A/N: So, guys here is my favorite Sabertooth character. On another note, did you know that Sabertooth had a ninja? A ninja that got close to no screentime and we saw nothing of his personality. So the thing I'm writing here is mostly speculation. Also, how come I started shipping him with Rufus while writing this?
"You know, I'm almost sure this is called theft."
"I might be. I have never been a man of high virtue."
Rufus could not quite see behind Dobengal's mask - the man took it off never - be the way the fabric moved showed a slight frown.
"I thought you had more pride. You are our shining knight and all of that. How come you allow others to call you a petty thief?" Dobengal's arms crossed in front of his chest.
Ah, those fools. "A thief I may be, but petty? Not at all, my fellow Sabertooth." Rufus skated on the ice with the moves of an experienced dancer. "Because I steal something no one has stolen before. Everyone can rob a bank, everyone can break into a home. But who, pray tell me, has heisted knowledge before?"
"Ah, so you fancy yourself one of those gentleman thieves? It explains your strange clothes, at least." The strain on the mask disappeared. "Can't blame you. I model myself after a murderer for hire of all things. Still, if you need only one glance, couldn't you just see me while I'm skating and not ask me to teach you."
"My most sincere apologies." Rufus spun on one leg so that he faced Dobengbal. "But has Sabertooth not reformed for the better? Should the thief not also seek redemption, then?" He did not need to know the second reason - flustering people was a favorite pastime of Rufus.
"Ah, now you're learning instead of stealing. Still, you should have said it will take you one demonstration only." Dobengbal hid a yawn behind his hand. "Both of us could sleep for a bit longer."
"Once again, I humbly apologize." Rufus bowed. "Would you honor one last request before you leave? I would like to show you my program."
"Only you will come with a program without rehearsals." Another yawn. "I'm already out of the bed; might as well watch you."
Rufus snapped his finger. Music played as if he had pulled a guitar string - a helpful spell he had picked in the past. His legs slid slowly on the icy glass. An elegant waltz, befitting a gentleman thief.
Every spin, every elegant pose, every refined movement - they did not belong to him. All to the last detail had been stolen - some out of admiration, some out of envy. All of them - with permission. But he changed them all - just as a translator left his mark on a poem. The idea belonged to him as much as it did not; it was unique as much as it was stolen.
When the music came to an end, Rufus was owed to the audience of one. Dobengbal applauded.
"A reformed thief, you said."
