Author's Notes: The rating has officially gone up to M.

Once again, a huge, huge thank you to Fallacy/Korina Caffeine and Chaos Dragon.
Here's hoping my other betas don't kill me for being impatient and posting this with only Korina's fixes! crosses fingers

In Your Hands
Chapter 2

OoOoOoO

Sakura wasn't really sure what she had expected them to do with her. Some light torture with a side of interrogation as to Naruto's location, perhaps, or inquiries about Konoha's weaknesses and defenses. Something decidedly not good, that was for certain

So when her bound form was dropped onto a large futon in a dark room and three dangerous men loomed over her with a disturbingly focused intent, she wasn't exactly surprised.

Worried, maybe, that whatever they were after was important enough to skip asking nicely and jump straight into the focused abuse.

Anger was there, because they thought it would actually work on her.

Fear was predominant, though. Fear that they might be right.

All kunoichi received training on how to deal with the mental and physical trauma that they could be subjected to if captured by enemy nin. They'd had guest lecturers of ninja and civilian victims alike. Many carried scars as medals of what they survived. But just as many were empty little shells, a faded memory of what used to be.

What if she wasn't strong enough? What if she broke? Training had stopped short of practical experience; they'd only been ten at the time.

Sakura's hands clenched, carefully manicured nails drawing blood.

Screw that. Haruno Sakura was not a weak little girl that cried at the slightest conflict anymore. She'd studied under and all but surpassed the legendary Tsunade, the Godaime Hokage herself! She could damned well take whatever these bastards could dish out, even if she was terrified.

Fear was a normal reaction to this kind of situation, she reminded herself. She just refused to let it control her. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Zetsu flicked his fingers, and the vines came to life. Sakura's arms were separated from her sides, dragged above her head and held there securely. The rest of the restricting plant shivered then slid and coiled, serpent-like, around her wrists, legs, neck.

Kisame propped one knee on the edge of the mattress and leaned over her. Sakura forced herself to focus on small things, like the odd swirly mineral pattern in the stone ceiling above her.

Or how the vines smelled, oddly enough, like fresh licorice.

Or how the room was silent except for her unsteady breathing.

Or how the missing-nin above her was surprisingly deft at unraveling intricately-knotted obi's.

"Shouldn't we wait for Itachi, un?"

Sakura closed her eyes and ground her teeth behind the gag.

"No. He thinks it's a waste of time."

One less to deal with, at least...

Silk pooled at her sides as the layered kimono was tugged open. She heard Deidara give an amused huff, and was suddenly thankful that she'd decided to wear her usual outfit beneath the formal clothing.

And then her shirt was being unzipped and skirt tugged down low on her hips and she was gagged and they weren't asking her anything--

Kisame straddled her hips and splayed a large hand on her bare stomach, palm centered over her belly button.

Deidara and Zetsu moved suddenly, hands sliding between her breasts and... through her hair?

Sakura growled and bucked, but stilled when a line of thorns appeared against her neck; they retracted when she forced herself to relax. Fighting the urge to boot someone in the face anyway and to hell with the consequences, she instead watched closely as they formed a somewhat familiar series of one-handed seals.

What were...?

A whisper of foreign chakra rippled through her at each contact point.

Oh, no. No, no, no... now she recognized their positioning, the seals-- distantly, she was relieved that Zetsu had chosen crown instead of forehead; she wasn't quite sure how the small chakra focus point beneath the white stage make-up would have reacted to this particular jutsu.

Just to be sure, Sakura focused, then flared chakra in her feet as if she was about to kick through something very, very solid. A chunk of the foreign chakra immediately swarmed around the extra energy; the trio tracked the movement with their eyes.

Escape may have just become exponentially more difficult, but if this was the most... invasive they were going to get, she'd take it. This, at least, was something she could find a way around.

"Smart little kunoichi," Kisame chuckled, then flexed his fingers against her stomach when she released the gathered chakra to circulate through her system. She ignored him as best she could.

"Then you know what this does. Try any ninjutsu or genjutsu, and we will know," Zetsu said calmly. When he continued, it was in a completely different, darker voice. "You would never make it out in one piece."

"Be a good girl, and we won't have to get rough, un." Deidara paused, then shifted his hand to trace the edge of the fabric covering her breasts. "Also, that is the most garish bra I've ever seen. Are you colorblind or something?"

Sakura flushed faintly and shifted a bit to hide a reflexive flinch away from the touch. The orange and purple striped monstrosity had been a very bad gag-gift from Naruto, and while it was ugly as sin, it was actually the most comfortable bra she owned.

Apparently the blond wanted an answer, because he removed her gag and raised his visible eyebrow expectantly. The vines looped around her neck suddenly retreated at a light touch from Zetsu.

Eyeing them warily, Sakura shook her head. Why the hell did he care about her choice of undergarments?

Deidara's nose wrinkled. "Jeeze, you just have bad taste, un?"

This was the big interrogation? Talk about surreal.

Her eye twitched. "It was a gift, so I really don't care what color it is," she ground out.

"Oh? From who, your boyfriend?"

She wrinkled her nose and replied before she could stop herself. "He's just a friend with a weird sense of humor."

"Hmm... do the panties match?" Kisame's fingers dipped beneath her waistband, disturbingly low.

Seeking to distract him, Sakura hunched down as much as the restricting vines would let her, and squeaked out, "Why?"

"Inquiring minds want to know."

"Inquiring minds had better mind their own business before they lose inquiring hands!"

Kisame smirked and shifted said appendages to span her waist, though his thumbs smoothed along the dip of her hip bones in an almost-ticklish circuit. Figuring that was the best she'd get out of him right now, Sakura transferred her glare to Deidara. "That goes for you, too!"

Something mischievous flashed across his face, and then the hand playing with the edge of her bra was instead covering her breast. Something wet and warm that felt distinctly like a tongue curled unerringly around her nipple through the fabric.

Sakura shrieked and bucked, managing to sit up just far enough to head butt the blond, who released her and staggered back clutching at his jaw.

Kisame laughed, though his eyes were fixed firmly on the wet material and what lay beneath. "That's enough, Deidara."

Finding herself closer to the former Mist-nin than she liked, Sakura scowled and brought her bound arms down over her chest, scooting backwards. She bumped into Zetsu, but considering he'd given her enough freedom to hit Deidara and hadn't groped her yet, he was starting to look like the lesser of three evils. When Kisame leaned forward, she planted her feet flat on his chest to hold him back.

Braced between two Akatsuki members with a third rubbing at a blooming bruise on his jaw, she narrowed her eyes and glared between the two she could readily see.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

Kisame's leer was full of sharp teeth and leashed intent, his fingers warm where they curled around her bare ankles. "Well, for starters--"

Only his firm grip kept her from kicking him in the face or somewhere significantly more damaging.

Deidara snickered.

Hands suddenly landed on her shoulders, making Sakura jump; she'd almost forgotten Zetsu was in the room, even when leaning against him. Scary.

She tilted her head back to peer at him warily.

"Patience, Haruno-san."

The scent of licorice was suddenly drowned out by rosemary and poppies. A second later, Sakura felt a small pinprick at her neck and she was overcome by a veritable tsunami of exhaustion. Before she could even think of fighting it, she was asleep.

She never felt the hands carefully repositioning her limp body on the futon, nor the vines once again securing her arms to the sturdy frame at the head of the bed.

The door locked soundlessly as they left.

OoOoOoO

Someone was humming.

It was the first thing Sakura's mind registered as she swam up from the depths of a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

The second was the feeling of someone tugging on her shirt. She peeked discreetly through her lashes, and saw a masked man with wild hair carefully fitting one side of the zip into the slider.

For some reason, she got the impression that if she pulled off the mask he would have his tongue stuck between his teeth in careful concentration far overdone for such a simple task.

"What are you doing?"

The man glanced up at her. "You'll catch cold without your shirt on properly, Sakura-san," he said in a scolding tone. As if her state of undress was actually her fault.

He finally lined up the zipper correctly and drew the slide up to the top of the track at the hollow of her throat, very carefully not touching anything in between.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome!" he said cheerfully. "Are you hungry?"

As if it on cue, her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Sakura blushed faintly and nodded.

He helped her sit up and piled pillows behind her back. "I'm not allowed to untie you, so I'll have to feed you."

Leaning down, he grabbed a tray that had been sitting out of her line of sight and perched next to her with it. Without missing a beat, he performed the standard poison-detection jutsu on the food for her, which revealed that it was clean.

"Sorry if it's a little burned," he said sheepishly, "I'm not a very good cook."

Shaking out a cloth napkin, he draped in across her chest then picked up a bowl of tempura. Far easier than someone wearing gloves should be able to, he snatched up a slightly singed bite of zucchini with the chopsticks and held it up to her mouth. Warily, Sakura accepted it; it was a little bland, but not horrible. Having tasted what Naruto tried to pass off as cooking, she could definitely say she'd had worse.

"Not bad."

The man beamed. "Thank you!"

His cheerfulness was contagious, and Sakura soon found herself smiling a tiny bit. After a few more bites, she managed to find out that his name was Tobi, his favorite color was orange (big surprise there) but he disliked oranges, he all but idolized Zetsu and 'Deidara-senpai,' thought Itachi was 'scary and mean,' and that Kisame was a fun sparring partner when he had the time.

He also refused to tell her why she was there or to untie her, even when she said she needed to use the bathroom.

"I'll have to get Zetsu-san for you, Sakura-san."

He left before she could stop him.

Ten minutes later Zetsu appeared, though Tobi was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Kisame propped a lean hip against the doorframe and watched them intently.

She didn't move when Zetsu approached nor when he bent over her, and was rewarded with a speculative glance as he coaxed the vines from her limbs. She watched with curious interest as they coiled around his arms, then seemed to shrink down into a tightly curled frond in the palm of his hand. He placed it on a small shelf at the head of the bed in a very deliberate movement.

Sakura glanced away and sat up. Kisame appeared next to her and reached across her lap to pick up the length of fabric that had been her obi. She stared at him for a moment when he folded the silk into halves, then quarters.

"Come."

"Where?"

Kisame rolled his eyes. "To your horrible, messy, painful death. Where else?"

If he'd lain the sarcasm on any more thick she could have swam through it.

"Oh, alright then," she retorted, pushing herself to her feet, "Lead the way."

The way, apparently, was down a barren hall, first door on the left.

They entered a small alcove inside, and then Kisame pushed open another door to reveal a large Western-style bathroom. The tub was already filled with gently steaming water, and Sakura could almost hear her sore muscles screaming at her to dive right in.

Kisame suddenly shoved a scroll in her face. She glared at him and grabbed it, recognizing it as the transport scroll that held her clothing and toiletries.

"You have five minutes to get in the tub, and then I'm coming in."

It was more than she'd expected, though she was frankly thankful for even that much time alone. That thought in mind, she had already draped her loose kimono on a provided hanger and was reaching up to undo her hair when her wrist was caught in an unbreakable grip.

"What now?"

"The hair pins go with me."

Sakura stared at him for a moment, then growled. "Fine."

Pulling away, she removed the clips securing her hair, then dropped them, intricate bun and all, into his extended hand.

She smirked at his expression and ran her fingers through her usual shoulder-length locks. "Long hair is impractical on kunoichi."

Turning back to the transport scroll she'd set on a small table, Sakura opened it and began skimming through the contents and pulling out toiletries as well as a change of clothing. "Five minutes?"

"Yes," Zetsu confirmed, startling her again. That man blended into the background far too well.

The two missing-nin stepped back into the front alcove and closed the door.

Wasting no time, Sakura made use of the facilities and undressed, sinking into the steaming bath. She was rubbing a soapy washcloth across her cheek when the door opened again and the former Mist-nin stepped inside.

"Behave, Kisame."

"Yes, yes. I will."

Zetsu left, and then Sakura was wet, naked, and alone in a room with one leering S-class missing nin.

Drawing up her knees, she finished scrubbing the thick stage make-up off her face and neck then rinsed off the washcloth and dunked her head. When she surfaced and wiped the water from her eyes, she discovered that Kisame had moved significantly closer. Specifically, he was crouched right next to the tub at her side, staring at her with those strange, pale eyes.

Reflexively, she jerked back and threw the closest thing to hand at him.

The washcloth impacted wetly against his chest. It stuck there for a moment before slowly sliding down to plop in a soggy pile on the floor.

He didn't move, just continued staring intently at her... shoulder? Sakura's hand automatically went up to cover the lightly bruised bite mark there, but Kisame caught her wrist.

"What-- did you just sniff me?" she asked incredulously. The man had leaned forward and shoved his face against her skin, inhaling deeply. Sakura braced her free hand against his chest and started to push him away, but froze when a low growl resonated through him.

"Who did this?" His lips feathered against her skin when he spoke, making her shiver.

"None of your business!"

He growled again, sharp teeth dangerously close.

"Fine! I was treating an injured friend. He was delirious and thought I was attacking him, so he bit me. What's the big deal?"

"You didn't heal it?"

"I didn't feel like wasting chakra on something that will heal on its own. It's not even deep enough to scar."

"Hmm. Smells like dog."

Sakura blinked. It had, in fact, been Kiba. But... "It happened a week ago!"

The scent of wet fur and pack lay over her skin like a cloying blanket, something Kisame's darker half found extremely offensive. The voice that normally spoke of blood and battle as glorious things was suddenly urging him to drown it out with his own, to bite, claim, fuck. The girl could fight, would give him an exhilarating challenge, maybe even a few new scars to remember her by.

Gritting his teeth, he ignored it and instead picked up the now-cold washcloth from the floor. Dipping it into the warm water, he scrubbed at the mark until her skin was red and he could no longer smell anything but the girl and herbal soap.

"The scent lingers when skin is broken."

"...Ah. Right." Deciding not to pursue that line of questioning, Sakura shook her head. "Can I have my hand back now?" She glanced down at her captured wrist for emphasis. "I am actually capable of bathing myself."

When he finally released her, she scooted to the other end of the large tub and grabbed the shampoo bottle. She cast a glance at him over her shoulder. "Can you not sit so close? It's not like I could drown myself before you got across the room or something."

"Mmm. Don't get any ideas, little kunoichi," he said, then fluidly slid to his feet and strode over to lean against the nearest adjacent wall.

He watched the play of the muscles beneath her smooth skin as Sakura turned her back to him and lathered up her hair, then ducked under to rinse. When she surfaced, water painting trails down her body, Kisame found his pants significantly tighter than when he'd first come in to keep an eye on her and silently cursed himself for removing his loose cloak earlier.

Idly, he wondered how she would react when she realized just how she affected him, if she didn't know already. He hadn't exactly been discreet, though he wasn't as obvious as some shinobi he could name.

Remembering her reaction to Deidara's joke of a come-on, Kisame made a mental note to keep an eye on the blond in case he decided to get back at her.

The strangest things could set Deidara off, but people showing disgust or fear of his bloodline limit was at the top of the list. Said people tended to end up being scattered across the countryside in bloody little bits.

Hearing a splash, Kisame looked up in time to see Sakura wrapping a towel around herself as she stepped out of the bath. It was large, fluffy, blue, and normally his favorite, but right now it was blocking a very nice view and all he wanted to do was rip it to shreds. Damned towel.

The girl pulled the plug on the tub then walked past him to her pile of clean clothing. Kisame sniffed her hair in an exaggerated gesture designed to annoy her. From the look she shot him, it worked.

Purely to annoy him, she tugged on her panties and bra under the towel before dropping it to finish dressing. And then took her time brushing her hair. And putting away her things.

Just as he was starting to move from annoyed into aggressive, Sakura turned back to him. It really was too bad she'd left that towel on the floor and forgotten about it, though, because it immediately tangled around her feet when she got near it.

In the next moment, Kisame had an armful of soft, clean-smelling kunoichi pressed firmly against him, her warm breath puffing against his chest through his thin shirt. It was then that he decided he should start wearing fishnet clothing more often; if Deidara cracked any jokes, he'd just take the little blighter's head off.

Sakura squirmed, and it finally registered that he'd reflexively grabbed her hips and was holding her a good foot off the ground. Her fingernails dug into his skin, breath catching nervously.

When she tried to push away, Kisame lifted her a few inches higher and dropped his head to nose against her shoulder. Satisfied that the dog-scent was no longer on her, he murmured, "Much better," in her ear.

He finally set her back on her feet, but couldn't resist dragging her against him on the way down.

She darted out of reach the second he let go, her face bright red and fists clenched. He was ready to catch a punch, but oddly enough she didn't attack him. Strange girl, Sakura. She almost broke Deidara's jaw for copping a feel, but she didn't retaliate against Kisame?

Maybe she was afraid of him? It certainly wouldn't be the first or last time someone was put off by his... unique physical characteristics or bloodthirsty reputation, well-earned as it was.

But no, it was more than that... she hadn't even twitched at Zetsu's appearance, which was arguably more disturbing than his own. Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, Kisame watched her gather her things.

"Come."

She studiously avoided looking at him as they stepped back into the hall. "You really like saying that, don't you?"

"Something like that," he agreed with a touch of humor. If he hadn't been watching for it, he would have missed the tiny release of tension from her shoulders. Hmm...

It only took a minute to reach her new room. Sakura stepped inside, but Kisame stopped just outside, propping his arm on the top of the doorframe.

"Your other scrolls are on the desk, and there are some books on the shelves. Someone will be checking on you periodically, so try to stay out of trouble."

"Anything else, oh lord and master?" She scowled, glaring.

Catching a tiny movement and a flicker of yellow down the hall, he paused and considered her for a moment. Might as well get it over with when he was there to step in. The girl hadn't seemed to notice anything yet.

Kisame leaned forward slightly and injected a serious note to his voice, though he kept it at the same volume. "Yes. A bit of advice... don't bring up Deidara's bloodline limit around him."

Sakura blinked. "His hands, you mean?"

"Mm. You would do well to not mock him about it. He doesn't react well, and dislikes cleaning up the resulting mess."

She gave him an odd look, then shook her head. "I don't really mind that, so much as the fact that a strange man groped me when I was tied up. How the hell was I supposed to react to that?"

Not expecting such a candid response, Kisame stared at her for a moment. "How indeed." Huffing out a soft chuckle, he shooed her further inside and closed the door behind her.

He felt Deidara approach as he set the locks and wards, and glanced at the other man. "She's an odd one, isn't she?"

The blond didn't reply, though something angry gradually disappeared from his visible eye.

Amused at how quickly the girl had -- however unknowingly -- defused a potentially explosive situation, Kisame turned and walked away. He only relaxed when he felt Deidara do the same.

-tbc-

If you don't review, I don't know if you like it or not... and considering the pairing, that makes me very nervous. Even if it's just a "moar, plskthx", I would appreciate a little input. Please.

Also, I respond to reviews! So if you're curious about something, or wonder what's taking me so long to post (hopefully that won't happen often), I will reply. Rather quickly, too, as I'm online far too often. sheepish grin