Short, sweet, and simple: A KakaSaku fiction made by yours truly. Actually, it was done by me, Nishasha B'Dobb, Queen of the Underworld, Sovereign of the Depressed, Lover of Hot Males with Six Packs and Handsome Faces, and all around funky gal.

I'm also a fool.

I realize now why everyone was calling the story bloody brilliant. Not because they chose those words out of their brains from their free will, but because I stuck them in at the bottom of the story, imploring whether the story was bloody brilliant or something else. Alas, I am struck by my own stupidity and short memory span over and over again. And then again, because I don't remember it happening in the first place.

Summary: Kakashi visits one of Konoha's dirty, downtown teen clubs in search of something he's not quite sure of. He finds Sakura and wonders just what's going on underneath the underneath. He decides to get her drunk to see if it'll make it easier to get her home. His plan backfires. Sucka.

Warning: Un-beta-ed. Vague moment of perverted-ness, but not really. Touches on peeping toms.

Rating: Mary, Mary, quite contrary. I mean M.

Disclaimer: I do believe that you all realize that I do not own Naruto.

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(Code Blue)

Chapter Three

Too Far Gone

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He was surrounded by idiots. No, strike that, he was surrounded by teenagers; in his mind, the two words were synonymous. They both talked too loud, thought they knew everything, drank more than they could handle, and were usually horny.

Kakashi knew that he currently filled out one of those conditions. He wasn't talking loudly; in fact, he wasn't talking at all. He easily mimicked the signal Sakura had used on the bartender and was using it quite often. He didn't know everything; however, he knew that he knew more than the average person. He wasn't drinking more than he could handle; he had not, to his knowledge, passed out yet. He was however, unusually horny. He shouldn't have been horny, and wouldn't have been if the redhead he had been making out with had run after him and begged him to finish their session. But, no, it appeared that the damned kid would use anyone to help with his pleasure, a fact duly noted by Kakashi as he saw the redhead and a cute, bombastic blonde continued what he had started.

And poor Kakashi was left without a partner at the bar. He could have just marched up to the redhead and pried the blonde's hand off of him, but that would have required effort and would have made it seem like he needed the redhead. He didn't need him. He was just a random make-out session, as all of his relationships turned out to be. The only relationship Kakashi could manage to keep going longer than a few months was his relationship with the many bartenders of Konoha.

He sighed and signalled for another drink. His only company as he waited for Sakura to show up was a fat bartender and several empty shot glasses.

Sakura….

She was going to show up. Right? Of course she would. He was her… well, had been her sensei at one point of time. She had to come. She was obligated by, by something. He couldn't seem to recall what exactly it was but it was there. And she was obligated and he was going to sit here at the bar and wait for her. Wait and wait and… how long had he been waiting?

He glanced at the clock and recalled for the fourth time that night that the clock wasn't working. It was stuck at midnight. Or afternoon. He wasn't sure. He swirled his drink around in the tiny glass and frowned.

What if she didn't come?

There really wasn't anything that said she had to come. There was nothing that said she would come. She didn't have any reason to come. In fact, she had every reason not to come. He was here, at her secret place. Well, it wasn't a secret anymore, but still. He was invading. Wasn't she supposed to come and fight him out? Or try to blackmail him into not telling anyone? To tell the truth, he had no idea what to do about this situation. What on earth was she doing here anyway? She had a lot of explaining to do when she showed up.

If she showed up.

He took a deep swallow of vodka and signalled for another.

She'd show up.

And she wouldn't be wearing her cute little ninja costume. She'd be wearing something different. Black pants, strappy heels, a low-cut red halter-top. In essence, the colors were all right. But the fabrics, the cuts, they were all different. They were more mature, much more mature. Less demure, more sexy.

God, he'd just described Sakura's clothes as sexy. What was wrong with him? Those were not the right words to describe his old student. She wasn't even sixteen. Or was she seventeen? It was hard to keep up with the years as they came rolling past him. His team seemed to have matured so quickly. Was that when his feelings for her had changed? When she had matured?

Was it last summer, or this summer? He didn't know. Was it when she had started her metamorphosis? Perhaps. But the changes, they were intriguing. He didn't know how it had happened, but he had found himself incredibly enthralled by them. Every new quirk in her speech patterns, in the way she held herself, in the way she moved, he catalogued them all in his mind. He wasn't sure why. He was sure that the whole metamorphosis would pass after she got tired with it. He'd followed her around, wondering when she would mess up her veneer, when she would let a part of her old self sprout out and take out her vengeful anger against Naruto.

But it never happened.

The changes she'd made seemed to be permanent. Mentally, physically, emotionally, she was different. It was harder to read her, harder to hurt her, harder to play with her mind. She was smarter, less naïve; she could read between the lines like nobody else. She was like a sedimentary rock, made up out of layers, and no matter how hard you drilled into her, you couldn't find out what she was really thinking. She was like a caked, beautiful on the outside but odd and hard on the inside. No, she was something else.

Beautiful.

Hot.

Sexy?

God, he was sick.

Teenagers, maybe they didn't have the wrong idea after all. They used drugs and alcohol and life in general to get their minds off of what was bothering them. Stuffing so much stuff into their brains that they didn't have time or room to think about what was really bothering them.

Nah, they were wrong.

He didn't usually drink away his problems; usually, he drank in honour of his problems. He wondered if he was drunk yet. Wasn't that when you were supposed to be drunk, when you asked yourself if you were drunk or not? Or was that when you wanted to be pregnant?

What the fuck, pregnant?

He had had too much to drink. He chose to ignore that fact like how he ignored everything lese that hurt him. Everything would fester, always fester, in the dark where he his secrets and crazy accusations. Obito… Rin…

No, he had to focus. Focus on Sakura. And her lithe body. Her metamorphosis (transition, change) of life – living? He wasn't making sense anymore. How upsetting.

He tried to focus on his drink, but realized that thinking about his drink made him remember how drunk he was. And that in turn would make him remember why he was drunk. And how Sakura wasn't coming back, no matter how long he waited.

But she would come back.

Was this how it felt to others when he made them wait? Probably. He had made many people wait for him. But he had his reasons. He always did.

Except with this absurd fascination he had with Sakura.

In his drunken state he allowed himself to admit that the fascination existed. If fascination was the right word. (Kakashi always thought he did his best thinking when he was drunk enough to admit things to himself that he would never even have thought about when he was sober.) But there was a reason to this, this thing; a rhyme to this puzzle and he find it… eventually. Perhaps with more sleuth-work, more spying expeditions, more surveillance.

More stalking.

He finished his drink, ordered another. He wondered if he would ever find the reason to his fascination (fixation, obsession). It was sick wasn't it? He was her teacher, or had been her teacher. Years older than she was. Much more good-looking than her. Much more everything-er than she was.

Perhaps he would never find out why or what was going on with him. Perhaps he would find out when he died.

He wondered how Obito and Rin were.

Happy, he hoped. Kami knew he spent ages at the monument just staring at their names, tracing their names with his fingertips, silently speaking to them. It was one of the few things left that had anything to do with them. He remembered the box he had been looking at before arriving at he club.

Full of trinkets, stuffed with memories, it was. And that sentence, it had been fractured… like the pair of goggles sitting in the box. There were scraps of fabric, a bloodstained lock of hair. Obito, Rin, the Fourth… countless others. No one could understand the deep significance of the seemingly meaningless blood smeared fabrics and discarded goggles. Shoelaces encased with dirt. Shiny pebbles. A few poems and love letters scrawled in girly writing complete with many flourishes.

Sakura's writing was clear and devoid of unnecessary flourishes. At least it was as of late. Before, it had been nothing but swirls, curls, and unnecessary strokes. But ever since her transformation (metamorphosis, alteration, conversion) it had been taken down to the bare essentials. The only thing that retained her curly scrawl was her signature.

Her signature was curly like her hair had been when she had gone out with Ino two days ago.

Stalker.

He ordered another drink.

No, not a stalker.

He was just… He took a sip of his drink.

Protective.

He looked at the clock.

Still midnight.

Still noon.

Still waiting.

Still alone.

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Sakura swaggered around the club, not even the slightest bit tipsy. Nearly everyone else had gone; the club was almost empty. Waving at her friends (and also tipping them off about a drug bust at Two Penny Opera the next day) she made her way to the bar, to say goodnight to the bartender.

The music clicked off as she walked across the dance floor, away from the exit; the silence was deafening. The first time the music had turned off, she had thought she'd gone deaf. Until she heard her friends screaming at her to hurry up and check out someone's brand new car.

Her shoes clicked and clacked as she crossed the floor. She liked the noises her shoes made. They were sandals, really. Very cute ones. Her friends had given them to her as a birthday gift. Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi had been on a mission on her birthday and hadn't gotten her anything. (Though Naruto had taken her out for ramen the week after the mission… but she had had to pay.) Lee-san had given her a very large bouquet of flowers though, but he had also confessed his profuse and undying love for her… again.

And although Lee-san was a sweet, young man, she just didn't want to go out with him. Sure, he was valiant, good-natured, and honest to the bone, but he was good. Like, real good. Like, honest to good-ness, I-shall-protect-you-with-my-life good.

And it scared her.

She wasn't that good. She didn't think she'd ever be as good as he was. As diligent, as focused, as noble. As happy. She wasn't like that. And she didn't think she could ever live with herself if she pretended to be that way with him. Or if she shattered his dreams by actually saying, yes Lee, I'd love to go out with you, and have him realize that she wasn't really who he thought she was.

Which is a snotty little bitch.

She walked around the bar and greeted "Yoda." The large man had a striking resemblance to the small green alien… thing. Sakura wasn't sure what the thing was, or what it pertained to, (her friends had showed her snapshots and action figures) but under the green glow of the lights, Yoda indeed looked like his namesake. None of her friends was sure what his real name was, but he answered to Yoda, so it was fine.

"Yoda, just wanted to say–" Sakura cut off mid-sentence when she noticed someone still sitting at the bar.

"Hmm?" asked Yoda, still rubbing a glass with a rag.

"Goodbye. I just wanted to say goodbye, that's all."

"Ah, well, night kid. You going to take the ninja with you?"

"Er, what?" she asked, slightly flustered. She had been sure Kakashi would have gone home. Or to her house. And staked it out.

There had been times when she was walking around with Ino when she had felt someone watching her. But on closer examination, there hadn't been anyone there. She'd thought that perhaps someone was watching her for a while when she was training with Lee, but the sensations always passed and she had put it off as paranoia.

But then there had been the odd looks she had kept getting from her team when they were all together. Naruto was the same, he always looked at her anyway, but Sasuke and Kakashi had been watching her for the past several months as well. She could always tell when Sasuke had been watching her because he would always continue to look at her for a second after she caught his gaze and then look away, sometimes blushing. She wondered again if there was something behind his glances other than curiosity, but she had decided that all it had been was him being an arrogant prick and expecting her to react differently. And then feeling unsure when she didn't react how he expected. And Kakashi, well, she had only caught him watching her a few times. Not enough to be noticeable, but because he was Kakashi, it was a noticeable number. And odd.

She wondered if her phantom watcher was Kakashi. If it were Naruto, she would have known for sure; he couldn't keep a secret for the life of him. But even if she were underestimating him, it just wouldn't make sense. She was spending more time with him than she ever had before; there was no reason for him to seek extra time with her.

And Sasuke, well, he just wouldn't bother. Oh, he'd watch her and wonder what was going on, but he wouldn't dare stoop so low as to actually ask her what was going on. He would wait and wait and continue to wait until she gave in and told him what was going on. It probably irked him badly that she hadn't told him already. She supposed that he thought she had changed because of him. But in the days and weeks before her imminent change, she had barely spoken to him. Things had gone as planned. They'd been on a mission when she had started the change.

They'd been off, far away, and she had been here, in Konoha, awaiting them diligently. But she hadn't greeted them the way she had used to. Sasuke was no longer Sasuke-kun; Kakashi was no longer answered with: "Liar!"; and Naruto was no longer punched when his answers annoyed her.

Oh, and that left Kakashi. Well, if she were thinking about people in her team. But that just didn't make sense, not anymore than anyone else stalking her though. She just couldn't think of any reason for anyone to stalk her. Kakashi might be doing it… but then again, it could have been anybody. Or nobody.

There was no reason to think that it wasn't just her paranoia.

Paranoia, a new topic to discuss with her inner self.

"You were talking to him before weren't you?" A voice broke through her reverie. Ah, Yoda. "I'm not good with them ninja sorts."

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I'll get him out," she answered Yoda in carefully measured tones.

"Thanks, Saku," he answered, turning away from her. "Goodnight."

She walked carefully to the ninja who was staring deeply into his glass (a formidable task seeing how the glass was a shot glass and very tiny). "Kakashi?" she asked.

He looked up and his eye curved up in a funny half-moon. "Ah, Sakura-chan, there you are." He downed the rest of his drink, but blinked when he realized it was already empty.

"Er, yeah. Here I am. And I guess you should go home now, eh, Kakashi? The club is closing."

Kakashi nodded and got up slowly. "They're kicking us out. Mm, happens all the time."

"Uh, right Kakashi. Um, are you okay?"'

The copy-ninja's movements were more lackadaisical than usual. And his slouch was much more pronounced than it should have been.

"I do believe I am just a wee bit intoxicated."

"Oh, Kakashi," Sakura sighed. "Ninjas aren't supposed to get drunk."

"Ah, well, if you would just flush the alcohol from my system—"

"And get rid of your hangover?" Sakura snorted, and in her new voice, even that was without inflection. "In your dreams Hatake. C'mon, we're taking you home."

"Ah, well, it was worth a shot," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

As she led him away from the bar, she wondered vaguely at just how drunk he was. He couldn't have been more than mildly intoxicated, she was sure of it. His balance was fine and the only thing that seemed to be different was his stance and his speed. Usually he was a slow walker, but he usually kept in step with his teammates. And now he was lagging behind.

They got out of the club and Sakura stopped suddenly. She nearly fell over when Kakashi rammed into her, still going at his moderate pace. "Oops," he said, his hands ghosting her shoulders as he steadied them both. "I was thinking."

"Me too, but you don't see me staring at my feet."

"But my feet are a very important part of me."

"Yeah, sure, Kakashi."

"They are."

"You said that already."

"Did not."

"You must be really drunk if you're arguing with me."

"Or really bored."

"Oh shut up, Kakashi." She took a few steps forwards and then faltered, looking back at him. "Hey, where do you live?"

Kakashi blinked in surprise. "You don't know?"

Sakura shook her head. "You never said."

"You never asked."

"Why would I?"

"Curiosity?"

"You'd probably have lied anyway."

"Probably," he said, nodding his head amiably and rubbing his clothed chin.

"So, are you going to show me where it is?"

"Ah, why don't you just go home? I can make it on my own."

"And if you don't wake up tomorrow because you choked on your own vomit?"

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough."

He started walking away.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

"And I'm showing you my apartment," he said, not turning around. "It's this way."

"Oh, okay," she replied, following him. His hands were in his pockets and he seemed to be staring at the sky. The light of the half-moon reflected off his forehead protector. "Is it far?"

"Why? Do you have a curfew?"

"No, just wondering."

"It'll take a while."

"Ah. Well, okay."

"Unless if we use chakra. Then it'll take less time."

"Er, maybe we shouldn't."

"Why not? Low on reserves? I could carry you if you wanted me to."

"Uh, no thanks," she answered, slightly flustered. "I wasn't thinking about myself, I was thinking about you: I don't think it's a good idea for you to be using chakra while you're in this state."

"Of innocence?"

"Of intoxication, you idiot old man!"

"There's no need to call me names."

"Well, you're being stupid. On purpose."

"Am I?"

"Oh shut up." She paused, walking briskly for a few seconds before remembering that she didn't know where she was going. "What the hell were you doing in there anyway?" she asked over her shoulder, not daring to look back at him. "Isn't exactly in the neighbourhood, is it?"

"I could ask you the same question," he answered, from right behind her.

"Yeah, well you didn't. I asked first."

She froze as she felt his arms wrap around her waist. "Hey!" she spoke out, confused.

The arms snaked tightly around her, leaving her arms free. He bent slightly, dipping his mouth to her ear, causing petal-pink strands of her hair to fall into her eyes. "I'll tell you, if you tell me," he whispered into her ear.

She tore herself out of his grip. "You stupid pervert!" she shouted. She narrowed her eyes at him and glowered. "Stupid, drunk pervert," she muttered, correcting herself and wondering how much of his actions were due to the alcohol and how much were just his calculated moves made to annoy her.

"I guess that's a no, then."

"Oh, just show me where you apartment is so I can go home!"

"In a hurry, are we?"

"Just use your damned chakra," she spat out at him.

He complied and shot off at a run. It was a slow run, more like a jog than anything else, in all actuality. His footing was a bit off; he almost missed a roof, twice. And he made a tad bit more noise than usual.

But that was all right.

It made him easier to follow.

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Reviews

mamoru21: Lots of people think the shounen-ai was creepy. I think it was nice. It shows what kind of a person Kakashi is.

ruka-kun: That is correct, I truly feel that Kakashi should be making out with males in the middle of crowded dance floors. Not. Sakura! Aish. A great work of art? My ego, it inflates.

MPI: I just sneezed. I'm glad you think it's bloody brilliant. Ow. I sneezed again.

Hao'sAnjul: It was much too bad that Kakashi wasn't kissing Sakura. Alas, how upsetting.

LaLa-the-Panda: Your name is amazing. Yep, Kakashi is hawt in here. As he should always be.

bijou: Yep, bisexual tendencies. That's Kakashi. He's horny to the max. Woohoo, yet another person hooked to the addictive stuff I call Code Blue.

Akari: Most girls would want to go out with a guy who pictures her as he makes out with another guy. I, on the other hand, being a wonderful-ly intelligent female would rather go out with a person who only kisses me and not random males who they meet on the dance floor, regardless of how hot they are or how much they look like Gaara.

Yue Ryong child of the shadow: Ah ha ha… your reviews are so well written and have such nice grammar. Makes me think of a teacher. Your name, your name, your name… how upsetting.

veracytzwolves: Your name is oddly cute. And that winking face makes good use of the bracket. Alas, my review responses for the last chapter was full of brackets without eyes for faces. It was upsetting.

Nasis: Mm, reviews. Finally, people feed me.

Mistress DragonFlame: No, not gay. Just… hetero with bisexual tendencies. : Gaara has a fanbase everywhere!

LiL-ChiC24: Nope, Kakashi's not kissing Gaara. Tsk, tsk, not paying enough attention, now were you? And what would be wrong with a gay Gaara? Alas, you have confused me. As has your name which is almost in sTiCkY cApS.

And so ends this review response session.

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I would appreciate it immensely if all of you reviewed me either constructively or with mindless blather going on endlessly about how much you adore my story and wish to have children with me, but due to the fact that you don't know me, all you can do is send me millions and millions of dollars in unmarked $20 bills. Or you could just ignore this plea and just hit me with a one-liner as most of you do.

Something is not adding up. Perhaps it's the peach and the schnapps.