DISCLAIMER - I do not own Naruto.
Rated 'M' for sexual situations and lemons, violence and bad language.
She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel.
She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool.
And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree.
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you,
But she's always a woman to me.
- Fyfe Dangerfield, She's Always a Woman (Billy Joel cover)
Aimi's POV
Two mornings later, I awoke to the sounds of shuffling papers, the scribble of a pen on paper, the pressure of which was a little too much to be considered cordial.
I inhaled deeply, soaking in the fresh scent of the morning and rolled onto my back, a little surprised Gaara hadn't reached out to embrace me and wish me good morning.
I'm being spoiled, I pondered cheerfully, but then a darker thought entered my mind. Would he even be here half as much when he was Kazekage?
I opened my eyes and found him next to me, sat up in bed with a stack of papers in his hand, scrolls sprawled out across his lap. He was writing furiously, his brow creased in concentration as he worked.
"Good morning, gorgeous," I greeted, beaming at him. His frown immediately dissipated as he noticed I had awoken and his expression spread into a small smile. However, I could see the strain in it.
"You haven't been working all night, have you? What's wrong?"
His brow furrowed again. "It seems the reservoir is running low and since the Rain village has started locking down its security, we can't transport enough water here since they're being... difficult."
"Can't you get it from somewhere else then? Like the Land of Lightning?"
"It doesn't rain a lot there," he dismissed, shaking his head at me as if I was talking nonsense.
"Sure it does. High mountain ranges bordered by the sea on two sides. They must have an area of that land where it rains extensively," I explained, trying not to smirk at his attempts to cover up his surprise at my geographical knowledge. "Man, didn't you listen at all in the academy during academic study time?"
"Not really," he admitted, smiling despite himself. Then, he sighed, slamming his papers onto his lap. "I'm not suited to economics or diplomacy. I'm better on the battlefield."
"That's why you have me and Temari," I told him, shuffling closer to him and leaning on his arm, pressing my lips against his bare shoulder. "You were chosen for this because you're going to make an incredible Kazekage. Nobody expects you to know everything straight away. And I'll help you in any way I can."
He wrapped his arm around me, the velvet caress of his skin on mine instilling a sense of comfort within me. He'd been right next to me but I felt like I'd missed him overnight. He placed his head on mine, sighing once more. "I'll have to see about trading Gold Dust with the Hidden Cloud."
"Is it scary?" I asked. "You know, knowing that in a few months, you'll be the leader of every single person in this village, that's it up to you to govern and protect us all?"
He shook his head, sharp contours and hard angles, a strong jaw line and those sea foam eyes, so full of vitality, encircled by those black markings. He was striking, savage-looking, in every sense of the word. "No. The ties that I have formed to the people of this village make me want to lead them to better things. I want to make a difference."
It occurred to me then that while Gaara would always be just Gaara to me, he still took my breath away.
We spent the morning trading knowledge about politics and economics in bed, trying to teach each other what we knew already. Eventually, however, the clock on my bedside table hit eleven and I knew we'd have to get up eventually since today was the day we had my doctor's appointment.
I felt a swell of embarrassment at the slight excitement I felt just at walking down the street by Gaara's side, in public. We rarely went out just the two of us and this would be the first time since it had generally become public knowledge that Gaara was very likely to become Kazekage that we would do so.
At eleven forty five, Gaara and I left the apartment and I locked the door behind us, a light wind neutralizing the usually stifling heat, picking up the hemline of Gaara's cloak, making it flare around his legs like it was alive, like it had its own mind. It crowned him, making him seem larger, even more intimidating than usual.
"A sandstorm is coming," he commented mildly, his eyes narrowed as his eyes looked to the west while I locked the door behind us.
"How do you always know stuff like that?" I questioned, running my fingers through my hair, sweeping it back and turning to stand by him, looking out west to where he was looking at what seemed like cloudless cyan sky.
"I can feel it on the winds," he stated, his cloak still lapping around him in the light breeze. He seemed to have moulded his gourd to being larger since changing outfits too, unless he'd just grown a lot recently.
I couldn't understand where all this growth had come from, why he suddenly seemed so much older, like one day he'd woken up and he was a man.
"Come on, let's get going or we'll be late," I beckoned, inclining my head in the direction of the hospital, where my appointment would take place.
I wondered vaguely if I'd look much smaller compared to him now since I wore such tight-fitting clothes and he now wore something similar to robes and carried that gourd with him, larger than ever.
We rounded the corner onto the main street and he surprised me by taking my hand, as if it was nothing, as if we'd done it hundreds of times before, and laced his fingers with mine.
I grinned, knowing that the blood was rushing to my face as we walked up the main boulevard, many villagers either greeting us, "Good day, Lord Gaara, Lady Aimi!" or whispering to one another about our presence, a rarity without Kankuro or Temari. They probably thought we were on a date, considering we were holding hands. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with my other hand, still beaming.
At that moment, a jolly looking elderly man approached us. "Good morning to you, Lord Gaara! Ah! And I see you've brought out the little lady with you today! How lovely! What're you two up to this fine day?"
"We're on our way to the hospital for some test results," Gaara told the old man, squeezing my hand, letting me know he wasn't about to reveal anything. "It's just routine but I thought we could take a stroll and see the village."
"Ah! Excellent! Well, I hope it all goes well for you! I'm hoping those stuffy elders push the Kazekage decree through quickly for you. They certainly are taking their time, aren't they?" And the man guffawed, slapping Gaara's arm as men did, in playful comradeship. His gaze shifted to me then, appraising me.
"Will you and the little lady be moving in together when you become Kazekage, Lord Gaara?" the man asked, eyes on me, however his question clearly directed at Gaara.
"Yes, we will, sir," Gaara told him, pulling me a little closer discreetly.
"Well, good luck to you both! Anyway, I must be off! That gold won't sell itself, right?" And he waddled off, chuckling at his own joke.
"Who is that guy?" I whispered, as we continued walking, although he was long out of earshot.
"His name is Fumio," Gaara explained, nodding at passer-bys. "He owns the company who are responsible for resourcing and supplying the majority of our Gold Dust. At the moment, the elders are reluctant to fund his program due to the state of the village so he's waiting until I get in power so he can start making money again."
"So he's using you?!" I asked accusatively, my voice coming out much louder than I would've liked. "Fire his ass!"
He turned to me, his lip curled upwards in amusement, the closest to a grin I would ever get. "It's politics, people are usually after their own gains. Dismissing people is not usually the answer. If I am to do what is best for this village, I must deal with the cards I am dealt. He may be using me but he is a shrewd businessman."
"Well, if it was me, I'd have fired his ass," I grumbled, my expression turning sour. He shook his head at me, still smiling. I saw a couple of ladies behind him giggle at our exchange, watching on in polite curiosity, surveying the soon-to-be Kazekage and his girlfriend interacting naturally.
"Come on, we're going to be late and I've already 'fired enough asses' this past week if they get upset with us," he beckoned, his joke rolling off his tongue like a sliver of music.
I snorted. "It doesn't matter anyway. We're the ultimate team; we'd just kick their butts if they got mad."
He didn't disagree with me.
Gaara's POV
Aimi Uchiha was by no means conventionally perfect.
Even now as we walked down the streets, her little hand in mine, I could've picked out things that made her a dark horse, the flawed image of beauty.
As she turned to me, her eyes giving off a sense of wonder that I still couldn't understand whenever she looked at me, I noticed that one of her eyes was slightly smaller. One eye was more oval-shaped than the other, the eyebrow of which she arched frequently. In doing so, she gave off an air that seemed almost arrogant, that she was so self-confident; questioning herself would simply not be a possibility. This air was something I had witnessed long ago in her brother.
In fact, as I studied her face, I noticed that her face was by no means symmetrical. She styled her hair in a side parting, a great weight of dark hair billowing off into the wind, emphasizing that her eyes were very slightly different sizes.
Yet her face was exquisite, luminous pearly skin with an olive undertone, high cheekbones and a small slender nose. Her eyes seemed to catch the light in a way I'd never seen in another human, as if the sun sought out the fragments of green and brown in her eyes, desperate to shine off the passions she so often exuded from her eyes.
Her mouth was a little awry, leading to her smile being slightly crooked.
But her smile did things to my heart, to my soul that I couldn't explain. It lit up her splendid face like a halo, those eyes dazzling when she beamed, her cheekbones becoming more pronounced.
Her smile had a contagious air, one that you could feel yourself getting swept up in, losing yourself to it.
I was in love with her smile.
Such a concentration of fleeting happiness when she smiled did not seem real.
But she was real, despite her ethereal smile and those eyes that constantly gave away her emotions. That was where she and her brother differed, his obsidian ones carrying all the mysteries of their clan upon his shoulders.
"It's not fair!" she would complain, her pale pink lips pouting, their natural swell emphasizing her displeasure. "You and Sasuke are cut from the same cloth, you're both so mysterious. And then there's me... the open book."
She didn't understand how endearing it was to me that I'd spent so long full of hate, a monotonous, constant emotion and then she had come along and she could feel several different emotions within minutes, constantly unrestrained.
"She's messed up as hell," Kankuro would often comment with a sad smile. It wasn't that he thought any less of her for it or that he loved her any less, it was mere fact in his opinion.
She was unpredictable, volatile and I wasn't sure she knew what she wanted from life sometimes. She was high maintenance and she could have mood swings so fiercely that occasionally even Temari would stop trying to understand her.
She never reacted the way I expected her to. When the doctor at her exam had gone behind her back, I would've expected her to deal with the situation herself. But instead, she came home to me, crying, needing me to deal with it.
She frequently needed affection and while she was often kind, she could be suddenly cruel, such anger instilled in her by loss and heartbreak that sometimes Kankuro joked that even I, Gaara of the Desert, wouldn't be able to halt her fury if she got mad with me.
But she rarely got seriously mad at me or anyone, I noticed, as we continued down the street, villagers greeting her warmly as we walked down the street, enchanted by that smile and the way she gazed up into the cloudless blue sky with such hope.
However, when she was in a bad mood, she stomped around the apartment, usually picking a fight with Kankuro over nothing. Her lower lip would jut out once more, her eyes as bewitchingly sharp as when sharingan was activated. It was her body's natural defence when her eyes burned like that, a warning not to mess with her.
The way she raged around the house when something had ticked her off, be it the fact that I hadn't slept over the night before or that she'd found out a close friend back in the Leaf had been seriously injured, however childish - something she could be when she wasn't thinking rationally - I still found it enticing. It was like a challenge to me when she walked around like she owned the place, confident in her anger. Moments later, we often found ourselves tangled up together, be it on her bed, up against a wall, it hardly mattered. Our limbs, tongues, lips, fingers would snarl sinfully together, undulating, desperate for one another.
But it wasn't in spite of her imperfections that I loved her. It was a good proportion of the reasons why I did.
I loved challenging myself to make the creases between her slim eyebrows fade, to see if I could make her whisper her affections for me, to see if I could make those eyes, like shattered glass, glaze over with lust.
I loved that she looked almost sarcastic when she arched her eyebrow, brown hair flowing over her breasts, radiating a self-confidence that made me hopeful that neither of her brothers would ever truly manage to destroy her, because she was outrageous, wild and somehow so captivating that she and Naruto simultaneously had pulled me from the darkness and thrust me into the light.
I loved that I got a surprise at every turn, that I had to roll with the punches. I had been through enough in life to know I wanted more than a partner in life whose beauty was merely dainty, only delicate. I knew I didn't want someone who would have my dinner ready on the table and a constant smile upon rosy lips. I didn't want someone who didn't defy my expectations at every turn.
It was one of the reasons I was so dominant with her in the bedroom, a primal urge to conquer her, to win her over taking over my body, to claim her.
I didn't want someone who consistently never needed me and was totally independent nor did I want someone who would constantly rely on me.
And I loved the juxtaposition of her dependence on me. All the times we had been training and on missions and I'd received an earful for trying to protect her flashed through my mind, her sharingan glinting red at me as she shouted, "I don't need protecting!" And then the little, more insignificant moments, like when I'd be in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water and I'd hear a scream and a flurry of curses, along with her growling, "Gaara, get in here!" I'd rush into the living room and find her on the couch cradling her foot and wincing.
"I stubbed my toe and it hurts so bad!" she would whine and reach out her hands towards me for a cuddle, my arms a combatant to the trivial pain. But of course, she'd be in my arms the next second, biting her lip and cursing the coffee table like she had a personal vendetta towards it.
I wanted that feeling of anticipation when events whirled around our lives and I was awaiting Aimi's reactions. I wanted contrasting beauty, daring dark eyes and hair and pale skin. I wanted that volatility, that provocation to try and tame Aimi Uchiha through kisses or cuddles or even a smile while we lazed around under sheets stained by the sunrise.
And then the more animalistic things, like the way her behind entranced me in that catsuit even now, as she walked with a sway. It was pert, round, everything a man could dream of.
I watched her then as we continued to make our way to the hospital. The shape of her body was so feminine, so many curves, that the desire the take her home and make her mine even now, welled up inside of me.
I loved the way she bit her lip when she was anxious, the way her ample breasts bounced when she walked with that strut. I loved the way she smelled like berries, sandalwood and vanilla, a scent I couldn't get out of my head, a scent I never wanted to get out of my head. It was like coming home.
I loved the way she brought out the worst of me, making me possessive, jealous and animalistic, sensitive towards any man who so much as looked at her for more than a few seconds. Because Aimi Uchiha was mine; she had been since the day I'd seen her perched leisurely on that tree branch with wide eyes as she took in the sight of me, unable to disguise her fascination with me in that moment.
Even then, I remembered wanting her as I told her I was curious about her. I didn't understand how back then, as I remembered the desire twisting inside my stomach and I mistook it for bloodlust. I didn't understand how much she'd come to mean to me.
I loved that she brought out the best of me. Even now as the hospital came into view, I did not ignore or aim to evade the people who nodded and beamed at me as I passed. I nodded back, acknowledging them courteously. She had taught me about people, about choosing my own path.
I hadn't known I had it in me.
"You're quiet today," she remarked suddenly, unconsciously running her fingers through her tousled hair, a dark mahogany color under the sun, the red shades highlighted during the light of day.
She's shown me photographs of her family recently and I'd gathered that she resembled her mother so closely, it was a little uncanny, aside from her coloring. She had told me she had generally inherited her father's coloring, a little more like her eldest brother than her twin.
It had not escaped my notice that Mikoto, her mother, was very attractive. I hadn't thought of her father as so, at first, but his coloring was indeed striking.
Did she inherit her insightfulness, her ability to read me like a book from her mother or her father?
I wondered vaguely if her parents would've approved of our relationship, if they would've approved of me.
"Gaara, are you okay? Is someone bothering you?" she quizzed gently, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb.
"I'm fine. I'm just hoping this appointment goes well," I answered honestly as we entered the hospital.
We entered a reception area, a large desk in the center of the room, rows of plush sofas encircling it, large potted plants dotted around it.
I made a note to have these plants removed when I ascended to Kazekage. They were clearly a waste of money, space and maintaining them would be a waste of water.
We could have cacti in here if they say we need something to make it more welcoming, I compromised internally as Aimi released my hand, sauntering right up to the desk and leaning on it.
"Hi!" she greeted warmly to a baffled woman behind the desk who was clearly dumbfounded at the sudden appearance of the dark-haired kunoichi. Her expression mellowed out as she clearly recognized her, 'the Kazekage bride'. "I'm Aimi Uchiha. I'm here for some test results."
The receptionist looked behind her then, clearly looking for the 'Kazekage'. Her pale eyes found me and she grinned at the sight of Aimi and myself together, clearly pleased to see I had accompanied her. It was as if the majority of the villagers openly supported and encouraged our relationship, as if Aimi's relationship with me was something that was becoming close to their hearts.
The receptionist looked down at a list of papers gathered on her desk and scrolled down it with a pen, looking for Aimi's name.
"Ah yes," she stated, finding whatever she was looking for. "Please take a seat. Someone will come and lead you to where your consultation will be held."
Aimi grinned and spun on her heel, going to take a seat on a large navy blue couch, right next to where a large money plant was thriving. I went to sit by her, folding my arms and trying not to complain about the waste in the hospital.
"Hey, Gaara?" Aimi asked, turning her head to me, her eyes somehow still luminous even indoors. "What happens if I'm not?"
I caught her eye, our gaze locking. It didn't escape my notice that several people, patients and onlookers were watching us, desperate to see the future Kazekage and his girlfriend going about their day-to-day lives.
Probably wondering what we're doing here together, I thought sardonically.
"If you're not what?" I asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant, just wanting her to say it.
She didn't tear her gaze away from me as I expected but held me with those hazel eyes, her sporadic confidence coming back to her. "What happens if I'm not fertile?"
I couldn't understand how she could look at me like that, so confident, when we both knew that this had been bothering her since her examination. I decided to make light of it, to attempt to calm her a little. "If you're not fertile... I think the council elders may just find me another bride."
"Hey! Shut up!" she squeaked, lightly smacking my arm and squealing, her face bright with her grin.
But I could see past it as her smile fell away.
Worry. Fear.
I caught her hand lithely at that moment, however and held her steady. "No. It doesn't matter to me if you're fertile. You're Aimi."
The worry faded away from her eyes then as I reassured her and she grinned, her teeth flashing. "It's not like it even matters at this point either, right?"
"Aimi Uchiha?" a voice called through the quiescent foyer, the few people who hadn't spotted us turning their heads every which way to get a glimpse of the Kazekage bride.
If she noticed, she didn't even react, getting to her feet and shaking out her mane of hair. I too, rose and followed her to the desk where a plump looking medic with a kind smile and a clipboard greeted us.
"Lady Aimi, Lord Gaara." She nodded to us, still beaming. "If you'll step right this way."
She headed off down a corridor, Aimi and me following. I did not miss Aimi's subtle sneer at the term of address.
Lady Aimi was still something she couldn't get her head around, I had gathered, whereas I'd been used to being referred to as Lord Gaara since I was young.
We followed the nurse through winding passages, passages I was a little familiar with since I had already had to visit the hospital on official business a few days ago and was due to again to meet with nurses and doctors so they could get to know their Kazekage.
Aimi stayed silent, occasionally sighing as we followed the plump lady.
Finally, we stopped at a door that read, "Dr Noguchi."
I had met him before. He had been the personal medic of my father and my family since we were born, so this would not be new to me.
I pondered about this moment, the moment when Aimi too joined our family, becoming one of his patients.
The nurse knocked on the door timidly and I heard a familiar deep voice call, "Come in."
The nurse gestured for us to go straight into the room and Aimi went first, never one to shy away from meeting new people. I followed behind her.
The room we entered was large and circular, grand in every aspect of the word. It exuded the word, "elite", a large oak desk commanding the center of the room, crimson splashed across the canvas of the wall. Intimidating bookshelves filled with books and papers haunted the corners of the room proudly and a large picture of the Sand village, painted with a view from above, displaying the sprawling nature of the habitat hung in a golden frame behind the desk.
Seated behind that desk was a thin man that I recognized easily, so thin he looked like he might have been stretched. His glasses sat on the bridge of his Roman nose, slightly too big for his face, over which beady eyes surveyed us. The man's lips spread into a thin papery smile as he recognized me.
He got to his feet. "Ah! Lord Gaara, what a pleasure," he gushed, bowing. However, we had rarely been in each other's company of late. The last time I had seen him properly was two years ago, in which case, that certainly would not have been any kind of pleasure. He turned to Aimi then, whose face was bright with a smile. "And is this the famous Aimi Uchiha I keep hearing so much about from everyone?"
"That would be me, sir," she confirmed, bowing a little in acknowledgement.
"My, my, how very sweet you are, my dear!" he enthused.
I saw alarm bells then. If there was anything Aimi hated, it was being underestimated and she was rash enough to go off first impressions with nearly everyone she met.
This may not go well, I groaned internally.
She surprised me by giggling and thanking him, in a good enough mood to play along with the pompous charade of one of the best medics in the Sand village.
He gestured for us to have a seat in the two plush chairs situated in front of his desk. We did so and Aimi leaned towards me unconsciously, something which if I'd have questioned her about, I'm sure she wouldn't have even noticed she'd done.
"So... fertility tests? That's not easy for anyone, especially considering what a performance it was," Noguchi quipped, smiling sympathetically at Aimi. She was his patient in this moment and so it would be her that he would talk to primarily.
"Yeah," Aimi agreed, chuckling. "I don't think they're for me, doctor. I'm glad I did them though."
Liar, I thought smugly, trying not to smirk at her. She hated every moment of it. Who was she kidding?
Doctor Noguchi caught her gaze at that moment, still smiling at her and I noticed a look of intrigue in his eyes as he surveyed her over the top of his crooked glasses. "Shall we get on with your results then? I'm sure Lord Gaara and yourself are anxious to know the results."
I nodded and Aimi's facade faded a little as she squeaked, "Yes." She was truly a little nervous.
I reached out for her hand, taking it in both of mine and placing it in her lap, letting her know she wasn't alone in this as I offered her any support I could.
I did not miss the warm look the doctor gave our intertwined hands as he opened a sienna file that had already been placed on his desk.
I could feel Aimi's little hand sweating in my own, sense her inhaling deeply. The pressures the council were putting her and her body under were immense, especially at a time when it shouldn't even matter. We were too young to have children so why all the rush now? Why was I being forced to place Aimi in this hospital room after having her insides probed and examined?
"First of all, your height and weight are absolutely fine," the doctor began, reading from the file, his brow furrowed. "Your body fat percentage is 17% which is a little low for your age but you have a lot of muscle tissue due to you being a shinobi. It's a little higher than your average shinobi, in fact."
"That's okay though, right? It's not like I need to lose any weight, is it?" Aimi panicked, leaning forward.
The guilt spilled through me like someone had opened a floodgate at her words. Why was this happening? Why should she be made to feel insecure about her weight for the sake of a baby she wouldn't have for years? She was perfect the way she was.
"No, absolutely not. Your body is perfectly in proportion as it is, at the moment. If you lost any fat tissue, you might suffer some complications if you were to get pregnant, so I would definitely suggest staying as you are," the doctor explained, his eyes down on the paper. Aimi sighed beside me.
"It seems that when we tested you, you were indeed ovulating from your blood tests. Your follicle-stimulating hormone, oestrogen levels and luteinising hormone levels are normal. No sexually transmitted diseases, the smear test was completely fine, no abnormal cells, no signs of lumps or abnormalities around your pelvis. Your internal was fine, it seems," he read off the papers quickly with a smile across his face, nothing worrisome to slow him down. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Aimi was fine.
"The liver function is normal, as are the skin cells we studied in the laboratory," he finished, leaning back, exhaling too and beaming at Aimi who looked as if she might fly. "So, everything is absolutely normal."
"So, I'm fertile?" Aimi breathed, her eyes dancing as she glanced at me, giving me an ear-splitting grin. "I'm fertile!"
Noguchi chuckled. "Yes, indeed you are. You should have no problem bearing Lord Gaara a child."
"Damn right!" she cheered, punching the air with a devilish smirk before pointing to me, her index finger inches from my nose. "Although don't you go getting any ideas. It's a long while off yet, mister."
The doctor seemed to perk up then, closing the sienna file and clasping his hands together on the desk. He observed us, our hands still laced together on Aimi's lap.
"Now, that reminds me. There is one more thing I've been asked to discuss with you on behalf of the council," Noguchi stated. "Since it is technically my job to oversee your… family planning, I have been asked to discuss contraception with the pair of you."
I immediately felt Aimi tense up a little, very pointedly not meeting my eyes, her back poker straight as she sat up. She was biting her lower lip, baby pink and full. I felt heat trickle down my torso at the sight of it, right down to the area between my legs that had once passed those lips, nestled deep in her throat.
Get a hold of yourself, I reprimanded myself, keeping my eyes on Aimi. It was her decision after all.
"Have you two discussed-?" Noguchi started, but he was cut off by Aimi.
"What are our options? You know, considering I'll be away on missions sometimes and we definitely won't be looking to conceive for a long while," she elaborated, leaning away from me then, onto the armrest opposite mine. It was almost as if she was embarrassed. When we'd already seen each other completely naked and when I could hardly call myself a virgin after that one incident of oral sex on my birthday, so long ago now.
"You could have something called the coil fitted-" Noguchi began but he stopped once he saw the grimace on Aimi's face, her clear displeasure for being probed, evident in this moment. Her internal examination had probably put her off for life. "But maybe that isn't suitable for you. We could also prescribe you the contraceptive pill but with such a busy lifestyle, it may not be suited to you. However, there is something called the contraceptive injection which contains the same agent as the contraceptive pill, it merely works for three months and then you will be required to come and get a top up."
"That sounds better," Aimi conceded, nodding sharply.
"How does that sound to you, Lord Gaara?" Noguchi questioned, turning to me.
"It's Aimi's body therefore it is her decision," I responded, squeezing Aimi's hand to let her know that I was here but that I wasn't about to suffocate her or tell her how to live her life. I would've been happy to utilize condoms if she didn't want to take any action.
After a few moments, I felt her squeeze back lightly and she gave me a small stunning smile. Was she really that nervous?
The doctor then made arrangements for Aimi to be given the injection there and then in the hospital, calling in a nurse to help him prepare the jab as he described to Aimi how it would work. I zoned out a little, my mind drifting to the morning's pedestrian traffic ledger I was supposed to look over today. I had already asked Kankuro to pick it up for me earlier but there was no telling that he'd have it back by the time we got home. And on top of that, I probably would need to go over the afternoon pedestrian traffic ledger later on. I needed to figure out a way to lessen bureaucracy and heighten proficiency.
I mulled over my thoughts as the nurse came over to Aimi's side, with a warm smile.
"Now, Miss, if you'll just either roll up your sleeve or else make your bicep visible," the nurse advised. Aimi didn't even flinch, reaching up for the zip on her catsuit and pulling it down to her midriff. I started to gaze to the opposite side of the room to give her a little privacy before remembering that I'd seen this dozens of times. And if we were going to live together, really live together, I'd only see it more frequently.
Thankfully, she wasn't wearing particularly racy underwear today, just a plain black bra, conservatively hiding her breasts. Even so, I couldn't help but admire her fair skin with that olive undertone. It looked so smooth as my eyes graced her neck, her clavicle, hidden by the tresses of hair falling down her front.
The nurse reached out for her arm, straightening it, her eyes appraising Aimi's face.
At that moment, Aimi suddenly grimaced, her features twisting as she squeezed her eyes shut. She gripped my hand tightly, clinging on as if her life depended on it.
"Lady Aimi, are you-?" the nurse began as she wiped her bicep down.
"She's fine, she just despises injections. It's probably best if she doesn't talk. She could be sick if she talks," I explained to the nurse, offering her a small smile in apology for Aimi's inability to communicate.
In all fairness, the doctor was gentle with her and within a minute, it was over, Aimi's whimpering nearly inaudible as the doctor injected her with progestogen.
"Well then, that's all done, Lady Aimi," Doctor Noguchi confirmed and Aimi sighed deeply, leaning back in the chair, her unbreakable grip on my hands relaxing.
"Do you feel sick?" I questioned, stroking circles on her hand with my thumb, wanting her to open those eyes and reassure me that she was okay.
She nodded, a look of exhaustion crossing her features.
"That's perfectly natural for someone who is a little squeamish," the doctor guaranteed, seating himself back down behind the desk, the nurse bustling around the desk, clearing up. "Can we expect to see you back here in three months' time? Hopefully you'll have been officially declared Kazekage by then, Lord Gaara."
I nodded to the doctor absent-mindedly in response, keeping my eyes firmly on Aimi.
She was more important to me than the Kazekage title anyway.
We exited the hospital swiftly, Aimi complaining about the mild ache of her arm, holding it gingerly.
"Do you think I'm a baby about stuff like this?" she asked me, wincing as we headed back for the apartment.
I tried to stifle a smirk. "What on earth could make me think that?"
She stuck her little pink tongue out at me, still clutching her arm. "I'm never getting stabbed for you again. At least not for another three months."
"It'll be worth it," I told her, reaching out for her other hand, the one next to me that she wasn't clutching as if she'd broken it.
God, she could be dramatic sometimes, I thought wryly, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. Who was I kidding? I loved it when she got like that, playing the damsel-in-distress. It made me want to protect her a little more. And I think she knew that.
She perked up then, releasing her arm and cocking her head towards me, her eyes glimmering, the slightly more dominant brown shades shining a strange sort of amber color as her face angled towards the sun due to our height difference. "What are you trying to say?" she said accusatively, raising an eyebrow.
I raised an eyebrow right back, challenging her. She already knew exactly what I was trying to say, I wasn't about to be coerced into playing her games. I loved this part of us. We were both strong personalities and we challenged and met each other's trials with vigor.
God help us if we ever get into a serious fight, I thought satirically, trying not to smile at her.
"Whatever," she murmured, smirking and biting her lower lip again as we headed back down the street, her hair curtaining her features, trailing in waves down her back. She shook her head and glanced at the sky, her locks picking up around her face in the light breeze, giving her an otherworldly look, as if she were more than merely mortal.
"Let's go out to lunch," I suggested, spotting several onlookers watching us once more. Was this how it would be from now on, people watching us, living vicariously through our relationship? I wasn't sure I minded at this moment in time as Aimi and I walked down the street. I couldn't find a reason to be disgruntled or displeased as I watched her hair dance around her face, her eyes light up at my proposal.
"Really? Aren't you too busy with work and stuff though?" she asked, trying to disguise her glee at my words. It was such a childish expression, so full of innocence that I was struggling not to kiss her right here in this bustling street with so many bystanders, it was like being on constant display.
"I can always make time. Besides, I don't sleep so I'll just do it tonight while we're in bed," I explained, unable to stop the images of her in just a T-shirt of mine filling my head, long toned legs on display for me as she walked around the room.
She was clearly thinking along a similar route with the dark smirk she shot me then, those eyes never looking dirtier, more like she was undressing me right there and then.
This was it about never knowing where I was. In the doctor's office, she was a little timid when it came to discussing sex and yet here in the street, at my clear intimation, she looked like she might devour me.
I had to forcibly calm myself down; tearing my eyes away from her, trying to desperately quell my body's eager reaction to her sheer sex appeal.
I took her to a local kaiseki restaurant, the best in the Sand village. Its roof was one of the only places in the entire village that had been fashioned even mildly like that of the Leaf village, a clay pavillion crowning the restaurant.
We entered to the sounds of plinking piano music playing overhead, dim lighting gracing the room, exuding a sense of evening. Several more plants were littered about the place, seeming to be in just as much abundance as customers.
More wasting money.
At that moment, a young waiter rushed towards us. "Lord Gaara! Lady Aimi! Good day to you both!"
Usually we'd have needed a reservation but the publicity this restaurant could gain from having us dine here was substantial enough for them not to bother. I was surprised they hadn't already asked for a photograph.
"A table for two, please," I requested, placing my hand lightly on the small of Aimi's back for support.
"Of course, of course!" the waiter agreed, gray eyes shining as he took us in, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. He led us to a table at the very back of the room, fully on show for all to see yet far enough away for other tables so that we wouldn't feel swamped.
Perfect I thought smugly, pleased that I'd have Aimi's attention all to myself for once. Usually, I had to share her with Kankuro or Temari or papers and scrolls from the elders.
Aimi sat opposite me, relaxing into her chair, looking up at me from under bold thick lashes. I watched as her eyes traced my features, my eyes, my mouth, my neck and then my clothes.
"I really like this new look, you know," she told me seriously, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, that damn smirk still on her face. I watched then, mesmerized as she opened her mouth a little, lips pouting. I watched her tongue trace snow white teeth and it was all I could do to suppress the urge to growl, unable to stop the rumbling in my chest.
"You look very sexy," she whispered, leaning forward across the table, resting her chin on her clasped hands, elbows propped up on the table. Unconsciously, I mirrored her movements, my gaze locking with hers, the intense look in her eye lighting a fire in my stomach, my body reacting again against my will merely from her expression.
And she is mine.
I wondered how Shukaku felt watching her. The desire I felt for Aimi seemed similar to the bloodlust I used to feel, an insatiable urge to conquer, to own. But with Aimi, it felt so much stronger, as if I could quite easily take her on this table so very roughly and with all of these people giving us sidelong glances and muttering to their companions about our presence.
And I could now that she'd have that injection, I could have her any single night I wanted her. So many minutes, so many hours were available for us to make love now.
The waiter came over at the moment, asking what drinks we would like.
I observed Aimi intently, knowing she would be the one to speak, watching her tongue dart out once more, licking her lips, giving them a luscious shine as she turned to the waiter and said, "Just two waters, please."
She looked back at me with that same ferocity again. "What?" she asked, biting the inside of her lip, teasing me. She knew perfectly well what. "Why are you looking at me like that? Your expression hasn't changed since we got here."
"Neither has yours," I commented haughtily, sitting up, unable to stop my eyes sliding down to her chest where her zip was open since she had not fully closed it since exiting the hospital, the shadows of her cleavage visible to me.
"You know, some days I find your strong silent elite thing really hot and then other days, I want to kick your ass for it," she remarked, just as the waiter came over and produced two waters. She tossed her hair behind her shoulder then, her smirk becoming a little more playful, less laced with sex as she teased me.
"And which is it today?" I questioned, merely humoring her, deciding to play along with this little game. I could have my way with her tonight, she could lead the conversation as much as she liked during the day; she knew the second we got in that bedroom tonight whom she belonged to, who was really in control. She could play these stupid games as much as she wanted, trying to push me out of my comfort zone, to say something that would empower her but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted me.
Tonight, I'd make her moan.
"Today, I think I'm kinda turned on by it," she muttered, knowing I was watching every facial expression, every pucker of her lips, and every flash of her eyes like it was so damn important. Everything she did was significant, sending a rush of electricity to the section of my body I would be thrusting into her throat tonight.
My upper lip curled as the waiter bustled over to us, asking us what we'd like to eat.
"He'll have miso soup, takiawase with chicken gizzards and gohan please," she noted to the waiter, looking up at him with those big doe eyes, radiating innocence, as if she hadn't just been whispering sex to me across the table in this dim evening lighting. The waiter didn't seem able to make eye contact with her, pointedly taking a note of her order, scribbling furiously. "And I'll have mukozuke, hiyashi-bachi and some gohan."
She looked back at me then with a coy smile twisting on princess pink lips as the waiter disappeared.
Delicious, I thought hungrily, refusing to allow a trace of emotion to enter my expression. This was how our sexual relationship best worked, one top, one bottom. It was a perfect match how she naturally fell into the submissive role, playing up outside of the bedroom so I would dominate her when we returned. She was so vocal with her emotions whereas I naturally was a stoic being, unfazed by passions and sentiments until I truly lost myself in her.
And we haven't even had sex yet, I mused, my expression steady, completely muffling the excitement that was spilling through my body at that thought of finally taking what was rightfully mine, making love to her, worshipping her.
"Gaara, you know when you're Kazekage?" she asked, her voice singing a little towards the end as she tailed off. I didn't respond, waiting for her to continue. "If you're not going to wear the hat, can I have it?"
It was all I could do to not groan as an image came to my mind involuntarily; her silky body sprawled out across the desk of my future office when I had ascended to position of Kazekage. The sunlight bathed her naked skin in a warm glow, so much flesh for my eyes to feast on as she held the forest green Kage hat to her head, which was thrown back in ecstasy as she moaned my name whilst I pounded into her.
My expression must have faltered at that moment because her face went dark again, that incorrigible smirk returning, knowing she was winning.
I hated that.
Damn it, where was that food so I could take her home already?
"You're preposterous," I observed, folding my arms and exhaling slowly, trying to relieve some of the tension I could feel building up in my body already.
"And you're hot as hell," she shot back, giving me a look that could easily have been mistaken for arrogance, one I had seen very often on her brother's face as she sat up suddenly, arching her back so that her curves became even more pronounced.
At that moment, the waiter who had served us and who had been unable to look Aimi in the eye called out to the entire room. "May I have your attention please? We've just received warning that a very large sandstorm is headed for the Sand village. We request that you evacuate immediately back to a safehouse as we are not licensed to keep customers on sight during such times and it is believed that it will most certainly last a couple of days. Please make your way home. Do not worry yourselves about payment."
Aimi and I sighed simultaneously. I had known it was coming indeed, as I had mentioned earlier but I thought I'd at least get to spend a mealtime with her.
"I hate it when you're right," she grumbled, getting to her feet and stretching.
But the prospect of a while indoors with her, completely hidden away from the rest of the world, without the burden of work was too great to pass up.
And so I replied, with a warm smile, a smile full of affection rather than lust, "I don't."
Author's Note: Would you like another chapter on Wednesday about 5000 words or say an 8000 word one next Saturday?
Also, I'm thinking of changing the name of this story to simply "The Shukaku And The Sharingan". Good idea or bad idea, guys? I'm a bit worried people'll think it's more about Shukaku and it's not. That bitch barely makes an appearance.
Also, now you've finished, go read Tango with Death by KiraChan44, the America to my soul. I love her deeply and I also genuinely really like the story. It's a GaaraOC about a girl named Kira and it's not AU, it's just a few OCs thrown into the Naruto world and it's just awesome. It's like this one, I guess! :) So yeah, go check it out.
Also, please leave me your tumblr handles so I can follow you and we can love each other on there too.
But yeah, when would you like me to post? I can do either Wednesday or Saturday.