10/2/10 – 11/14/10

More GaaSaku... when will it ever end? O.o

I started this a while ago, but couldn't figure out how to finish it until now. =)

Requests are open, so if you've got an idea, please say so.

–Blue

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishi.

The Medic and the Demon

Chapter 26: Sweet Tooth

by Rachel Poulson

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Walking through the door was like walking into a dream, all sugar and gossamer clouds. Even the air tasted happy.

He savored the moment when the door opened, and every delicious smell he could possibly imagine rushed towards him, eager to please. He smelled vanilla, raspberry, mint, rosemary, and so much chocolate...

And then she appeared in his line of sight, flour smutches on her cheeks and apron knotted tightly about her slim waist. She would smile, letting the expression lighten her whole face, and ask him how he was. He would answer, cool as ever, and order "the usual." And then she would wink at him and tell him to close his eyes because she had a surprise for him.

Surprises were another thing that made him enjoy being around her. Never before had unexpected things had a positive connotation. But every day, sure as sure, she would come up with the new flavor or recipe just for him, "the usual."

He loathed leaving, but he could only stay in the small sweet shop for his lunch hour. His father would never understand the joy of being around someone, or allow for an indulgence such as chocolate. He wasn't exactly lying about where he went for lunch; he had simply decided that his father didn't need to be informed of this aspect of his life.

One day he sat in her shop, watching her serve a young couple a plate of fresh boysenberry tea and orange swirled chocolate, and realized that this hour, five days a week, was the single happiest he'd ever been. He tried to ignore it, that growing sense of time lost whenever he sat through a lunch meeting, the feeling that there were things that could be much more pleasant about life, to no avail. Because every day, in the pink dress and grey slacks, in the red sandals and coffee-colored apron, she waited for him with a smile and a plate of something delectable.

So when she slid onto a stool next to him and passed over a jar of honey snaps dipped in vanilla crème, he felt the words slip from his mouth.

"Haruno-san, would you like to go on a date with me?"

She blinked pale pink lashes at him. "Sabaku-san?"

"I mean, if you'd rather not–"

"No!" She bit her lip. "I mean, I'd like to, really!"

He nodded, feeling his heart drumming against his ribcage like a battle hymn. "Hai... then I'll see you on Saturday?"

She laughed a little, and he noticed with a start that she had pale freckles on her nose. "Saturday's fine. Meet me here at noon?"

He didn't remember agreeing, or walking out of the shop in a wonderful mood, but he did remember the look on her face when he'd asked her. It was surprised, he decided. And rather pleased. This was new to him. He couldn't remember a time when someone had been happy because of something he'd said.

...

Saturday morning he snuck out of his apartment. It occurred to him halfway to the train station that he had no reason to sneak; his father would never know where he was unless he said something. Feeling suddenly bold, he strode to the curb and held up a hand, yelling, "Taxi!"

He had decided not to wear a suit, though he scarcely knew how else to dress. He dug up some slacks from his high school uniform and bought a light grey shirt from the clothing store down the street. It occurred to him that there was such a thing as too casual, so he wore his regular brown shoes.

Within ten minutes of leaving his apartment, he had arrived at the little shop called Sugar & Spice. For a moment outside the door he hesitated, but it passed quickly. He pulled rather sharply on the handle.

Though he knew the shop extraordinarily well by this point, it still surprised him to see it unchanged on the weekend. He stepped in quietly, making sure to shut the door.

"Sabaku-san!" There she was, walking into the room, smiling like the sun had finally broken through the clouds. "It's good to see you."

"Hai. You as well, Haruno-san. But you can call me Gaara." He raised his hands. "I mean, only if you'd prefer to."

Her lips twitched. "Of course, Gaara. And my name is Sakura." She turned to the counter, kneeling so she could pull something out.

He blushed. "Hai."

While she was occupied, he pulled up a chair at the counter. "So where would you like to go, um, Sakura?"

She stood up, grinning. "Nowhere." She revealed what she'd been digging for: a square cake pan, the depth of her palm and the width of a tea kettle.

"Nowhere?"

"Nowhere," she confirmed, placing the metal pan on the counter with a clang. "I'm going to teach you to bake something."

He blinked. "Okay."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Well you're not going to learn to cook from over there. Come behind the counter." She gestured to the break in the counter that lay near the far wall. "We have work to do."

Patiently she showed him how to pour the already prepared batter into a mold and smooth the surface. He had no idea how to handle a spatula, so she guided his hands gently. But, despite his best efforts, she would not tell him what they were making; the fruit of their labors was to be a surprise to him.

Finally she opened one of the ovens with her big fireproof mitts and slid the metal mold inside. "It will be done in a few minutes, okay?"

He nodded unable to meet her eyes. It was peculiar, knowing that she'd taught him something so simply, something useful. It made him wonder what else he could learn about the world other than how to buy and sell it.

While he stared in wonder at the cake and she showed him how to frost it, it occurred to him that he'd never been happy before. Not once.

And he realized, washing down a slice of cake with some milk, that every day he could be happy. Not just when his father allowed it, or when his siblings could spare some time.

When Sakura insisted on cleaning up, he took out his cell phone and dialed his father's number.

"Gaara?"

"It's me, Father."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just calling to say that I'm quitting." He closed the cell phone on his father's screaming protests.

The pink haired woman wandered back into the front room, holding a metal tray in one hand and a pitcher of his favorite cranberry ice tea. "What was that about?"

Gaara smiled, and she blushed. "I was just getting my life back."

"Really?" She set a plate of danishes in front of him. "Well, you can't do that on an empty stomach."

Rather than take one of the cookies, he took her hand, and was rewarded with another becoming blush. "Haruno Sakura, would you like to go on another date next Saturday?" And the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that, and maybe someday all the days in between as well...

She beamed at him. "I would. And now, if the shock doesn't kill you, would you mind if I kissed you on the cheek?"

Gaara, startled by the ease with which smiling now came, shook his head.

Tentative lips pressed against his cheek, and then pulled away. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Not at all. Did it hold any unforeseen horror for you?"

"Of course not!"

Gaara smiled. "Then would you mind if I returned the favor?"