Shinobi, Arthur and Eames, Wednesday Afternoon

[om_escher]

Arthur's attempts at reading are beset by Shinobi, which attracts Eames' attention. The resulting conversation goes about as well as you might think.

Arthur really should have known better than to head back to that nice sunny lounge with his book, but if he was honest it was at least partially defiance. He wasn't going to be chased out of anywhere, even if he really did just want to read in peace. The other was that it really was a comfortable room, and Arthur could almost feel a headache brewing from the sheer amount of information he was still pouring over. Comfortable was the main goal at the moment.

Somehow he'd managed to curl his entire body into one of the armchairs, his head resting against the back as he flipped absently through Life, the Universe, and Everything, skimming through familiar scenes more than actually reading. If he was going to shut his brain off completely for a little while, he was going to do it properly.

For some young mutants, shutting off their brains required a dedicated effort; for others, it was a way of life. Today, Shinobi wan't so much wandering down random hallways in search of new nooks and alcoves or students he'd not yet met. Instead, he was walking directly through the walls between rooms, the furniture, and anything else that didn't remove itself from his meandering path. He wasn't in a bad mood, exactly, but he was tired of pouring over old marketing data. The eyestrain alone was probably going to give him wrinkles.

So, with hands stuffed resolutely into the pockets of his plum-colored trousers, he strolled from room to room with little purpose in mind other than to be out of his room for a while. It was incredibly dreary, and if it went on too much longer he was bound to do something absurdly dramatic and depressed poet-y.

He slowed when he passed through the latest wall to find Arthur, deeply engrossed in yet another book. Arthur, who was grumpy, but still enjoyable, in his prickly way--sort of like a pineapple. And at least today he was reading fiction; perhaps that would lighten his mood. "Douglas Adams?" Shinobi mused. "How whimsical. Though I suspect you'll still find a way to learn something."

If he'd been any less tucked in on himself Arthur might have started a little at the sudden voice -- he would have noticed if anyone had come through the door, reading or not. As it was, he just slowly glanced up over the top of the book, resisting the urge to sigh.

"God forbid," he said, as dry as he could manage. "As a matter of fact, I'm leaning something right now."

Though he hadn't missed the abortive sigh, Shinobi was more pleased Arthur'd had successfully fought off the sigh than perturbed he'd felt inclined to do so in the first place. "Something in your tone and overall posture suggests to me that this latest revelation is less than flattering to me personally." He grinned. "Fortunately, one-half my ancestry is known for its love of all things salty and austere."

"I feel extremely fortunate," Arthur promised him without so much as a flicker in his expression. "Was there something you needed or are you bored again?"

Shinobi waved a hand dismissively, walking through a couch only to collapse back into it moments later. "No, not bored, exactly. Just attempting to distract myself for a bit. I'd invite you to tell me to feel free to fuck off and let you get back to the book you've almost certainly read any number of times before, but I'm afraid you'd take me up on the offer. And your conversation, though ... not really terribly much feed for my ego, is still not all particularly unpleasant. Go figure."

Arthur regarded him unblinkingly for a long moment as Shinobi settled, but at least he hadn't made any move to go back to his book for the moment. "You have interesting conversational standards," he said finally. And then, slightly less dry, "can you walk through anything?"

"Anything at all, as far as I can tell," Shinobi assured him. "Brick, steel, concrete ... anything and everything!" He gave Arthur a narrow, intent stare. "And I thank you for the compliment. I'd always thought my standards were interesting."

"Huh," Arthur said almost thoughtfully, the kind of tone that meant he was carefully filing away information, and blithely ignored both the second comment and the look that had gone with it. "Handy. Anything else?"

Shinobi tsked and waggled a finger, swinging his feet over the arms of the couch and lounging on his back like a lazy house cat. "Only the first one's free, Arthur. Surely you don't expect me to just give it all away without getting something in return."

That got an expressive eyeroll out of Arthur. "So what do you want?"

The answering smile that provoked was the sum total of all things simultaneously unctuous and predatory. "Now isn't that an interesting question?" Shinobi drawled. On the one hand, he was fairly certain Arthur was far too intelligent not to realize the many, many ways it could be deliberately misconstrued. On the other ... it was likely he honestly didn't care, since little appeared to affect him to any great degree. Either way, it would have been unthinkable not to run with the obvious.

"Ultimately," he said after a few thoughtful moments, "I suppose I want to find out if, under all those protective spines, you're sweet like a prickly pear or savory like uni. For now, though ... boxers, briefs, or commando?"

Eames clearly had peeked into the room at the wrong time--having spotted Arthur, figured he'd drop by, and heard Shinobi's proclamation of lecherous intent. The worst part was that Eames was pretty sure he'd once had a very similar conversation with Arthur (about his inner hidden self, not his underpants), only... it could not possibly have sounded as sketchy. Eames stepped more fully into the room, leaning on the door frame. "Something tells me I have terrible timing," he stated before Arthur could consider an answer.

The immensely dry look Arthur had been directed at Shinobi immediately transferred to Eames the second he'd started interrupting. "That depends entirely on your definition of the word," he said, but it was almost offhand as his eyes narrowed slightly. There was something strange in Eames' expression, something Arthur couldn't quite place. And as he studied him, without thinking, he reached out to put the book down.

Shinobi pulled himself up over the arm of the sofa to regard the newcomer narrowly, his gaze shifting rapidly between Arthur and him. "I don't suppose I'd go so far as to say 'terrible'," Shinobi contributed. "Perhaps more along the lines of 'inopportune'?" He cast his dark eyes Arthur's way once more. "Though I certainly might be mistaken, neh?"

Eames headed over to Arthur's chair, perching on the arm of it.

Arthur uncurled himself slightly to give Eames more room, either by accident or design putting more in Shinobi's direction. "None of the above, by the way," he said coolly.

"So, neither inopportune nor terrible?" Shinobi asked, stretching once more upon the couch. "Welcome, then. Forgive me for not being more agreeable company." He fixed his attention upon Eames. "I don't think we've been properly introduced! I'm Shinobi Shaw. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Particularly if you're so easily familiar with this charmingly thorny specimen here." He waved a hand in Arthur's direction.

"And I say that with all possible affection," he added. "Being cold and grouchy and off-putting is the new charm, you know."

"Then you must be charmed by most of this school," Eames said, tone friendly enough. "I'm Eames. I'd offer my hand, but I've learned that's unwise half the time around here." He leaned ever so slightly into Arthur.

"I've heard worse," Arthur put in, not looking particularly offended by it. If anything, he just seemed vaguely amused.

Shinobi studied the two, then leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Never fear, Mr. Eames; I'm half-Japanese, and few Japanese ever voluntarily make contact with another person in greeting. So we're all good." He paused a beat. "And I am extremely charmed with the school so far. As you two ... seem to be with each other, neh?"

Eames snorted softly. "Look, Arthur. Someone more blunt than I am. All things are possible."

"I'm not sure if blunt is the word I would use," Arthur said almost thoughtfully. "Nosy, maybe," he added, shooting a pointed look in Shinobi's direction.

"Nosy, certainly," Shinobi agreed, nodding, apparently unperturbed by the assessment. "But in the face of a united resistance, clearly that tactic is useless. I suppose I'll just have to dig up my dirt the old-fashioned way." He glanced their way again. "Which is to say, sneakily. Meanwhile, I must admit the two of you look awfully natural together. Cute, even. I suppose it's enough for me not to mind the ganging up on the new kid so much."

Eames waved a hand nonchalantly at Shinobi. "You sadly don't classify as the new kid anymore. There was that siege from across the pond."

Arthur flicked a glance between them that might almost have been classified as curious. "You've seriously never run into each other before?" Because if asked, Arthur could have sworn that the two of them would get along terrifyingly well. The sudden tension in the air was...unexpected.

Turning his head toward Arthur, Shinobi blinked a few times. "No ... I cannot say I've had the pleasure before now. I mean, I've seen Eames-san around the school, but this will be the first time we were formally introduced."

"Never really got the chance," Eames admitted. "It's been kind of crazy the past few of weeks." He shrugged.

"Huh." Arthur leaned back in his chair, his shoulder brushing against Eames' side. "You're welcome, then."

"Truly, you are a great humanitarian," said Shinobi with a gravitas too obvious to be genuine. He tilted his head with kitten-like inquisitiveness. "You are also an artful dodger of questions pertaining to your preferences in underthings, but I suppose we must take the good with the bad."

Eames refrained from asking: 'am I that bad?' He knew Arthur's answer, and didn't want to hear it. "You ask as if there's only one option," he commented. "Not, not that I am supporting this line of questioning."

It earned Eames a brief, almost thoughtful look from Arthur. Mostly because he hadn't been sure Eames wouldn't have happily announced that he knew exactly what Arthur wore, and then Arthur would have had to kill him.

"Strangely enough," Arthur said, attention turning back to Shinobi, "I'm not all that fond of personal questions."

Dark eyes rolled dismissively. "Don't be tiresome, Arthur. I just shared some of the deepest and most intimate details of my personal genetic code. The least you can do is reciprocate a teensy bit." Shinobi stuck out his tongue. "And how would anybody ever get to know anybody else without personal questions? I suppose I could retain a crack team of private investigators to dig up this information for me, but this way seemed less overbearing."

He winked. "Which isn't to say I've taken that option off of the table entirely. Comply, or face my absurd rich-boy wrath."

Eames swung his legs across Arthur, getting comfortable. "Shinobi," he commented lightly, a grin quirking his lips. "I need to thank you for making me seem by comparison less eccentric. It's a really difficult task. Someone had to do it, and I do believe that it's you."

He accept Eames' sudden movement with a certain amount of resigned amusement, but most of Arthur's attention was in giving Shinobi a dry look. "You're welcome to try," he said coolly. "But I doubt my underwear preferences are going to teach you anything except how nosy you can be before I retaliate."

For his part, Shinobi watched the interaction between the two with idle interest, but didn't offer any further commentary for the moment. Instead, he said, "I think 'eccentric' is probably the kindest way I've ever been described, Eames-san. At least, by someone speaking more or less honestly. Arigatou."

His brows rose when his attention turned to Arthur, though. "Retaliate, hmm? That might be interesting. Though even I would feel a little bit silly escalating to that point over underpants." Not when he had the option of simply ghosting into his room and rummaging through his drawers some afternoon, anyway.

"How on earth did this subject come up?" Eames asked with a small laugh.

"I made the mistake of asking a question," Arthur said, his voice as deadpan as it got. "And I like my privacy."

"Oh, really, Arthur-chan," Shinobi protested. "I traded you some extremely practical, potentially far more personally damaging information quite freely, in exchange for a minor bit of candor regarding your sartorial preferences vis-à-vis undergarments. Honestly, I'm practically losing my shirt on this deal! And here you go and turn it into a thing."

Eames brows went up a bit. He wasn't the one that lived in Japan, but even he caught the honorific. This was a good time to be sitting ON Arthur he decided.

Arthur's eyebrows had flown upwards the second the honorific was out of Shinobi's mouth, apparently the reaction was violent enough that even Eames had noticed it. "I spent some time in Japan, you know," he said incredibly mildly. It had only been a few months before they were transferred again, really, but it had been long enough for Arthur to pick up on when he was being referred to as a little girl.

Not that he expected the warning to have much effect. If there was anything he'd learned about Shinobi so far, it was just how little he cared about what buttons he was pressing.

"Sou desu ka," said Shinobi, either oblivious to Arthur's growing displeasure or simply paying no attention to it. "That might explain the searing humorlessness, except I've started to suspect it's an essential component of your personality. How about tsundere? Ever run into that term? Because you're practically the definition."

Eames kept himself planted firmly across Arthur, watching the conversation fly over his head. He knew he really needed to add Japanese to his list of verbal endeavors, but at this point he had no clue what Shinobi had just said.

"The fact that you seem to think you live in a manga explains a lot," Arthur said blandly, and tapped at one of Eames' legs to get him to let up a little. He wasn't going to suddenly get up and punch Shinobi, as attractive as the idea was. He was fairly sure that would only encourage him. "And for the record? You'll never know."

Shinobi tutted softly. "Now, now. Never is an awfully long time. I wouldn't be so quick to issue such blanket proclamations." Rolling over slightly onto his side to regard the pair more fully, he added, "And if my life seems like a manga to you, then it has been one of an increasingly yaoi slant recently. Personally, I've always thought of it more as a sexed-up sort of Tom and Jerry cartoon."

Eames shifted suddenly into his alternate female form, perching more lightly across Arthur's lap. "Shinobi, darling, that sounds like the making of one very abusive relationship. I do hope your life involves far less electrocution and beating."

The abrupt shift barely even earned a blink from Arthur, other than him moving her slightly to readjust the altered weight. "Not to mention anthropomorphic animals," he added with a very slight smirk.

Shinobi sat up very slightly at Eames' transformation from male to female. "Well, well, well, now," he murmured to himself. "Isn't that interesting."

He soon reclined back into the sofa. "Don't read things too literally, loves. Sometimes the blows we take are entirely psychological, neh? The kind that don't leave any visible bruising. Anyway, it's nothing worth dwelling on quite so deeply."

Yeah, Eames would avoid taking that topic and running with it. Things he did not discuss avidly in front of Arthur. Eames snuggled comfortably in the new position he'd settled to. "For the record, I wouldn't judge you if you had a thing for anthropomophized cats. There's nothing wrong with cat people. I'm sure we'll have one studying here any day now."

"I'm fairly sure you shouldn't be judging anyone for anything," Arthur snorted. Eames could probably turn into a cat person himself if he really felt like it, but Arthur sure as hell wasn't going to be suggesting it.

"We have the blue boy with the pretty eyes," Shinobi pointed out. "That's close enough to count, I imagine." He regarded Eames narrowly, then, "Of course, I may not yet have seen the limits of your repertoire. Are fur and whiskers on the menu?"

"Could be, but I'm not too keen on the whiskers. Not nearly as useful as wings or a tail like Kurt's. I prefer people."

"Don't give him ideas," Arthur said blandly, though for some reason he found himself watching Shinobi a but more sharply.

"People?" echoed Shinobi, noting Arthur's reaction, but very deliberately paying it no mind. "Could you be him?" he asked, gesturing toward Arthur. "Could you be ... me?"

"Easily," Eames said. She unconsciously settled a hand at the hem of Arthur's shirt, fingers curling there. "Although I would have to get to know you better to prance around properly in public. And I don't speak a lick of proper Japanese, which would make it much more difficult to pass for you on any given day. And no, I wouldn't copy your powers, just your form."

Arthur rolled his eyes but just settled farther back into the chair. All the bullshit about personal questions and he had no problem interrogating someone else. Somehow, Arthur couldn't bring himself to feel surprised.

Shinobi swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, resting his palms on his knees and leaning forward eagerly. "Could you? The Japanese and the prancing are incidental." His face screwed up. "And I don't really prance do I?" But he quickly waved that away. "Would you? I'd like to see it. If you don't mind. Please?"

"Yes, you prance," Eames confirmed. "That much I have observed quite easily." Eames considered. Currently, this might rate as one of those 'too comfortable to show off' moments, as rare as that was. "I can," Eames conceded. "But that would require standing up."

"Make him tell you what kind of underwear he wears first," Arthur put in with a small smirk. "Unless you have something else to share?"

Shinobi had pouted a bit at the suggestion that he actually pranced. But it quickly cleared at Arthur's suggestion. "I'll do you one better," he said, unbuckling his belt and wriggling out of his trousers. "I'll show you! That should make for a fair exchange."

Eames put her hand over Arthur's eyes. "Halt. Trousers up, mister. That was a thin veil of sarcasm that you somehow missed. Also, I'm the one doing the shifting. I mean, I can guess what you're wearing, so that's no fair. I'd rather trade for something I don't know."

He batted Eames' hand away, though Arthur wasn't exactly disappointed at being blocked from seeing Shinobi strip. He was fairly sure it wasn't something he ever wanted to see, in fact. "If he takes off anything else, I'm leaving right now." Never mind that Eames was still sitting on him.

Sighing, Shinobi pulled his pants back up around his waist. "I swear, there is just no pleasing you two. All right, then, Eames-dono. What would you consider a fair exchange in this transaction?"

"Blank check," Eames said. "Future favor or answer, and I'll let you agree on what it's worth when the time comes. There's nothing in particular I want right now, but maybe once I get to know you better, darling, something will come to mind. Fair?"

Something in Shinobi's eyes hardened momentarily, but quickly relaxed back into it's more carefree expression. "Any sensible person would call that a poor deal," he said. "But no one ever accused me of being a sensible person. I am ruled by self-infatuation. So ... yes. I accept your proposal. Blank check."

"You get to set the limit when I cash in, so don't worry. I'm sure the value of getting to check out your own arse will be decent enough though," Eames commented with a wink. She shimmied off of Arthur's lap and stood, eying Shinobi for a moment, mostly to take a good look at the outfit he was wearing today. Eames might not have gotten to know the other boy yet, but spend enough time in the same building, and he always got a good look at people. With a 'tada' gesture Eames spread his hands and shifted fluidly into Shinobi. He did a slow turn, posture changing as he settled into the new body.

He hadn't missed that quick flicker of expression on Shinobi, and Arthur's attention was mostly on him as Eames finally climbed off of him. He'd seen Eames shift often enough and he couldn't help wondering exactly what Shinoni's response would be. Considering he'd wanted to see it badly enough to make an utterly ridiculous agreement.

At that moment, Shinobi's expression was one of unguarded wonderment. Eames had been absolutely right: being in a position to check himself out was worth anything the other teen might ask of him later, and then some. He reached out to trace the line of the shapeshifter's cheek--his cheek--and exhaled appreciatively. "Damn," he murmured, "I'm even more gorgeous than I thought And that's really quite a claim."

His glance darted toward Arthur. "You should probably change back, Eames-san," he said, more than a touch reluctantly. "This is testing my almost nonexistent restraint to its utmost limit." To Arthur, he added in Japanese, "You are an incredibly lucky fellow. It's not often I feel inclined to envy others, so this is an interesting new experience."

Eames of course had no clue what Shinobi had just said to Arthur. He looked down at his hands, Shinobi's hands, thoughtfully, and then shifted back to his original male form. "It's a very decent body. Good shape. Made for wild dance parties, I'm betting." He smiled at the two of them.

Arthur had just lifted an unimpressed eyebrow in Shinobi's direction. His Japanese wasn't perfect, but it was enough to get the gist-- and he wasn't about to ask Shinobi to elaborate. Let him draw whatever conclusions he wanted.

Even if he'd been about to say something, Eames' comments abruptly derailed him into a snort of vague amusement. "Please don't feed his ego more than necessary. He's already writing odes to seeing his own face outside of a mirror."

Shinobi sniffed haughtily. "As if my ego needed feeding. It is perfect and complete, and requiring no external feedback whatsoever!" He grinned at Eames. "But yes. Perfectly suited for all things wild and dance-inducing." He reclined back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling contemplatively. To Arthur, he said, "If I thought I had a chance, I might try to steal him from you."

But he quickly returned to English. "Anyway, I think I've imposed enough, for the time being. Sayonara, my dears." With that, he phased down through the furniture and floor, and quickly disappeared altogether.

"Well, that was a dramatic exit," Eames said, still in the land of having no clue.

Arthur gave him a sharp look at the parting shot, but Shinobi was already vanishing through the floor. It was probably just as well, considering Arthur had no idea what he would have said. It was dangerous to give someone like that ammunition, and unfortunately he had enough hint that Eames was a good target as it was.

Instead he just rolled his shoulders into a kind of shrug and reached for his discarded book. "You're surprised?"

"What was he spouting in Japanese? Really perverse suggestions regarding his own anatomy?" Eames eyed Arthur's chair and then finally settled back on the arm of it.

"You really don't want to know," Arthur said blandly. "Are you planning on sticking around?"

"Depends on if you want space," Eames conceded. "Or you'd stand for more distractions."

He paused look enough to give him a look. "Can you let me read for a bit before you demand attention?"

Eames snorted softly. "You are so lucky I can only shift human forms. As Shinobi brought up, thank god I can't turn into a cat. Read your book. I'll run off for a while. Find me when you're done, please?"

"Or you could stay," Arthur said, almost managing to sound offhand about it.

Eames froze only for a second. "I could. Okay."

He just shifted over wordlessly to give him room, smiling a little to himself.