Title: Quintessence

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura
Chapter: Two
Rating: K+, Offensive language content
Summary: "Sakura was female. Gaara had a sister. That didn't mean he had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! If it did, this would have happened canon, sheesh.

Chapter Two: Observation

His own insanity was maddening. She took a moment to glare at the mess of now completely unorganized documents on the desk. They'd been in perfect order to submit not five minutes ago. Now it would take her a half an hour to reorganize the pages. Izumo really needed to implement page numbering for loose documents. Damn him. Suna bastard.

Damn the new Kazekage. Damn the shitty treaty that had to be rewritten because of even shittier inter-village protocol. Inner Sakura was currently a raging tower of inferno screaming for blood. Kill, maim!

Her spastically twitching hand reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She huffed, finding some manner of equilibrium in the realization that, in the end, she had gotten her way. Gaara's inner thought process remained a mystery, but there was method in his inductions to what she had been offering. Naruto had explained, ad nauseum, about his maltreatment as a jinchuuriki in Suna, so it shouldn't really have come as a surprise that he'd take her gestures of goodwill with a giant fucking heaping of salt and paranoia.

Not that it didn't piss her off. She kicked the desk. The papers scattered even further. Cursing, she stooped to gather them up. So she'd snapped, and ended up... gaining his trust? Sabaku no Gaara. Hokage-sama had instructed her to set aside her previous experiences as a gesture of goodwill. She'd tried, and in forcing herself to go through the motions of the necessary niceties she'd found herself somewhat amazed at the extent of his self restraint. Up until this latest altercation, more specifically.

Though she wasn't playing info-nin for Hokage-sama, that didn't mean that his psyche didn't interest her. Freakishly enough. Ranting under her breath about death wishes, she tapped the pages level once, then booked out of the room. Ichiraku was waiting.

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Lightly jogging down the packed earth street, the familiar noren cloth of the ramen stand gradually came fluttering into view. Along with a red head. And a blond. It figured. Muttering several choice verbs under her breath, she approached with a minutely slower foot. There sat Gaara, calmy sipping tea with what looked to be curry ramen; Naruto with his usual Naruto 1. special. Quickly placing an order with Teuchi for a miso ramen bowl and tea, she turned to her old teammate.

"Naruto, aren't you supposed to be babysitting some jeweler instead of chowing down?" she questioned, exasperated.

"Nah, I accidentally offed the thief guy when he tried to swipe some stuff out of the room I was sharing with jeweler dude. Trip wires with kunai, eh heh he." One hand behind his head, laughing sheepishly. Like it was completely natural to do in a ninja thief in under five days, with a genin trick. Gaara and Sakura stared. Teuchi set Sakura's miso bowl down on the counter, inadvertently breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah, anyways, Gaara here says that you asked him out to lunch. Sooooo..."

Sakura shot a furtive glance at Gaara, who sat slurping noodles, staring into his bowl. His eyes flitted sideways, snapping to hers. She blinked rapidly, turning to face Naruto as he spoke.

"How come you never ask me out to lunch, ne Sakura-chan?"

"You're not helping me stay sane through treaty revisions, now, are you."

"Awwww. I would, you know that. I'll have to sit through those when I'm Hokage, ne?" he was leaned back, blue eyes starry.

"Still sounds boring though," here he reached up to rub his chin in contemplation, "Besides, I'm your friend so we should get ramen together more anyways. So why not, ne? Ne?"

Her hand spasmed. If he said ne, one more time..

"Ne, Sakura-chan?"

Dust floated through the air in voluminous clouds. It was almost artistic. Naruto lay crumpled neatly behind his stool, limbs still outstretched, though faintly twitching, over an absent bowl. Sakura brought her clenched fist back to the counter. Contemplating her chopsticks, she nodded once, unknowing. She leaned back slightly, face tilted towards the ground.

"Because you're a moron. That's why," she replied sarcastically, eyes rolling, completely unconcerned with his stationary body as she bent to attend her soup. Gaara stared, unmoved by the violent outburst but vaguely confused as to the particular source of the woman's ire. The question? The delivery? Sakura was female. Gaara had a sister. That didn't mean he had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding. He offered up a mental shrug.

Naruto groaned, hauling himself back onto his stool. He coughed, grinning as he stirred the free floating silt that hung in the air. He leaned in to peer past Sakura at Gaara.

"Sakura-chan sure is freakishly strong, ne?"

Sakura's chopsticks grated against each other. Gaara nodded his head, then moved back to slurp some of the erstwhile cooling curry. It really was very good. He raised his own chopsticks in salute to the cook, who smiled amiably in response. The sounds generated by Sakura running through controlled breathing exercises were rather amusing. She eventually seemed to reach a 'safe point' and took another pull on her soup. He wondered if she gambled.

"What do you think Sukimoto's angle is in all this, Gaara? I understand why Tobita is dragging his feet, but... Sukimoto?" she queried, smacking her lips.

Noriaki Sukimoto was one of the chief instigators of the extended treaty negotiations. Along with Hideo Tobita, he'd unreasonably second guessed nearly every debatable decision to the point of banality. Tobita was a young, up and coming council member with a reputation to build. Sukimoto, on the other hand, didn't have such an excuse. He was a senior council member, with good standing with both his fellow council members and the Hokage herself. It was baffling.

"I don't know. Shouldn't that be your area of information? I have enough to keep in my sights," he paused, "Hatsumi."

Gaara and Sakura would have shared a look identical in it's pained annoyance, if Gaara's eyes hadn't slit as his lips mirrored hers in a sneer. Masaki Hatsumi was Sukimoto's mirror as well, in an antagonistic style that ninja seemed to adhere to so easily. Whether isolationism, village pride, or something entirely different; it was driving them to pit against each other. Only the two men involved could fathom the source. And they were dragging the proceedings down to a mosquito breeding stagnation that was driving both Gaara and Sakura far past sand or kunai as weapons of choice for torment.

Sakura shook her head and sighed.

"Here we are, trying to get away from this mess for five seconds, and we're still talking about it," she grimaced.

Gaara shrugged, and Sakura absently noted that the gesture was too smooth for someone who sat around with what amounted to a metric ton's worth of sand on their back. Was it just her, or did his gourd seem to enlarge with his expansion in height (who grew squash that large anyway)? He was getting tall, albeit not as much as the rest of the boys. And thin. Too thin even. Blinking, she looked at his bowl. Empty. Eh. Maybe he should get seconds...

"Oi, Gaara, good stuff, isn't it?" Naruto was bouncing in his seat, apparently having followed Sakura's eyes. "Old Man! Another bowl for my friend here, he's got room!" Gaara endured a hearty slap on the shoulder, received with a slightly upwards tilt of his lips and a snort.

"Only because you assume we have the same size stomach, meaning the area between here and Kumo."

Sakura snickered into her cooled Miso, nursing what was left of her tea.

The red head allowed another lift of his lips, a more common occurrence around Konoha than Suna, and Naruto in general. Naruto was... well, Naruto. He may have been the instigator of Gaara's current (though comparative) docility, but he was still humorously odd, even by ninja standards. Konoha's general atmosphere was different as well. It almost seemed easier to breathe in the absence of his own people, despite the political tension. He'd accomplished his goal of acknowledgment as a trusted leader by his village, but at the same time he sometimes felt burdened by the daily weight of his responsibilities in the eyes of his ninja.

Suna was different in other ways as well. Turning his head slightly to gaze into the street, he noted the activities throughout. Women were doing their daily grocery shopping, an elderly couple was inspecting lanterns further on down the street, and random nin milled about the nearby food stalls. Suna was a labyrinth of covered walkways and tunnels connecting to buildings necessary for protection from the unforgiving, sandy climate. Most business of any kind was conducted indoors. Spending time outside during midday in full sun was something of a novelty. But, somehow, he missed the oppressive heat.

Accepting another steaming bowl of ramen from Teuchi, he shook off the lingering thoughts of desert from his mind. Shukaku had not been happy to give up his native element, as per usual. The mere thought of leaving for home had his body's captive swiftly ranting about a hasty departure, to which he responded by shoving the insistent annoyance into a distant corner of his mind. He'd try to enjoy the moments offered by Konoha as they lasted.

"...later on?"

Gaara blinked, refocusing on Sakura.

"I asked if Temari would be visiting sometime later on in the week. Your documents and all that. Doesn't she usually run as your emissary?"

"Normally, yes. But who do you think is running things in my absence; Kankurou?"

Sakura pictured Kankurou, in all his short tempered glory, dealing with a mountain of backed paperwork. She paused in lifting a noodle to her mouth.

"Maybe. If he was allowed to sign everything in purple."

Naruto grinned as Gaara's chest heaved once in soundless amusement.

"Ah. Sakura-san. What a quaint spot for lunch."

Sakura choked. Hacking, she batted away Naruto's overexerted pats to her back and reached for her tea, only to find it empty. Gaara surreptitiously slid his own cup towards her, which she hastily gulped. Blinking back watery eyes, she sent a grateful glance in his direction.

"Sukimoto-san," Gaara tilted his head forward in an informal bow.

"Kazekage-sama," Sukimoto bowed in return.

"Can I help you, Sukimoto-san?" She thanked all that was holy she'd missed her clothing as she mopped soup off her chin, turning embarrassedly to regard the council member.

"I do believe that Shizune-san in is need of some documents in your possession."

Sakura frowned slightly, "I left them on her desk before I left Hokage Tower."

"Ah," he replied, smiling politely.

The seconds seemed to draw out as she paused, then reluctantly began to pay her tab, standing to leave.

"Guess I'm off to find Shizune-sempai."

Sukimoto nodded, then turned to leave.

Sakura rolled her eyes heavily as Naruto's eyebrows rose. He cackled as she performed a rather rude gesture aimed at the man's retreating back.

"See you later in treaty hell, Gaara."

Said Sand nin grunted an acknowledgment, watching in amusement as she trailed behind her comrade, covertly mimicking Sukimoto's loping gate.

Naruto finished polishing off his sixth bowl, holding it aloft. "Oi, Old Man!"

Gaara wondered if it was possible to overdose purely on ramen flavoring.

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Author's Note:

Well then. Now that that is all cranked out… Inspiration for naughty hand gestures is to be owed entirely to the collegiate population that surrounds me. And their driving skills. I'm a native Detroiter. Get out of my way. Kthnx.