2/21/11

Requests are open. Comment, please.

Dedicated to Miikodesu. =]

–Blue

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishi.

The Medic and the Demon

Chapter 35: Taking Different Paths

by Rachel Poulson

––––––––––

"What was he to you?" Sasuke asked abruptly, eyes straying from his textbook.

She glanced up and took off her reading glasses. "Who?"

"Gaara." The word was tinged with distaste. "Sabaku no Gaara. The head of that art magazine you applied for, Akasuna."

"…Oh. He was…a friend. Just a friend from college." She leaned over the desk once more, determined to finish the storyboard.

Sasuke, reclining on the leather couch, eyed his wife meditatively.

…

The assistant led her into his office and shut the door, leaving her to examine the pictures on the walls of the stylish room. They were huge copies of spectacular cover art, and occasionally an inside flap. All at once she felt self-conscious, and wished she hadn't submitted her work.

"Excuse me, are you ?"

She stood abruptly and met striking green eyes. "Yes, I-" she realized who it was. "Oh my god, Gaara, I…"

He gazed at her, wide-eyed. "Sakura?"

She nodded.

He finally remembered to breathe. "It's been a long time." In a trance-like state, he shook her hand and walked around to the other side of the desk, where he sat down. "How have you been?"

In a similar state of awe, Sakura sank back into her chair. "Fine, I've been fine. How about you?"

He shrugged. "I'm doing well."

"Yes, I can see that."

The silence grew between them.

Gaara, recalling why she was there, looked down at the documents on his desk. "I've reviewed your portfolio with Kankuro – he's our editor in chief – and we'd like to hire you as a freelance agent. Your stuff is really spectacular."

Sakura blushed and looked down. "I'm happy to hear that. But I'll have to talk it over with my husband before I take the job."

He raised his eyebrows. "I believe you are married to Uchiha Sasuke, are you not? Head of the Uchiha law firm? Doubtless he will think this is a great opportunity for you."

She smiled and ran a hand through her short pink hair. "Maybe. I can never tell what he's thinking."

Gaara looked down. "I see. Well, would you like to take the paperwork home and look it over? You can make an appointment with my secretary if you'd like to accept, and we can work out the details of your employment. Is that alright?"

She nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Ga- oh, I'm sorry. Do you mind if I call you Gaara?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. And may I call you Sakura?"

She stood up, a grin still plastered over her face. "Of course. You know I'm so happy you've accomplished all this. I remember that you used to talk about how you were going to change the magazine, and you've really done it."

He smiled in return. "And you've become the artist of your dreams. Will I see you again?"

"You can count on it. I'll be back with the paperwork in a day or two." She shook his hand briskly and stood.

They walked to the door in silence, but when Gaara opened it for her, she turned around suddenly. He noticed, not for the first time, the way her lurid green eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

She stepped forward and gave him a brief bone crushing hug. "Goodbye, Gaara," she whispered, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "And thank you."

…

"That woman…" Matsuri began hesitantly, then stopped. She seemed to recompose herself and tried again. "Were you two…?"

Gaara signed the last line on the paper and handed it back to his wife. "Who are you referring to? And what are you talking about?"

She twisted back and forth nervously like a child. "Um, Uchiha Sakura, with the dyed pink hair. She applied for a job here, as a freelance agent, so you had an interview with her last week. Then you commissioned her for the cover piece this month. You know that I submitted my own piece…?"

He looked up sharply. "First of all, Matsuri, she was a friend from college, nothing more. I do not choose the cover for each edition; I merely approve choices made by our editors. Her submission was their choice, and it was pure coincidence that I knew her. And please understand that I will not be biased, not when the magazine is in question. Do not ask me to play favorites."

His stare unnerved her, making her anxiety more pronounced. "Ah, sorry. I understand."

She fell silent, still fidgeting, until he sighed and set down his pen. "Yes, Matsuri? Is there something else?

"I, um, I'm-" she caught Gaara's meaningful look and took a deep breath. "Gaara, I'm pregnant."

He went very still. "I see."

He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together, as he always did when he was thinking. After a moment he stood up. "Go tell Temari the news. I will see to it that the proper arrangements are made." He walked out, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

Matsuri followed, unsure of the emotions she'd heard in his voice.

…

It was late, and the library was almost deserted. Sakura bent over the thick paper, intent on her work, when a shadow crossed her light. Scowling in annoyance, she glanced up. "I'm using that light, you know-"

He caught her up in a kiss that left her breathless. "You shouldn't stay in here so late. It's bad for your eyes." He kissed her collarbone.

"Like you would know anything about it," she said indignantly. "Is the door locked…?" her voice trailed off as his hand slipped beneath her shirt.

"Yeah." He pulled a set of lock picks from his pocket with his free hand, letting them jangle for a moment before setting them on the table. "No interruptions."

"Be careful," she warned as he pressed her against the heavy oak table. "My latest designs are over there. If you ruin them, I'll kill you and make it look like an accident."

He laughed, and she ran her fingers through his dusty red hair in appreciation of the rare sound. "It always amazes me," she gasped as she worked to undo his belt, "that you can get into any place in town without keys."

He scoffed. "Keys are for the unimaginative." He groaned, lifting her onto the table to get better access to her neck.

She giggled into his hair. "Quoting Tamora Pierce, are we?"

"Well," he panted, "she is your favorite author."

She moaned beneath his hands and let her back arch. "And that," she breathed next to his ear, "is why you are about to get some amazing sex in the library." She kissed him again and didn't let him go.

Continued in Chapter 37.