A/N- At the suggestion of Anoni Mos666 I sort of did a few-years-in-the-future-style-epilogue of sorts. It's actually mostly drabbles of little head canons I was having the night after I finished the story. Inevitable problems, possible situations they'd confront. Senseless drabbling. Boring, mushy stuff.

You probably shouldn't read it and leave the story as is.

It had been two years since Sakura had decided to stay.

Loving Sakura had been very easy. Letting her love him had been both terrifying and addicting. She warmed everyone to her—much to his irritation, usually—and no one was ever really spared her kindness and rough handed care. Much icier men, men who'd intimidate entire villages, thawed helplessly in her presence.

On their wedding day, her tears hadn't really surprised him. They'd told him brides and tears go hand in hand—what had taken him by surprise, however, was his own loss of composure. He'd begun saying his vows steadily enough when it had suddenly struck him that the words weren't sufficient for what he felt.

He could promise to take care of her, to love her—but did that show how much it meant to him that she had loved him? How much it had meant that she had chosen him? That the way she trustingly leaned against him when he'd slaughtered countless men made his heart soar and his throat ache sharply. That she allowed him to touch her with his bloodstained hands, that she had forgiven his past actions, that she had ignored the wary looks of her friends and family when she'd introduce him to them…could she ever really understand how much she had redeemed him? How lonely he had been until he'd found her broken and bleeding in a cave?

He'd realized that everyone was waiting for him to finish his vows, tried to speak past the constricting tightness of his throat—and he'd seen the brief look of hurt across Sakura's glowing features—and he struggled even more to try and show her that he was not doubting their marriage.

She'd reached up then, her small pale hands smoothing over his face discreetly, and he pretended that he didn't feel the dampness of his tears when she moved her hand down to clutch his hands in hers.

"You really are romantic, aren't you, Gaara-kun?" She'd murmured, her smile gentle and encouraging.

And he'd sucked in a deep breath and forced out the words, trembled a little as he waited. When it had come time to ask if anyone wanted to protest the marriage it was silent, except for a few scowls and hopeful shifts from Naruto, the Uchiha and Lee.

And then he'd kissed her with a fierceness and a desperation that the vows hadn't been able to express. She'd kissed him back gently, accepting his ferocity and soothing him with her embrace.

And still after a year of marriage, he'd never really gotten over the novelty of her being in love with him. It'd surprise him sometimes, when he'd wake up and find her bare body entwined with his. It unnerved him to the point where he was terrified he might wear her kindness thin. He clung to her much too tightly when they slept; but she'd only snuggle in further. He made love to her much too many times, earning her whines and glares; but she'd part her thighs and oblige him each and every single time. He'd become irritated with work, frustrated with useless, drawn out meetings; but she'd kiss his cheek and tug his hair (in front of the elders, anbu, and staff alike), making his pulse flutter, and all of the bitterness and resentment promptly left him.

He didn't even mind when the rest of them smiled at him knowingly after she'd left.

He wanted everyone to know he loved her.

He wanted everyone to see that someone had found him worth loving.

There were times, however, when the inevitable skirmishes occurred—like now.

His wife crossed her arms and glared up at him with a wrath that made him sigh. She arched a pink brow at his silence.

"Sabaku no Gaara," She began and he tried not to smirk at the name she called him whenever she was angry. "I am not a prisoner here. You told me I could go to Konoha whenever and however many times as I pleased. You promised."

He sat in his chair and rubbed his temples. "Things have changed."

She slammed her palm down on the desk. "I am going whether you like it or not."

He looked up at her grimly. She was beautiful in her anger, like she was beautiful in her sorrow and laughter. He was close-mouthed and astute enough to know how to not make her angry most of the time, and while they may have been polar opposite's personality wise what they shared in common was a bone deep stubbornness that both thrilled him and drove him mad.

They didn't argue often but when they did it was a test of steel will against another. They resolved it usually with some kind of a display instead of an apology.

He'd leave a bowl of her favorite sweets in the library and sulk back in his office until bedtime.

She'd saunter in after a meeting with a cup of tea and sit on his lap then proceed to give him those groan inducing scalp massages while grumbling.

If it dragged out long enough they'd resort to something a bit more heated.

He'd lock them both in the library or shower and pull her up against the wall and thrust into her until she was reduced to an exhausted, boneless puddle in his arms, then let her sleep it off for the rest of the day and wake her with breakfast in bed.

She'd walk into his office and slink beneath his desk, her mouth trailing lower until his fists were clenched in her pink hair as she pleasured him witless and when he came to his senses she was sitting on his lap and doing his paperwork for him.

"You can't keep me here."

He focused back on her. She didn't look as angry—but she looked every bit as resolved to fight him. He rubbed his temples again. "You can hate me, Sakura, but I won't budge on this. You are not leaving Suna. I'll have my anbu make sure you won't."

"I won't hate you, Gaara, but…" She shut her eyes and stepped away from him. "You promised."

"Sakura—" He inhaled sharply when he saw her crying. He tried to reach for her but she jerked away.

"I want to see them." She wiped at her face miserably. "I want to see my mom and dad. I want to see Naruto and Sasuke-kun and Kaka-sensei and Sai and I even want to see Ino-pig." Her brow crumpled. "I miss them."

He could never stand it when she cried. He stood and tugged her into his chest, holding her still when she struggled. "Stop." He chided and he stroked her hair when she shuddered. She'd been much more emotional lately—she'd cry over a cooked and skewered lizard, fly into a rage if she saw a particularly large chain, snapping it in half with her awe-inspiring (and slightly frightening) strength. He'd often found her sleeping in odd places, her condition leeching her of her usual energy. His paranoia wasn't helping her nerves either.

He touched her stomach possessively, gently. It was still somewhat flat but he'd paid enough attention to notice the slight outward curve she'd developed. He found himself oddly impatient to see her full and round with his child. "You cannot travel to Konoha in your condition, Sakura."

She gave a little hiccup against his chest and he coddled her closer, murmuring into her ear soothingly.

"You expect me to go a whole nine months without seeing them? It will be even harder once the baby is born, Gaara!" Her small pale fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt. "I want to tell them in person. I don't want to tell them through a letter."

He sighed and pressed his mouth to her temple, inhaling her heady scent as his hand rubbed her belly tenderly. "You'd risk your health—our baby's health—just to tell them in person?"

She sniffled. "I'm a medic. I know what my limitations are."

"No." He muttered, holding her more tightly when she stiffened against him. "I'm sorry—but I will not risk it."

"You aren't risking anything."

"I am risking everything." Gaara lifted her chin, his jaw clenched. "How can I protect you if you are away from me?"

"I can protect myself."

"Not while you are with child. One wrong punch or misstep could—"

She pushed him away from her. "I don't—I can't argue right now." She walked towards the door while wiping her tear streaked face miserably. "I'm sleeping in my bedroom tonight."

She shut the door behind her.

She had wanted to go sulk in her bedroom for the rest of the night.

What she ended up doing was sitting on the kitchen counter and let the cooks spoil her with sweets. They'd been surprisingly kind to her, perhaps because they were so very terrified of her husband, but more often than not she found herself bothering them by picking at food they hadn't served yet.

"There's chocolate cake, Sakura-sama." One of the younger chefs informed her, his cheeky smile reminding her of Naruto.

She held out her hands. He laughed as he handed it to her, giving her a fork ruefully.

She dug in with only the smallest twinge of conscious. She shouldn't be eating so much junk food but gods, she craved it like mad. It had gotten to the point where anything that wasn't sweet didn't tempt her at all.

"Did you and the Kazekage get into another fight?" His dark eyes looked worried.

She sighed and slipped the fork out of her mouth. "Is it that obvious?"

He nodded but looked as if he did not wish to pry. "So many sweets are not good for the baby. You need to eat other foods also. Fruits and vegetables…"

She put the plate down with a sigh. "You sound like my mother." Without warning, tears stung her eyes. She covered her face in humiliation. "I miss my mom."

The chef panicked, fluttering over her and handing her a kitchen towel. He gave a nervous chuckle when she sniffled and wiped her face. "Sakura-sama, please, go to the dining table. I will prepare something soothing—a soup, perhaps, and a cup of tea."

She nodded and jumped off the counter, shuffled herself out the room. She was such a wreck. She was barely a month and she was already half crazy. She sat down and shut her eyes for a moment, terribly tired.

She never noticed when she fell asleep.

As a shinobi, there had been a few times when Juro had seen his life flash before his eyes. Once was when he'd been a child and he'd fallen off his roof. Another was when he'd gone on his first A rank mission and he'd gotten a sword cleaved into his chest.

The third was now, as he held a sleeping Sakura in his arms with the Kazekage standing behind him.

"You're touching her."

Juro turned in a panic. "She was asleep at the dining table—I tried to call you but you told me not now and an hour passed and Sakura-san kept slipping off the table. So, I th-thought it would be a good idea to take her to bed."

Gaara's eyes narrowed.

"To your bed!" Juro corrected himself. "I would never t-touch Sakura-san that way—the thought would n-never occur to me. Not that your wife is not b-beautiful because Sakura-san is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen—her pink hair is lovely—and I-I'd still never touch her because I have the utmost respect for her. As a subordinate."

Sakura snuggled into his chest and softly mumbled 'Juro-san' in her sleep.

His knees shook.

Gaara stepped forward and Juro shut his eyes. He supposed he'd had a good enough life.

"Give her to me."

With his eyes still shut, he lifted out his arms instantly.

He felt Gaara pluck her away. "Thank you for taking care of Sakura."

Juro opened his eyes, saw the way Gaara gazed down at his sleeping wife tenderly. He smiled in relief. Sakura-san was a good influence on him. She softened him up without ever really trying or noticing.

"You're dismissed."

Juro nodded but hesitated. "Kazekage-sama? If I may suggest something?"

Gaara looked at him silently.

"At the end of the week I am making a trip to Konoha with a few fellow shinobi. It would not be a bother for us to escort any of Sakura-san's family or friends for a visit." He scratched the back of his head. "The cook mentioned Sakura-san crying for her mother."

Gaara said nothing for a few moments, then looked back down at her. The look was a deeply intimate one, and it made his cheeks heat. "Thank you. I'll let you know tomorrow."

Juro nodded with a nervous smile. "Good night, Kazekage-sama."

She woke feeling his fingers sifting through her hair. She was on her side and curled into him, her leg draped over his hip. She usually slept on her stomach but while he slept he'd tug her towards him tightly, so she'd simply had to grow accustomed to this position. Not that she minded waking up to find herself snuggled into the very firm chest of her husband.

"I'm sorry for making you cry, Sakura." His fingertips cradled her jaw tenderly. "I'll try not to do it again."

She sighed softly. "I fell asleep again, didn't I?"

He hummed and kissed her forehead. "You should go back to sleep." He kissed her in a way that told her he didn't really want her to. "I think I have a way for you to see your family without you leaving Suna."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him expectantly.

He touched her nose with a fingertip. "Juro is going to Konoha at the end of this week. He stated it would be easy for him to bring anyone you'd wish."

Bring them? She wanted to see all of them. She doubted Sasuke would come willingly and Naruto was still training to be hokage. Kakashi was lazy and Sai was usually out on missions.

"All of them." She murmured, knowing it wasn't likely. "My parents. Ino-pig. Sasuke-kun and Naruto and Kaka-sensei and stupid Sai. Anyone who wants to come. Maybe we can have a big dinner and celebration—like we did for our wedding. And we can announce the baby to them all."

He smiled as her enthusiasm grew. "We can do that."

She felt a little uncertain. "You promise?"

He kissed her softly. "I promise."

She hugged him tightly, wrapping herself around him happily. "I love you."

She felt his pulse pick up. His hands gripped her tightly and he breathed against her neck deeply. "Go to sleep. You're exhausted."

But she could feel his arousal against her hip, felt the way his breathing quickened. Gaara's sexual appetite had surprised her with its frequency and ferocity. She didn't exactly have much experience but Ino—and to her chagrin Tsunade—had told her it wasn't normal.

With her pregnancy and exhaustion she often found herself asleep before he came to bed. He'd never complained, but she knew the lack of intimacy must be driving him crazy.

Slowly, she shifted onto her back and grabbed his hand, leading it to the tab of the zipper on her shirt.

His green eyes darkened as his breath grew jagged. "You're tired, Sakura." But he tugged the zipper down anyway, parting the fabric and crouching over her.

"I had a nice nap." She murmured, shutting her eyes when his mouth slid down her throat. His pale hands tugged the rest of her clothing off and she shivered when he parted her thighs.

She arched against him and gasped as he filled her. "Just relax." He murmured as he moved, and she did anything but as they made love until the dark hours of dawn.

It had been nine months since they'd discovered Sakura was pregnant.

It was today that she had gotten contractions.

You could use many words to describe the Kazekage, Juro thought. A coward was not one of them. But as he watched him pace up and down the hall outside of the labor room with his sand shifting about him madly the only expression on his usually stoic features was a bald panic.

"It's taking too long." He muttered, and Juro clutched his hands in front of him.

"She is being attended by the two best medical shinobi in all the land, Kazekage-sama. She could not be in better hands."

It had surprised them when Tsunade and Shizune had showed up on their doorstep a week before Sakura's due date. Surprised them—but relieved Gaara immensely.

"Are you sure this is okay, Tsunade-shishou?" Sakura had muttered while hugging the chesty woman.

Tsunade smiled a little softly. "Of course it's okay. Let Naruto get a taste of being Hokage for a while. See if he's still screeching it from the rooftops." She thumped her back none too gently. "You're huge." She observed, pressing a glowing hand to her stomach. "Your baby is very small—fully developed but small." She eyed Sakura and Gaara. "No surprise, considering the parents." She pulled her hand away as Gaara stepped forward.

Gaara wrapped a protective arm around his wife. "You will deliver the baby?"

Tsunade nodded. "Of course. You're not going to get rid of me for a while, Kazekage."

Gaara gave her a thankful look. "I am glad you have come. While our medics are competent I do not believe anyone could match you medical prowess. Neither would Sakura feel more comfortable with anyone else."

"Medical prowess." Tsunade mumbled to herself, looking pleased. Tsunade nodded. "Indeed. I expect payment, however, for the trouble of leaving my village in the hands of Uzumaki Naruto. Gods know what kind of shape it will be in when I return."

Sakura had laughed a little. "There is a wonderful pub that Juro-san can show you."

Juro paled when everyone looked at him. "I-I can—?"

Tsunade eyed him appreciatively. "He can definitely show me a few things."

He blushed furiously.

Sakura blushed along with him, giving Tsunade a chiding look. "Tsunade-shishou!"

She'd laughed and he'd taken her to the pub the very next night.

He'd thought trying to outdrink Temari had been bad—but all of the men in the bar combined couldn't out do Tsunade. She'd become an instant favorite of the bartenders. He hadn't been able to stomach anything for two days afterwards.

They heard Sakura give a soft cry from within the doors, startling them both.

"She's in pain." Gaara sat on the chair and dropped his head in his hands. "This is going to be an only child."

Juro almost smiled.

A few minutes later Tsunade came out the door. Gaara flew onto his feet and before he could ask she interrupted him. "She's fine. The baby is fine. Everything went smoothly."

Gaara muttered a thank you then pushed into the room without another word.

Tsunade sighed and looked at Juro tiredly. "Think you're up for another night at the pub?"

"This is going to be an only child." Sakura muttered as soon as he entered the room. He stumbled towards her, his eyes riveted on the small bundle wrapped in white blankets in her arms.

He reached for it gently and she handed their baby over with a tired, exultant smile. "He looks nothing like me." She breathed deeply. "Even Tsunade-shishou said so."

The baby had a full head of scarlet hair, its skin pale wrinkly and reddened. He opened his small puffy eyes and looked directly up at him.

Gaara felt his heart pound painfully in his chest. "He has your eyes."

Sakura hummed softly, her eyes shut as she leaned against the pillow. "We both have green eyes." She sounded a bit disgruntled. "I carried him and fed him all the chocolate he wanted and he doesn't look a thing like me."

Gaara shook his head minutely. "I know your eyes. Perhaps it's a bit soon to tell but I'm sure of it." He caressed the infants head tenderly. Despite that one feature the baby really did look exactly like him. He smiled as a sense of pride filled him.

He sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently. She gave a soft sigh, already sleeping. "I love you, Sakura. Thank you."

It had been six years since Sakura had given birth.

"I really don't know what to do." Sakura groaned, dumping herself into Gaara's lap. He pulled her more securely against him, kissed the top of her pink hair comfortingly. "Our child is brilliant—too brilliant. He annoys every one of his teachers. I've received fifteen letters in the past month."

Gaara smirked a little, tucking her hair behind her ear. "We need to find him another teacher, then."

"We've been through six of them." She dropped her head into her hands. "He inherited my brain and temper and your stubborn attitude."

He was about to protest about him inheriting his stubbornness when they heard the door creak quietly.

A small chubby hand gripped the edge of the door, red hair and bright green eyes peering at them curiously. Sakura held out her arms.

Yashamaru grinned and tottered forward happily, crashing into Sakura's arms. She giggled as she lifted him up into her lap, cuddling him into her chest tightly. "You little heathen." She murmured. "Were you spying on mommy and daddy?"

He nodded without a smudge of remorse. He looked up at his father expectantly, then handed Sakura something. She took it curiously, lifting it up to inspect it further.

It was a tiny rose made of sand, a little out of proportion and it almost crumbled as she held it. Gaara watched tears well up in her pretty green eyes and he smiled at his son proudly. He'd only barely taught him how to sculpt flowers a few days ago. "It's beautiful, Yashamaru." She sniffled. "It's prettier than the hundreds of sand flowers your father has given me."

Gaara pinched her hip in slight retaliation.

She ignored him and placed the flower behind her ear. She took a deep breath and gave their child a grim look. "You know mommy likes presents—and I think you did that so I couldn't be mad at you."

Yashamaru crossed his arms and looked away, a posture much too mature for a six year old. "I don't like teachers."

Sakura clutched the top of his spiky red head and turned his face back to hers. "Do you want to become a powerful shinobi like mommy?"

Gaara pinched her again.

"And daddy?" She added.

Yashamaru didn't budge.

Gaara spoke now. "Don't you want to defeat your cousins?" Yashamaru looked up at him with wide green eyes—his wife's eyes. Eyes that softened him. He smiled a little. "They're getting stronger and stronger every day. They're getting stronger because they are learning from their sensei's."

He knew the mini rivalry Yashamaru had developed with his sibling's children—knew that if anything would fuel him, it would be that.

His son nodded.

"Then you need teachers." Sakura repeated for seemingly the millionth time. Yashamaru nodded again a little reluctantly then snuggled into her chest, making her buckle slightly.

Soon Yashamaru had fallen asleep and Sakura drowsily played with their son's thick red hair. He knew it wouldn't be long before she followed suit and he'd have his wife and son sleeping in his lap like kittens.

Sakura looked up at him with a tender smile.

"We're a bit of a handful, aren't we?"

He pulled her chin up and kissed her. "Nothing a Kazekage cannot handle."

It was after fifteen years of marriage that Gaara nearly lost Sakura due to an assassination attempt.

They'd been having dinner as usual, a rare night alone while Yashamaru had spent the night at Matsuri's and Kankuro's. He'd been eating his usual spicy meal while Sakura had only barely sipped at her wine because she was babbling about being worried about Yashamaru. He'd taken about his sixth bite when he'd felt a curious numbness settle over his face, and a sharp pain tear across his chest.

He tried to say her name but slid forward weakly instead—and she'd caught him instantly.

"Gaara? Gaara what's wrong—"

She pressed her glowing hands against his chest—they heard screams come from the kitchen.

"Poison. They're trying to assassinate you." Sakura whispered frantically, and she fumbled as she grabbed a pitcher of water and pulled out a large water bubble, pushing it into his chest and drawing out the poison. "We need to run. My arm is going numb too—but if I don't get this out immediately you'll—"

The screams intensified until it suddenly went eerily quiet.

She lifted him up and bolted—but something latched onto her ankle and ripped them back down. They hit the floor hard and he was helpless and paralyzed as he watched the men drag his wife towards them.

She reached forward and grabbed the string, breaking it easily. They rushed her but she grabbed a chair at the last split second and slammed it across two of them, wooden splinters flying everywhere.

A shinobi side stepped her and ran towards him with a kunai drawn but she flew to her feet and kicked the man away, standing before him protectively.

He'd kept begging his body to move, for his sand to shield her as she viciously fought them alone, her blood beginning to splatter across the floor and table. She kept blocking them every time they tried to reach his paralyzed body, taking brutal hits into her small body. Her movements were slightly sluggish, slower than usual, and he knew the small amount of poison she'd swallowed was causing her pain.

She flipped away when the leader swung down a heavy, wicked looking axe, neatly cutting the table in two. She punched the ground and formed a small wall between them and the shinobi, biting her thumb and slamming her palm on the ground.

She summoned a small snail and latched it over his chest. "Don't try to move." She commanded fiercely, and he only groaned as she leapt over the small wall and flew at the assassins with renewed anger.

He couldn't see past the barrier, could only hear the small cries and grunts and hard smacks of fists connecting, and then he heard nothing—and the snail suddenly vanished. He was slowly beginning to gain control over his limbs, tried to crawl out when he heard footsteps storming down the hall.

"Kazekage-sama!" Juro appeared with a small group of men and they ran towards him and lifted him.

He looked across and saw Sakura sprawled across a broken half of a table, the large scythe-like axe embedded into her abdomen viciously.

He jerked out of their grasp, stumbling forward towards her.

"The medics!" Juro shouted, helping the Kazekage towards his wife.

"Sakura…" Gaara groaned out, touching her face with numb fingers.

Her lashes fluttered but she kept her eyes shut. She lifted her glowing hands to her abdomen, but the glow was weak and flickering.

The medics rushed in, and he struggled to tell them to attend to her first but they prioritized him and he could only silently pray she'd live.

When he regained control of his limbs the first thing he'd done was search for her. They'd placed her in the room next to his and when he'd seen her, pale and frail but alive he'd stumbled over and tugged her into his arms.

He shook violently as he buried his face into her neck, his fingers bruising her soft skin as he clutched her to him.

"You look better." She murmured and he lifted his head to look at her. She had dark circles beneath her beautiful eyes, and her pink hair was still stained with splotches of blood.

He clenched a shaking hand into her hair. "I could strangle you."

She giggled weakly. "I can't really move so you probably could."

He held her face between his hands. "Don't you ever risk your life for me again, Sakura."

She shut her eyes. "Did you forget you're the Kazekage?"

"Do you think that matters?" Her eyes opened in surprise at his ferocity.

"Gaara—"

"Swear it."

She looked a little angry now, his pink haired wife's famous temper kicking in. "You would have done the same for me."

"It isn't—"

"The same?" She interrupted, her pink brow arched. "No, it isn't. You'd swallowed much more poison than I did. I'm a medic, Gaara and I've told you time and time again I know what my limitations are." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "I was a little hindered but I could still fight. If I hadn't fought them they would have killed us both. I can heal my injuries and others while I fight. If I had been at my full strength they would have been child's play."

He really did want to strangle her.

He kissed her instead.

She pulled him into bed with her and he held her protectively until she fell back asleep.

It had been twenty years since they'd gotten married.

He watched her glide towards him in her silky purple dress, a dress that reminded him of the night they'd first made love. She wore the gold circlet atop her long pink hair, and her small shy smile made his pulse pound as he reached out to embrace her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"You're beautiful." He murmured, his hands tracing up her hips and waist. He touched her gold circlet with a rueful smile.

She buried her face in his throat. "You remember it?"

He nodded. "I remember saying you looked like royalty."

She smiled happily then gave him a bit of a haughty look. "I only look like royalty?" She turned away from him but he clung to her, burying his face into the side of her neck as she playfully struggled.

He snatched her wrists and brought them up over the back of his neck, loving her little shiver. She turned to look over her shoulder at him sultrily. "This brings back memories…" Her voice was low and throaty.

"Aa." His hands roved over her possessively. "Are you ready?"

She hummed and pulled away, laughing a little when he lifted her in his arms. "Romantic as ever, Kazekage-sama." She kissed him quickly. "Now hurry up."

He nodded and smirked, pausing briefly when she leaned up to gently press her lips against the kanji on his forehead. She really had showed him what it meant. With a sift of sand he took them back to their lake to find their sandcastle.

A/N-This was my first fanfiction story. I'm very happy that it received positive reviews. Speaking of which..

Thank you for the lovely reviews. All of you. Myao; I can't believe you read it all in one sitting. Bre Renee; I hope you like my future stories. Lola Bean; gods, I adore that review. I think I might print it & frame it. Anoni mos666; well, you kinda asked for this so here you go. Thank you for liking it so much you asked for more. Minniemousemom(cute name btw); thank you! TheRoseDragon; thank you. I felt like I was taking a little bit of a risk doing something different than the usual Gaasaku story plots & I was very insecure about it. I'm glad you liked it.

To any more reviewers you have my gratitude. Reviews have a huge impact on me. I smile like a fool at each and every single one.