Sakura smoothed down the front of her dress for the fourth time in the last 7 minutes. She turned to check the clock on her wall, 7 Pm. She turned back to her full-length mirror, checking her dress, hair, and makeup again.

She couldn't remember the last time she went to a formal event, oh yes she did, with Sasuke. His family hosted the Konoha Winter Festival Ball every year and for the last three years, she had gone as his date. She bit her lip, that had been months ago and she had known Sasuke all her life...and his family.

This was different, this was a date. Wait, was this a date? Maybe he was asking her as a friend? He hadn't said. She bit her lip again," Oh no, I'm going to make a fool of myself aren't I?" She said to her reflection. She could have sworn she saw the bitch nod.

Sakura turned from her mirror to her clutch and her heels on her bed. She would wait to put on her heels till it was closer to 8 pm. She checked her clutch, money, I.D, phone and a book knife Sasuke had given her on their 1 yr anniversary. Satisfied she had everything she needed she picked up her heels and her clutch dropped them off on the stand by her front door and sat down carefully on her couch.

She hoped her dress wouldn't wrinkle as she opened her book.

Fifty minutes later a soft knock drew her from her reading. She rose, setting her book on her coffee table and answered the door.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. Warranted she had only ever seen him in jeans and tee shirts or slacks and a polo shirt, but nothing could have prepared her for the dashing spectacle before her.

His suit was a designer flat black, his french cuffs were linked with diamond cuff links to his black silk shirt. He wore no vest but the smooth silk tie hung a stark white to its black background. Sasori stood there surveying her placidly. He took in her white bodice top that fell into a feathered black dusting of a short skirt in front, cut back from long panels of black silk that followed her legs to the floor.

Sakura smiled remembering herself. "Good evening Sasori."

"Sakura." He nodded.

She leaned against the wall and strapped her small heels on, grabbed her clutch and locked her door stepping out onto the foyer next to him.

His eyes raked over her body once more before he offered her his arm. She slipped her arm in his and they made their way down the stairs to his car. Sasori opened the door for her and she smiled at him as she slipped into the smooth leather seat.

For the brief moment it took him to walk to the diver's side of the vehicle she wondered, did he find her as attractive as she found him right now? He hadn't complimented her on her dress, but of course, she hadn't complimented him on his suit. She shook her head slightly, not all men were as vain as Sasuke she reminded herself.

Sasori turned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

"The showing isn't until 9 pm, I'm afraid I have to show up just before opening to go over a few things with the gallery. It will be brief, after which you will have my full and undivided attention." He assured her as they pulled onto the on-ramp to the freeway.

"Of course Sasori, are you helping to run the event?" She asked.

"Of sorts." He agreed to her statement vaguely.

She hummed her interest and watched the lights of the city come into view.

"It's in Konoha?" She asked him seeing they were getting off at the Konoha city exit.

"Yes, downtown."

She fidgeted with her clutch, downtown, next to the police station. She knew the gallery well. This was a black and white event...would the Uchiha be there? She bit her bottom lip nervously.

"Is something wrong?" Sasori glanced over at her, noting how white her knuckles on her clutch were where she had it in a death grip.

"No, sorry, uh, no." She stammered.

"Sakura, don't lie to me." He said quietly.

"Don't hide from me." He said more gently.

"Oh uh, okay, I'm sorry, I am just worried that I am going to run into people I know." She told him truthfully.

"The Uchiha?" He knew.

"Yes."

"It is a possibility, but I hear most of them failed to RSVP, so most will not be in attendance." He tried to reassure her.

Her grip on her clutch lessened partially as he pulled into the gallery, up the winding drive to the front by the valet.

"We don't have to stay long if you are uncomfortable, I really think you will enjoy the art though." He waited, ignoring the valet outside of his window for her to answer.

"Ah no, I'm sorry, it is silly of me." She tried to smile at him.

Sasori nodded and turned to his door, the valet opened the door and another opened Sakura's door. They stepped out of the car, Sasori handing the keys to the first valet and taking Sakura's hand tucking it into his arm and pulling her close to his body.

"Enjoy your evening Mr. Akasuna." The valet bowed as Sasori passed. Sasori either hadn't heard him or ignored him as they walked by, up the stairs and into the open lights of the gallery.

Sakura looked around, hardly anyone else was there. A small woman in white rushed up to her and Sasori a wide smile on her face.

"Mr. Akasuna, you're here, wonderful wonderful. Please come with me." The woman tried to take him by his arm but he pulled away. Nothing daunted she just grinned at him and led the way out of the main hall back into the more private area of the gallery. Sakura knew it to be where the artist being recognized for their work was interviewed before a showing. Her heart skipped a beat. This showing, it was Sasori's. His hand came up to cover hers when her grip on his arm tightened fractionally.

"If you are uncomfortable, you could wait here if you like." He stopped so she could sit on one of the many chairs that lined the more intimate showcases they had passed.

"This is your showing isn't it?" She asked him.

"I wanted to share it with you." He said.

His words were simple and few but they said much.

"So, this is a date?" She smiled.

"Was that not clear?" He asked her cocking his head to the side.

"No, but it is now. I'll wait here if you don't mind?" She smiled at him as he nodded.

"I won't be long." He promised and left to follow the now impatient small woman who was glaring at Sakura.

Sakura watched him walk around the corner and then turned to her surroundings. There were paintings on the wall of flowers. She never understood that. Who cares about flowers enough to paint them? If she wanted to look at flowers she would buy some or go out to a field to look at wild flowers. She would never understand why this was considered art.

She walked slowly up one wall of the private area and then down another as it curved around the corner. More flowers. She scoffed, did this artist know how to paint anything but flowers, she mused as she looked at another painting of colorful flowers. They all looked alike for kami's sake.

"Not to your liking?" A slow deep voice asked her from behind.

Sakura turned slowly to look at the owner of the voice, the familiar deep voice.

"Madara." She smiled.

"You look ravishing Sakura." he purred as he came up next to her and looked at the painting she had been looking at.

"Yes, I see what you mean." He said.

"I didn't say a thing." She grinned at him.

This was a game they played. He would pretend to know her thoughts and she would pretend he was correct. More often than not, he was.

"Your less than subtle scoffing said it all love." He turned to her then and took in her dress, her hair, her heels.

"I meant it, you look absolutely ravishing, Love." he stepped closer to her placing a large warm hand at the small of her back leaning into her space.

A cough from behind him, "Am I interrupting?"

Sakura tensed slightly, Madara with his hand on her back felt it and turned quickly to the younger man.

"You are." Madara rose to his substantially taller height and looked down on the boy.

"Am I? Sasori asked, leaning a little to the left so that he was directly in Sakura's line of sight.

"What is this?" Madara looked from Sasori to Sakura.

"It was a date until you interrupted.' Sasori drawled at the older man, not at all intimidated by the Uchiha that had most men cowering in his presence.

"A date?" Madara looked down at Sakura who blushed.

"No, Sakura, do you know who he is he's…" Madara stopped speaking when she placed a small but firm hand on his chest.

"This is Sasori, he is in my art class, at the university. Yes, it is a date. It was nice seeing you Madara, please give my regards to the family, I will see you soon. Perhaps next weekend."

She smiled and walked to where Sasori was waiting, his arm out. She stepped into his embrace, his arm snaked around her waist drawing her possessively to his side and they walked around the corner. Sasori looked back once, to smirk in Madara's face before they disappeared from view.

Madara stood there his fist clenched into a ball. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Sasuke. Why is Sakura at the gallery with Akasuna no Sasori?" Madara growled at his nephew.

"What?"

"You heard me boy, I thought you warned her about him." Madara paced back and forth as he gripped his phone.

"I did but they go to school together, he lives upstairs from her, wait did you say the gallery, she is on a date with him?" Sasuke's voice was getting louder.

"Yes. Now I understand you weren't mature enough to keep a woman like her but I thought you were a good enough friend not to let her date our clan's rival's son." Madara hung up the phone.

Sasori ushered Sakura out into the main gallery where his show would take place. Lifting two glasses from a passing waiter he handed one to her and inclined his head.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting." The look in his eye betrayed the courtesy of his words.

"There is a history there, between your family and the Uchiha, that I am not a part of, nor do I wish to be." She said pointedly.

"If you become collateral damage Sakura, it will not be because of me." His response was not very reassuring.

"Collateral damage…" She looked at him curiously.

"I am not my father Sakura," Sasori said softly to her as he brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"Oh, well, good." She blushed and looked away.

The main doors of the gallery opened and people began filing in one after another in twos and threes. Sasori made a small groaning noise in the back of his throat.

"What is it?" Sakura asked him.

"I don't like crowds." He admitted.

"Look at them, milling around, like rats in a cage." His eyes narrowed at the humanity flooding in around them.

Sakura laughed bringing him out of his rut. He had seemed to have forgotten she was there as he glared down at the masses, like some evil puppetmaster. Bloodlust flooded his mind. His fingers twitched and he gripped his hand into a fist, resisting the urge. A small hand fell over his and he blinked.

"Sasori." Sakura's voice brought his head to hers. Bloodlust receding inch by inch as he looked at her face.

"Show me your art." She smiled at him.

"Of course." He nodded taking her hand and tucking it into his arm once again.

With a fake smile plastered to his lips, he led the way to the main floor, nodding to his fellow elites as they passed, stopping for a small word here and there.

Finally stopping in a far corner of the room by some of his art displayed on a black backdrop with dim lighting.

"Oh." Sakura gasped as she stood before the first piece.

It was a woman, but not a woman. It was fear. Her face was distorted in a scream, her hands clawing at her cheeks, streaks of blood flowing over nail and skin. The form of her killer reflected in her wide eyes. The skin taut with strain, the lines deepened by stress.

"Do you know what it is Sakura?" Sasori asked her.

"Fear," Sakura whispered, the words barely from her lips before his mouth curved into a smile.

"And this one?" He turned her with his arm.

A woman, splattered in blood, mouth open in a scream, but not of terror, of lust and want, her arms above her head, held by invisible hands as her head, thrown back, chest pushed out as if she is struggling against her lover, hair wild behind her back, flared out and stuck to the blood on the wall behind her, pinkish white tresses stained blood red in spots.

"Desire."

"Yes." Sasori drew her closer with his arm. "Desire."

Sakura stood there next to him, against him and looked. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was her imagination but the woman in the last picture it looked, like her. A shiver went through her body.

"You're cold. We can leave." Sasori led her back to the front of the gallery.

"One moment." Sasori dropped his arm from her waist. When she turned he was gone.

"Sakura, let me drive you home," Madara spoke from beside her.

"We were just leaving, it isn't necessary Madara, but thank you for the offer." She smiled politely at her best friend's uncle.

"Yes, Uchiha. We were just leaving." Sasori took Sakura's hand and tucked it under his arm drawing her toward the door.

"I'm watching you Akasuna!" Madara called after them.

"I know." Sasori pulled Sakura closer to him as he handed his slip to the valet.

"We don't have to leave because of me." Sakura protested.

"You saw what I wanted you to see." Sasori stepped forward opening the door for her himself when their car was ready.

"Fear and desire?" She asked.

"Exactly." He shut the car door and walked to the other side handing a bill to the valet without looking at him.

Sakura thought about what he had said when they had gotten into his car. Fear and desire. Why would he want her to see those specifically, she knew there had been ten other paintings there that she hadn't seen.

"Sasori?"

"Yes?'

"Why fear and desire?"

"It is what drives you the most," he told her.

"How do you know?"

"I can see it in you."

"In me"

"Yes." he said.

"How?"

"Your words, your actions, now."

"You see fear and desire in me now?" she asked timidly.

"Yes."

"Explain."

"Your desire to know why I did what I did, your fear that you don't know what drives me to do what I do."

"Oh."

"Am I wrong Sakura?"

"No."

"Sasori?

"Yes?"

"Thank you for tonight."

"Tonight isn't over Sakura."