Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Little Death, or Details in the Fabric.


Fabricate

by Creign

The bar felt mellow and quiet that night, a foil to the neighborhood dance clubs. At that time of night, the only remaining customers were wasted on alcohol and straddling the line between consciousness and blissful oblivion. Here was a place where the drinkers came looking for an escape.

Sakura took another deep gulp of the bottle in her hands. Her eyes drifted to the sole musician strumming out an acoustic riff on his guitar. He was singing too, soft melodies that threatened to lull her to sleep.

Your cry for inspiration

never reaches ears on distant stars,

and every night our lonely planet

slides across the universe

None of us are strangers anymore.

Her gaze slid from the musician to the man hunched four seats to her left, nursing a drink that smelled of hard alcohol. He had been downing shots like water all night, and from the looks of it, was a quite a bit past tipsy. She took gulp of her drink, which actually was water, and frowned. She needed to stay sober for later, but that didn't mean she needed to watch him drink to death.

Originally intending to keep her incognito role for a little longer, she couldn't stop herself from finally rising when his hand gestured for another refill. The old grubby bartender approached with the dark, glass bottle in his hand and poured him some more. She rearranged the brown strands over her face and, heart in her throat, approached Sasuke.

How she and he had ended up in the same remote village in the same bar at the same ungodly hour, she blamed entirely on Karma. Regardless, she wasn't about to let this opportunity slip from grasp just because they used to be teammates.

Placidly walking towards him, she saw his eyes, dulled by alcohol and half-mast with exhaustion, shift. He made no move to get up, a testament to how much he had drunk.

The Sasuke she knew would have been alerted to her presence the instant she stood.

He raised the shot glass to his lips a final time and drained it. Then with some effort, he sat up from his slouched position. He leaned over the edge of the stool dangerously, and Sakura caught him just in time with two palms flat against his back.

He finally turned toward her and she her throat close, intimidated by his presence.

He looked so different now, and yet he looked the same. Physically, still the same black haired, pale skinned, man. Mentally, still the lost boy who had been through too much in too little time.

She felt his gaze slide from her face to her feet. She shuddered, because it was hot and it was cold and it was still Sasuke. Nostalgia gripped her.

Eyes that she hadn't realized she'd closed opened in time to catch his wistful smile, lopsided and curving, and she knew he was drunk. Or smug.

The realization that he might have seen through her disguise shook her like cold water. What if he was faking his inebriation, and he had already seen through her civilian henge? He would kill her, plain and simple. He had no need for herds of ANBU following his trails that she was sure to lead them to.

Carefully guarding her emotions, she met his gaze again, only to realize he had been staring at her, and rather intensely.

Unsure of what to say, she greeted, "Hey," and gave him a hesitant smile. Crap. She'd totally blanked out. Even if Sasuke'd thought she was a civilian, he'd want to know why she was steadying him on his chair and talking to him and approaching him in general.

Strangely, he sighed then grinned slightly. "Alright," he said and threw some money onto the bar for his drinks. She noticed that his pocket jangled quite a bit, as if full of coins. She didn't doubt that he had been doing well for himself outside of Konoha, but she never expected for him to be doing better than the rest of them in the current recession.

He stood up and she stepped back. Seeing her gaze lingering on his pocket, he asked "How much?"

"Huh?" She blinked up in confusion, still caught in her moment.

"How much do you want?" His cloudy, drunken eyes cleared for a moment in impatience. He drew closer to her, height intimidating, staring her down. She'd forgotten how tall everyone'd grown.

Eyes the color of rain bore into hers and he smiled again. Blankly, she wondered if he was going for some kind of record, or if he was a happy drunk. Sasuke, happy drunk. There was a laugh.

Suddenly, she felt knuckles grazing over her exposed collarbone, and she drew back immediately.

"What's the matter? You want pay first?" Sasuke murmured lowly against her hair.

Belatedly, Sakura realized that he thought she was a whore, preying on drunk men at the dead of night. After all, loose women were common occurrences on villages like these. For a moment, anger coursed through her at the degradation, she was no common slut! How dare he, but her anger cooled when she met his eyes again.

Indignation was replaced with fear soon; she had no idea of Sasuke's alcohol tolerance. If he'd drunk enough to not even see through a simple henge (to have delusions that a woman dressed like her was a common whore!), he could be on the edge of consciousness. Her medic side worried about the immense possibility of alcohol overdose and black-out. A hunter-nin she was not, but common sense dictated that if the Uchiha Sasuke laid unconscious in the street, most ANBU or even bounty hunters would jump at the chance to kill him and bring his body in.

So swallowing her pride, telling herself it was for the sake of her teammate, she played the part of the oldest female career in history, prostitution.

"Depends," she said in what she hoped was a professional voice, "on where."

He stepped closer still, and slid his hand to the dip of her waist. He dropped his head to her ear and whispered huskily, "For you, anywhere. High-classed, aren't you?"

Sakura flushed, and fought the urge to knock his pearly Uchiha whites out. Instead she settled on growling through clenched teeth, "Only the best for priority clients." Her ego was hemorrhaging all over the floor.

He laughed quietly at that and drew back. Sakura was alarmed and dismayed to note that his posture had straightened, and his eyes had cleared. His hand-eye coordination seemed to have returned to him, along with the effortless grace that took her breath away.

Before she could blink, she felt arm around her waist, her gut drop. Their surroundings shimmered, and then faded to black. Alarmed, she realized that he had just casted a teleportation jutsu.

Fear coursed through her again. She had originally planned to knock him out once he lowered his guard, but if he had enough chakra and control left for a teleportation, of two people no less, then…

She had no time to think, because suddenly her world focused again, like a camera lens twisting, and she realized that they had arrived. She didn't recognize the room, or the mountains outside of the windows. She had no way to escape.

Oh god, he might really find out her identity.

Before hysteria could claim her, she took a deep breath and forced herself to think. Logic and reason would save her now. Taking in her surroundings, she realized that they were in a bedroom of sorts. It was extravagant, expensive-looking , but devoid of personal belongings. A hotel room.

Busy drawing her every memory of hotels in the village, she didn't hear him shift. Her breath flew out of her when he pinned her against the pole of the four-poster bed. His chest pressed against hers with each breath, and she realized that they were entirely too close. The situation was rapidly spinning out of her control, whatever control she had left.

She raised her eyes to his in time to watch the onyx irises disappear under pale lids. And then she could see nothing because he had his lips slanted against hers, and she could feel nothing because he had her wrists in his grip.

She also couldn't breath, but that had little to do with the kiss.

His fingers crept into her hair, and Sakura was frozen in the cocktail of emotions that were raging through her.

The moment was broken when she smelled the alcohol on his breath, and she remembered her purpose. Now wasn't the time to melt like putty before him. She squirmed against the grip he had against her hands, and was pleased when he released them in favor of gripping her waist. He worked his jaw against hers softly, and tilted his shoulders to get a better angle.

Determined to stop him now, yet hesitant, she pressed both palms flat against his chest, and told them to push. And push she did- almost pushed him onto the bed. Sasuke quickly regained his balance, and Sakura quickly regained her breath,

He looked at her with confusion, and thinking fast, she plastered a confident smile on her face.

"Working a little fast?" There was a storm inside her ribcage where her heart should have been. Fear, elation, and exhilaration made her eyes shine, but she kept them out of her tone.

Sasuke had just kissed her. Never mind that he was a missing-nin, and that she was strong and had moved on, and that he had just drunk about half a liter of vodka. He had kissed her.

She hadn't planned for it to get this far.

Impatience burned in his eyes, "You'll get your money. Stop struggling," he commanded. And he was on her again.

Touching and heated mouth dancing, he shoved her onto the bed. Sakura immediately jumped up when she felt the mattress against her back, but Sasuke covered her form with his. She felt his mouth against hers, and his jaw forced hers open. Closing her eys, she felt dirty, and used, and she tasted the bitterness of the alcohol and something else on his breath. She turned her head aside, and whispered "Wait… stop, no…" She couldn't get the words out between his kisses. She froze when he suddenly pulled her cloak off, exposing her arms to the cool air. Goosebumps littered her skin immediately. Desperately, she said, "Sasuke, stop."

He froze suddenly. She supposed the alcohol was slowing him down; the powerful nin she known from the soud ruins would have her dead at first suspicion. As of now he was simply looking at her, as though unraveling a mystery. Her gaze held his steadily, waiting for the moment of realization.

His eyes cleared suddenly. "You… you-" but his words were cut off when he lost sensation in his legs and he collapsed onto the bed.

Sakura sighed with satisfaction. Finally. It had taken a while, she was almost scared that he would actually go all the way with her, that the alcohol he had drunk had reacted with the poison in his cup. She withdrew from his paralyzed limbs, and rearranged him on the bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at him. His face was bathed in the moonlight, and his once again cloudy eyes were staring at her.

He murmured something, barely able to get the words out through his frozen jaw. Fighting unconsciousness, he asked, "Are you taking me back... Sakura?"

She stood, stunned. When had he figured out it was her in disguise? Had he known all along that it was her? Then why did he pretend that he thought she was a prostitute?

She was about to ask it of him, but she was too late, he had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Sighing and pulling on her cloack, she looked back at his figure on the bed, almost ethereal in his stillness. A chill ran down her spine when she thought that he looked dead. No matter; she had still accomplished what she needed to do, and she smiled.

Sakura wasn't about to take him back to Konoha, no. They no longer had any use for him, and she figured he was happier as a rouge-nin. Sakura remembered her surprise when she'd realized that it was him who had received the bottle of poisoned liquor she'd placed into the bartender's shelves, but no matter, he would do. He would do very well.

She rummaged through his trousers until she found what she was looking for. She withdrew the pouch, heavy with coins, from the fabric and smiled when she slipped the money into her own cloak.

Jackpot, baby.


A/N: Review, please :D And to my readers, I plan on having the next chapter of Lamiaphobia posted by next week. Hopefully. :)

Yes, I know, shameless pimping of my stories.