Authors: Kiki (Hey-Diddle-Diddle) and WinterOfOurDiscontent
Genre: Humor/Romance
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: When Kakashi's injured, Iruka reads him his favorite book. Full of not-so-subtle innuendos and cross dressers, with a dash of pirates and ships on the side.
Italics are the conversations between Kakashi and Iruka, by the way.
The authors are not responsible for any pirate lingo which may result from the reading of this fic.
"Good morning!"
"'morning, Iruka. What time is it?"
"Ten on the dot. I traded shifts with one of the other teachers, so you've got me until afternoon classes begin."
"'m not usually up this early."
"I know... which is why I took the liberty of dropping by Team Seven's meeting place to let them know you'd be gone all week, and that they should go train instead of waiting around for you."
"You're no fun, you know that?"
"Oh really? Well in that case, I don't suppose you'll want what I brought you."
"I take it back, I take it all back, you're fun, you're loads of fun."
"That's better. Lift your head up."
"A pillow?"
"From home. I figured with your sense of smell, you'd sleep better with something that didn't smell like hospital."
"It smells like... you."
"Like us."
"You're wonderful."
"I know. You don't deserve me. Shall we continue with the story?"
"Please. I'll feel better knowing someone's going to get laid."
"My lord!" a servant said, jogging up to Lord Snake. Snake was sitting upon his throne of crushed skulls, draped in silk and crushed velvet.
"Yes?" he purred in a voice that was pure evil, with a dash of sex on the side. His long, purplish tongue slid between the sensuous lips.
"My lord, Dolphin has escaped his parents' manor, and he's taken the boy with him."
"Damn you, you incompetent fools," Snake hissed...er, said calmly, as he strangled said incompetent fools. "You've just lost me my map, and a very nice piece of ass, to boot!" With a swish of his black velvet cloak, he stood, towered at his questionable height of five foot something inches.
"Die for your stupidity!" Strangle strangle, strangle. The servants, being well-trained evil servants, gurgled appropriately as they died.
Now, it should be noted that Lord Snake is very high in high society. His balls are events that everyone who's anyone attends, and he's known as the greatest authority on both torture and capital punishment in the entire kingdom. He also carries an uncanny resemblance to a snake. How ironic. But ironic as it is, he's in the complete good graces of the king, who happens to be a near-sighted old pervert. He is also in the good graces of the kingdom's matrons, who all live in perpetual hope he'll marry their offspring. A hope that the recently announced alliance between the de la Mer family and Lord Snake had only slightly dampened.
After all, the matrons were quick to whisper to each other as they sniffed derisively in that way that society matrons all seem to know how to do, the de la Mer family was practically penniless now. Meaning that all they really had to offer the Lord Snake was the luscious Sir Dolphin, who certainly was luscious, they had to agree. Even the old senile king had his eye on the young, agreeable heir. But while that was fine for a bit of crumpet on the side... sniff, sniff, sniff... surely Lord Snake could do better for a MARRIAGE. And thus hope sprung eternal in their cold, calculating little hearts. At any rate...
"Gah," the last servant gurgled before he conveniently fell down dead, and without staining the carpet, either.
"We must track that brat down!" Lord Snake screamed, in a manly and not at all high-pitched manner. "Servants..." And then he remembered he'd killed everyone in the room, and the walls were soundproofed. "Damn...not again…" And so saying, he pulled a string to ring the bell for new servants to come in and get the bodies. And bring in snacks. Killing always gave him the munchies, and he had an absolute passion for raspberries. Maybe with cream? He repressed a delicious little shiver and tapped his sharp, perfect little fingernails on his skull throne. If those servants didn't hurry up, he'd just kill them, too, and find him some new ones.
His tendency to go through servants at this rate being one of the reasons he needed to get his hands on the Fourth's treasure. It was so hard to find good hired help nowadays.
"Servants! Make sure the Royal Navy knows that Sir Dolphin has been... kidnapped... Along with his serving boy."
And so, like all evil overlords, he sat on his throne, munching on raspberries and cream as he listened to the screams of the damned. Occasionally he cackled. Just to keep in practice. It's always good to have the vocal cords warmed and ready for when he needed an evil laugh. After all, you never know when something brilliantly devious will pop into mind.
Like a few seconds later. "Wait a minute... I had almost forgotten my secret identity as an evil pirate! I can hunt the little tart down myself, then go after the treasure!" Cackle cackle. And just to make sure he kept his secret identity a secret, he killed his servants. Again. Then fled down to the Snake Cave, complete with an ominously billowing cloak. Cackle cackle.
Life aboard the dread pirate Scarecrow's ship had settled into a comfortable routine for Dolphin and Fishcake. Well, comfortable except for Dolphin's pants, which still chafed a bit, and Scarecrow's pants, which... you get the idea. The crew was impressed with the change in their captain. He'd never smelled so clean, what with all the cold, cold showers he'd been taking lately. And the crew would know, what with their canine sense of smell.
"So," Scarecrow leered conversationally one day, as he again headed into the kitchen to check on the cooking for the umpteenth time, "how'd a nice guy like you end up on a ship like this?"
"Erm... you took me prisoner?" Dolphin said, a little absentmindedly. He always found Scarecrow's presence distracting. Partially because the dread pirate captain had such a commanding, manly physique, with his smoothly muscled chest and ruffly shirts. Also because, frankly, the kitchen aboard the ship was very small, and when there were two people in it, Dolphin had to be careful not to run into anything.
Now, when there were two full-grown men and a dog, it was nearly impossible. Dolphin turned towards the captain, his arms wrapped around a bag of flour, and, eyes focused somewhere between Scarecrow's special bits and more special bits, tripped over said unseen dog. Wham, bam, thank you... Yes, well, the flour sack flew up out of Dolphin's arms, and down onto Scarecrow's head. And broad, muscled shoulders. And thick, sculpted chest. And on his special bits.
"Wack," Dolphin squeaked, undignified, from somewhere right below Scarecrow's waist. "Wack," he repeated, looking up.
"I'm...white..." Scarecrow said thoughtfully, looking at his hands. Of course, what with him having alabaster and ivory skin, he really didn't look that different, just a bit...dustier.
The crew dog, meanwhile, wisely snuck out of the room. That would certainly be the last time he went begging for scraps.
"I'm sorry," Dolphin said hurriedly, scrambling backwards so when he stood up, his face wouldn't be pressed into that. Scarecrow was a bit disappointed.
"It's fine," the captain waved his hand, "it's fine." Of course, it wasn't quite so fine when Dolphin ripped his shirt off, throwing his hair askew as the fabric came over his head.
"No, no, I'm sorry. Here, I'll clean it up." Dolphin dipped the shirt in a large barrel of water, pulling it up to wring the excess water from it. Scarecrow found a very, very happy place when the lithe muscles in Dolphin's tanned arms moved, pulling and pushing. Perhaps a cold bath was in order?
"Here." Dolphin scooted forward a few inches, which, in the small kitchen, practically put him in Scarecrow's arms. He set the wet shirt against Scarecrow's chest, ineffectively smearing the flour across the ruffly shirt. But now the captain was in a slowly-growing-wet shirt too.
"Umm," Scarecrow started, staring at Dolphin's messy hair, "I don't think that's helping. Maybe I'll just go...take a bath?" Yes, a very cold one.
The dread pirate captain began to take a step backwards, which he wouldn't have done, had he known that the dog was back. Of course, Scarecrow was a bit focused on the rather shirtless man in front of him, and so was completely oblivious of the dog. Wham, bam, and again someone tripped over the dog. Scarecrow reached out, grabbing Dolphin's arms as he fell, and before he knew it, he was lying on his back, a flushed and wet Dolphin lying on top of him and between his legs. Blink.
Blink. Blink.
"Well, this is awkward..."
"Yarr." Because dread pirate captains never admit when they're feeling awkward, even if they're blushing as much as their alabaster skin will allow them to blush. They also don't usually have undignified sneezing fits either.
Sadly for Scarecrow, this was not to be his day on hitherto untold levels, as he suddenly was overtaken by a rash of strong sneezes.
"Oh, we should get you out of those wet clothes!"
"Yaa...arrr...cho!" Which, Dolphin decided, probably meant yes. So Dolphin promptly began ridding Scarecrow of those horrible, horrible wet clothes. Scarecrow, very politely, didn't stop him. In fact, at one or two points he may have helped.
But only at one or two points.
Now, somewhere approximately one hundred miles to the west...
"Tell us the story again, Captain Guy!"
"In the springtime of my youth, there was virtuous and youthful prince, named--"
"Oh, but Captain Guy, you're still in the springtime of your youth." His cabin boy Pebble gazed up at his beloved captain, eyes round with adoration. And we mean round. Artists could have used them instead of compasses, that's how round and adoring they were. But we digress.
Captain Guy posed proudly, a gleaming silhouette in front of a burning sunset. Much like his burning desire for...well, then. There were sparkles too, but you probably don't want to hear about that. "He was handsome, almost as handsome as me. We grew up together in the palace, spending our youthful vigor on training... er... more training... swordplay and statesmanship and ... things." He smiled at the mention of 'things,' a gleam of white teeth that sent shivers running through his captive, and we mean captive, audience.
"He adored me, so of course it came as no surprise when our fathers decided to have us betrothed. My family had the money and power to help protect the throne, and of course, I came with it. But such was his virtue that even after the announcement, he would not even allow me to kiss him until we were wed." At this point, he changed poses.
"Ah, what a virtuous youth he was! But alas, it was not meant to be." And the pose changed again, this time to a sorrowful one, complete with slumped shoulders and clasped hands.
"For soon before the wedding, he traveled far away... something about having his hair done... And his ship never returned."
The audience gasped in as much astonishment as they could muster, having heard the story a few dozen times by now. His faithful cabin boy did the story justice by bursting into tears. "Oh, how brave you are to continue after such suffering!"
"Pebble!" Captain Guy clutched his cabin boy, weeping manly tears. "So now you (again) see why we must track down the dread pirate Scarecrow! For besides being a pirate, and thus by definition a bad guy, I suspect him of having something to do with my beloved's disappearance!"
"Oh, my prince -----!" Cling cling. Weep. Pose. Gleam. Sparkle.
AN: We're back. We're alive. No, we haven't forgotten. We've just been...a little distracted. But it's here! And just in time for Christmas, so Happy Holidays to all of you, from both of us.
Thanks to Meleth78 for the pillow reference. Thanks to our reviewers. You make writing a joy.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Diwali! Happy Bodhi Day! Happy Kwanza! Happy Celebrations for Everyone!