The Life and Times of the Kazekage's Assistant

Disclaimer:I don't own Naruto. This story is inspired by a novel by Lauren Weisberger. I do own Tsubasa Imamura, any other OCs in the story, the designer labels and names of the magazines/newspapers, and the plot.

Author's Note:This chapter was inspired by several different songs that I had playlist set to repeat. Tsubasa will be forced to undergo several months of being Gaara's pretend girlfriend. It should prove to be funny and amusing. I hope to add many fluffy moments between them. ;)

Special Thanks to: NeferNeferi, for your support and extremely helpful ideas. Rose1991, for your amazing ideas as well. They were used in this chapter. :)

Chapter Seventeen: Tsubasa, Pick Up The Phone

I hopped out of my room with a heart full of dreams and my kunai holster. I quickly wrapped it around my leg and set off toward the office. By now I had become accustomed to seeing all those models lined up outside the office, waiting for Temari. When I had first started working it was so demeaning to walk to the office in the mornings. I looked like I had just woken up, but they all looked like they had been prepping themselves for hours. It showed in their goddess-like hairstyles, beautifully made up faces, and wonderfully put together ensembles. I had looked like something that the cat dragged in and coughed a hairball on (twice). They had been walking around in the stilettos, and I had never gotten that memo. They had stared at me like I was an alien, some sort of freak, and they all seemed so perfect.

Now, I walk down the hall with confidence, rocking a pair of four-inch-high stilettos that are one of a kind (thanks to Tazuna!). The butterflies that used to flutter around my stomach don't flutter near the models anymore because I'm just as chic and well-dressed as they are. The only time butterflies invade my intestines is when I'm near Gaara. My confidence always shrivels into nothing around him.

Ah, now that I'm on the topic of Gaara (I shouldn't have gotten myself started), I just gave myself the shivers. That's what I get when I think about him… (Yes, I'm sighing very dramatically right now).

He was born with such an exotic name. Gaara of the desert. Sabaku no Gaara. Now he's referred to simply as Kazekage-sama. Though, I prefer Gaara-sama (kun). He could have even had a common name, but somehow the name would have gained more prestige just because it was attached to him.

And I'm obsessed with him. I've got his picture hidden in my nightstand drawer. I dream about him when I sleep. I go out of my way, just hoping to catch a glimpse as he passes through the hall. I know just who his sensei was in school and what team he was on. I know the year he completed the chunin exam. I know the names of all his family members, deceased and living. I'd like a lock of his hair, even though that's a little bit insane. I can't help it if I think I see him everywhere. His smile sets my heart alight. He electrocutes me with his eyes. The very mention of his name and my stomach is filled with fluttering butterflies. He and I have to be meant to be. In my fantasy, we live so happily. I'm skipping down the aisle with his hand in mine. He turns to me and smiles. That's usually when my alarm clock rings, and I wake up in denial.

I admit it. I've got it baaaad.

Grammatically speaking, he's adorable. He's even more than adorable. He's the most beautiful person I've ever seen and known, despite his horrific past. I'm obsessed. No, I'm possessed… I'm possessed by this Tsubasa I don't know. It's a mess, and I'm stressed out over these things (like having to be his pretend girlfriend). I can't think of how I'm going to survive this, and my hearts beating much faster than my mouth can react. I have no idea how to talk to him now. You can only imagine how jealous my mouth is, unable to compete with the quick, cadenced thrashing of my heart.

I'm thinking that there's got to be a class for this, something or someone to teach me how to act around Gaara now. I need some sort of proper instruction because this is a situation that I have no clue on how to handle. Perhaps Tazuna could offer advice, but it's not like she's ever had to be someone's pretend girlfriend. I'm also thinking that trouble is just waiting eagerly to hop on and take a wild ride on my back, as it usually does. And the burden is growing heavier by the second. I have no clue how I'm going to get myself out of this one.

I can't see why I just can't lock myself in the bathroom and allow myself to bleed out the tears until I can't go on anymore. Then I can stare into the mirror as I'm crying, wondering how the hell I got myself into this fine mess. One on one is more fun anyway, so they say. Who needs a pretend boyfriend? Why did he have to pick me anyway? Doesn't he know how it's crushing me? Or maybe my feelings just don't really matter to him? So many questions and not enough answers. No answers at all, really.

I got the shivers again. I need to stop thinking about it, about him. It's so hard not to though. Gaara is Gaara. He's the most difficult person to get out of your head, especially when your head over heels in love with him like I am, forced into being his pretend girlfriend (well, not forced, but unable to refuse) meanwhile he has no clue about how I feel about him. I just have to pretend I've got the same old zip in my step. I can't let anyone know what's going on. Of course, Matsuri and Kanoka are unaware that I'm Gaara's pretend girlfriend (thank Kami). I don't need them harassing me and making fun of me for it. It might even hassle those two when they see Gaara and I walking around Suna as boyfriend and girlfriend. At least, I can get some joy out of that. The only ones who actually know of this plan are Gaara, me, Kankuro, and Temari. That's all who needs to know about it.

How do I get myself in these situations? I wonder. And I just keep candy-coating things as much as I can, and I keep pushing myself even thought I can't take it anymore. I keep reminding myself that Gaara is worth it.

Gaara is worth me losing my self-esteem. Gaara's worth soiling my reputation. Gaara's worth pushing myself to the limits. Gaara's worth putting myself in these situations. Gaara's worth losing my sanity. Gaara's worth breaking my own heart for the sake of his contentment.

Tsubasa, pick up the phone.

The phone… Pick it up? That was a random thought. Perhaps I'm already losing my sanity.

Tsubasa, pick up the phone.

It is she; it's me calling to you, Gaara. It's me who doesn't sleep, but has the same dream over and over again. No, no. Get a grip, Tsubie. You're losing it!

"TSUBASAAAA, pick up the phone!"

My head snapped up and back. I was completely disoriented. There was a loud buzz in my ears, like that of a telephone ring (and it was indeed a telephone ring). I checked my surroundings. I was in the office, and Temari was going blue in the face as she screamed for me to answer the telephone. I had let my thoughts run away with me that morning. I'm sure Temari knew I was having trouble fathoming my entire predicament. I hate that bitch. She has no mercy, she spares no one, and she takes no prisoners.

"Moshi, moshi. This is the Kazekage's office. Tsubasa Imamura speaking, how may I help you?"

"Imamura-san, it's me. Could you meet me at Sayori's Café in an hour for a date?" I gulped. It was Gaara, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't just a friendship meeting, it was a date. He actually said the word date... He was asking me out on a date! "One of the council members often goes to the café, and I'd like him to spot us there." That last sentence brought me back to reality. What I really can't believe is my momentary lapse in memory. Duh, Tsubasa. He asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend so the council would get off his back about marrying any time soon. He's asking you for a pretend date, not a real one.

Reality bites, especially when you're me.

"Hai," I replied into the receiver. My voice sounded completely drained of any enthusiasm or excitement (there's nothing to be excited over if it's just a fake date). "I'll meet you there in an hour."

"Imamura-san, are you feeling alright?" He sounded so concerned, but I didn't let myself become fooled again. That was probably a farce too.

"I'm fine. I won't be late." Click. I must admit that I did feel slightly guilty for hanging up on Gaara so abruptly, but it was painful to hear his voice at this point. I sighed as I let the phone fall down to place. Temari hung by the side of my desk, hand on her hip; terrorist-mode. I knew that look when I saw it. I braced myself for some sort of rebuke or scolding, it wasn't like I wasn't used to it by now anyway.

"Come on," she instructed me, turning her back toward me. "You need to look beautiful for the date. That's going to take some time." I could hear Matsuri snickering in the background, though she was completely unaware of the situation. She was only laughing because of Temari's insult. If she only knew what was going on… that I was (pretend) dating Gaara. "If you're going to be dating my brother, you need to look presentable. Gaara deserves the best."

Matsuri's mouth hung open wide like a drawbridge. Temari shot her an icy glare that made Matsuri's mouth shut back tight. The glare hadn't taken away all of Matsuri's withering audacity because she said, "Tsubasa is dating Gaara? Is this some sort of joke?"

"Matsuri, I recommend you mind your business in the future and don't eavesdrop," Temari snapped angrily, her other hand attaching itself to her free hip. Two hands on her hips… That was bad. Very bad. However, a smirk graced Temari's face suddenly, and it startled me. "But if you must know, Gaara and Tsubasa are dating. They're quite the pair, don't you think?" Temari didn't wait for Matsuri bitch face to answer. She strutted magnificently out of the office, expecting me to follow. Of course, I followed, and I managed not to sneak a glance back at Matsuri. Though the crushed look on her face would have brought me joy, I was far too embarrassed to actually check on it.

Temari's attitude completely changed once she had sent me into her personal fitting room. She wasn't the fire-breathing bitch dragon I'd known her to be. She softly said, "Tsubasa, I know how you feel about my little brother, and I'm sorry that you were put in this predicament, but you were the best candidate."

I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted a salty tear on my lips. I bowed my head low, giving a short laugh and a small smile. "Temari-hime, I'd do anything for your brother even if it meant sacrificing my own life for his, or in this case, my dignity. So please, don't feel sorry for me. I'm happy to serve our Kazekage in any way that I can."

"You're more admirable than I thought you to be," Temari said gently. Her hand rose a touched at my shoulder in a tender manner. Then she withdrew it, placing it back on her hip. The Temari I love to hate came back. "Let's hurry this up. We don't have a lot of time and we have quite a bit of work to do."

I had gotten made-up like a top runway model before, but nothing like what Temari did for me. She made me goddess-like, truly goddess-like and without looking fake or overdone (but just right). She picked out a dress the same blue as my eyes, which made them POP more than they usually do (because I tend to look a lot more doe-eyed than most girls). I wore black nylons with Desert Kitsune ballet flats. I also wore a black beret, and was adorned with flattering accessories like one-of-a-kind bangles, and never-before-worn long-chained necklaces. My hair was curled into perfect ringlets. Red lipstick, Temari had told me, was a must for this ensemble. And so was the whole smoky-eye look that had been one of the newest popular trends. My eyes were sultry, blue oceans surrounded by black rings. They reminded me of Gaara's eyes, and after ignoring the small tinge of pain, I was so excited to have my eyes nearly matching with Gaara's.

I walked into Sayori's Café with confidence, and surprisingly, with Temari's blessing (shocker). Gaara was already waiting for me in the corner of the café. Now, before I continue, I have to drop a little knowledge on Sayori's Café. Sayori's is an exclusive café, meaning it's only open to Sand Castle residents. We each carry our own pass cards, our golden ticket into places such as this. Those pass cards can usually be scanned by a bouncer (yes, Sayori's is a café with a bouncer. Yes, it's cool) at the front door. Sayori's for example, is for all and any Sand Castle residents from the Kazekage down to the maids. Now, Club Sabaku (named after our lovely Kazekage, of course), is a different story. Club Sabaku is reserved for the elite: the Kazekage (not that he goes clubbing, which would be interesting to see), Temari and her models, Kankuro, the main assistants, the council members, and any special guests that might be in town. The assistants are entitled to one guest, but the Sand Siblings can invite however many they like.

Anyway, sorry for getting off topic like that, but I need to mention these important details because you'll need to know these things for later.

So, Gaara looks up, staring directly at me before I had even entered the doorway. It was as if he sensed my presence. His eyes never left me, even when I was getting checked in by the bouncer, even as I took a little look-see over at the pastries counter. And he was smiling too. It all felt so genuine. I felt light and giddy; almost like the night I snuck over to his room and planted my infamous avocado kiss. I had the weirdest urge to just twirl around like a ninja on too many food and sugar pills. It was a strange but beautiful feeling.

It all stopped the minute I spotted councilman Watanabe near the window, basking in the sunlight with his coffee in one hand and a dumpling in the other. I need to quit becoming so delusional lately because it's definitely not good for my health here. The happy little butterflies that had initially been fluttering around in my stomach fluttered away. I was still somewhat cheerful (not really), but not in the way that I had been before. I made my way over to Gaara and took my seat.

"Hey." Usually I would have greeted him more formally, but once those jubilant butterflies had flown out of my system, I just felt drained and a little upset.

"I hope you don't mind," Gaara said under his breath, "but I ordered for you already." He motioned toward a cup of hot chocolate and cinnamon coffee cake (my favorite). If I hadn't been so upset with him, I'd be very much taken (smitten) by the action. He remembered my favorite treats…

"It's fine." I smiled, but I tried not to look to enthusiastic. His mouth opened as he began to say something, but then he promptly closed it. His eyes lost contact with mine as he stared at an estranged sugar packet that had gotten separated from the other sugar packets. "What is it?"

My voice startled him because when he looked back at me, his raccoon eyes were wide with shock, or maybe even fear. I had never seen that look in my boss's eyes, and it made me afraid. Without speaking, he snaked his hand around the frame of my chair and pulled it close to his, very close. His arm awkwardly slipped between the frame and my back, and then around my waist. "Kankuro advised me to sit with you like this," he murmured, his voice shaky. I could tell now what that fear was from before. Fear of rejection. That was a feeling I knew (and experienced) very well. "Please let me know if you feel uncomfortable. I can tone it down, if you'd like."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, boiling underneath until they were rosy red. "It's alright." My voice was strained. "I, uh, I don't mind." Every inch of skin that his arm hovered over was on fire, seeping through my skin and smoldering through my veins and my bones. It was smoking through me, spreading to the rest of my untouched limbs and warming them to a burn. "I could get used to this," I breathed. I hadn't meant to say that out loud, hadn't even meant to think it. And as if I wasn't red enough, wasn't torrid enough, I nearly hit combustion.

He seemed surprised at first, but then he just smiled. And I might have just been imagining things (which I've been known to do), but I think he tightened his grip around my waist. It felt good, and calming other than the burst of fire that came with it. His lips moved to speak. "Me too," I thought they were about to say.

And then, stupid Councilman Watanabe ruined things for me. Again.

"Kazekage-sama, ohayo," he greeted. "Ohayo, Imamura-san." That bastard killed off my moment, my mood, and the smoldering fire that had been burning through me, as Gaara outreached the arm that was around my waist to shake Watanabe's hand. I have to admit that I was pretty disappointed when Gaara didn't sling his arm back around me. It just rested on the table next to my uneaten coffee cake, and I felt terribly cold.

"Ohayo, Councilman," replied Gaara.

"Ohayo," I mustered a grumble.

Jerk.

They then began to discuss Kazekage related topics, from the great feat against some rogue ninjas and the Murakami bandits (yay, I was congratulated!) to the plentiful harvest seasons Suna was having. Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to handle anymore chitchat about the weather, Councilman Watanabe excused himself from the conversation, said his goodbyes, and left the café. During that time I had managed to take a bite or two out of my coffee cake and a sip of my hot chocolate, but somehow they didn't cheer me up as the usually did, which was most likely because Gaara had excused himself to take care of some business. Business that didn't include me.

Don't get me wrong, usually I'd be leaping for joy that I finally got a break. A break is nice… But I like getting some slack from Temari and Kankuro, not the Kazekage. I enjoy working and hauling ass for Gaara.

It makes me feel like he needs me… like he'd be a hopeless mess without me.

At that moment, I realized it was the other way around. I'm the one who needs him, and I'm the hopeless mess.

-Why His Zipper?-

I was rushing as I fast as I could, already late as it was. I barely managed the door to the office open with my elbow, when I stumbled in. I knocked over one of Matsuri's picture frames and she cussed at me, but I kept going. I couldn't wait for her to finish running her foul mouth. No when Gaara was waiting on me to deliver the papers and time had flown by me without my noticing. I zoomed through the French doors, pushing them closed with my leg. He was leaning against his desk, sexy, devastatingly handsome, and waiting on me. I tried to turn the rest of my body with my neck but somehow legs became tangled and then gave way underneath me. The papers raced out of my hands. I hit the ground and I slammed into Gaara's lower half. As if, we hadn't had enough close encounters, I was brought this one.

The blood flushed my face and I was bright red. When I tried to stand, I felt my hair was caught in something and I flinched until I was back in my sad position on the floor. I looked up and came face to face with a zipper, pink hair hitched in it. My hair was snagged in the zipper of his pants. Of all places!

Why? Why me? Why him? Why his pants? Why his zipper? Why my pink hair in his zipper?

"I'm, uh, stuck," I told him, sheepishly. I dared not look up into his eyes. I didn't want to see the expression on his face, and I didn't want him to see mine. I don't know how much more embarrassed I could possibly get, but I seem to top myself each and every time. I dreaded to think about what might be next on the list for me.

"Hn." That's all he said. I had to look up now. I couldn't restrain myself any longer. When I finally met his eyes, I saw that he was chuckling. He had been trying not to. I could tell by the way his lips were puckered tightly. But he was indeed laughing. "We should try to fix that." His strong hands fell to the zipper, carefully jostling it to try to lessen the hold on my hair. I squirmed a little, positioning myself at an angle where he'd have an easier time at getting me unstuck. I couldn't help but fidget as he worked at releasing me from his zipper. I even cried out a few times when my scalp was being yanked.

Creak. Slam. Gasp. Laugh.

I heard the French doors open, creaking softly. I had been meaning to oil those hinges but hadn't gotten around to it yet. Then the doors closed behind whoever had come in. I heard a gasp, and then a hearty laugh.

"What the—?" Kuso! It was Kankuro. I'd have turned my head to look at him, but I was preoccupied with my hair and Gaara's zipper at the moment. I didn't want my hair getting yanked out just because I wanted to lash myself around to see that wannabe batman shinobi. The last thing I needed was a bald spat! "Wow, Gaara. I'd never thought you of all people would want a blow job."

A blow job? HAH! That must be exactly what it looks like from behind… that I'm giving Gaara a blow job. I mean, my head is bobbing up and down to try and get my hair out. His hands are down there, I'm down there. This looks so bad. This is so bad. I wonder what it would be like to… WAIT! NO. I did not just go there. I'm not a perv! Kankuro's the real pervert! I mean, who is going to walk in without knocking, see someone giving someone else a blow job, and actually stay to watch and confront the two about it? Huh? Not that I'm actually giving Gaara one. I mean, this was all an innocent accident! I'm just going to shut up now.

The conversation broke down like this:

"Your first blow job! Temari would love to document this moment."

"Kankuro, you're mistaken. Imamura and I were just—"

"You don't have to explain to me what you were doing! I know what's going on here. I mean, come on Gaara. I'm your older brother. I know about blow jobs. Not like I've never had one. They're fun. Wait until you try and give her—"

"Kankuro!" I found my voice again.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Tsubasa," said Kankuro, still laughing. "I'll leave you two to finish. And don't worry, I won't tell Temari. Enjoy yourselves!" And before Gaara or I could get another word in, Kankuro was out of those French Doors most likely hinting at Kanoka that he wanted a little something, something (if you know what I'm referring to).

"Don't move," Gaara said, not mentioning Kankuro's speculations. "I almost have it." Ziiiip. And I was free again.

My hands rubbed at the tender area on my head, massaging at the scalp. I glanced up nervously at him, unsure of whether I should stand up or not.

"I apologize about my brother's behavior and his inappropriate assumptions." He extended his hand to me, and I received it. It hauled me up at his side. I was still kneading my head with my fingers. "I'll explain to him what was really going on so that your reputation isn't ruined. Kankuro should be smart enough not to spread this rumor, but that's not to say that he won't. I'll make sure you're cleared from this accusation."

"That would be good," I murmured. My voice wasn't listening to me. It cracked every time I spoke. "I'm sorry about all of this. I mean, all these awkward situations wouldn't happen if it weren't for me. I'm so clumsy, and I'm just a magnet for this trouble. I'm a jinx, really."

That's when something unbelievably insane and hallucination-worthy occurred. Gaara shook his head, as if to differ what I had just said. He came pleasantly close to me, placed his hands on my shoulders to steady me because I'm pretty sure I was shaking. Gaara's eyes searched mine with tender precision, as if every answer to any question he ever had lied within my eyes of running mascara.

I was trying painfully hard not to cry at the moment, to hold in my anguish and my frustration. I had survived worse, I told myself. Though it all just kept piling on. More and more, and more.

His eyes widened, took all of me in, as if they were seeing me for the first time. As if he saw me for the first time. It was like he realized something in those teal orbs, something secret I wasn't allowed to know. And I almost thought I was feeling that realization along with him. It was so strong, so full of hope and… something else, something I couldn't put my finger on. "Tsubasa," he murmured as his voice quivered, and I could feel his arms very slowly wrapping themselves around me. I thought this could be it. This could be the end to all my suffering.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Could you pick up the phone?" Gone within seconds. He blinked a few times, pulled back as he released me from his grasp, and his eyes fooled me into believing the realization he had vanished completely.

I nodded, turned my back to him because I couldn't face him at that moment, and did one of the only things I was good for. I answered the phone.

Author's Note: College life has been extremely hectic for me. It's kept me very busy as well, so I apologize for the extended absence. I've tried to bust out the updates as much as possible, but it's proved quite difficult. Forgive me.

Have you ever felt as frustrated as Tsubasa has? Or perhaps, has there been a moment when you've been genuinely excited, thinking this could be a shining moment, only to be let down by being asked to do something insignificant like picking up a phone? Have you ever felt taken for granted and belittled like Tsubasa has this chapter? Are you ready for some more fluff with Gaara and Tsubasa? Let me know in a review. I'd love to hear your feedback and stories. (: