This is just a short little story that came about from one of my dreams and my over use of the words "Bite me", and most likely inspired by my large intake of coffee.

Have you ever heard of a catchphrase? You know, a little something you use almost unconsciously in any and all sorts of situations.

For some people it comes out as a speech thing. I met this one guy form Iwa, he is a little girly looking, but not too bad…and he can blow shi…uh…stuff up with clay he shapes in his hands. I do not think I would mind looking a bit masculine if I could use clay to blow things up. I forget what I was doing at the time when I met him; I think it might have been at the Iwagakure Art Festival a few years ago. I like to use thread in my art and jutsu, it is amazing what you can do by knotting a piece of thread; we fought a bit about what the definition of art is whenever it was that we met. But, I am off topic, back to catchphrases. This guy is a ninja, not that that fact has anything to do with speech but I wanted to through it in. Whenever my fellow blond speaks, he throws in a "un" or a "yeah" at the end of a sentence, most of the time he does not even notice he is doing it. In this way the ninja, I think his name was Deidara, sets himself apart from others…well that and his most awesome ability to blow things up, have I mentioned how cool that is.

Along my travels I met another ninja who had a catchphrase that stood out in my mind, though his whole demeanor may have been highlighted by those he was traveling with; I saw the three walking into a cave, the teen with the catchphrase, the four-eyed silver dude, and the really creepy woman/man, uh, person with golden snake eyes. Being the super-cool ninja that I am, I followed the trio for a bit…not stalking, but to find another user of the wonderful catchphrase. Anytime one of the ninja's companions would pose a question to the oh-so stoic one, he would respond with "hn" and just that, much to their annoyance. I do not think I would ever be able to put up that, I like to talk too much. Unfortunately, by the time I decided this, I was lost in the cave. Normally I have a really good sense of direction, and I can read a map expertly…but I did not have a map…and I was paying too much attention to the catchphrase user to pay attention to the tunnels in the cave. It took me three days to get out of the cave system, and in all that time I did not see the three again.

It was another ninja, another blond, who stood out the most in my mind. He was a Konoha ninja, a very energetic and kick-butt Konoha ninja. He had an air about him, I could tell he would go far…where he would go, I have no idea…just that he would go far. This teen, I think I heard the older man he was traveling with call him Nar…um..oh yeah, Naruto, anyways names do not matter much, had the habit of yelling out at the top of his lungs, the phrase "believe it!", to emphasize any point. While traveling along the same road as this blond and the old, perverted man…he, the old man, kept sending out shadow clones into the trees overlooking the road to look down my shirt, quick use of my senbon needles kept him from getting a good look…I think I lost count of the "believe it" s around 20 times it rang out. Ok, that might have been an exaggeration, but the Naruto kid did use the phrase a lot.

Enough about other ninjas and their catchphrases, this story is about me…me and my catchphrase. Unlike the other ninja, my use of my personal catchphrase is not used as common in my speech patterns or as unconsciously as the others. I tend to pull out my trusty phrase whenever I am stressed, be it in an argument or when I try and one-up someone, usually to avoid beating the stuffing out of who ever I am arguing with. I realize I should use my amazing wit to get out of those types of situations, but it takes me some time to come up with the really cool comebacks that will floor my opponents. By that time, the argument could have already grown past the yelling phase, so I pull out my phrase, dust what little amount of dust that may have accumulated on it off, and use it…and it works for the most part.

I never meant for the man, and I use that phrase loosely, as it described him about as well as a sixe XXXL shirt fits an anorexic ten year old female, to take my catchphrase literally. Who knew that telling a stranger to "bite me" would come back to bite me in the butt, well not the butt, but you get the picture…or you will.

Pounded by those who walked before me, the road was smooth and free of erosion or other pits and ruts. Sunlight filtered through the bright, new green leaves of the trees on either side of the road, causing the ever changing kaleidoscope of light flickering on the road. The wind stirred the petals and scents from the fruit bearing trees, the spring blossoms showing off in shades of pink, yellow and white. Mating calls from the various species of birds called out throughout the woods.

All in all, it was a very peaceful day with no other person around to ruin it. The last group of people I passed was a few hours ago, they were very loud, the older perverted one kept yelling at the younger one, while sending his clones to look down my shirt. The younger blond kept yelling at the top of his lungs about how he was going to be Hokage, and how the older one should train him. I lost the two when they stopped in a small village half a mile off the road to get lunch. I kept walking because the nice inn woman from the inn I stayed at the night before made a bento box for me this morning.

Two and a half hours later I spotted a nice clearing near a huge lake, a nice scenic place to enjoy my lunch. As soon as I stepped into the clearing, the atmosphere near the lake became a little cooler that the spring day on the road; a semi-dense fog rolled off the lake filling the space between the trees surrounding the clearing. The rumbling of my hungry stomach, begging for the yummy spider crab sushi and crisp vegetables in my bento box decided it for me.

I threw my nifty sparkly-blue bag to the ground…I know for a ninja, sparkly-blue is not the best color, but it also means that no one would want to steal my bag, the color is a defense mechanism. I like to fiddle around with fuinjutsu, by combining a couple of storage seals with an anti-gravity seal and a simple blood seal, another defense, I was able to turn my bag into a mini black hole, able to hold anything I want to place in it and keep the bag under five pounds.

And, besides, I like sparkly-blue, it matches my ninja outfit, I have a thing called OCD, over compulsive disorder, where I have to have everything matching. My normal outfit consists of black nin shoes, back pants with a short, bright blue skirt over the pants, that I can still comfortably move around in. I normally wear a blue fish-net shirt under a black tank top, alternate coloring to my bottom half that looks nice. I keep my hair in a tight braid to keep the long strands out of my face.

Out of my spiffy bag of coolness, I grabbed the green picnic blanket the sets off my outfit just right. Once the blanket was on the ground, without a wrinkle in sight… OCD kicking in again…I took out my bento and placed it just-so on the blanket so that when I take my seat I will be facing the lake, watching the sunlight ripple off the cresting waves.

For a ninja, it took me awhile…half way through my lunch, to notice the man standing on the waves watching me eat. The wind tossed his shaggy, brown, dark green highlighted hair, around his face. Thank goodness he was clothed, from what I could see of his well muscled chest through the opening of his robe, would lend the imagination of thinking up of a great body. I might have gone into fits if I saw the rest. It was his face though that caught my eyes, or rather his eyes. The man's piercing green eyes were locked onto my face.

A look of annoyance crossed his face as he tried to talk to me again. I missed the first time(s) he tried…I hate to use this line but I was lost in his intriguing eyes, I could not interpret what I saw there, but whatever it was…different.

The rich, deep tones of his voice finally broke through, "What are you doing here? This is MY territory!" I marveled at the sound of his voice before my brain caught up and deciphered his words so that I could understand.

Trying to be nice, I quickly responded, "I was just passing through when I saw this clearing just as I was getting hungry, so I decided to stop for lunch and enjoy the scenic view."

A bit of anger, a scary bit of anger, flashed from his eyes, making them seemingly glow, "This is MY TERRITORY!!! You get OUT!"

Apparently this hot man, both in looks and temper, had a problem with people in "his" area. His rudeness, I hate it when people yell at me, started to get on my nerves. I am not the nicest person at the best of times, when I am getting yelled at, like now, any semblance of nice flies out the window.

"Look… I am just resting here for a bit so I can eat my lunch and enjoy the scenery. As soon as I am done, I will be on my way. If you had not have interrupted me I would have already finished my lunch and on my way."

He growled at me, an actual animalistic growl…not the type that I use sometimes, but really animalistic. "No! Go now! Or I will kill you!"

As I am not the type of person who takes personal death threats lightly, I stood up and got ready to defend myself. My next statement sealed my fate.

"I will stay here and finish my meal. You can just BITE ME!" I try and use my little catch phrase at least once a day whenever I can fit it in…most of the times before I throw a punch or two.

Instead of the desired effect of my catchphrase on the man, as soon as he heard those two little words, a look that I definitely could not interpret flashed in eyes. Without a verbal response, he suddenly disappeared, only to reappear right in front of me. I looked at him in shock, right before he latched onto my neck, his sharp teeth painfully digging into my flesh. The angry, good-looking man was BITEING Me! He actually bit me!

When he finally let go, he had a demonic, pleased looking smirk on his face, the kind of smirk that makes the one receiving it want to dig a very deep hole and hide. Then he started to talk again, not letting me go.

"Finally…finally I have found my mate."

I cut him off before he could go any further, "I am not you mate." Then I realized that I was still in his arms. "And let go of me!"

"Oh no, you are my mate…mine forever."

Then he pulled me off into the water. I held my breath for as long as I could as I struggled to get away. Soon I was out of oxygen and my lungs were screaming for air, forcing me to inhale lake water. To my surprise I was able to breathe underwater…something I had never been able do before…I should know, I had a mermaid thing when I was little, so I tried to breathe under water.

We kept going deeper until the man turned to me and said, "Welcome to my…our…home, mate."

It turns out that the man who I saw on the lake was the Sanbi, a biju, in his human form. Within demon culture, the female will indicate her interest in the male she wants to mate by initiating the formal mating ritual with a short phrase that is universal in the demon world.

Unbeknownst to me, my catchphrase just happened to be the little phrase that shows the female's intention to mate. Two little words, said in anger, changed my life forever, and I do mean forever. You see if a full demon takes a mate who has even the smallest amount of demon DNA, the saliva of their mating bite will activate the non-full demon's demon DNA, making the change to full demon, immortal life included.

I guess that one time affair my great-grandmother had with a lesser bear demon, was enough to make me a little bit of demon. So it is a good thing my Sanbi turned out to be ok, well better than ok, not only is he good looking, in his non-demon form, but he was quite intelligent and sweet, at least his is when he is not playing cave man and issuing demands in his male dominating way…oh or territory threats.