And the Hokage had been true to her word. The suspension had been lifted on the same day that he had submitted the report, and he had been assigned the next day.

Mmmm maybe another look.

Holding his med pack, fingers traced the items as he took a tally of stock and equipment. Last were his tweezers, standard-issue steel in contrast to the vibrant pink of hers.

Don't think about it.

Shoving it in with force, he felt he had dislodged something confirmed by a tiny rattle on the floor. Scooping it up he stared at it before he realized what it was - Anko's necklace.

Crap.

Tsunade had given it to him for safekeeping, but with the distractions that raged he had genuinely forgotten to return it to Anko during the mission. Kakashi was late enough as it was, there was no time for a detour, so he left it on his bedside table.

I'll give it to her when I get back...

Days bled into weeks, as Kakashi took one mission after another with no prejudice. If anyone wondered why a jonin was being dispatched on D-rank it certainly hadn't been voiced to him. Mission report standards were slipping, he had slid it in to a pile awaiting processing before anyone had noticed.

"Kakashi!" Anko was bouncing over to him, half-way down the steps taking them three at a time.

"Hey," catching her, just before she overshot.

"Have you just got back?"

"Yeah, first mission and made it all the way to that bar over there," Anko gestured, with a smirk "until I remembered that I hadn't submitted my report."

Kakashi laughed at her guilty expression as she cowered behind her hand.

"How's your wrist?" Rotating her hand in lazy circles until she playfully flipped him her middle finger.

"Great," she said, giggling. "Working just fine."

I see the most important functions are operational again.

"How's Pakkun?"

"Pakkun?" Kakashi asked, surprised. "Yeah, he's fine."

"And your ...clone?"

That dick?

"Yeah, fine " Kakashi mumbled, as an awkward silence filled the air.

"You should come back to mine," Anko said, with an little, enticing pout. "Come get your sweater - it's just cluttering up my apartment." Of course her familiar brand of sweetness chased by a sting.

In truth, he didn't get two shits about the sweater but, if she hadn't washed it?

"Tempting."

Home - an empty fridge, some dead house plants and a pile of junk mail.

A trigger much? Not a good call, Hatake.

Reaching for another excuse, Kakashi found that he had stopped when she put an arm round him, burying her face into his flak jacket.

"How long were you at the bar?"

"Dunno," she slurred. "Midday? Why - what's the time now?"

Kakashi sighed, looking longingly at the direction of his apartment.

"6 o'clock Anko," Kakashi said, resolutely ignoring his instincts. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

After standing at her door, watching fumble for the lock he gently eased the keys from her hand to let them in. Opposite the entrance was her bedroom, the door ajar, he averted his gaze.

Try and exercise some self-control.

Shrugging off her bag, Anko had left it where it had fallen just outside her bedroom.

You've got her home, you can just go.

Anko turned and crooked a finger, beckoning him to follow with a mischievous smile. And as if she was also privy to this raging internal monologue:

"Don't be a dick, you're here now," she reasoned. "At least stay for a drink and get your sweater."

So he took a deep breath then sat on the couch as she bustled about in the kitchen area. There was only a counter top that separated the two rooms. She had slung the sweater over her shoulder, like a waiter with a dish cloth, the sake cradled in the crook of her arm, glasses in the other hand. Anko slumped on the sofa beside him curling her feet up underneath her before she tossed the sweater at him.

She's washed it... damn.

As discreetly as possible, he took a sniff disguising it in a cursory look around the room at her books and scrolls...

"You like reading then?"

"Observant Anbu," she cackled.

Ouch.

Hooking a finger into the mask he pulled it down enough to take a sip of sake, mouth unencumbered.

"So did you mean it?"

"Did I mean what?"

"Helping me if I needed it," she said it quietly, but a sly smile played on her lips.

What was she up to?

"Yes, I did - do mean it." Anko was uncurling her legs, slinking closer now. Shifting in his seat, he took another look round the apartment.

"Have you lured me here to help you with a DIY project or something?"

She nodded.

"Or something."

Anko was fast, invading his personal space with her fragrance, his hands skimmed her body measuring those dimensions that he had committed to memory as she straddled him. Soft lips crushed his, desperately and he couldn't help himself, as their tongues met he had grabbed her ass and pulled her down hard on to the beginnings of a hard-on.

What the hell are you doing Hatake?

Breaking the kiss felt like emerging from a pool of water.

"Kakashi, let's just bone already." Anko dipped her head to meet his, but put a hand out and slowly he stood up, forcing her off.

"Anko you don't want to do this. You're drunk"

"Am I?"

Kakashi laughed at his own idiocy. Of course she wasn't drunk. It was Anko -amateur dramatics extraordinaire.

"Come on Kakashi," voice now soft and seductive. "Dealer's choice?"

Was she just talking directly to his dick because little Kakashi had already decided. Kakashi had to close his eyes, against all the possibilities that surged after those words.

And then so clearly, the face of the blonde followed by the brunette. The one he should have had the sense to write off. She had pursued him so hard, and it had escalated so quickly ending in tears, as she cried herself to sleep.

"There's something wrong with you...

You're sick and I hate you."

Kakashi had been his worst self, and God the shame and self-loathing he felt anew whenever their paths crossed.

Anko - I can't.

"It's not a good idea Anko."

"Why not?"

"Because of what we do."

"You don't want to shit where you eat - is that it?"

Oh God - that dirty, vulgar, impossibly sexy mouth.

"What about Tiger?"

"What about Tiger?" She echoed, and he heard for the first time that night an edge of steel.

"Well, you tell me," he muttered. "Was that just the mission? You were pretty convincing. I thought you were gay."

It came out all judgmental and accusatory and not how he intended. Anko raised her eyebrows.

"Are you gay Kakashi?" she asked, crossing her arms as she appraised him.

"No, listen... Anko," beginning slowly, as he deployed another tact.

"Look, I really like you but I just don't think of you in that way. I'm sorry."

That had attracted a shriek. Anko was laughing hard but it wasn't her usual laugh filled with magic and music, as spite needled him, cutting like nicks from a razor blade.

"Really Kakashi? You don't think of me in that way?" She was shaking her head, absolutely incredulous.

"So the club...you were just being friendly ?"

He was exposed, Kakashi burned at her words, feeling sick with shame. Anko then spread her legs wider before she pumped her fist from groin, stroking a huge imaginary cock. Kakashi would have laughed if it hadn't been so unfunny then.

"Is that how much you don't think of me in that way?"

Of course she hadn't been asleep.

Closing the distance between them, she placed her hand on his cock. And little Kakashi stirred to life at her touch, betraying him without thought or apology.

Cheers pal.

"So... that's how much you don't think of me in that way." Anko took her hand away, and with it the loss of all those possibilities.

"Fine," she said, as she turned from him, draining her cup. "Say no, but don't lie to me and don't lie to yourself."

Taking his cup, she downed it and picked up the sake bottle, without looking at him.

"For a genius shinobi, you're a real fucking idiot do you know that."

"-Anko, I-"

"Just piss off Kakashi and take your sweater."

Turning on her heel, she walked out of her sitting room, into her bedroom. She had obviously slammed the door but the bag she had jammed in the doorway had swung back from the force.

Like a kid in the midst of a tantrum, she had thrown herself on the bed and buried her face in her pillow.

Leave Hatake

At the door, his hand on the handle closing it behind him when he felt the full force of her frustration and disappointment and anger.

Dff!

Dff!

Dff!

Dff!

Dff!

Anko had unleashed a volley of shuriken after him. He looked at the one where his hand had been seconds ago. It had sunk deep into the wood. Real, molten anger boiled up from his core, at that moment he hated Kohoha, the self-effacing will of fire and the strain of the bondage he suffered- that they all suffered. Kakashi stepped back through the doorway and slammed the door, and wrenched the shuriken from the frame.

Fuck it.