Apologies if this contradicts anything that's happened recently; I am not quite caught up. JiraTsu are my favorite pairing of all time and I had to write them something. And by something I mean something... well, note the rating.

Spoilers for the Pain battle.

"Where am I?" Tsunade asks, as she opens her eyes in a field beneath an oak tree. She sits up and runs her hands through the tall grass. The sun is shining brightly in a blue sky overhead but she feels a chill, and she looks around, confused.

"Where do you think you are?" she hears a familiar voice ask, and she notices Jiraiya, her old friend, sitting beneath the tree. He smiles broadly. He seems somewhat younger than she remembers him, and Tsunade frowns.

"You're dead," she says blankly. "And I'm very cold. Am I dead now, too?"

"No. You're in a coma." He cocks his head to the side and watches her. "Nagato attacked the village, and you overextended yourself, as usual. Don't you remember?"

Suddenly she does. Memories of the battle, of her consciousness spread across a hundred different Katsuyus, images of death and destruction and Pain, flood and overwhelm her. She sees Kakashi die, again, and Shizune, and a dozen other villagers and the Hokage rises to her feet. "What's happened? Is the village safe? Did Naruto—"

"I don't know," Jiraiya replies. She looks at him crossly and he gives an infuriating shrug. "I'm not an all knowing spirit," he explains. "This is all happening in your mind. I only know what you know."

Tsunade sighs. "So I'm talking to myself."

"That's one way to look at it," Jiraiya says, with a grin.

She looks down at her feet and kicks a patch of dirt. It sputters through the air and lands far in the distance with a satisfying thud.

Some Hokage she turned out to be. The village is in incomparable danger, as far as she knows, and she is totally useless. Tsunade looks up at Jiraiya and her eyes narrow. "So since you're just a figment of my imagination," she says, "there's no point in telling you how angry I am that you're dead?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Well, I'm going to do it anyway," she says, and turns on him. "I'm very angry that you're dead. You giant idiot. Who is going to save the village now?"

His smile fades. "You're angry because of the village."

"Yes," she says. "This is a terrible thing to make Naruto face all by himself. He's just a boy. You were his teacher. You were supposed to help him. You were supposed to take over if I fell. You were supposed to—"

"—return to you?" he asks. He stands and takes a step towards her.

Tsunade wilts, her shoulders sinking. "That too," she says quietly. "You promised. You giant idiot."

She feels his hands on her shoulders, his fingers large and rough and strong. She can sense his chakra changing, warming the air around them. Tsunade looks up and her brow furrows.

"You said you were cold," he explains.

A familiar ache tugs at her, a hard knot of need turning in her gut. Jiraiya's hands are on her waist now, coaxing her towards him, and Tsunade closes her eyes. She has had this dream before. When his mouth finds hers she presses her lips against his, and his kiss is exactly as she's imagined it a hundred other times.

The things Tsunade knows about Jiraiya are enough to form the man. She knows that he was vain. She knows that there were streaks of gray amidst his shock white hair and that he carefully picked them out. She knows that he liked fried eggs with toast for breakfast, and that he always chose pork over poultry. She knows that he was an idealist, that he was cocky but also kind, and that he had a soft spot for children. Everybody knows that Jiraiya liked women of all shapes and sizes, but Tsunade knows that he would tip a waitress more if she had large breasts and that the most beautiful girls in his novels always had sun blonde hair.

He draws back a little, meeting her eyes. "I wanted you," he says. "So much."

Tsunade lowers her head. "I know." He is waiting for her, his dark eyes burning with a half familiar longing, and she exhales. She has not allowed herself this particular fantasy since he died. Tsunade hesitates a moment before she lets her robe fall to the ground. The tall grass folds beneath its weight.

There are things about Jiraiya that Tsunade does not know. She does not know how he would have responded when she touched him, whether he would have sighed or smiled or pulled away. She does not know if he was ticklish beneath his ribs. She does not know if he slept on his side or on his back, or which sorts of foreplay he preferred, or what face he would make at the moment of climax. She does not know why she never allowed herself to learn these things, but her mind can fill in these details and it is almost enough.

Jiraiya's eyes linger on her breasts before he pulls his shirt over his head, and she watches the muscles of his chest flex and tighten under the spiderweb of scars. When he is free of his clothes he charges. Tsunade falls to the ground beneath a flurry of kisses and seeking hands. He leans over her, pulling her hips towards him. She can feel his length against her leg, and when he slides inside her she draws a sharp breath and inclines her head.

"I love you," he says, his chin brushing against her cheek. "I always did, you know."

It is almost enough to undo her. Tsunade does not want to cry and so she lifts her hips instead. Jiraiya gasps into her hair. His body trembles and his hands are everywhere, desperate and alive. Tsunade arches her back. His chakra changes again, running wild through his fingers, sending shivers across her skin. She clings to him and her body tenses; her own chakra breaks and swells. When he finds release she falls over the edge with him. She cries out his name and goes limp in the grass, drowning beneath the waves.

Tsunade knows despite herself she loves him. He collapses against her chest and she silently tells him so.

They lie there, quietly comfortable in each other's company as they try to catch their breath. After a moment Jiraiya pushes himself up, his arms shaking a little as he looks down at her. She smiles up at him. "That was..." His eyes are wide, and he leans in to kiss her quickly on the cheek. "Tsunade, I never... Why didn't we do this when I was alive?"

For a moment Tsunade had forgotten their circumstances and at that reminder she looks away. She knows the dream is almost over. "I was afraid," she answers, her eyes fixed on the bark of the old oak tree. "People I care about tend to die."

"Willing to gamble with everything but your heart, is that it?" There is an edge of bitterness in his voice that was not there before. Jiraiya rolls off of her, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up into the sky. He seems more naked and alone, suddenly, and Tsunade goes to him. She rests her head on his chest and wraps her arms around him, holding him close. Jiraiya sighs and strokes her hair.

"You should get back to the village," he tells her.

"I don't want to." His body is warm beneath her, and he smells of sweat and sex and grass. Perhaps it is the coma but this dream seems more vivid than the others. "When I wake up, you'll be dead again. I'd rather stay here."

She feels him shift beneath her. "Tsunade," he says sternly. "You have to go back. If you don't, Danzo will take over and everything will go to hell. Konaha needs you."

The Hokage sits up and lets out a long breath. "Yes. I know."

Her hair is in disarray, and she reaches up to put it back in place. He props himself up on one elbow to watch her. She turns to look at him, her spine twisting, and his eyes drift down to her glorious unclothed breasts. Jiraiya cannot help but smile.

"Anyway," he says, and he seems himself again, the lightness of his tone returned. "Naruto's already worked his special magic on Pain, and that fickle bastard has brought all the villagers back to life." His eyes twinkle as he pulls his gaze back up to meet hers. "Maybe someone will bring me back, too. "

It takes a moment for her eyes widen. "Wait, what are you talking about? How do you know that? You're not—" Her breath hitches and she reaches for him, but the world is already beginning to fade, and when she wakes in her own time Jiraiya is gone.