"Would you sit still?" Sakura grumbled, trying to cut Itachi's hair was neatly as possible. But the stubborn Uchiha just wouldn't stop moving, and it was driving them both crazy.

"If you weren't trying to slice off my ears, I wouldn't be so uneasy," Itachi bit back. He'd known her a week now, and she was just getting to cutting his hair between her shifts at the hospital and her massage therapy job later that day. She had an hour to work with, and Itachi wasn't making it easy. At all. The fact that they had had to wait a week longer than anticipated was bad enough; Sasuke had indeed, as predicted, gotten tetanus, but not as badly as he would have thanks to Sakura dragging his ass into the clinic and making him feel the wrath of her boss. Tsunade had been anything but nice to him, and Sasuke came out of the clinic an hour later with his ears ringing from her yells, an arm bruised from her slap when he just kept hning, and a very sore arm from a shot that should have been filed as an assault. Said sick Uchiha was sitting on the bed of Sakura's room, where the three were currently were, waiting for it to be done so Sakura could trim his own hair.

Sasuke sighed silently, looking at his brother and Sakura as they bickered just like he and Sakura did when they had first met each other. Usually, if he knew his brother at all, Itachi would have taken the scissors she was using and stabbed her in the neck long ago. But Itachi, Sasuke guessed, was in a lose-lose scenario. Kill the girl but walk around with half your hair cut off, or put up with the hair cutting but listen to Sakura bitch at him the entire time. Sasuke was entertained by both scenarios, as he should have been. But Sasuke knew that neither he or Itachi could really live with out Sakura. She cooked for the both of them every night or brought take out. She did most of the laundry [all of it except their underwear and Sasuke's basketball clothes, since she'd deemed them 'so smelly it made her want to hurl' in their junior year of high school'] and she basically tended every need they had once she had the time to.

"STOP. MOVING." Sakura ordered, using her skinny arms to shove Itachi back into his seat by his shoulders. It barely worked, considering how strong he was when compared to her. Her hair was in a messy bun and she was dressed for her night work: a mid thigh length black silk Chinese dress with slits up to her high thighs, gold trim and crimson flowers as the pattern. She paired it with black flats and two gold bracelets that hung on her right wrist. Sasuke's best friend, Naruto, often commented on how hot she looked when she came back from her night work. His comments also often earned him a beating from said temperamental masseuse.

"There. I'm done," Sakura sighed, anger still flashing in her eyes. She'd hacked most of Itachi's gorgeous black hair away, leaving it long enough to get in his eyes in front but keeping it a bit shorter and somewhat layered everywhere else. She ruffled his head and he glared up at her menacingly, wishing so desperately that he could kill her. She got this message and smirked.

"I cook and clean for you, and I might have landed you a job at one of my favorite diners. I called in a favor. Kill me now and you're possible future and life as we speak is gone," she said, as cocky and arrogant as Sasuke when he'd beaten some one at Mortal Combat on his PS3. Itachi glared at her harder before getting up rigidly, obviously pissed, and laid down on her bed as Sasuke sat down in the chair now and Sakura got to work on his unruly hair.

Itachi was seething. How could be bossed around by such a weak, petite girl? It was not because she was stronger than him physically. She was not smarter than him, at least not in things not related to haircuts or general health. She was demanding, Itachi huffed irritated at the thought, but deep down he knew she had every right to be. She waited on his brother and now himself hand and foot, buying clothes because Itachi didn't have money and getting him a job and cutting his hair and cooking his meals and doing his laundry. She vacuumed their house and dusted and cleaned. She even did the dishes by hand because the dishwasher was broken without any help what-so-ever. She didn't often complain, and when her anger did flare, she did have every reason to be that way, at leas after putting up with his brother for so many years. Having an almost exact copy of him probably wasn't helping her stress levels, Itachi mused.

"Ow!" Sasuke hissed, glaring up at her. Sakura glared back.

"Don't' be such a baby. Today a twelve-year-old kid came into the hospital with a bullet in his leg because his dad shot him and he didn't make a peep when I yanked it out and put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. He wasn't even crying."

"Liar," Sasuke mumbled. Sakura smacked him on the head with her hand and continued. Sasuke sighed agitatedly. It took a few more minutes before she finally finished.

"There, you wuss. All better," Sakura said proudly, admiring her work for a second [hey, she was allowed to drool over cute boys who just happened to be her neighbors!] before she got the vacuum and cleaned up the messed of hair that had collected on her carpet. Sasuke walked out of the room to grab a V8 from her fridge, feeling a suddenly ravenous need for tomato juice, leaving Sakura and Itachi alone.

Itachi noticed that the room suddenly seemed a bit smaller, possibly suffocating. Sakura was oblivious, or acted like it, anyway, and continued to put the stuff away. Itachi stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to get his gut [which had suddenly started to feel like it housed to very violent, hungry tigers] to settle down. It barely worked. The air just got so... hot, all of the sudden. It was weird. Itachi looked at Sakura, frustration rising. He'd only known her a week and yet she was already driving him insane. He was stuck in the house most of the day with nothing to do but wait for her to get home and tell him what to do. It was pathetic. What was more pathetic still was the fact that he found himself actually looking forward to seeing her between her jobs.

Especially if she was wearing that Chinese dress, like she was right now.

Fuck, Itachi thought. Double fuck, as Sakura bent down to get the scissors she had dropped. Thighs were exposed that hadn't before. He swallowed and looked away, pretending to be asleep. It was fucking ridiculous. He'd barely known her before last week. Then again, he hadn't had sex for two weeks...

The thought made him crash back to reality, hard. There was no way he was thinking of Sakura like that. No fucking way. She was just the only girl he had really seen and/or talked to for two weeks. That was it. Once he started his job and saw loads of other girls, he'd have no problem. He reassured himself with these thoughts and daydreams of ridiculously hot girls.

Yep. That was it, Itachi reassured himself, it was just with drawl. He was only mildly attracted to Sakura because he was going into with drawl. And after all, it was such a minor attraction.

At least he told himself that, anyway.