DISCLAIMER: What's the purpose of this tradition, really? To keep us
humble? I admit it freely: I don't own Saiyuki. Consider my tou koued. To
remind us not to sell to each other for money? Hey, all I'm looking for is
a nice review. Or, you know, however many you nice people feel like... um.
Yeah. Please? (hopeful smile)
Notes: Er. In the excitement of putting my site up, I appear to have forgotten to thank the nice people who reviewed me. I am -extremely- sorry, and can only offer the excuse of being an -overworked- flighty idiot. They'll all be at the bottom. As a token of my sincere apologies, I offer this chapter, ahead of schedule (which probably explains a few things about it).
WARNINGS: spackle or AU fic, as you like. There will be hormones flying -everywhere,- and even I don't know where they're all going to end up, or what the rating will end up being. Er, and this is also the Fic Where Nightfall Tries To Get Over Her Dislike of Foul Language. If it's too much, I apologize.
----------------------------
In Hir Wicked Style
by Nightfall
Part five: Sanzo
-----------------------------
"Have your tea party some goddamn other place!" Sanzo yelled, pounding on the door of the bathhouse because it would take more of an idiot than she was to shoot at Kanan even in a much better mood than this.
The other one snorted. "That won't work," he said.
She eyed him with dislike. He stared flatly back at her, unimpressed.
Nearly a whole minute later, they both turned away from each other and sat down on opposite ends of the stoop. Eventually, he produced a newspaper, put on a pair of thin, frameless glasses, and started to read it.
After another long minute or so, she asked, "Anything in the area?"
He lowered the paper and turned, looking at her over the rims of his spectacles. "Hn," he said, and handed her a section.
"Hm," she thanked him, and brought her own glasses out.
Eventually, they switched.
"Sanzo," a cheerful tenor startled her, and she looked up slowly to see Kanan looking almost natural on her pseudo-brother's arm. "We're finished now," he went on to say. "Since there are so many of us, shall we fetch Gojyo and Goku or Sha-san and the other young lady first?"
Sanzo snorted instead of answering, and stood up, saying to Kanan, "He's good."
"Better than I would have thought," Kanan agreed, and Sanzo's eyes narrowed. That hadn't been a compliment, and the brother knew it.
She'd work it out in the bath. "I don't bathe with the women," she said, and turned on her heel to go in.
"Who do you think you're fooling," her counterpart asked coolly.
She didn't turn to look at him. "Practically everyone," she returned, equally coolly. "I don't like to be bothered."
"Sanzo gets bothered anyway," the brother said, a sly, affectionate jibe in his voice.
"Perhaps less," Kanan suggested, and that was a reprimand.
"Well, possibly," he said mildly, disagreeing.
"You're not fooling anyone here," the other monk said to her, and she knew he was thinking that if he didn't get to bathe alone, neither did she. But she could smell him distrusting those two arms linked together as much as she did. "Even an innkeeper can count up to four."
"I can count to eight," Kanan said. "We'd better go shopping."
"I can count to twelve," her brother countered cryptically, and his monk snorted agreement. "We should take your card, Sanzo. It's impossible to know whether theirs will work here."
"All the more reason to try it first," the other monk drawled.
"I suppose you have a point," his companion laughed, looking nervous. He wasn't nervous. She didn't need diplomacy. Who did he think he was, considering her feelings? They were none of his business.
"Hell if I care," she shrugged, and passed her card to Kanan before heading in towards the hot water. "It's not my money."
"We'll send Kaikara in," Kanan assured her soothingly.
Sanzo stopped, jerked her head halfway around, stared at her friend incredulously. "Kanan," she said flatly. "If you start taking lessons from this two-faced snake-in-the-grass I will kick your ass all the way back to Chang'An and live off takeout and jerky for the rest of the trip."
"Ahaha," Kanan's brother said hastily--it really was a word the way he said it, not a laugh--and, shooting Sanzo a dirty look from behind his even smile, ushered his amused sister away.
"You're too late," the other monk said from behind his newspaper. "That behavior doesn't get unlearned."
She glared at him, and elected not to inquire. He was almost certainly right, anyway, regardless of how he knew. Those slippery, helpful barbs of his talented Hakkai's were much too useful for her ruthless Kanan to discard lightly. Instead, she asked, "And after dinner?"
"We sleep."
"And in the morning?"
"You go home."
"How?" she demanded.
He just shrugged. "Saa."
"You don't know," she accused him flatly.
He lowered the newspaper, looked at her impassively. "The way you came," he explained, as though to a child and also as though it gave him great satisfaction, the smug bastard. "I suspect."
"You must be a man of great faith, Kouryuu Sanzo-Houshi," she mocked. "How pleasant it must be to trust in the gods. They don't give a flying fuck if we win or die. Maybe some celestial money will change hands. The beurocrats will fret. The Merciful One will sulk. They won't let that matter. What happens under Heaven is beneath Heaven's notice."
"No," he said, with a bitter tone she recognized, one that quieted her. "No, the gods save no one."
"If you know that," she started, and was cut off when he put the paper down altogether.
"But I also know how that two-faced snake-in-the-grass thinks," he said without acrimony.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know that I don't?"
"My own name, to begin with," he drawled, "Kouryuu-kun."
"Kouryuu yourself," she snapped. She didn't need him being diplomatic with her either. "It's Shoutai."
He blinked, unimpressed. "Genjo."
"Whatever," she said, and turned on her heel again. "I'm going to take my bath."
"You'll do as you please," he said curtly. "Sanzo."
She held still for a moment, and then breathed out, letting her shoulders down a notch. "If you see my monkey, Sanzo," she said without inflection, "tell her to get her smelly ass in here."
"If I feel like it," he said maddeningly. And so, as she finally made it into the bathhouse, her lips were turned upward.
Just a little.
[end part five]
----------------------------------------
OMAKE!
'The SEME at the End of this Fic'
starring lovable, placid old HAKKAI
and adorably vague but considerably older TENPOU.
-------------
Hakkai: YOU CLICKED ANOTHER LINK! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE -DOING- TO ME!
Tenpou: (aside) Does living make everyone this high-strung?
Hakkai: (slumped) How did you do that, anyway?
Tenpou: (pats his shoulder) Welcome to the Internet, Hakkai-kun.
Hakkai: Ah. (glum) Note to self: next time, aim for the mouse.
[end omake five]
--------------------------------------
To all perplexed parties, I hope things are starting to clear up. A little, at least. As I said elsewhere, I have a really bad habit, derived from reading too much Sherlock Holmes at an impressionable age, of keeping the plot of longer works under my hat. I can only ask you to forgive and continue to bear with me (bows).
So!
ChaosD--I'll consider myself congratulated anyway, I think--thanks. Yes, as noted above, I have a bad habit about that 'eventually.' And for reading through this mess of a first draft at three AM in not-your-native-tongue without chucking the computer out the window, let alone getting confused, my compliments!
OptiMoose, hope chapter 4 cleared up your Kanan questions. I'm glad you're amused--and I hope you aren't going to be disappointed, but the fic -will- take a turn for the hormonal. Possibly several.
And if I lose OptiMoose by letting that out, I know some other fen I'll probably attract... (winks)
Merf: Bingo! Don't worry, I will! Unless RL drowns me, that is...
Drelfinya: not a Sesame Street kid, I can tell (grins). Well, however the omake turns out, I hope you'll get a laugh out of it...
Me-Nuriko: Eheh. Caught me out. Yes, I'm a bit too ready to let my readers struggle; every teacher I've ever had has told me to assume my audience is ignorant and stupid, but somehow I just can't do it... Yeah, I can't read Suefics either. Except sf's. You should go read hers if you haven't yet, because it's -hilarious.-
Stitcher2ficcer called me warped! Waaaaaaai!
She doesn't know the half of it, though (eeevil grin). Ahem. Yes. I like 58. I also like 38, but Gojyo's easier for me to write than Sanzo is. As you can probably tell from this chapter (is sheepish).
DoSet, thank you, really thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt and sticking with the story, even though it started out lacking information. And please don't apologize for making my day. Long reviews are -good.- I will clear up your confusion, though. That bit about the smell was me relying on people knowing that people don't smell themselves until they're seriously whiffy. The one Goku didn't smell was the she- saru, not Kanan. And don't worry--there'll be more Cho and Cho interaction very soon.
Notes: Er. In the excitement of putting my site up, I appear to have forgotten to thank the nice people who reviewed me. I am -extremely- sorry, and can only offer the excuse of being an -overworked- flighty idiot. They'll all be at the bottom. As a token of my sincere apologies, I offer this chapter, ahead of schedule (which probably explains a few things about it).
WARNINGS: spackle or AU fic, as you like. There will be hormones flying -everywhere,- and even I don't know where they're all going to end up, or what the rating will end up being. Er, and this is also the Fic Where Nightfall Tries To Get Over Her Dislike of Foul Language. If it's too much, I apologize.
----------------------------
In Hir Wicked Style
by Nightfall
Part five: Sanzo
-----------------------------
"Have your tea party some goddamn other place!" Sanzo yelled, pounding on the door of the bathhouse because it would take more of an idiot than she was to shoot at Kanan even in a much better mood than this.
The other one snorted. "That won't work," he said.
She eyed him with dislike. He stared flatly back at her, unimpressed.
Nearly a whole minute later, they both turned away from each other and sat down on opposite ends of the stoop. Eventually, he produced a newspaper, put on a pair of thin, frameless glasses, and started to read it.
After another long minute or so, she asked, "Anything in the area?"
He lowered the paper and turned, looking at her over the rims of his spectacles. "Hn," he said, and handed her a section.
"Hm," she thanked him, and brought her own glasses out.
Eventually, they switched.
"Sanzo," a cheerful tenor startled her, and she looked up slowly to see Kanan looking almost natural on her pseudo-brother's arm. "We're finished now," he went on to say. "Since there are so many of us, shall we fetch Gojyo and Goku or Sha-san and the other young lady first?"
Sanzo snorted instead of answering, and stood up, saying to Kanan, "He's good."
"Better than I would have thought," Kanan agreed, and Sanzo's eyes narrowed. That hadn't been a compliment, and the brother knew it.
She'd work it out in the bath. "I don't bathe with the women," she said, and turned on her heel to go in.
"Who do you think you're fooling," her counterpart asked coolly.
She didn't turn to look at him. "Practically everyone," she returned, equally coolly. "I don't like to be bothered."
"Sanzo gets bothered anyway," the brother said, a sly, affectionate jibe in his voice.
"Perhaps less," Kanan suggested, and that was a reprimand.
"Well, possibly," he said mildly, disagreeing.
"You're not fooling anyone here," the other monk said to her, and she knew he was thinking that if he didn't get to bathe alone, neither did she. But she could smell him distrusting those two arms linked together as much as she did. "Even an innkeeper can count up to four."
"I can count to eight," Kanan said. "We'd better go shopping."
"I can count to twelve," her brother countered cryptically, and his monk snorted agreement. "We should take your card, Sanzo. It's impossible to know whether theirs will work here."
"All the more reason to try it first," the other monk drawled.
"I suppose you have a point," his companion laughed, looking nervous. He wasn't nervous. She didn't need diplomacy. Who did he think he was, considering her feelings? They were none of his business.
"Hell if I care," she shrugged, and passed her card to Kanan before heading in towards the hot water. "It's not my money."
"We'll send Kaikara in," Kanan assured her soothingly.
Sanzo stopped, jerked her head halfway around, stared at her friend incredulously. "Kanan," she said flatly. "If you start taking lessons from this two-faced snake-in-the-grass I will kick your ass all the way back to Chang'An and live off takeout and jerky for the rest of the trip."
"Ahaha," Kanan's brother said hastily--it really was a word the way he said it, not a laugh--and, shooting Sanzo a dirty look from behind his even smile, ushered his amused sister away.
"You're too late," the other monk said from behind his newspaper. "That behavior doesn't get unlearned."
She glared at him, and elected not to inquire. He was almost certainly right, anyway, regardless of how he knew. Those slippery, helpful barbs of his talented Hakkai's were much too useful for her ruthless Kanan to discard lightly. Instead, she asked, "And after dinner?"
"We sleep."
"And in the morning?"
"You go home."
"How?" she demanded.
He just shrugged. "Saa."
"You don't know," she accused him flatly.
He lowered the newspaper, looked at her impassively. "The way you came," he explained, as though to a child and also as though it gave him great satisfaction, the smug bastard. "I suspect."
"You must be a man of great faith, Kouryuu Sanzo-Houshi," she mocked. "How pleasant it must be to trust in the gods. They don't give a flying fuck if we win or die. Maybe some celestial money will change hands. The beurocrats will fret. The Merciful One will sulk. They won't let that matter. What happens under Heaven is beneath Heaven's notice."
"No," he said, with a bitter tone she recognized, one that quieted her. "No, the gods save no one."
"If you know that," she started, and was cut off when he put the paper down altogether.
"But I also know how that two-faced snake-in-the-grass thinks," he said without acrimony.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know that I don't?"
"My own name, to begin with," he drawled, "Kouryuu-kun."
"Kouryuu yourself," she snapped. She didn't need him being diplomatic with her either. "It's Shoutai."
He blinked, unimpressed. "Genjo."
"Whatever," she said, and turned on her heel again. "I'm going to take my bath."
"You'll do as you please," he said curtly. "Sanzo."
She held still for a moment, and then breathed out, letting her shoulders down a notch. "If you see my monkey, Sanzo," she said without inflection, "tell her to get her smelly ass in here."
"If I feel like it," he said maddeningly. And so, as she finally made it into the bathhouse, her lips were turned upward.
Just a little.
[end part five]
----------------------------------------
OMAKE!
'The SEME at the End of this Fic'
starring lovable, placid old HAKKAI
and adorably vague but considerably older TENPOU.
-------------
Hakkai: YOU CLICKED ANOTHER LINK! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE -DOING- TO ME!
Tenpou: (aside) Does living make everyone this high-strung?
Hakkai: (slumped) How did you do that, anyway?
Tenpou: (pats his shoulder) Welcome to the Internet, Hakkai-kun.
Hakkai: Ah. (glum) Note to self: next time, aim for the mouse.
[end omake five]
--------------------------------------
To all perplexed parties, I hope things are starting to clear up. A little, at least. As I said elsewhere, I have a really bad habit, derived from reading too much Sherlock Holmes at an impressionable age, of keeping the plot of longer works under my hat. I can only ask you to forgive and continue to bear with me (bows).
So!
ChaosD--I'll consider myself congratulated anyway, I think--thanks. Yes, as noted above, I have a bad habit about that 'eventually.' And for reading through this mess of a first draft at three AM in not-your-native-tongue without chucking the computer out the window, let alone getting confused, my compliments!
OptiMoose, hope chapter 4 cleared up your Kanan questions. I'm glad you're amused--and I hope you aren't going to be disappointed, but the fic -will- take a turn for the hormonal. Possibly several.
And if I lose OptiMoose by letting that out, I know some other fen I'll probably attract... (winks)
Merf: Bingo! Don't worry, I will! Unless RL drowns me, that is...
Drelfinya: not a Sesame Street kid, I can tell (grins). Well, however the omake turns out, I hope you'll get a laugh out of it...
Me-Nuriko: Eheh. Caught me out. Yes, I'm a bit too ready to let my readers struggle; every teacher I've ever had has told me to assume my audience is ignorant and stupid, but somehow I just can't do it... Yeah, I can't read Suefics either. Except sf's. You should go read hers if you haven't yet, because it's -hilarious.-
Stitcher2ficcer called me warped! Waaaaaaai!
She doesn't know the half of it, though (eeevil grin). Ahem. Yes. I like 58. I also like 38, but Gojyo's easier for me to write than Sanzo is. As you can probably tell from this chapter (is sheepish).
DoSet, thank you, really thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt and sticking with the story, even though it started out lacking information. And please don't apologize for making my day. Long reviews are -good.- I will clear up your confusion, though. That bit about the smell was me relying on people knowing that people don't smell themselves until they're seriously whiffy. The one Goku didn't smell was the she- saru, not Kanan. And don't worry--there'll be more Cho and Cho interaction very soon.