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Call a dog and they come, call
a cat and they take a message
and get back to you later.
Oldwrench, chat 13th Apr


Firefox 3
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  Samurai Champloo

by Dinky


Long Nights

This is my first shot at a Samuria Champloo fic, so please be gentle!! Anyway, these are just going to be some random, unrelated one-shot drabbles, probably mostly Fuugen-centric romance/angst/occasional humor. Rated T for language-- for now. Rating may go up...Gotta love Fuugen!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!



She wonders why we run to the red light district every chance we get.

We're men, dammit, not saints. How does that stupid chick think we can travel with her and not need a few whores to relieve some tension? F***in' idiot.

Damn, we gotta get to the next town, fast.

There she is, dead asleep, with her leg hanging out almost all the way to her hip. C'mon. Who the hell taught her how to wrap her kimono? She's always letting something show, and it's drivin' me crazy 'cause I can't even touch her. Like I said, I'm a guy, with needs, not some limp-noodled pretty boy.

It's getting to Fish Face, too. I can tell by the way he's not lookin' at her. Like he's workin' real hard to pretend he ain't noticed that sexy, milky-white skin just a few feet away from him.

I don't even bother to look away. What's the point? I'd see it in my head anyway, and it's her damn fault for puttin' on a free show. Even if she is sleeping. But it's her fault that I'm thinking about how soft that skin would feel, or how tight she could wrap those legs around my waist...

Fish Face coughs discreetly and gives me a pointed look. I just snort, lean back, and keep on starin'.

“Don't act like you didn't f***in' look. Even you're not that much of a cold fish,” I say. Then, “How far to the next town?”

He grunts, still looking pointedly anywhere but Fuu's leg. “We don't have enough money, anyway, so it hardly matters.”

“Damn,” I mutter. But I keep on staring until she rolls over, hiding her creamy skin under her cherry kimono again.


Hot-Blooded Brawling


“Muuu-gen! You are such a pig!”

Mugen leaned back on his elbows, scratching absently at his stomach. He smirked irritatingly at Fuu's dark scowl.

“What of it, bitch?” he drawled. “You ain't exactly Miss Manners yerself, ya' know.”

She turned her nose up disdainfully. “I have perfect manners. Don't I, Jin?”

“Hn,” Jin replied non-committally, quickly hiding behind his glass of sake. Mugen laughed outright.

“Oh, yeah. Stuffing yer face with all my food. Half-girl, half-pig!”

Fuu's face screwed up into a mask of red fury. “I do not stuff my face. I'm just eating a good meal now so that later when we've got nothing to eat, I'll be okay! Besides, it's my money that's paying for all this food, you stupid jerk.”

“Bitch,” Mugen returned insolently. Fuu slammed her small fists down on the table and rose haughtily.

“Fine. Then I'll just take my money and go sit by myself,” she hissed. “And I'll get a big jug of sake, and I won't share any of it with you.”

“I ain't saving yer drunk ass when you pass out, bitch!” Mugen spat as she flounced away to a table across the room. She ignored him as she shouted her order to a surprised waitress. Jin sighed and poured himself another glass of sake.

“You've shown your incredible lack of intelligence yet again,” he said. Mugen gave him a dirty look, and Jin calmly took a sip of his drink. “She's carrying all our money.”

The pirate flopped down onto his back again, frowning. “Aw, shit. Fuckin' bitch. Hey, don't drink all the damn sake, Four Eyes!”

“Too late,” Jin said calmly. He dodged gracefully, swallowing the last drop from his glass as Mugen made a wild swipe at him. Groaning, the pirate dropped his head onto the table with an audible thunk. For many long minutes, neither man moved.

Jin set his glass down, hard, next to Mugen's head.

“You could go apologize to her.”

“Like hell!” Mugen shot out, not moving his head from the table. Jin sighed, but didn't pursue the matter further.

“Hey man, check out the drunk chick,” slurred a voice from the table beside them. Three large, rough, inebriated men leered across the room at Fuu.

“Yeah, she's pretty cute,” one said. “I'd hit that piece of ass.”

Across the room, Fuu hiccuped and giggled to herself as she swayed drunkenly at her table. Mugen twitched and swiveled his head enough to train one steely-grey eye on the three men. A nervous waitress placed a huge jug of sake on their table, and the men sloshed it over the cups as they poured it out.

“She gets a little drunker, we can take 'er out back, if ya know whaddi mean,” the largest of the three slurred. He took another huge swig of sake. “And when we're through with 'er, we'll sell 'er to a brothel.”

Mugen swung to his feet as their drunken laughter rang out through the crowded room.

“Mugen,” Jin said warningly, with a nearly imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow.

“Relax, Fishy. I'm just gonna get me some sake,” Mugen replied easily. Jin sighed, knowing that the steely glint of the pirate's eyes betrayed the nonchalance of his voice.

“You're going to get us kicked out,” he muttered, already aware that it was far too late. Across the room, an oblivious Fuu tried to pour herself more sake and missed the cup completely.

“I think she's about ready for us,” the big man leered. “Let's take 'er-- Oi! What da hell're you doing?”

Mugen's tattoed arm had snaked around the man's neck in a loose choke hold. He reached out and grabbed the sake with his free hand. The other men rose drunkely to their feet, gripping their weapons, as he guzzled straight from the jug.

“So,” Mugen said, wiping his mouth on his arm, “what bitch're you bastards talkin' bout?”

“None a yer damn business!” shouted one of them, pulling his sword from his belt.

“Yeah. Now get the hell outta here before we cut you up instead 'a her!” the second said menacingly as he pointed a wicked knife at Mugen's throat.

Unconcerned, the pirate took another deep swig from the sake jug. “'Cause, if you bastards were talkin' 'bout that girly over there, I can tell ya she ain't worth it.”

Surprised, the three men gawped at him while he finished the last of the sake in one large gulp.

“Yeah, no shit. She's just a whiny, annoying brat with no tits and a big mouth. Not even a decent ass to grab on that one. But still,” he fixed them with his iron-sharp eyes. “I ain't about to let some piece of shit trash like you bastards have her.”

“Wha-? You've got some balls, moron. We're gonna fuck you up!”

The man with the knife lunged at him, and Mugen flung the table at his face. Sake and blood splattered as the man crumpled, holding his broken nose. Mugen tightened his choke hold until the drunk man's eyes bulged out of his head as the sword-wielding drunk charged him. Steel-bottomed getas flashed as he kicked first the sword, then connected with the unfortunate man's face. The man in the choke hold turned an alarming shade of purple while his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Damn. That was one pathetic fight,” Mugen sighed as he loosened his grip on the unconscious man and let him topple onto the dirty floor.

“Muuu-gen! What the hell are you doing now?” Fuu suddenly demanded as she stomped unevenly up to him. She swayed uncertainly, but the glare she fixed him with was still ferocious. Jin heaved a deep sigh and stood up, eying the bartender speaking quietly with several large guards and pointing in their direction.

“Time to go,” he said, steadying the wobbly Fuu as they quickly exited out the back. Fuu kicked at Mugen's shins and missed.

“Whaddya have to go and get us kicked out for? I swear, you can't even sit in a restaurant without picking a fight. You-” her tirade was cut short by a loud hiccup. She groaned and dropped onto the ground in an undignified heap. “Oooh. I don't feel so good...”

“Stupid bitch. You're pathetic,” Mugen growled. Fuu pulled a face at his back as he stomped off into the night. Jin sighed, the little muscle by his eyebrow twitching again.

“What a jerk,” Fuu whined. “I mean, what did he have to pick a fight with those guys for? Seriously. I bet he didn't even have a good reason.”

“Hn,” Jin replied, hiding a smile behind his calm, indifferent face.


Desparate Silence

Well, anyway...here I am again. This one is really not fluffy at all. Just a queer little drabble. But at least I'm posting something, right?



Mugen couldn't see them down the road anymore. He still looked for them, squinting into the dying sunset for their wavering silhouettes. It irritated him, because they'd been gone for months now.

He hadn't watched them leave, all those hours and days ago, at that sunny crossroad. He hadn't turned to see them walking away from him, and he told himself at the time it was because he didn't care. It was an episode, a chapter, and though it was a strange one, it was definitely closed. Still, he wished he'd watched them walk away.

Maybe if he had, he'd have a clue to where they were now. For gods' sake, where the hell could a flat-chested, obnoxious shrew and a pansy-ass, four-eyed pretty boy disappear to? Japan was only so big. With all his wandering around, he should've at least come across one of them!

Not that he would admit to looking for one of them. Hell, no. But he couldn't stop checking every red-light district he came across for a familiar pink kimono-- because, you know, she was always getting kidnapped-- or searching out every bad-ass samurai he heard rumor of, only to kill the pathetic prick out of sheer disappointment when he found them. Because Mugen had only ever known one man that he'd never beaten, but never got beaten by,s either.

Friends. That's what they'd said to him. And Mugen had never had friends before, never known what he was missing. After they'd left, an unfamiliar emptiness crept its way slowly, inevitably, through his consciousness, until he had to drink himself into a stupor whenever he got the chance in order to numb it. For a little while.

Mostly he stumbled down the road, searching, squinting into the purple-pink of the setting sun, searching for a familiar silhouette.

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