Fast forward.
Work and play.
Press play.
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"Oh – oh! I've been meaning to ask - is that nasty little tuna can at the last pump yours?" Naruto, in typical Naruto fashion, was bouncing on his heels in excitement. He looked positively titillated by the question.
The answer was obvious – the store was empty except for them and her, so it only went to reason that the one car in the lot was hers. It wasn't so much an issue with answering an inane question, as it was the blatant insult to her faithful steed that set her hackles up.
Sakura could almost feel a vein popping in her forehead. After a deep, calming breath, she folded her hands before her and replied with a prim, "No, I don't know anything about a nasty little tuna can. If you're referring to the handsome blue Civic named Richard staunchly guarding the lot, then yes, that would be my very own."
"Richard?" Naruto squawked. He slapped his hands on the counter in front of her; she ignored his antics, instead lifting her chin to sniff daintily.
"The Lionhearted," Sakura confirmed with a stolid nod.
Even Sasuke looked up at that, an expression on his face flickering between incredulous and just plain doubtful. "The Lionhearted," he repeated, frowning as if he was waiting for her to shout 'got you!' at any moment.
"Yes. The Lionhearted: brave and faithful and tough."
"And like, a hundred years old…" Naruto sniggered.
"Fifteen," Sakura corrected blithely.
"A decade and a half!" He ended a full octave higher than he started, sounding as affronted as if she had just told him she liked eating babies for breakfast. "That's like… almost as old as you are!"
"Sure – there's only a 46% difference in age – that's practically the same." Sakura rolled her eyes. At 22 years old – and a Bachelor's of Science holder to boot – being called 15 years old was a bit insulting.
"In car years, that's like... really old though," Naruto persisted, and it was all she could do to keep from sighing and rolling her eyes.
"Great gas mileage, cheap parts, easy to work on… Plus I picked it up on the cheap – like seriously, so cheap I almost feel like I should be arrested on the spot. Maybe you should cuff me, officers?" She petulantly cocked a hip and offered her wrists in what she figured was her best cheeky 'cuff me' pose. Naruto snorted in laughter, and Sasuke (who she had thought had tuned out of the conversation earlier) spluttered in a coughing fit that may or may not have been related to the somewhat provocative pose.
"What's not to love? Right Sasuke?" She pursed her lips and batted her eyes at the still-coughing officer.
"Um, the rust?" Naruto ventured, when Sasuke's coughs only got worse.
Sakura scoffed, offended. "Honda's do not 'rust.'" She paused for dramatic effect. "They simply develop a little 'Honda rot.'"
"Honda rot," Naruto deadpanned. Sakura smiled cheerily at him.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand our love," she sniffed.
Just then, the radios buckled at their waists simultaneously broke into static and a calm, masculine staccato. "Unit 4, we have a 390 on Parson – it looks like you're closest to the scene, can you check it out, over?"
"Roger that, base, we're on our way," Sasuke sent back into the handset, apparently having finally cleared his throat of its obstruction. He still looked a little red in the face, though.
"Action, yess!" Naruto cheered, spilling some coffee onto the floor in the midst of his over-exuberant dance. "Oops – erm, sorry…" Sakura raised an eyebrow at him, and he ducked his head, apparently afraid of retribution. "See you next week, Sakura-chan!" he cheered, then made an overly hasty escape. The bell was only just chiming when he was already slamming the cruiser door shut across the parking lot.
Sakura smirked triumphantly. Yes, she was going to have to get the mop back out, but she had just asserted dominance over a man in uniform, shannaro!
A rap of knuckles on the counter tore her eyes away from where they lingered on Naruto's retreat, back to Sasuke – who was suddenly standing directly in front of her, albeit across the counter. She jumped, half because she hadn't noticed his approach, and half because the intensity of his gaze always left shivers running up her spine.
"Can I help you?" she chirped, then blushed furiously because she had reverted back to the 'Good morning, welcome to Wesco' tone she used when someone only just walked in the front door – not quite the tone one would use to address someone who had, for all intensive purposes, been lingering in the store for the last hour and a half.
For a moment, she thought perhaps he hadn't even noticed – but then he smirked and arched a brow at her, and she blushed all the harder. "You actually work on that car? You weren't just pulling my leg, that time?"
"I don't always have the right tools, or the strength, or enough hands – but when I can, yeah.. I downloaded a copy of the shop manual online –" he arched his brow again, and she hurriedly added, " – totally legally – totally – and anyway – I bought an old car so I'd get a chance to slam around in there a little –" If anything, his brow arched a little higher, and this time she found her own cheeks warming a little. "Uh, y'know, see how things work in there. Under the hood, that is. Of a car. Just so, like, I'd know something about cars – so no one would, like, charge me for headlight fluid or something sometime down the road… or something…"
Realizing she had said 'like' in two sentences in a row, and that she was effectively babbling, and that he had just gotten a call and was on his way out on official polite business to boot, she snapped her mouth shut and frowned fiercely. She was past that stage in her life – she was not an insipid, sniveling female, and she would not act like one.
Admittedly, it was sort of hard not to under his intense dark gaze.
"Oh," he replied coolly, as if she hadn't just made a total idiot of herself. He was giving her an odd sort of look – she couldn't tell if he was somewhat impressed, or just plain doubting that she had just said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the incessant chirping of his radio cut him off.
"Hey bastard, stop chatting up Sakura and get your ass out here! 390, remember? You're a cop, remember? You're on duty, remember?" Naruto's disembodied voice ranted in hyper succession. "You're faithful partner is –"
"Drunks aren't that fast moving, Naruto…" Sasuke snapped the radio off with an eye roll and a sigh – but his back was turned, and he was already retreating towards the door.
Once the door chimed, she heaved a sigh – whether it was of relief or regret, she wasn't entirely sure, but her chest felt much less constricted now that she was out from under his heavy gaze –
The door chimed again, and she jerked, surprised to see Sasuke leaning back in. "Hey – stay a little more aware of your surroundings when the men in blue are gone, space-cadet," he chided. "And about that… Honda rot, or whatever… If you're 'slamming around' in there, make sure your tetanus shot is up to date."
He quirked a two-fingered salute in parting - the door chimed a final time, and then the quick flash of lights confirmed that the cruiser was gone. For the life of her, Sakura couldn't decide if she was embarrassed for having been surprised twice in a row, flattered by the apparent care for her health – or completely insulted by the digs on her car.
But since she couldn't smother the rueful smirk quirking at her lips, she decided it wasn't so bad, regardless.
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Press pause.
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