"Cherie, n'dat d'planes started c'ye ge me a'nudder?" Remy asked, half sideways in his seat and waving an empty plastic cup at the stewardess. It wasn't quite a full flight, he had the space next to him to fill as well. A nice, novel change from his last airplane ride yesterday. Ten hours in the cargo hold hoping that his slap-dash translation had been right and the damn thing would stay pressurized.

"Oh, I think he's had enough," Kakashi murmured, sidling around the drink cart and pushing Remy' leg out of his way before sitting. "You can keep going. We won't need much for a while. Isn't that right, le Diable Blanc?" He smiled. "I've met demons. They're harder to catch than you."

Remy didn't talk, trying to decide, quickly, if this was 'we caught you now we drag you to jail' talk, 'we caught you now you die' talk or 'tell us what we want to know' talk.

Probably a combination of all three. Strangers who bossed around soldiers and didn't even ping on anyone's radar generally didn't fall under the classification of 'nice person', unless there was a 'not a very' in front of it.

... if he just blew a hole in the plane he'd be really dead. So would most of the passengers. And maybe the white haired bastard.

"Y'keep usin m'pet names, and I got nothin d'call y back," he said, smiling instead because it was easy, so easy to be charming. Even if it didn't work, it was better than begging. He had a reputation, after all. "Y'got one or y'onna dem number's dey like?"

"Hmm? I have a number. Zero-niner-seven-two-zero. I have a name, too," Kakashi leaned back, relaxing. "Hatake."

That was a weird ass name. Probably fake. Once he got out of this, he'd try to look it up anyway.

"Das unique, mon ami."

"Is that even English?"

"S' N'awlens patois wid some ex'ra french."

"I've been to France. Even the drunken retards there can manage their T's," Kakashi said. He pushed the little button and the seat clunked back half an inch.

"F'ck ya," he replied, watching Kakashi kick at the foot rest until it creeped down. There was the vague feeling that the conversation was heading in the wrong direction. This wasn't usually how it went. Usually there was at least one threat by now, maybe a gun in your ribs. "I can spit out m' t's iffen I need to, Hatake."

Kakashi made a slightly muted noise that for no real reason made Remy's eye twitch. It wasn't impressed, or dismissive just. Uncaring. Almost a 'meh'.

"S'fuck ya," Remy repeated. He was not sulking. He wasn't. He was plotting his escape, yes.

"Well, even monkeys can tie shoes."

"I ain' no monkey, ya'croc f'kin numba' man, " Remy'd never made a plastic dixie cup sizzle like that before, jaw tight behind the smile.

"Anyone with as dire a track record as yours has no call to insult my love life," Kakashi said. "That croc has never betrayed me."

He could, Remy thought, shove the cup into the man's lap and detonate it. Blow his dick clean off, let him bleed out through those big arteries in the thighs. "Y'gonna die fa' dat one, cher, soon's dis plane's on da 'groun',"

"You'll try to blow me up, I'm sure," Kakashi said. He patted his chest, and fished out the glittering blue shard. "You might even think you've succeded. Everyone else will. You'll wonder, though, then you'll pat the body down, and you'll take this. You'll combine it with the other pieces, I'm sure. Even though you wouldn't bet your life that this is the same piece I took from you. And then, you'll deliver it." He put the thing away carefully, and pulled out some headphones. "I missed what the in-flight movie's supposed to be, did you catch it?"

Remy stared. "Y'tink y'can tell me dat, an' den I'll wan dat damn bi'da glass?"

"Yes, I think you do. Because, you're thinking, can they really copy that? If they could, then why would your buyer need the original? He could just a get a competent thief to steal a duplicate once production started. And Production would start. Do you even know what this is? No, of course you don't."

"Be alien. Pard a' da cockpid," Remy said. What? He'd tried to figure it out since Iran.

"Keep spitting out those T's."

"Tit headed twat f'king shit eatin' son of a bitch."

Kakashi snorted. "Not bad."

"An y'gonna say no drink's fa' me? Whada bou' da pissroom, den?"

"You can go drain your lizard," Kakashi said, chuckling. "And you can even reach into the overhead and get the other pieces out of your carry on. In fact, let me do that for you," he stood up, putting a knee on the arm rest between them.

"Mabbe I checked dah in," Remy said. He could punch the man in the groin from here, dammit. it didn't look like he was wearing a cup, just black pants, and a complicated belt buckle.

A really complicated belt buckle. The sort that probably had concealed stuff in it, almost clock work. In fact, if Remy looked, he could just about work out what you'd have to push too make it...

"If you're going to stick your nose in my belt buckle, you could at least open your mouth while you're down there."

There was an audible CLICK as Remy's teeth snapped together jaw tightening. His eyes were probably glowing, it was a damn miracle that no one else on the plane was panicking yet.

More than a miracle. "Y'a mind reada?" Telepath, maybe, keeping everyone calm? He'd killed all those people, before.

"Not even a little," Kakashi said. "But I have a fabulous crotch, it's no surprise that you're enthralled."

"I mean da no one on dis damn plane's inna panic!" Remy squawked. Or he would have, if he'd been the sort to squawk.

Kakashi sat down, holding the box with the rest of the device and unwrapping it. "Toilet paper? You wrapped it in toilet paper?"

Remy didn't answer. He had a deck of cards out now and was shuffling it hand to hand. He might survive a plane crash into the sea. You never knew, might be worth it to try. "Yputting it together now?"

"Yep."

"Ain' concerned abou' whad id'll do?"

"Nope."

"Nod even if-" Remy started.

Kakashi cut him off. "From here I can shove a five inch blade between the fourth and fifth ribs, angle it up, and cut your heart more or less in half. You'll have maybe a second to feel yourself die. In that second, I assume you could detonate the chair you're in as a sort of petty attempt to take me with you but, and here's the good part, I'd all ready be at the other side of the plane. You'd get sucked out over the ocean, and might even feel your ears rupture right as you die. You certainly won't recall falling, or hitting the water."

"Y' be da worse' single servin' friend I eva..."

Kakashi grinned. "I love that movie."

"Yer jus' sidden' dere workin' ou' ways da kill me?"

"You're a thief, reputation for running from fights if you can. You're thinking of how to steal this back and get the hell out of here. What do you think I do for a living, based on what I think about then?"

"Bas'dard's a career now den?"

"I have a masters degree," Kakashi murmured. "Working on my graduate courses, only a few unit's short. Interested in being my thesis?"

The pieces clicked, glowed, pulsed slowly.

Kakashi held it out. "Wanna touch it?"

"Non..."

"Coward."

"Havin a damn bit o commen sense d'not a coward make," Remy snapped.

"It's not hurting me," Kakashi said, wriggling his fingers. "Kinda tingles."

"Y'a freak, mon ami."

"Says the mutie."

Remy paused in his shuffling, looked at the top card. Four of clubs? Well, there were worse cards. "An y'saying y' ain't?"

"Nope, I'm different," Kakashi said. "Genetically, socially, rank wise. I.Q. too, I imagine."

The four of clubs sizzled a little and Remy found himself almost growling through his teeth.

Kakashi laughed gently and put the object into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of him. "You can order your drink now, if you want. I'll flag down the stewardess. She's going to be able to really see us again, though, so you might want to stop making your card's sizzle."

"D'hell are you?"

"I'm a Jounin. It's Genin, Chunnin, Special Jounin, Jounin, Anbu, then Kage, try to keep it straight," Kakashi said. "Hatake Kakashi, Jounin, Zero-niner-seven-two-zero. Have fun Googleing that, you might find a blog."

"Y'go a blog?" Remy had to pause in his shuffling to stare.

"I write erotica when I'm bored," Katake said. "I'm bored a lot, and I can post from my phone. I may write some now if you're just going to be dull at me."

"Dull?"

"You keep repeating things back at me."

Remy's mouth opened, snapped shut again. "Jounin's d'middle?"

"It's a little bit, exponential. Power of, say, five as you move along but yes, Jounin's the middle. Special Jounin's almost tied, really it just means there's a specialty involved."

"Y'tellin me an awful lot."

"Ahh, so you have a brain and you can use it," Kakashi gave Remy's knee a pat in a way that oozed smarm. "I'm not going to kill you."

"But y'seem t'think y'can."

"Oh, I'm good enough to kill you. That's not hard. I'm good enough not too, though and I bet you haven't met as many people that good."

"Met enough."

"Ah, yes well. I've never been a professional guina pig, but torture I'm familiar with. I suppose the difference is that when you're being tortured for information, they still think you're sentient being."

"Givin' or receivin?"

"And. Not 'or'. And," Kakashi was pulling out a phone now, one with a keyboard. Clickclick, fast, text starting to fill up the screen.

Remy stared at Kakashi for almost a full two minutes before raising an arm. "Cherie? Member dat drink y'offered back a while ago? Gonna need a few mo o'does."

The stewardess was more than happy to oblige, even if her face showed that she was puzzled that she had failed to notice the very odd looking gentlemen on her plane.

"Bring two." kakashi said without looking up.

Click. Click. Click.

Remy nursed down the first sip, then downed it and got a second. Then a third. It was halfway through the fourth that he leaned over and looked at the tiny glowing screen. It wasn't as it Kakashi was trying to hide it.

Remy read it and stared. Read it again. There was more when he got to the bottom. It wasn't just porn. He'd expected porn. Hell, five drinks he'd HOPED for porn. But he hadn't been ready to find not only porn, but porn with a thinly disguised him in it.

"Dark eyed boy?!?!" he squawked, rising from the seat. Almost levitating, really, what was left of his drink hitting some businessmen in the back of their heads.

"Hmm?" Kakashi looked over, fingers still moving.

Click. Click. Click. People were staring.

But Remy couldn't stop now. "An fuck you! My dick be more den a han'ful!!!" he heard himself yelling, almost as If from a distance. "-n you ain' packing no pyt'on!!!"

Kakashi's fingers finally slowed. "Maybe not a Burmese," he said after a moment. "but I do have a nice cock, and with pants as tight as yours are unless you're tucking and taping, I think I'm right. Going to prove me wrong?"

"Sir! Please sit down!" A stewardess was hissing as politely as possible, reaching over Kakashi's head to tap Remy on the arm. Remy stared at her then at Kakashi.

Kakashi was typing again. If Remy leaned down and read, he got an eyeful of 'Thief' bent over a tiny airline sink, legs spread while Scarecrow fucked him. He was not, and this was important, the sort of man who mewled like a bitch.

"Sir," she was repeating as the business men started to rise, looking disgruntled.

Remy didn't give a shit about them. The air marshal, on the other hand. Oh, sure he was undercover but Remy has picked out that haircut and that tell-tale buldge.

"Jus' startled," he said, smiling his best damn smile, laying it on thick as jam. "Sorry 'bout dat. y'send me d'cleaning bill, you got da? Wen we be landin' okay?" Real damn thick. Everyone seemed to settle down. Remy was hoping that he'd get another drink but he was doubting the odds of that. And Kakashi kept typing.

Remy didn't even know what the hell to make of that. He tried to ignore it, but it was hard. Impossible, really. Words like thrust and moan and grind kept popping up as if highlighted. Remy shut his eyes. "Y'a bastard."

"No, Hatake is the family name on my father's side. He did marry my mother."

"Well den y'ascend da usual definitions of bastard, ya croc fucker."

"Thank you."

"Don' soun' so damn. Happy aboud it!!!" Remy spat.

Kakashi held out his still full glass. "Have a drink. Calm down. Relax. It's not like anyone but you knows that I'm writing about you. Everyone else will just think it's another one of my erotic fantasy tales."

Remy took the drink. There didn't seem to be too much else he could do. Well, he did take the gem back too, quietly.

He held it in his hands a moment, pocketed it, then moved it discreetly to a different pocket. Then tried to work out what the hell the man next to him was playing at.

Remy'd been around a while, dammit. He'd been good at reading people since he'd learned to tie his own shoes and qualify as people himself and even then he'd bet money he'd been a cute baby.

And Kakashi gave him a head ache. He'd met sadists, god-complex scientists, anti mutant fundies, pro-mutant fundies, dark gods, idealists, just-following-orders-soilders, old warhorses, wheelers, dealers, rednecks, thieves, queers, dykes, masochists, fruits, loops, jackasses, tight asses, assholes and methodists.

Remy couldn't quite, label Kakashi in a way that made him easier to deal with. Fucking infuriating was looking good, but it didn't give him anyway to deal with the man. "I don 'make da' noise," he snapped. "Ya use d'word mewl fo' times now, y'hack."

Kakashi paused scrolled up. "Twice. I've used it twice."

"Don' use id ad all!" Remy hissed.

"You don't mind the fact I'm writing about you taking it so much as the fact you're not, ahem, taking it like a man?" Kakashi's smile wasn't even visible, but Remy KNEW it was there and he wanted to punch it till it went away. "What noise do you usually make, then?"

"I d'ge bend over, so I d'make any sorda noise," Remy said, crossing his arms. Staring raw hate at the seat in front of him. "D'femme's, dey mewl f'me. Non o dis', wha y'got."

"That's disappointing. I had you pegged as more flexible than that," Kakashi said with a mournful tone that had better be put on. "I suppose this'll just stay a fantasy, then. Shame. According to your file you're double jointed, and that's always fun in close quarters."

Click. Click.

Remy stared at the man. "What," he started, then stopped, then felt his skin crawl a little, then that stopped too, because, really-

"Maybe I'm being too subtle. Would you like to have sex?"

Kakashi was bored now.

Remy'd spent the rest of the flight staring out the window like he was measuring the distance to the ground, and Kakashi had let him dart off in the confusion of landing.

They'd landed sooner rather than later after Remy'd gotten up to use the restroom, and Kakashi was quite certain the man had tossed something small and charged into the vents to cause that smoke.

Kakashi didn't mind that. That was interesting. THIS, this now, this was dull. Remy'd spent almost two full weeks weaving, back tracking, laying false trails, checking and rechecking his clothes for tracking devices. Hell, the item itself, blue and shimmering, was currently tied to a cell phone jammer in a leather suitcase lined with lead.

Clever. And cute.

But ultimately....

"He's on the move, boss," Pakkun voice crackled a little.

Kakashi smiled. He loved radios. They made them so small now, you could fit one on a dog collar. They even made ones that broadcasted in a frequency too high for humans to hear. Oh, Pakkun spoke in English, but he was there, he knew when to shut up and go 'woof woof', but Kakashi could relay orders OUT constantly.

There was a low wuffle in the back round. "And numb nuts here needs to take a leak."

"Tell him to mark a tree."

"C'mon, boss he's too well trained for that. He wants to go to the park over there."

"Fine, but if he shits he needs to leave it on the grass. It drew a crowd when he got that newspaper and curbed it last time."

"On it, boss. He's got a throw away phone now."

"Excellent. He's reaching out," Kakashi finished his coffee and folded up the paper, left it on the bench. "Get me that phone if he tosses it."

"Yes'sir."

"And Pakkun?"

"Yes'sir?"

"Stop with the Uncle Tom impersonation."

"You're just pissed the bitch isn't being receptive."

Kakashi pursed his lips and let out a shrill whistle that made both Pakkun and the tall, rangy wolfhound next to him flinch.

Then he started walking, lazily. The sun felt good on his bare face.

Well. Technically, 'her' bare face. Funny how some mental blocks worked. The thought of being maskless and himself in public would have caused a sort of mental breakdown, at the very least his pants would be missing a leg, or his shirt would be six inches shorter.

But as 'Kakasho' (which, incidentally, was a stupid name and he needed to make up a new one, damn Naruto) he didn't care as much. Maybe it was the lipstick, maybe it was the fact he knew his jaw was different, but Sexy no Jutsu was it's own mask. Even if it sorta wasn't. The hair was a give away no matter what shape he took, and some deep stripe of pride that ran contrary to his mask issues wouldn't let him alter it.

Well, not the color. The length? It currently went all the way to 'her' ass in a ponytail. Kakahsi was pretty sure he could choke someone to death with it. Which was really, kinda nifty.

'She' shifted to jogging, a slow pace because tits were incredibly painful things when you shook them, which meant everything he'd seen on cable had been a fucking lie. Kakashi supposed buying a bra'd fix the whole thing but that seemed. Excessive. If faster was needed, it'd be simpler to go back to male. Maybe it wasn't the most, subtle appearance Kakashi could choose but sunglasses hid his eyes, and shocking white hair was a fashion choice on girls whereas it just made people confused about his age as a male.

Naruto had told him it was very Warhol like, and Kakashi had take a few days to decide if being compared to a painter of soup cans was a compliment or not. Naruto had said it sincerely enough but Naruto had gotten an extra decade to learn deceit.

"Bossman?" Pakkun said. The cheeky dog had tried 'headbitch' the other day and gotten a little rundown on this process known as neutering. Male pronouns had returned in force.

"Don't worry, Pakkun. I have him now."

Beside, with the mask down, he could let his nose work properly and while it was a bit overwhelming in a city like this? The thief was a distinct ribbon in the air, bourbon and leather, sizzling ozone. It was a learned scent, after that time on the plane.

Kakashi smiled. Life was good, there were agents on standby if things when all pancake shaped, and it was a beautiful day.

*********One week later********

Naruto stared at the middle distance over the hospital bed. "And what, sensei," he said, finally, "the fuck happened?"