Three Drabbles and Some Rampant Silliness
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There was something in the way she moved, he decided. Something that called to mind endless waves on a shore of soft, sweet sand that rang with open invitation: Come, dance upon my shore and be happy, be free. From a distance, watching her move, he could see an ocean of possibilities ecompassed in the scope of her arms, her hands, her hips.

From a distance, he could pretend that the implicit invitation in her gestures was open to him, as well, until she approached and he could see the way she cut through his heart with the inevitable ice of her eyes.
(Von and Ari'i)
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Back from an assignment, and still not back in shape. Choose your target. Aim. Throw. See the knife sprout like a daisy out of the dummy's forehead. Aim again, strike true this time, through the throat, then through the chest, then beneath the arm through a chink in the armor that is every warrior's greatest weakness, if you don't count wine and women and the lure of opium. An assassin must choose her weapons well; there was a time for blades and a time for heated glances beneath smoking eyes.

In the corner she could see her father, keeping his hands to himself by the wall. He shifted slightly, and a rack of knives ten feet away clattered to the floor. Beside her, a classmate decapitated yet another practice dummy with a slightly overexuberant throw. Both of them were scolded soundly, and she smiled to herself. It was good to be home.
(Foxbird, training, and Blaine)
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Virgil resigned himself to a lifetime of lemon pepper tofu and tomatoes. Trent always gave him a look when he suggested they eat fish, and he couldn't stand it when Trent gave him that particular look. Fish eyes did not lend naturally to puppy-dog expressions, but Trent was talented in ways he could only guess at.

Chicken was out of the question, too, because then Perry would sulk or cry or stare listlessly out to sea for days on end, and just about the only thing that could distract him was a nest full of baby seagulls, and those were rather difficult to procure on the open ocean in the middle of September.

Nova didn't care what she ate, so long as it wasn't moving much. Virgil always had to promise that the tomatoes were very dead before serving them to her, because she didn't like the way they bled all over the plate.

Life had tasted so much better when he lived alone.
(Virgil, after becoming pirate king)
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"Run along, Relm, I'm going to divest your father of his clothing now." Setzer waved his hand at her absently and she sauntered off with her sketchpad, giggling.

Shadow glared and wished, not for the first time, that he could set things on fire with the power of his eyes. Setzer's jacket would probably blaze quite nicely once it got started. "You will do no such thing."

Setzer remained unrepentantly fire retardant and grinned, sliding his arms around Shadow's waist. "Would you have preferred I let her stay and watch? That's a bit twisted even for you, don't you think?"

"I sometimes wonder if you even understand the concept of discretion." He was almost smiling, though, and Setzer had gotten quite skilled at reading his non-expressions.

"Never heard of it. Must be something you picked up in some strange, foreign land, because it certainly doesn't happen around here." Setzer's grin had become the personification of wickedness as he toyed with Shadow's shirt ties. "Perhaps you'd like to move this to a more comfortable place, like, oh...the front hall? The carpeting is quite soft..."

The ninja shook his head. "Actually...I have a headache. I think I'll go take a nap." He gently pushed the other man away.

Setzer gaped, for once at a loss for words.

Shadow gave him a one-fingered salute on his way out and shut the door behind him.

"That wasn't very nice." He looked down to where Relm sat on the floor with her sketchpad. He resisted the urge to ruffle her hair and settled for an expression of vague, aloof amusement.

"He deserved it. Shouldn't you be eavesdropping on someone else's conversation?" He wasn't sure how to deal with bratty little girls, particularly not his own.

"Well, now that the two of you aint' doing nothing interestin'..." She flipped her sketchpad shut and scrambled to her feet. "See ya later, pops!" She'd clearly inherited his own talent of expiditious flight.

Shadow sighed and glared at her retreating figure. "Pops?" Oh, for heat vision goggles...life would be so much easier with heat vision goggles...
(Setzer gets no nookie)
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Yeah, yeah, Von and Ari'i do sleep together, but that was a one-shot deal because they're both too bitter, jaded, and screwed up to ever admit they love each other. (Song of Shadows: look, it's het, I swear! Just, y'know, ignore all those longing glances Von keeps giving everyone else.)

Blaine has managed to stab himself with a quarterstaff. He's not allowed to shave without supervision. Naturally his daughter is one of the most talented assassins in the guild.

Poor, poor Virgil. He doesn't deserve half the shit that happens to him, but at least he gets a happy ending. If you could call living with Trent, Perry, and Nova happy, that is...At least he gets to call himself a Pirate King. He's even got the silly hat to go with it.

Every ninja secretly wants heat vision goggles. Why should Shadow be any exception? (Had a very hard time not having either one of them refer to the other as 'wifey'. Because Shadow totally pulled a 'wifey' there, and it really wasn't very nice of him at all. Setzer had it coming, though; the beginning of that particular scene involves lawyers and signet rings, and it's all just very, very silly.)

I like how I can go from angst to complete and utter silliness in under a thousand words. Hee.