Title: Bad Re-Runs and Salty Soup

Author: Rot-chan

Genre: Humor/a hint of Romance

Setting: AU, Japan

Summary: Plainly, Sakura didn't know what Sasuke had against some good old fashioned TLC. Then again, maybe his hiding under the blankets was a guy-pride thing, suffering it out. She inwardly shrugged.

Notes: gift-fic for my LJ friend Omaewa. She requested "Sakura nurtures a bedridden Sasuke". They're all about 24-27, coworkers in the office. I instantly thought of, for whatever reason, Mark Ruffalo taking care of a suddenly sick Drew Barrymore in Fever Pitch and I was inspired :) Happy reading. Reviews are love. (By the way, my use of Tangled is a reference to Omaewa's fave movies.)

Of course, Sasuke didn't answer.

Sakura grimaced internally as she looked at the time on her cellphone behind her Tangled screensaver (yes, she still enjoyed animated movies, she was a sucker for romance and fairytales). 6:28. Definitely on time. In fact, she was two minutes early. In this case, that was a bad thing.

Sakura had rushed to flat iron her unruly pink hair, nearly burnt her thumb twice, rushed to fit into some malicious pair of spanx - she was a strong believer in a perfect figure in the presence of nearly perfect men - and a torturous LBD. Now she stood in front of Sasuke - her date's door, and she'd already knocked three times. Three.

Still there was no answer, and Sakura was beginning to feel almost humiliated at the possibility of actually being stood up.

(Almost? Who was she kidding, she was flat out embarrassed as hell.)

It had taken Sakura literally months to score this date. She'd first seen him in August, while secretly browsing through some gossip columns hidden beneath her spreadsheets, and she had just transferred to her new department. Handsome, revered, and slightly feared, he was the "witch" of the office (you know how disgruntled men give nicknames).

Uchiha Sasuke, walking straight towards her cubicle, dark hair and lanky and faired skinned, slightly frazzled, bags beneath his eyes, obviously burnt out; wearing an almost ill-fitting gray suit, he could easily fall under the category for 'Male heroin chic model'. Sakura didn't quite know if that was a good thing - but unlike the other guys, the past boring dates and stupid pick up lines, she could tell he was different.

She admired him, yes; but obsessed, she was not. Sakura Haruno would not allow herself to be obsessed over any man, no matter how successful or how ridiculously good looking he was.

Well, at least that's what she thought, until Sakura heard from Ino months later - yes, months - that Sasuke had finally broken up with his assistant (what was her name again? Kin? Karin?) and was 'totally and completely single and open for business'.

So she'd dropped little hints, sent tiny smiles and flirtatious glances his way during development meeting - because Sakura couldn't give up, she just couldn't get over Sasuke, and his mannerisms that she could relate to - perfectly arranged files and presentations, he was a perfectionist too, she couldn't help but be attracted to someone just as neurotic as she thought she was (and that hair!)

Eventually, not one to follow advice from Ino or her magazines, she gave up completely on the 'subtle and sexy' approach and simply faxed him in magic marker: 'Will you go on a date with me?'

And it just so happened that two days later, he'd approached her near her desk with that trademark little smile remarking, "You're pretty straightforward." And he actually agreed. She nearly spat hot vanilla latte all over the copier.

So one date, really a semi-date - discussing work and common interests (and mostly work) over the mediocre cafeteria tuna salad - somehow led to another. And here Sakura was waiting at his door. Sasuke had slipped her his address into her brief case when he stopped by her cubicle, yesterday afternoon. Her heart turned - stupid heart. "Meet me at my apartment, tomorrow night," Sasuke said.

Now it was 6:35. Not one to be calm under pressure, well, romantic pressure, Sakura began to slowly agonize over all the reasons for his absence.

Oh God, she thought miserably. Maybe Sasuke didn't want to go because she was one of those people who talked too much, like at the movies or something - or maybe it's because she told him she was a feminist. Why did she say she was a freaking feminist?

Suddenly, Sakura heard a strange sound from inside the apartment. She frowned. "Sasuke? Sasuke, are you - "

There - Sakura heard it again. Another noise, louder this time. She pressed an ear against the door and listened...it was almost like moaning.

Conveniently forgetting common courtesy of respecting one's privacy, Sakura found the door thankfully unlocked, worriedly making her way inside and tentatively peeking into the apartment. Lush, with some art on the walls. A surprising choice of furniture that seemed almost inviting.

Sakura walked through the entry way, past the kitchen and -

There was Sasuke, lying down on the floor. Face down. Groaning. Beside a...vaporizer? And why did it smell like menthol in here?

"Um. Well..." Sakura trailed off, feeling almost awkward. She carefully set down her purse. "Sasuke, it's Sakura, look, I didn't want to just come in, but I heard something and I - "

"Go. Away." Sakura paused. He sounded rather...stuffed up.

She felt vaguely offended but decided to let it go, because she was so mature and forgiving and everything. And if he was just sick - well, what was the big deal? Sakura could faintly remember her mother used to comment that all men, including her father, acted like big babies when they came down with a chill.

...She really hoped he wasn't like all men.

"Sasuke, if you don't feel well, then..."

"LEAVE."

Sakura blinked. "I'm not going to just leave you here in some pitiful mess on the floor." A pause, before he groaned and rolled over. "Who knew Uchiha Sasuke could trip onto his face."

At last she got his attention; his flushed face and a glower was all she got, at least it was half-hearted. Sakura felt kind of bad. "What are you..." Sasuke trailed off - he coughed, and did he sound out of it or was it just her imagination? - and tried to prop himself up.

Sakura sighed, bending down to help him, struggling in her high heels. "You know, you should be grateful. I mean, look at these shoes I wore just for this date," she pointed out, feeling ridiculous in stilettos. Stilettos. In red! That had been Ino's idea.

"I mean, did you see these shoes?" Sakura asked again, gently helping him stand.

Sasuke said wearily to the floor, "You'll catch it - I mean it, you're going to - " another short cough.

At this Sakura simply rolled her eyes. She pulled him off towards the bedroom, saying offhandedly, "FYI, I have two little sisters, they puked on me all the time."

OOO

After putting on bad Nick at Nite re-runs that were, for whatever reason, on during the day, and preparing some over salted miso soup and a drink made with vitamin C, Sakura felt rather accomplished. And the tiniest bit germy.

This wasn't the ideal way she'd like to spend a date, but it was interesting nonetheless - and she couldn't just abandon her (amazingly attractive) coworker and leave him to suffer all alone, no, she couldn't do that.

Sakura sat down on opposite side of the bed. Sasuke's bed. She felt a little intrusive - Sakura could hardly believe she was actually seeing the inside of his bedroom on the first date, which seemed completely comical, since she only managed to do so by playing nurse. In fact, she thought that things would never progress far enough for them to actually make it inside the apartment; Sasuke didn't seem very wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am (thank God)...but he didn't seem exactly emotionally available either. According to Cosmo, that was important.

Still, at least Sakura knew now that Sasuke used puffs lotion tissues. And that he had matching bathroom decor. Oh well.

But she was starting to seriously consider if Uchiha Sasuke was worth it. Or at least worth getting a cold. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Their date, first real date, had been foiled before it had actually began. Unfortunately she'd always believed in annoying little things like fate.

But then again, it was kind of cute seeing her highly successful coworker, the 'suave hottie with a secret dark soul' (thank you, Ino), in a rumpled mess half-hidden beneath the covers.

As another back-to-back episode of Fresh Prince of Belair came on and the theme song quietly filled the room, Sakura watched Sasuke heavily breathe under the covers. Since the thirty minutes she'd arrived, he'd said repeatedly for her to 'just go home', 'keep herself from getting infected', and so on. Sasuke was probably the only person who was practical and pragmatic even with illness.

Plainly, she didn't know what this guy had against some good old fashioned TLC. Then again, maybe his hiding under the blankets was a guy-pride thing, suffering it out. She inwardly shrugged.

Just as Sakura stood up, Sasuke said in a breathless voice (and sounding a little stuffy), "Sakura."

"Hmm?" She paused.

"Thank you for..." Sasuke trailed off. "Well, you know." Sakura, for whatever reason, was very tempted to smile.

"No problem." Sakura went over to his side of the bed, grabbing his untouched miso soup. Remembering all the times her mother had comforted her when she was sick, Sakura couldn't resist smoothing that ridiculous hair that was poking out from beneath the blankets.

As she walked out of the bedroom, she heard him sit up and throw off the bedspread. She snickered, "Sorry, you're too cute a patient."

"Haruno, don't even -"

"Oh hush up, you Witch."

[A/N. Don't shoot me for referencing Fresh Prince, it was on while I was writing. The over salted miso is an obvious reference to NANA. And Witch. I don't know how I came up with that nickname. I could just picture the guys at their office getting sort of jealous of Sasuke's 'suave' look and joking around about him bitterly. You know that guys get jealous of each other, especially the ones who get women's attention =D Happy early new year!]