Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
As Sakumo pushed his way through the swinging double doors into the lobby of the hospital, the baby nestled in his arms began to wake. Pudgy arms and legs wiggled from within the wrappings. He instinctively pressed the small bundle against his vest, momentarily forgetting the unsanitary condition of the garment.
He looked across the rows of tan and olive green vinyl chairs, laid out for the benefit of anxious friends and families who refused to leave their injured comrades. A painting of a fiery ocean sunrise hung on the wall, and a few withered palm trees stood next to the seats, someone's failed attempt at summoning the feel of a sea-side esplanade in order to hide the impersonality of such a clinical setting. Currently, the room's only occupant was the receptionist hovering over the check-in desk. A miniature cairn of polished red apples rose from a basket next to the sign-in sheet that lay on top of the counter.
Good, a slow day, thought Sakumo silently.
The petite, young civilian raised her head when she heard the doors swish as they settled back into their closed position. She recognized the jounin and lifted a pale, graceful hand to wave at him.
Vaguely, Sakumo recalled spending some time previously with the black-haired woman, but her name escaped him. Yoshiko? Kishiko? Something -ko…
"Sakumo-san! Nice to see you, again." Did he know her from one of his hospitalizations, or did he hit on her at some bar? If he could just remember where they met, maybe he could also remember her name.
She was smiling, and, damn, was she cute. Big, round, dark eyes peered out from under green-painted lids. Her white, button-down top, which was delightfully too small, constricted generous proportions that were so rare on such a slight woman. Her naturally red lips slid evenly over perfect teeth as she called his name.
Yunako? He smiled back, and, even though his mouth was concealed behind his form-fitting mask, the smile sparkled in his half-lidded eyes, an effect he had nurtured for use with the opposite sex. He raised his hand and brushed some wayward hair away from his face, only to be reminded by the gritty texture of the white strands that he had never taken his post-mission shower. Suddenly, Sakumo was conscious of how ragged his appearance was, and more importantly, how unappealing his own stench was.
Short of genjutsu, there was nothing he could do about the grime and detritus on his uniform, but at least he could fix the foul smell. After tucking baby Kakashi under one arm, the jounin ran through a quick series of hand seals for a simple, anti-tracking jutsu. The technique effectively eliminated all body odors, thus preventing a ninja from drawing enemies by scent or, even better, thus preventing a ninja from blowing his chances with a cute receptionist.
Yuriko?
Sakumo strode over to her, maintaining eye-contact, but careful not to act too eager. When he reached the station, he rested one elbow on the desk and leaned slightly towards the young lady while swinging the blanket-wrapped baby to his far side of his chest, where the infant's presence would not be too obvious. Kakashi squirmed in response to the shift in position.
The jounin looked down at the sign-in clipboard, and, after pretending to think about signing, he drew his gaze up slowly to the woman's face, letting himself linger at her exposed cleavage along the way. Two small lumps casting shadows in strategic places gave him a clear picture where her nipples were hiding and also suggested that she wasn't wearing a bra. Sakumo wondered what else she might not be wearing.
He continued to assess her assets, checking out her long, sculpted neck, her narrow chin, her gently opened mouth, and her perfectly rounded nose.
When he finally made it back up to her expectant eyes, the woman relaxed her eyelids and gave the jounin another smile—this one noticeably more sultry than the first. She seemed to enjoy the visual petting he had just given her.
"And what brings you here, Sakumo-san?" she asked in a playful lilt. "You're not hurt again, are you?"
He picked up one of the fresh apples from the basket on the desk and eyed it casually as he rotated the fruit in his palm. Yaniko? "Would I get some special treatment if I was?" he replied suggestively.
The receptionist lifted the ballpoint pen she held and bit the end between her teeth. She kept her lips loosely parted so that Sakumo could see how she ran the tip of her tongue over the plastic end of the instrument. She cocked her head to the side.
Sakumo had stopped breathing. Yariko? The name, idiot…
After sliding the pen out from its dental vice, the woman rested the tapered tip on the cushion of her lower lip, making her expression even more pouty and petulant. "I don't think you can afford our special treatment…"
Yoniko? Yochiko? "Perhaps," he paused for dramatic effect, "I can arrange for a suitable, alternate, form of payment." He paused again, leaning in closer. "Yoriko." Bingo.
She smiled again, this time bringing her lips together and trapping the end of the pen between those two yielding, luscious, pliant, supple, trembling, carmine muscles. Sakumo suddenly felt quite jealous of the banausic little writing tool. Yes, he remembered Yoriko very clearly now. He remembered her name, and he also remembered the two dates he took her on that ended wonderfully and wildly in his apartment. It appeared that she was asking for a third date.
He returned the ripe apple to the basket but continued to run his finger slowly along the top of the hump that circled the stem. "You know, today's an important holiday…" he began.
"My shift ends at two in the morning."
"Hmm. That's a little late for festivities, but, perhaps, I could walk you home after your shift? Make sure you're safe? There will be a lot of drunken trouble-makers on the streets tonight, you know."
"I still live with my sister, and I was hoping to get a chance to show off my costume," said Yoriko, raising one waxed and penciled eyebrow.
Ah right, the less attractive, less adventurous, older sister, thought Sakumo silently. "Well then, how about I walk you somewhere else? Somewhere of your choosing."
She leaned in close and spoke in a husky voice. "How about I stop by your apartment, for an after-hours Halloween celebration?"
Imagining Yoriko in various scanty, themed outfits, Sakumo was about to accept her offer in the smoothest way he knew, when Kakashi suddenly twitched in his arm and squealed loudly.
Yoriko jerked back in surprise, finally noticing the package that Sakumo had been surreptitiously holding out of view. All sexiness drained from her posture. "Is that a baby?" she asked.
"Um…yeah." There was no point in denying it. The baby squeal was unmistakable. The mood was ruined.
"Why on earth do you have a baby?"
"It's, um, for a mission." He lied.
She looked at him skeptically. "What kind of mission?
"A top-secret mission." Kakashi squealed again, this time more insistently. "That…requires a baby," added Sakumo hastily, as he watched his prospects for evening companionship rapidly deflate before his eyes.
Doubt still clouded Yoriko's eyes.
"That's why I'm here," explained the jounin. "I need to see Tsunade. About the mission. And about the baby. You know. Ninja stuff." He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt.
"Well, Tsunade-san is currently in a consultation with Dr. Yakushi, but—"
Kakashi broke into a full-fledged baby wail which reverberated though the Waiting Room at an unbelievable volume for such a small pair of lungs. Sakumo knew babies cried, but he wasn't aware of how they could hit that impossible-to-ignore perfect combination of pitch and tone that pierces mercilessly into an adult's brain. Even more unfamiliar were the vagaries of baby behavior, including the fact that they could go from sleep to scream in split-seconds.
The dark-eyed receptionist glanced at the swaddled baby once more. "Is it ok?" She sounded concerned.
"Yeah, he's fine," shouted Sakumo above the din while he bounced the infant in his arms to comfort him.
"Maybe I should look at it—"
"No!" The jounin took a step away from the woman, making sure the baby was out of reach and out of view. Yoriko was taken aback by his abrupt defensiveness. "I mean," he backpedaled, "it's not allowed. Top-secret. Remember?" If Yoriko saw the resemblance of baby to daddy, his sovereign chance of hooking up with her that night would go from poor to non-existent.
"Yeah, ok." Now, the petite woman looked disoriented, which was fine by Sakumo. That meant she was buying the 'top-secret mission' excuse. "Why don't you, uh, go wait in Exam Room 2? I'll tell Tsunade-san you're here."
That sounded like a superb idea to the White Fang. He could get some privacy and take a minute to figure out what was wrong with Kakashi. Then, he could return to the Waiting Room and remind Yoriko that he was still dateless for the night. All he needed to do was suggest she come over. Then, he would have no need of rhabdomancy or horoscopes to foretell his future. That girl was a sure thing.