Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! (sadly) and I lack the artistic skills to so much as replicate these characters, let alone have created them in the first place.

Read, enjoy (hopefully) and review (please). Should I continue? :3

Coarse language. Because this is the Varia, after all. :)

"Damn boss!" Squalo cursed quietly (for him, which admittedly was not very quiet at all).

"Had to beat up our martial arts expert." He continued, casually tossing a priceless antique vase to the floor.

"Not to mention our only Sun flame user." An exquisitely crafted glass bowl was next to go.

"How the HELL are we going to HEAL our FUCKING MEN now?" He snarled, flinging a hand-carved mahogany chair at the floor-to-ceiling glass window, effectively shattering it.

"STUPID. BOSS." The silver-haired swordsman yelled. Releasing a VOOIIII of frustration, he promptly began dismantling every piece of furniture in the room.

Very violently.

He was so focused in his efforts that he didn't notice the shaggy-haired blonde slip silently into the room.

"Ushishishishi~"

Squalo froze. Taking a deep breath, he reminding himself that he was already one (technically) man short, and that he really could not afford to lose another.

"What's wrong, Commander?" Bel drawled, drawing the title out so that it gained an almost mocking edge.

Clenching his fists so that the skin over his knuckles turned almost white, Squalo held his breath and forced himself to count to ten. One, two, thr-

Bel smiled lazily, bearing his teeth in a wolfish grin. And Squalo promptly lost it.

"YOU IDIOTIC, INFURIATING, UP-YOURSELF PRICK!" he growled, striding over to the maniac Prince, who merely grinned wider. Squalo took a deep breath, and was about to let rip with some decidedly less socially acceptable words when the unbearable, narcissistic assassin cut in smoothly.

"Royal blood flows through my veins. It would be best if you did not spill it."

Naturally, this only caused to further incense Squalo. Since it is, after all, Squalo who we are talking about here, increase in anger is directly proportional to increase in volume.

"VOOOOOOOOOIII!" he roared, spraying Bel's face with flecks of spittle as the blonde grimaced with disgust. "Don't speak to your Com-"

"Oi, Strategy Commander." It was now the emotionless voice of Fran that stopped Squalo's rant – he had been interrupted twice now, within the space of two minutes, he noted bitterly, and he reminded himself to punish them for that later. For now, though, he was interested in what the youngest Varia member had to say. "Can't we just recruit someone new?"

The Varia Commander blinked. "VOOII!" he hollered. "Do you know how incredibly irritating it would be to get a new member? Do you know how many tests it would take to determine Varia quality?"

Through the ranting, Fran stood with an impassive look on his face. "But if we don't get a Sun user, we'll all be dead, and then there won't be any Varia quality because there won't be any Varia." He pointed out, discussing the death of everyone in the room with less emotion than is used to describe the weather.

"VOII!" Squalo glared at the turquoise-haired boy, about to snap his head off, but then he stopped. And blinked. And a slow smile started to spread across his face. "Bel."

"Aah?" The blonde sneered. Trying to quash the quickly rising bloodlust rising in him, Squalo glowered back.

"Since you think you're so fucking high and mighty, why don't you go to Japan to find us some new members."

The grin on Bel's face quickly disappeared.

Squalo held back a smirk, closely watching the irked blonde as he added "Oh, and take Fran with you."

Bel frowned. "How in hell am I supposed to complete missions, then? You see, there is this thing called an ocean which separates Japan and Italy. Oceans are basically a shitload of salt water in one large as hell place, which are pretty damn hard to cross. And there is no fucking way I am babysitting."

"Think of it as a hiatus, Bel." Squalo grinned. "Unless, of course, you feel you are incapable of performing this task?" As Strategy Commander of this highly dysfunctional group, he knew exactly which buttons to press, and he did so with great joy (or as close to joy as Squalo could feel without being sickened. Let's just say sadistic enjoyment).

"Uh, Commander, I'm not too ha-" Fran deadpanned, looking straight ahead of himself.

"VOOII! Shut the fuck up, you toad-head!" Squalo roared, not taking his eyes off Bel for one moment lest he end up with a knife in the back. "Go fucking pack. Your flight's tomorrow."

Squalo watched with vindictive satisfaction as Fran and Bel left the room. Smirking, he waited until the door was almost closed before hollering, "At three a.m!"

He sighed contentedly, listening to the cursing that was not quite muffled by the heavy mahogany door that had swung shut.

Life was good, he thought, moving to sit down before noticing his chair was gone, replaced instead by a mass of splintered pieces of wood.

As was his desk, and pretty much everything else.

The scowl immediately appeared back on his face.

"VOOII! SOMEONE CLEAN THIS FUCKING MESS UP AND GET ME A CHAIR!"