Author's Note: See first chapter.

Near Miss

Jiraiya's fingers hovered an inch above Tsunade's quaking shoulders. If he touched her, she would turn. She would vent her hurt on him in one freakishly strong blow. It would have been a pure relief to be the object of her temper just then.

Orochimaru snorted, smiling at Jiraiya and Tsunade both in that insufferable, superior manner of his.

It was a measure of her grief that she never even noticed how close he came to touching her.

Dan had been dead an hour.

He was gone, and Jiraiya was sick to his stomach.

Because he still couldn't touch her.

Turns

The flush of liquor filled her face and colored her cleavage. She smiled brightly. Jiraiya smiled back, raising his cup with her. They celebrated a night of winning. Tsunade's luck - it seemed - had finally improved.

They drank and ate. Her treat.

At one point, Tsunade leaned forward on her crossed arms. Her breasts strained against the front of her shirt but Jiraiya, for once, was more interesting in the warm look in her eyes.

"Why don't we do this more often?" she asked.

"Because you are a terrible gambler," he told her. She laughed.

The next day, Orochimaru betrayed Konoha.

Chances

Being Godaime agreed with Tsunade the same way motherhood agreed with some women. She glowed with it. Jiraiya could only stand back and watch dumbfounded.

She looked younger - really looked younger, in a way that had nothing to do with skills or illusions. The cynical, jaded edge was gone from her eyes when she smiled at Konoha, working for her home.

He wasn't fool enough to picture what could have been between them. There were no babies in his mind, or grandchildren he would never have.

But he wished that just once...

...she would have smiled that way at him.

All of our Past

Jiraiya found her far from the celebration, shielded from the noise and youthful exuberance. She sat on a bench, drinking while she gazed up at the old Hokages' faces.

He sympathized with her. He knew what it meant to lose another of their generation, with more of them dead, now, than living. He knew how it felt when the hero of the day was young enough to be your grandson.

He knew that if he were anyone else, she wouldn't have invited him to sit with her. But because he was who he was, he sat and shared her sake.

In the End

Jiraiya didn't have the energy to be excited before a battle anymore. The memory of waking up the morning before a mission with anything other than aching joints was dark with age.

Children these days were monsters. He doubted he was ever so bloodthirsty.

The giant snake, Manda, slithered toward Konoha, deceptively sedate. There was no surprise to it. No ploy. The figure on his head stood straight, proud, and utterly implacable. Once, perhaps, this would have put butterflies in his stomach. Now, he just felt tired.

Tsunade found his and squeezed. "Have one fight left in you, old man?"