Summary: MadaSaku. Master/Servant AU. The Uchiha mansion is a very cold place. But there might be a way to warm Sakura up.

Rating: T

Warning: dirty thoughts.

The Draft

The Uchiha mansion was a cold place, in every sense of the word. The spacious chambers and high ceilings didn't allow for the rooms to heat up sufficiently, there were always uncomfortable drafts of air that could chill a person to the bone and the thick stone walls simply emanated coldness. The frigid atmosphere of the place was reinforced by the frosty demeanor of its few occupants.

Sakura, a young servant who had recently started working there, shivered and hurried along the empty corridor. Thanks to a stroke of luck she had been hired, but she already hated living there. Not only the Uchiha family and the rest of servants were the most unwelcoming people, but also she was always freezing on the job. Sakura seriously regretted not bringing the warmer clothing from her wardrobe, but she had no way of getting it before the few free days she would get at the end of the month. For now she would have to suffer the low temperatures in silence.

The girl knocked on the door to her employer's office and after receiving the permission to enter, opened it with one hand. She carefully balanced the tray she was carrying as she made her way inside, leaving the door ajar. It was the first time she visited this room and she was impressed with the elegant interior design – the dark wooden furniture, tasteful paintings and crystal candelabra. The head of the Uchiha family, Madara, was working behind his large desk, dressed casually in a crimson robe over his plain sleepwear and his long, dark mane unbound. It was late in the evening, so she supposed he would soon go to bed.

Madara glanced up at her and without word returned to his paperwork. Sakura quickly came up to him and set the cup of hot green tea he had requested on some free space within his reach. Standing so close to him, she couldn't help but notice that his robe wasn't properly tied. It was parted, offering the alluring view of the middle of his chest. The girl blushed a little and looked away in embarrassment, mentally berating herself. How could she ogle him like that? He was so old!

Truth to be told, Madara was only in his early thirties, but for a girl like Sakura, who had just turned eighteen this year, the age gap was astronomical.

"E-Enjoy your tea, Uchiha-sama," she said nervously and took the tray, fully intending to retreat to the kitchen and forget her moment of indiscretion.

"Wait," one word cut through the cool air, bringing her to a surprised halt.

"Yes, Uchiha-sama?" she asked, turning to face him again.

He wasn't even looking at her and Sakura fidgeted in her spot, growing a little annoyed at the prolonged silence.

"Take a seat. We need to talk," he added after a full minute, realizing she was just standing there this whole time.

Reluctantly, Sakura shuffled to the chair and pulled it to sit across him. The creeping, niggling doubt appeared in her mind and the initial annoyance was quickly replaced with apprehension as she began wondering what he might want to discuss with her, a measly servant. She sure hoped he was not planning to tell her that she was fired. She desperately needed the money and this job was a real lifesaver to her financial troubles.

While Sakura was analyzing every little interaction she had had with the inhabitants of the mansion and others on the staff then questioning herself whether she had offended anyone or hadn't done the job up to the high standards of the Uchiha, Madara ignored her presence as he looked through the papers. Absent-mindedly, he reached for the tea laid out on his right and took a sip. It was brewed to his liking so he calmly finished the cup and put it down.

The clink of porcelain brought the girl's attention back to her employer. There was nothing more interesting in the room, so she used the time to quietly scrutinize him. He was clean-shaven and her gaze slid curiously down the defined line of his jaw to the straight lips. He wore a neutral expression as he concentrated on his task and she wondered how he would look like with a smile. She thought that it must be an extremely rare occurrence. He seemed like such a serious, dedicated person.

Sakura couldn't stop herself from once again peeking at his chest. The broad strip of exposed skin between the robe's flaps gave her a nice view of firm pectorals and the beginning of what she believed to be a real six-pack. She had never seen one and the teasing glimpse now provided to her awakened a burning curiosity in a still, for the most part, innocent young woman.

The movement of Madara's arm made her swiftly redirect her gaze onto her lap in fear that he caught her staring. When he still didn't say anything, she shyly looked up. He was writing something, the strokes of his brush fast and deliberate. He had slim wrists and long fingers with clean, clipped nails. Unwittingly, her imagination suggested what else he could do with these hands and she trembled contemplating how it would feel to let him touch, stroke and tweak wherever he would please.

Sakura unconsciously swallowed as she felt a weird tingling in her body, which soon concentrated on her chest. A sudden draft of unpleasantly cold air blew around her provoking a bout of shivers. She shifted in her seat and hunched her shoulders to save some warmth. Her nipples were puckered and taut as the chest bindings and green yukata she was wearing couldn't protect them from the chilliness. She refused to even consider that anything else might be the cause of such a reaction.

Rubbing her arms together to encourage the blood flow, the girl glanced up again, only to meet Madara's indifferent black eyes dead center. He was giving her a penetrating look that made her feel like he was dissecting her, peeling layer after layer and uncovering all she wished to keep secret until there was nothing left but bare bones. She shuddered at the thought and straightened in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her defensively.

"How are you doing here, Haruno-san?" Madara asked, surprising her with his choice of discussion topic.

"I'm doing fine. Thank you for asking, Uchiha-sama," she replied and gave him a smile to conceal the tension she felt under the scrutiny.

Madara nodded. "There were no complaints about you. It appears you're a good worker."

"Thank you," she whispered and looked down on her lap, overwhelmed by the praise.

"Would you consider a permanent position here?"

The offer was very generous, making her head spin. She had already signed a two-month contract, but now she had the opportunity of a stable job for two years with very good wages. This was literally a godsend to her, an inexperienced worker in sore need of a stable income.

Madara handed her a copy of the new contract and accidentally their fingers brushed. Sakura did her best to keep her cool, even though the throbbing in her peaks came back with a vengeance. There was no change in Madara's impassive expression, so he must have remained unaffected by the brief physical contact.

"I'll look over it and get back to you in a few days," she said, regarding the document she was now clutching along with the tray.

"Of course, there's no rush," Madara agreed and inclined his head.

Sakura got up and put the empty teacup and saucer back on the tray. She would return it to the kitchen before going to sleep in the room assigned for her.

The girl didn't notice how her clothing was pulled tight around her chest when she bent to pick up the dirty tableware. However, Madara saw it perfectly, especially the two small protuberances under the thin material. The man's eyes darkened and he balled his fists beneath the desk to calm down.

"I'll be going now. Goodnight, Uchiha-sama," Sakura announced.

"One more thing," he stopped her for the second time during their meeting.

Madara stood up and strode the few steps up to her, then undid the belt of his robe and took it off. Sakura gasped, her eyes round as she caught sight of his naked torso and the glorious eight-pack just above the loose pants. Her eyes roved over his form in obvious appreciation, then snapped back to his face. He looked quite smug at her paying close attention to his body and she flushed in mortification under his knowing gaze.

Madara held out his robe to her. "Here. Take it before you catch a cold."

Stunned, Sakura tried to protest and get out but he didn't take 'no' for an answer. Completely ignoring her objections, he took the tray from her and stood behind her to help her pull on the robe. His hands she had fantasized about before worked quickly as he closed the flaps to cover her up to her neck, the light grazing of fingers against her sensitive, hardened nipples causing a pleasurable jolt to shoot through her. She breathed deeply, keeping in a moan that rose up in her throat and dismissed the incident as something unintentional.

Madara cinched the sash on her waist and, after turning her around by shoulders to face him, he gave her a once-over. She looked very appealing in red, he noted, pleased.

"You can take tomorrow off to get some more warm clothes. The mansion is still rather cold despite the spring," he sanctioned an outing she had been dying for the entire time she had been in the mansion.

"It would be... great," Sakura replied, still taken aback by the man and his actions. She had never expected him to behave so familiarly with a servant. It boggled her mind that he cared enough to lend her the robe.

She took the tray again. "Thank you again, Uchiha-sama. Goodnight," she bowed and exited the office hurriedly, thankful to leave and escape his piercing gaze before he actually uncovered any of her secret thoughts. She was so embarrassed with herself and the strange pulsing in her body didn't stop. It was getting stronger and concentrated in her impossibly tight peaks and the lower abdomen, where it formed a warm ball of tension.

Sakura released a shaky breath as she reached the bend in the corridor. If she had looked behind instead, she would have seen Madara standing in the entrance of his office, a large smirk on his lips as he observed her retreating figure.

The man rubbed his fingertips together remembering the feeling of hard nubs on her chest and smiled sinisterly. If she thought that he hadn't noticed her wandering eyes then obviously she didn't know who she was dealing with.

Sooner or later he would have a whole lot of fun with this pink-haired girl.

He was certain of that.

The End

AN: This came to me out of a blue and I had to write it down. I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot :)