"I'm pretty sure," Waki-sensei said conversationally, gesturing to show Raidou where to grab to flip Kuromaru over, "that he doesn't have enough hair to shave in this form. Okay. Flip." He stepped back and waited expectantly.

"If he bites me," Raidou said wryly, keeping an eye on Kuromaru as he grabbed. "I'm blaming you. Then I'm making you sign me off for at least a week--" he flipped. "--no, make that a fortnight of recovery. And I'm making you buy me dinner somewhere. Possibly for my friends, too."

He jerked his hands away before Kuromaru's snap ripped off one of them at the wrist. "Y'know, I think that counts." He grinned and ruffled the former-dog's hair quickly. "Thanks, mutt."

"When I was in ANBU--"

"YOU WEREN'T!"

"--we didn't question the doctors."

"You're insane," Kuromaru grumbled.

"Of course I'm insane! I'm your doctor!" Waki yelled back. Then he turned to Raidou. "But I accept your invitation. We'll invite all your friends. Tell them about our torrid love affair. Sex and age are nothing when you're in ANBU." He put his hands on Kuromaru's spine, feeling down the svelte back. Swollen-knuckled fingers were no long as dexterous as they'd been in his youth, but they were sensitive. When he came to where the disks were misaligned he slowed, moving with care. "We shall explain how we met over a fallen pet. Your boyhood friend."

"I am not--ooooh," Kuromaru nearly purred. Bones cracked back into place. His muscles went limp.

Waki continued as if he hadn't spoken. The dance of his chakra and Kuromaru's intertwined into a delicate healing jutsu, repairing the spinal cord damage. It didn't distract him from talking. "I can pull up your files. Make sure that every time you come in, I'm here to greet you with the love and attention you so dearly deserve. Your teammates, too." He stopped, whole body going still, and looked Raidou in the eyes. "I will bake them a cake." Then he returned to feeling down Kuromaru's back. Once done there, he picked up each hand, eyed the small cut in one palm, and looked at the human-dog. "I prescribe licking it until it's red and swollen and you have to come see me again. We both know that's what you'll do. Hopefully it won't get red and swollen. If it does, I am going to suggest a prostate exam. Do we understand each other?"

Kuromaru nodded.

"Good." He stepped back. "Change into dog again."

Kuromaru pushed up onto his hands. Chakra released and splashed, and his body twisted until a giant black canine leapt gracefully onto the floor. He yanked his front paw up, began to look pitiful, and quickly put it down when Waki lifted his foot in return, angling it toward Kuromaru's midsection.

"I kid, I kid!" Waki said to the nurse standing, horrified, in the doorway. Then he realized she was staring at Kuromaru in nearly as much fascination as she'd looked at him in horror. "What? You've never seen a man reveal his true self before? Get him some sugar pills and tell him they're pain medication."

"I can understand you, still," Kuromaru growled. It came out deep and rumbling.

Waki wasn't intimidated. He dug in his lab coat pocket once more. "Hmph. Here." Pulling a handful of lint-covered treats and capsules from his pocket, he tossed them one by one to Kuromaru, who caught them mid-air. "Where is his owner?" He looked around, didn't see another Inuzuka, and turned to Raidou. "Give him three of these over the next hour, or his spine will lock back up. If I have to expend more chakra on him, I will be forced to send you to the OB-GYN for an exam." Rheumy eyes pinned Raidou. "Do we understand each other?"

Raidou considered for a moment. "I don't think that's the action of a caring lover," he said finally, and leaned back against the wall. "My heart's been broken before, y'know. I need to be treated carefully. I'm a fragile blossom."

When in doubt, go with the landslide. He ignored the nurse's strangled laugh.

"And how good a cake are we talking?" he added thoughtfully. "Because I won't be seduced for something plain. My standards require high-quality chocolate and some delicate icing work." He smiled, drowning happily in the vestiges of exhaustion and adrenaline. A little cake talk on top of that was nothing. "And his partner will be back soon. She's just dropping some kids off."

Waki sidled up to Raidou with slow, stiff movements, put a gnarled hand up on the man's shoulder, and patted carefully. "There, there, blossom. I'm only making sure you won't give me a sex-disease. As for the cake, you'll have to take what you can get. It's that or hospital Jell-O." He gave another feathery pat and headed for the door, tucking Kuromaru's file under his arm.

Tsume nearly ran into him coming into the room. She looked up and paled, turning around and marching away.

"Tsume! Your gynecologist says you haven't been in lately!"

Her shoulders hunched. "I know!"

"For the last... how old are you? Forty-one?"

She whipped around. "Twenty-eight!"

"Hmph. When I was in ANBU, we had the decency to retire younger. I hope you don't have crotch rot. If you do, I'll have to post pictures when you come in for treatment."

"I don't have crotch rot!" Her voice rose an octave.

He looked at her doubtfully.

"Why are you even on shift? Don't you ever leave here?" she yelped.

"I was on vacation. In Mist country. I ran very fast." He looked down at the file, then back up to add, "I gave your dog sugar pills. He'll feel better soon."

"Those tasted too awful to be sugar pills," Kuromaru muttered.

Waki turned to stare at him. "I added urine and decay, so it was like something you'd lick." He turned back to Tsume. "Go see your gynecologist."

She cleared out of his way as he walked past, white hair fluffing on either side of his head. It moved with the breeze he created.

"I really hate that man," she muttered, watching him the way others might watch resurrected corpses. Then she took a breath and glanced back at Raidou. "Thanks. I'll buy you a beer if you forget everything he just said." She certainly needed a drink. As if the mission hadn't been bad enough...

Raidou grabbed the nurse by the collar before she could escape, and dropped the pills into her hands. "Three over the next hour," he repeated. "Or the crazy doctor will come back with his talk of cake and crotch rot." He smiled with the very faintest edge of mania. "And he already wants to date me, so I have nothing to lose."

The nurse eyed his expression, then turned quickly on one heel and sat down next to Kuromaru.

Raidou gave Tsume a real smile. "I'm not sure one beer's going to cut it," he said cheerfully, while his mind ticked over the events of the past few days--complete with a finale of Waki-sensei--and presented the likelihood of nightmares. "Or possibly ten. I hope you're rich, little boss."

She wasn't, but she didn't really need to eat for the next week. If she showed up at the clan grounds, they'd feed her. Gripe at her, but feed her. She leaned over, stretching past Raidou to ruffle Kuromaru's fur. "Be good."

"They weren't sugar pills," he muttered.

"I'll be back in a few hours."

"I'll meet you at headquarters. And they didn't smell anything like urine."

She lifted one eyebrow, but didn't say what she was thinking. She didn't want to know how he knew that, and was afraid she already did.

"C'mon, Raidou. Let's get plastered." Straightening, she paused and stared for a moment at the swell of muscle under the rips in his shirt, the glint of a dogtag resting against naturally tan skin. She faltered a smile up at him. "Maybe not totally plastered. Just mostly." Then she turned and headed down the hall.

"How about singing drunk?" Raidou suggested, falling into step just behind her. "Or dancing drunk. I can do a fairly mean waltz when the mood takes me." He glanced back as they went, checking the set-up outside the room Kuromaru was in. They were in one of the wings reserved for ANBU, with nice lockable doors and hefty looking security guards. He flicked a look up, noting the shimmer of seals written into the walls, and nodded to himself. Kuromaru was well protected; they didn't have to worry.

"Or... shadow puppet drunk," he continued, letting his thoughts slide where they wanted to. He'd noticed the check when Tsume had looked at him--the way her smile didn't sit quite right on her tired face, but he didn't intend to let her go out and drink alone, either. Especially not with her partner in hospital. That was when people got stupid. "Juggling drunk?" He quirked a wan smile, and tried to come up with a way to say Don't worry, I'm not dumb enough to be a threat. I can stay in control of myself. Really.

The words twisted away.

"Finger painting drunk?"

Tsume shouldered out the doors and into the night. Cold air hit her like a wall, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Maybe breaking chairs drunk. Or passing out in the snow drunk. Or breaking into Nara grounds and hunting deer drunk." She grinned at that memory. Shikaku had been so annoyed.

She looked around, trying to pinpoint bars that weren't too far away, that she hadn't been banned from years ago.

It was colder than it had been the last time she and Raidou had gone drinking. Of course, she hadn't known his name then. She twisted to look up at him and asked, "You play pool?"

They'd started a fight last time, Raidou remembered suddenly. She'd bought him a drink, and they'd started a fight. Apparently it was a habit Tsume hadn't shaken. A faintly cynical smile curved his mouth. He could relate.

"Hm?" Raidou said, rejoining the real world. Tsume'd asked a question. "Pool? Yeah, sure. And darts too, sometimes. Though, not so often when I've had a few. People get tetchy when you give them an accidental skull piercing." He hunched his shoulders, unhappy when the cold tried to tear a new hole in his shirt. Without Kuromaru to provide a back warmer, and a marathon's worth of sweat leaving him chilled, winter was a less friendly season to be half-dressed in. "You have a place in mind? Because there's The Broken Sword about a street over that's pretty ninja-friendly."

"Sounds good," she said, nodding once. She didn't often drink near the hospital--if she was here, usually she was with someone--and she certainly didn't know of anywhere better.

Her ANBU armor was beginning to feel heavy. She adjusted it, glanced at Raidou's shirt, and smiled wryly. "Meet there in ten? I'd like to change, and you're looking a bit... torn up." She grinned.

Raidou groaned and shook his head. "Awful pun," he admonished, straight-faced. "Shame on you. Hang your head until you learn better mirth. Ye gods." He shoved his hands in his pockets and settled back on his heels. Letting an off-balance partner out of sight went against every bone in his body. On the other hand, those bones were cold....

"Ten minutes," he agreed finally, and turned towards ANBU's HQ. "Bring money!"

She still had demon blood under her nails when she got back to the bar. Sliding onto a stool, she hooked her booted feet over the rung, khakis almost as baggy as the hoodie that swamped her over a man's undershirt. She wore no hitai-ate, and her tattoo was covered, but people still gave her the room they'd have given any ninja.

She ordered two beers and watched the men playing pool in the corner. She could do much better.

It was amazing how something as simple as a clean pair of jeans could completely change your mood. Raidou strolled into the bar nine minutes later with soap on his neck, civilian clothes adding an easy stride to his walk, and a switch in his head flicked to Not-ANBU. The dogtags around his throat and the hidden curve of his tattoo were all that said ninja.

Unless you happened to count muscle tone.

He dropped down next to Tsume with a jaw-cracking yawn and signaled the bartender. "So," he said cheerfully, leaning on one elbow as the man bustled over. "What're your moral views on completely thrashing those idiots at pool? Because I vote we take them for all they've got."

He was a warm, large presence just to one side of her, protecting her back. She relaxed a little bit. He was the best sort of pack: not one interested in being the alpha, not one you constantly had to snap back into place. Just one that felt comfortable being the power behind the orders.

He reminded her a little bit of a larger Yasuo. She shook that thought away and looked around at the men playing pool. "Ah... my morality says it would be unethical not to live up to our full expectations, and bite tail at pool." She picked up a napkin off the bar, and--half a second away from reaching up to rub the spot off herself--slapped it into Raidou's chest. "You have soap on your neck. It's making my sinuses tickle."

Raidou laughed and took the napkin. "So sorry my personal hygiene offends you, boss-ma'am." He scrubbed the smear of soap away and didn't bother to explain about washing fast enough to take his skin off, for fear she would be gone by the time he got here.

But she wasn't, so he smiled instead. He smiled a little more when he stood back and got a better look at her. With the hoodie and the cargo pants hiding all her curves, and the sharp angle of her mouth and the slice of her tattoos chasing away any femininity from her face, she looked more like a teenage boy than the twenty-eight-year-old ANBU she claimed to be.

But Raidou wasn't dumb enough to tell her that.

He glanced at the pool players, and then took a beer off the barman with a nod and a flip of coins onto the counter . "So, little boss. Think you're capable of playing small and helpless to lull them into a false sense of whatever, or should I give it a shot?"

Tsume paused as she slid down to her feet, tipping her head to consider, for a moment, the idea of Raidou playing small and helpless. She buried her smirk in her beer, drank half of it in one go, and eyed the players. "I'm not sure I could possibly be small and helpless to them. You might have to do it. You have that, 'oh please sir, don't hurt me,' air about you." She angled her head to peer up at him sidelong, a teasing grin playing across her mouth, showing canines. Her pale eyes twinkled.

"I think I can maybe manage small." Her grin widened, self deprecatingly. "Maybe. It'll be difficult to hide my bulk." She laughed and joked, "Now if I can just do helpless..." It wasn't something she could even imagine of herself. But maybe if she just practiced clueless...

It had been years since she'd pool-sharped anyone. It had always been fun.

Raidou cracked a grin, feeling it pull sideways as his scar warped. "I'm a delicate blossom," he said, deadpan. "As I keep telling people. I have fragile petals, y'know. I'm easily bruised."

By the look on her face, she wasn't giving his comment the serious attention and respect it was due.

He grinned wider and snapped the top of his beer. One long swallow cleared the rasp out of his throat. A second spilled warmth into his stomach and did a lot for easing tired muscles. He took a third for good measure and gave the almost empty bottle a slightly disgruntled look.

Then he focused back on Tsume. "Well, boss-ma'am, if you want to take your bulk over there before it crushes me, you can get some good practice with your helpless act." The image wasfrightening. "If you need help, just send me a signal. Break some guy's finger or something."

"Very funny, dog-porter," she snorted, but swaggered toward the table anyway. Already, her helpless act was failing.

She eyed the game in progress, ignoring the fact that the players were eying her back, and picked up a pool cue. "You guys interested in twosies?"

"You and your girlfriend?" one of the men asked. There was a note of hope in his voice.

Tsume turned and looked purposefully at Raidou. "Yeah. My girlfriend." She looked back at the players and smiled.

The idiot's friend laughed and began loading balls onto the table, scratching their current game. "You know how to play?"

"I've played a few times. We use beginner rules, mostly. You know. Everyone gets a turn. I get more than one shot." She grinned. "I suppose I have to learn the big kid's rules at some point, though."

"What level?" He wasn't asking about her pool playing abilities. She looked at him, gaze quick and assessing. She suspected he was a chuunin. "Special jounin," she answered about her own. No point lying; if they'd been around, they could likely tell. She nodded to Raidou and made an educated guess. "Him, too."

"Chuunin." The guy nodded to his buddy. "Jounin."

Liar, she thought but didn't say. ANBU didn't even enter the conversation. No one suspected that. No one suspected ANBU came in her size, regardless.

She felt Raidou behind her and turned, giving him a brilliant smile. "They're willing to let us play. Gonna go easy on me." If her gaze a was a little wicked, they couldn't see it anyway.

"How kind of them," Raidou said, and managed to spin the inflection to perfect honesty. "I just hope they do the same for me, seeing as how I'm a helpless girl and everything."

The men behind Tsume seemed to find that hilarious. Raidou gave them a broad, friendly grin, and shoved his hands into his pockets, where no one could see his fingers twitch.

"C'mon, peaches!" yelled the self-proclaimed chuunin. "You playing or what?"

Raidou shot Tsume a wry look. "I'm cursed," he said softly. "Forever destined to bear a flowery nickname. I should get my dogtags changed."

The jounin whistled and threw him a pool cue. Raidou snapped it out of the air without looking. "I'm coming!" He snorted and made his way to the table. "Give a lady a second to screw her courage up, fellas. You look so scary and talented an' all."

He balanced his cue against the table and listened to the laughter with another friendly smile. After a moment, he slid one hand behind his back and flicked Tsume a careful sign. See my patience? Witness it. This is years of training coming into effect.

"So," he said cheerfully, when the mirth wound down. "Who goes first? You fine gentlemen or us delicate females?"

"By all means," the one that smelled less drunk said--the idiot's friend, the liar. He smiled broadly and gestured to the table. "Ladies first. You'll have to argue it out between the two of you who's more delicate and deserving of the name." He looked at Tsume, eyes twinkling. "But your buddy there looks awfully fragile."

"A regular desert flower. Bruises like you wouldn't believe," Tsume agreed. She angled an amused look at Raidou and stepped aside, gesturing at the table. "Have fun, Petal."

"Careful, people," murmured Raidou with a smile, "this rose has thorns." He picked up his cue again and eyed the table thoughtfully, feeling out the dynamics of the two men as he did so. The chuunin was more sober, more aware, and, technically, more of a threat. But a drunken jounin wasn't someone you wanted to take your eyes off.

Raidou hitched up a thoughtful eyebrow when he noticed the chuunin was already taking his mental advice--his gaze was all over Tsume.

Must have a thing for teenage boys, he thought wryly, and lined up a shot. With great skill and consummate ease, he managed to break the starting triangle of balls and richocette the white across the room.

"Oops," he said, and waved a hand at the ninja who'd caught it. "My bad."

The ninja snorted and lobbed the ball back. Raidou dropped it on the table. "Recent special jounin," he lied blithely.

The drunk jounin laughed with a nasty edge. "It shows, flowercake."

Raidou smiled and handed the cue to Tsume.

She took it in one hand, drained the rest of her beer still clutched in the other, glanced at the cue to realize it was taller than she was, and gave Raidou a dirty look.

Then she decided that it just might work, and walked to the table with a too-long pool cue. She twirled it like a bo, nearly hitting three glasses and a chair in the process. Then she leaned across the table, paused to pull her hoodie sleeves up--they instantly slid back down over her hands--and shot.

The white ball hit the eight. They both missed sinking by half a hair. A striped ball spun a slow revolution and lazily made its way toward the corner. It wavered on the edge, and finally fell in.

Tsume lifted both hands, bellowed, "I got one!" then set the cue aside and walked toward the bar. "Anyone else want another beer?"

Raidou arched an eyebrow as both men watched Tsume leave. The chuunin's gaze was definitely south of the border. "Sure, buttercup," he called after her, giving their opponents a warning look wreathed in a pleasant smile. "Anything with pink on the label would be just dandy."

At some point he was going to drop the act, but not until he was completely sure both men had bought it. With any luck that'd be somewhere before the next game.

Raidou picked up Tsume's abandoned cue and slung it over his shoulders, folding his arms up and over it until his hands dangled down, empty palms hanging in plain sight. "Your shot, fellas."

The chuunin lined up and sunk three solids. The chuunin brought it up to an even five. Raidou watched and made the appropriate disappointed noises when they looked his way.

"Think we're losing, honey-pie," he said mournfully, when Tsume returned. "Beginner's luck doesn't seem to be on our side."