Disclaimer: ...I don't own Jiraiya, erm, I mean, Naruto.
Summary/Notes: Was watching that part where he bares his scar - hubbahubba old man - and watching Tsunade's expressions, my overactive mind went into plot mode.
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Inspiration: "I need you like water, like breath, like the rain. I need you like mercy from Heaven's gates. There's a freedom in your arms, that carries me through, I need you…" - Leann Rimes
When Jiraiya first bared the horrific memento of his second near escape with death, Tsunade felt as though she'd been dumped in boiling water, and thrown in an icy cavern all at once. Her mouth had gone dry - God, he was still as sexy as ever, not bad for an old guy, the naughty part of her had muttered, much to her annoyance - but it was the way her heart clenched at the sight of the scar that really had her caught.
It wasn't the sight of the physical disfigurement itself that had her in silent agony though.
It had been the way he'd casually spoken of his death, as if it was of little significance. The way he'd almost teasingly recounted the day she'd beaten him within an inch of his life, as if the idea of him losing his life was of no importance to anyone. She'd never really thought about it until that moment; it had just…never been something she'd believed would ever happen.
Jiraiya could die one day.
She could lose him.
The thought was so astonishingly painful that Tsunade had to close her eyes tightly to prevent the sudden onslaught of fear and anguish, and hinder the desire to throw herself at him and beat him mercilessly for daring to even mention his death.
She could not lose him.
Even if it killed her to admit it, she needed the big idiot. If he died, the one, entire reason her life still had light in it would vanish.
She did end up throwing herself at him, later that evening. But rather than the beating she'd been preparing herself for - and the beating he steeled himself for - she'd ended up in his arms on an entirely different note.
"You dumbass," she mumbled against his jacket, small but ever so powerful hands clenching the material around his back. She felt him shift in surprise, before his arms rested around her shoulders in a familiar embrace. He didn't ask any questions; he didn't tease her or try anything perverted; he just stood there, holding her and smiling a small, bemused and slightly playful smile.
"Yeah, but I'm your dumbass, Hime. And you'll never get rid of me."
It certainly wasn't some morbidly sappy speech about never leaving her, but for Tsunade, it was enough.