Disclaimer: If one could purchase Sasuke with dirty dreams and conspicuous amounts of drool, he would totally be mine…. But alas….
Note: All I seem to be doing now a days in my Authors notes is apologizing to all you readers for my lack of awesome in writing inspiration. I could give you numerous excuses, but I'm seriously just disgusted with how I've left you hanging for so long. For some strange reason that little part in my brain that dictates responsibility has decreased in mass. I'm hoping that a pot of coffee, my new Almost Alice CD and a house all to myself will dish out something readable for all you wonderfully patient (some not so patient; I don't like threats of dismemberment…) ficfans.
Again I didn't respond to those extremely kind enough to review (LOVE YOU GUYS!), and for that I'm doubly disgusted with myself. Ugh! Bad Ambrosia, bad bad bad. (Slaps wrist repeatedly with ruler.)
Thank Yous of the EMORMOUS VARIETY (takes deep breath); Jay_chAn, Kittycatloveshinata, XxVioletAshesxX, Kriket, Frogflower, CocoaAngel95, Kurai Akuryou no Joou, MsLOvEtORocK, Blowoutthatcherrybomb (kick butt name by the way, made me giggle), PuckAngel101, Charmingkitty, Ppeach2, Mac, Sepsis, Le Petite Vicky, Lems, Cheh, Athi, Blipblop, Moony92, Kisa Tsutaka, Rcr, Lilmaimas, Aka karla, ImCutePoison, Styllea, Anon, Midnight blue08, FeatherBerry, Kibagaaralover18, Cerawitch, NewRageInc, Therwolfnamedshe, Kurumi-chan (hope you're still alive!), *Insert name here*, Tayla, Peachluver, Boyarina, and last but certainly never ever least, Snowbells! (Gasps for air!)
Good Golly miss Molly! That was a lot of reviews. You are all so wonderfully amazing! I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate your kind words and hilarity! Another big Thanks to those who added me to their favs and alert lists, without you guys my I never would be able to have the confidence to put fingers to keyboard.
So now without further ado, lets turn this trot into a gallop and YEE-HAW;
Chapter Two:
To A Slight Misunderstanding:
Honestly she blamed her knees; those two overrated, and apparently useless lumps of flesh and bone that were wedged between her lower thighs and upper shins.
On normal people during normal situations, knees could perform amazing feats. They could help one run, jump, skip, rescue orphans and possibly stop a careening buggy from trampling a senior citizen.
But she wasn't normal. And this wouldn't exactly fall under that ever elusive category of 'Normalcy' that seemed to confound her. For when Hinata paused in the doorway that separated her and that crowded, brawling saloon; hands clenching with white knuckles the serving tray holding two steaming bowls of House Special stew, her knees began to tremble.
No, Not tremble. Tremble was too mild a term to apply to the violent jerking of those stupid, yet vital joints unwilling to propel her further into the chaos of flying bottles, catcalls, and leering faces.
Oh how she wished she were back in her room right now. Who cared if the small space she slept was no bigger than a broom closet, it was infinitely more appealing than the wide, open expanse awash with the pale yellow lights of garish fixtures and swarthy with the smoke of cigars she now faced.
Taking a deep breath, Hinata tried to steady her nerves as she took her first step out of the kitchen and onto the pockmarked floors of the saloon. She heard the swinging door groan to a close behind her and knew that there was no turning back. Forcing her opal eyes up from her feet, the bluette glanced wearily about.
The Kat House was swelling with customers tonight, more than the usual handful of cattle hands and grimy upper-class. Continuing her skittish perusal, she caught Kiba giving her a look of puzzled concern behind the bar as he placed a mug of frothing liquid in front of Konoha's local newspaper editor/writer Jiraiya, who just so happened to be one of Kurenai's most faithful customers. The white haired man followed the bartender's gaze and landed on Hinata with a paralyzing and all together uncomfortably degrading scrutiny. Obviously seeing her little of interest, Jiraiya's eye's danced off her and back to the stage captivated by the promising sway of Ino's hips as she crooned a lusty ballad.
As fast as Hinata's terror struck at the idea of being inspected like a cow at auction, it dissolved into a small start of victory. She nearly smiled with how silly she was behaving. Giving Kiba a reassuring nod she focused back on the task at hand.
Of course she had nothing to worry about. True, the large crowd of hungry looking men still unnerved her, but logically, she realized not one of them would find her the least bit desirable in her ill fitting rags and batter caked hair-scarf. Not when they were surrounded by Kurenai's garden of scantily clad Flowers blooming in every shade, more than eager to service each and every one of them with the slightest crook of his finger.
Soaring on the new found confidence in her pronounced unappeal to the male species, Hinata took her second, third, and fourth steps further into the web of tables and bodies. If anything, the smell was what affected her most. Grazing by a group of poker players, tanned faces taunt with focus, she breathed in the nauseating swirl of tobacco, sweat, and cheap perfume (courtesy of a giggling TenTen straddling a playful looking Yamato's lap as he stole blatant peeks at her overflowing cleavage.).
The bun-haired 'Kitty' gave Hinata a look that matched Kiba's before whispering something into Yamato's ear, making the older man blush from the vee of his button up shirt to the roots of his hair. The gaping bluette shuffled to the side as TenTen pulled the older man to his feet and dragged him by the hand to the beaded doorway leading up to the private rooms.
"Guess that means he folds." A man known as Genma laughed suggestively; the piece of hay in the corner of his mouth lifting with a smirk at the rest of the poker group.
"Yeah but if that's losing, I'd be happy to bow out anytime." Another man Hinata heard Kurenai fondly call, Izumo murmured with a smile of his own as he collected his winnings from the center of the table.
Turning a deaf ear to the rest of the obscene gibes, the maid, gathering courage with each step, continued her trek to the back of the dance hall. Her tray clutched securely in her hands. A few more twist and turns and table two was in sight. Tucked back into the corner of the saloon and half bathed in shadows, her destination appeared to be empty of customers. Which was just as well, Hinata figured. It spared her those few moments of awkward silence that fell over tables when conversations were interrupted by the fumbling of plates and forced courtesy.
It was at this point in time when things turn for the worse. Worse and worst and grim and horrible and vile and all other synonyms that applied therein.
So distracted with a demure hope-filled glee was Hinata, that she failed to see that slightly raised floor board jutting a good two inches higher than the rest.
So occupied with the prayers of thanks she was going to whisper when she got back to the kitchens unscathed, that she didn't notice the toe of her thin slipper catching the edge of said board.
So was she all these things, that when it finally registered that her upper body was moving forward, whereas her lower half wasn't, it was too late.
And the last conscious thought she had before she fell head first across the, now magically inhabited, chair at table two was that she honestly hated her knees.
She awoke with a groan, not knowing how much time had passed since she had been airborne. Instead of opening her eyes, Hinata considered her current position.
She was lying on her stomach.
Lying on something that was warm. Something that was entirely hard and yet soft at the same time. Something that smelled of earth, and horse, and something all together male.
Something …that was breathing?
With a squeak, Hinata tentatively wrenched open her eyes and found herself face to chest with the ebony fabric of a man's shirt.
Oh Good Lord…
She began to struggle, pushing her hands into the somethi- somebody's ribs, hoping to escape the foreign hands that had gripped her hips in an iron hold.
"Don't. Move."
Hinata froze at the deep growl she felt more than heard rumble from the man holding her. She jumped slightly, not hearing the catch in her captures breathing as her hips rolled higher against the rough fabric of his denim.
Strange, the bluette thought, shifting once more against the hard object pressing into her lower abdomen, I thought the Sheriff confiscated all guns after dusk.
"Stop moving, Now!" The man half shouted/ half groaned, his back slightly arching off the floor, forcing Hinata's trembling body to slide harder over his sprawled form.
More afraid then she had been in her entire life, Hinata lifted her head, eyes widening as they followed the line of defined muscles to the visibly pulsating stretch of his corded neck, up the shadowed curve of a stubbled-jaw.
Hinata felt her heart stop.
Even with his eyes clenched shut in what appeared to be agony, the man that lay beneath her, molding her hips to his own by a grip that bordered on bruising, was decidedly the most beautiful man she had ever scene. And when the gleaming eyes of twin black pools snapped open and locked onto her; Hinata instantly knew he was decidedly the most terrifying one as well.
Lavender.
He gave the color that painted his vision in a heady lust a name. A name that matched the shade of the largest eyes he'd ever seen.
Lavender. Innocent, sweet Lavender.
He could feel her breath fanning across his cheek in unsteady puffs, her heart racing against his chest, pumping just as fast as his was loud.
God, it really had been too long since he had felt the delicious weight of a woman above him, around him. Just the rasping of her skirts against his jeans had his instincts screaming to roll her onto her back, lift those damned layers and thrust himself into a heat that was more potent than any drink and more welcoming then thoughts of home.
Just thinking about the ways he could have her made the blood in his groin boil to an explosive temperature. So what they were in the middle of a busy saloon? So what that this bar wench with the Lavender eyes looked half crazed with terror? So what that he could feel the stew that had splattered onto the floor when she landed in his lap was now seeping into his shirt?
If he learned anything in those years he played double agent in the Sound Gang, it was take what you want, when you want it, and damn the rest.
Right now he wanted Lavender. He wanted to devour the color with his lips, teeth, and mouth. He wanted to feast on Lavender. Breathe it, immerse himself so deep in Lavender that he wouldn't be able to tell up from down, in from out, right from wrong.
And he wanted it no-
Sasuke blinked as the object of his rampant fantasies was ripped out of his hold and pushed behind an infuriated tattooed bartender. It was then, as he slowly got to his feet, that Sasuke noticed how quiet the saloon was.
In a play of nonchalance, he bent down and retrieved his Stetson off the ground. Slapping it against his leg to knock of the accumulated dust and debris it had managed to gather off its short stint on the floor, Sasuke used the moment to glance around. He was currently on the end of some rather irate glances.
Even the skinny blonde singer was standing with her hands firmly on her nonexistent hips, glaring accusingly at him over the heads of the crowd. Most of the patrons had stayed at their tables, but nearly all of the Kitties and male employees of the establishment surrounded him.
"What is going on here?"
Came the deceptively casual drawl from behind. Sasuke turned.
The famous Madam was certainly everything rumor made her to be and more. She was garbed in a red slit gown that, though less revealing than her Kitties costumes, hugged her lush figure. Her hair was left to tumble down her shoulders in waves, making it look as though she just climbed out of a well-satisfied customers bed. And though time had creased her face with a network of soft lines, her eyes still held a youth and vitality not common with those living in hardship.
"Madam Kurenai!" The bartender stepped forward but was pulled up short at the Procuress' hand lifted in a halting wave.
"Now Kiba, let's let Mr.-" She trailed off looking at Sasuke expectantly, waiting on him to finish her sentence.
"Uchiha." Sasuke bit out between clenched teeth. His eyes narrowing as everyone let out a collective gasp. Only the Madam seemed unaffected by the discovery of an infamous Outlaw in her place of business. Though her ruby eyes did seem to grow harder as she lifted a brow.
"Uchiha. I see." Kurenai looked him over as one would trying to decide the worth of furniture. Without taking her eyes off him she raised her voice to be heard over the dark whispers circulating the hall. "It seems we have a hero in our midst's! Sasuke Uchiha who single-handedly brought the snake Orochimaru to heel has decided to grace my Saloon with his presence."
She then turned her gaze to the weary faces clustering her hall. Her eyes bore into each and every customer and employee's face, demanding attention.
"You will treat him like the hero he is. When here, Uchiha will have free drinks and open beds. Is that clear?" Phrasing it as a question was moot. For when one entered Kurenai's Kat House, one adhered to her. The Sheriff may lay the law by day, but Kurenai and her Kitties kept the peace by night and with something far more dangerous than a gun.
Speaking of Sheriff's….
Sasuke cast a gaze out to the sea of faces finding his longtime friend's particular cheery countenance curiously missing.
Kurenai gave Shikamaru a nod, which the musician returned before extinguishing his cigarette on top of the piano. His fingers moved over the keys pounding out an upbeat ditty the blonde immediately jumped into, full voice. The girls behind her began their dance, kicking up skirts and flashing skin.
The patrons slowly went back to their drinks. The bartender went back to his position and the rest of the girls spread out, taking up residence in welcoming laps and open arms.
Sasuke searched the dispersing crowd for Lav-
"You may have your choice of girls here, no charge." Came the sultry voice of the Madam from over his shoulder. Kurenai stepped beside him, standing an inch or two shorter the he. "Any preferences? Ino," She gestured to the skinny singer just now stepping down from the stage, scooping up coins as she went, "Is a particular favorite."
"No, thank you. To thin for my tastes." Sasuke stated without looking at the Madam. His mind preoccupied with memories of succulent hips fitting him so perfectly.
Where did she go?...
Kurenai gave him a knowing smile.
"Something a little more….voluptuous?" She tsked. "Perhaps Karin, then?" She waved at a more well endowed girl who promptly removed a mans hand from her bodice and started moving towards them.
"No, I don't care for red-heads."
"Interesting, I sense a story behind that." Kurenai smirked.
"Hn." Was the distracted response.
"Maybe you desire something special."
Sasuke gave the paragon of feminine sensuality standing beside him a piqued glance. Her eyes gleamed determinedly in the softly buzzing electric lights.
"Sakura is my premier performer. She's with a customer right now, but as soon as she's finished I'll send her to-"
"What color are her eyes?" Sasuke faced her fully; his eyes alight with something akin to jealousy ignoring the way the Madam stiffened slightly when he rudely interrupted her.
Is that why she wasn't here among the ton? Had someone already grabbed her? Was she entertaining another man in her rooms as he stood here like some besotted fool? Was she lavishing a stranger looks with those wide eyes of hers? Cradling him between those milky thighs as he panted over her? Moaning in his ear? Did she think of hi-
"My, you are picky, Mr. Uchiha. A detail so small as eye color…." Kurenai was curious about the play of emotions dancing across the outlaws face. It seemed the longer she withheld her answer the more twisted his face became with fury. "They're green. An unusual emerald actually. One of her many stunning features. "
Sasuke let out his breath and anger at once. An unnerving relief flooding his tense muscles.
"No."
"Perhaps you should tell me what it is you're looking for?" Kurenai snapped, finding the situation increasingly frustrating.
"Lavender." The outlaw murmured after a long pause. As his eyes were on the rabble, he didn't see the dark look cross Madame Kurenai's face. "Eyes the color of Lav-"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha. We have no one here that possesses that particular requirement."
"But I saw her."
"You must be mistaken." Kurenai tilted her chin stubbornly forward.
"I know what I saw." Sasuke growled.
"When you desire," She continued, ignoring the outlaw's increasing ire, "Choose whatever girl you see in this room and only in this room. Good night Mr. Uchiha." With that she walked off, slipping through the kitchen door moments later.
Sasuke let out a silent curse as he stood there suddenly itching for a drink. As he stalked over to the counter the tattooed bartender gave him a scathing once over.
The Uchiha plopped himself down onto a hazardous looking stool leveling the man before him a cold smile.
"Whiskey. Leave the bottle."
Knocking back glass after glass helped him forget. Forget the horrors he saw Orochimaru inflict on the innocent. Forget the horrors he was forced to inflict. Forget the sight of his mother's body. Forget the sight of his brother poised with a six-shooter in his hand, black eyes dead and lifeless.
Forget everything.
Everything but Lavender.
Author's Note: Man that was kinda long. Sorry, once I started I couldn't stop. I hope that was worth the wait most of you suffered. Again sorry for the delay!
My biggest concern right now is keeping the characters in character. And unfortunately Sasuke is a tad OOC, with his sudden fixation on Hinata. And as the story continues I'll explain my reasons he has such sudden strong feelings.
Anywhoo, thanks so much for sticking with Spaghetti Western. Until the next action-lust packed episode…..
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And as always
Happy Reading : )
~Ambrosia