So it's been a week since I've posted this. I swear, I just have too much fun writing this. I'm so happy you guys like this story, it makes me happy and even amazed to see how many people are fans of this pairing. I shall try not to disappoint you. Those of you I have successfully converted to this pairing, welcome back.

"It doesn't make you look any tougher, you know," came a deep baritone from behind her.

Twirling around, the young medic looked reproachfully to the man leaning against the doorframe casually, arms crossed over his chest doing nothing to hide his muscles. His mesh shirt actually emphasized his toned chest and his pants, if she dared admit it to herself, showed off his amazing arse. What a specimen of man.

"I know," she replied, taking a roll of gauze from a cupboard. "But I happen to look good in it and, while it does look good on you, you look awesome without it. Have you seen the number of stares you attract from my female coworkers these days?" she retorted, eyebrow raised.

He chuckled deeply.

"Besides, while it doesn't replace you, it's better than nothing and it helps me sleep, so you won't take it away from me, right?" she asked with brilliant emerald puppy eyes.

He looked at her impassively.

"You're still better off in a white coat than my black leather coat," he replied, though he couldn't help but feel content that at least the fact that it was his coat that she looked amazing in deterred most men from approaching her. "You're supposed to be an angel of life, not of death."

"Mhm," she hummed. "Anyway, what did you come for? If it's your coat, I can give it back to you–"

"Keep it. And if it weren't for me, you never would eat, would you? Come on, we're having dinner now, so leave your rolls of bandages, they'll still be there when you come back."

Looking at the duo walk off into the sunlit street, many nurses sighed.

"If it weren't for Morino-sama, who knows what would have become of her?"

"She always waits for him to come pick her up to eat. I even heard that she makes him a bento when he warns her that he won't be able to pick her up."

"What an unusual friendship," commented a third nurse. "They're so…different! He's all dark and scary and Haruno-sama is so light and happy!"

"You're new, aren't you?" noted a medic. "If not, you would've known that before Morino-sama forcefully pulled her out of her workaholic tendencies, she was unhappy and everything."

"Hey, you think they're sleeping together?"

They took a seat in one of their usual restaurants, sitting in a booth in the back that gave Ibiki a perfect view of the whole room. She didn't bother to sit next to him, knowing that if ever there was any danger, he would warn her beforehand and protect her if necessary.

Nowadays, people were used to them walking to a restaurant at noon, her often almost skipping a foot or two in front of him as he watched her with his black eyes. However, being used to it didn't mean they understood it, but no one dared to ask them, either one being quite frightening in their own respect.

They ordered the usual, a large plate of various sushi accompanied with green tea, and lapsed into a comfortable silence occasionally punctuated by small conversation.

"I would have eaten even if you hadn't come for me," remarked Sakura as she took a tuna nigiri.

"Sure you would have," replied the imposing man. "Do remind me why you were still at work instead of filling your empty stomach. Or is it that you were waiting for me?"

"Git," she muttered under her breath, wanting nothing more than to wipe his damn smirk off his face. Her eyes widened as he reached for a sashimi. "Hey! Don't take that! It's mine!"

He quirked an eyebrow, his chopsticks firmly holding the morsel.

"Grow up, Haruno."

"Don't take that condescending tone with me!" snapped Sakura as she swung her chopsticks at his to dislodge them. Unfortunately, he had anticipated the move and snapped her chopsticks away. A chopsticks war ensued, neither one backing down as they snapped, twirled and swept around and above the coveted piece of rice and fish.

"You sure are competitive over a simple piece of sushi," remarked Ibiki in his dry tone.

"Of course! That's the last salmon sashimi, and you know it full well, you smug bastard," raged the woman, her eyes full of fire.

Suddenly, lifted by a sharp movement, the morsel swept through the air.

"You should get angry more often," said Ibiki, pinning her in place where she was, halfway off her seat and over the table, like him, with his dark gaze. "It makes you look like a wildcat."

So fast she couldn't stop him and before she could retort, he snaked a hand behind her head and brought her head to him, planting his lips over hers in a dominating alpha-male movement. Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

He calmly sat back down, bringing to his mouth the salmon sashimi that he had caught in midair while distracting her.

"Delicious," he growled darkly, making her face flush. Was he talking about the sushi or her lips? She couldn't be sure, but his tone sent a flash of heat coursing through her body.

"That was sneaky," she reproached him when she sat down and regained her wits.

"I'm a shinobi," he answered matter-of-factly. The fact that it actually made sense was infuriating.

"Next time, I'll just stick my chopsticks in your arm," she muttered mock-angrily as she watched him swallow the salmon sashimi.

He rolled his eyes.

"One more scar won't hurt me, Haruno," he told her.

She sniffed at him, choosing not to dignify him with a retort. She picked a sea urchin nigiri deliberately, knowing it was his favourite, and gobbled the sushi, watching in satisfaction as he frowned minutely.

"Just so you know, you'd better be paying, or the next time you go to the hospital after a mission, I'll carve my name on your ass."

He chuckled warmly.

The sight of the two ninja at the civilian restaurant was not new, but it was slightly disturbing. The older, scarred shinobi was always accompanied by the young, beautiful kunoichi. New patrons always face-planted at that, wondering what such a sweet, innocent-looking young woman could find in a brute like him. However, after observing the pair, they never failed to realize that her temper matched his and that she was just as dangerous as him, if not more because nobody expected a pink-haired lady to be potentially lethal. As they left the restaurant together, many sighed in relief as no damage was caused by the dangerous pair, other than mild psychological shock in sensitive people.

Well, I await your reviews.