AN: Shady government agencies are shady and do not care what you're doing – working, off the clock, supposed to work, vacationing – if they decide to take you.

Disclaimer: Bonesboy15 doesn't own Helluva Boss or Naruto. The following is a written work of fan-fiction. It contains adult language and situations. Reader discretion is advised.

One Knuckleheaded Glutton

The One With A Bunch Of Dorks

Emissive white voids snapped open at the sound of squealing tires. Naruto growled and glared at the blood on his hand. He'd tagged the two tailing them the second they left the boardwalk and got to the parking lot. He'd figured they'd wait until it got darker out before they tried something, so he could lead them on a merry chase for a laugh, but sure, yeah, okay, use the cover of daylight to get away. That makes total fucking sense. Fucking amateurs, he saw their fucking blacked out utility van drive away.

"If Loona doesn't kill you fuckers before I find you..." he growled to no one in particular as he got back to his feet. He walked in the direction the assailants had droven off in. A concerned civilian came over and tried to offer him help, get him to a hospital. Nice enough guy, weird pineapple-looking head though, hard too, took the punch like a champ. Reminded him of Shikamaru. Descendant? Possibly. Not important.

He sniffed the air. Gunpowder, cheap hand sanitizer, desperation, ambition, cheap laundry detergent, Loona...and funnel cakes. The fucking funnel cakes. With a snarl that could have echoed across the state, the Duke of Gluttony pulled his Hellphone out and dialed a number.

"Russ, it's me. I'm cashing in on a favor. I need a Gate. ...A disguised Hellhound was snagged by what I believe to be a human organization in front of me. ...Small arms, disguises, access to vehicles on call. ...Small time, either minor government on the world stage or just an underfunded department. ...Probably, we are in North America. ...Southeast. ...Give your brothers my thanks in advance."

No sooner than after he hung up did the ground crack as a Hellish construct, unseen by mortal eyes, rose from the ground. A thick cloud of sulfur filled the air as it settled into reality. It was a massive gate, easily three stories high, with a series of warnings written in some ancient long-dead language settled around the lock, which was nothing more than an open circle one could see through. If any mortals witnessed the sight, they would forget it happened, lest they be driven to madness. The Lost Era, God's First Draft, of the Underworld didn't allow witnesses without special permissions. He had such permissions thanks in part to the word of the missing Queen of Hell.

Naruto dismissed his human guise and tapped into the power deep within. His ocelli burned through the patch of skin on his forehead, and his jaw split into fiercely strong mandibles. He held his left hand up and watched the fur from his fingertips to his elbow harden into a black chiton-like substance. Red ethereal chains started to pierce through cracks in the armor and wound around his arm, exactly as his human guise's tattoos rested on the skin. His mandibles clacked together before he pulled his hand back and plunged it into and through the lock. He roared as the abyssal forces of the Hell Gate pierced the hardened fur and coursed through his body.

Otherworldly forces clouded the sky – if one could be bothered to notice that when a literal monster fish started to attack a concert that a lot of people were mysteriously dying at while also getting really horny – and a windless, rainless storm of lightning flashed overhead. Naruto ignored it and shrieked, his mandibles spread wide with his cry as his fur continued to harden across his body and more chains burst from the cracks along it as he grew to his current maximum of twenty feet. By the end of the partial metamorphosis to his True Form, nine stray strands of chain waved ominously around him; two thick linked lengths hovered over a shoulder each, three spiked strands rose above his waist and tail, and one more apiece dangled by his digitigrade ankles.

All of this was done so he could survive the process of entering through the Gates of Hell, to pass through the forgotten and avoided corridors that even Lucifer himself knew nothing of. It was a last resort for most upper demons, given their own House Seals could do the same thing, but better. For Naruto, however, it was a method to avoid tipping Bee off, as she could see whenever he used the seal of their house to go from place to place. The last thing Hell needed was the Daemonic Prince of Sin on a Binge, while the Duke of Gluttony went on a warpath.

Finally, his resolve pushed through and the lock clicked open. He pulled his left arm out – the chitin armor gone and the skin that once rested beneath was blistered, boiled and cooked – and snarled as stepped through the crackling mists of Nothingness.

"Well, that's interesting." Magenta lips pulled up into a smirk and sunglasses were adjusted. "What are you up to, little Legion of Chaos?"

Blood dripped from his eyes, mouth, nose and ears as he reigned the rebellious demonic power claimed as his own in.

Can't do that again for a while. Naruto thought as his muzzle fused back together. He tore his shirt off and wound it around his slowly healing arm. He strode into the bowels of Hell, the corners left unprotected, and the gate behind him disappeared. The Vibes were not good, but they were not bad. They were just...just. They fueled him all the same, and sped his healing.

"Well, well, well." A deep rumble came from a pocket of light in the distance. "Look who it is. You've grown bigger."

"Has he?" A sneered cackle followed. "Hard to tell, he was always a little ant."

"'Ey, 'Ruto! What took you so long?" The last voice was more jovial.

Naruto grinned as he came out of the vast abyss into a cavern of existence where the legendary three-headed security guard stood. Easily three times his True Form's height, the stature of Hell's Guardian was as intimidating naturally as it was impressive. The fur was a deep earthy brown and they dressed in military fatigues, sans the tunic, that strained against their chest. A large chain around the three necks held a pair of tags beside a badge-like pendant with the large roman numeral for 'one' carved into it. At his hip was a xiphos, held by a belt that bore the symbol for Omega at the clip.

"Wassup, Lil' Brudda!" The rightmost head that resembled a black labrador grinned, the aviator sunglasses over his green eyes were lifted up by the right hand and set atop his brows. The same hand gestured to a small campfire beside a large fold out chair. A cooler rested by it. "Come on over, and spill the tea – that's the saying, right? How's Bee doin? Still a sexy bee-yotch?"

"Still an ungrateful, unapologetic whore?" The left-most head, which resembled a green-eyed Boxer, groused. The left fist clenched and unclenched around an opened bottle of Beelzejuice that had an old label on it. Like, at least two-hundred years old.

"Enough! Both of you." The central head, which looked like a one-eyed, scarred Belgian Malinois, growled at both of the others, before he glared his one green eye down at Naruto. "We're here for business, not to talk about our ex."

"You never want to talk about our ex, Herb." The Boxer growled.

"Because the split was mutual, Cerb." The scarred central head, Herb, deadpanned.

"I didn't agree–!"

"Broh-my-gods, you said you didn't fucking care, dude!" The Labrador shook his head.

"And you two just accepted it?! I thought you fuckin' liked her, too, Russ–"

"I said enough!" Herb's bark silenced the other two. He glared at Naruto. "You let a Hellhound get snatched under your watch? Getting sloppy?"

"Probably. I haven't been able to properly train in...two, three years?" Naruto admitted after thinking about it. Bee had always managed to keep him busy and he'd always postponed training – real training – in deference to that of his untapped power. The last thing he did that even resembled proper combat was his and Loona's date in Gluttony. He shrugged. "Been busy with other projects – but I'm not here to get criticized."

"Tough shit." Cerb and Herb snorted. The bottle-holding hand pointed at him. "You're overdue for assessment."

Well, this may have been a mistake. Naruto gulped. He was not excited by the prospect of sparring against one of – if not the – oldest inhabitants of Hell. ...Okay, maybe a little excited, but he couldn't afford to right now.

"Nah, c'mon, bros. He's used a favor." Thank you, Russ, for your stupid ass random moments of clarity. He grinned and it looked friendly, but Naruto knew it wasn't. "That means that this Hellhound means something to our boi!"

"Oh, debasing yourself like your sister? Seeking quantity over quality?" Cerb sneered. Naruto rolled his eyes and ignored the bitter Vibes he radiated. Cerb never got along with anyone, almost purposefully.

"Dude, uncool." Russ scolded. "Herb, you gonna say an–"

"Both of you, shut the fuck up." Herb snarled. The twin heads quieted again, and Herb held Naruto's gaze. "...Who is she?"

"Her name's Loona. Works for an Imp-run assassin group, trying to get her to branch out. Decent in magic, Goetia magic."

"Hm...Do you love her?"

"As much as I love any of my friends."

"Do you love her?" Herb reiterated, nostrils flared. At that, Naruto shrugged. That was an emotion he was sad to say he had a vague grasp on. The central head hummed and the ancient guardian's arms crossed. "You care about her."

"Yes."

"Willing to use a Favor for her."

"Duh."

"...And you don't know?"

"Does it matter?" Naruto argued around a growl. "Look, I don't think she's in serious danger, but humans–"

"Are unpredictable. And government agencies are worse, I know." The central head nodded and their right hand traced over the scar that claimed his sight in the adjacent eye. Herb huffed and glanced at his brothers – Russ nodded with a grin while Cerb scoffed and took a swig from the bottle – before he stared down at Naruto again. "What do you plan to do?"

Blue eyes blazed a furious white and a hungry grin spread across his face.

"I'm going to find out where these crashers like to hide...and set up a party."

Cerberus smiled across three faces, and his eerie green eyes shone bright.

"Alright. We're in."

"Cool, I just have to do one thing first."

"They're late." Tex frowned at his watch. He scowled and looked at the gathering crowd. "I knew this was a bad id–"

"Yo! Vore-Tex!" Well, consider him damned. The fucking jerkoff and Loona actually made it back. They both came to a stop, chests heaving slightly as if they'd run far. He simpathized, human disguise limitations sucked. "Sorry about the late return, someone got shot at the boardwalk. Had to take a long way around to avoid cops."

"...Why?" Tex frowned. They'd only been on the surface for three hours–?

"Fuck the police." Loona deadpanned. ...Alright, that checked out. She looked at her phone and nodded to the stage manager. "I'm watching them."

O-kay, Tex could work with that. He looked at Naru-Lzebub, who seemed to don a professional face.

"Alright, give me twenty bodies, I want ten on the perimeter, four flanking me at the stage, two in the back, and the last with you backstage with her."

"Got it, Vore-Tex."

"And don't call me that while we're on the job."

"No promises."

"That's the 'Supernatural'?" Agent Six hummed and tilted his head. "...I dunno, she just looks like a regular goth girl to me."

"That 'regular goth girl' broke a prospect agent's face and threw him five feet from a seated position. With one hand. All while she remained seated." That didn't seem to impress anyone in the room, so Agent One sighed. "...She also finished off an entire Diabetes Inducer by herself."

Soft muttering filled the room. That was a strong argument on its own. Add in the prospect of assault...

"Still, I mean, isn't this kind of against our orders from To–?"

"Shut up, Agent Three! We're definitely not supposed to say names while at work! Especially not his!"

"All of you, shut up! Agent Five, if you, Three and Six can't stomach an interrogation, go join Agent Four in arranging the cover story. Two, with me."

Red eyes blinked as coherency came back to her. A flickering fluorescent light did little to illuminate the dark room she was in. Okay, so her enhanced sight, as per fucking usual, was useless. The air was stale and tinged with dried bleach. Three, four days old, maybe? Some mold was growing in the pipes to her left.

"You're awake. Good."

Ah, the dead walk and speak. Neat trick. Now all they had to do was walk into her line of sight.

"You have five seconds." Loona mumbled as she scanned the room for a visual. She strained against the ropes around her arms – tight, well tied. Not straw or hemp. Smelled metallic. Didn't help that her arms felt like limp noodles – before she sneered. "Five."

"Don't even try it, girlie. That rope there is made out of carbon fiber," the speaker – sounded male, somewhere in their twenties or thirties; oddly familiar – said. Ugh, what? Carbon fiber? That was a pain in the ass, who the fuck had carbon fiber rope on hand? "We do."

"Still say it was the best use of a month's funds." Oh, another speaker. Cool. Two corpses were in the room with her. This one was a female, the same age as the male, and also sounded familiar. Odd. "And totally worth the experiment in min-maxing snack time."

"I dunno, Two, Agent Nine almost didn't make it."

"Eh, she got away from Seven, didn't she?"

"As fucking enthralling as your banter is, can we get to the point of why the fuck I'm here, tied up, and–" Oh, hey, yeah. She just remembered something that pissed her off. Her lip curled and her magically concealed hackles rose. "Why the fuck you shot my boyfriend?!"

"...Civilian casualties, One."

"Fuck you, Two."

"Never again."

Finally, they stepped into her line of sight. Oh, great. Fucking perfect. Men In Black wannabes. Ugh, why? Why did this shit happen to Loona? ...She blamed Blitzø, that seemed like a perfect idea at the moment. The male of the two dragged a chair – ow, fuck, ow, loud, ow, fuck you, dickbag! You're dying neutered! – over and sat down in it, arms crossed on the back.

"What. Are. You."

"Pissed off." Loona deadpanned.

Agent Dipstick huffed around a smirk and nodded. The bitch moved forward an – Fuck! Cattle prod! That's a fucking cattle prod! What the shit?! Loona didn't give them the satisfaction of screaming and held tight to her grasp on her disguise. Upside to magical Goetia disguise, it only turned off when she wanted it to. Downside, they lacked a few defenses to help better blend in, i.e., some scrapes that wouldn't do anything to a Hellborn would leave a mark on the human disguise.

"What. Are. You."

"Second verse, same as the first, motherfucker!" Loona bit down on her cheek at another jab from the prod. Shit, that thing fucking hurt. She was ramming that fucking thing into this bitch's throat!

"We know you're not human, you can ditch the cover." Agent Dickless-to-Be offered. Loona huffed and glared at him.

"...The fuck kind of bass-ackwards logic...?"

"You broke a man's face slamming him into a table – not just his nose, his face." Agent Cattle Prod rolled her thumb along the knob of the handle. "Then tossed him a few feet behind you. While seated."

...Shit, could humans not do that?

"So, unless you're high on some kind of hormone-boosting PCP – and you're not, we did the bloodwork. Which, by the way, came up only seven percent human." Huh, Loona had human DNA? ...Well, maybe from eating something or the magic disguise... Oh, wait, Agent Dickless-to-Be was still talking. "– You're not fooling us. I won't ask again, drop the disguise and tell us what you are."

"Oh, this is asking?" Loona sneered. "Sorry. I'm used to hearing fucking 'please' and 'thank you'."

"...True, we could have started by asking nicely."

"That window kind of closed when you fuckers shot my boyfriend." Loona growled. Agents Dickless-to-Be and Cattle Prod started to grin. What?

"Does he know you're not human?"

"...You dumb motherfuckers still haven't fucking proven I'm not." Ah, cattle prod. How Loona didn't miss you at all in her gut. Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream – ha! Fuck you, torture weapon, you weak ass bitch. She panted and doubled over, eyes clenched shut. She tested the rope – still tight, dammit. These repetitive shocks were making it hard to feel her arms. – and then spat to the side as she rolled her head back. "Fuck! Christ...That's the best you got?"

"Well, she knows biblical references. Not an alien." Cattle Prod hummed.

"Unless she was raised among us." Dickless-to-Be pointed out. He smirked at her and Loona sneered back. "Won't you please tell us what you are?"

"Oh, why didn't you just fucking ask. Sure, you wanna know what I am. C'mere. I'll whisper it to you so you can lord it over your coworker." Loona smirked. There was no way this idiot was that fucking stu – He is that fucking stupid! Holy shit, this planet was fucked with humans like this in positions of power! ...Ah, well, waste not an opportunity. "What I am...is fucking hungry."

She bit down on his ear and tugged. Hard.

"Fuck! You bitch!" He screamed as he flung himself away and covered the bloody remains where his ear had been. Loona smirked and spat the organ to the ground in front of Cattle Prod. She grinned, all teeth, at the shocked agent.

"Too gamey. Hey, you. C'mere, maybe I'll like the dark meat more."

Fuck! That was her neck! There was no stopping the scream that time. One second...two...four...eight...Ugh, fucking Satan's mercies that shit hurt! Well, plus side, by the end of today, Loona was going to have a high tolerance for electric shocks.

...That could be kinky. She chuckled around her wheezes. Agent One-Eared scrambled to his feet and pulled a knife out from his jacket with his non-bloodied hand.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you! You bitch, I'll fucking kill you–!"

"No, One! Do not make me knock your ass out! C'mon, we're going to Medic –" Cattle Prod dropped her weapon on Loona's leg – While it sparked! The bitch! – and led One-Eared Dickless-to-Be. "I know, but we need her alive to increase our funding!"

"Fuck...We'll be back, bitch."

"Fuckin' make me wait for a good time." Loona sneered at their backs. The door slammed shut and she let her head hang. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out a whine. "...Fuck. Fuck, that hurt. Stupid, fucking weak ass human body."

Another beat passed as she caught her breath and then tested her bindings. Looser? ...from the convulsions! Her strength wasn't limited in disguise, so when she was getting shocked...Loona looked down at the discarded cattle prod as the gears turned in her head. Her eyes squeezed shut again.

"Fuck me." Loona whimpered and kicked the prod up to her lap. She carefully angled it up to grab with her mouth, and used its length and her thighs to turn it around. She put her teeth on the trigger button and aimed the end at her exposed leg. This is going to fucking suck.

"Well, did you salvage the ear?" Medic asked Two as he helped her get One on a gurney. "It was only recently done, so I could salvage it."

"Uh, fuck no? She spat it on the ground."

"...Alright, some remedial stitching, then! Sorry, One, but hey, at least your codename will make sense."

"It made sense before that stupid bitch ripped my ear off, you jackass!" One snapped before he reached up to hold his head. "Fuck...Oh, shit, I hope she's not a vampire or something."

"A daywalker? ...Well, there was that one case back in the nineties..." Two muttered, thumb on her chin.

"Theorize later." Medic ordered as he started strapping One down. He offered a wooden spool with leather wrapped on it. "Bite this."

"...What about the numbing agent?!"

"You used that up on the cocktail vanilla funnel cake batter to knock last week's non-Supernatural out."

"For the last time," Two said through gritted teeth. "The man had four! Arms!"

"Forearms, yes, most people have those. One, really. Bite." Medic deadpanned. One glared at him with murderous intent but complied. Medic nodded and grabbed a sterile needle, gauze and alcohol. He looked at Two. "You may want to step out. This is going to get loud."

"Right." Two huffed with a nod. She walked out of Medic's office and pulled the door shut with her. She leaned on the wall and waited. Agents on other assignments passed by, hushed in conversation. Two watched her coworkers pass, kept an eye out for familiar faces and possible debriefs – Whoa, no way.

"Agent Eleven!" She walked over to the teal-eyed blonde woman that came out of a nearby office with a smile on her face. Eleven had been on a deep reconnaissance mission outside of the Catholic Church in Rome – her team was looking for Nessie, who'd gone missing from Loch Ness about three months ago, and they were pretty sure the Church had a hand in it – for the past month. Eleven stopped and looked up to see her. She blinked and then smiled...A chill went up Two's spine. Something wasn't–

"I never imagined someone might recognize Ino's face. Interesting."

The hallway went dark, it was just Two and Eleven. Whoa, when did Eleven get in her face? An–Wow, that's a tight grip. Very tight! Too tight! Too tight! She had to make her stop before...before...

"I'll skip the platitudes. Where is the girl?"

"El-Eleven! It's...It's me! It's Two!" She rasped around the grasp that – christ, was Eleven lifting weights or something? She was holding Two up effort...less...Oh, shit. "...You're not...Eleven…"

"And the circle gets the square. Proud of you." Not-Eleven's – unpleasant, unnatural, wrong, wrong, wrong – smile grew wide enough for the skin on her face to tear. "Now, I won't ask again: Where is the girl?"

Two grabbed the wrist of the shapeshifter holding her and swung her legs up. A double kick to the face ought to...Do nothing? Oh. Oh, fuck.

This wasn't some run of the mill shapeshifter.

"...That was a very, very poor decision. I'm so disappointed, you've been doing so well."

Two whimpered and gagged as the hand tightened around her neck. Then, the worst happened. No, she didn't die, that would have been preferred. No, a very unfortunate outcome happened and if anyone had witnessed it, her reputation would never recover.

She moaned.

"Rotting Zombie Christ." Not-Eleven blinked. Her grip loosened. "That's some kinky shit, right there."

Chance!

Two reached down to her belt and pulled out her butterfly knife. The blade was stabbed into Not-Eleven's wrist, right where the artery would be, and blood spurted onto their faces. Not-Eleven didn't react other than to open her hand in reflex – nerves emulated human mapping, good to know – and Two dropped to the ground and scooted back.

"In–Fuck!" Two hacked and wheezed. She tried to force a warning, a shout, anything out of her mouth. When that continued to fail, she dug around in her pocket and tossed down a smoke bomb. Two scrambled to her feet and fled, bursting back into Medic's office. "Med...dick?"

It was empty. Medic. One. They were gone.

"Oh...a good call, I'm surprised again. When outmatched, seek help. Where quality fails, quantity may succeed."

Two whirled around to face the speaker. Her jaw fell open. Not-Eleven had vanished, and the shot partner of the Supernatural in Interrogation Room B stood in her place. He held his wrist up and pulled the butterfly knife from his wrist. The blood-flow didn't appear to bother him.

"Now, normally...I just punch bitches and consider it done...But...Something tells me if I do that, you wouldn't learn." The young man grinned. His face started to shift, a very canid appearance overtook him. Fuck, what the fuck, was this a-a Kitsu-ne? Weren't those horny spirits? Maybe she could seduce – That was not a fox. Orange, yes, but not a Japanese fox spirit. That's like a fucking hyena-werewolf thing. He was so...so...Two drooled.

"Fluffy."

"...Rude." The Hyena-Werewolf frowned and crossed his arms, big strong and meant to hug so delightfully tight. "Here I am, trying to intimidate you with Grade-A psychological torment – which is not easy to do when it's not a fucking specialty, by the way – and you're getting...horny? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Hey, nothing's wrong with me, you bigoted asshole! What I enjoy in the comforts of my own mind and home are no one's business but mine!" Two snapped. Huh, her voice worked? ...Right, psychological torment, it was a psionic attack. And it wasn't his strongest suit? She smirked and put two fingers to either side of her head. "But you're in my mind, huh? I can work with that."

The door down the hall would be barred and the Supernatural in that room would be kept for further experimentation. A thick series of chains would crawl from the ground and ensnare her current Supernatural foe. A barrier would surround her and protect her from all harm. All of the finest, strongest, and sexiest members of the Armed forces would surround the Supernatural with all sorts of weapons aimed at his body. They would take the fuzzy-wuzzy wolf-man away and she'd get to interrogate and cuddled him and love him and call him Jake–

"...Uh, Two, what are you doing?" Medic asked.

"Building up my mental defenses."

"Why?"

Ugh, doesn't this idiot see–? Two blinked. The lights were on, Medic and One were there – granted, One was understandably knocked out – and there was a significant absence of anthropomorphic animal-man in the room. She lowered her hands and frowned.

"What the fuck? Hey, is there a gas leak anywhere?"

"No?" Medic arched a brow and looked at the blunt in his hand. "At least, I hope not. I was going to have a quick doobie."

"...In here?"

"It's hemp, it's not like it's dangerous."

"Fire, stupid."

"...Right, so I was going to go outside and smoke."

"Checks–"

An alarm started going off and Two frowned. What was–Wait, there was the P.A.

"It's killing us! It's killing us with a cattle prod–Oh, god! Save me, Jeebus!"

"Where the fuck did those fuckers go!? I want my cut of meat!"

Ah. The Supernatural girl they'd captured got out.

...Shit, the Supernatural girl they'd captured got out.

"Whelp, that's a lockdown for me." Medic hummed and slammed his fist into a red button. The door sealed and metal sheets dropped down around the room. He lit his blunt and took a drag. His voice tight, he held it out. "You want a hit of this? 'S good shit. Got it from some demon dude at the beach earlier."

"...Demon dude?" Two asked as she took the offered blunt. What? She was locked in the med bay, she wasn't going anywhere. Might as well do as Romans do.

"Yeah. One of those Veronica Mayday fanboys that take her succubus gimmick too serious. Dressed up like a little red imp with big horns. Great suit though."

More screams and snarls came over the P.A.

"Come out, come out, bitches! Don't you wanna know what I am!?"

"Oh, god, please no! I have a fami–AAAUUGH!"

"She's in the security office! Stop her, we need to keep these ta–AAAUGH!"

"Oh, is this shit important?! Well, let's fuckin' wreck it then!"

"No, wait, please, my Galaga save is on th–AAAUGGH!"

Whelp, they needed a new Agent Six, Five, and Three – there was a faint boom and a fainter, muffled "Fuck! Ow!" – ...and a new security system. Preferably one with a remote backup.

"Shame that the investigation never turned up anything."

"Bet her blowing half of congress had something to do with it getting shit-canned."

"Oh, that's just something the Media made up to make ratings week spicy." Two scoffed. As if any self-respecting pop star would willingly give head to a bunch of old rich fucks for potential immunity down the line.

Loona snarled from where she was cornered by a group of armed humans, one of which had some kind of sound-based weapon that kept throwing her off balance. She'd long since dropped her disguise, too really irritated to bother remembering why she needed to focus on it – especially after she wrecked the security room – and went to town on the scrawny agents that were woefully unprepared for her assault. That all came to a head five minutes ago when the Sonic Sonovabitch blindsided her.

Electricity, sure, Hellhounds could tank a lot of it – her more so now than before – but sounds? Talk about a weak ass kryptonite. She curled her lip and growled at the four dipshits that slowly approached her.

"Come quietly, werewolf-chan. We just want to... examine you." Sunglasses were not meant to gleam like that. And the sniggering from two of the assholes on the right was downright fucked up. Loona growled and crouched down, prepared to jump and brandished her claws. The same speaker grinned. "Oh, I love it when they fight back."

"...Goddammit."

The sudden curse had Loona and her assailants look around. The lights in the room exploded before a familiar seal on the ground replaced the destroyed illumination. It reappeared on the ceiling, and then the walls. She relaxed as the voice that swore spoke again, she recognized it easily and the seal only confirmed it.

Though, she wondered why her boyfriend sounded so resigned with his next words.

"You're gonna love me."

"...Did the disembodied voice just quote The Dark Kni–AAAIIIIIEEE?" A crimson chain ruptured through the agent's chest, splattered their fellows with their blood.

"What the fuck!?" That was a lot of blood that just exploded out from the crushed remains of that human.

"We-we got a Spawn! Fuck, I didn't sign up to get offed by some Keith David wannabe!" Who the fuck was–? Ew, that's a visceral way to get de-limbed. And a bit much, like, too much? ...Wait, Loona just remembered how Naruto dealt with some of the Grey Stags on their date.

All that remained was the Sound-blaster. He kept his weapon aimed at Loona.

"Where is it? I know you know where it is! Where is it!"

Loona blinked and tilted her head as she straightened up and relaxed against the wall. She smirked and crossed her arms. She watched Naruto emerge from the shadows of the dangling limbs and corpse to stand behind the one pointing the weapon at her. He met her gaze, looked down at the trembling last human, and looked back up. He gestured at the human, then her. What was–?

Oh, he's offering me the last kill. Sweet, but unnecessary. Loona waved him off. He could wrap this up, she was tired and wanted a smoke and a Boop and maybe another Funnel Cake.

"Where is he!?"

"Why are you shouting?" Naruto asked dryly. The agent whirled around and was immediately disarmed. Literally. The Foxfiend grabbed the Agent's head and twisted it a hundred and eighty degrees around. Then, a claw poked the back of the head and the body dropped.

Loona sighed as he came over and took her up in a hug, which she returned with her tail wagging on full blast. Deep sniffs parted her fur as he checked her for injuries.

"You okay? Your coat smells...off."

"Cattle Prod. Might be some light burns and nerve damage."

"...These fuckers are getting off too lucky. ...We'll get you checked out back home. No hospital." Ah, good, he learned. He went back to scenting her for other injuries that may exist under the blood on her coat while she did the same. The arm he was shot in had a faint hint of gunpowder, but otherwise seems fine. His other arm, on the other hand, smelt off.

"...Why do you smell like cooked meat?" She asked. Did he stop and get food or something? No, there was an absence of the greasy tang that accompanied food.

"Long story, called in a favor to get back down below and back to make clones without tipping Tex off." That didn't really answer her question, but anything else she was going to say was cut off as his Rumble started and he tilted her chin up to meet him. Ahh, blissful Boop – Oh, a kiss? Yes, please.

Loona moaned into his mouth and let her tail go nuts.

"Mwah." She panted as the kiss broke all too soon. His claws raked up and down her back and he scented into her hair. She hummed and scented his neck. Violet and coconut, along with a hint of deep Earth...No, that was Underworld and sulfur? Huh, whatever route he used to get here was different than anywhere she'd been. Still, that begs the question: "You couldn't get here sooner?"

"I knew you could handle yourself." Which, yeah, she could, but to a point. "Had to first make sure Tex had his clones, then find your scent again, then set some party favors around the place so these chucklefucks would learn from the mistake." Party favors? She stared at him, hoping he'd elaborate. He did: "Bombs, I set bombs."

"...You've got a thing for explosions." It was a little concerning.

"Got a thing for you, too." The rumble that accompanied those words made her feel warm all over. His right hand grazed her spot slightly and while Loona liked the sound of some more heavy petting, she'd rather he pick up on her unasked question. She kept staring up into his eyes, and silently implored. ...Nope, okay. She'd let this one slide.

"Cute. Why do you have a thing for explosions?"

"Well, when you've grown up making them–"

"I take it that I'll get a story about that."

"Yeah, I think you've earned it." He kissed the top of her head and walked her to a portal that opened on a nearby wall. "C'mon, let's go check in on the clones before we head home."

AN: And so enters the D.H.O.R.K.S. Will we see them again? God, I fucking hope so.

Anyway, tune in next time...Hm? What do you mean 'interference'? ...It's written text, there can't be interference! Ugh, I'll come check it out ...Alright, let me see it, Steve. No, see, everything's fine, you're just imagining th– Wait, what's–?

As the two Hellhounds walked out of the underground facility, a lone camera in the far corner blinked with a red light. It followed their exit and watched the portal close before it died with the rest of its brethren.

The signal cut, but the footage had been captured and watched. There was no sound, but sound was not needed by the observer. An ancient figure, with long white hair that brushed over the ground, and skin that sagged over the eyes. The ancient figure stared at the screen and slowly smiled. The smile grew wide, and the wrinkled features smoothed. A light emerged in the eyes of the watcher as the wrinkled elderly once more became young.

"At last...I finally found you, after all these years...I can't wait to see you again."

The smile split the face wide as one eye shone and focused on the Foxfiend within. Long dark locks were brushed back as dark, feathered wings flung open.

"It's been too long, Naruto."

AN: ...Uh, are we back? ...Good! Um, er...where was I? ...Right, right.

Remember! I-it's just fucking Fan-Fiction...

...Okay, Steve, what fuck was that?!