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Fandoms: Saiyuki (before the quest, I think), DC (back when Bruce was travelling the world, training to be Bat)
Characters/Pairings: Genjyo Sanzo, Bruce Wayne
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bruce comes to the monastery seeking a way to control his anger. Sanzo is not impressed.
Notes: for Sasha_anu
Wordcount: 448
Sanzo sighed heavily, one eye already twitching as the damn tick he'd developed travelling around with those idiots kicked in. He was not in the mood to be pestered by some random Westerner wanting to know about anger bloody management. What was he supposed to know about it?
But the idiot was already here, standing in the trees just away from Sanzo was doing his best to sit in peace and read his paper. He looked the young idiot over, noting the fierce glow in those blue eyes, the buzzing serenity he remembered all too well. Those first years, after he lost his master ... well, that explained why this Bruce was looking for ways to control his anger. Sighing, feeling something heavy settle in his chest, Sanzo stood to face him, and pulled his pistol, pointing it dead between the stranger's eyes. The man didn't even flinch. Far gone, this one.
"Anger management?" Sanzo asked, hearing the derision in his own voice. "How's this?"
"Hardly suitable for a Buddhist priest," Bruce answered, staring levelly down the barrel of the gun, blue eyes to violet in a buzzing duel of wills. He read Sanzo's will, saw that the priest really would shoot, if he annoyed him. Bruce knew what it was like to look at a gun in the hands of someone who would use it. Sanzo smiled sharply at him.
"This is the Genjyo Sanzo version," he said, simply. "And in the Genjyo Sanzo version of Buddhism, if someone annoys me, I shoot their ass. It's very theraputic, believe me."
"Not likely to make you many friends, though," the Westerner noted wryly, still facing him, still wary. Sanzo snorted.
"Who said I was in this for friends?" he asked contemptuously. "You came to ask about anger? Well, this is your answer. This is how I do it. Happy now?"
And then, suddenly, Bruce smiled. Sanzo felt his eyes flicker, felt the buzz of adrenalin at the expression, ready for anything, but the Westerner didn't move. Just smiled. "I see," Bruce said softly. "Your way, yes?"
"My way," Sanzo echoed quietly, and saw it. The understanding. He wondered if that's what his master had seen in his own eyes, all those years ago. He lowered the gun.
"Good advice," Bruce noted, cheer floating uneasily over the intensity of him. "I think beating the crap out of them might work for me, now that you mention it. But ..." His voice cleared, chilled, and he stared directly into Sanzo's eyes, until the priest felt his will as a raw aura around him. "I will not kill," the stranger finished. "That's my way."
"Suit yourself," Sanzo said, faintly, as he walked away. And for some reason, he felt like smiling.
