DISCLAIM IT: You think that after stating this in my other stories,that it'd change? Then yes I own the version of Naruto in which Deidara and Sasori don't die, and Sakura's in the mental rehab getting her pinkhead fixed.

A/N: Sorry, this was a one-shot challenge to myself, to work under thirty minutes or less. :3

Pairing: SasoriDeidara

Warning: First POV, and MM.

SECOND A/N AND WARNING: This was actually in my other story: His Mystery. It was originally a TobiDeidara but...I got bored halfway and decided to take it off and put it here, in my oneshot collection thingy. I hope you guys don't shoot me for it, lol.

LAST WARNING: I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A TOBIDEI. THIS IS A SASODEI. Geez. I just meant that I nicked this interlude off from my other story. --;;

Finesse

The art of killing is sometimes a difficult concept to grasp.

You can kill an enemy while allowing them feeling pain, or you can kill them swiftly, leaving them to die without the pain. Most of the time I find myself hard pressed to do the latter, but I can't afford to be cruel.

Most of the time.

You see, there's just this one person in the entire world that's got my own perception of worldly art down to a nutshell. And that's my partner, Deidara.

You know, blond haired, blue eyed, annoying-as-hell bombshell?

Yeah, sound familiar yet?

…No? Well, how about I describe him some more.

He's, like I said earlier, annoying as hell. He's so arrogant that it pisses me off whenever he opens his big mouth. I'd cut him in half if I had the chance, but I really wouldn't want to: having one Deidara is enough, but two? Someone just kill me.

Anyway, he's like, this tall. Imagine a tree with sticks and a smaller tree with arms besides it--yeah, that's it. He's a little bit taller than me.

Okay, really taller than me. Shut up.

He also has two mouths on his palms. Palmouths or something, or so he tells me, whenever he has the time after battle. I think they're disgusting, because—well, I think he does perverted things with them. Like—

Nevermind. Don't want to think about it. The mental imagery is enough to make me hurl, if I had the stomach to do so. Or an esophagus for that matter, or a pancre—

Ahem.

But I digress. Pervert though he is.

Uh-hum...let's see…Where was I? Oh, right, Deidara.

Deidara has this tendency to prattle on and on about his art. There is nothing more annoying in the world, than listening to a blond boy talk about his psychotic pastime of blowing people and things up.

Then again, I shouldn't be talking; I made myself into a walking and talking puppet, for crying out loud.

...Right, so enough about me, and more about the idiot. The blond buffoon has this spiffy scope on his one eye—says it'll help him against Itachi's genjutsu, but I don't really think it'll help defeat that bastard Uchiha. He's a megalomaniac that one, thinking he's so high and mighty. Well mister blind-bat, I'd like to see you say that when you trip over a rock. Then we'll see who's laughing.

Cough.

Anyway, Deidara's adamant about it though.

Oh well, his funeral and my party.

...So, does he sound familiar yet?

Yes? No? Well, I hope he is now, because he's whining next to me, wondering when we'll be done with our current C-Class Mission.

Yes, you heard it, a C-CLASS mission. It's a simple retrieval. We both have to get this old daimyo's dog from the nearby veterinarian or something.

And let me say this:

As an S-Class missing nin and one of the most notorious in the Bingo Book, this is just one, big and pathetic mission. I don't even consider it a mission. It's more like an insult. I speculate that it's Leader-sama's revenge, for coloring his hair pink and painting his nails blue. He lopped my right arm clean off, and man, did it take me forever to get it back to working shape. That, and it hurt like a major bitch. Guess that means that I should stick low and try not to prank the rest of the Akatsuki members, huh?

...Hm? What? You're confused now? You want me to elucidate? Okay, fine, whatever, if it'll get you idiots off my back.

With my whole body made out of wood, one would think I wouldn't be able to feel, right?

Wrong, because I sure as hell can feel. You just have to poke me hard enough. Or maybe even try and smite me into pieces. Shit, that happened once because of Kisame, and it hurt.

…What? You expected me not to feel? I mean, seriously, why would I go through all the trouble of extracting my own nerves? Wouldn't that mean that I'd have to extract my brain as well?

Tch. Still don't understand?

I knew you people don't think at all. So, let me spell it out for you:

The brain is connected to the nerves; hereby making it one damnably long process to try and scrape out of one's self. Trust me, I've done it to other people, what—only a thousand times?

Oh, and if you're wondering about…the other part. Well, I can't chop off my own manhood for Jashin's sake! That's just wrong. I'd be castrating myself in the process of eternalizing my ideal form of art!

...Ugh, just stop it.

"Sasori-no-Danna!" whines the brat next to me, stomping his foot like a six-year old on melon-flavored Ramune.

"What?" I snap, turning on him and growling. Good thing I'm in Hiruko, and I've never shown him my face yet. Otherwise, he'd be buggering me about my youth, and my being a kid and stuff. God knows he already has enough ammunition about me being ugly, bald, fat and hunched-back and stuff.

No need to give him anymore to yabber about.

"Are we there yet, un?!" he pouts, and I'm tempted to roll my eyes, but I can't.

I forgot to oil Hiruko's eyes before we left, that's why.

"Almost," I grunt, and try in vain to ignore him.

He sulks. "This is the first mission I have with you, so why are you so mean to me, un?" he asks, pouting even more.

I twitch inside Hiruko. "Listen kid," I begin patiently. "It's because I'm older than you and because I can. No need to get so worked up over it."

"Bah!" he shouts, and throws his hands up in the air. "The first time I saw you, I thought you'd be nicer! For an ugly man, that is, un!" he adds under his breath.

"Whatever, brat." I ignore his angry mumbling, and walk in front of him. "I will always cherish the initial misconception I had about you," I state, even as he starts to sulk again.

"Hmph!" he sniffs.

But he can't keep quiet; I've been living in the same room with him for two months, and I know he can't. Fidgety bastard.

So predictably, in the first few minutes of my blissful silence, Deidara just has to interrupt it and sound like a broken record. He goes like this for nearly half the trip:

"Talk to me, danna!"

"Stop ignoring me, danna!"

"I'm going to blow you up, danna!"

"Hey, un! Are you even listening to me, danna?!"

"Dan-na--!" Deidara girlishy shrieks, a few meters behind me. I hear a rustle of ninja, and I can't help but sigh.

I think that's my cue to start saving him from evil bunnies or rocks or something. Guess I can't talk to you now, huh?

After all, I've got my idiot partner to save.

A/N: Aight. So...Yeah. That's it. I only double update because I'm cheating this time. I wrote this a LOOONG time ago (a few months ago, give or take-?) Anyway, enjoy the two chapters. Much love, kisses, whatever. :D