The Golden Ghost
Last

.

"What are you doing here?" Stood within the skeleton of the village, the skeleton of their dream, Madara gapes, not unlike his friend turned rival turned friend, at the figure before them.

The Golden Ghost is stood with a thick scroll tied to her waist, so that it rests in the shallow curve of her back, her bright blue eyes blinking slowly before she offers a light grin.

"I'm here to join your village."

She has clearly faced no dire hardship since he last saw her two and a half years ago, willingly pinned down by the Uzumaki. For a moment, he considers how Uzumaki Mito, now Senju Mito, is going to react to the woman being here.

A thick red scarf is wrapped around her neck and shoulders, and she looks just a little bit strange with her head of blonde hair poking up from its fluffy walls. A dull white cloak covers her body, offering it a buffer from the winter chill, as the slightest droplets of snow come to settle within her hair, on the tip of her tanned nose.

She doesn't look like the legend that has been saving lives across the Elemental Nations. She just looks like another young woman, with bright blonde hair and equally vibrant blue eyes, only made brighter by her tanned skin.

The strange, whisker like scars draw attention to the sharp angle of her jawline, though half is hidden by her scarf. It doesn't quite cover the smile that's almost timid, certainly hopeful, as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes.

Madara folds his arms, looking sternly over at Hashirama, even though he already knows how this little talk will end.

There's no way that Hashirama won't let the woman join their village. She was the one that pushed him to talking to Madara again, he'd confided with the Uchiha one night after a hard day of building the village. That was the first and last time that Senju Hashirama had ever met the Golden Ghost, until now.

A part of Madara had been, pleased. Pleased that he was the one who had seen her to most, who had spoken to her. Who had learnt even the slightest bit of her history. An Uzumaki mother, it was no wonder her chakra was so fearsome, even without the beast sealed within her.

No doubt the Kyūbi had only bolstered her reserves.

"Yeah! That'd be great! If you hadn't spoken with me, maybe none of this would have happened."

Hashirama pauses, looking around the bare bones of their village with an undeniable fondness flickering in his eyes.

Madara remembers the scorn, the horrified whispers, when he announced to the clan that they would be joining the Senju to create a village, that there would be no more fighting.

Not even six months after Tajima's death, and he was already running the clan into the ground, so they whispered.

But none dared to openly challenge him.

Izuna had cornered him at one point, asking why. The hatred his brother held for the Senju was strong. But even he had understood when Madara spoke of his childhood dream, of the two boys that met at a river wishing for peace, for a world where children didn't have to die on bloodied battlefields.

It wasn't until three days ago, when a Uchiha boy, a toddler really, ran by with another boy, a Senju, and looked so carefree, that Izuna had really understood.

He'd seen the moment his brother had realized what he was aiming for, and ever since, Izuna has supported him.

The Golden Ghost grins, rocking back on her heels and her eyes dart slightly between the two of them, lip working back and forth between her teeth.

It was a gesture he'd seen Izuna complete a multitude of times, but he can't seem to lift his eyes from his lips, not until Hashirama elbows him in the side.

"Well? Think we can let her in?"

He's grinning, the scoundrel, and probably coming to incorrect conclusions. That's what Hashirama did, jumped in feet first, fearless of the consequences, and probably not even wondering if it was water or mud he was about to land in.

That idiot.

"Maybe the other clans will start taking this village seriously then."

It was as close to acceptance as he could voice right now.

He was no longer that blushing sixteen year old, drunk off a pitiful amount, and not quite sure what to make of the pretty blonde before him. He could admit she was pretty now, he wasn't one to lie to himself. He'd had a crush on her, lusted after her, it wasn't too much of a surprise now that he knew himself.

She was different, a strong woman stronger than any he'd ever seen before. She stood up for not only herself, but her way of life.

For peace.

She did not bend, she did not yield, and it appealed to him.

He looked down on women, considered them weak. Because when they stood beside him, they were.

But she wasn't. This woman, with her prowess on the battlefield and her iron willpower and her desire for peace, was unlike any of the females his father had been attempting to throw at him during the last few years of his life.

It shouldn't be surprising he was attracted to something so new. And she was new, the whole idea of her was new.

"So, erm, what's your name?"

Madara blinks.

Come to think of it, he's never actually known her name. She's never introduced herself, her name has never been carried on the whisper of rumours. He's heard her call the demon fox she claims a friend 'Kurama', but he had never heard her speak her own name.

The blonde smiles sheepishly, rubbing nervously at the back of her head and glances between the two of them.

"Heh, sorry about that. Namikaze Naruto, at your service."

Namikaze Naruto. He's never heard of a 'Namikaze' clan before, but her name is fitting.

Maelstrom. A powerful circular current of water that was usually the result of conflicting tides. A whirlpool of extraordinary power.

She had been born into a world were two sides were constantly conflicted. And she'd become strong from it. Had become a force to be reckoned with.

"Nice to meet you Naruto-chan!"

Hashirama chirps from beside him, clapping Madara on the shoulder with enough force he almost stumbled.

Damn that man for being the tallest of two of them. He really shouldn't have been, he had no idea how to handle that much height, Madara had seen him walk into the sign a Senju blacksmith had just put up outside his new shop only yesterday.

The idiot.

"I'm sure Madara can show you to a tent- er, we haven't quite gotten all the buildings up yet."

Naruto shrugs, still smiling as her eyes turn towards him.

"Sure, s'not like I haven't been living in a tent for the past six years."

Turning on heel so he didn't have to look at the woman's face any longer, Madara takes off down the street in a series of lengthy strides, only offering Hashirama's parting goodbye a slow wave with one gloved hand.

He can feel the tightly pack bundle of chakra that is Namikaze Naruto walking near him, not quite beside him but not quite behind either.

And he thinks maybe, just maybe, he'll get through this one meeting without any surprises.

.

That lasts up until they pass by the light scattering of buildings which are a tentatively planned clan district.

Because suddenly two small hands grasp his wrist and forcibly twirl him around at a speed that he can barely react too. Nevertheless, he had a kunai in hand by the time his back meets the wall.

Only, lips meet his before he can even consider attacking the woman.

Both of her hands are grasping at his face, short fingernails only digging into the skin of his cheeks ever so slightly and her eyes are closed, he notices.

She's kissing him, kissing him like this is what she has been waiting for since appearing in the village and Madara, he just gives in.

His hands snatch at her hips, pulling her closer as he presses his lips back against hers, hungry, wanting to continue chasing the explosions of lust and excitement that burn in his chest.

And he wants it all.

He wants everything that Namikaze Naruto is willing to give and more, because she's the strangest creature he's ever seen, new and exquisite and he's starving, emotions burning something fierce in his chest, blazing bright and hot and as wild as the girl that he holds tight to.

She growls, actually growls against his lips, pressing her chest to his and her back is curving forwards under the effort.

One hand has left his face to get tangled in his hair, the other has snaked its way down his side and is now dipping beneath his thick winter shirt, cold fingertips brushing up against his abdominals and exploring the scarred flesh that covers his ribs.

Madara breaks the contact first taking in a desperately needed gasp of oxygen, before he returns Naruto's face back to his, their noses colliding in his haste and the blonde lets out a salacious chuckle at the unexpected contact.

She sucks on his lip as their teeth clash, the hand in his hair tightening as his own press her closer, one grasping at those blonde locks and tilting her head back so he has access to her neck and jaw.

"You're a bastard," she whispers, but it's a fond thing, spoken with affection he's never heard a woman use before in public. Wives were to be seen, not heard, and it wasn't right for a woman to express her affection so openly among people.

But Naruto clearly doesn't care, rocking her hips against his as he sucks on the soft flesh of her neck, right above a pulse point.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she hisses almost breathless and shockingly close to a moan.

He loves it.

"You were suppose to be awful, you were suppose to be inhuman. You weren't suppose to burn so bright," she pushes his head back and away as she says this, instead attacking his own neck in return, a huff of amused annoyance leaving her lips when his hair gets in the way.

It wasn't as if she herself didn't have just as much of the stuff.

He dares to skim a hand over the small of her back, beneath the thick fabric of her shirt now that the cloak she wears has been thrown open, but she doesn't shy away as women have always done in the past, timid and unwilling to show they lusted just as hard as men.

No, Naruto pushes into his touch for a few seconds, before she once again rocks her hips against his.

This time, it is he who growls at her, and instead of the horrified looks any other woman would give, she merely glances up at him playfully before nipping harder at his neck.

Were they left alone, left uninterrupted, Madara was pretty certain they'd never have even made it to the tents. That he'd have just taken her, then and there.

Or Naruto would have taken him.

Perhaps they'd have taken each other.

But it's not to be, because Izuna and Tobirama round the corner, talking of the academy they're going to be building, and they both just freeze.

Eyes round and mouths open, the both of them look scandalized at the sight before them.

Naruto doesn't even look the slightest bit regretful.

Instead, she looks at them over her shoulder, dares to lick the column of his neck all the way up to his jawline, and then she disappears, leaping up onto the rooftops with a wild laugh as she goes.

Madara doesn't even spare his brother and his companion a glance, he just takes off after her.

He's got a feeling that, even though they'd probably never have to have another meeting now that she was in the village to stay, he would be chasing her for all the years that they'd know one another.

And if the prize was the same every time one of them caught the other like that, well, he'd not have anything to complain about for a very, very long time.

I can't believe I got this finished so fast. I know it's short, but it was nice to just flex my writing a bit, I'm not used to writing in this tense, so it as a bit of a challenge, but it was different, and I like the way the story flows as a result.

In other news, I've got tentative plans for other FemNarutoxMadara's, have a gander below if you wish;

Saturated Sunlight
There are whispers, whispers of a rogue Uchiha and a dangerous blonde he travels with, that have been gathering strength. And each time he hears them, Madara has to grit his teeth and silently promise himself that when he finds them, he will tear them apart.
A Sasuke and FemNaruto timetravel, though I don't know who Sasuke's pairing up with. If he's pairing up with anybody.

Licking up the Flames
In which Madara ends up surviving the Fourth World War. All the Kage are prepared to deal out eternal punishment, but Naruto just can't stand by and watch another needless death. Not if she can help it.
Something without timetravel; I'm gonna take a guess and say Madara's about twenty two for his prime. I don't know. A five year age gap is nothing really, right?

Tsume
xxx