Hiya.

22-06-2020 edit: Gaara's new jutsu was a whimsical addition. But it works. :)

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Chapter Three: Up Close and Personal.
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"I think you should fuck that one," Kankuro said, pointing shamelessly to a blonde girl who looked barely out of her teens.

Gaara snorted: that was the stupidest thing his brother had said so far, and Kankuro had said some pretty dumb things over the past hour. "No," he said gruffly.

"Seriously Gaara, what's the point of being Kazekage if you don't take advantage of it?"

"I'm looking for a receptionist, not a lover."

Kankuro laughed. "Yeah, right."

"Temari's scared another one off."

Gaara had created a jutsu that allowed others to see what he saw when he activated his third eye and was currently employing it so they could both watch their sister scare the pants off the girls out in the hallway. It made the image larger, but slightly fuzzy; it had been a battle bred technique, but Kankuro was the type of sibling that whined until he got what he wanted. That was why Gaara relented; the best analogy for this was a portable television.

Kankuro snorted. "I think she's just thinning the herd."

But Gaara didn't mind: the last three she'd chased out had been dressed like they were auditioning for Suna's skankiest hoe, rather than sorting through tedious paperwork. He appreciated that each and every girl sitting out there was an interesting specimen of the female body, but this was not the time and place for that. He wasn't a prude, just picky.

His sister was prowling up and down the line, randomly telling one or more to leave before she wrung their "pretty little neck". The ones who bravely faced her thinking that might endear them to her, or the redhead they were really here for, were forcibly removed from the building in such a way that the other girls had started visibly shaking in fear. Every girl out there was at least an hour early for their respective interviews, and there was only one person who hadn't shown up yet.

Kankuro hadn't noticed this however, his eyes raking the bodies waiting out there, not counting the heads.

There was a loud screech, followed by a thumping sound and before Gaara could have the next girl who wasn't quite so scantily clad brought in, Kankuro shunshined out of the room obediently. Some of the girls had experience, so the Kazekage decided to give them a go—he asked questions, their eyes travelled over his body, he tested them, and as was predicted, they made mistakes.

After the dramatic exit of a now dishevelled fifteen-year-old red head (the last of the girls that hadn't been chased off by Temari before they could even enter the office), Gaara sighed, almost defeated. This was going nowhere. His brother re-entered the office, chuckling. "Temari's having more fun than you are."

"That was never not going to happen."

"I liked that blonde one," Kankuro said, whistling. "Do you mind if I tap that?"

Gaara didn't respond, just frowning; he was watching the next applicant, through his third eye. From the moment she'd been let in the building, he'd been watching her; arriving at a more appropriate time, this one was suitably dressed, though obviously frightened by his sister's tactics (it frightened him a little, not that he'd ever admit it), and wore no ostensive makeup. She looked professional.

Surprising.

He looked down at the paperwork in front of him: her name was Sayuri Nakayama, hailing from the land of iron. She'd only recently moved here, which wasn't something he was too comfortable with, but it explained why she wasn't dressed like a harlot. Perhaps she wanted this job for the right reasons?

"Hm."

Kankuro peered through the sand eye jutsu, and then read the dossier over his brother's shoulder. As was expected by someone as high ranking as the Kazekage, Gaara had taken the time to research all of his potential receptionists. While a handful of them had filing and sorting experience, only one knew, for example, the difference between Rank A and Rank C when it came to village-wide alert status.

"She's cute," Kankuro commented. "But she doesn't show off enough—" He broke off as Gaara's sand hit his stomach, and then gasped. "O-okay, I'll l-leave you alone with her." He teleported out.

Gaara restrained from chuckling, turning his attention now, to what was going on outside his office.

Temari's eyes flickered over the folder in Sakura's hands, back up to her face and then it dawned on her. Her lips twisted into an evil grin.

"Next victim."

For what seemed like an eternity, the blonde just stared at the girl in front of her. Implying pain and suffering was, at times, as bad as actually following through on said threat. Temari's eyes glinted as she raked Sakura, thinking this just another civilian, showing without acting, just how much she wanted to eviscerate her. It was a scare tactic that the Konoha Kunoichi was personally familiar with—she did it to Naruto often enough. It was terrifying.

"Temari, stop blocking the door and let her in."

Sakura almost let down her façade, realising she hadn't heard Gaara's voice in years. It was so strange to hear it drift through the half open door as though he was standing next to her and not over ten feet away. It was huskier than she remembered.

Remembering she had legs, Sakura walked toward the door, not looking toward the Kazekage as his sand shot up and closed the door, deliberately locking Temari out of the room.

"Miss Nakayama," Gaara said politely. "Please come further in—I won't bite you."

Sakura nodded lamely and moved toward his desk; there was no chair provided, but she didn't complain. She finally looked at him, the feel of his eyes on her drawing her attention. He'd grown into his good looks, that was for sure, and once where she admitted he was cute, he was now absolutely gorgeous. His hair was a slightly darker shade of crimson, his face leaner, having lost his child-like appeal (it was more like captivating now). She struggled to look him in the eye; he was calm and collected, looking her over, while she was trembling inside. No doubt, she looked as nervous as she felt.

Sakura cleared her throat and bowed appropriately. "Kazekage-sama, thank-you for seeing me."

His eyes drifted to the paperwork in front of him, not really taking in much other than the list of administration skills. He was making her nervous, this was obvious; she was flushed, avoiding eye contact and leaving it up to him to carry the conversation. He didn't want the person he finally decided on, to be his secretary, scared of him. There was a better way to do this. In a flash, he was out of his chair and standing in front of her. He watched her eyes widen, her hands tremble, and the folder in her arms pressed firmly against her chest.

"I've read your file," he said, his voice deep. "But now I want to know the real you."

His hand shot up, not too fast, not too slow; his fingers danced over her arm. Sakura had chosen to wear something closer to the kind of clothes worn by receptionists in Sakata—the innocuous town Tenzou's samurai cover had claimed he was from originally, that she'd incorporated into her own. No matter where Hayato's duties had taken him, Sayuri was a hometown kind of girl. The uniform was an offshoot: stringent on the grey and red colours.

Currently, Gaara's fingers seemed interested in the material of her thin blouse (it was red while the vest was grey—not fashionable, but at least predictable for a civilian who took her job seriously). A flash of something along the lines of intrigue registered on his face before he leant in closer to her. His face was two inches from hers as he cocked his head to the side, smirking slightly. Sakura felt like she suddenly weighed a tonne; her legs threatened to give way and she was struggling to breathe. What the hell was the Kazekage doing?

His mouth went to her ear and he whispered, "I want to know what you feel like."

Gaara was coming onto her; Sakura froze up, suddenly scared. His lips trailed down her now heated flesh, reaching the pulse point; his fingers pushed aside the collar of her blouse to get at her and she hugged the folder tighter to her chest at the dizzying sensation of his tongue on her bare skin.

What do I do?

On one hand, she needed him right where he was, running his hands along her arm and licking her pulse point. But on the other hand, they'd just met; and she wasn't entirely sure whether this was a dream or a nightmare. The last girl that came this way was scared off by Temari; the idea of the oldest Sabaku brandishing her iron fan at Sakura with intent to maim sent shivers down her spine. That redheaded fifteen-year-old girl had apparently groped Gaara.

I'm not groping him.

And she wasn't this easy, mission or no mission.

Pull away Sakura… She repeated the mantra, having trouble with the actual execution part of that plan.

"Kaze‒" She tried to put her thoughts into coherent words, willing her body to stop trembling, but it fell apart when Gaara purred. He purred! And it was his turn to speak; the words that fell out of his mouth as easy as breathing literally took her breath away. Her face must've turned beet red—it certainly felt like it had. But along with the embarrassment, and the part of her that was tantalised by this very forward Kazekage, she was also suddenly angry. Violent fantasies invaded her mind and she had to hold herself back from hitting him. She took a deep breath.

This has to be covered in workplace sexual harassment policies, she thought distractedly.

If Tsunade could see her now, the woman would be chanting "take him on the desk, you fool". But she couldn't—no, she wouldn't—leave him here today with the impression that she was a slut. Besides, the mission didn't dictate she had to act like some barnyard whore: it wasn't really her style anyway. Sakura closed her eyes, inwardly lamented at what she was about to do, and took a hasty step away from the Kazekage. Immediately, the heat radiating through her body disappeared and she looked up into surprised pools of light green.

"Kazekage-sama," she said softly, trying to retain as much of her dignity as she could. "That was completely wrong."

No matter how good it had felt. Gaara's expression quickly changed and she saw the relief.

What the hell?

He returned to his position behind his desk and watched her attempts to recover. There was only one explanation for his seemingly irrational actions.

It was a test. It was a test. It was a test…

She let out a deep sigh, unable to hide her relief. Oh, thank Kami. And it all suddenly made sense—the Kazekage had more admirers than a candy store. Of course, he was testing her! And not for the first time, she felt wholly inadequate in this game they were playing. Sakura attempted to appear less ruffled than what she was feeling, frowning at her prospective employer and feeling a little of her old self filter through as she glared at him.

He chuckled at her. "You're wrong about that, it was very good."

Oh god, shut up!

But she just sighed, straightening her blouse unnecessarily. He gave her a slight smile that looked almost as fake as the ones Sai used to deliver on a daily basis; except this one didn't morph his entire face like the artist's so-called smiles tended to do. It was more like an un-cheeky smirk. She wasn't sure how else to describe it.

"You're hired."

Sakura had a sudden, uncontrollable flashback to when she was still a Genin and Kakashi's words after their bell test. Gaara's "you're hired" echoed "you pass" and she inwardly shuddered at the comparison. Both tests had been delivered by a special brand of psycho.

Fuck.

...

Temari gave her the evil eye when she was finally allowed back in the room, making no attempts to hide her dislike of the woman her brother had chosen. Sakura had to keep reminding herself that she was just being an overprotective big sister, and while this was personal, she was also a rational human being. She'd get over it eventually.

Immediately after being told she was hired, Sakura let out an involuntary yelp as Kankuro appeared out of nowhere. The puppet master proceeded to run down her responsibilities, the "shake down" as he put it, of her job description, and took her on a tour of the building. She was shown the emergency exits, where the tearoom and bathroom respectively, she was allowed to use were; Sakura took it all in silently. Kankuro even jumped behind the desk she would be using and printed out a copy of her hours, Gaara's schedule (he made her pinkie promise not to tell his brother she was getting that right away), and a layout of the building in case she ever got lost.

He was sweet, and for that, she was grateful; at least it was only one Sabaku sibling with her name on their "must kill" list. If she'd really been a civilian, she might've wondered why Gaara didn't just hire his siblings part-time—Kankuro looked like a natural behind that desk. It did occur to her however, that maybe a man instead of some random girl who might try to glomp him, would even be better. But she didn't ask; she supposed he had his reasons.

The words he'd whispered in her ear during his "test" made her blush inexplicably and served to explain, at least on some level, why he didn't mind a woman hanging around his office all day.

Kankuro finished the tour, told her that she could go home for now—apparently, Gaara would be in a meeting with the council for the rest of the day—and to have everything he needed ready by nine o'clock the next morning.

Tenzou was waiting for her when she came back. She started visibly shaking the moment the door closed behind her and Sakura let out a longwinded sigh. He could see the frustration building up in her, and again, the wood master wondered why Naruto had chosen her specifically for this mission.

"Sakura."

His voice startled her, and she started. "Haya‒"

"Drop the façade," Tenzou said. "Just let it go for a moment; this place is free of bugs and I've placed chakra detectors around both the building and the apartment itself. Just tell me what's wrong Sakura; straight up."

Sakura wasn't comfortable with this, but there was no-one else she could talk to about this. Treading carefully, she inched into the apartment, stopping at the coffee table and plopping down on the couch with a soft hiccupping sound.

"Hm." She sighed. "I wasn't expecting the Kazekage to come onto me."

There, she said it.

Tenzou chuckled. "Sorry," he added, when she glared at him. "But it's funny."

"It is not!"

Now he was laughing at her.

"It's not funny!" Sakura waited for him to stop laughing, but he kept going. The Tenzou she knew wasn't this jovial. What the hell was his problem?

He calmed down when she lost her infuriated look. "Sorry Sakura, but it is funny. Continue."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "As long as you promise not to laugh."

He crossed his heart and she rolled her eyes. "Promise."

She took a deep breath and told him everything. "He startled the shit out of me, asking to be stroked!"

Tenzou's eyes widened. "And what did you do?"

That had been too forward, even for someone as tactless as the Kazekage.

Sakura bristled. "I wanted to kick his arse from here to Konoha!"

"But you didn't."

"Of course not," she snapped, barely listening to him. "What kind of ninja do you take me for?"

"Honestly? I'd have thought a smart one," he said. Sakura growled dangerously at him and he attempted to explain. "You didn't realise him coming onto you was his way of testing you, to make sure you weren't some random fangirl?"

"I knew he was testing me."

"Before, during, or after?"

Sakura growled. "After."

Tenzou bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing again. "Well, I'm glad you're in one piece. Temari's a strong woman, and if she'd caught you in that compromising position…"

Sakura shuddered at the thought. "Shikamaru warned me, but I have to say, she's a lot scarier than I remember."

"Well, you had no reason to fear her then, and she was probably a little intimidated herself."

"Huh?"

Tenzou shrugged his shoulders. "You have a temper, super strength, and the legendary slug queen as your mentor."

Sakura shook her head. "She wasn't intimidated by me."

He fell silent, replaying what she'd told him in his head. There was something in it, that wasn't quite adding up. Tenzou frowned. "Uh, Sakura?"

"Hm?"

"What did Naruto tell you about the Kazekage?"

Sakura shrugged. "Just that he's not in a relationship, that he knew, and some ridiculous idea that I was going to catch his eye immediately."

Tenzou tugged on the edge of her shirt absentmindedly. "Anything else?"

"No, why?"

"Because he's definitely set you up, Sakura."

"Huh?" She'd accused Naruto of not telling her everything, but from the moment he suggested the mission to the last time she'd seen him before leaving, Sakura hadn't been able to get any more out of him. It was Shikamaru who'd told her the only thing useful regarding Gaara—don't touch his sand without permission.

"Rumours that he's an incorrigible flirt only heighten his popularity," Tenzou said, sighing deeply, and wondering whether or not Naruto had a death wish—she was going to kill him when they got back. "Everyone I talk to says there have been girls he's invited into his bedroom before. I'd say, knowing he likes the occasional romp gives them hope that they'll be next: or that he'll finally settle down and choose between all his gushing fans for a wife."

Everything was suddenly coming into focus. These girls weren't fawning over the Kazekage hoping for a smile or some kind of indication he knows they exist they're in it for the long haul. The stakes were high if every one of these women (and men, regardless of sexual preference) were waiting for him to choose a wife.

It sounded ridiculous though (not that she could talk, being a former Sasuke Uchiha fangirl), and Sakura couldn't help but wonder what those rumours said about his uh…performance. She blushed slightly, turning her head in an attempt to hide it from Tenzou. The man was happily leaning back on his end of the couch, waiting for her to start the conversation up again.

She'd wondered if the heat, the attention, and having to constantly be on guard for the next random fangirl had finally driven the Kazekage mad. The way Gaara had come onto her, his words both before and after she'd pulled away… yeah, there was a definite pattern.

Sakura cleared her throat. "So… what you're saying is that he really did enjoy what he did to me?"

Tenzou nodded silently and Sakura inhaled sharply. There was only one explanation, and according to the wood master, Naruto had known all along: the Kazekage was a pervert.

"Look on the bright side," Tenzou said, patting her arm in an obnoxiously brotherly way. "At least he'll be easier to seduce this way."

Sakura let out a groan in both frustration and embarrassment and buried her head in her hands.

…

XXX

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No: Gaara isn't a man whore. Lotsa love! ^_^

R&R.

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