Please excuse the delayed update. I've been very ill. Shout out to Plasticroses79 for beta-ing this chapter for me. I'm in no condition to stare at my laptop screen for prolonged periods so it was nice to have an extra pair of eyes while editing. Thank you so much :)

OoOo

"Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another."

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Tenten awoke to a room filled with the mellow, soft shadows of a fading dawn. The heat of the day was emerging along with the sun. For now it was a mild, balmy warmth that was gentle on her skin. She lay cocooned in a relaxation of mind and body, just watching the sky turn lighter outside the window, the accompaniment of quiet traffic, soothing.

She could get used to waking up like this. The thought was there before she had time to deflect it, and it brought her abruptly from the bed.

At almost the same moment she heard Sasuke's car engine purr to life and drove off. Her heart fluttered and raced, and she made a sound of annoyance in her throat at her weakness.

She was grateful he was a busy man and was never around in the daytime.

It gave her precious respite time—without which, she knew, she would have cracked.

How many days had passed since she'd been staying here? She was losing count. It was coming up to a week, it must be. Or was it longer? She had tried not to count, tried not to think. Itachi would've said something by now if she had overstayed. But given that he instructed her to station herself in Sasuke's bed rather than a hotel—for reconnaissance purposes—she figured he had given her a grace period to complete the main mission.

The intelligence she gathered from snooping around during the days proved useful.

Sasuke didn't strike her as a careless person but oddly enough none of his computers were security protected. Even if they were, it would've been child's play to hack them, Tenten gloated. Deidara taught her well. However, Sasuke's negligence disconcerted her. It seemed almost deliberate, like he wanted anyone who went digging to find exactly what they were looking for. It didn't make any sense.

Twice, she was able to tip Itachi off about Orochimaru's movements so that necessary actions were taken by the Akatsuki to neutralize the threat. Oto lost several members during those encounters. Why would he make information like that so accessible when he knew that in the wrong hands it could prove lethal?

Then again, his house was heavily guarded. His arrogance might've led him to believe that no one could get pass his security in the first place. If Tenten were to be completely honest that was probably true. Orochimaru was near paranoid when it came to Sasuke's physical security. There was an armed man positioned in every nook and cranny of his massive yard. Suspicious bodies were ran through facial recognition by the guards at the gate.

Everything was so high-tech and formal. In fact, in order for her to have actually been allowed into the party Tenten had to pose as the date of one of the old geezers who was invited. That in itself was a piece of cake. All she had to do was promise some old, sexually deprived fool that she'd make it worthwhile if he made her his plus one and bingo—she was in.

She didn't quite catch his name. Not that it mattered when she would have no further use for him. He came with high security clearance which automatically exempted her from being searched and screened before being permitted inside.

Itachi must've also known about his brother's near impenetrable security. That was probably why he had her go undercover as the woman under Sasuke's covers. While there was no merit in it, being a mistress did have it's privileges. She could come and go as she liked—not that she left at all. Itachi thought it would raise more suspicion if she kept leaving and returning.

Yawning, Tenten reached beneath her pillow for the pistol that never left her side. Small, discreet, deadly and cold to the touch. Yet after a few seconds with her hand around it, the metal was ambient, feeling more like a part of her than a tool of death.

Her hands weren't quite as steady as they usually were when she lifted the gun and took a blank shot at an imaginary Sasuke making his way through the door.

She ignored the jolt her heart gave at the mental image of him with a bullet hole in his forehead. Fuck him, she inwardly growled. Her aim was a little rusty and she could use something to practice on. She had a reputation to maintain and that reputation guaranteed not only the satisfaction that came with a successful mission, but also Itachi.

She was ready.

I can do this, Tenten told herself, carefully laying the pistol beneath the mattress.

Sasuke hadn't been in the least bit interested in anything besides her nightly company, and that was good—it was. Romantic complications she could do without. He had only enquired what she did for a living and she went with secretary. Those were efficient enough. That was the type of killer she was.

Efficient.

But in actuality, instead of dispatching invoices and emails she dispatched people to whatever came in the afterlife. Sasuke didn't have to know that.

Ever since that mission three years ago when she had had to pose as the secretary of a social parasite, Danzō Shimura, it became her default response. His death hadn't been satisfying enough so she slaughtered all his subordinates in cold blood after tossing the old man off the roof of his twenty story office downtown, Konoha.

Konan had given her props for the consistency. Because believe it or not, she had told Tenten, consistency didn't hurt the credibility of one's forged professional when undercover. Lie until that life becomes your life. Her fake life of course.

Tenten was in the bathroom when she heard the sound of a motor bike outside followed by a ding she learned three days ago indicated that the newspaper had arrived.

She went on cleaning her teeth vigorously, washing the taste of Sasuke away. Slanting eyes fixed on her reflection. Smoky brown eyes looked back at her, deep set, with long dark lashes, her lips seemed lusher somehow. Her cheeks rosier.

She stared at herself.

She looked—

For lack of a better word.

—enamored.

It stole into her mind, shocking her. She tried to push it away, but it was no use. She went on staring.

And as she stared at herself she started to feel a tremor, deep inside her, as if something were stirring, had just awoken.

She pulled back. It was ridiculous.

This feeling that gripped her—her mind balked at the word 'love'—would diminish once she completed her mission.

Sex did not equate to love. And she sure as hell didn't love Sasuke. If anything she loved the sex. Nothing was wrong with that.

Every night spent in his arms was a night closer to getting into his brother's. It was Itachi whom she desired. So why—why did she want this to go on a little longer. Why did she want more? Why was her body a single living flame, one that burnt fiercer with each passing night?

Night after night she burnt like a flame in Sasuke's arms.

He had become like kerosene to her. Fuel that had got into her bloodstream and which she was now utterly, completely dependent on.

It was like poison. It was desire.

Abject, helpless desire.

Every evening when Sasuke returned from running his father's business into the ground as Itachi had deemed it, Tenten felt her heart gave a leap. She tried to crush it, but it would not be crushed. Her breath would quicken in her lungs and she would feel a rush of pleasure—of anticipation.

But with Sasuke and her, it was just sex, she told herself every time he was with her. He couldn't keep his hands off her but, to be honest, she couldn't keep her hands off him either and the awareness that they had such a short time together had simply pushed the intensity to a whole new level.

He was with her every minute he was at home. Sometimes he took her to his bed immediately. He would walk up to her, take her hand and coolly usher her up the stairs. Her mission wasn't the only thing that kept her from protesting as she went with him.

They bickered daily, being both very strong-willed people. It was usually over something ridiculous, he didn't like that she wore her socks or her hair in twin buns in bed. Aside from that they didn't talk much. When they did though, conversation flowed easily. She knew he liked her. She made sure that he did. But aside from the wild bouts of sex that took place every time they got within touching distance, that was the height of it, she told herself staunchly.

And yet it had been a revelation—never had she understood how raw, how powerful, desire could be. Itachi might've taken her to a place she had never been but Sasuke had taken her to a place she had not known existed at all.

It was a place of passion and ecstasy, of wanting and needing, of sating and slaking, of giving and receiving—of mutuality. Reciprocation.

There was no peace in that place. Not during the day, when her restless body waited impatiently for Sasuke's return. No peace. Not even whilst he was around either. She still went to him then. Went to him and let him take her in a white, hot rush of desire.

There was no such thing as peace. There was only a driving hunger that was a desperate need for what only he had been able to give her. She knew only the brief, strange peace that came after, when their bodies lay spent and exhausted in each other's arms.

Like they were lovers.

But they weren't lovers. She knew that. Knew it deep within her soul. There was nothing between them. Neither knowledge nor intimacy. They were enemies. The hunter and the hunted. Day after day. Night after night.

Nothing but a predator and its prey.

A dull, crushing heaviness filled her as she rinsed her mouth and tied the belt of her wrap more tightly. After she retrieved the newspaper she went straight to the kitchen, yawning. She was up earlier than usual because she had been able to get an early night for once, surprisingly. Uchiha Sasuke might be a brat but sexually, he was high maintenance.

Last night however, after the first round he drifted off into a haunted slumber. All throughout the night he fought in his sleep. He twisted and turned, perspired and whimpered as if in the grips of some terrible nightmare. It was when he muttered Itachi's name that Tenten questioned the cause of the apparent bad blood between the brothers.

Opening the refrigerator, she took out a box of milk, poured some into a glass, switched off the percolator which was hitting its glass dome excitedly, slid a slice of bread into the toaster and sat down. Exactly how long had she been here? Her movements were beginning to feel like ritual deliberation.

She did this every morning since she arrived. Back home with Itachi, Tenten rarely woke up to such normalcy, if she did sleep at home at all.

They were constantly on the go because someone was always pissing Pein off. As members of the Akatsuki, it was their duty to wipe that person—whoever it was—out of existence. The beauty of it, she supposed, was in the spontaneity and the fact that they got to chose their own methods of execution.

But she really could get used to waking up like this. She could get used to routine. This routine. That earlier thought from nowhere came back again.

And even as it formed a terrible heaviness came in its wake.

When she was finished here—finished toying with Sasuke—what would she do?

Tenten had thought she would simply move on to the next mission. Had thought nothing else.

But now, with punishing clarity, she knew that something had changed. She could go back to her life as an Akatsuki but she could never go back to her life as a woman. As Tenten.

A shudder went through her, as if something unclean had touched her skin. Disgust flushed through her like acid—bitter, bitter self-disgust. Why should Itachi, or anyone for that matter, want her after this?

Suddenly that dream seemed a million miles away. In another universe.

She would never reach it. A prickling wash of tears burned below her lids and a flood of anguished grief gripped her for what wasn't to be. Suddenly, with a violence that shook her, Tenten hated everything about herself—her body, her personality, her inhibitions. How stupid she must've been to not see that if Itachi was capable of loving her the way she wanted then, he wouldn't have asked her to do something this demeaning.

She was trying not to think too much about Sasuke either. After all she would kill him and the affair would be over. That was not going to break her heart, she told herself firmly, but the hand in which she held her cup of milk trembled.

Hastily she set the cup down again. If she gave way to stupid feelings, started fancying that she was in love and all that nonsense she would be digging her own descent into despair by the time it ended. And no one else was allowed to have that much power over her. Itachi was enough.

Just as Sasuke didn't do relationships—the topic had popped up once while they were sex-wasted out of their minds—Tenten didn't do love.

Admittedly she was attached to him in some ways, she acknowledged grudgingly. He had invited her out to dinner with Orochimaru and his Oto cronies once, something she had not expected, having assumed he would be as keen as her to keep their involvement with each other under wraps.

She had told Sasuke she had nothing to wear but it was just an excuse to hide the fact that she didn't want Itachi to think she had lost sight of her objective. It was much wiser to stay under the radar, she reflected ruefully, having no desire to attract controversy within the camp or witness Pein's outrage. The mission had after all been kicked into gear without his approval.

He would not take kindly to Tenten potentially ruining her cover and exposing her connection to the Akatsuki. Sasuke was a guarded asset of Oto; no doubt Orochimaru's henchmen would eventually be pulling background information on her to ensure she wasn't an enemy spy.

It was only a matter of time.

Tenten brushed the thought aside. There were only a few hours of the affair to go and she was trying to handle the upcoming prospect of Sasuke's murder with logic and restraint rather than with the obsessive depth and despondency she felt. No, not that. It would shatter her composure.

Murder.

The word clanged in her head like a stone.

A bitter mockery filled her. Dear God. Mere days ago, when Itachi had assigned her this mission she had felt relief so profound it could've lifted her off the ground. It had been awhile since she exercised her trigger finger. And by awhile she meant three weeks—since her last kill. That was equivalent of three months in the book of an Akatsuki. She was thrilled when Itachi presented her with the opportunity to spill blood and end the drought.

But now—now it tolled like a funeral bell. Filling her with dread. And there was an ache in her body that she could not extinguish. It was anguish and it filled her being.

Did Itachi really feel that strongly about his family's reputation to want Sasuke dead for getting their father's company mixed up with Orochimaru? If tainting the Uchiha name was what he was concerned about then he was a little late. Madara and Obito were names people were afraid to let slip off their tongues for obvious reasons.

Itachi wasn't exactly innocent either, so ordering a hit on his kid brother for such a reason did seem kind of petty.

Taking a sip of her milk, she casually flipped open the front page of the newspaper and glanced at it. As she took in the main headline her hand began to shake. The glass fell to the floor, shattering, sending a stream of milk seeping over her fluffy blue slippers.

"What?" she whispered huskily, shaking her head in an automatic, unconscious gesture of rejection. "That can't be right."

Feverishly she skimmed the story, her lips trembling as she read. It was the anniversary of the Uchiha Massacre. Though there were four known members of the family alive it still went on to list Sasuke as the lone survivor of that night—

Tenten frowned.

—because the next three were the masterminds behind the heinous crime.

There were small photographs of the three, but it was on the second picture that her eyes were riveted.

The colour had slowly drained from her face until she was as white as the wrapper she wore. Her toast popped up unheeded. Milk soaked the blue fur slippers.

Her lips were parted, murmuring a name.

When her burner phone rang she jumped violently, brushing a hand across her eyes. Her fingers came away wet. For a moment she sat quite still, taking a deep breath and then very slowly she picked it up.

"Agent Panda," her voice sounded rusty, as thought she had forgotten how to speak.

"It's Crow. Have you seen Oto's main newspaper yet?" Itachi's voice was hurried and anxious. "The Sound, it's called."

"Yes," she said dully.

There was a pause. "I know what you must be thinking," the accusation came sharply.

"I don't know what to think," Tenten said flatly. She really didn't. The cause of Sasuke's nightmares was becoming crystal clear now. "Is it true?"

A part of her wanted to believe Itachi must've had very good reasons for slaughtering his entire family. He was after all, Itachi. He didn't do things on impulse. Something of this nature shouldn't have come as a surprise, given her line of work. Killing criminals was one thing. But turning the mouth of one's gun on family was another.

"This must be quite a shock to you," he said uncomfortably.

"Yes," The admission was made huskily.

Fear swirled in paralyzing waves, fraying her courage, attacking her innermost soul, shaking her with a cyclone of devastating doubts. What did she actually know about Itachi? He'd chosen to take her under his wing at twelve years old. That was it. Fresh out of the boat from Konoha, she hadn't a clue what her future held when Itachi took over her life and gave it the purpose she'd wanted.

But now she felt hopelessly lost. She can't remember having ever doubted or feared him before, until now.

"I'm en route to Otogakure now. Meet me at Hotel Cobra at twenty one hours—"

21:00 hrs

"—with Sasuke's corpse. I'll explain everything then," there was a dangerous edge to his voice. A warning. A dark throb.

Her hand tightened around the cell phone. Before she had to chance to protest Itachi ended the call.

"What do I do?" Tenten whispered to herself, thrown into helpless confusion.

"Think fast." A voice came from the doorway.

Suddenly something pink spiraled through the air in her direction. She caught whatever it was without sparing it a glance. Instead she flicked a nervous glance to see Sasuke leaning against the archway with his arms folded across his chest.

"How long have you been there?" she felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her body. Had he overheard her conversation? She seemed to hang in some sort of suspended animation, her gaze fixed on him. "I thought you went to office," panic breaking through.

He moved away from the door and strolled over to the breakfast table. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Annoying sales people," she heard her voice growing shrill and poured herself another glass of milk to loosen her throat. "They just won't take no for an answer."

He draped his jacket on the back of the chair, undid his tie, slid it out from under his collar and dropped it over the jacket, each action performed with calm deliberation. There was no obvious evidence of barely repressed volcanic anger, yet the sense of electric vibrations that could connect at any moment hummed through the room.

"You can drop the act, you know," Sasuke drawled vehemently.

Her stomach cramped into knots. "The act?"

He gave her a wry look, recovered a pistol from his back, and aimed it at her head. "I know why you're here. Let's not drag this out."

She heard the words, but for one dissociated moment she did not understand what they meant. Then their meaning hit her with a sickening blow. Oh, God, he knew.

A painful flush clung to her skin. "I'm afraid I'm not following."

Sasuke laughed mirthlessly. "It was nice of Itachi to loan me his whore for a week."

Tenten's jaw dropped. Sickness drenched through her.

His words fell like beads of acid on her brain, burning through the initial shock of them and forcing her to seek some mitigation from their painful impact. "That's not what I am," she sputtered.

"Oh, I'm well aware that's not all that you are, Agent Panda," he ground out. "Had you been just a street woman hired for that specific purpose, killing you wouldn't have been half as satisfying."

Horror galvanized her. All along he knew what was going on. He knew but chose to use her as a convenient, handy, fast-food snack to stave off nightly starvation. She had eyed him up but he was the one who had made the move. He had sex with her, took his fill, slept it off—and now the pretence was stripping off.

She felt sick. Reeling. This wasn't the same Sasuke she had gone to bed with. This one was even more of a stranger.

He cocked the gun, pointed it right between her eyes. "I didn't know Itachi was this sentimental, making you wait until the anniversary of my parent's death to kill me." His voice was controlled. Very controlled when he spoke again, "I don't share his sentimentality but I suppose I could indulge him a little."

She stared at him wide-eyed. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're going to go to Hotel Cobra and do exactly what he sent you here to do to me," his voice was hard, terse, savage, reflecting the expression on his face. "He obviously trusts you so it shouldn't be too much of a challenge to seduce him into a false sense of security and then go in for the kill."

Summoning every ounce of calm, she asked, "What makes you think I'd do such a thing?"

In annoyance, he had aimed his weapon at a vase behind her and discharged it.

Tenten jolted.

"I wouldn't cross me if I were you," Sasuke cautioned grimly. His ebony gaze left her face and swept slowly down to the length of her body, then back up again.

A shiver feathered its way down her spine, and she had to enforce control against it becoming visible.

"You could end up like that woman in your hands," he drawled icily, indicating to the trail of red liquid on the floor.

The colour swirled in her mind, making her feel light while curiosity aroused in her mind. Her huge, brown eyes followed the line, almost forcefully, like it had a mind of its own some would say. It was when she felt liquid warmth trickling down her leg that tiny tremors shot through her.

Tenten fastened her eyes on her hands and her expressive features whitening with shock.

She was reeling, punch-drunk. Her mind had gone numb, completely numb. All she could feel was the horror ballooning inside.

There in her hands was the head of a woman with a mob of pink hair, stained and discoloured by blood. Her face was bruised and covered with great blotches—the once lively skin now, dull and gray.

Her green eyes were wide opened and staring off into space but her mouth was frozen on a gape—a soundless scream. The flesh was still warm, the blood thickening but not yet dried on her waxy skin. She smelled like a recently slaughtered animal. Her esophagus and arteries stuck out like corrugated rubber tubings. They tickled Tenten's palm. Dark scarlet fluid ran down her arms until they looked like those abattoir worker.

"What the fuck?" The words exploded from her lips as she dropped the decapitated head.

It rolled towards him and he kicked it like an enthused soccer striker.

Ruthless fucker, no wonder Itachi wanted him dead.

"Perhaps I went a little overboard because I didn't like her," Sasuke confided pitilessly. "Your exceptional expertise made you tolerable enough," his eyes washed over her suddenly, and the expression in them made her gorge rise.

The silence that followed almost made her scream, then with cruel deliberation he closed the distance between them and kissed her—a single hard kiss that brought tears to her eyes, and she tasted blood where he had heartlessly sunk his teeth into the inner tissue.

"But I hate Itachi more than I love the company of a woman." Then his eyes narrowed fractionally, cutting like a scalpel into her. "I'll grant you one last chance though—to be with him before you have to kill him."

Her nails clenched into her palms, digging painfully.

"That way you'll scream the right name in bed for a change," his voice was hard.

As hard as stone.

Tenten swallowed.

Oops.

A/N: I know I said "Four Parts" in the beginning but after I revised my original fourth chapter, I realized that it didn't quite fill in the blanks. I had to make some changes. So, there shall be a fifth chapter to conclude and clear things up. Unfortunately my initial buzz for this shit is wearing off. Sigh. Don't be surprised if I put off updating in a week's time. I'm afraid I was a little too excited to post this story lol. Anyway, thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.

Thanks to those of you who have read, reviewed, followed or fav'ed this ;)