Onto my second story on here so fast, now that's a surprise. I first posted this on my deviantart account because back then FF was stoopid and awkward and wouldn't let me upload. ;_;

I wrote this around 2 years ago now, agh how time flies. I read through it again recently and what I once thought was great was riddled with mistakes. Dx

This version is a lot different from the first version I uploaded onto deviantart. I'm not going to delete the first version because I'm still not overly happy with the finished result. =/

Again R+R is greatly appreciated. Thank you! =)

"Sasori-sama!"

The familiar chime of the former kunoichi reached the puppet master's ears just as he had begun working on his latest project - a pretty little thing from the village of Rain. He looked up in time to see a flash of pink wobble un-steadily past him, seating herself beside his work place. Seeing a gentle frown beginning to lodge itself on her serene face he smirked. She still needed to get used to her wooden body, something Sasori told her would take a while with un-repressed glee. Sakura doubted that she ever would. The immortal puppet looked down to her with the slightest hint of a smile playing on his cold lips. Ever since she had woken up from the arduous transition process she had astounded him; surrounded by criminals and murderers she still managed to retain her mannerisms and personality. Truthfully, Sasori had expected her to be a broken doll after the procedure, but she had managed to become the original, standing apart from all of his other instruments, just as he had intended. Beside him she sighed forcefully, screaming for his attention. Letting down the knife he had carefully been handling he turned, dead-pan eyes boring into her.

"What is it, Sakura?" He didn't use a prefix at the end of her name.

"Politeness may be desired from a master", he had told her "but I don't feel that way. I shall only call you Sakura, and you may do the same."

He had said this in the twisted hope she would fall for him while still a 'newborn', but she had defied him, calling him san then moving to sama, thrashing his plans to take things further than the master and servant relationship.

"Well," She began, pushing her legs out straight. She wiggled her toes slightly, trying to remember how it had felt when she had flesh. She squinted and wrinkled her nose, momentarily distracted by the effort. Sasori thrummed the knife on his work table impatiently. "Why does Deidara-san call you Danna, Sasori-sama?"

It was something she had been curious about for a while now, more so since she had learned that Deidara was in fact a man. She was reluctant to admit to herself that she had been jealous of him calling Sasori this, for she thought how he called him Danna implied that they shared a romantic relationship of some sort.

My husband, Sasori.

She knew that they shared no relationship of the sort and that Deidara's mere presence was a hindrance to the puppet master. She was also aware that her jealously stemmed from the fact that she desired Sasori's attention to be directed to herself. She had gone so far as surprising the him with surprise kisses and light embraces whenever she encountered him, anything to keep his attention on her for just a little bit longer. She glanced up at him, and seeing him still contemplating on how to answer she averted her attention to her wooden toes again, seeing them struggle with effort to move. Her curiosity had led her to ask Deidara the same question, and as frustrating as the artist was he gave her the most nonsensical answer he could muster.

"Because Danna is Danna, un," He exclaimed, looking up at her lazily, then glancing back down to his newest 'experiment' - she didn't bother to ask what it was, for fear of him taking it as an insult and whining to Sasori yet again. She stalked off in annoyance, not bothering to look back.

"I don't know," He answered truthfully, retrieving her from her reverie. "Deidara is…" he paused to choose his words, "quite odd. However my strength outclasses his own, so that could be it. You should ask him."

Sakura gave a short laugh at this, to which Sasori looked at her quizzically. Ignoring his probing eyes she returned her attention back to her piggies, which seemed the easiest to manipulate. Her tongue stuck out from the corner of her mouth as a habit of concentration and on realising this she blushed, wondering if a pink hue would actually appear on her wooden cheeks.

"So, he respects you, then?" She looked up at him, momentarily forgetting the task of operating her body.

"Hhm," Was all he said, averting his attention back to his latest puppet. "Why do you ask?"

Sakura paused at this, avoiding his gaze and contemplated making clay ash trays with Deidara.

"Sakura," He said, warningly it seemed, and she couldn't help but look at him with a pout akin to a scolded child.

"Well," She began, shrugging, anything to make it seem as if it didn't bother her. One ability she wished to acquire was how to keep a poker straight face like Sasori was so frequently seen presenting. She sighed, realising there was no way to avoid her inevitable answer.

"It's because you're my master, Sasori-sama. I want you to myself."

She flinched at her own boldness. Sasori let his gaze drift down to her again, silently amused by this sudden declaration. He had expected something entirely different - perhaps something childish, like a jealous rivalry between herself and the clay master. He let out a chuckle at the image of the children fighting over his affections.

"And why," He started, leaning down to cup her right cheek in his hand, "is Sakura-chan being such a selfish little girl?"

He was teasing her she realised, he knew very well and was loving it. His arrogance knows no bounds. She didn't answer him, choosing instead to play along with this little game. She wouldn't allow him to toy with her like such a naïve little girl. She was made as he was for a reason. She let her eyes drag slowly up to him, half-lidded, fluttering sensuously. Flirtatiously. Making the transition from girl, to doll, to woman. He smirked at her actions, slowly removing his hand from her cheek, dragging his fingers along the fine wood of her delicate features. Retaliating in this dangerous game. She sighed involuntarily, conceding defeat.

"Because," She said suddenly, grabbing his hand as he began to ascend, "Sasori is my Danna."

She stood, bringing her face close to his, felt his warm breath slowly fan her face, sending shivers down her spine.

"And I want him to treat me as such."

He smiled at this, leaning in to kiss her softly, to which she hungrily agreed.

My master, Sasori.

It was a performance worthy of praise the puppet master admitted, boldly letting his hands travel along the girl's small frame. He looked forward to future games such as this. The kunoichii was proving to be a worthy little partner. 'Always saying what I want to hear', he thought, smirking against her lips as he knew she only said such things to get what she wanted. 'Such a cunning little girl…'

He smiled, brushing his hand against her hip, causing her to giggle in his touch.

And that's why she's mine.