Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
AN: Akatsuki crack, plain and simple. Possible OOC but how would they act in this kind of situation. Enjoy.
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
Sasori was late. That was the thought most frequent in Kakuzu's mind as he sat in the primary safe-house's downstairs lounge, working on Akatsuki's finances. His current partner was off skulking in his quarters, thankfully trying to stay out of his way. His only company at this time was 'The New Kid', as he called him (and would continue to call him until he showed some merit within the organization), who was reading quietly in the corner. The partner he was to be assigned, Kisame, was off on a solo mission and would not be back for another week.
But that wasn't what was important; the important thing was that Sasori, and his partner, were late. By several days. He'd expect it of Orochimaru, whose thirst for knowledge often led him off on tangents, but not the puppet master. It was unprecedented. One could almost say Kakuzu was starting to get worried. Almost, for he would rip the spine out of anyone who suggested such a thing. He would, however, permit one to describe him as agitated.
It was around that time that the front door opened with an angry bang followed by the entrance of someone stomping angrily. Since the intruder had obviously known how to undo the security seals, and only actual members of Akatsuki could do that, Kakuzu didn't feel particularly threatened by the hostility that seemed to flood the room.
'Ah, and that would be Sasori, irritated at how far behind schedule he ended up,' the stitch-nin thought to himself, setting aside his balance books and preparing to greet his colleague.
Only to have to do a sudden double-take.
It was Sasori, all right, but that was where the normalcy ended. He wasn't wearing his battle-puppet; instead his true form was on full display. But the rest of his regalia was what had caused Kakuzu to start, as it was certainly not standard issue. He was wearing a lime-green miniskirt that wasn't enough to conceal the fact that he had neglected to add certain masculine details to the chassis' crotch, and a hot-pink tube-top with what appeared to be a pair of water-balloons shoved down the front. His stomping feet were encased in shiny red go-go boots in which he was trying to pretend that he'd always walked like that. And his face, a mask of barely contained fury, was covered in horribly applied makeup. In short, he looked like a cheep hooker. Kakuzu had to bite his tongue to make sure he wasn't dreaming (and planned on checking himself in for therapy if it was, because he just could not imagine how his psyche could produce such an image if he wasn't loosing it). In the corner, the New Kid made some kind of sound of horror, and was probably cursing his overly good eyesight.
But he managed to keep his cool as the puppet approached. The best thing he could probably do for his comrade was to play along and pretend he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Easier said than done.
"You're late," he stated simply, trying to draw attention away from the fact that he knew something was horribly off.
"I'm super, thanks for asking!" came the tense, overly loud reply as he stomped right past, not looking at him.
"But I didn't ask—" Kakuzu cut himself off as he realized the problem. "Would I be correct in assuming that this is somehow Orochimaru's fault?"
"Damn straight!" Another door was slammed as Sasori made his way to his workshop, no doubt with the intent of not emerging again until he'd fully recovered his dignity. Several days to a month, depending.
Kakuzu sighed and sat back, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, ignoring the labored breathing coming from the New Kid in the corner. Instead his mind pointed out the fact that the front door had only been slammed once. The conclusion was obvious and irritating.
"Orochimaru, get your ass in here and close the door," he yelled, not looking anywhere in particular. "We're not paying to heat the countryside."
The door clicked shut and locked quietly. A few moments later, the snake-sannin ghosted silently into the room, looking paler than normal, if that was even possible. And unfortunately for the New Kid and his special eyes, he was dressed exactly the same as Sasori. The effect of this regalia was much more horrifying on him, though; Kakuzu shuddered at the sight of him fidgeting with his too-short mini-skirt and the water-balloons in his top. The New Kid was clearly made of strong stuff if he wasn't screaming or trying to rip his eyes out at this point. A quick glance told him that his Sharingan had been deactivated; clearly an effort to protect what was left of his sanity. This certainly wasn't the image one wanted permanently branded into their retina.
Orochimaru laughed nervously as he noticed, and probably recognized, the New Kid; it certainly wasn't the best first impression to leave someone with. Kakuzu was sure that he would have rather teleported straight to his quarters instead of facing this, but the security seals designed to protect the base from intruders made that impossible.
"Don't ask," the snake-sannin offered as explanation, sheepishly shuffling from the room as fast as he could in those go-go boots.
"Don't tell!" the New Kid yelled after him, this time making sure to physically obstruct his vision with a hand.
And then Orochimaru was gone, and, like Sasori, it was unlikely that he would reappear any time soon (except for trips to the kitchen when no one was around, since unlike his partner he still needed to eat).
Kakuzu gave the New Kid a slightly sympathetic look as he watched him shudder and curl up on himself in his corner. It certainly wasn't the best initiation he could have had. But the Uchiha handled it remarkably well. Maybe he'd earned himself the right to be called by his given name. Because if that didn't break him, nothing would.
AN2: No, don't ask me what kind of situation those two got themselves into, because I'm the one who wrote this, and not even I want to know. Don't ask, just don't ask. I leave it to your imaginations.