It was nothing but a trade-off of teeth with this woman; smile for smile, grin for grin. Asuma ran a hand through the newly short hairs at the nape of his neck, still unused to feeling a breeze there, and tried to decide if it was really worth all this effort to get into one woman's pants.

He looked at her, thought about the last time he'd gotten anything.

A few months, give or take. But that was all civilians, half-night dates whenever he'd been able to get a day off from the Daimyo. Ninja were a different playing field.

Three years for that.

Yup, definitely worth it.

"Keep the rumours," he said, mouth curving. "I can make more." He flicked his cigarette back into the cell; maybe it would confuse some hapless Intel agent a few months down the line. "Reckon I've seen everything there is down here. Want to follow me upstairs? I promise to holler if I have a damsel moment."