Disclaimer: I don't own it. Wish I did, though.

A/N: Alrighty, then. This is where the whole fic starts getting good. The next chapter I'm expecting to be a doozy, then the chapter after that I already have written, so they should be coming pretty fast.

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Chapter 6

Hiroshi's mansion was much too flamboyant for anyone's taste, except maybe Hiroshi's. But, Deidara was of the opinion that not even Hiroshi liked his house- he just kept all the gold-embroidered pots and silk-woven tapestries for the sake of showing off his ill-gotten wealth. And indeed, the fact that Hiroshi was a crime lord as well as a feudal lord was obvious. The place smelled like drugs, blood, and the oil used on swords. The men leading Deidara and Sasori deeper into the base had more weapons than any soldier should have to carry, and had the kind of eyes Deidara would expect to find only on a ninja. Paranoid, twitchy, like they expected an attack from each of the shadows they passed. Deidara had been holding himself back with an admirable effort from laughing at them for their paranoia. They were worse then that weathered old Jounin back at Iwa!

But Deidara had to admit that he couldn't really blame them, even if they were funny. He didn't like the house. Hiroshi had made no attempt at making it seem inviting- for all the wealth displayed on the walls, they were cold and foreboding. The walls glittered, and the room sparkled, but there was no light, really. Just glimmers and shines from hard metal. It was worse then the Akatsuki base- it felt like a ghost house, something from a horror tale. Deidara wasn't one to be frightened so easily, though. He just kept his eyes open, as well as his instincts. He was on edge- nothing would get the best of him.

Sasori was a solid presence at his side, and even for the tough front Deidara was giving, he was thankful for that. Never in his life had Deidara known someone he could trust. All the ninja he'd worked with back in Iwa cared about nothing but the mission and their own paycheck. Deidara hadn't cared for them, and they hadn't cared for Deidara. So having someone that he knew would fight with him was new. Sasori would fight beside him, and would never hurt him on purpose. Even for all the threats Sasori threw at him when annoyed, and for all the cold exterior, Sasori would never hurt him.

And Deidara would never hurt Sasori. Ever since that first explosion that had caught Hiruko's tail, Deidara had been extra careful to not set off any of his bombs near enough to Sasori to hurt him. They'd developed a teamwork that was almost flawless, Deidara serving as long range and Sasori as short. Sasori knew when to pull back to let Deidara attack, and Deidara knew when to stop so Sasori could move in. That meant Deidara had to interrupt his art for Sasori, but somehow he found himself not caring. Stopping his art momentarily to keep Sasori safe was worth it.

Thus they'd both found a friendship growing between them, without either's consent. It was a strange feeling, but Deidara didn't mind it. He'd never had a true friend before.

After five minutes of walking down freezing hallways, they stopped at a flamboyant door. One of the men knocked on the door, the sharp sound harshly breaking the silence that penetrated the halls. The silence settled back down around them as they waited for an answer. Deidara was about to make some comment about the boss not being home, when there finally came a 'come in'. Well, he took his time, didn't he? He probably wasn't even doing anything- he'd just made them wait for the sake of laughing at them. Or making himself feel important or something.

The man who had knocked opened the door and allowed Sasori and Deidara to walk inside. The office on the other side was, surprisingly, very modest. It was on the small side, with the desk positioned directly in front of the door. It was some kind of dark wood, probably expensive, but at least it had some taste. There were a few piles of paper on the desk, and a book sitting neglected on the corner. Behind the desk, a little to the right, was a file cabinet. A plant sat in the opposite corner of the file cabinet, a couch along that wall. Two chairs were set out in front of the desk. The walls and floor were all hardwood, a creating an old-fashioned effect, but it looked quite nice. There were no pictures on the wall, or windows.

After examining the room, Deidara's eyes finally fell onto the man sitting behind the desk, leaning back in it lazily. He assumed it was Hiroshi, though Deidara hadn't been expecting Hiroshi to look like that. He'd been expecting a fat old man, who counted his money fifty times a day and stuffed his face with rare delicacies. The man staring back at Deidara and Sasori with cool dark eyes was far from that image. Well, it just went to show him- not all crime lords looked like idiots.

Hiroshi was surprisingly good looking, in an effeminate kind of way. Kind of like how Sasori was- not handsome, really. More pretty, than anything. Silver hair fell in spiked locks around Hiroshi's cool face, skin almost as pale as Sasori's. And Deidara could tell, right there, that the cool smirk gracing Hiroshi's lips was going to get annoying. Really annoying.

Sasori sat down in one of the chairs as soon as they were close enough to the desk, obviously intent on getting this over with as soon as he could. Deidara eyed the chair distrustingly first, then sat down on it. He eyed Hiroshi's shirt as he sat, though, silently admiring it. It was the most comfortable-looking formal shirt Deidara had ever seen.

"Well, I'm glad to see the Akatsuki keep their word." Hiroshi began, folding his hands on his desk, the look on his face perfectly friendly. This guy was good.

Sasori grunted, his answer to just about any comment he didn't particularly care about, as Deidara had learned on many an occasion. "What do you need?"

Hiroshi rapidly changed gears, so flawlessly that Deidara barely caught the frown on the man's face. He didn't like this guy- he was too hard to read. Probably experience with dealing with too many people. Like a politician. "An old rival has himself a group of ninja to fight for him. I'd kill them off without help, but they're a couple of missing nins from Mist." He gestured vaguely. "I can't give you much on what they can do, but I do know where they are right now. I want you to kill off the ninja and capture my enemy's daughter, if you can. A bargaining chip, you see."

Sasori nodded. Deidara didn't bother commenting. He was never good with these kinds of interactions anyway. He got frustrated too easily when he couldn't read someone, or when he knew he'd been played for the fool. "I assume your men will guide us there...?" Sasori asked, standing up again.

Hiroshi nodded and gestured for the man that had knocked on the door earlier. The man stepped up, and nodded to the two Akatsuki. He then walked out the door, and Sasori followed. Deidara gave one last suspicious glanced at Hiroshi, who was smiling innocently, and followed Sasori. That meeting had gone surprisingly painlessly, and Deidara wanted to know why. Maybe the fight was going to be a hard one. If it was hard, then having a difficult meeting beforehand would have just been unfair.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The warehouse of a building that housed Hiroshi's 'enemy' was one of the most obviously protected buildings Deidara had seen. There were so many samurai and hired mercenaries running around that Deidara couldn't hear if there were ninja in the shadows or not. He wasn't picking up that prickling feeling that he was being watched, but that also may have been the fault of all that noise. Armor was clanking as guards moved down the halls, the sharp screech of weapons being sharpened on whetstones echoed off the walls. There were shouts of drunken men, probably a party, or guards off-duty. No one was even trying to keep the place quiet, that much was obvious. But that may have been to help out the ninja, if they were on watch. It was much easier to keep hidden when one had cover- both visually and auditable-wise.

That was a strange bet to make, though. The sound also gave Sasori and Deidara more cover. These people were either incredibly arrogant or incredibly stupid.

Deidara shifted on the beam he was crouched on, to try and spot Sasori. He was high up off the ground, on one of the rafters near the roof, and looking down at the large main room of the warehouse. A portion of the building had been sectioned off into rooms, probably living quarters, and that was where Sasori was looking. They were locating the daughter before attacking- it always helped to have the target before chaos broke out.

The room Sasori had left him in was mostly filled with boxes, like a warehouse should be. The lighting was poor, so Deidara wasn't sure what the labels on them said, but he had the feeling he didn't want to know. Probably some kind of drugs, if he had to guess.

He'd been waiting for a while; what was taking Sasori so long was beyond him, so Deidara had decided to amuse himself while he waited. There was a guard directly below him that was talking to himself, probably to keep himself awake. He was talking about some kind of list, and Deidara was having trouble not chuckling to himself. The man had a girlfriend or the like, and in between listing items, he'd comment on how much she was going to kill him if he forgot anything. There was another man- older and rather stout, sitting against some boxes, probably taking a break. He was reading a rather vividly-colored book- titled 'Icha Icha Paradise'. Or at least, that's what Deidara thought it said. He'd seen the book in stores before- but he'd never read them. He'd heard they were good, though. And a great deal less than innocent.

The door to the sectioned off area opened, and Deidara's eyes darted to the entryway. A woman stepped through, but she was dressed like the guards were. Not the target, then. According to Hiroshi's men, she wasn't a fighter. Blond, blue-eyed, pretty. Shouldn't be too hard to pick out. The man giving the description been about to give her freaking personal habits and measurements, which neither Deidara nor Sasori had wanted to hear, so the man had thankfully stopped. Deidara couldn't help but pity the girl, if that kind of information was readily known among the group that was about to hold her prisoner. But he spared her no more than a passing thought. She was the target, along with the hired ninja, after all.

There was a flicker of a shadow behind the woman as she walked out, and closed the door behind her. Deidara barely noticed it- but because he did see it, he wasn't surprised when Sasori appeared on the beam beside him. He was carrying a girl under one arm, unconscious. She also fit the 'voluptuous, blond haired, blue-eyed' description they'd gotten. She was wearing an almost skin-tight short red dress- and by short, it was barely covering her ass. The only reason it wasn't riding up on her in her current half-upsidedown position was by virtue of how tight the cloth hugged her thighs. Deidara was, for once, glad that a female was wearing tight clothing in his presence. Sasori didn't look too happy about having to carry her, either, which made Deidara happy. He didn't stop to think about why.

The partners locked gazes, and Sasori tilted his head down towards the floor below them. Sasori was giving Deidara the go-ahead to make some noise and attract the attention of the ninja they were to get rid of.

Deidara pulled back the hem of his Akatsuki coat gladly, opening the pouch at his side with practiced ease. He removed a sculpture he'd made before-hand; a special mixture of clay that took him quite a while to perfect. He called it "C", and it made more of a boom than his normal clay did, with less of it necessary to make the explosion. He'd sculpted it into a bird, with its wings outstretched in mid-flight.

He paused a moment and debated where to set it off. There wasn't much of it- he still wasn't really good at making it- and he'd made the clay more for flashy purposes than anything. It wouldn't make a damaging explosion, but it would catch some attention, that was for sure. He decided to throw it at the door to the area sectioned off as a house. So, with a devilish grin, Deidara chucked the small clay bird at the door, and detonated it with a hand seal just as it hit.

The explosion pleased Deidara, as did the havoc it caused. A fire started where the explosion had knocked out the wall, and the guards that had previously been goofing off or sleeping jumped to attention, hurrying towards the fire to put it out. The party going on had turned from happy shouts to screams and yells, and confusion settled upon the warehouse. It took a few moments, but two men in tattered cloaks landed before the fire, using the body flicker jutsu. Deidara didn't know if there were more than just the two, but he did know the men were the first of his targets.

Deidara leapt down from the beam, leaving Sasori to guard the girl. He formed several hand seals on the way down, and three kage bunshin landed with him as he touched down onto the warehouse floor. The bunshin spread out around the two targets without Deidara having to do anything to tell them to. The two targets didn't look fazed, reassuring Deidara that these two were indeed missing nin.

The ninja on the left leapt towards him, but the right on stayed where he was. It made sense because of the difference in their body structure; the one barreling towards him was muscled and pulling out metal-plated nunchaku, the one left behind was smaller and forming hand seals furiously. Deidara leapt back and away from the nunchaku ninja while ordering one of his clones back to help him with a flicker of chakra. Once he was out of immediate bodily harm Deidara glanced up to make sure his two other clones were attacking the other ninja. He was mildly pleased with what he saw- both of his clones were heading for the smaller ninja with explosive clay in their hands. The ninja hadn't tried to evade them yet- he must not have realized the clay could explode.

Deidara brought his attention back to the ninja coming towards him, and was barely able to get a kunai out to deflect the metal bar heading towards his head. The larger ninja recovered gracefully, surprising Deidara a little bit. The chain weapon snaked back and around him and came up in the man's other hand. Deidara dodged to the right, missing the strike aimed at his chest. Peripherally he acknowledged the sound of water hitting the ground- instantly he knew the other ninja his clones had been attacking was a water cone. That meant he didn't know where the second enemy was; not a good thing.

The clay his other two clones were holding exploded, destroying them in the process. The chakra returned to him, bringing to him the knowledge the clones had gained, but they hadn't seen where the second nin had gone. Damn.

By the larger ninja's third strike, Deidara's last clone had reached them. Deidara didn't waste any time waiting for an opportune moment- he just sent the clone at the ninja, tackling the man to the side and away from the real Deidara. That gave him the chance to jump away from the nunchaku man and look around for the second, and probably more dangerous, ninja.

Going off a sudden hunch, Deidara spun on the ball of his foot to face the direction Sasori and the target were in. Except...he wasn't seeing the back wall of the warehouse. He was seeing two dragon-like forms made of water rocketing straight towards him. Behind the jutsu heading at him, Deidara could see the other ninja, hanging on the wall with chakra and grinning. But Deidara's concern wasn't with the ninja, now he had to save his own skin- and judging by the prickle at the back of his neck, the other nunchaku ninja was coming back at him. Either his kage bunshin had been defeated, or the ninja had evaded it.

Deidara didn't have the time to evade both the ninja and the jutsu, he realized. He'd have to take one blow or the other. So, deciding fast, Deidara turned again, putting his back to the jutsu. He threw several clay dolls at the ninja to get him to back off and dismissed his useless bunshin in one move, then braced himself to get hit by the water on his back. It never came, though. Eyes wide, Deidara spun yet again to find a tall dark shape between him and where the jutsu had come from. Part of it was now destroyed, eaten away at by the water. There was a faint glow around it- where those chakra lines? His eyes shot up to the beam he'd been hiding on earlier, to see Sasori standing on the edge of it, hand extended to control the puppet that had protected Deidara. With an expansive gesture Sasori moved the puppet to deal with the nunchaku ninja, who had just barely avoided the exploding clay.

Deidara found a smile curving his lips as he leapt off towards the ninja that had used the jutsu. He should have been expecting that one, but he supposed that he'd thought Sasori would stay with the target. They were partners, though. Sasori was always at his back with his puppets, and Deidara was always at Sasori's. It was a bit too sentimental for Deidara's tastes, though, putting it like that. Even if it was true. Deidara was not touchy-feely- he was a mass murdering missing ninja. He may have been more in-tune with his own emotions and be able to read the emotions of those around him more so than others, but that did not make him touchy-feely. He still had some dignity.

But this was not the time to be thinking about this. The ninja that had cast the jutsu had realized by then that Deidara was heading towards him. He'd begun to run along the wall, towards the walled-off area. Deidara gave chase, forming a clay bird in each hand. He had just brought them to life and thrown them towards the fleeing ninja when he heard a deep rumbling groan from behind him. It was followed by the screeching grind of stone against stone. Alarmed, Deidara turned to where the sound had come from- the direction of Sasori and the target.

Deidara turned just in time to see Sasori impaled with a spear of rock. The puppet master's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open in surprise. The chakra strings detached from his fingers, the puppet on the ground below him falling lifeless. The spear retracted out of his upper abdomen, and Sasori fell forward, off the beam, landing onto the stone floor with a thud. There was a third ninja standing on the beam, the rock spear in hand. He had the target draped over one shoulder.

Deidara wasn't keeping up with his mind. He'd been trained as a ninja- facts before emotions, always. He'd already formulated several courses of action to send all three of the ninja to the afterlife- very painfully- when he realized what he was doing. Sasori still hadn't moved from where he'd fallen. Of course he hadn't- he'd just been impaled through the stomach. He wasn't going to survive that. No one could survive that. But Sasori couldn't be dead, Deidara wasn't going to stand for that. Sasori could. Not. Die.

There was the distinct feeling of a clamp over his heart and lungs as he leapt up towards the ninja holding the target. There was a lump forming at the back of his throat, and his breath was becoming more irregular as he moved. He didn't feel the clay in his hand, didn't remember throwing the doll at the ninja. He did remember the ninja dodging, because it reminded him that he had to get the target back before he killed the man.

He was perfectly numb as he launched himself towards the ninja, who was still retreating. Sasori wasn't dead, because Sasori couldn't die. Sasori was Sasori. It didn't work that way. He caught up to the ninja and slashed at him with a kunai, forcing the man to keep retreating. The man performed hand seals and that rumbling sound filled the room again. Deidara dodged to the left just as a slim spear of stone shot up out of the ground, rocketing towards the beam where they were standing. It shot past him and imbedded itself into the roof, and Deidara paid it no more attention. That wasn't the weapon of Sasori's demise, because Sasori wasn't dead.

He backed off enough to form another clay bomb. The man must have thought he was going to throw it, because he started running. Deidara chased after him, and tripped the man off of the beam when he caught up. He grabbed the target, and threw a clay spider at him as he fell. He turned back to the two other ninja, and didn't pay any attention to the explosion and the cry of agony as the man died.

He didn't remember moving again- but he did remember the soft resistance against his kunai as he pushed the small blade into the back of the smaller ninja's head. The air was thicker than it should have been as he threw the man down and launched himself at the last one. His lungs felt frozen, his stomach was tied in knots. He tore the last man's throat out with the same kunai. Sasori wasn't dead.

At last he turned back towards Sasori's corpse, unnaturally numb. He couldn't feel enough to know if there were tears in his eyes. But what he saw sent him reeling- almost physically- into the floor. There were three corpses on the ground. There were supposed to be four. Sasori wasn't lying on the ground, dead. He was standing up, slowly, moving fine, as if he hadn't just been stabbed through with a rock. There was no blood soaking his Akatsuki coat, and because of the thick black cloth Deidara couldn't see the wound. How was Sasori standing? How was any of this happening?

Sasori must have noticed Deidara staring in stunned silence because he squared his shoulders and gave him an apologetic, rueful look. If Sasori was capable of looking rueful.

"Well, are the targets dead?" He asked finally, a little awkwardly.

Deidara nodded dumbly.

"I suppose we should leave, then."

Deidara nodded again.

Sasori slowly turned and began walking out, pausing every few steps to make sure Deidara was still following.

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An hour later the girl was handed over, the mission accomplished, the leader contacted, and a hotel room was paid for, courtesy of Hiroshi. Deidara claimed a bed before Sasori was even in the room, spun, and pointed at the puppet master. He'd kept pretty quiet for the whole meeting, refraining from asking why Sasori was still even standing. But now they were both alone, and Sasori couldn't skirt around the subject any longer.

"Alright, Sasori-danna, yeah. What did you do back there?"

Sasori sighed silently and walked over to the bed that Deidara hadn't claimed. He didn't sit down- he ran his fingers skillfully down the front of the coat, unbuttoning it quickly, instead. He threw the coat onto the bed, revealing that he wore no shirt under the cloth. It wasn't the absence of a shirt that caught Deidara's attention, though. It was Sasori.

He couldn't have been human. The thought flashed through Deidara's mind with regret and another emotion- he wasn't sure what. Sasori's chest looked like wood. It probably was wood. He knew some puppet masters rigged themselves, but this...there were joint lines around an oval-shaped panel on the right side of Sasori's chest- like he could open it. There was some kind of cylinder protruding from the left side of his chest, with vein-like raised areas around it, leading into whatever it was Sasori was made of. The abdomen was the most disturbing, though- it was hollow, filled with coils of a metallic cord. Without the cloak the joints of his arms were clearly visible, as was a joint connecting his head to his neck. A movement behind Sasori caught Deidara's attention- there were wing-like blades coming off of two extra limbs off of Sasori's back, connecting to him a little below where his shoulder blades would be.

There was a hole right above the chamber in his abdomen, where he'd been impaled. There was no blood, no sign that the injury had caused him any pain.

Sasori endured Deidara's stare for a long moment before speaking. It sounded hard for him, though Deidara didn't know why. He'd obviously been like this for a while, by how well he'd hidden it. "This...is why, brat. More than forty years ago, I turned myself into a puppet. I haven't been human for longer than you've been alive."

And this was why Sasori didn't eat. This was why Sasori never seemed to really sleep, only lay on the bed lifelessly. This was why Sasori could wear that cloak in the heat of the summer, and stay in Hiruko for hours on end without getting sore. Deidara had only touched Sasori a few times during their partnership- but this was why he always felt so cold. But...if Sasori couldn't feel, and wasn't human...

Deidara was severely disappointed...or something along those lines. He'd been spending the past few months wondering whether or not Sasori was straight, trying to judge by his daily habits, to no avail. This was probably why. If Sasori wasn't human, Deidara doubted he could manage something like that.

Oh, well. It was a shame, but it didn't matter that much. Maybe Deidara could try his luck with one of the other members of the Akatsuki. Who looked decent? Hidan was okay, but he was pretty sure the man was straight. He wasn't even going to think about Kakuzu, Kisame, or Zetsu- Deidara didn't do freaks. Or that freaky, at least. Itachi? Maybe...but the guy was so withdrawn and creepy. Plus, he was stronger than anyone had any right to be. He didn't even know what the leader looked like clearly, so not him, either.

Deidara sighed, and finally let his gaze rise from Sasori's chest to his face. Why did this hurt so much, then? If it was just a matter of screwing Sasori, Deidara shouldn't be this distraught over it. But...he was upset. That feeling of his stomach tying itself into knots had come back, and there was something else bouncing around in his chest, more than just disappointment. Was it leftover from what he'd felt when he'd thought Sasori had died? Why had he reacted like that, anyway?

...Was this more than just attraction? Over these past six months, and it had only been six months, had he fallen...in love?

...With a puppet?