Characters featured (by no ranking whatsoever): Sabaku no Gaara, Hyuuga Hinata, Jiraiya, Yuuhi Kurenai, Temari, Kankurou, Inuzuka Kiba, Uzumaki Naruto, Akimichi Chouji

A/N: Man, I know its been too long. I apologise for making the readers of Rollercoaster wait because, yes, this is the second version of Rollercoaster re-named Arm Candy. I thought about it long and hard and I really, really hope that I'm compensating for the long, long wait with this.

I won't keep you stuck at the top of this page much longer, because the first chapter or Arm Candy is pretty lengthy. (By the way, Gaara might seem a little OOC here. He talks a little bit more, but nevertheless, I hope he's still the familiar Gaara we all know) :) And do pardon me if you spot any mistakes. (I hope not!) Updates will be a little slow. Thanks for your understanding. ;D

Warning: Please read this story at your own discretion, and heed the rating of this fic. I took the liberty to stretch some truths about the NRL and their players so please forgive me if you're a huge fan and you spot mistakes or errors about the sport in this fic. I fully respect the sport and profession, and I do not mean to insult/offend anyone with my inaccuracy.

Disclaimer: Naruto and all characters are created by Masashi Kishimoto. All cities located in Suna in this story are fictional. All non-Naruto characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Arm Candy

Do you take sugar?
One lump or two?

Take a bottle, take a bottle
Shake it up, shake it up
Break the bubble
Break it up, break it up

Pour some sugar on me
Oh, in the name of love

- Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard

1.

Highwynne City, Suna

The gaggle of reporters, photographers and cameramen had been loitering on the steps of the Sand Hawks headquarters since 7.45am that morning, waiting and watching.

For whoever it was, it would be worth the wait.

Honed by years and years of experience to know that if they wanted a worthy quote or two from a man splat in the middle of a scandal, they would have to wait till his arrival.

Reporters fiddled with their pens and flipped through notebooks while photographers adjusted their cameras and inspected the devices. Several conversed to their crew in low tones, glancing every now and then at the entrance to the carpark, adjacent to the headquarters. On the lower left corner of the white building was the logo of the Sand Hawks rugby team, a symbol of a handsome gold hawk clutching a black football within its steely talons.

The relative quietness of the morning was shattered by the low, throaty purr of an engine - all of them turned simultaneously to watch as a jet black Ducati motorbike veered into the carpark. Its owner slid the bike neatly into an appropriate parking lot, killed the engine and proceeded to remove his helmet calmly.

The group promptly stirred to life: A flash of dog-eared notebooks and pens poised against paper, the small whirring sound of telephoto lenses zooming and one or two video cameras were hoisted hastily onto shoulders. Recorders clicked as its owners scurried to the biker, ready to record anything juicy and news worthy their target might have to say.

"Sabaku! What do you have to say to Miraimi's allegations?"

"Is it true that you are the father of her unborn child?"

"Did Miraimi issue an invitation for you to join the Mile High Club while working at Air Kumo?"

Steely jade eyes flicked from his helmet to the reporter who had shouted that last question - Sabaku Gaara noted that he was buried behind a photographer and muscled away by a beefy camera man. The reporter gulped a little, but nevertheless, thrust his recorder forward boldly. Taking one last look at his Ducati, he ignored the gaggle of reporters and their tirade of questions designed to trigger an answer out of him before making his way to the entrance of his rugby team.

Shoving the zip of his leather jacket down, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as his fingers curled unconsciously into his palms. A hot burst of anger flooded through his system, the exact same one since he'd received a call from Seiji Jiraiya, the primary team owner of the Sand Hawks.

He knew who Miraimi Yui was and remembered the night when he'd rejected her - the persistent blond air hostess/groupie who'd tried to get him into her bed after his match against the Iron Jets of Iwa, promising him comfort and a saucy night three months ago. Gaara had rejected her simply because he wasn't in the mood (they'd lost 16-9) and regulations dictated that they should not have a woman in their room during season time when playing in foreign countries. Gaara took his matches with an intense seriousness that belied his attitude - that meant absolutely no fines, no violating of bans, no being kicked out, no mucking around and losing his focus during tours.

He'd turned down her inviting offer straight out. That, had obviously angered Miraimi Yui.

Ever since he started playing rugby professionally for slightly more than a decade, he knew of several groupies who'd taken revenge after having rugby players reject them: by sleeping with their teammates or opponents in order to mock their previous targets.

But, the redhead thought bitterly as he stepped past the glass sliding doors, entering the comfort of the cool air conditioned lobby of the Hawks and leaving behind the little media circus, he certainly hadn't expected her to get revenge by accusing him of impregnating her.

Godammit, she was using an unborn child to wrestle money out of him.

And he absolutely loathed that scheming little idea of hers.

No child should have been used that way.

A bitter taste arose in his mouth, and he punched the button next to the elevators. Even the kindly middle aged receptionist in the lobby, Bunko, had sent him a dark look or two when he'd entered.

Great. Just great.

Miraimi had certainly put him at a disadvantage with the fact that she was a blond. Gaara wasn't embarrass to admit that he had been widely known for dating blonds and only blonds before this scandal: lingerie models, actresses, and other assorted arm candies of his had always been blond. He heard rumours that he'd raised the ire of brunettes out there, and that some of the players were using this to mock him behind his back, but that was none of his concern.

He knew what he was doing and that was it.

Now that a blond had stepped forward to accuse him of fathering her child, he was pretty sure ninety percent of the readers might just believe her.

He needed - wanted - to do something about it, and he would see that Miraimi Yui withdraw her statement. Either that, or find out who had been having sex with her the past few months and bring them to light.

Gaara cursed.

Light footsteps drew his thoughts away from his current predicament to a petite, bespectacled dark haired woman with snow-white eyes, minimal make-up and hair neatly swept into a fashionable bun.

His memory shifted eagerly, but he all he could remember was a blur of faces. He'd probably met her in the halls of the Hawks headquarters before, and as usual, hadn't taken much notice. She was well-dressed: a sleeveless beige blouse with gold buttons tucked neatly into a pair of black office pants and heels adorned her feet. A nondescript black handbag was pushed out of the way by her elbow as she dugged in her document bag for an item.

The redhead had crossed paths with much more attractive women than his new elevator buddy, but he wasn't about to complain, although he thought she looked a little geeky...and well, cute. Definitely not his type, though.

The woman momentarily released her document bag to brush her bangs out of her white eyes, a small breath escaping her pink lips as she gazed into space, as though trying to recall where she had placed her misisng item. Suddenly, sensing someone looking at her, she turned to look at him. Her eyes met his and a blush promptly arose on her cheeks. She averted her gaze and resumed her search.

A light ding signalled the arrival of the elevator, its doors sliding open smoothly. He hung back and allowed her to enter first, before proceeding. The redhead turned to the row of buttons and realised that she was headed for the same floor as him - the 8th.

Before the doors could slide close-

"Wait! Hinata!"

The white eyed woman looked up, pushing up her glasses curiously as Gaara jabbed at the buttons quickly to allow the newcomer entrance to the lift. Irritation nudged at his consciousness - he wanted to get to Jiraiya fast, and although he dreaded seeing the PR team, he knew he had to deal with them, with a scandal like this.

Not that it was his first time though. A smirk graced his lips.

A woman with auburn-brown hair rushed into the lift and barely threw a glance in his general direction.

"Thanks," She gasped without looking at Gaara. The redhead didn't bother to reply, nor ask her what floor she was heading to. He'd assumed that since she hadn't said a word about it and that she was apparently friends with that dark haired woman - what was it? Hinata? - all three of them were probably heading for the eighth floor.

"Morning Kasumi." Hinata said, her voice lowering.

Gaara didn't mean to eavesdrop, but since they were in the same elevator and there was obviously space constraint, he would hear everything that the duo uttered. He had a niggling sense that Hinata was acutely aware of his ability to hear their not-so-subdued conversation between her and that woman called Kasumi. The way she stood and held herself seemed to imply that she was uncomfortable about the entire situation. The latter, however, was obviously unaware of Hinata's subtle body hints and unashamed to broadcast her lift conversation nor spare an effort to lower her volume.

"There was a little column in today's paper saying that a member of the Sand Hawks was actually accused of fathering a child. Can you believe it? I wonder who it is?Did you read the papers today, Hinata?"

"Well y-yes," Hinata answered in a tone that might have been close to a whisper.

Staring straight ahead at the elevator doors, Gaara could feel Hinata's eyes lingering on him.

God. It was either Kasumi had just been hired by some idiot to work for the Sand Hawks, or she really did not have the slightest clue as to who the team players were or what they looked like.

If what Kasumi said was true - then she obviously did not recognise him at all.

Which definitely proved to be a very interesting situation for Ms Hinata and him.

"Do you know who it is?"

"I... can't say anything at this moment, Kasu-"

"Oh my god! You're in the PR team doing damage control for him?"

"Uh..yes, but not just-"

"What's going on anyway? I could meet you for lunch today y'know." Kasumi's voice turned sly and suggestive.

"I can't." Hinata said more firmly this time. "I can't and I... don't want to leak details nor speculate behind their backs."

"Pfft." The redhead imagined Kasumi was waving her hand. "You're always so goody, goody and uptight about this and that. A little info wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Gaara had a sudden urge to put his hands around Kasumi's neck and strangle her. He found himself siding Hinata, and he silently applauded her for her professionalism and steadfastness. She might have sounded shy and timid, but there was something in her voice which led him to suspect that Hinata wasn't easily swayed by such...moronic people despite their persistence, and she stucked smart to the rules of her profession, which was no doubt, PR then.

Again, not that he'd particularly like that department much.

Kasumi's little slip also meant that Hinata would be helping him with his scandal, and chances were, they would probably be heading for the same meeting room Jiraiya had requested him to be present.

"You never know." Hinata said gently and firmly. "Its too risky."

"Aw-"

There was another ding. Gaara didn't move - he held the door open for Hinata who glanced at him, her white eyes expectant, posing a question in those snowy depths: Aren't you coming along?

He inclined his head slightly and stepped out of the lift. Before the doors closed however, he turned casually to Kasumi and gazed into those brown eyes, which widened considerably.

Gaara pressed the elevator button tightly and ignored the little group of people waiting to enter the lift, trying not to look as though they were particularly interested in what he had to say.

"Ms Kasumi," He drawled. "If you wish to know, I'm the one embroiled in the sex scandal you read today. I'd suggest you not pester Ms..."

He gazed at Hinata, who was frozen in her place upon hearing what he'd said.

"H-Hyuuga." She swallowed, a blush flooding her cheeks.

"I'd suggest that you not pester Ms Hyuuga for more details. Maybe you'd like to switch on your TV and watch this evening's news or buy more of those tabloid magazines people like you have a penchant for reading during your spare time. Or you could just fire your questions at me, if you really really want to know about Miraimi Yui."

Kasumi's mouth opened and her face turned a splotchy combination of red and purple. Gaara released the button and strode toward Hinata as the other office workers stared at them. Cool pieces of jade flicked to the crowd, meeting their gazes boldly. Shaken from their stupor, a few hurried into the lift and muttered amongst themselves, some hiding a smile or two behind their hands.

Gaara arched an eyebrow at Hinata's wide eyed gaze. He brushed past her, but not before jerking his head to the row of meeting rooms allocated on the left side of the eighth floor.

"Coming along, Ms Hyuuga?"

"Y-yes." She stuttered and proceeded to walk with him. "Um...Thank you. For- for that."

"I was merely defending my honor." He said casually, stucking his thumbs into his jeans pockets, aware of the inconscipicuous gazes of curious office workers. "Its not every day that I get a woman accusing me of fathering her child." His voice had a hard edged tone to it.

"Its a difficult time." Hinata said, nodding, straightening her shoulders."Its a pleasure meeting you." She stucked her hand out in an unelegant way he hadn't expected as they walked, her torso turning a little to him, eyes meeting his shyly for a split second.

"Likewise." He took it and was treated to a soft, small palm with a firm grip that he too, hadn't expected. Hell, she had a much stronger handshake than some of the guys he knew.

And that warm, soft hand of hers...

His mind flew, imagining her fair skin against the dark of his chest, moving down slowly-

Shit. Where had that come from?

He was getting aroused just because of a bloody handshake, one from Ms Hyuuga no less.

Jiraiya would no doubt have a field trip with that one.

Disgusted, Gaara fought down a scowl and lengthened his strides.

XXXXX

Well.

It wasn't even nine, and she'd been through a morning that was definitely more exciting than her entire twenty-nine years of mornings put together. And she owed it all to one hunky rugby player.

Glancing surreptitiously at the tall, muscular frame that was Sabaku Gaara, she couldn't help but admire the way his worn, black leather jacket fit snugly across his broad shoulders, and the nondescript white t-shirt underneath his jacket, hinting subtly at a no doubt well trained and toned body.

Truly, it had to be a sin to look that good in such casual attire and to be so confident, especially since he was mostly surrounded by people who were dressed in office wear.

It was also of little surprise to her that he'd been named one of NRL's sexiest rugby players, and why plenty of women, particularly blondes (since he had a penchant for them) often flocked to him like bees would to honey.

That meant she was out, of course.

The moment she realised what she had actually thought, Hinata grew disgusted with herself. Out? She certainly wasn't harbouring feelings for him, and neither did she wished that he would have been attracted to her! God, even if she were blond, she wouldn't have had a chance at all.

Hinata didn't kid herself - she knew what she looked liked and neither was she sending herself into a downward spiral of despair just because she wasn't blond. A man had to love her for who she was and that was it.

She also most certainly did not have a silly little crush on him.

Is that right? A little voice asked snidely. Just last week, you were gazing at the poster of him down at the Hawk's hall of fame.

Hinata shoved it back into the darkest recesses of her mind. She was simply... admiring his looks. Just like one would a painting or an fine piece of art.

Nothing, however, on the redhead's features or physique implied anything about him being as elegant as a fine piece of art. He was too...raw to be considered elegant. Even the word handsome seemed pretty and soft for a man like him.

Those sharp, blunt cheekbones, hard angular jaw and harsh slashings making up his face spoke of something deep, primal and... animal-like. Rugged.

Goosebumps rose on her arms.

His crimson hair was worn short and tousled, as though he didn't give a hoot about whether his hair looked particularly charming that day or if it showed the effects of a particular conditioning shampoo.

And that tattoo. Hinata couldn't imagine how that crimson tattoo so famously associated with his name, not look foolish and gimmicky on him. On any other man, it would have appeared silly and stupid, but the kanji looked as though it belonged there, on the left corner of his forehead. The tattoo melded with his entire features perfectly. It didn't look odd on him, and in fact, it felt as though it was a part of him.

The redhead wore it like a soldier would his battle scars, reminding him of... something. She had a gut feeling it wasn't just for show.

Had he been jilted? Was it concerning his family?

Answers she would probably never know.

Neither could he have been called beautiful. That, like the word handsome, was too soft and pretty for him. There was something intensely attractive about Gaara, purely male, masculine and magnetic. The sort of man whom any prim and proper lady would have loved to spend a wanton night with, indulging in her own personal desires.

Hinata's face burned and promptly shoved aside the images it offered her. That last sentence certainly sounded like something out of a historical romance novel. Jeez! She was daydreaming at eight in the morning!

Nice one, Hinata.

Now, the Hyuuga had never advocated judging people based on looks, and she was experienced enough to know that she didn't have much in common with good-looking people. Neither did they particularly wish to align themselves with her most of the time. Throughout her life, those with looks had proved to her repeatedly that they were usually self centred and were condescending, to sum it up nicely. To be fair, there were several exceptions, as a few names came to mind.

It was a reminder to her that she still did not know much about Gaara at all. Neither could she judge him for the scandal yet - the Hyuuga expected to be tasked with reading up on publicity for Gaara, past and present. She vaguely remembered taking a peek at his folder before, and noted that he'd been engaged in a brawl once, but wasn't convicted of anything serious. If she remembered correctly, he'd been cleared.

Hinata's eyes strayed to his well worn jeans and scruffy black sneakers - they didn't look new, although she thought she glimpsed a branded label on the back pocket of his jeans once. Not that she'd been staring at his butt, much.

He looked as though didn't give a damn if people caught him wearing a garbage sack or an expensive pair of branded jeans. Unwittingly, an odd sort of pride for him wiggled its way into her at the thought - it was people like that who'd dared to defy normal stereotypes that earned her respect. However, that hypothesis of hers could very well have been her own imagination.

Hinata had always been prone to envisioning the best of people even before she knew them well. That sometimes served to her disadvantage and she had to be forced to face reality after awhile. Her father and her cousin called that 'softhearted', but to Hinata it was all about giving a chance to someone. Not judging someone too quickly before knowing their personality.

But if her instincts proved true, she'd glimpsed a little bit of his personality back there. He'd been bold and open - not the typical behaviour of someone who was hiding something, or had done something ghastly - like fathering a child and shirking responsibility.

The Hyuuga almost bumped into Gaara's back when he stopped suddenly, and realised that they'd arrived at the meeting room. Hinata stepped aside from him neatly and mentally cleared her mind of irrelevant things, like how tall he was and how nice his side profile looked-

"Morning!" A voice boomed as Gaara opened the oak door.

Hinata almost jumped.

She recognised that deep, lazy drawl of the primary owner of the Sand Hawks - Seji Jiraiya - without having to see who was it that had spoken. Standing behind Gaara sufficiently blocked out whatever view she had of the room, and it wasn't until the redhead moved in did she manage to see the occupants of the meeting room.

Jiraiya sat at the head of the oval shaped, conference table, looking relaxed. Hinata was surprised - she expected a tensed and angry rather than relaxed and cheerful boss. Then again, Jiraiya always had an easy going demeanour, a very down to earth attitude and he seldom, if not rarely, blew his top. He was the only person Hinata had come across as being able to crack a pervertic joke or make comments of a similar nature that veered more towards humourous than lewd.

How he did it, she supposed that was his own secret.

As always, the team owner's long, bushy white hair was tied at the base of his neck, and his red crimson tattoos running down his cheeks were creased as a result of his smile. Beside him, Yuuhi Kurenai, the head of the small PR team that the Sand Hawks had had in their management, was seated beside him. Her crimson eyes were slightly tense, but the moment she saw Hinata, a welcoming smile broke her austere expression.

"Morning." She said to Jiraiya and Kurenai, while Gaara mimicked her. She glanced at her wristwatch, noted the time, and breathed a sigh of relief. They were early a minute or two.

Hinata took a seat beside Kurenai. The latter was wearing a beautiful red maternity dress, a round bulge beneath the smooth material that would soon grow in the coming months.

Before Hinata could open her mouth and mutter an apology to Kurenai, Jiraiya raised an eyebrow and leaned forward conspiratorially, as though he was uttering the biggest secret he'd ever gotten his hands on.

"So..." He said, looking from Gaara to Hinata, before returning his gaze to Hinata. "Did Gaara give you a lift on his bike?"

Hinata turned scarlet. She felt her neck, and then her cheeks, heating up.

"U-h no..."

Kurenai actually rolled her eyes like a teenager would at a teacher, while Gaara merely leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

"For god's sake, Jiraiya." She berated, looking exasperated. "And you had to ask that as your first question. We are facing a scandal here that's going to plague the Sand Hawks, and you ask if Gaara actually drove Hinata here?"

Jiraiya held up his hands, palms facing them in mock surrender. "Ok, ok," He said hurriedly, probably afraid that he would majorly piss off a pregnant Kurenai and somehow break her water bag in the process. "I'm sorry, alright?"

A sigh escaped Kurenai's crimson lips. "Apology accepted. We're still missing two main members under my charge. I think we should just proceed."

"Good idea." The redhead, who had taken a seat opposite Hinata, said curtly.

Nodding, Jiraiya turned to Gaara. "Did the reps hound you when you arrived?"

"Yeah." Gaara said. "The usual questions - did I or did I not have sex with her, is the child mine and... if we had sex in the plane."

"Kinky." Jiraiya commented. Kurenai shot him a dirty look and Hinata merely looked down at her folder.

"I didn't." Gaara retorted, glaring at his boss. "That's my answer to all three questions, but I didn't bother replying them."

Kurenai nodded approvingly as she opened her file.

"I did a scan of the articles this morning - they're all in here. But before that - Jiraiya, you know that this isn't going to be good for the Sand Hawks Junior Programme we just launched a few months ago. There's bound to be worry amongst ah, particularly concerned parents."

"I know that." The white haired man said thoughtfully. "Hang on a sec."

He turned to Gaara.

"When did she proposition you or vice versa?"

Hinata diligently took down the details, her hand flying across a notebook she'd brought along with her.

"She propositioned me." He snapped. "Three months ago. Can't remember which day. But it was during our tour in Iwa. The match against the Iron Jets."

"Ahh."

"Where did she proposition you?"

Gaara's gaze switched from Jiraiya's gaze to hers. Passive jade eyes stared at her coolly. Perhaps a little too coolly.

"In the hotel. Rock Eye Hotel. The rest of the guys were drinking in the bar because there wasn't a drinking ban going on."

Jiraiya nodded, urging him to continue.

"I went up to my hotel room alone because of a minor injury, and she propositioned me at the elevators. There wasn't anyone else there, if I remember correctly. I rejected her quite a few times - she was pretty persistent. She got a little pissed and left and that was it."

"Did any of your teammates see her leaving the hotel?" Hinata asked.

He thought for a moment, forehead creasing.

"I don't think they remember. They should have seen her if she left by the main entrance."

"So you didn't have sex with her?" Jiraiya's black eyes bore into his.

"No." He said. "I can tell you confidently that the baby isn't mine."

"Great." Jiraiya clasped his hands and turned to Kurenai. "I believe him." He said solemnly.

Kurenai merely stared at him, her crimson eyes sizing him up.

"You don't believe me." He said pointedly, leaning forward slightly, a growl escaping his throat and frustration gnawing at his stomach. His relationship with the PR team in Sand Hawks could be described as less than perfect; so had his past experiences with several PR personnel.

What he'd like about the Sand Hawks management was the fact that they didn't place much emphasis on PR - it was a pretty well known fact that the sport itself utilised PR to a minimal extent and thus, the ratio of PR personnel to employees were quite dismal. Most of the time, they had little to do with the team players itself. Lately Gaara had to admit that several players had been going out of control - alcohol, women and drugs were the most common factors, amongst others.

"What about your notoriety for dating blonds?" She asked.

"That works to my disadvantage." Gaara said, his jade eyes meeting hers. "And I'm well aware of it, Ms Yuuhi. There's no way I can prove to you that I did not sleep with her, but those who know me well should understand that I don't lie, especially where unborn children are concerned." His jade eyes brushed her tummy. "I think you would understand how it feels, if you know that you've got a child somewhere out there that's yours. Do you think I would really sit here and twiddle my thumbs if I was really responsible?" He asked quietly, jade eyes steadfast and strong.

Kurenai's hand went to her belly.

"You might not believe me, but like I said, I did not sleep with her. Not even once." Gaara murmured.

Hinata glanced at her boss carefully - Kurenai's crimson eyes were soft and she was gazing at Gaara solemnly. A rare smile curved her lips.

"If you can understand how it feels for a mother, then I trust Jiraiya's judgment. You are very steadfast, and I needed to hear that to be fully persuaded. Aside from that, Miraimi's a groupie as well as a high school dropout. I think I would have trusted her more if her personality wasn't that... shady."

At that moment the door to the meeting room opened and two sheepish looking women entered. One was blond and the other a brunette. They were dressed immaculately, much more fashionably than Hinata, but that incident at the lift had sealed Gaara's impression of her and sadly, the other two were nowhere near her level.

They apologised and resumed their seats beside Hinata, looking curious.

Gaara saw Kurenai's lips pursing, and knew at once what Kurenai thought of them. The redhead felt their gazes, and stared them down.

Jiraiya proceeded on.

"Its possible that the Junior programme will be affected because of the scandal." He tapped his chin. "Although it might not be as drastic as it seems."

Kurenai nodded. "Yep. We have a current generation that's giving us lots of trouble lately - brawling, sex scandals, verified or not, alcohol problems and what have yous. Its dragging the name of the sport in the mud, and kids under our programme are going to think that that's the right way to do it when one of them has been given a place in the Sand Hawks, even when none of our players have been engaging in foolish activities-"

"Let's not even talk about the Sand Hawks - any team for that matter. The general consensus amongst the spectators and critics are that rugby's name has been sullied thoroughly by men with the brains of 16-year-olds. Parents won't be encouraged to send their kids for our Junior programme. And the sport doesn't deserve this image." Jiraiya pointed out.

"Exactly. We need to do something." Kurenai picked up her pen.

"The question is, what?" Jiraiya looked at all of them. "Its not the media that's entirely responsible for painting this particular image and injecting ideas into people. Rugby players are projecting that image, and the media's picking it up. That's what journalists are supposed to do - report the facts to the people, although some of them do engage in yellow journalism. Case in point - you, as their sports celeb."

Gaara didn't flinch from the team owner's unusually serious gaze.

"The Sand Hawks has been alright though." Hinata spoke up hesitantly. "So far, none of our players, with the exception of Gaara, has been accused of such things. All along, our team has a pretty good public image-"

"Unless you counted the one where Gaara got into a brawl." Kurenai cut in. "One year back."

"That was justified." Gaara's fist clenched. "I wasn't convicted of anything."

"Indeed." Kurenai shot back. "But it's already put a dent in your image."

"I don't give a damn about image," Gaara said, heatedly.

"You have to stop thinking of yourself as a one man show." Jiraiya said quietly. "We're a team. You represent all of us, and vice versa."

The clock on the wall ticked by slowly as momentary silence descended upon the group.

"So we'll 'polish' his- I mean our, image, through Gaara." Kurenai said afterawhile.

"How?" The white haired man arched an eyebrow and leaned forward.

"We-"

"I'm not sure if I like the sound of that." Gaara said warily. "I don't go for the 'polish your image to a shine' shit."

"Gaara," Jiraiya admonished.

"Apologies." He said curtly. "Why put up a show just for the sake of camera lenses and reporters and people who have an obsessive amount of interest in people's lives? They can shoot and write whatever they want because my conscience is clear. And I'm more than aware of my responsibilities as an athlete and public figure. I was gonna mention a press release or a press conference, and that's that. The people can take it or leave it."

"I understand what you're trying to say." Kurenai pointed her pen at Gaara, but gazed at Jiraiya instead. "We will make sure we get that message across. That press release is one of the things we're going to do."

"One of the things?" The redhead's forehead creased.

"You like to date blonds don't you?" Kurenai said, casually.

Gaara thought he saw the blond PR member sitting up straighter.

He shrugged, and tried to temper his growing anger. God, he was getting furious at a pregnant lady! Yuuhi Kurenai sure didn't behave like one though. He had to admit, albeit rather grudgingly, that he liked how she was - direct and frank with him.

"Well for a change, you could start dating a brunette. Or a dark haired lady."

The other PR member mimicked her blond companion.

Hinata was staring down at her notes, arranging them, not quite meeting his gaze.

"And what good would that be?"

"I'm coming to that." Kurenai took a sip of water. She placed the cup down. "You'll pretend that you're starting to settle down. You know, start thinking of life seriously, having a family, etc. Ok, well maybe not that far. Perhaps just a serious girlfriend."

Jiraiya chortled. "Can't see that on m'boy, Kurenai."

She ignored him.

"They might see it as a publicity stunt." It was Hinata. She fiddled with her pen. "It might trigger people to think that he has something to hide when in fact, he doesn't."

"It could go down that way." Kurenai agreed. "But what we're trying to project is a steady, responsible image for Gaara."

"I thought the press release itself was great enough." Gaara said. "Ms Yuuhi," He said politely. "I don't need a publicity stunt."

Kurenai glowered at him, and the two latecomers watched them with rapt attention.

"Well," Hinata started again, hesitantly. "I think Gaara should continue uh...d-dating blonds. You know, to show that he's done nothing wrong. Meanwhile, we should also find out whose baby is it that Miraimi's carrying and subtly bring it to light."

That, Gaara had to admit, was a little good and well justified, but risky too.

"Hmm.." Kurenai drummed her fingers on the table. "I like-"

"Aha!" Jiraiya shouted. It was Gaara's turn to roll his eyes.

"What?" Kurenai grumbled in an uncharacteristic manner.

"He will continue to date blonds, and then bam! He meets this brunette and he decides to date her. And then, we'll reveal it as the fact that she was his childhood friend, and she'll go onto say how confident she is of him, blah blah, blah." He snapped his fingers. "Then, we find out whose the real father of the baby, bring it to the reps, and off goes your girlfriend."

"That's lousy. No publicity stunts." Gaara growled. "And I mean it."

"Let's just scrap the entire idea." Kurenai said lethargically. "We're not plotmakers of a novel. I agree with Gaara - let's just go ahead with the press release, find out why Miraimi sabotaged him-"

"She's jealous." Jiraiya threw in. "Or probably crazy. We have to find out more though."

"Ok, that -"

"And find out whose baby she's carrying." Gaara finished.

"Done." Jiraiya said, sitting back, lacing his fingers together over his abdomen.

"Not quite." Kurenai said primly. "I need Gaara to tell us what he might want to say in his press release. Hinata will you take-"

She broke off suddenly and gazed at Hinata before looking in the middle of the table, her mind working furiously.

"My god." Jiraiya said after a second or two, his eyes growing wide. "Did her waterbag break?"

Everone glanced down at Kurenai's legs, with the exception of Gaara.

Hinata, Kurenai realised. Hinata was the perfect choice. If Hinata could pose as Gaara's current girlfriend, then it would be a double bonus - her role could fend off the accusations (although its effectiveness might not be that strong) and she could advise Gaara along the way if Gaara wanted justice done by swinging his fists, or if crazy groupies wanted to accuse him of rape. Hinata was steadfast and reliable as a granite rock. Kurenai had been particularly impressed with her abilities, perceptiveness and flexibility, and she was sure the Hyuuga could deliver. She was incredibly organised and task focused - there was no way she could fail on this. Unlike the other two members, she was carefully indifferent to gossip and personal matters, often providing creative and careful thought through ideas to her. Plus, Hinata would report to her directly.

She grinned at Jiraiya.

"Uh, okay." The latter said warily. "Care to tell us what's on your mind?"

Hinata looked at her, concerned, while Gaara's jade eyes narrowed suspiciously.

And so she told them.

Hinata blushed, but said nothing. She looked thoughtful.

"Hm..." Jiraiya scractched his chin. "That's pretty good. We'll have someone to help you out along the way." He nodded at Gaara.

"A word with you." Gaara stared at him. "Outside."

"But-" Kurenai started, looking disappointed.

"Just a minute." Gaara said, his jade eyes not unkind, merely firm. "We'll be back."

The two men closed the door behind them, and Jiraiya motioned for Gaara to join him in the adjacent meeting room which was fortunately, empty.

"Okay, what is it?" Jiraiya's gaze turned serious, his humourous attitude dissipating fast.

"I told you - I don't do publicity stunts." Gaara bit out, jade eyes hard and cold.

Jiraiya jammed his hands into his sports jacket and wandered over to the window that bordered the wall.

"You know...Eighty percent of those kids under the Sand Hawks Junior programme are the ones who might become the Hawks' very own rugby players. They're underprivileged, and they were once like you."

Gaara didn't answer him.

Jiraiya had said they were similar to him, but he knew very well where their differences lay.

He'd gone through the criterion for the Junior programme when Jiraiya needed the players' survey on it. It aimed to encourage underprivileged kids with a strong passion for rugby. Most of them had financial woes and broken families, but unlike him, none were noted to be conceived illegitimately, and none suffered the knowledge of being an unwanted son throughout his entire childhood.

They, unlike him, didn't have to tolerate visits from snobby, well dressed people who warned them not to say a word about his mother being a certain businessman's mistress, and that following which, he would covertly provide for his illegitimate son and mistress without anyone's knowledge so as not to ruin the happy family image he'd had. Gaara later learnt to put a name to these people who earned their income this way and thus, the name PR left a pretty bitter taste in his mouth. It was unfair, he knew, to classify everyone working in PR as such. Case in point, Ms Hyuuga Hinata.

But just as someone would say being a professional athlete wasn't the most useful job in the world compared to a doctor, he still harbored a grudge he couldn't rid himself of, against people who merely wanted to put on a show, to keep superficial surfaces nice and shiny. He couldn't see the meaning in it.

"What Ms Yuuhi was trying to say awhile ago is that this little scandal of yours represents something far greater that's plaguing rugby and we know it. Its rugby itself that's being affected from all these bullshit." Jiraiya turned to gaze at him solemnly.

"Its the whole damn thing. The reputation, the image, whoever's associated with it, in it, who's playing it. Grown men who think they've got a right to muck around just because they play rugby are ruining the entire aim of the game. When I played rugby professionally, the people in charge didn't tolerate all this BS. We were scared as hell of our team manager and coach. But look at this generation now - remember last year's sex assault scandal regarding the Rock Lazers? Yeah, well for the sake of the kids who will most probably inherit a sport that carries a lewd and barbaric image and supposedly gives them a right to live dangerously, do what Ms Yuuhi says. Incredible as her schemes may be, it is only temporary. Its for a period of time until this issue dies down." The white haired man clasped a strong hand on his shoulder as he approached him, eyes warm and trusting. "You never know, because this little effort of yours can actually create a huge effect on a child's mind. Plenty of kids worship you, Gaara. Boys tune in every night when there's a match to watch you and your teammates. You can 'protect' them, do you know that?" Jiraiya signalled the apostrophes.

A grin broke out on his face, suddenly making Jiraiya look younger than his 54 years.

"As cheesy as it may be, show these kids that you play because of the sport itself, you play because when you slam yourself against someone else, when you score a try, youknow you've accomplished something after practicing it for hours and hours. Show them that when you run on the field, you truly know what it takes to be a professional rugby player, who doesn't have to do stupid things like getting drunk to earn fame. But I'm thinking that won't be difficult, because I can clearly see you playing it for passion, because you love it. Not for fame nor wealth. And that's also why fame and wealth keep on chasing after you, because you don't do it with that aim in mind. God, its a little like reverse psychology. Hey do you get what I'm saying? Are you even listening?"

He clasped both Gaara's shoulders in his hands.

"Yeah. You just dumped a shitload of words into my brain." Gaara murmured.

Jiraiya, however, thought he saw the familiar, demonic gleam of steel and stubbornness in the redhead's eyes, the exact expression the fly-half had whenever he was aiming for a kick or a try, or when an opponent had scored.

And the white haired man instinctively knew at once that he himself had scored a bullseye.

"Besides, don't you think Ms Hyuuga is pretty...uh, whatdoyoucallit - cute eh? I'd rather assign her to you than the other two slackers."

Gaara tilted his head back and gazed heavenward. It was incredible how he'd had to resort to publicity stunts, something he didn't believe in, just to supposedly clean the image of the one thing in his life that had allowed him to get away from his frustration, to what had had happened years ago with his parents - rugby.

"Let's just get this over and done with."

"What?"

"You'd better tell Ms Yuuhi Kurenai this fast, or I just might eat my words."

"I did it." Jiraiya said gleefully. "I did it!"

The redhead ignored him and wrenched the door opened. When they entered the room again, everyone looked up at them expectantly.

"What-" Kurenai asked, her eyes going from Jiraiya, to Gaara.

The team owner interrupted her and grinned broadly, thumping Gaara on the back.

"He's agreed to do it!"