I don't own Naruto! Happy now!
Prologue
Eight months ealier . . .
Kyuubi Lancaster sat in the cafe of a large bookstore in Phoenix, Arizona, waiting for the half brother he had never met. A chaotic mix of anticipation, anxiety, longing and uncertainty churned his insides to such an extent that he could not drink the green tea he had ordered.
Even if he had not seen photographs and read articles about Naruto Glazebrook and his wealthy, influential family in the Arizona newspapers and house-and-garden magazines, he would have recognized him the moment he walked through the door.
It certaintly wasn't because there was much in the way of family resemblance, Kyuubi thought. At six feet four and a half, he was accustomed to having to look down, not only to most women but to many men as well. He was aware that, like Napoleon, he sometimes tended to overcompensate.
Friends and those who were fond of him called him fierce. Those who were not friends tended to go for other descriptors: difficult, stubborn, assertive and bossy. On occasion the words "bastard" and "ballbuster" had been used, often by men who had discovered the hard way that he was not as easy to get into bed as they had assumed.
Naruto was his polar opposite: short and skinny with a nest of sunrays, challenging the desert sun and a distinct touch of a very expensive salon. His features had a lovely tan, and patrician symmetry that gave him an elegant/rogue profile.
But what one noticed most of all was his style. His half brother did not have merely good taste in clothes, jewelry and accessories Kyuubi thought, he had exquisite taste. He knew the precise colors to wear to enhance his natural good looks, and he had an unerring eye when it came to detail.
Until his recent marriage to Kabuto McAllister(a/n In my world men have a right to marry), Naruto had been one of the most successful interior designers in the Southwest. Things had changed dramatically in the past few months. The once thriving business had fallen apart.
Naruto hesitated briefly in the doorway of the cafe, searching the crowd. Kyuubi started to raise a hand to get his attention. there was no reason why Naruto should recognize him. After all, he had never had his work featured in glossy, high-end magazines and he'd certainly never had his wedding photographed for the society pages of a newspaper. He'd never had a wedding. But that was another issue.
To his amazement, Naruto stopped scanning the room the instant he noticed Kyuubi sitting in the corner. He started through the maze of tables.
My brother, Kyuubi thought. He knows me, just as I would have known him, even if I had never seen a photograph.
When Naruto drew closer Kyuubi saw the barely veiled terror shimmering in his deep, blue eyes.
"Thank God you came," Naruto whispered. A squeeze toy he carried shook a little in his tightly clutched fingers.
Kyuubi's anxiety and uncertainty vanished in a heartbeat. He was on his feet, hugging Naruto as if they had known each other all their lives.
"It's all right," he said. "It's going to be okay."
"No, it's not," Naruto whispered, tears drowning the words. "He's going to kill me. They all say he's the perfect husband."
"I believe you," Kyuubi said.