Nightshift 39: Kitchen

[31st-of-china.livejournal.com]

[With mod permission]

Sanzo jerked awake, cheek pressed against the floor. The monk immediately went for the gun. He hadn't gone to sleep that last shift, not while he hadn't made a decision about Takasugi. What the fuck? Had they drugged the food? He was curled on the floor - and he definitely wasn't in that cell any longer - his fingers around the Smith & Wesson. Sanzo pushed himself up.

He flicked the flashlight on, and looked around. An island in the middle, pots and pans above, a familiar metal door. What the hell was he doing in the kitchen?

Sanzo rose, the gun scraping against the floor with the movement. Something was going on here. He'd only woken up like this once, and that'd been that time in the morgue.

What was going on here?



[To here

Comments

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

Sakura stayed near the door when they entered, just to see if Kakashi's allies would take them up on the offer. There was already a really tall guy there who seemed to be either watching the fight or waiting on others, but she tried to stay out of his way. The others were gathering blunt tools which she supposed might be helpful. She knew she'd seen notes on the bulletin that spoke of weaponsmiths, but she'd yet to meet one in person.

She said nothing, but wondered how long Kakashi would have them wait on these others. Sakura didn't mind healing them, though it would probably deplete her chakra, but if they didn't get moving, they might not make their own destination.

[toobothersome.livejournal.com]

After passing the pieces of silverware to Kakashi, Shikamaru leaned against the counter, arms folded, wearing an expression that most would consider disinterested or aloof. In actuality, his attention was fixed on his three teammates, and as he waited for Kakashi's okay to move on, he carefully noted their expressions and shifts in posture. Sakura had said they'd all come from different points in time, and although he was determined to learn as little as possible about the future, he knew the difference that a matter of months or even weeks could make in a person's perception of themselves and the world. If Naruto was from an earlier time, Shikamaru would have to take that into account when predicting his actions and gauging his priorities, especially knowing what he'd just learned at breakfast. Sakura and Kakashi would be even harder, since he'd have to make predictions based solely on what he saw here. Still, at least for the time being, nothing would change his resolution to keep his own future where it belonged: in a very separate place from the present.

From what he'd seen, Kakashi hadn't changed much from the man Shikamaru last knew, as evidenced by the fact that they were stuck waiting around for some guy that they had no official responsibility for. This part of the jounin's personality could be a hassle, especially in a situation like this, but in line with past experiences, Shikamaru's appreciation for the trait far outweighed any frustration. Sakura seemed her usual bothersome self, though he was far less grateful for that. Naruto seemed slightly unsettled, but that might be due to the kitchen itself...he'd seemed more comfortable in the hall.

A hell of a lot of concentration to lead to no conclusion. This was becoming a pattern. Shikamaru unfolded his arms to drag one hand down his face, then let out a quiet sigh that was closer to tired frustration than impatience. The sooner they moved on, the sooner he could think productively, and the sooner he could think productively, the sooner he wouldn't have to think at all.

[whirlingwinds.livejournal.com]

Naruto, in a situation like this, didn't really like waiting around. They had a place to go, and he didn't like the kitchen (not just for what he'd been thinking about before but because of the smell, amongst other things). He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, wondering if anyone would actually come here or if they'd be waiting for no reason.

"Is anyone coming?" He asked.