Tenten2020 Week.

The Boneyard
Cut from Konoha:1931. Sasuke x Tenten

He heard the key tumble in the lock, and took up his place behind the door with the gun in his hand. The figure entered carefully, closed the door and locked it, before leaning against it heavily, their breath coming in short, choppy pants.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

"Either shoot me or help me out of this coat," the figure grumbled. "I can't move my arm."

He tucked the gun into the holster on his braces and moved quickly to help remove the long, dusty trenchcoat from the shoulders of his ally.

"Thanks," she breathed.

"What happened?"

"Drunks. Brawl outside of the pool hall. Got our bets in though," she tossed a handful of money on the counter. "They weren't real happy that some kid did better than them at the numbers. Luckily, they hated another guy worse." She winced as she reached her good arm up to remove the newsie cap from her head and loosen the collar of her shirt. "I'm covered in mud. I'm getting in the bath with my clothes on."

She kicked off her shoes, and laid her gun on the table. He eyed the weapon.

"Why didn't you defend yourself?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she retorted. "But there were three of them and I'm supposed to be a green kid; I don't start fights. I get out of them"

Sasuke Uchiha narrowed his eyes as Tenten Inuzuka, daughter of the former Chief of Police, widow to Officer Kiba Inuzuka, and rescuer of his children, limped her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Tenten reached for the knobs on the claw footed tub and started the water pouring. Soon, she climbed in and let the water run over her underclothes, resting her head on her knees.

She stifled the groan that threatened to break out to bounce around the white tiled room. She ached everywhere; she was just glad she missed getting hit in the face. Itachi told them three days ago this would be over very, very soon. They were just so close now. She ached to see the children.

She stood abruptly, and climbed out of the tub with a sob, swiping at her face. She slipped in her haste and slapped a hand at the tiled wall, causing Sasuke to call to her from outside of the door.

She heard the door creak open.

"Close the door, Uchiha." She said not turning around, fighting to keep her voice even. "I'm fine." She heard the door click. With a sigh, she leaned her back against the tub, and worked at trying to undo her hair with one hand, but it was going to be too hard. She held her breath and dunked under the water welcoming the relief. She tried to pull the undershirt off, but couldn't manage. She sighed in frustration.

"You going to ask for help, or are you going to be at this all night?"

She started to see Sasuke sitting on the closed seat of the john, arms crossed, waiting for her response.

"What the hell, Uchiha?" she asked, eyes flashing.

"You said to close the door," he shrugged. "I did."

"You know damned well I meant for you to be on the other side of it," she muttered, turning back around to cross her arms (painfully) and stare at her water wrinkled toes at the other end of the tub.

She heard him stand up.

"Come on," he sighed. "Let me help. I used to undo Sakura's when she was tired."

Tenten bit her tongue. Sasuke rarely mentioned his wife; her death was still too fresh and painful for him just as Kiba's was for her. She was silent for a moment. "Kiba used to help me," she admitted as he pulled the pins from the braid coiled on her head. "Of all the people not to have short hair," she imitated him with a half smile. "I think he liked it long, though." She sighed, leaning on the back of the tub.

"Sakura's was short for a long time," he said quietly, unwinding the heavy braid. "I think she missed it long though. She was growing it out." He undid the tie at the end of it, and put it over her shoulder.

She finger combed her hair quickly before ducking under the water again and reaching for the shampoo. She frowned. It had been there a second ago.

"Lean back," he said softly.

She looked over her shoulder at him and held his gaze for a moment. Wordlessly, she lowered her back to the curve of the tub. They were both battling demons tonight; demons that howled in the echos and caverns of their insides like the wind that blustered over Konoha. She suddenly had a very vivid memory of a shared bath with her husband and the night of lovemaking that had followed. They had been so very happy.

Her eyes flew open at the feeling of gentle and strong fingers on her scalp. She closed her eyes and tried to will away all memories and reactions – to go numb. Hadn't that always worked in the past? When she buried her father and husband and disappeared from the life she had known to help find the killer, that is what she had done.

Numbness was safe.

She'd have time to feel later.

But as powerful fingers worked their way through her hair, she had to fight to keep her emotional distance, as physical distance was not really an option. He reached for the pitcher that they used for their sink-baths and began to rinse her long, brown hair with a gentleness Tenten had only seen when he tended to his sleeping children. When he put the pitcher down, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and sat up carefully.

"Thanks," she said quietly before fishing out the chain and rubber stopper in the tub. She looked for a towel, but saw he had one in his hands for her. He reached out an arm and she used it to steady herself as she stepped out of the tub and onto the old, beat-up towel on the floor. He handed her the towel before frowning at her.

She followed his gaze to the ribs under her injured arm. Through the now translucent white fabric, he could see the bruises purpling her skin, peaking from under the binding, and along her hip and thigh. He arched an eyebrow at her.

"I fell," she admitted.

He stared at her.

"It was under two other people," she sighed. "Jammed my shoulder. Bruised a rib or two. It'll be sore but fine tomorrow."

He turned and grabbed the worn, oversized robe that probably once belonged to Teuchi and wrapped it around her shoulders. Wordlessly, he led her to stand in front of the fire. She wrapped the robe around her tightly, and began to twist her hair in the towel. She finger combed it to start it drying. He fetched her comb and came to stand behind her, carefully combing from the bottom of her hair up until he could run the comb smoothly in fluid strokes from crown to tip.

She felt her eyes close as a sigh of simple pleasure slipped out of her mouth. She glanced at the clock; she needed to get some sleep before heading back out in the morning. "I'd better get out of these wet clothes," she mumbled.

"I was about to suggest the same thing," he said quietly.

She stood very still, facing the gentle fire. She felt him move her hair to rest over her shoulder, his fingers light against her skin. He stood behind her and with a painstakingly slow and gentle motion, slid the robe from her shoulders to pool at her elbows.

She instinctively knew he was staring at her scar.

Sakura had been a good mother and loved her children. Uncomfortable with the idea of a full time nanny, she hired the spinster Hyūga sister that lived next door as governess to help care for the children. They spent hours with the woman and loved to wander in her gardens. Hinata had sent a note that she was sick and unable to attend the party, but had sent a very professional looking woman in her place. Tenten had slipped into the nursery to see the two Uchiha children as well as her own daughter and son. The four children got along famously, and she gave the woman a much needed break while she played with them. Sakura had come to check on the kids when they heard the first shots fired. Kiba had run into the nursery, her father behind him, his gun blaring.

"We're being attacked," he said without preamble. He pulled her up, kissed her hard, pressed a gun into her hand and said "get them out of here." Sakura was hurrying the children toward the maid's stairs, trying to keep them calm. Tenten kissed her husband one last time and took point. Sakura didn't shoot, so she rejected the offer of the gun Tenten had strapped to her leg. She handed the woman her knife instead, and ignored the strange look she got from her assortment of weaponry.

"Cop's kid," was all she said as they raced down the back stairs. Tenten saw a path to the garden; they could get to the Hyūga's place if they hurried. The sound of gunfire was getting closer and she picked up the smallest child – the Uchiha girl, and put her on her hip. She felt the sting of hot metal glide across her flesh as the hired nanny rounded the corner with a gun in her hand. Tenten dropped her with a single shot to the forehead. The noise alerted others of their position.

Always intelligent, Sakura quickly kissed her children good bye. "Do whatever Mrs. Inuzuka says," she said fiercely." She pressed several objects into her son's hands. "Watch over your sister," she said. "Tell daddy I love him." With that, she plucked the gun from the dead woman's hand, and asked Tenten to make sure it was still loaded..

"I'll distract them," she said bravely. "Protect my children." The women hugged, and Sakura allowed them to escape. In the confusion, she had gotten them to the Hyūga's property, shot the lock off of the root cellar and ushered the children down the stairs to hide before jamming something in the handles underneath to keep the door closed. She raced upstairs and found Hinata alone. She hadn't reported off; she had a note from Sakura saying she wouldn't be needed. She quickly comforted the children and tended to Tenten's wounds. They hid in the small attic loft where she and Hanabi had played as children. "Call Officer Uzumaki, Tenten instructed as she cradled the children in the bed with her. They huddled together that night, and many after it as they made their way to safety in secret with the help of the pale eyed governess and the blue-eyed officer. Every night Tenten apologized to Sakura for being unable to save her, but swore to protect the children.

His fingers traced the thin fading line that sliced across her back, etched in her skin while she hurried their children to safety. She had earned this permanent reminder of their shared torment even as she returned fire, killed the assailant, and secured their escape.

She shivered at his featherlight touch.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice a low, husky whisper in her ear. She half turned over her shoulder before shaking her head no.

He brushed his knuckles down her arms with an aching gentleness, and the robe fell to the floor. His fingers had drifted to play at her sides, rolling the hem of the undershirt (which she had probably taken from him over the last year) between his fingers. "Good," he said softly. He began to absently circle his fingertips along the contour of her waist, working his way along the flesh below her bindings and above her underwear. He noticed the slight wince.

He turned her toward him, gently, keeping his fathomless obsidian eyes locked on her hazel. His hands were at her waist, his thumbs were stroking their pattern up and down from her hip bones, and he rested his forehead against hers as he pulled her closer.

"Show me," he said quietly. She looked up at him, unsure. He helped her remove the undershirt and began to work at the bindings constricting and concealing her from him. He unraveled them from around and around her taut middle and surprisingly full breasts. She had had a life of training – of sports and outdoors. Where Sakura's body had been smooth and supple, hers was lithe and strong. She was hard planes where Sakura had been gentle curves. He found he relished the feel of her muscles beneath is fingers. He watched the firelight play over her skin as the binding fell to the floor, leaving her in the constricting bra and men's underwear. He gently fanned his fingers across the bruises that ran down her ribcage. He deciphered the pattern of mottled bruising and frowned.

"They kicked you," he said quietly, tracing his finger over the mark.

"I might have kicked him back," she said in as steady a tone as she could manage

It felt like an eternity while they stood there, his hands steady on her heated flesh. She gently cupped his cheek and sought his gaze. He was only half surprised to see her eyes damp with silent tears.

"I am so sorry," she whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek. "I am so… so very sorry."

"I know," he said holding her gaze steadily. She searched his face before giving a small nod. He held her close, though and covered her hand in his own as he turned to kiss her palm. Threading his fingers in hers, he returned her hand to his hip before wrapping her in a warm embrace. "I know," he assured her quietly as she rested her head against the thin fabric of his undershirt. There, they swayed to the thrum of their aching heartbeats, as the firelight danced over them in solace.