Disclaimer: If Katekyo Hitman Reborn were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.

Background music: --

Minimal fluff 09!

--

Stop! In the name of Kabuki! 3

Some of the actors at the troop were at the theater so much of the day that they practically lived there and had their mail delivered at the Hana Theater. During one of the breaks, a mailman would come and drop off all the letters and fliers for the veterans while the rest would enjoy a well deserved breather. Tsuna had gone off to find the bathroom when Basil was tapped by the mailman.

"Excuse me, are you Bella-chan?"

"Ah, yes." Basil looked up at the mailman and his smile fell a bit. There was a large gash across the young man's face and a mass of blonde hair was sticking out from the gray cap resting on his head. The regular mailman was an old fogey who had arthritis and walked slowly around distributing the mail. The face finally registered and Basil cocked his head. "You were with Mukuro, weren't you?"

The man cackled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a newbie so you shouldn't have seen me before. Anyway, here's something for you." Flipping over a small paper card on his fingers, which had the slightest of claws, the mailman grinned. "It seems like a rendezvous so I suggest you keep it." Basil gingerly took the card from the boy's hand, as if it were an explosive. Reading it briefly, it was a time and a place and the absence of date suggested that the day was today. Looking up to inquire more from the messenger, Basil was surprised to see that the mailman had vanished. Asking around, it seemed that no one had seen the boy go.

Glancing at the card again, Basil noted that the time was only an hour away and he was sure Takayama wasn't going to be too keen with him leaving. He was still pondering this when Chiharu appeared behind him soundlessly, jolting him with her first words.

"Ooh…it's a date isn't it, Bella-chan? With that mysterious tall, dark stranger?"

"I don't know. There no name." Basil flitted the card around aimlessly.

"Normally I would tell you not to meet nameless strangers, but I suppose these are special circumstances." Chiharu put her hand on Basil's shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I have a hard time believing that someone like Mukuro would approach a newbie like you like that. Not to mention he has a strange lot following him around. I would check him out. He might be spies from Volgadro." Clapping his shoulder, Chiharu grinned as she stepped away. "I mentioned something like this to the baby. He's so cute." Smiling wider, Basil was to take that Reborn had told them to be wary. "So I'll cover for you and you investigate this date, eh?"

Basil stared at Chiharu before nodding slowly. Chiharu grinned and gave him a little shove in the direction of the door and turned on Takayama, suddenly bawling. "Takayama-san! Something has come up! You know that bug going around? The one traveling on fleas? Well, I think I just saw…something…black and tiny!"

The crew, fearing for their careers over a petty illness, started an uproar. Basil had expected Chiharu to do something drastic, but nothing to this extent. The troupe's members were so worried about catching a disease before opening night that they kept sanitizing lotion on their person at all times. Now with the mess of clothes and limbs, Basil snuck out, sneaking past the receptionist on the phone.

--

Tsuna had come back from the bathroom to a room full of panic and chaos. Surely the whole crew couldn't have gotten into a ruckus just because he was attending to nature? Panicked that perhaps he was the cause, he started to open his mouth to apologize to Takayama, who was storming toward him with a dark expression. However, Takayama breezed past him as, "I'm sor…" ghosted from his mouth.

Beside himself with fear that the director was now giving him the silent treatment, not to mention walking away from practice in a huff, Tsuna followed behind soundlessly, his cloth slippers keeping his presence hidden on the wooden floors. Takayama seemed really pissed and Tsuna wondered if he should even open his mouth.

Takayama seemed unaware that anyone had followed him because he was storming to his office. Shutting himself behind a black marked door, forbidden for anyone at Tsuna's level, Takayama reached for the phone, which was flashing with a message light. Tsuna stood outside, his fist raised over the wooden door, ready to knock.

"Need to get an exterminator…" Tsuna heard Takayama's muffled voice. At once, Tsuna looked down at his feet, as if a roach was heading for him at that very second. That brief moment of pause before knocking allowed the young Vongola to hear the first snippets of the conversation of Takayama to someone on the phone.

"Hello…? Volgadro capo, please."

Tsuna knew his hearing was good enough to hear through the wooden door and his hand froze, a mere two centimeters away from the door. The wood was too thick to hear every word of the conversation but maybe he could salvage some parts…? Reaching into his kimono to fish out the tape recorder that Reborn had given him for such moments, Tsuna panicked as more words got away.

"Yes…going as plan…Takeyama…preparations going underway…" Tsuna finally felt the sleek recorder through the folds of his kimono and was able to hit record just as the words, "meeting with Jones, Asakura…" drifted through the door and blurred out into incomprehensive mumbles.

For the gods of the mafia, he was actually doing his job…!

Tsuna was just fidgeting with the buttons when he heard the phone receiver slam and a harsh cry come from the stage area. Three guesses would mean that something had happened and Takayama was going to come out at any minute and…

At the last minute, Tsuna dove for a hallway that was only a few steps away, but having the panic and adrenaline rushing through his head, he performed a ninja-like jump and slid down said hallway, cushioned only by the vast amounts of kimono he was dressed in. He only made a soft thumping noise, which was drowned out by Takayama's loud opening of the door. There was silence, in which Takayama broke it by mumbling, "Could have sworn I heard something…" before walking away.

Tsuna waited for a few more seconds before letting out the breath he had been holding. Never had the mafia really been that exciting and espionage-like. It was nothing like the movies. At least, the main character wouldn't look like a girl while doing so. Checking to see that the tape recorder had not broken, Tsuna tucked it back into the folds of his kimono, letting out another breath.

"Tsunami!! Get your kimonoed ass out here!"

Blanching, Tsuna was pretty sure that even though he hadn't been caught right then and there, he was ready to face another tongue lashing, at which not even Chiharu would be able to help him now.

--

"Ooh!! Kyoko-chan can you believe it?! It's our first day in the theater case!! Exciting to the extreme!"

"Nii-chan, what is our first course of action?" Kyoko sat at the ready with a notepad on her hand, sitting straight and looking expectantly at her brother. The door to the office had been closed, as it was a superiors meeting but Yamamoto was pretty sure the underlings were listening at the cracks. The air was buzzing with excitement and although he was a bit more mellow about it, the raven-haired cop couldn't help but feel anxious as well. He hid it well as he shifted on the couch.

"Hmm…first of all…" Ryohei stroked his chin. "Well, our scouting at the theater didn't seem to raise any threats…everything was peaceful…"

"May I interrupt?" Yamamoto raised a hand slightly before putting it down as Ryohei and Kyoko glanced at him. "I did some undercover snooping around and…"

"Yamamoto! Excellent!"

"Nii-chan's right, Yamamoto-kun. We should have gone with you."

"Anyway, I managed to infiltrate one of the backrooms." Maybe infiltrate wasn't the perfect word; more like accidentally barging in, but he sounded a lot cooler if he said infiltrate. "There was…a suspicious person lurking about."

"Ah! Sketchy to the extreme!"

"Perfect!" Yamamoto was not sure why the two found it absolutely necessary to add exclamation marks to every sentence, but it was building the anticipation. "Alright, Yamamoto-kun, I'll take notes. Describe this sketchy person!"

"Well…" Yamamoto was sure that if he gave a detailed description, including the fire that burned savagely in those bright eyes, he was pretty certain that the silver haired person in question would be tailed by more people than himself. There was something dangerous about the punk that had been so eager to get rid of him that he couldn't help but feel a need to research it alone. "It was a bit too dark to really tell…" And anyway, should it get serious, it really wouldn't matter if he told them now or later. "But he was definitely trying to hide something. I told him I was the police and flashed my badge and he almost blew up in front of me."

"You mean…he had bombs?"

"Um, no. Not literally." Kyoko nodded as she scribbled her notes across the legal pad. Although with that temper, Yamamoto wouldn't be surprised… "I think I'll be in charge of investigating that person though. I'll know him when I see him."

"Great! Perfect!" Ryohei pumped his fist up. "We've done a good start! What time is it now, Kyoko-chan?"

"Ah!" Kyoko glanced away at her watch. "It's eleven-fifteen, nii-san."

"Perfect! Time for lunch!"

Yamamoto followed the two out of the office (almost running over the mob of cops who were trying to flee from the door), but his thoughts weren't with them. This was a waste of time. No wonder this district got so many bad reviews. If they really wanted some results, they would have to work for them. "Um, guys? I think I'll go get lunch on my own."

"You sure? Kyoko's making her home-style rice balls. They're delicious to the extreme."

"I'll pass." Yamamoto considered. "No, save some for me. I'll be back before you know it." As long as he was back before five, he was pretty sure nothing was being accomplished anyway. Grabbing his jacket, Yamamoto left the station and headed for the theater.

--

Basil was in a great rush, as he didn't know how long Chiharu could stall for time. Surely she didn't have a box of fleas in her back pocket for times like this…? Well, at least he hoped that shape in her pocket wasn't anything dangerous…sidestepping a young police officer, Basil made his way to the café where the rendezvous was sited to happen.

As he slowed to a walk when he spotted the tables and chairs on the sidewalk, Basil was suddenly aware by the reflection of the store windows that he was still wearing a kimono and looked rather old-fashioned in the open. Oh, why didn't he change before he went out? Chiharu forbade the both of them to wear a change of clothing underneath their stage costumes in practice, as she didn't find them necessary and only permit them to wear clothing ready for battle only afterwards. He hadn't had enough time to slip into more comfortable clothing and besides, at this rate, it was too late.

Basil was pretty sure Mukuro had spotted him long before he saw the mysterious young man, for when he finally saw the gang at the table, Mukuro had been watching him with a cryptic smile. Collecting his wits, Basil walked into the café area and maneuvered himself past the various patrons, who were giving him rather strange looks. Finally coming to a stop in front of the table, Basil turned to Ken, who was grinning at him.

"So it was you."

Ken chuckled, resting his chin on his palm. "I never said it wasn't, Bella-chan."

"You came," Mukuro said, almost purred. Standing, he reached for Basil's hand but the onnagata pulled away. Accepting the rejection with grace, Mukuro smiled. "I would like to talk with you at a more private table. Care to join me?"

"I don't see how I have a say in this," Basil said shortly and followed Mukuro over to a table where they would not be overheard. At the instant where the two were out of earshot, Ken barked out a rather canine laughter, which earned the table horrified glances.

"Ken, please control yourself," Nagi begged. "You're causing a scene."

"Oh please! As if Mukuro-sama's not causing a scene of his own, dragging out that boy here!" Ken was shaking with suppressed laughter. "If he wasn't scheming something awful, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

"Mukuro-sama knows what he's doing," Chikusa said, stirring sugar into his black coffee.

"Bella-san's rather pretty, isn't he?" Nagi mused aloud, turning at the table where her brother and Basil were sitting. "I wonder what his real name is?"

"Does it matter?" Chikusa stopped more sugar from flowing into his cup. "I don't know why Mukuro-sama picked that one to stalk. The other one, that mousy one, was new too and we could have used him to get in too."

"Well, if Mukuro wants to do something, he wants to have fun doing so." Ken grinned as he picked up a scone and bit violently into it. "And besides, did you see that creepy guy coming on to him anyway? I don't think Mukuro would have had a chance."

"Shh," Nagi reprehended. "You can't go spilling our plan out in the open."

"Relax, you stupid idiot, we haven't said anything to incriminate us."

"That itself is enough to make people suspicious." Nagi bit gingerly into the strawberry from her parfait. "Let's try and act normal, can't we?"

Ken grinned, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. "If only we were, eh, Nagi?"

Basil glanced at the table Mukuro had left behind. He was been pretty sure it was Ken who had been masquerading as the mail carrier. He hadn't seen Chikusa or Nagi around, but just one member of the gang in the theater during practice hours was enough to alert Chiharu. Could Mukuro really be a Volgadro member? If so, he had to be careful where he tred.

"Bella-chan?" Basil turned and Mukuro took the opportunity of Basil's lowered guard to reach over and grasp both his hands. "Aren't you curious to know why I called you out here?"

It was extremely awkward to be holding another male's hands, especially in public, even if one of them looked more of a girl. "I hope you remember," Basil said as he tried to squirm his hands from Mukuro's grip, "that I'm an onnagata, so I'm not a girl in any way."

"I didn't forget." On the contrary, Mukuro's hold on his hands seemed to tighten and Basil gave up. It was luck though, that he had foreseen something as constricting as this and had started the recording from the pockets of his kimono. He didn't think he would actually have to use that contraption but it was a lot better than trying to remember things off the top of your head, along with the fact that the human mind is faulty. Basil was sensing the vibes Mukuro was giving him and he cleared his throat.

"Why did you have Ken come to the theater?"

"Oh, Ken? He got a job," Mukuro said rather offhandedly. Too offhandedly, in fact. Basil made a mental note to check in on the previous mailman. "We're staying here for some time so we decided to go make some money while we were at it. It's a small world, I guess."

"So why did you want to meet me here today?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Mukuro leaned in, pulling Basil closer. "You have a pretty good idea on the theater, right? The way you float around in it so nicely…"

Oh cut the crap. Basil smiled charmingly. If Mukuro wanted to play this game, he'd play too. "Yes?" He'd charm this prat into telling him what exactly he was planning.

"So you would know how to get around it and such, hmm?"

"I guess so…" They were looking like quite the loving couple, but Mukuro had a mission and Basil had been on the stage. Both not willing to be outdone, they were cutting quite the scene.

"Would you be able to provide me with some blueprints of the place?"

Basil (and he really regretted having to resort to this, as even Reborn said he sounded rather girly when he did so) giggled, and forcefully pulled his hands from Mukuro's grasp and folded them under his chin. "And why would you need those, Mukuro-kun?"

Mukuro smirked, leaning back. Maybe the other boy's name was Tsunami, but this boy was also turning out to be one heck of a storm himself. "I…no, we have plans for that place. Big plans, you could say."

Was it wise to be spilling out so much to a mere actor, Basil wondered? It didn't matter, as long as he got the job done. "Such as?"

"Well…don't tell anyone I said so, but…" Mukuro leaned forward. "My crew and I are renovators and we're in town just to upgrade the theater before the big production in a few weeks. You know, that one…The Alliance or whatever. Thing is, the director's refusing…something about privacy, you know."

That would be a wise thing to do…if you were a mafia boss in disguise.

"Anyway, we couldn't get the blueprints from them but they expect us to draw up a plot for them? It's not happening." Mukuro leaned back with a smile. "So could we commission you to get the charts for us? I'll make it worth your time."

If he hadn't been raised in a world full of people who used you, Basil would have almost been insulted. Remembering to stay in character, he painted a hurt look on his face. "So all this time you weren't interested in me, but the theater?" It worked wonders, as Mukuro suddenly scooted forward.

"Oh, no, Bella-chan, that's not the whole story! Sure, I wanted those blueprints, but I could have asked anyone, couldn't I? No, I approached you because I thought you would be the perfect one for the job…"

"So you're using me anyway." Basil felt his voice suddenly creeping into a more masculine tone and coughed to cover it up as Mukuro raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if I should trust you."

"Well…I guess I can't convince you otherwise…" Mukuro looked at him. "But after all, you're only a temporary face there anyway, so why would you possibly feel any affiliation to that theater anyway?"

As Mukuro talked on, Basil weighed the odds. If he gave Mukuro the plans, then the alliance could possibly be furthered and he would have helped him. If he didn't, he could be losing an important lead. Well, he figured, he didn't have the plans with him anyway so he could probably say anything and discuss it with Reborn later. "I guess so," Basil said slowly, intertwining his fingers together thoughtfully.

"That's the spirit, Bella-chan." Mukuro grinned before a more serious face appeared. "But honestly, Bella-chan, I really…"

"You don't have to say it." Basil stood up, ready to leave. "This was more of a business meeting so there's no need for any romanticism. I'll see what I can do about what you want, but I'm not making any guarantees." He turned and was ready to bid the place effing adieu when Mukuro called him back. "Hold on, Bella-chan. You keep reminding me, so I'd like to know…what's your real name? Besides Bella."

Basil turned slightly. "You know, so I can call you that when we don't want the attention."

There was no issue of saying his real name; after all, he was still an underling in the Vongola family and the only big names that really stood out in the mafia world was Tsuna's and the Guardian's. Actually, he wasn't even thinking about this, as giving his name was almost as natural as breathing. "My name's Basil."

"Basil…" Mukuro said aloud, as if seeing how it felt on the mouth. "I like it…see you later."

--

He had given restraining orders on stalkers before, but he had never actually been one.

Yamamoto wondered how sneaky he looked with big sunglasses and hiding behind his collar on a side street next to the theater. Would it do to march in there and demand to see the silver haired suspect? Surely he would draw attention to himself and if the theater really was crawling with mafia members like the report said, it would be foolish to bring the whole case down. And anyway, he didn't even know the guy's name. Noting that he probably should find it out first hand, he watched the backdoor. Mafia members wouldn't just come and go as they pleased through the front door. It was only obvious. He had watched the movies.

Otherwise, it had been a slow morning with no one entering or exiting the back except the janitor, and he looked rather lethargic to begin with. He doubted the senile old man even recognized him anyway.

He was about to fall asleep behind the shades when the door opened once more and he peeked over the rim. Ah, his suspect was here.

Gokudera sighed as he let the door close behind him softly. Takayama had bullied the Tenth yet again and he couldn't do a thing about it…honestly, when the mission was over, he would be glad to blow this place to smithereens. He didn't know why he didn't do so in the first place. He really needed a cigarette. Fishing one out of the pack he kept in his back pocket, he reached for a lighter. Holding the flame, flickering gently in the sunlight, he brought it up to his face and noticed he was being watched.

Oh dammit, couldn't he smoke without the police breathing down his back? Lighting the one in his mouth, Gokudera took a draw before blowing a perfect smoke ring. How was that for classy? Stuffing the lighter back in one of his various pockets, he kept an eye on the nosy, snoopy cop that had cornered him before. They never rested, did they?

Oh so, the silver haired suspect smoked. Nothing this, Yamamoto wondered if it would be smart to call out that smoking did horrible things to the health. Not that he really cared; if the mafia went down one by one due to lung cancer, it would be a clean win. He himself had never dabbled with the stuff but the way the punk drew him in…was the mafia life as intriguing as it seemed to be? Back alley deals and fast hits…Yamamoto shook his head from the clouds just in time to see said suspect throw the cigarette to the ground and ground it out, almost like a threat. With another steely glare, the suspect disappeared behind the door again.

Yamamoto shrugged before starting back to the station. Rome wasn't built in a day.

To be continued…

--

Note: Arg! I'm filling up my plate with too much! First, this fanfic. Then my new Hetalia multishot. Then exams coming up. So…although I will try not to, I may put this on hiatus as the Hetalia idea is more fresh in my mind and I had to restrain myself from writing that instead of this latest chapter at 10:30 at night. Anyway, back to the story: my 6984 parts are turning out to be a hint like Claddagh…but maybe you like it that way? Yamamoto is such a punk. Tsuna is such a ninja fail. I am really in need of reviews. If I get a decent number, then I may or may not put this on hiatus. Reader reactions, guys! Also, I noticed NO ONE bothered to review my other new 6984 fic. I'm not feeling the love. And my writing his fueled on love.