A/N: I've recently become a bit infatuated with the idea of a Kibasaku pairing. This will be another multichapter fic which I will be working on in conjunction with Languid. Reviews are welcomed! And I obviously do not own Naruto or these characters.

Intro.

Fancy Meeting You Here.

Chardonnay.

Frankly, she'd grown tired of sake, and in doing so, she'd felt tired of nearly everything else. The endless rounds of hospital, mission, debrief, refereeing her teammates, Ino's gossip, training, meals, sleep.

She just needed something to be different.

Despite her near perfect chakra control, despite her status in the village as Tsunade-sama's apprentice, regaled as the up-and-coming Legendary Sannin's alternate, should she ever falter, despite the fact that her skills were rapidly approaching equality with her shisou's, if not surpassing them...

She was unhappy.

This was nothing new, really.

The pink-haired, green-eyed medic-nin was used to feeling inadequate. In fact, it seemed to be par for the course, having come from the soon-to-be-legendary Team 7, lead by one Copy-Ninja Hatake Kakashi, including The Kyuubi Jinkuuriki Uzumaki Naruto, the defective Uchiha Sasuke, last to bear his famous bloodline trait, and eventually including both Sai, of ROOT, and Yamato, of the first Hokage's genetics. That left her. Haruno Sakura. Queen of Not Quite Not Measuring Up.

In her own mind, she was like a footnote on her otherwise extraordinary team's legend.

The bar offered a variety of western-style alcoholic beverages. And countless evenings spent with her shishou had both built her alcoholic tolerance and her curiosity. Tonight was an example in the purest sense. She wanted to be drunk. But not in the usual way. She had even selected a bar that she knew was not generally frequented by her usual company. A few blocks south from the regular hangouts, this place was a civilian establishment.

A high-end civilian establishment.

The kunoichi sighed as she reviewed the beverage list one last time. Hadn't Ino mentioned that she'd had far-Western grape-wines before? And that Chardonnay was particularly good? Something about it being aged in oak barrels... well, that sounded plenty good enough for her.

"A glass of the Mer Soliel, please?"

She hoped she hadn't completely mangled the pronunciation. The bartender seemed to immediately know what she'd meant however, so that fear was quickly assuaged.

She sighed.

The barkeep returned, poured her a large glass of the golden liquid, and smiled at her. She returned the gesture, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. Too many heavy thoughts clouded her ability to be sincere.

She raised the glass to her lips, taking a long and full drink.

She sighed again. Ino was right. It was lovely.

Burying herself in the oaky taste, she tilted her head back, allowing the wine to drench her parched mouth and throat, and replaced the elegant glass on the cocktail napkin before her.

She hummed to herself in appreciation.

"Chardonnay, Sakura? I thought you were more of a sake girl," chuckled the the tall, slightly disheveled brunet settling into the seat beside her. His brown almond eyes sparkled with mirth, and he winked at her saucily, grinning with those elongated canines of his.

He gestured to the bartender, attracting his attention, and ordered a draft beer for himself.

His presence was warm, familiar, though they hadn't seen one another in months. Sakura allowed herself to check him casually in her peripheral vision. He looked tired, worn a bit thin. His broad frame had always been muscular, but now it appeared leaner, less brutish. His tan skin was a hint more sallow than she remembered, and the medic in her wondered if he looked this way because of a rough mission, or whether it was from drinking too much. He'd always had a reputation for being inclined to hard drinking, particularly since he had joined ANBU. But he was drinking beer, not hard liquor. Sakura knitted her brows together and sighed, taking another sip from her glass of wine.

"So," he smiled, turning his attention to her, beer in hand. "What brings you to this fine establishment, Haruno? This is more of a civilian hang out, typically, you know."

"Ano... sick of the other places, I suppose. I was looking for something... different, I guess?" she swirled her wine in its glass absently. "I am in a rut. Ino mentioned the wine here was good."

"So you came to a civilian hangout to drink alone?" There was amusement in his voice, but there, around the eyes, she could detect something else. Concern?

"Ah, but I'm not drinking alone, am I?"

"No. You aren't." His nose twitched. He cocked an eyebrow.

"And what are you doing in a fancy civilian bar straight after a mission, Inuzuka?" she retorted, suspecting his incredibly sensitive nose had just detected something she really would have preferred it hadn't.

He smirked.

"What, indeed," he replied knowingly.

"Baka," she mumbled.

He shrugged.

She turned back to her glass, frustrated. Well, Inuzuka Kiba, fellow ninja and handsome bastard had just thrown a big fat wrench in her plans for the evening. Judging by that nose twitch and smirk, he was well aware of it, too. Damnit. She took another long sip of her drink. This evening was shot to hell. She may as well attempt to salvage it somehow. She looked up, caught the bartender's eye, and tapped the rim of her glass barely, indicating her desire for a refill.

As he approached, she let her eyes sweep his form.

Civilians.

Nope.

Ino had mentioned that they were ideal for Sakura's purposes. Discreet. Harmless. Not as likely to be hyper-aware of her superhuman strength and genjustu abilities, not expecting her to do tricks in the bedroom like a trained seal.

Easily pleased, easily seduced.

It was a shame, then, that no matter what level of physical attractiveness they possessed, they were always just too soft for her.

Even the most delicate of shinobi radiated something infinitely more masculine, and Sakura had enough trouble not feeling like a mannish brute during intimacy.

Truth be told, she was far from it.

However, there were expectations.

Intimidation.

It was hopeless.

She was unhappy.