served him well throughout his life; without it, some of his battles would've proven...difficult. Dire, even. There had been times where he'd nearly lost even while wielding the spear. Would it remain after the summoning? He wasn't sure. Sometimes catalysts were devoured entirely; other times, they would remain. Who could say? It pained him to part with it, but if it worked as a catalyst...

Stifling his pride, he laid it upon the altar again.

Naruto didn't even have to speak; didn't have time to incite the clumsy invocation he'd prepared. No sooner had he propped his treasured lance upon the altar than the light flared and someting burned against his insides, pulling hard and viciously upon his reserves with such force that he found himself on his knees, gasping for breath. His three Command Spells blazed like fire against his hand as lightning flashed anew, as thunder rumbled once more overhead, each striking with such force that he found himself momentarily stricken blind and deaf as the candles guttered out.

He'd expected the catalyst to be consumed, that his treasured spear would be devoured.

His vision had only just recovered when it came flying back at him.

Wait one bloody minute.

Blue eyes bulged.

"HEY!"

Naruto's hand snapped up to catch the spear mere moments before another came howling for his head. He glimpsed a lean figure in another flash of lightning, there one moment, gone the nest. Most men would've frozen, hesitated at the very least. Instinct saved him. Twirling his spear he swatted the lance aside and struck back, batting it aside into the air. An anticipatory thrust met the same fate but still drew first blood, scrawling sparks illuminating his attacker mere moments before their attack skidded across Gae Bolg's length to slice across his right shoulder. He used the pain to focus himself, to harness a power he seldom used.

Blue burned gold.

'There you are, you sneaky little...!'

Ignoring the pain, he swept low and rammed the blunt end of his lance into the space he knew his attack would be. A startled grunt greeted him and told him all he needed to know; then an equally solid thud reverberated down his spear through the length of his arm, followed whoosh of air that could only mean he'd knocked the wind out of his attacker. There was no time to think, no time to ready a Command Spell. He could only trust to years of training and move accordingly.

Seizing the opportunity Naruto lunged forward and struck out, not for the lance's owner, but the lance itself.

CLANG!

This time, the lightning was a blessing; for it allowed the eye to see what his body already knew. The enemy-her face hidden behind a veil-had already straightened and sprung up a defense of her own, but she wasn't his target. She never had been. Gae Bolg struck straight and true, slipping through the brief feint the Servant offered to trap their weapon against his own. A great heave of his shoulders wrenched their spears together and a second sent both slamming to the floor, wedged against the stone. All in an instant.

A booted foot stomped down upon their interlocked weapons, trapping them underfoot.

...oh? Well done." a soft, bemused declaration answer this tactic. "Its good to know you have at least some modicum of skill with that weapon."

"Alright, that's enough!" he snapped into the darkness, snarling at her. "Who the hell are you?! Show your face! Don't make me waste a Command Spell!"

All at once, a break in the storm came and the light of the full moon broke through the clouds to illuminate their world. A stray shard of said moonlight fell through a ruined window. Naruto released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding until this very moment, but he didn't dare let go of his weapon. Still his composure abandoned him and he gaped, at a loss for words. She reached back and pulled the veil back, exposing her visage for all the world-for him!-to see in the waxing light.

In an instant he was transported back to another stormy night, to the same moment he'd received his lance.

An expressionless visage gazed back at the whiskered warrior; the rest of her was known to him immediately if only because she hadn't aged a day since they'd last seen one another. Still, Naruto gaped. Guffawed. A deep laugh born of equal parts disbelief and elation burst out of him as he realized he had actually succeeded.

"You who have summoned me. I have arrived from the Land of Shadows." her regal voice arose from the gloom. "I am Scáthach. Shall I call you Master, then?"

Sheathed in a full-body outfit highlighting her toned-yet-curvaceous body, she was the picture of quiet, lethal grace from another realm. A thin black veil lay draped over the back head with a short cloak flowing from her shoulders, connected by metallic shoulder pads. He recognized those startling red eyes, that stern visage framed by a dark curtain of bloody violet hair, yet still she seemed...different somehow. Not quite as cold as he'd remembered, and with two lances rather than one. He'd been battling her in the dark and somehow, he'd managed to trap them both.

Realizing the compromising position he'd fallen into, the blond stumbled back.

"You don't remember me, do you?" the words tumbled out before he could think to hold them back.

Scáthach's blank red eyes gazed back at him intently. He imagined he saw an ember of confusion lurking there.

Naruto bit his tongue until he tasted blood. Idiot! He hadn't meant to say that. Rather, he'd meant to say something else. Anything else. Not that. Anything but that. Those were the words of a boy, an immortal who clung to a simple earnest wish and he'd blurted them out like a fool. No, it was fine. Even if it wasn't the same Servant. He'd known this might happen. Yes, he was fine with this. Even if it wasn't the same person, he could give the spear back to her, repay his debt at the very least. He'd just wanted to see her again. He was content to see her again, or so he told himself.

"No, its fine." he babbled out quickly, erecting a facade in the face of his bitter disappointment. "Just pretend I didn't say any-

He didn't expect those peerless red eyes to soften; much less what came next.

A hand settled upon his shoulder and squeezed softly.

"...its been a long time, boy. You look well."

Despite his best efforts, the sage stiffened, his spine going ramrod straight as the words struck him in the face. Those words. How long had he waited for those words? For recognition? To reach his life's goal after so long, after so, so, so many years...! Tears swelled in his eyes and he wanted to shout. To roar. Howl out loud and scream to the very heavens. Instead he found himself blubbering like an baby. An utterly shameful display. Yet he couldn't help himself. Hastily, he dabbed at his face with a sleeve, but that only made it worse.

Composing himself, he could only sniffle.

"Hiya, boss lady."

A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaw~!

Hope you liked it! As ever, it will be gone in two days if you don't like it, so by all means let me know!

Can I just say that it feels DAMN GOOD to write Scathach at last?

She's only had a bit part in Caster and Avenger, but here? She's one of the main heroines.

Aaaaaaand our boy has a crush on her. I'm not sure whether to pity him or slap him. Probably both.

Yes, this is obviously one who died, else she couldn't have been summoned. There. She's also in her final ascension form for anyone confused by the description. Let's get that out of the way before anyone starts protesting. As to how she remembered him, well that's...le secret~! Seriously though, there's a plot point behind this that comes into full view in later chapters, so rest assured. I have a plan. This might be the most wild Great Holy Grail War I've attempted as of yet!

A Naruto that actually bets along with Shirou...

...dear god.

This Naruto is actually friends of sorts with Shirou. Scary, isn't it? He's a fight in his own right, but with him...and he's quite happy to spam Gae Bolg at will.

Felt good to write a happy Naruto again; one who hasn't lost his enthusiasm for life even through the years. Unlike the one in Faker, he's quite himself and quite capable of dying if he isn't careful. Is he in over his head? Yes and no. He'll be going up against legends old and new to be sure, but he's uniquely suited to face some. Others...not so much. He's replaced a random Master of Red-not Kairi and NEVER Kairi!-which works out quite well considering Black and their...eccentricities. Then again, I may have him summoned by those bastards some day.

Who knows?

As ever, open spots are open votes!

Vote, ya scallywags! Let the ideas flow!

Soooooooo In the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review, Would You Kindly? It Keeps A Man Alive...

And of course, here are some previews for your care and time~!

Clearly this story is more lighthearted than the others, so I hope ya enjoy~!

Once again, this will be gone in two days if you don't like it, so by all means let me know!

References are references as always!

(Previews!)

"You're right. A human has no chance. Unfortunately for you...I'm not human."

A tan arm rose ponderously...and slammed into his stomach like a roaring sledgehammer.

Blond hair turned white. Horns sprouted. An eye opened in the center of his forehead as his once tan skin turned ghostly pale, the color of ash against flesh. His mouth opened in a wordless roar, perfect teeth sharpening into dangerous fangs. All the while his body convulsed. Wide, rippling eyes bloomed through blue as his body shook. White robes wrapped around his unassuming attire, completing the ghastly look.

"Processing. Breaking limits." he recited the words on rota, cold and cruel. "Seals unlocked. Body unshackled. Chakra paths unblocked. Eyes opened. Release restraint level...

"ZERO."

"THAT'S Saber?!"

Archer of Red knelt before them. Even then, he towered over Master and Servant alike.

Scathach raised a brow. "Ah. You must be Heracles, then. Quite impressive. You're Archer, you say?"

"Indeed." came the effortless, answering rumble. "Though I served my lord as a Berserker in a previous life."

"Oi, you!" Naruto planted a palm against his frayed forehead. "For the love of...that wasn't me! That was another Naruto!"

"Assassin of Black...Gray. I'm so sorry, but I have to kill you now."

Shuten giggled and raised her dish.

"To excellent drinks, then!"

"I'll drink to that!"

"King?" Naruto sneered, baring his teeth like fangs. "Of what? King of nothing is what you are. Your people died without you. I embody mine with every breath. Your pride mean nothing to me, you preening peacock."

"MONGREL! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!"

"We're not going to attack the castle?"

A plume of smoke arose behind her in answer.

Scathach turned, and her eyes widened at the sight.

Tends. Dozens. No, more than that she realized. Hundreds of them.

"Gents!" Naruto beamed, raising his arms wide, as if to encompass the army he'd just summoned. "Take a walk."

R&R~!