Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto
Summary: Based on "Somewhere Around Midnight" by the Airborne Toxic Event. He almost did so many things differently, but 'almost' only matters with grenades and horseshoes.
Gaara looked at his watch. It was almost midnight.
He almost regretted it. The band was playing in the background, but all he could concentrate on was how strong his drink was and how drunk he'd be when he got home. It'd be best to forget it. The sand whirled outside and he heard the whisper of it on the walls of the bar. As he turned to the bartender for another drink, his eyes passed the entrance and his breath almost hitched.
He always did like that white dress.
She must be in on a mission. He was careless. All missions involving foreign ninja needed his approval. It was probably Aiko or his secretary who approved the mission, counting on his schedule to keep him busy enough for her to get in and out without him noticing.
He almost noticed her flirting with a group of jounin across the room. Almost noticed her smile and her laughter. Almost noticed how her hand lingered on the broad chest of the ninja and how his hand was now on her waist and moving closer and further down and suddenly the room was spinning and "Gaara!"
He had almost been distressed at her interactions with the man, and almost been so distracted he didn't notice her move towards him until she was right there.
"How are you?"
He almost backed away. Her smile was as sweet as before, but her face was thinner and more pointed. There was no chubbiness left over from her teenage years. Her skin was as pale as before, and her hair as bright and pink. Her skin looked as smooth as it was when she laid in his arms, naked and exhausted.
"I'm good. And you?"
A curl of hair fell into her face and he almost reached up to brush it behind her ear. The soft scent of her conditioner reached his nose and mingled with the alcohol and smoke of the bar.
"I'm fine. I'm pretty surprised to see you in a bar."
He almost missed her and the way they fit together perfectly. The way she would soothe his aching muscles after a long day. The stories she'd tell him before he drifted off to sleep. How loudly she'd laugh when she was happy and how furiously she'd scream when she was angry. How her sarcasm almost got her killed on more than one occasion and how she'd always, always put a sprig of parsley on top of every dish she cooked.
"Yeah."
He almost ordered her another drink—for manners' sake—but she was already walking away. Back to the jounin. Back to whatever motel she'd rented for the night. Back to Konoha and back out of his life.
"Bye Gaara. It was nice to see you."
And her steady gaze on his face as the jounin kissed her neck, almost hurt him. The jounin's arm wrapped around her waist and his hand settled on her hip. The wind from outside blew her hair as the door opened, and she hugged the jounin closer to protect her from the chill. Then they were gone, and Gaara couldn't help but wonder at how far they'd come from those three little words they'd promised would never fade.
He almost stumbled as he rose from his stool, but caught himself in time. No need for all of Suna to see his pain. He knew he was drunk, so didn't bother using chakra to speed his pace back home. It's not like he had anything waiting for him there besides a proper, reserved wife and an otherwise empty house.
He almost wished he, not that jounin, was in her motel, lying with her and screaming with her. But then he looked around and saw how prosperous Suna had become since his alliance, and knew his selfish wishes and desires were nothing compared to the success of his village. The village council had grown impatient with his "dalliance with a Konoha girl" and urged him to end his bachelorhood. He would have disregarded the old fools, but for the famine that was sweeping through not just their village, but the country. He saw the disdain held for him by other lords, and how his advice was disregarded because he was "just a boy."
He almost turned down the marriage offer of Water Country's princess, a marriage which would end the war between Sand and Water, and forge an alliance and reopen trade routes. His people would have food and could finally rest from war. He saw how tired his village was, and how every capable ninja was stretched thin.
When he told Sakura of the arrangement, he almost went back on his acceptance of Aiko's hand in marriage. She screamed and cursed and threw things at him—did everything she could to hurt him—and the next morning disappeared. Naruto hadn't yet forgiven him for his betrayal of her.
So he married Aiko. She was pretty and respectable. She liked to cook and clean and had a penchant for kids. She wore pretty dresses and got along with his family and the Council. But she didn't have the passion for life that Sakura had, and her growing belly only served to make his heart ache, for it was proof that yet another child would grow up in a loveless household.
Gaara shut the front door behind him and climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Aiko. She rolled towards his warmth and curled up next to him. As Gaara drifted off into sleep, he wrapped his arms around her and dreamt that her black hair was pink, her brown eyes green, and that he was in a dirty motel holding the woman he loved.