Tinge of Something

For once, Kisame noticed something first. Perhaps it was because Itachi was half asleep standing up (or so Kisame suspected because his partner had jumped an alarming distance when Kisame had pointed out the bird), but in any case he was awake now. Very awake.

"Don't break it please," begged Kisame as he watched the intense glare aimed at the little clay pigeon and his partner's grip tighten as though to choke it. Instead, Itachi ripped the message off its foot with more force than necessary, muttering obscenities all the while.

"The hell kind of hour is this to be getting freaking messages?" He unfurled the paper violently. Kisame leaned over his fuming partner's shoulder.

Greetings Kisame and Itachi-san

This is leader. I'm assuming you've made it to your destination in one piece and have not yet abandoned each other. Tonight you will stay here as this is… YOUR FINAL DESTINATION! Exciting, no? I have already gotten accommodations for you at the small inn on the second to last street, last building. Another bird will be arriving at 3 in the morning-

"THE HELL!?"

- exactly, and you are to receive it at the front gate and return to your room. As always, you must obey all orders exactly or face the consequences. You have five.

Leader

"Five what?" snapped Itachi, attempting to find an answer by crumpling the paper. He narrowed his eyes, squeezing the bird venomously. Kisame swallowed.

"Can I, can I see that?" he asked meekly.

"See what?" Itachi snapped. "Oh…Yeah," he shoved the wadded paper in Kisame's hand. Kisame rotated the paper, looking at it from all angles in case some clue revealed itself. When nothing happened, he reread the note.

Five… five… five… "Hey…" he looked at Itachi's back, "Itachi-san… how much time do you think has passed since we got this note?" Itachi turned, exasperated.

"Oh, I don't know… four… four to five minutes." –BAM- The clay bird exploded in Itachi's hand. "DAMMIT!"

"Reservations? Alright, sir...what name is it under?"

"Name? Name…" Kisame growled it the second time. Leader always forgot some essential detail. He was beginning to suspect that he did it on purpose. Itachi glared, hand resting in the front of his robes. Why was Kisame so indiscreet? It was so inconvenient. And why did leader want them to fail? Curse leader and his selective memory, curse Deidara's damned bird, and, hell, why not just curse leader? In general.

"Our associate forgot to tell us what name it would be under…" he said stepping forward, a signal to Kisame that he was now in charge of talking. Kisame stepped back.

"Well, is there a way you can contact him?" asked the man behind the counter.

"Not soon enough for our purposes."

"Well can you make a guess, I mean it's bound to be one of your names."

"Our associate is, um, how should I say this, a bit quirky, if you follow. It will be something obscure…" The hand under the counter methodically moved its fingers as if passing a kunai between them. This was quite a gamble. "Something that would stand out as strange but that we'd never think of."

"Oh! Might it be under the name "Five"?" Itachi's fingers stopped. His other hand clenched, fresh scrapes from clay splinters stretching.

"Why, yes, yes it might."

"Excellent! Right this way please."

Thank god for idiots.

The door to their tiny room closed, leaving them alone. Itachi waited until the footsteps were no longer audible and then kicked the bed with all the force he could muster at eleven at night. Kisame thought it wise to remain silent.

"Typical… He would make us share a room." Itachi addressed the ceiling as if leader might be there at the very moment, heckling at them.

"It could be worse," offered Kisame, slowly inching away from the vexed Uchiha.

"Damn right it could," he kneed the nightstand with considerably less vehemence, in an attempt to jar the lamp so it would shed more light in the dark room. Instead it dimmed. He glared. "It could be raining." Kisame relaxed a bit. It seemed as though his partner's wrath was passing. They were both tired, for the moment safe, and had survived day one of the mission. He sat on the bed, which protested under his weight with a creak, and slipped off his shoes.

"Aah…" he sighed, carefully watching his little partner's back. Itachi was looking out the window struggling to control rapid onslaughts of shivers. He was dreading this. How in the world was he going to sleep with Kisame? What if some uncontrollable urge caused him to… do something rash? There were several such urges passing through his mind now and he wasn't even looking at Kisame. He could suppress them now, but he seriously doubted if he could when he was lying next to him. He groaned. "Something wrong?" yawned his partner. Itachi turned against his better judgment. All nervousness was lost to curiousness and incredulous surprise.

"You sleep with that?" Kisame had laid Samehada on the bed on his half and was unbuttoning his robes.

"You mean my sword?"

"Well obviously."

"Of course I do! What if we were ambushed?"

"Ambushed?"

"Yeah, or something happened… I just always have it with me… in case." Itachi made the most sophisticated scoffing noise possible.

"Well I'm not going to sleep with that thing."

"Where are you going to sleep then?" Kisame did not want this. He was too tired to survive a spat with the fiery little creature.

"On the floor if I have to."

"Why do you have to be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like…" my mother. Itachi raised his eyebrows, something he often did before he killed someone. "Look: you're tired. I'm tired. Can't we just go to bed and deal with this in the morning?" Itachi calmed slightly, succumbing to his obvious weariness. "Come here, let me see your hand." Itachi kneeled on the bed (which barely bent under his weight) and tentatively let Kisame take the scratched hand. He felt his stomach flop as Kisame examined it with a startlingly gentle touch. His hands were rough and cold, almost clammy. Itachi wanted to twist his fingers in between the cool blue ones so badly he had to bite his tongue and use pain to drive away the inclination. "It will be okay in a couple days it looks like. Less if we can find some healing salve." Kisame released his partner's hand. Itachi looked at his hand in a state of shock. Kisame noticed his lack of movement and found himself staring at Itachi. He realized, for the first time, his partner was kind of, well, attractive, cute right now because he was pouting, but potentially handsome. To a girl of course, Kisame amended. He carefully propped Samehada against the wall and lay on his back, getting halfway under the blankets. He resumed studying the still motionless Itachi. "Hey little partner," he received a glare, "Put your hair down."

"What?"

"Put your hair down."

"Why?"

"I don't know… I've just never seen it down." Itachi reluctantly undid the tie and let the dark hair fall to caress his defensively hunched shoulders. "I like it," Kisame said smiling. Itachi cringed and muttered something about it getting in the way. "Aren't you going to take off your robe?" This earned the irritated down-the-nose look.

"Do I look like a stripper to you?"

"Actually, yes, sort of… In a good way!" This did not save him from a well-aimed pillow. There was a sharp knock on the wall.

"Keep it down in there!" came a harsh voice. A kunai whizzed over Kisame's nose twisting complicatedly to smack the wall with the hilt.

"You keep it down, lovebird!" Itachi shouted back. "I can hear you kissing something and I hope it's not yourself. Dead man," he murmured the last bit before whacking the nightstand and causing the light to go off. Kisame felt an unfamiliar tinge of something
as his partner lay down beside him, warm legs brushing against his own. "Goodnight, Kisame-san."

"Good night"