He'd been gone for five years.

Five years was a very long time.

Tsunade watched the man she had mourned until she thought she'd die from it, sit on the other side of the desk and talk about what had happened. Her whiskey eyes focused on the pinned sleeve, evidence of what he'd lost.

Jiraiya in the deep rumbling voice, hoarser now than it had been, spoke of lands outside the Allied ones, places where ninjas and chakra were the stuff of stories. Shards of the inhibitor rods in him, no way to mold chakra without an arm, he'd been stuck and slowly healed far away until finally, he'd been able to get his himself a boat and a crew to sail home.

Tsunade sat, fingers steepled and simply absorbed the shock of him being alive and in front of her. She wanted to jump the desk between them and throw her arms around him. She wanted to touch and stroke and make sure he was real, but she was scared, scared this was all a mirage of an overworked mind and she'd, he'd be gone in an instant just like he was in her dreams.

Jiraiya looked at her as he sipped tea with his remaining hand. She looked sad, tired even. He'd dreamed of coming home and seeing her and holding her in his arms, well arm now. Was that it? Surely not, they were children of war and a missing limb wasn't an oddity. Why wouldn't she reach out to him? Why wouldn't she say his name and that she was glad to see him back?

Please, his mind whispered before words came audibly. "Hime, I won our bet. Don't you think I've waited long enough for our date?"

She startled nearly spilling her tea across the desk. Of course fool, just ask and I'm yours. "You need to let me look at you and do a physical. It's been nearly a week since you came home, I can tell you are in pain. Let me heal you, and I'll go out to dinner with you tonight."

He sighed. He had purposely dodged the hospital. His body was riddled with evidence of how close he had come to death. To have her see it, to show her how he failed her, failed the village was nearly more than the white headed Sannin could take.

He knew her though. She'd never let him leave the office, if he refused. One arm, a dozen arms weren't enough to dissuade her when she got her mind fixated on a course of action. One finger, long boned and tanned rubbed his hair line as he attempted to throw her off. "I didn't know you wanted to get your hands on me that bad Hime. You should have spoken up; I would have stripped for you the day I came back."

"Fool," was her response, full of irritability. Tsunade knew, of course she knew that he was attempting to cover up his unease. How many times had they played this game? Heeled steps followed by his swaying ones, the sounds of a body still not used to the loss of an arm walked to the hospital and the first empty room they came to.

Her arms crossed and an eyebrow rose. "You said you'd strip for me Jiraiya. Do it now so I can see how badly you've hurt yourself."

Dark eyes focused on her whiskey ones, he sighed and turned his back unable to stand the expression she was sure to have. Haltingly, a hand pulled up the kimono to and slid it off his broad shoulders. There had been no need or even way to wear the normal under armor he had before the fight. Jiraiya, legendary Sannin of the Leaf, was a Shinobi no more. Bare save for the cloth tired to the end of his arm, the Toad Sage stiffened when a manicured hand touched above missing flesh.

"I'm sorry Hime. I meant to stay whole for you, and I simply… I failed you."

Her brow furrowed. He was alive. It was all that mattered to her. Tsunade couldn't, refused not reach out and touch and know for sure that he was here breathing and in front of her, but his words, his self loathing words wounded. Hands that touched dropped and she stepped away angrily.

"You're an idiot. You think scars bother me. You think losing your damn arm is going to drive me away. Does unblemished skin mean that much to you."

Tsunade jerked her obi knot loose and dropped it to the ground before shrugging off her gambler's jacket and kimono top. She didn't cover her bare chest, didn't make an attempt to cover the scars that riddled her abdomen and the line from where she was bisected. Instead she stalked in front of him and grabbed his hand to put it to the raised flesh.

"Should I be sorry as well? Did I fail you Jira?"

His eyes focused, how could they not, on her chest, before it processed that his finger wasn't touching soft supple skin, but instead the smooth almost slick surface of a scar. Knees popped as he squatted down and traced his finger over each raised line. Just how close she had come to dying while he was in a foreign land?

"Hime…"

Jiraiya slowly, knowing she was likely to kill him for it pressed his face against the softness of her stomach. "And you call me a fool. Precious woman, like I would ever think less of you for having battle scars. Don't be naïve."

Tsunade rested her hand on his head and ruffled his hair. "You're an idiot Jiraiya and a fool as well. I'll do the physical and you can take me out to dinner. You won the bet after all."