(Not So) Short Note: Happy October! I regret to inform you that it took a prompt to write this installment. The prompt was: It was the thought that counted.

In other (very exciting news) this series has nearly fifty reviews, nearly twenty favorites, and forty follows to date. You all have no idea how much this means to me. This installment is for all of you. Thank you so much.

Also, thank you to Habit, who followed this story about a week ago. If you see this, I want you to know you actually made my entire week. It meant so much to be to see that one of my favorite authors, who I have looked up to for quite some time, followed one of my stories. Words cannot express. (I fangirled, I admit it.)

Important: I've also realized that probably the best way to make sure this series continues is the use of a poll. So, you'll find a poll at the end of this drabble. You can choose from the list of options or submit your own for what you want to see in the next installment. If I really like two of the choices and can't decide, I'll just do two! So please, vote away!

Stranger Than Fiction

By Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Drabble # 10

There were many times in his life that Gaara had doors slammed in his face. Actually, he had had doors slammed on him, glasses hurled at him, bats swung at him, and, of course, fists thrown at him. So, when she slammed the door in his face, he was hardly shaken up. He blinked apathetically, before turning on his heel and stalking down the hallway of her apartment building, intent on getting a late night drink elsewhere.

The following day, however, when he had sent her a text message requesting her presence at the club that night because he had gotten stuck working and was awfully and utterly bored and had received no answer in any form, spending the night by himself as a result, he was slightly ticked. Perhaps not irritated to an extent, but certainly curious at her dismissal of him.

Gaara decided to wait a few days before attempting communication again. He met the same results. Now irritated, he shrugged it off and decided to cease his attempts. There was obviously some reason behind her staunch avoidance of him, but he was honestly ignorant of it. Perhaps she was having a stressful time at work. Or maybe it was that frightful womanly time of month. The possibility of her taking either of these out on him further fueled his irritation, but having a pool of logical explanations helped to some extent.

About a week later, it was surprisingly on her account that he had contact with her. Admittedly, it was unplanned when they had practically collided with one another at the small café she had taken him to that one day months ago after she had gotten off of work. Despite Gaara's knowledge of her frequenting of it, he had not at all planned to run into her there before he went to work. It was simply a convenient place to stock up on caffeine after another sleepless night and before another long one.

He told her as much in response to her immediate jump to conclusions, "I ignored you so you decided to stalk me, Gaara?!"

Sakura's eye twitched at his bland response explaining his innocent intentions for being in the coffee shop. "Sure, sure," she huffed, side stepping him to continue her journey to the door.

He grabbed her arm, demanding with narrowed eyes, "Why have you been ignoring me?"

She recognized the dangerous warning tone in his voice, but her wrath from nearly two weeks ago still bubbled violently within her, fueling her courage, "Don't play dumb, Gaara, you know what you did!"

Scowling, he yanked her closer, earning them both the concerned stares of a few of the patrons. He wearily regarded them before directing his attention back to the pinched expression of the woman staring up at him. "I do not."

Sakura sensed the possibility of this discussion taking a rather explosive turn, as conversations of this kind between them were prone to do, "This is not the place for this, but you do know the reason I'm mad at you. Think about it."

With that, she tugged her arm free of his grip, aware that the redhead could do nothing to stop her from doing so with all of the eyes on them, and stomped out of the coffee shop.

Gaara exhaled sharply, akin to an angry sigh, before turning to the counter, intent on getting double the caffeine he had originally intended. Maybe he could drown his sudden overwhelming craving for nicotine in espresso. But damn, did that woman make him need a cigarette.

After another long night spent alone working at the club, Gaara thought he had pinpointed the cause of the pink haired woman's wrath. When his shift finally ended, he made quick work of closing up before shrugging on his worn, chain ornamented leather jacket before stepping into the pre-summer night air.

The season had just begun its mutating, morphing from a mild, breezy spring into heightened temperatures with stronger sun during the day and humid air during the night. As he walked the distance from the club to Sakura's apartment, he almost regretted his choice of fitting distressed cargo pants and the grey wife beater he wore under his shredded Sabaku work shirt.

When he finally arrived at Sakura's door, at some outrageous hour in the morning, he could feel the light layer of sweat coating the back of his neck. Wasting no time with knocking, he easily picked the lock and slipped into the darkness of her home. The TV was still on, illuminating the living room with shadows and small voices from whatever shows Sakura had fallen asleep watching. He crept over to the couch where she was sprawled out, fast asleep.

Gaara frowned at her state of dress – or lack thereof, a she sported a pair of boxers that he sincerely hoped were his and a thin tank top – before turning and cracking open the window, letting in some breezy air. She shifted as it ghosted across her skin, but he quickly discarded his jacket and laid it across her, ceasing her movement as she settled peacefully. Pulling off his shirt, he wrapped her naked legs in it before turning the small loveseat next to the couch, clad now in just his pants and wife-beater. Scowling, he shooed the slumbering feline occupying it off, earning himself a kitty glare accompanied by a disgruntled hiss from the spoiled feline. Ignoring the ire from the tiny animal, Gaara fell into the now vacant seat.

Deciding it was a particularly bad idea to wake her from her slumber to discuss and promptly end the anger she harbored for him, the red head dropped his feet onto her coffee table and slouched in the chair, intent on resting until she woke up.

She awoke to the sound of birds chirping, which was odd, because she knew she had purposely left the windows closed to avoid the irritating morning sound. Blinking, Sakura stretched out her now sore back, from sleeping on the couch, as awareness crept over her and sleepiness stubbornly dragged its feet in its departure.

Glancing down at her body, her brow cocked at the worn leather jacket and shredded shirt haphazardly wrapped around her. Setting them aside and sitting up, she was moderately surprised to see the slumbering form of Gaara in a rather uncomfortable looking position sprawled across her love seat.

She stood up, quickly folding the man's shirt and jacket and placing them back on the couch, before tip-toeing into the kitchen. Sakura put some coffee on and began preparing a small breakfast for the two of them. As angry as she was with him, she refused to let the man go hungry in her presence. Who knows when the last time he deigned to nourish himself was without her there to goad him into it, anyway?

He awoke to the smell of coffee permeating the air and wafting lazily into his nose like a wake-up call. His eyes flew open, immediately falling onto the couch, expecting the form of a sleeping woman to still be there. When he found the spot vacant, he was on his feet and half way into the kitchen before he could even check the time.

Sakura stood in front of the stove, back facing him, flipping some bacon in a pan and cracking some eggs into a bowl. A whole tomato and a few other fruits sat on the cutting board next to her. When she heard him open the cabinet where she kept her mugs, she greeted, "I see you're awake."

Gaara didn't offer a response, instead just silently turned the coffee machine off and poured himself a generous serving of scalding hot black coffee. She watched him as he lifted it to his lips from over her shoulder. "Did you need something last night?" Sakura asked, returning defiantly to the meal she was preparing and pouring the eggs into the pan.

"Yes," he grunted shortly, staring at the back of her mussed pink head.

She waited a moment before prompting, "Well…?"

"I know why you're angry at me."

The pink haired woman scoffed before she picked up a strawberry and popped it into her mouth, "Took you long enough."

"I do not understand why my joining you in the shower is such an ordeal."

Sakura nearly choked.

She whirled on him, the food on the stove momentarily forgotten. Swallowing roughly, she squeaked, "What?!"

His blank stare was unwavering.

"That's what you think this is about?"

He blinked, nodding shortly, suddenly uncertain.

"Oh, Gaara," she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the stove. Removing the pan from the heat, she shoveled the contents onto two plates. She shook her head with a sigh, "You're not even close."

Sakura had just begun slicing up the fruit when she sensed his presence much closer to her back, his grumbling, grating voice much closer than it had been, "Then what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Frowning at the crude way in which he asked the question, she divided the fruits onto both of their plates before turning to face him, "You idiot, I'm not angry about that. I'm angry about what you did to Itachi!"

He blinked, back straightening in surprise. Sighing at his taken aback expression, Sakura pressed on, "Oh, come on Gaara, how did you expect me to react? You pulled a knife on him, for Kami's sake!"

The redhead just cocked his head to the side, bewildered, "He touched you," he said simply.

Her pale face contorted in some odd expression he couldn't quite understand, "He was helping me out of the car! Like a gentleman. That does not give you the right to pull a weapon out of your pocket!"

His jade gaze was unwavering as he stared her down.

"Yes, it does."

Exasperated, Sakura threw her hands into the air. "You are insufferable, do you know that? Totally unreasonable. And here I expected that you came last night to apologize!" She exclaimed with a laugh, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

"I had, just not for that."

Frowning, she glared up at him, "Are you going to apologize to Itachi?"

"Is he going to touch you again?"

A frustrated sound escaped her throat and she had a strong urge to reach up and yank her hair out. Or maybe his. "Probably!"

"Then I will not apologize to him," Gaara reasoned simply, staring down at her with eyes that told her there was no room for further argument. She sighed.

A moment of silence passed.

"Do you forgive me yet?"

Sighing, Sakura deflated, "You didn't even know what you were apologizing for."

Gaara just shrugged, pushing against her face with his cheek as he pressed his forehead against the warm skin of her neck.

Despite his reasons being dementedly wrong, Sakura appreciated the sentiment behind the almost apologetic action. It was the thought that counted, after all.

What do you want to see next installment? Pick one of the prompts below or submit your own.

Poll:

1: A real scene of jealous Gaara?

2: Jealous Sakura?

Or, a prompt true to form:

3: And in that moment, Gaara regretted ever agreeing to climb into this monkey suit. If only he could have resisted the wiles of the woman that beamed up at him as she adjusted the tie constricting his wind pipe.

4: Submit your own?

Thank you! See you next time.