So CarlaFox1997 left me a review on the previous ficlet - what if Tsunade finds that picture again after Jiraiya was dead? So I took it and ran =)

Secret Memories

Tsunade sighed, sitting back in her chair. Paperwork was a sure way to kill a brain faster than any other form of torture. The monotony, endless stacks…where was her sake?

The blonde Hokage rooted around in her desk, looking for that one secret drawer she had kept from Shizune for just such emergencies as these. Where was the catch…oh, there it was.

With a snick, one of the wood panels in the desk popped out, revealing a hole in the desk only two people knew existed – well now, one. It had been built in by the Shodaime, passed down to the Nidaime, then the Sandaime as the Nidaime's student, and to her being the Shodaime's granddaughter. All the previous owners of the desk were gone, leaving only Tsunade.

She reached in, pulling out that one special bottle of sake she kept for certain occasions. Jiraiya had given it to her when he came back from one of his many missions, and it was how he had presented it to her that made it special.

Her fingers brushed against the other mementos she kept in that drawer and she smiled, pulling them out.

A hand drawn picture by Nawaki of both him and his older sister holding hands.

A pair of earrings from the Shodaime for her seventh birthday.

A cute stuffed animal she had been given as a baby by her parents, uncannily looking like Katsuyu.

But there had been another…she reached into the desk again, and pulled out the flat photo, edges curled slightly with age. The frame had broken long ago, and while she had repaired it and put other photos in, this one was too special to keep far away.

It was the picture Jiraiya had given her on her sixth birthday – himself, shirtless, and a thumbs up directed at the camera.

Tsunade chuckled, remembering her reaction to the present. She had hit him so hard over the head Mito had to heal the boy right there in the family room, even while her grandfather was laughing hard enough to fall off the chair he was sitting on.

"You idiot," she whispered affectionately, running her fingertips over the spikes of his even then white hair. "You tried to do that again, but it was never quite as good as this one."