Chapter 10

Itachi

Turning to watch the woman once more, he realized that he should have asked Deidara to send some food along with the healer.

Something niggled at the back of his mind to this last little thought. He tried to brush it aside, but it only niggled harder. In fact, it could be said that it had upped its niggling to a determined buzzing. Only mildly worried that he could suddenly hear things buzzing inside his head, he gave the niggle his attention. A thought was rising to the forefront of his mind, slowly. He felt….felt…

Wait.

He felt?

He blinked to clear his mind. No feelings. That's ridiculous.

He tried again.

He was coming to the slow realization that…in some vague way, he was almost…what was the word again? Ah, yes. Concerned. He was almost, in a vague sort of way, concerned for this individual's well being. He could not for the life of him remember the last time he wondered if a person should eat or not. Huh.

He decided that he did not enjoy this shadow-feeling. It took up entirely too much energy to maintain. In fact, he might be developing a slight headache from this departure from his otherwise meticulously uniform thought patterns.

He almost-frowned.

Masma

Still seething over the comment that his annoyance with Deidara was more pressing than any concern of hers, Masma sat there sulking and wondering how long this healer was going to take to get here.

She wasn't looking forward to more than 20 minutes of bickering with this man as her neck throbbed and pulsed. Though in all honesty the ache had reduced significantly, and she could sense that it would be completely faded by tonight. This didn't stop her from making a big deal about it, though. Baka Overlord deserved any and all grief that came his way for his actions. In her opinion he was given a startling amount of leeway with regards to complaints. She was going to milk this little bruise for all it was worth and them some…

Hmm

It suddenly occurred to her that she had been in his presence (awake) for more than 5 minutes without an argument breaking out. Instead of peaceful, she found it rather disconcerting. She turned to glance at him (exaggerating the stiffness of her neck's movement, of course) and found him looking oddly introspective.

Well, if a completely wooden lack of expression that was somehow still intimidating could look introspective.

Still watching, she was fascinated as the almost imperceptible movement of his eyebrows now turned the scary-statue face into a scarier angry-statue face. Though there seemed to be no overall change in his expression, he now gave the marked impression of a person that was frowning. Well past the bounds of common sense and the fear that its presence would invoke in her now, instead of cowering, she merely wondered what (else) had upset him now to herself. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she wondered aloud.

"What's got your panties in a bunch now?"

Amusement at the mental image of him in panties further lent to her recklessness, and she decided to get more questions off her chest.

"And how long is this healer going to take? Isn't this whole building a glorified barn? Seems to me she should be here by now."

"And the barns you've been in have got dungeons in them, have they?" came the distracted response.

"Well…no. I thought maybe you added this in yourselve- Hey! You just called it a dungeon! Ha. I knew it," Masma smugly declared. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that the Overlord seemed to still be off somewhere in his thoughts, unable to appreciate her self-satisfaction. Also, his continued silence told her that he wouldn't be answering her other questions. She decided that her neck twinge had just ratcheted up to an all-out burning sensation.

"Oi! Hey, I'm talking to you," she called, while reaching up to snap her fingers a few feet in front of him. When this was ineffective, she snapped her wrist closer his face and had almost began waggling her fingers when he suddenly snapped out of his reverie and grabbed her arm. Hard.

Still seeming half out of it, he pulled at it, drawing her up from the bed nearly to eye-level with him. With their faces less than a foot apart now, he unleashed the full force of his obsidian eyes on her. Masma reevaluated. He was definitely not out of it any more.

"In the future," he began, drawing her even closer, "you will refrain from approaching my person in such an abrupt manner."

His lashes lowered, a move that somehow managed to make his eyes completely avoid seeming at all attractive - like in all those tawdry romances her bookseller got her - and instead succeeded in making them look infinitely more dangerous. She could feel his breath fanning her face with every exhalation – another thing whose effect was vastly overstated in those books.

"Next time, you will not find yourself so lucky as merely restrained. Surprising me tends to have an…adverse…effect on my immediate surroundings," he continued.

Masma, considering the number of unpleasant things that could be covered under the umbrella of the word 'adverse' got even more alarmed. Then, not trusting herself to speak, nodded and squeaked.