Title: Moneypenny (Ninety Centimeters)
Claimer/Author: This story is written by and belongs to Emmy Kay.
Summary: A series of short scenes about a kind of friendship.
Disclaimer: Naruto and all affiliated characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi. This story is written without permission and for personal/fan/nonprofit entertainment purposes only.
Meeting
:
Kakashi slouched into the office and eyed the new person manning the missions desk. He had brown hair pulled tightly into a ponytail that couldn't contain the few strands slipping out onto the forehead above the hitai-ate. The smooth cheeks of a boy contrasted sharply with the old scar that bisected his face horizontally across the bridge of his nose. A chuunin, as indicated by the small insignia on his still new-looking flak jacket. And forcibly desk bound, as the very new-looking sling and lower arm cast signaled.
"Good morning, Jounin-san," the new person greeted him, with a professional air that couldn't hide the nervousness in the meltingly soft brown eyes.
"Hatake Kakashi," Sandaime said briskly, a thread of smoke trickling out of the pipe jammed into the corner of his mouth. "Meet Umino Iruka. It's his first day."
"Good morning, Hokage-sama. Welcome to the missions desk, Umino-san," Kakashi purred, his single visible eyelid drooping to mask his sudden interest. "I hope you'll find the work here rewarding."
"I will try my very best, Hatake-san," Iruka said, his wide smile making Kakashi wonder about the last time he had seen something so fresh and unaffected.
"Call me Kakashi, won't you, Iruka - "
Iruka flushed. "Hatake-san?"
Sarutobi cleared his throat, gruffly. "None of your games today, Kakashi. I've told Iruka all about you - so you can forget whatever performance you had planned. We don't have the time. There's much to be done, and I'm afraid you're the only one available to do it." Sandaime conferred with Iruka, who swiftly produced a scroll.
"There's an A-level mission out towards Sand Country. There's something on the border that doesn't seem right - we haven't heard from the monitors and we need to find out what is happening before this becomes a major incident."
"Right, Hokage-sama." Kakashi turned towards Iruka. "I hope you'll be waiting for my mission report when I get back, Iruka."
"I hope you have a very good mission, Hatake-san." Iruka stood up and bowed slightly from the waist.
"Kakashi!" grumped the Sandaime.
After a quick bow, Kakashi bounded away. So Sarutobi saw fit to warn Iruka, eh? That was most interesting. Wonder what the old man thought important enough to warn about.
Promotion
:
"Morning, Iruka-sensei. Congratulations on the new job, by the way." Kakashi perched on the edge of the desk.
"Thank you, Hatake-san. I'm very happy to have it."
"Call me Kakashi."
"Kakashi-san."
Kakashi sighed and moved on. "Has anyone taken you out yet? For a celebration?"
"No need." Iruka looked suddenly very earnest. "I'd be too busy, really. The first year is always very time consuming - lots to learn. I had to minimize my hours at the missions desk."
"You know," Kakashi leaned into the air above the desk, idly noting that his reach was just shy of its width, "I've always wondered about teachers."
"Oh?" Iruka raised his eyebrows. He leaned forward on his forearms, nearly meeting Kakashi halfway. "You know, I've always wondered about jounin..."
"Maybe we could - satisfy our curiosity together?" A quirk of the eyebrow telegraphed the flirty smile under the mask.
"Yes, maybe," Iruka said, looking thoughtful. "Or, maybe," and he raised his voice, the irritation clear. "One of us could stop being a bad influence on children and quit reading porn in public, Hatake-san."
"I'm shocked, Sensei, shocked. I don't know why you need to bring up your reading material at a time like this."
"If you're talking about the mission reports - then, yes, I do find yours quite shocking," Iruka said, drily.
"Mah, Iruka-sensei. I do my duty. I just close my eyes, lie back, and think of dear old Konoha," Kakashi said.
Iruka gestured with his head toward the Sandaime's office, exasperated. "Get in there. There's something big happening."
Summoned
:
It was a summons that couldn't be denied. Kakashi sighed and pulled himself together for the meeting with the Sandaime, figuring whatever supplies he didn't have on hand, he could grab on the way out of town.
As he entered the missions office, he saw someone in navy kimono with a family crest on the back and black hakama rifling familiarly through the filing cabinet. Whoever it was at this time of night couldn't be just any mission desk flunky - the person had to be very good - any newcomer would be easily befuddled by the deliberately quirky filing system.
Kakashi wolf-whistled.
Iruka turned around and smiled. "Good evening, Kakashi-san."
"Evening, Iruka-sensei. You clean up nicely," commented Kakashi. "Did you do it for me?"
"Hardly," Iruka snorted. "I don't wait around for you to show up, however it might hurt your feelings. When there is an emergency, we get called in from wherever we are."
"Which was?" Kakashi pried.
"If you must know -"
"I must, I must."
"I had a date. Dinner and a show," Iruka said.
"No dessert?"
"Maybe, if we hadn't been interrupted." A little twinkle danced in the back of Iruka's eye. "He was being a gentleman."
"Umino-san, if only I were first on your dance card."
The light in the back of Iruka's eye brightened. "Oh yes, Hatake-san. You'd definitely be first, if you came with flowers, chocolates and a wedding ring."
"You mean, like a gentleman," Kakashi said flatly.
"You wouldn't even need the flowers or chocolates."
As that comment settled in the air between them, Iruka frowned. "Speaking of gentlemen." Iruka stepped toward Kakashi, slipping in close enough that Kakashi was mesmerized by the black ring around the brown iris in Iruka's eyes, and quickly enough that he was unable to act with his usual speed and defensiveness. Before Kakashi could protest, Iruka began fussing with the open pockets, ending with zipping the vest shut.
Kakashi was bemused to find he did not mind the invasion of his personal space. That did not stop him from rolling his eyes. "Iruka - "
"Much better. You'll be ready to see the Sandaime now." Iruka gave a final smoothing pat to the line across Kakashi's shoulders, satisfied with his ministrations.
Both their heads turned toward the Hokage's office as Sarutobi hollered, "Kakashi!"
"He's feeling a bit unhappy about how you exceeded the parameters of your last mission," Iruka explained swiftly. "I wouldn't needle him too much. It'll only aggravate him, especially with what he's about to ask you to do."
The Sandaime was at the doorway of his office, scroll in hand.
Iruka smiled at Kakashi. Sarutobi frowned.
Kakashi stepped away from Iruka, wondering, not for the first time, what the Sandaime had told Iruka about him.
"Do you have everything? You're going to have to leave right away," Sarutobi said.
"Ah," Kakashi said, starting to reach for his pockets, feeling twinges of shame at his state of unreadiness. Then he realized Iruka had also managed to insert shuriken, extra explosive tags, and packets of healing herbs, soldier pills and ration bars into his jacket. "I'm good."
Very good, indeed.
Dispatch
:
When Iruka handed Kakashi his mission scroll, he asked, "Can I bring you back something, Iruka-sensei?"
"Why, yes, Kakashi-san," Iruka answered brightly. "Get me something slinky and golden that would fit this finger here." He held out his left hand, palm up.
"Which?"
"This finger." Iruka smiled, brown eyes lit with glee as he folded all of his fingers into his palm, save the middle.
"You teach your students with that finger?"
Iruka opened his mouth to bellow as Kakashi, grinning mightily beneath his mask, bounded off.
Mission
:
A tall, white-haired man wearing an oversized hat that covered one half of his face, entered the small restaurant and took a seat at a table on the patio. The sleepy hostess stifled a yawn as the bartender nodded amiably at the customer. "Vodka martini, stirred, not shaken," he ordered.
He pulled out a newspaper and began to read.
A tall blonde woman carrying a whole day's worth of shopping bags ran in with a flurry and sat down quickly next to the man. "Darling, I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, leaning over to press a peck against his lean cheek.
"Do I know you?" he asked, coldly.
Brown eyes snapped above a line of freckles on the bridge of her nose, reflecting her displeasure. "I'm a little late and this is how you act? You're the one who's usually late," she huffed. "I think I deserve a better reception, as the dolphin left the ocean to visit the scarecrow in a dry and foreign land."
"Ah, well. Then we'll just have to talk about cabbages and kages," he replied. His visible eye narrowed to a point just above her hairline. "I think I preferred your natural color."
She touched her hair self-consciously. "I would have liked being a redhead, but the girls in the office thought blondes have more fun. Besides, all the women in this city have a touch of illusion. Haven't you noticed? For a man, though, it would be very noticeable."
"How are the children?"
"Whirlpool is off with your pervy great-uncle but his letters indicate he is well. Blossom is working at the hospital and the discipline seems to suit her. As for Fanboy, I can't tell. Nobody knows," her voice faded, the brown eyes clouding over. Then she resolutely pushed forward. "If you're talking about my day job, it's been lovely," she said. "Or as lovely as 30 little monsters trapped in a room all day can be. Because of the shortage, the board hired some extra instructors for the literature and mathematics and general ed courses. They're not trained in any special techniques. I'm not entirely happy, but it did allow me to see you." She gave an exaggerated wink, long dark lashes skimming downward.
Despite himself, Kakashi could feel a surprised chuckle pulled from him.
"How are you?" she asked.
"The job's gone on too long." He tapped the newspaper impatiently. "No details of importance."
"Oh!" she gasped, digging out a bundle of papers and a single gaudy shopping bag out of her many and placing it next to him.
"What's that?"
"Just some garbage. I had to exchange something." She looked embarrassed, and pushed the little pile of papers off to one side. "Anyway, Granny says hello, and sent along a present. Here. Happy birthday, darling. And I must run." She blew him an air kiss and vanished in a whirl of perfume and parcels, abandoning him with the trash.
Leisurely, he finished his drink and paid his tab. Ruefully, he noticed that she had taken his newspaper and left him with the brightly colored bag. He dumped the receipts into the bag and stepped out into the street. He knew that once he got back to his room, he'd find the changed mission parameters detailed in precise code on one of the slips of paper, and bundles of weapon summoning scrolls in the bag. Thanks, Iruka. A corner of his mouth quirked upwards. Darling.
Comfort
:
"I've been wanting to talk to you - you've been pushing yourself since Sasuke's desertion. You need to rest. Because he left doesn't mean you failed - and it doesn't mean that I failed - or anyone on your team failed. Naruto and I talked before he left. And you should - whenever you're ready. There is no shame in reaching out, Kakashi-san." The brown eyes were soft with concern, tracking across Kakashi's face, searching.
"You're just mad because I brought back something for Tsunade and nothing for you," Kakashi croaked, gamely.
"Oh, Kakashi," Iruka murmured, smoothing the blankets over the jounin. He sighed as he stood. He placed a cup of tea and some soup on a tray and set that in front of Kakashi. "Eat. Drink."
After Kakashi ate, Iruka spoke. "There was a sedative in the tea - but you probably guessed that. Sleep. The pain - it won't go away, but you'll feel better. Tsunade will want to speak with you once you're rested."
And surprisingly, Kakashi did. As he slid into darkness, he murmured, "I might - Iruka - good to talk to you." He tried to make a reaching motion with his hand, but it faded into a twitch.
Return
:
The following fortnight, Kakashi returned to the missions desk, his manner the same as ever.
Iruka, smiling, handed him a scroll. "Kakashi-san, how are you?"
"Iruka-sensei, I am well. Better than the last time you saw me."
"Are you back to normal, then?"
"Yes. Quite." Kakashi perused the details of the mission. Then he looked up. "Would you like me to bring you back something?"
A flicker of something in Iruka's eyes. "You know what I want."
"Still holding out for that ring, ey, Iruka-sensei? Gold was it? Or brass? Maybe someday I'll remember." And he strolled out of the office, humming.
Warning
:
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked at Iruka, his dark eyes deeply set in his lined face. Suddenly, he asked, "How tall are you?"
"178 centimeters," Iruka replied, hoping he remembered correctly from his last physical.
"And your arm reach?"
"68 centimeters - shoulder to fingertip."
"How wide do you think this desk is, Iruka?"
The young man eyed the desk. "A meter?"
"Close enough. The mission desk is ninety centimeters wide. It's a stretch for almost anyone. Sometimes, people will try to reach out to you and you won't meet them. Sometimes, you will reach out to them and they won't meet you. It is always best to meet in the middle. The problem you'll most likely have, Iruka, is that you will reach out and they will not. Your job, your duty, your greatest safety - is to stay on this side of the desk. Their job is to stay on that side of the desk. Remember that."
"Oh," said Iruka, trying to absorb this bit of wisdom.
"The problem with ninjas, and most especially with Kakashi, is that he doesn't think he needs to ever reach, or meet even in the middle. None of us should have to reach out all the time."
.
.
::Sometimes, the ones closest to us are the ones farthest away::
A/N -
Thinking about Kakashi as James Bond (007), and Iruka as Moneypenny. I would have done a whole cross-over except that I have no idea who would be Q. This was inspired by reading that James has a three-inch long, thin vertical scar on his right cheek (while Kakashi's is on his left cheek).
"in Moonraker, Special Branch Officer Gala Brand thinks that Bond is "certainly good-looking . . . hair falling down over the right eyebrow... But there was something a bit cruel in the mouth, and the eyes were cold." - (wikipedia)
Yes, I made up the insignia on the flak jacket - how else are you supposed to know status if you don't know the person?
As for the vodka, I've read a mixology article that indicated shaking the vodka would bruise it, and ruin the flavor. So there, Ian Fleming.