Disclaimer- I don't own Naruto.
Ibiki/Tenten. Enjoy. :)
Tenten fumbled with her weapon, silently cursing. She hated the new code that the Fifth was instituting. Honestly, why would the entire weapons base need to be restructured? It was a pain in the ass to figure out, and the new dimensions of the weapons made her mess up and look like a complete novice.
A little while away she heard someone laugh. Recognizing that laugh as one of accomplishment, she decided to stomp over there and demand whoever was so happy to help her figure out how to work this damn shuriken.
Brushing a few bushes aside, she tromped through the forest, emerging in a small clearing where some soon-to-be-unlucky shinobi was training.
"If you think laughing so loudly is polite, why don't you show me how to use the damn things?" she grumbled.
"Your argument is invalid." replied a gravelly, deep voice from behind her. She turned around to see Ibiki Morino, the head of the T&I department, smirking at her. She willed herself not to stare at his uncovered head, which was even scarier up close. He was sweating heavily through his black standard uniform shirt, and Tenten caught a glimpse of his scarred hands as he folded his thick, muscular arms. They were calloused and hard, with pink burn scars enveloping them, the slight indents where fingers had been broken or cut off, the palms covered with crisscrossing cut marks.
"Er..." said Tenten awkwardly.
"You asked me to teach you to properly use a weapon? Isn't that a little sad, considering that you're supposedly a weapons' master?"
"Just the new ones..." muttered Tenten. "They're made differently..."
He put his hand out expectantly. "Hand it over. I'll take a look."
She placed her shuriken in his scarred, scarred, hands.
He places his fingers in the holes and twirled them experimentally. "They're made for someone with a large build for you. They go off a little to the left, don't they?"
"Yeah." admitted Tenten.
"Then aim a little to the right. Or get new weapons. I'd recommend the latter."
"I'm sort of on a tight budget right now..." She had been so dedicated to training lately that she hadn't taken a mission in over two weeks.
Ibiki chuckled. "Value the time you can take missions. Someday you may find yourself with an unbearable desk job."
"Like you?" grinned Tenten, unable to help herself.
"That's right. You'll even have the male equivalent of Anko there to annoy you and prevent you from getting your work down."
"Male version of Anko...wouldn't that just be Naruto?"
Ibiki thought about it. "Have a fun future."
"I wouldn't take a desk job if you paid me."
"Technically, they would be paying you."
Tenten punched Ibiki in the arm playfully, then thought about who she just punched in the arm and nearly died.
"Would you like to train?" asked Ibiki.
"Huh?"
"You need real practice with these shuriken, not just throwing them at a tree stump."
"What's in it for you?" smirked Tenten.
"I find it difficult to find a sparring partner, for some reason."
"Really?" replied Tenten sarcastically. "You have such an eclectic personality."
"You make me sound like an electric socket."
"Training with an electric socket is better than training with the kings of youth."
"I could never comprehend how you put up with them. I can't be in a room with them for ten minutes."
"You get used to them after the first couple of years." Tenten fell into a sparring stance, running her eyes up and down Ibiki's frame to check his defenses and his position...and couldn't help but notice how his shirt clung to him, making the rock-hard abs underneath very visible. She saw the broad, muscular arms hidden under his shirt and how his legs were so very thick, how muscular they would have to be, if only she could just see them...face-wise, he wasn't unattractive...she liked his strong jaw-line and tan skin...the scars didn't detract from his appearance to her.
"Are you finished?" asked Ibiki, amused. "Can we start now?"
Tenten blushed, feeling like the creepiest fangirl ever. "Anytime, old man."
She grinned at the surprise in his face before attacking viciously, flinging several of her new shuriken, adjusting for the curve.
They sparred long and hard. Tenten knew that Ibiki was pulling his punches slightly, which pissed her off. She was eighteen. She was a jonin now. There should be no reason for him to hold back. She fought all the harder to show him that she didn't need babying. He responded with a ferocity that almost made her with she hadn't gotten mad, because she quickly found herself struggling to keep up. On te other hand, she was glad he'd respected her wishes to go full out against her. That was what sparring was for.
When they finally stopped she found herself breathing ahrd and completely exhausted. She was glad to see that Ibiki looked the same. He had already been training for a while when she'd started talking to her there, but she's like to pretend that he was sweating because of her.
"I am." said Ibiki smugly. She stared at him.
"You knew what I was thinking?" asked Tenten incredulously.
"Call it a trick of the trade." He wiped his forehead, and Tenten smirked.
"Guess it's nice not to have hair get in your eyes, huh?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I think it's better to have hair. I'd be willing to put up with the mild inconvienence."
"Oh, really?"
"Besides, when I did have hair, I basically looked the same. It was very short."
"Good," said Tenten, wrinkling her nose. "I hate it when shinobi have long hair. It's ridiculous. Sakura and Ino thought it looked so cool, but it just got in the way. And Neji? I want to take shearing scissors to his head. Unless you can tie a good bun it's not worth it."
"I agree." hummed Ibiki, pulling his Chunin vest on over his shirt despite the sweat stains covering it.
"What, are you going back to the office?" teased Tenten.
"Probably," conceded Ibiki. "I have a lot of work to do. Although..."
"Although?"
"I could probably postphone it if you' ben willing to go to lunch with me."
Tenten grinned. "Are you paying?"
"It's the gentlemanly thing to do." said Ibiki.
"Damn. I wish I knew a gentleman."
She hooked her arm around his, ignoring the post-workout man smell. He smelled better than Guy did after a workout. Hell, dead pigs covered in manure smelled better.
Couldn't figure out a place to end it...this is good enough. I hoped you enjoyed it! :)