El Tango de Roxanne

Tells the story of a prostitute and the man who falls in love with her.

First, there is desire.

Sasuke heard whispers of rumors across the lands of a pink haired kunoichi who single handed defeated Sasori no Danna of the Akatsuki, of an emerald eyed doctor who could break any bone and heal it smoothly without lifting more than a finger, and of a woman he once knew who changed it all.

Sasuke paid no time to such rumors until one day curiosity poked its ugly head in her direction. He watched along the sidelines as she fought valiantly- long, lavishing locks twirling in the wind, slender fingers curling tightly into fist to break canyons from the earth, and shining eyes gleaming with a fire burning passion known to derive from Konoha.

He declared to himself that such an able bodied woman with such power and beauty was all that he desired.

Then, passion.

He would often track her on her trips from Konoha and then some. He was merely curious at first to see what his former teammate was doing. It turned and morphed into something he couldn't declare. It was far too unfamiliar for him.

One night, he actually followed her into his old village of Konoha. His dark gaze would flicker about her until she stepped into her home, and he scurried to stay hidden. He searched out for her from the anterior of the home by climbing into the tree beside her supposed resting quarters.

Sasuke would never admit to being surprised with the sight before him nor would he admit the tightening in his loins as her fingers worked over the curvature of her breast and the gentle caressing of her clitoris. He memorized the soft mews slipping from her lips and the sight of her head thrusting back in passion upon her pillows. Her naked flesh was a memory that was forever engraved in his mind.

Then, suspicion,

He knew a woman of her caliber was going to draw the attention, or rather the unwanted attention, of others. Some in lust of raw power. Some in midst of a quest to defeat such power. Others in pure unadulterated sexual desire. Regardless of what kind of attention it was, it still was attention he did not like at all. Said attention normally was received as such- a bone crushing fist to the face, an arguably detrimental death, and then he suspected something else.

Some nights he would see his dotting gal gaze at another man with an unbeknownst flicker of emotion and a coy smile curling upon her full lips. He didn't know what to make of it, but he knew that when she did this, his stomach would tighten and his back stiffen.

Jealousy,

As time passed, Sasuke began to find his time overcome with a need to closely watch his prize. She paid no heed to the men flaunting her gifts and parting words. Even so, Sasuke felt the up most need to investigate each man she came in contact with.

Sasuke was above this, he knew, but he couldn't suppress the boiling blood whenever she did spar the moment to glance at such unworthy scum. She would even smile brilliantly at them and part of mouth to thank them genuinely. He hated it more than he hated anything else in the feeble world. He hated the dangerous grinning faces more than the catcalls. It made his teeth grind and his hands ache.

Anger,

Sasuke was never a man known to tremble, but when he saw her dainty fingers cross over the flesh of another man it took all his power not to shake. His onyx eyes narrowed and he glared hard through his lashes. He knelt down on his perch in the tree. One hand wound its fingers around the branch beneath his feet and the other hand firmly grasped the trunk of the tree. He watched the pink haired vixen through her open window ghost her tongue over the lips of the unidentified male.

Betrayal.

And as he peered through her window this very night, his presence further unknown to those in the spectacle in front of them, Sasuke watched her mold her lips to the stranger's. The two became entangled in passion before his very eyes, and Sasuke felt his fury build. The stranger had since gained confidence and became dominant with his delicate flower. The violator had climbed on top of her and hovered over kissing her along the way.

She was always supposed to be his, he thought, and his alone.

Where love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust.

His own strong hands darted into his long, billowing sleeves to pull out a kunai. He took his time cocking back his arm and aiming just right. He waited patiently for the lovers to perfectly fall into the line of his projectile. His wasn't settled into his usual smug nature until his fingers flickered towards them, the projectile embedding itself into the occipital lobe of his opponent.

Without trust, there is no love.

Her emerald eyes shot open and her piercing gaze held his own. Her lips parted into a silent scream and he swore she was frozen in place by a cold shock of fear and pain. Her eyes turned back to the corpse above her, and she began to sob viciously. She rolled the body of the perpetrator onto his back and her hands held the sides of his face. Sasuke took a long glance at the face his beloved was heaving over.

Those startling familiar blue eyes and whisker marks would forever be engraved in his mind

Jealousy, yes jealousy, will drive you mad.

A.N.: Ah, yes, Moulin Rouge you continue to move me so. A bit of an obsession for Sasuke which ends with just a bit of a classic tragedy. How morbid and sad.

Let Zidler keep his fairytale ending.