Again, thank you so much to everyone who's been kind enough to review. :) Continuing my little soundtrack kick, for anybody who's interested, the official ItaSaku theme for this story is "I'm Yours", by Jason Mraz. It's such a sweet song, and the first time I heard it, I was just like, OMG, Itachi and Sakura. It works perfectly for the whole mint-picking deal last chapter, and their interactions in general. Speaking of the mint-picking – that scene was taken and slightly modified from my other ItaSaku fic, Disturbia. Another scene, coming this chapter, is also going to be taken and modified from said fic, so yeah. Public service announcement over; let the story commence.

-

"Okay, un," Deidara picks up the steak knife almost delicately, and spins it through his fingers, before taking one step toward Itachi. "I promise this won't hurt."

"Is it even possible to stab someone in the eyes gently?" Kisame asks, addressing the highly relevant query to the general populace.

Tobi shrugs. "I didn't think so, but if anybody could do it, it is the esteemed Deidara-senpai!"

"Nobody," Itachi says tonelessly, "is going to stab anybody in the eyes." He removes the Dior sunglasses – always a gesture indicating the utmost seriousness – and fixes a glare on the advancing artist. "Come any closer and I will introduce your internal organs to the floor."

"You better not," Hidan growls ominously. "It took fucking ages to clean up all of Tobi's crap from his little pansy-ass arts and crafts project."

Deidara drops the steak knife back on the kitchen table, alarmed. "Jeez, Uchiha, you just can't take a joke, un."

"It was in very poor taste," sniffs Itachi.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to make that joke in the first place if you could have just gotten the kunoichi to fall in love with you already, un!" Deidara retorts indignantly. "It's been a week of our best efforts and no results, un!"

"Well," Kisame points out, as usual acting as the sole voice of reason. "She does call him Itachi sometimes, which is an improvement over Uchiha, and a definite improvement over just looking at him with a deep shudder of hatred."

"Oh, fuck me," Deidara grouses, flopping onto the table.

Itachi takes a distinctly irritable sip of his Vitamin Water. "I would prefer to refrain from such an odious act. Also, it is imperative that we keep realistic expectations regarding this, ah – twisted little endeavor of yours. It is sheer foolishness to assume that Sakura would 'fall in love' with me within a week and a half of captivity—"

"Yeah, she'd have to be completely fucking insane," Hidan replies, nodding his agreement.

Tobi flops back on his beanbag, sighing. "I just wish you had more time to win Sakura-san's heart, Itachi-san."

"Which is where the whole stabbing him in the eyes thing comes into play, un," Deidara points out helpfully. "According to little red-eye over there, there's just one more healing session before his eyes are fixed, and we can't honorably keep her after that, un."

"The same principle would apply if I stabbed you four hundred and thirty-seven times with a blunt butter knife," Itachi deadpans. "Her honor as a medic would obligate her to stay and tend to you."

He closes his eyes for a moment; his vision and sensitivity to light have been greatly improved by her healing, but there are still a good deal of adjustments to go. When he opens his eyes again, he can see his teammates staring at him with various measures of horror written on their faces. "Ooh, Itachi-san made a joke!" Tobi squeals, quite taken with the sheer novelty of such an occurrence.

Itachi flinches. "Snide witticism."

"How many has that been in the past week, un?" Deidara asks, wide-eyed.

Kisame thinks momentarily. "Five."

"That's it, little red-eye," Hidan pronounces, pointing at Itachi. "The irate kunoichi is a fucking negative influence on you."

"I am aware," Itachi drawls, bored. "As a matter of fact, I am currently at high risk of dying my hair bright pink and turning myself in to Konoha while begging for redemption and offering them my unwavering loyalty, in return for the privilege of nursing grievously injured persons back to health with my tender and loving care."

Silence greets this extraordinary proclamation.

"Really?" Tobi asks, shocked.

"…No."

"Don't do that ever again," Kisame shudders. "It's just not right."

"Enough with the snide witticisms, already, un!" Deidara exclaims, waving his hands in a distressed fashion. "We need to do some hardcore planning here!" There is a disturbingly analytical look in the sole blue eye not curtained by the formidable mass of hair. "Uchiha, does Sakura have any idea that you like her, un?"

"No," Itachi replies, sounding incongruously grateful for this small fact.

Deidara buries his head in his hands. "Not in the least, un? Not even a sneaking suspicion?"

"Does the naturally mysterious and inscrutable aspect of my personality mean nothing to you?"

"Come on," Kisame clarifies helpfully, seeing that Deidara is in danger of knocking his head against the table until unconsciousness claims him. "This is Uchiha Itachi we're talking about. Everyone thought he was asexual up until now. Even us. Of course a little Leaf kunoichi wouldn't know if he had any interest in her."

"That one has fucking evil powers, though," Hidan counters darkly. "I wouldn't put anything past her."

Deidara straightens, gazing determinedly at Itachi. "Your last healing is in an hour, un, and this evening, we have to deposit her back in her happy little village. If there's a good time to shock us all into dying of premature heart attacks by unleashing some of your famous but previously-stifled Uchiha charm, now would be it, un."

Itachi recoils, as if Deidara's statement had been the basest of insults. "I am in possession of no such…charm."

"Well, that puts you in a difficult position, un," Deidara says thoughtfully. "As you have to give her subtle clues that you may be interested in her during your upcoming healing session – but if you go about it in your customarily socially retarded way, un, you may just screw everything up."

"Aww, no, Deidara-senpai," Tobi protests. "Itachi-san could never screw things up!"

He throws Itachi a look of such unadulterated adoration that the Uchiha nearly wilts.

"I will try my level best to refrain from screwing everything up, as you so eruditely put it," Itachi says dryly. "Now, I intend to meditate."

"Pray for strength," Hidan advises. "You're definitely going to need it."

"And don't come back down until you've got the girl, un!" Deidara calls after him.

-

Itachi has been pacing in front of Sakura's room for three and a half minutes, and counting – with absolutely no immediate intention of entering. Despite the carefully schooled expression of calmness on his face, he has the well-intentioned but slightly frightening courtship advice of three other homicidal men – and Tobi – occupying his mind, and that is hardly any help to his already strained nerves.

To his eternal shame, he nearly jumps, the dastardly machinations of his mind interrupted rudely by the sound of Sakura flinging the door open. Her hair is standing on end, as if she had run her fingers through it several times. "What?"

Itachi almost flinches; he has faced several million things more dangerous than an irate kunoichi, of course, but he also knows that none of the other several million dangerous things have ever been known to castrate a man with a pen. "…How did you—"

"I can hear your footsteps," she interrupts, crossing her arms. "They've been echoing around my room for the past three minutes and forty-five seconds."

There are a few moments where they both take the measure of one another, before Sakura steps back from the doorway. "If you wanted to hang out," – she purposely borrows the most notoriously childish and innocent of Tobi's trademark terms, knowing the effect it will have on him – "or something, you could have just knocked and asked politely."

This time, Itachi cannot restrain his shudder at the mere implication that he could ever be caught doing something so juvenile. "I wish to do no such thing. If I wanted to hang in any way, I would strangle myself with Leader-sama's best dress ties."

Sakura gives him a mischievous smile. "Oh, really? Then why are you still here?"

Itachi's left eye twitches slightly. "I – wished to escape Tobi's attempt at arts and crafts time."

"Ha!" Sakura crows triumphantly; somewhat forgetting exactly who she's dealing with, she gives the rather shell-shocked Itachi a punch on the shoulder. "Lies, Uchiha! Lies! Tobi's arts and crafts time was three hours ago!"

His burgeoning – feelings – for this troublesome young woman aside, Itachi inches away, somewhat fearing for her sanity, and for the integrity of secret Akatsuki rituals. "How did you know that?"

Sakura snorts, walking back into he room. "I could hear Hidan cursing over being the one who had to pick up all the Play-Doh."

"…Ah."

"I'm glad that I'm going to be out of here by midnight," Sakura confesses to him, in a rare candid moment. She taps the side of her head. "I think the insanity around here may be catching."

Upon the informal invitation, Itachi enters the room cautiously and takes a seat upon the rickety wooden rocking chair. "Let me remind you that you may only leave the premises after fulfilling the terms of our agreement."

Her smile fades a little, and Sakura has to remind herself that she is, after all, lucky to be leaving here with her life, and a certain pair of genuine Dior sunglasses. She lowers herself onto the chilly wooden floors, crossing her legs and drawing a small amount of chakra to her open palms. "Come here, Uchiha. We're going to finish this."

Itachi complies, by now having realized that argument would be futile, but closing his eyes in her presence is something that he is still uncomfortable doing. He cannot shake the suspicion that, if it were at all possible, she would take some of Deidara's best Magic Markers (which he knows she has stashed somewhere in here) and scrawl demeaning phrases all over his face while he is none the wiser.

His nose twitches in displeasure at the very thought, and Sakura taps him firmly on it with her free hand. "Stay still; the nerves in the back are very delicate, and if one little wire gets crossed, you could be seeing in orange light for the rest of your life."

The pressure of her chakra against his optical nerves increases – it is uncomfortable, in a strange way that he cannot quite place, and Itachi shivers.

For a moment, Sakura's chakra ebbs. "Are you – ticklish, Uchiha?" she asks incredulously.

"Do not be ridiculous, Sakura. It is nothing of the sort."

He curses his inability to open his eyes and fix a glare on the kunoichi, but agreeably enough, she settles back into her normal routine; until, quite out of nowhere, there is another jolt of the disagreeable sensation. Much to his discomfiture, Itachi flinches outright, and his pride – which has already taken a considerable battering in the past week – sustains another blow when Sakura laughs out loud. "You are ticklish!"

Itachi cannot see, but he still has the rest of his senses intact. Without a great deal of thought, he reaches out, curling his fingers around her unusually delicate throat. "Kunoichi, if I open my eyes to discover that I may only see the world through a zesty citrus spectrum, there will be hell to pay," he says, in his most silkily dangerous tone.

This time, Sakura keeps her laughter a great deal more restrained, although he can still hear the barely-contained humor bubbling beneath her reply. "I apologize. Don't worry, though, you won't be seeing orange. Pink, perhaps? In any case, Itachi, please remove your grip from my ankle. I find that it's bordering on sexual harassment."

Itachi can say nothing to this, but he does remove his grip from her ankle.

"Ooh, burn," Sakura mutters under her breath.

"…Pardon?"

"Nothing!"

-

Itachi spends the entirety of the next half hour frantically trying to determine the least asinine of the "subtle" ways Deidara had informed him would be appropriate to hint at his 'affection' for Sakura.

"So," he deadpans, privately unable to believe that he has just started a sentence with the usage of a conjunction. He must be far gone indeed. "What awaits you upon your return to your village?"

His eyes are still closed, but he has the satisfaction of hearing her small, hurriedly stifled, choke of surprise, before she recovers quickly and replies. "A return to my customary routine of duty, honor, saving the lives of my comrades, attempting to incarcerate your comrades so that they can cease and desist their attempts upon my best friend's life, and, oh – looking fabulous in my new Dior sunglasses, of course."

"Lovely," Itachi says sardonically.

"And you?" she inquires sweetly, and he feels a slight twinge as she mends one of the last frayed nerves.

"A return to my customary routine of performing every action that is the very antithesis of your stated purpose in life," Itachi replies, after a moment's thought. "Along with avoiding incarceration by the likes of your kind so that I may continue wreaking havoc around the world, and, oh – purchasing new Versace sunglasses, of course."

He is rewarded by the small gulp of laughter that she chokes back. "Oh, an upgrade, I see. You're an awfully evil person and a scourge upon humanity itself, you know," Sakura informs him matter-of-factly, and he can hear the small grain of truth within the carefully lighthearted tone of her next sentence. "I hope you know that I'm going to hate you with a dedicated, passionate devotion for the rest of my life, for making me compromise my honor in this fashion."

Itachi smirks a little. "I am aware. As a matter of fact, I relish it."

After making this statement, Itachi feels the gently probing sensation of her chakra slowly withdraw from his eyes. "Open up," she instructs, "and tell me how it feels."

To his relief, his newly restored vision does not involve him seeing everything in various tones of orange. It is, as a matter of fact, nothing less than perfect. "…Satisfactory," he says slowly.

In the dim evening light, her green eyes catch the few flecks of golden candlelight, turning them into molten emerald, and Itachi is surprised to realize that, for the past few years of his visual deterioration, all colors that he has seen have been filtered and muted through shades of gray. Now, though, Sakura is all exaggeratedly bright pink and green and red, so bright and cheerful that it should, actually, make him nauseous.

"So, that translates to excellent in Uchiha-speak, I suppose," she smirks, leaning back against the bed, justified in her pride.

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "Do you really have enough experience with my prose to translate it, if you will, into your customarily exuberant turns of speech?"

He is surprised to see a slight shadow flicker across her eyes, before it is gone, as quickly as if it had never been there. She stands, stretches luxuriously, and pokes him in the clavicle, which has become a sort of habit with her. "I was – acquainted – with your younger brother once," she says offhandedly, before flashing him a rather distracting smile. "And, in case it's escaped you, you're positively talkative in my presence. Pity, another couple more sessions, and I bet I would have had you spilling your deepest, darkest secrets."

This hits too close to home for Itachi's comfort, and he quickly busies himself with surveying every trivial little detail of the room. He is suddenly conscious of the fact that this is what Kisame would, tactfully, call the opportune moment to strike, but for once, his predator's instinct seems to have thoroughly abandoned him.

To his surprise, Sakura stops dead all of a sudden, staring at him as if transfixed. "Oh, my Buddha," she gasps – a habit that she has picked up from Kisame. "I can't believe I didn't figure it out earlier."

Itachi steps back, despite himself, his eyes narrowing warily as if readying for battle. "Of what do you speak?"

"Your little secret, Uchiha," Sakura replies, completely sure of herself.

"I have no secrets," Itachi says inconsequentially, hoping that she will forget that his entire life is, in fact, based strongly upon secrets and mystery.

"You're a nail polish sniffer, aren't you?"

This is hardly what he had been expecting her to say, and he blinks. "What?"

"You heard me." Sakura folds her arms and studies him shrewdly. "It explains the split personalities and stuff."

Even in the face of this ridiculous accusation, Itachi feels as if he could almost – laugh, which is a downright shocking prospect indeed. "Let me assure you, Sakura," he says smoothly, recovering his usual composure. "I am not a…nail polish sniffer."

The kunoichi deflates visibly; certain that she had, at last, found the solution to the mysterious enigma that was Uchiha Itachi. "Fine," she nearly pouts, offering him her arm. "Let's go downstairs – I want to bid your…friends…farewell."

"They are not my friends," Itachi counters, staring at the offered body part in a rather puzzled manner, before he awkwardly manages to link it through his, so that her palm rests lightly on the top of his arm. "They are my allies toward achieving a shared goal."

"Sure," Sakura says, rolling her eyes. "And that goal would be?"

"World domination," Itachi replies calmly – the truth, yes, even though the Akatsuki's current aim seems to be primarily aiding him in performing various socially awkward courtship methods to their fullest capacity. However, that just does not have the same dramatic flair to it. On the first step of the staircase, he remembers Deidara's ultimatum of not coming downstairs until he had got the girl, so to speak. Technically, as their arms are somewhat entwined, he has access to an aspect of her person, therefore, logically, he is fulfilling the artist's ludicrous terms.

"How awfully predictable," Sakura sighs. "I had expected better, Uchiha."

Itachi allows himself the luxury of a small, ironic smirk. "If I told you the truth, you would hardly believe me."

She offers him a flinty smile. "Try me."

Thankfully, he is spared the necessity of answering by the fact that he suddenly finds the two of them blockaded by Kisame, Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi, who are waiting at the bottom of the staircase. All of them have resorted to the basest of intimidation tactics and are trying their best to look as coolly menacing and unconcerned as possible – Kisame leans on the unsheathed Samehada, inspecting his nails, which are filed to razor-sharp points, Deidara is lounging against a wall, tossing a clay bomb from hand to hand casually, and Hidan has reduced himself to a menacing shadow in the corner. Tobi, meanwhile, flits back and forth, doing his best vampire impersonation, while humming a chilling piano score.

Sakura raises an eyebrow fractionally. "Impressive. It almost makes me regain some of my respect for you guys."

"Ooh, yay, we're cool again!" Tobi squeals.

"I said almost," Sakura retorts, although her words are softened by a smile upon seeing the swirly-masked innocent.

Deidara's sharp eyes do not miss the way Sakura's arm slides out from Itachi's light hold as she obliges to return Tobi's hug; his eyes widen, and one of the mouths on his hands chokes and gags on its clay. Itachi arches an eyebrow in warning, and the blonde missing-nin somehow manages to refrain from screaming an inquiry at the top of his lungs. Instead, he settles for jerking his head erratically to the left and right, and then up and down.

"Is he having a seizure or something?" Sakura whispers.

Itachi shakes his head minutely. "No. He is not."

Deidara collapses onto the table with a moan of despair.

Hidan mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, "Fucking hopeless."

Sakura hears nothing except the obscenity; she turns on Hidan sharply. "Excuse you?"

Hidan meets her glare. "What, kunoichi? Want to go?"

Kisame laughs nervously, before setting aside Samehada in order to place himself between them. "If looks could kill," he chides. "If everyone only did breathing exercises—"

Personal differences aside, everybody in the immediate vicinity takes a few moments to roll their eyes.

"Fine," Sakura is the first to concede, graciously, while ducking out of Kisame's protective hold.

Hidan nods his grudging agreement; he steps forward, spits in his palm, and holds the sopping palm out to the kunoichi. "Peace, then, heathen – for now."

To everybody's horror, Sakura spits in her palm as well, and exchanges a hearty handshake with the Akatsuki's resident zealot. She smiles at him sweetly. "Peace."

"You're not as much of a jackass as the rest of your people," Hidan acknowledges as he finally pulls away. "You have a talent – I swear, the rest of the Konoha heathens I've met can't cuss out a five-year-old to save their lives. Pity you're using your skills for the wrong side."

"It's all objective," Sakura protests.

"Whatever, kunoichi," Hidan rolls his eyes; before retreating to his lair, he turns around one last time and winks at her. "Oh, and remember to give my regards to your mom."

Sakura cheerfully gives him the finger.

Kisame shakes his head in disbelief.

At this point, Tobi decides that the levels of hardcore badass-ness in the Akatsuki Headquarters have reached too high of a point for his personal comfort; he promptly bursts out into tears and hugs Sakura again. "Sakura-san!" he wails, clutching the quite squished-looking kunoichi in his arms. "Please come back and visit a lot!"

"I don't know, Tobi—" Sakura chokes.

Tobi hugs her tighter and blubbers something about her being his "bestest friend" and "big sister". While Itachi fights the urge to retch, Sakura melts under the face of such skillful persuasion, and assures him that she will, indeed, visit for once-monthly Monopoly Game Nights.

"Oh, go away, un," Deidara says disgustedly. "You're all…snotty and teary and crap."

"Don't be mean to him!" Sakura defends, but Tobi dutifully gives her one last hug, professions of eternal best friendship, and toddles off to the bathroom, sniffling sadly.

Sakura waves after him, before turning to the second remaining Akatsuki member. Deidara raises an eyebrow at her. "No need to fall to your knees with gratitude at the courtesy and promptness and general stylishness of my constant correspondence, un."

Sakura cannot help but grin at him. "You have my thanks, Official Head Of The Official Department Of Letters To Be Written To Prisoners."

They bump fists, and Deidara gets up to go, looking quite calm and unaffected. "Pardon me for not shedding tears, un," he says mischievously. "But I have a feeling that we'll be seeing more of each other in the future. Call it an artistic instinct, un."

Behind Sakura's back, Itachi glares a warning, and subtly unearths a steak knife from the kitchen drawer. Deidara pales.

Quite unaware of the blatant intimidation tactics going on behind her, Sakura waves a few fingers at Deidara. "Very well, then. And I'll remember to bring you a few boxes of blonde hair dye when that does happen – it must be hard to maintain fake hair color as a wanted criminal, you know?"

Deidara fairly squeaks in indignation and runs off down the hallway.

Now, Sakura is alone in the kitchen with Kisame and Itachi. The shark-man looks back and forth between the innocent kunoichi and his panicked-looking partner (but then again, for Itachi, panicked translates to a periodic twitching of his right eye), laughs to himself, and edges toward the door. "Well, Sakura-san, you seem to be a wonderful person and I'm thoroughly overjoyed that I've come to know you in the past week or so, and I think it would be highly advisable if you remember and continue our yoga routines—"

As fast as lightning, Itachi's hand snaps out, and he grabs his retreating partner by the arm. Despite the thinness of his fingers, his grip is strong, and Kisame flinches. "Why, Kisame, where are you going?" he asks rhetorically.

Kisame tries to pull away, pasting an innocuous smile on his face; Sakura looks on, curiously. "Why, Itachi, ANBU Romance is on at this time slot—"

Itachi's grip tightens. "Why, Kisame," he grits out, "were you aware that there are reruns tomorrow at four in the afternoon?"

He is caught, well and truly, and Kisame sighs. "Why, no, Itachi, I was not."

"Very well," Itachi replies, satisfied, and releases him. "You may accompany us to Konoha."

"Oh, fish sticks and endless joy," Kisame mutters under his breath. He sticks his hand in one of the inner pockets of his cloak, and withdraws a scarf, emblazoned with two cheerful clownfish, a regal blue tang, a little sea turtle, and a widely grinning shark.

He tosses said scarf at Sakura, who catches it easily. "Eh, Kisame, I really appreciate this gesture of friendship, but I think that you'd like a Finding Nemo scarf better than I would—"

Itachi sighs. "Kisame, I gifted you with a Lion King scarf last Christmas. I was under the impression that we agreed that it was more dignified for individuals of our station."

"Scar's freakin' scary," Kisame says defensively. "Anyway, kunoichi – it's not for you to keep. You're great and everything, but I wouldn't give my Finding Nemo scarf to anybody. Do us a favor and tie it around your eyes."

Sakura chokes indignantly, waving the scarf at him in protest. "I'm not going to blindfold myself while in the presence of two lethal missing-nin! That goes against every self-preservation instinct I have!"

"It is either that or we knock you out," Itachi replies impassively. "I believed that you would prefer to remain conscious."

Sakura rolls her eyes. "Your kindness and generosity are unsurpassed. Besides, how am I supposed to travel efficiently while blindfolded?"

"You don't," Kisame supplies.

Sakura's right hand tightens around the delicate scarf, and Kisame cannot help but gulp.

"Kisame will carry you," Itachi decrees.

This would not have been a problem, if Kisame had not chosen that exact moment to assure Sakura that Itachi would carry her.

There is a moment of awkward silence in the kitchen.

Sakura raises an eyebrow.

Kisame subtly elbows Itachi in the ribs.

Itachi sends a don't-you-dare brand of death glare in his partner's direction.

"I have a horrible spinal condition, you know," Kisame says conversationally. "It perks up around the full moon – has something to do with the tides and whatnot. In the interests of preserving my health, Itachi, in his endless consideration, has opted to carry you instead."

"How very courteous of him." There is a definite tone of skepticism in Sakura's voice as she reluctantly ties the undignified scarf around her eyes.

"You did not just," Itachi murmurs, his lips barely moving, "go there."

Kisame examines the state of his nail polish, evidently unconcerned. "As a matter of fact, I did. Now, get over there. You have a kunoichi to carry. And, yeah, you can thank me later."

It isn't difficult at all to sweep Sakura into his arms, but Itachi performs every necessary movement tentatively and half-flinching, as if he expects her skin to burn his upon making contact. Kisame practically dances back and forth and giggles, and Itachi sneers at him, while privately thanking all the gods that Hidan, Tobi, and especially Deidara are not here to see this.

As he carries Sakura out of Headquarters, accompanied by Kisame, the kunoichi takes the opportunity to deliver him a warning kick on the ribs. "If you break my neck due to a random and inexplicable physical spasm," she cautions, "or if you drop me to my death now that I've outlived my usefulness to your weird little cause – you're going to have hell to pay. I will come back as a ghost, and I will haunt you for the rest of your days and generally make your life miserable."

Despite the fact that Nemo and Dory, respectively, are currently plastered over Sakura's eyes, Itachi has the distinct feeling that she is glaring at him as menacingly as she can, and he has to fight to keep the amusement in his voice to a bare minimum, as he and Kisame make their way into the branches of a nearby tree. "Indeed."

"Freaking Uchiha and their monosyllables," Sakura mutters in a resentful undertone, as they begin the long journey home.

-

Much to Kisame's quiet amusement, the decidedly snarky banter between Itachi and Sakura continues for a good half of the way to Konoha, upon which point the kunoichi falls into a light doze, having more or less overcome her fear of having her neck broken by a random and inexplicable physical spasm, or being dropped to her death.

"Aww," he has to chip in, at this point. "She trusts you – or…something…"

Itachi has a rather dangerous expression on his face. "I am not speaking to you."

"But—"

"Not speaking!"

Kisame shuts up, and decides to save any and all spirited renditions of Itachi and Sakura, sitting in a tree… for later.

-

Sakura wakes up just in time to inform Itachi and Kisame, superciliously, that they cannot expect to make their way past the Konoha guard towers, and if they had any interest in keeping their lives intact, they had better drop her off right here and let her go the remaining three miles on her own.

Itachi and Kisame pride themselves on being generally stoic and calm individuals, but upon hearing this declaration, both of them laugh openly for no less than a minute. Blindfolded or not, Sakura manages to throw a twig in Kisame's direction, and kicks Itachi in the ribs for the second time of the night.

-

Much to her dismay, when she feels herself being set down on the ground for the first time in two and a half hours and the Finding Nemo scarf is once again pocketed by Kisame, Sakura finds herself in front of her apartment. She gapes wordlessly. "How did you—"

"Tobi has many failings," Itachi frowns, "but he is, admittedly, extremely skilled at reconnaissance."

Sakura recoils visibly. "Ew. Stalkers."

It takes all the considerable strength Itachi possesses to not fall down flat on the floor with comical Xs over his eyes.

Kisame takes this a little better, and he steps toward her, his hand outstretched. Sakura returns the gesture with a reluctant smile, takes the hand, and as Itachi watches disbelievingly, the two primary sources of his recent misery share a hug. "Take care of yourself, Bruce," she says with a grin. "Don't get stuck in the lotus position or accidentally drink shark-fin soup or anything stupid like that."

Kisame winces. "That's nothing to joke about, you know. And you – try your best to keep your blood pressure down. That may be difficult, but anything is possible with yoga and breathing exercises."

Sakura rolls her eyes affectionately, and Kisame chances a look around at his partner, who is breathing shallowly and looking somewhat scarier than usual. "Oh, look at the time," the shark-man says airily. "I think I'm going to go and scare that weird green spandex freak in his sleep. I'll meet you at the bridge in fifteen, okay?"

To give credit where credit is due, Itachi somehow manages to restrain himself from jumping on Kisame, wrapping his arms around his neck, and pleading him not to leave. Instead, he manages to incline his head a fraction of an inch. "Very well."

Kisame wiggles his fingers cheerfully at Itachi and Sakura. "Toodles!"

With that, he disappears, leaving the unlikely couple alone.

"So," Sakura says, tapping her foot on the floor.

"…So."

There is a highly awkward silence between them, and Itachi, out of his deeply rooted preference for natural silences as compared to awkward ones, decides to take the initiative. He does this after clearing his throat about three times, while Sakura gives him several dubious looks.

"Sakura," Itachi manages at last. Privately unable to believe that he is even doing this, he reaches forward and tentatively takes her hand. He feels her muscles tense underneath his touch, but she does not pull away, instead fixing him with a look of utter suspicion. Thankfully, that particular look melts into one of satisfaction, after he withdraws the Dior sunglasses from his cloak and presses them into her hand, before curling her slight fingers around the priceless fashion accessory. "…Thank you."

Sakura blinks, drawing the sunglasses back to her. For somebody as skilled as reading body language as he is, Itachi is surprised to find that he cannot decipher the inscrutable expression in her eyes.

At long last, she brings two fingers to her mouth, pressing them lightly against her lips. Itachi tries his level best to not be mesmerized by this simple action, but fails. Miserably.

It is a testament to his remarkable self-restraint alone that when Sakura touches the kissed fingers to his cheek, Itachi does not faint. Or drop dead of sheer surprise. Instead, he blinks once, just once, wondering if she had caught him in some sort of sick, twisted genjutsu while his guard had been down.

Sakura laughs a little; the surprise in his eyes is evident. "That's for the spark of decency that lies within you, Uchiha Itachi," she says softly, as she pulls her hand back.

Itachi realizes unpleasantly that, once again, that this remarkable kunoichi has reduced him to speechlessness.

She smiles at him, then – a sweet, completely disarming smile, not unlike the one she had bestowed on Tobi so many times.

Then Sakura punches him in the jaw.

It is a hard hit, enough to shatter his icy self-control, and tilt his head fractionally to the right; despite the slight movement, Itachi can feel the simultaneous cracking of all six vertebrae in his neck.

Sakura draws the offending fist back, and blows lightly on her knuckles. "And that," she explains, "is to remind you to call on that little spark more often."

The retreat that she beats into her apartment is extraordinary speedy, yet elegant.

Itachi stares after her, at the closed door, for five minutes straight.

-

After a short while spent vandalizing the house of the sleeping Maito Gai, Kisame remembers that he has to meet Itachi at the bridge. He draws another shark on the Konoha shinobi's refrigerator in Sharpie, and then blows that popsicle joint, stopping only to grab a handful of lollipops from a kitchen cabinet.

He finds Itachi leaning on the bridge's railing, staring deeply into his reflection. True, Kisame cannot actually see his face, but he doubts that any Konoha guys get their kicks out of dressing up as an Akatsuki member.

"Hey," he greets his partner, coming to rest beside him. "You'll never guess what I did to the spandex freak's house—"

Then Itachi looks up at him, and the words die in Kisame's throat.

"…That's a hell of a hickey," he manages, as he stares, awe-struck, at Itachi's jaw. "Odd angle, though."

The Uchiha prodigy blinks once. "It's not."

It takes a few moments for Kisame to put it together, but when he does, his jaw drops. After hastily recovering himself, he unearths one of the stolen lollipops, feeling rather frantic. "Lollipop? It'll make it all better. I promise."

"I doubt it."

Regardless, Kisame speedily unwraps the bright orange lollipop and pries it into Itachi's clamped lips. "Is that better?" he asks, worried.

Itachi mutters something incoherent, around the fluorescent citrus-flavored orb that has been stuck so unceremoniously into his mouth.

"Oh, my Buddha." Kisame paces in a circle, trying his best to remember all the dating articles he had ever read in the Miss Manners column. Finally, the perfect solution comes to him, and he holds his arms out placatingly. "Man-hug. Now."

"Kisame, I do not want—"

"Now!" Kisame barks. "You'll thank me later."

Itachi submits without further argument.

-

It is a long, dark, and dismal return to Akatsuki Headquarters. Much to Kisame's alarm, he finds Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi waiting up for them in the living room. Itachi enters first, his face carefully expressionless, and all three other members perk up noticeably upon seeing him – despite Kisame's desperate flailings of Oh, Buddha, please don't go there.

"Wow, un," Deidara is the first to speak. "That's a hell of a hickey. …Odd angle, though."

Itachi says nothing, but his eyes glint dangerously.

-

It takes Hidan, Tobi, and Kisame the rest of the night to scrape Deidara off the floor.

Don't worry – it's not done yet. Not by a long shot. :)

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