Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Chapter 1

Destructive Fan

The moon dominated Paris sky, its ghostly rays cutting through the darkness.

Sakura gripped the champagne glass a little bit too forcefully, risking to crack it. Her pulse quickened its pace, and she felt the blood leaving her cheeks; an untrained eye couldn't have seen the sudden anxiety which wrapped the young lady. She took another sip of her drink, and exhaled noisily, attempting to calm down. She gulped — her tongue felt bitter, and she thought there was a possibility to throw up and on her new black dress. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. The woman passed a hand through her pink locks. Her palms were sweaty. She had almost forgotten this sensation.

Sakura Haruno, the former secret agent under the codename 515, could hardly keep her eyes on the painting in front of her. She threw furtive glances to the other side of the room. She had never expected to find one of the most wanted criminals of the underworld at the ceremony held in Louvre, in the honour of Sai Yamanaka, a renowned figure these days.

What the fuck is he doing here?!

No other agent was to be seen around. She doubted there would be any since this was an exclusivist party and no one expected him, of all the people, to be here.

Sakura moved her weight from one leg to another. She felt like she needed to do something, but at the same time, she was intelligent enough to realise that engaging in a fight with Madara Uchiha led to many collateral victims. The raven-haired man moved swiftly as a feline, dominating the room without even trying. Women regarded him lustfully and men enviously. He didn't deem them worthy of his attention, focusing on the paintings only. Sakura gulped. Searching the room, she found four men in suits. They must have been with him because Sakura knew the guarding agents.

Moving slowly, she went towards the next painting. Sai was a great artist, who could capture the essence of life in his works, although he didn't seem a sensible man. Despite the beautiful painting in front of her, which consisted of an angelic woman, with a slim figure, long blonde hair and intense blue eyes — his muse — and a Siberian tiger, she couldn't focus on it. It had a peaceful atmosphere, and the tiger gazed lovingly and protective at the woman as if she was his tamer. Sakura knew that Sai identified himself with the tiger and that the beautiful woman was his wife, Ino Yamanaka.

Sakura picked her mobile phone from the cloche and started writing a message for Kakashi Hatake, her former colleague. She had to let someone know that Madara was there. It could mean anything. For all she knew, the place could've exploded in any moment. He was a troublemaker.

K,

I miss you. I'm at Louvre right now. There's one painting called Destructive Fan. Can you believe it? Come and see me, will you? Fast.

Sakura moved again, being careful not to draw the attention. She didn't even lift her head to look at what was in front of her. She wrote rapidly, trying not to divulge anything, as her messages could've been watched. It was a while since she had been out of the game, but she hadn't forgotten how it to play it.

Madara Uchiha walked calmly among the guests, sipping on his champagne. He devoured art like no one else, and Sai Yamanaka had managed to impress him, which wasn't an easy task. He wanted to buy a few painting for his collection. He was sure no one would oppose it. Who would dare to go against his wishes?

Some mindless women had approached him, and if it was another night, he might have accepted the advances of some of them, but it was not. He wasn't here for sex. To have women throwing at his feet had become boring; he craved challenges. Although he couldn't complain, the intercourse with such being was very satisfying. He wasn't a jerk and took care of their needs — sometimes —, but his came first.

He eyed a strange painting and got closer to it. He loved exotic thing. They had a pull on him. He hummed.

I should buy it. It would fit perfectly in the living room.

He caught something pink moving out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly. A small woman, dressed in a dress which made her legs long infinitely long and wearing some of the highest hills he's seen, was moving sensually towards a painting not far away from him. He wasn't the only one to observe his beauty. Few heads turn to ogle at her backside, and Madara felt a growl building in his throat. He didn't like their looks. The woman didn't seem to notice the attention she was attracting. It surprised him. Women didn't move like that naturally, did they?

He noticed she eyed him from the corner of his eyes and a smug smile crossed his features. The man observed her. She returned his attention t him several times. A less trained eye wouldn't have realised, but he was Madara Uchiha — the name spoke for himself. He waited patiently for her to come to him; it was obvious she was interested. She seemed somewhat familiar, though he couldn't place her somewhere, despite his great visual memory. He walked around and caught every of her glances. Eventually, sick waiting, he decided to act. He wasn't particularly attracted to shy girls, but the fact that she didn't approach him was bothering.

She watched her using her phone it was the time to take her by surprise.

The woman was about to press send when the smell of cologne twisted her senses. She saw expensive shoes and her hand shivered when a silky costume brushed her upper arm.

"A brave painting, isn't it?"

The smooth and grave voice made her heart stop. She had not kept her attention on his only for a few seconds. He couldn't be…

She turned her head and met onyx eyes, shining while studying her face. Such was her surprise that the phone slipped through her fingers. The sound made heads turn, and she felt his men's eyes on her, boring into her skull. The woman coughed ashamed, cursing her clumsiness, and wanted to pick it up; however, Madara was faster than her. She snatched the phone from his hands with an unladylike gesture. He said nothing, but a smirk was playing at his lips. If she hadn't been anxious that a criminal was staying in front of her, then maybe she would have been flustered by his presence, and she'd have understood why women ogled at him.

Madara Uchiha was a handsome man, just as a sculpture — he seemed the incarnation of art.

Well… that if art could have taken down your head and put it on a plateau.

He pointed to the painting again, and Sakura wetted her lips, not aware that his eyes glittered dangerously when she had done so. She tried to remember what he had asked her and then responded:

"It is indeed."

There were two persons, a man and a woman, in the forest at night. They seemed to be close to each other, and Sakura could guess they were lovers. She briefly wondered if Sai had made Ino pose with someone for this piece or if he had used only his imagination.

"It has a dangerous air, don't you think?"

From all the people he had to choose her to sit beside. She couldn't even send the message to Kakashi, afraid that he'd find it displeasing for his big ego, and he'd kill her. It would have been so easily to make a sign and have a bullet put through her head. She missed the weight of her gun on her thigh. She sighed mentally and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She didn't want to go back to those time. It hurt like hell. She swore not ever go out again without a garder, where she usually held a pocketknife. From all the days, she had picked this one to go unarmed.

"Hmm, not really."

In truth, she should have agreed with him, but Sakura was an art lover and couldn't hold back her opinions when it came to it.

His brow quirked, and he was looking at her with interest. She bit the inside of her cheek.

Did he recognise me? Is that why he had come to me? Oh God, what if he knows who I am?

She fought the urge to step farther away from him.

"Why is that?" the words rolled out of his tongue. He smelled like champagne and cinnamon cigarettes. And a masculine cologne. Damn, it smelled so good! She saw his eyelids narrowing, and she was suddenly aware that she was starting to lean towards him. She grunted and came back to her initial position. "Two lovers at night, in a forest, alone," his voice became a whisper.

"It's rather erotic than dangerous," she found herself whispering back, for some unknown reason.

He puffed close to her ear, and it gave her goose bumps. He was too close. Too warm. Too… much.

I can't believe I said that aloud.

She wasn't frigid or easy to embarrass. Sakura knew the power of sex and had spoken about it several times. But now, to stay so intimately close to Madara, talking about it felt different.

"Hmm, indeed. You might not be able to see it, though, but there's something predatory in his eyes and form. The way he grips her hip, how he tries to dominate her, how he makes her dark promises with his eyes…"

Is it getting hotter here?

Sakura's mouth open slightly, and she inhaled deeply. In another conjuncture and with someone else, she wouldn't have found this conversation inappropriate.

He put one of his hands on her back, and she stiffened.

Oh. How dare you think I don't see all of it?

She embraced the newfound fury. Playing with fire was risky, and now she was only Sakura Haruno, normal woman in her mid thirty's, admiring art and working in an office, drinking wine with friends on Friday's night and dancing in lingerie when no one saw her, but she had been 515, brilliant agent, a deadly weapon who could take down dozens of men without breaking a sweat. She wouldn't be intimidated by Madara Uchiha.

"I think she knows. She's pushing him, and one of her legs is back as if she's trying to decide whether to fight or flight." Saying it, she shrugged and made a small step in front, forcing him to retract his hand.

She sent her message to Kakashi, hoping Madara didn't notice her movement. Criminals had a tendency to be paranoiac.

"You're so wrong."

"Oh, yeah?" She sent daggers with her eyes.

"Do you see how her hand grips his blouse. She wants to pull him closer. I guess this painting reflects the idea that we all crave danger, whether to inflict or to play with it."

He didn't touch her again, but his warm breath on her ear shell made her want to push him away — or closer? She understood what he was saying, and she thought he was right, but she wasn't about to let him win this argument.

"Perhaps, he should be wary. She might play the innocent, but be as dangerous as him," she muttered, and it sounded threatening even to her ears. He laughed lowly.

"Perhaps. Maybe he likes to play with danger, too."

She wondered if they were still talking about the painting.

"Or maybe he's not afraid, knowing what he can do. What if he's intrigued?"

"I'd rather think of him as reckless."

His phone vibrated. He didn't answer it. Sakura couldn't wait to see Kakashi. Where was he?

"You're merciless," he joked. "Adrenaline is a powerful drug, lady."

She knew it. She fucking knew it. She'd been addicted to it for a long time until…

"Man should be able to rise above addiction."

"I didn't realise I was talking to a saint."

She laughed bitterly. "I'm far from it," she confessed. "What about you?" The question left her lips involuntarily. She didn't need an answer.

What am I doing here, making conversation with a criminal?!

"It's a secret. Maybe I'll let you know one day." Her grip on the glass tightened. "But I think you can already guess. You seem tense, are you alright?" His voice was a parody of concern. His phone vibrated once more. He rejected the call. "Ask me nicely, and I might tell you now." He touched her shoulder.

"I'm not so curious, thank you."

He seemed disappointed. "I wouldn't have taken you for a coward. Afraid you cannot face the truth?"

"I'm not the one to beg."

He exhaled loudly. He would've liked to make her beg, to have her stripped of her control.

"I belong to darkness, lady. Even the most stubborn people beg me," it sounded like a warning. "Excuse me if I somehow offended you." It took her aback. She hadn't expected something akin to an apology.

He turned her face to him, drawing circles on her alabaster skin. He didn't understand why he had done it, but he seemed unable to keep his hand off her. He liked how she pressed herself in his touch for more. He wanted to give her more, to receive her more. In spite of her…

The movement was hypnotic, and Sakura soon felt under the spell of his touch and eyes. He was breathtaking.

"By the way, lady. No one has called me Destructive Fan in a long time."

He winked at her and made his exit. Her heart stopped. He had seen the message. He had known she was no ordinary woman and he had played with her. It ignited a fire in her. But why did he let her live, then? It was known that Madara was ruthless and destroyed the ones who went against his plan. At the moment, Sakura had sure done so by calling him off.

She touched the place where his finger caressed her skin. She drank the champagne with one gulp and called Kakashi. He responded immediately.

"K? The painting I told you about disappeared. Yes, I am fine. There's no need for you to come and take me." He knew to read her emotions. "Okay, if you insist. Thank you and sorry if I woke you up." She put the glass on a plateau and walked away from the painting she and Madara had discussed about. "That's sweet of you to say. See you soon, K."