A/N: I am really, really, really sorry about the long wait for this next chapter. I do, however, find it slightly ironic that I'm updating it the same day I did last year. A lot has put me off from writing more for this story. Life, school, the way the manga has been progressing. I have to admit to getting teary eyed when Itachi died. It felt like I was watching my favorite puppy get run over. Not that Itachi is a puppy, but still…

Anyways, I'm going to try and finish this up. I highly doubt it's going to finish soon, but I'm going to do my best to write more and keep on working on it. Cookies help with that, so do reviews. Reviews are wonderful little helpers that boost me over my incessant writer's block.

Another reason that this chapter took so long to publish is that it got deleted. I'm still upset about that, even though I've rewritten it. But that doesn't change the fact that almost four pages of awesomeness was destroyed. That also helped put me in my dark mood of writer's block. But I digress. You guys came here to read this chapter, not the weird ramblings of my mind. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Six:

A loud crash reverberated through the room, echoing down the hall and starting the few birds that had been eaten the crumbs littered around the window. Inside the room, the angry kunoichi stood, shouting at the cowering Akatsuki member whose blue skin had paled in both anger and fright.

"You just broke the only mixing bowl left! How am I supposed to make anything without a mixing bowl?!" Sakura glared at Kisame and then at the bright yellow shards sprinkled on the ground. "You're the one who asked me for help. And now I can't do anything."

She stomped away, grumbling loudly about men who couldn't do anything right and kicked the door open to the back courtyard. Along with the kitchen and her room, this was the only place she was allowed to go to without supervision. Or at least, physical supervision. Itachi had still place wards around the courtyard and the windows and doors that alerted him if she tried to escape. She had tried to once, when they first let her use the courtyard and she still had bruises from that. The Akatsuki members hadn't been gentle in retrieving her.

Scuffing her feet in annoyance, she plunked herself down on one of the benches, stretching lazily before collapsing against the back board with a sigh. Maybe it had been wrong to yell at Kisame like that, she thought. He had only wanted me to show him how to make pancakes after all. But, she snorted, it's his fault for trying to juggle the mixing bowl and the measuring cup. I thought ninja were supposed to be able to not drop anything, and he ends up dropping a glass bowl. What an idiot.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back to bask in the sun. She had been with them for about two weeks by now, and this was their second base. They had only stayed at the first one for a day after she had fixed Deidara's arm up the second time before receiving orders to move out. She had argued, saying that any type of travel could potentially damage the blond ninja's shoulder muscles but she had been ignored. When she refused to leave with them, they had knocked her out, and when she had finally come to, she had been blindfolded and gagged, her wrists and ankles tied and her body slung over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Needless to say, her pride still hadn't recovered. When they had stopped moving she had been dumped onto a cold floor, the ties around her wrists and ankles removed, and then left alone. When she had managed to work the gag and blindfold off she had found herself in a replica of the first room she had been placed in, down to the small window and furnishings. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn that it was the same place.

They had been there ever since, Sakura tending to Deidara's arm which had gotten worse, and to the cooking, which none of the criminals seemed inclined to do. At the old base they had always eaten take out, but it seemed that this new location was too isolated for such commodities. Instead, Sakura had been pointed in the direction of the kitchen, handed an apron, and set to work. At first she was indignant, but after awhile she grew to like it. There was something about cooking that relaxed her, set her mind and body at ease. Cooking always brought memories of giggling with her friends as they made cookies for sleepovers and cupcakes for birthdays. They would have icing competitions, and then spend the rest of the time gossiping with each other. It was a time Sakura treasured, and as much as she wished she could relive that time, she didn't think that any of her captors would agree to engage in such an act.

She sat out there for almost three hours, breathing in the fresh air that soothed her nerves and made her feel like anything was possible. Finally, she stood, stretching stiff muscles before heading inside.

It was a mess. The kitchen had been destroyed, dough covering every surface and ingredients strewn across the counter and floor. The stove was still on, and in the frying pan was these black crispy things, sizzling merrily in oil. Sakura took it all in with wide eyes before turning to the culprit. Kisame stood there, wearing her previously clean apron, covered from head to toe in flour. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he tried to maneuver the spatula underneath the burnt crisps, but ending up howling in rage as the hot oil jumped over the pan and onto his hand. He leaped back, sucking the burnt part of his hand and kicked the cabinet, only to wince as he stubbed his toe. Hopping on one foot, he turned to the sink, only to come face to face with a seriously shocked, but amused, kunoichi.

"What are you doing," she asked, her voice dripping with laughter. He opened his mouth, a defensive response ready to come out but yelped as another splatter of oil hit him. Looking at Sakura pitifully, he backed away from the frying pan.

"I was making pancakes." She glanced again at the mess to his less than impeccable self and couldn't help but laugh.

"I..see…Well, you can't have the burner on that high." Guarding herself with the lid to the pan, she reached over, turning off the burner and grabbing the frying pan, moving it to a cold spot on the stove. "And you put too much oil in. Not to mention that you can't cook them this long." Gingerly poking the black lumps with a spoon, she turned to see Kisame looking at the floor desolately. Pity welled up in her at seeing such a strong ninja so upset over ruined pancakes. With a mental sigh, she grabbed another apron out of a drawer, pulling it over her head and turning on the faucet.

"Come on," she said, seeing the blue skinned ninja looking at her with curiosity. "First things first, we need to clean up, then I can show how to make pancakes properly, ok?" Kisame grinned, his sharp teeth glinting and set to, helping her wipe down the counters and floors in record time. The rest of the day was spent with her giving him cooking lessons, and by the time dinner rolled around the kitchen was full of pancakes, cookies, cupcakes, sandwiches, dips, and soups. And by the time Sakura was able to eventually go to sleep, she had seen in Kisame what she thought she would only see in her friends back home: a person who liked to make things for the comfort it provided, and not for the honor it received. When she fell asleep that night, she wasn't plagued by thoughts of escape or her team, but was instead lulled with the soothing knowledge that she had finally made a friend.

A/N: I know it wasn't long, but I felt that it was better to just get back to writing something I enjoyed instead of writing a pile of crap that none of us enjoyed. I love Kisame, he's just really funny, and I had a lot of fun making him into a cooking wannabe. The entire time I wrote this I was picturing Kisame with puppy dog eyes. But please, send me reviews. It'd be great to know what you think! Bye for now!