Author's note: this is kyra, fulfilling her promise to tamara. are you ready? (I am.) good. 'cause this will only happen once. (Get on with it.) Okay... -takes deep breath- i am sincerely sorry for calling you a lazy bitch. i will never insult you again, nor will i look down upon your talents as a writer. you are capable and attractive, and you have genius oozing from each and every one of your appendages. it is an honor to have you residing inside me, and i thank the Goddess of Writing and Mercy each night that you were chosen to be my muse. (No you don't.) fine, i don't. but i think it! (Fine. Continue.) um... your fiery hair brings to mind the perfection of the flames and your stormy eyes warn off all those who dare trifle with you. the depths of your creativity are unreachable, and your ideas are always perfect, and... how much longer do i have to do this?
I think this will do, for now. (good. -vanishes in a puff of relieved smoke-) Tell me that I'm not the only one who thought that wasn't completely genuine. And yes, there is indeed a story behind this. You just don't know it. Maybe if you're nice, Kyra will explain it to you.
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, then this would have happened in cannon and I wouldn't have had to write it.
--tamara

Deidara had a problem. A problem with red hair and an attitude, to be exact. Not that he could ever say anything, but it was there all the same. Every day, his problem sat there, taunting him. Every night, he knew his problem lay in bed just across the hall, still taunting him. And during missions it was worst of all. He had to spend day after day with his problem, watching as it talked and ate without the slightest regard for Deidara's own feelings. It was maddening.

Deidara's problem, of course, was an apathetic puppet by the name of Akasuna no Sasori.

He'd always had an obsession with the puppet. Even from the first, when he was still a reluctant newbie, he'd watched Sasori. First it had been with hatred, granted, but, as they say, there's a fine line between hatred and… that other thing. The one Deidara could never admit, even to himself. No, scratch that. Especially not to himself. He was a hardened member of Akatsuki, not some teenager with a crush. Heck, he a hard time even thinking that word. It brought to mind images of giggling teenage girls, the kind who were associated with words like 'bubbly' and 'hyperactive' and, most frighteningly of all, 'fangirl.' If Deidara was one thing, it was most certainly not a fangirl. Not even if he spent his time daydreaming about red hair and emotionless eyes. Not even if he longed to hear anything from the other man's lips that wasn't an insult. Not even then. It made him… obsessed, perhaps, but not fangirl-ish. Just because he looked a little like a girl didn't mean he was one!

Anyway, the point was that ever since he'd first met Sasori, the man had fascinated him. Infuriated him to the point of wanting to blow him up in a beautiful, perfect boom, but still fascinated him. Deidara couldn't help it. Something about Sasori's flawless features drew him in and refused to let him go.

Apparently, though, Sasori didn't feel the same way. Or, if he did, he hid it very well. Of course, that was the whole reason he'd become a puppet in the first place, but even so… He could at least do his partner the favor of letting him know something of his thought process.

Deidara sighed, looking at the door in front of him, wondering which particular twist of fate had reduced him to this. Surely it couldn't just have been nature that had him begging for help from Konan, of all people. Heck, it would make more sense to ask Itachi about… that kind of issue. At least Itachi would just look at him like a slug and tell him to get the hell out. Deidara suspected that Konan would laugh while she did it.

She didn't. Well, not exactly. What she did was stare at him for a long moment, then turn away and start… giggling!? The earlier taboo words flashed through Deidara's head once more, and he wondered whether Konan was actually some kind of rabid fangirl in disguise, sent to the base by some rival organization to completely topple over the structure of Akatsuki and bring the world as Deidara knew it crumbling into virtual dust.

Finally, though, she turned back to him, her face almost composed again. In a completely matter-of-fact voice, she said, "This may take a while. You'd better come in."

Deidara sat in the main hall, watching for Sasori. Konan sat a few feet away, apparently absorbed in a new, exceedingly complex origami sculpture-like-thing. He didn't even try to follow her fingers as they flickered in and out, creating waves and creases at lightning speed.

Suddenly, his head snapped up as the person he'd been waiting for walked in. Sasori glanced from Deidara to Konan, raised an eyebrow, and shrugged. He took a seat a little ways away, pulling out a miniature puppet and beginning to amuse himself by twisting it into all manner of painful and impractical positions not usually achieved by the human body. He felt sorry for the puppet.

Konan glanced up from her creation and met Deidara's eyes for a fraction of a second. That told him everything he needed to know. It was time.

With far too much casualness, he pulled out a little clay flower, made specially for the occasion, and began fiddling with the edges. He noticed both Konan and Sasori focus on it, Konan's eyes filled with curiosity and mischief, and Sasori's filled with confusion and… anger? It was working!

Konan put down her half-made paper contraption and sidled over to where Deidara sat. "What's that?"

He looked up at her. "What do you think, yeah? It's going to be a bomb!"

She eyed him with scorn and disdain. "I can see that. I meant, why that form? You tend to stick to animals, don't you?"

It was surprisingly easy to call up a blush. All he had to do was think of Sasori's face framed by rain-soaked hair and… no! He was supposed to be flirting with Konan here, not mooning over Sasori. And, anyway, what he did wasn't mooning! It was… thinking! Yeah, that's it!

"Well?"

He wrenched his attention back to her. "Well… um… see… I…" he trailed off, trying to remember his lines. She crossed her arms, waiting. She could tell that he'd forgotten, and her scowl deepened.

"It has nothing to do with the fact that I happen to like that, does it?" Under her dangerous tone were the words, 'You idiot! This is the last time I'm going to waste any of my precious time trying to sort out your pitifully pathetic life.'

"Umm… yeah?" He looked at her, trying to spot any actual emotion. There wasn't any. "Do you like it?" Hidden message: 'You might not ever do this again, but you're committed now. Act, dammit!'

She apparently got the message, because her expression softened. Slightly. "Should I feel flattered?"

He nodded, relieved that she seemed to have taken control of the situation once again. "If you want. I… actually… um… I was going to offer it to you, yeah."

A genuine smile. Well, theatrically genuine. As in, he knew she didn't actually mean it, but she was acting again, and her character meant it, and… never mind. That was confusing. She smiled at him in a way that seemed genuine to him and, more importantly, to Sasori, who'd given up all pretense at contorting his poor puppet's body and was watching the action with the air of one trying very hard not to be caught watching. He wasn't nearly as good at it as Konan was.

"Thank you." Her eyes narrowed very slightly. "It won't explode when I touch it, will it?"

"No!" he hastened to assure her. "They only explode when I tell them to."

Her smile transfigured into an expression of more than mild skepticism. "What, you have a telepathic connection with your clay and you say, 'Explode pretty please' and they do?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"How lovely."

Deidara didn't bother to think of a witty retort. Instead, he turned a page in his mental script and found the part he really hadn't liked. "So… um… do you want to get together sometime?"

Her glower was pure venom. 'Not now, idiot! You turned two pages, not one! Back up!'

He did as he was told. Oops, he had skipped over the entire 'casual acquaintance to getting to know each other a little better' stage. Now what?

She saved him again. He decided that, after this was done, he owed her something nice. He wasn't sure what yet, but eventually he would find a way to thank her. "I don't even know you. You're being a bit hasty, don't you think?"

"I didn't mean it that way!" he protested. "I just meant… you know… as friends. I mean, we don't actually know each other that well. We live in the same house, after all, and… you know… we should… you know."

She stopped his bumbling attempt at fixing his error with a few curt words. "You are saying that we should drink coffee together one day and see if we have anything in common."

"Yeah!" 'Thank you so much!'

"That could be arranged." 'You so owe me for this.'

"Great!" 'What do you want?'

"Do you have any suggestions as to time and place?" 'Lifetime servitude might do the trick.'

"Um… here?" 'Anything else?'

"Tomorrow." 'You must be joking.'

"Okay. I'll see you then, yeah." 'I hate you.'

"Indeed. I shall look forward to it." 'The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you.'

She picked up her half finished paper creation and left the main hall, leaving Sasori and Deidara to carefully avoid each others' gaze.

Sasori didn't talk to Deidara all that day, and Deidara couldn't help wondering if everything had gone very wrong. When he asked her about it, though, Konan assured him that it hadn't. Well, actually, what she said was, "The only way he couldn't have seen though that is if he's completely and utterly infatuated. Of if he just doesn't care." Deidara chose to ignore the less-than-encouraging half of that statement and settle for 'completely and utterly infatuated.' He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but it sounded promising.

Sasori continued to ignore Deidara all the next day while he and Konan had their 'date' in the main hall, carefully in view of anyone who happened to walk past. Sir Leader was one of those, but, as Deidara was still alive and still in possession of all of his limbs, he could only assume that Konan had explained everything to the Leader beforehand. Deidara couldn't see anyone caught cheating on Sir Leader staying alive for more than three seconds after he caught them. Five, if he was feeling tired that day.

Finally, after three days of solid silence, Deidara started giving up hope. Maybe 'complete and utter infatuation' meant hatred, not… that other word. He began to visibly droop, watching listlessly as the world in general, and Sasori in particular, went about their daily routines without him. Konan, disgusted by his general lack of anything remotely resembling perseverance, informed him that it was over and went back to being unseen. She also gave back his clay flower, which he vowed to explode in her room one day. When he could be bothered to get up and go there again.

Oddly enough, his utter apathy for anything going on around him seemed to get more life out of Sasori. The redheaded puppet began talking again, asking if Deidara was okay (though he tended to end those queries with phrases resembling, 'you know, not that I actually care, but I don't want a defective partner when Sir Leader sends us out again.') It was better than nothing.

Finally, when they were the only ones in the main hall, Sasori asked the question flat out. "What's going on? You've been a human vegetable – no insult intended, if you're listening Zetsu – for the last week or so."

Deidara shrugged. "Nothing."

"No it's not. Out with it. What's wrong?"

Deidara tried to muster a scowl, but it fell short, landing in the deep, dark realms of grimaces instead. "Nothing."

Sasori's scowl was much more satisfactory. "You expect me to believe that? I'm your partner, Deidara. I have a right to know."

Deidara looked at his partner with dull eyes. "You really want to know?"

Sasori nodded.

"Fine." His numb state allowed him to spout out the most incredible things, things he would never have been able to manage otherwise. "It's you, yeah. You won't see, and it hurts."

Sasori's scowl faded into a frown. "Explain."

Made reckless by apathy, Deidara did as he was bid. "I want you to notice me, to care about me, to give a damn if I die, yeah. I talked to Konan, and she said I should make you jealous, but that didn't work, and now you're going to kill me for saying this, and I don't care 'cause death would be better than this, and… and… and I love you Sasori-san."

He closed his eyes, wondering which form of death Sasori would choose. Would it be quick? A burst of all-consuming flame, perhaps? Or would the puppet-master draw it out and make it painful?

He did neither. Instead, he stared. "Say that again?"

"What part?"

"The last part."

"I love you, Sasori-san?"

Sasori nodded.

"Not my fault," Dediara muttered rebelliously. "Stupid emotions, yeah. I can see why you got rid of them."

"Maybe not entirely."

Deidara could tell he wasn't supposed to have heard that, but his hearing was better than people might think. "What?"

Sasori looked at him and sighed. "So the whole thing with Konan was a joke?"

"A trick, yeah."

"Good."

"What?"

"I said, good. Because… because I think I love you too."

Deidara looked up at Sasori, his eyes showing more life than they had in a week. "You mean it?"

"Obviously."

Deidara stood, his legs trembling slightly. Sasori, looking equally hesitant, came up to meet him. "I really don't know how this work," the redhead muttered.

Deidara grinned, his eyes alight completely. "Don't worry. Neither do I."

Sasori met his eyes and drew him closer. His faces inches away from Deidara's face, he murmured, "then shall we improvise?"

Deidara didn't even bother to reply.