Hiya.

This was originally the first chapter in a series of one-shots of the same name that I eventually decided against doing. Anything that restricts me usually ends up in the bin. :) This also serves as a bit of a distraction from my other fics... and I can't concentrate on them right now, lol. :)

Warning: very sappy. Enter at your own risk. Enjoy. ^_^

…
Stories of You
…

He was always at home in the desert. I always thought of him like some Arabian Prince, commanding troops, riding camels, and being fanned under some oversized umbrella. He would be sipping on some exotic drink and a servant would be hovering around, a tray of food waiting for his inspection.
There would be beautiful women too, of course, mostly dancers, performing for his entertainment. They would dance for him, and to him; it was the closest they were allowed to come to being able to seduce him.
He would be fussy about who shared his bed too, so much so that, in my fantasies, he wouldn't need to scan a crowd to notice me immediately. My pink hair stood out, but he would be drawn to my green eyes – as vibrant as his crimson hair, and like a magnet, drawing him in.
The crowd would part and all eyes would follow him as he strode confidently up to me. He wouldn't need to speak, I would already know. But his voice, deep and husky, and resonating with authority, would ask me anyway – that was what a gentleman did, after all.
His hand on my waist, his eyes on mine; the rest of the world would just fall away. And meeting me would change his world; from that moment on, I would be the only woman that would be allowed to seduce him.
–

It always started out the same way: Naruto would return from his travels with stories about his exploits and everyone would become enrapt from the first word out of his mouth. They ranged from spending time in quarantine because of some exotic parasite he'd contracted, to dancing with royalty in some faraway place (Africa, Turkey, Spain… wherever). Whether the story was boring or exciting didn't matter, he made it sound like some unparalleled, glamorous adventure nonetheless.

Sakura Haruno worked in the Konoha hospital and volunteered her time at the local animal shelter, but it was at the old folk's home (she didn't remember why she'd gone there – had to be something to do with her mentor, Tsunade Senju), that she'd first met the strange blonde. He reminded her of another blonde she hadn't spoken to for years.

And just like everyone else, Sakura loved Naruto's stories. But there was one tale in particular that got her heart racing; it was the story of a soldier (the son of some Sultan, or Maharaja… or whatever). Or maybe it was an Amir. Point: he'd enlisted to get away from his father, and then in his absence the old man had died, and the rest of his family was more than happy to take the family fortune, leaving him with nothing.

Gaara...

His name sounded so... delicious. Sakura had only a vague idea of what he looked like, from an old, worn out photo, but there was something about him... It was weird to feel this connected with someone she'd never met, never communicated with in anyway... Both Naruto and Sasuke had served with him for six months before the blonde came out of a two week coma; due to his injuries, Naruto was promptly discharged from the army, with honours. Apparently, he'd been a gallant hero... and despite the numerous tales about his other travels, he still refused to talk about what had happened. Sakura's raven haired, childhood friend was overseas right now, but with Gaara, in Afghanistan or wherever. He had been for over a year.

Naruto meanwhile, had taken his godfather up on his offer to take him around the world. And the stories continued.

"Naruto, sit up straight," Sakura roused on him and he gave her a sheepish grin. The old folks listening intently to his current story – about some security woman in an international airport, who had frisked him a little too thoroughly – gave her a funny look for interrupting. A few minutes later, the overzealous security officer turned out to have been an undercover Interpol agent, and Naruto's description matched that of some mad bomber who'd been spotted in the area. Then the suave Namikaze heir had proceeded to get her phone number and a promise of "fun" for the next time he was in the country. Somehow, he'd convinced her that it was fair restitution for what had happened. Like having sex with him was practically her civic duty.

He had mad skills.

Whether or not this was appropriate talk in an old folk's home, she wasn't sure of though.

But Sakura clapped along with the old folks and smirked at the blonde when he grinned at her. "Nice," she said. "Now if only I had half of your confidence, I might've had a date at Tenten and Neji's wedding last month, and not looked like such a dorkus."

He just grinned. An hour later, he was on a plane to Kami knew where, and Sakura found that she quite liked it when she left him speechless. He wasn't the type to let a comment like that hanging.

And then Naruto returned a month later with bad news: Sasuke's unit had been hit by roadside bombs and there were casualties. Sakura cried for days, unable to stop herself, and the relief at hearing he was okay was overpowered by the name at the top of the list of the missing. The name that belonged to the man she'd found herself daydreaming about from the moment Naruto first mentioned him (which only amplified once he gave her that photograph).

She had fallen in love with a dead man.

…

"Teme says he's probably still alive," Naruto said a few weeks later.

Sakura frowned at him. "Who?"

The blonde smirked at her. "You know who."

"Gaara?"

"Mm hm."

"Why are you just telling me this now?" She screamed, jumping up and throwing him an angry glare.

"Teme just told me," Naruto insisted, holding up his phone so Sakura could see the message.

She slumped, sitting back down. "Oh."

…

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"About what, Sakura-chan?"

She fought the urge to hit him; she was pretty sure attacking a war hero would get her a one-way ticket to prison. "Gaara!" She snapped.

"Oh right, him." Naruto looked up at her. "Teme's on it."

She rolled her eyes. "Why am I not comforted by that thought?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno."

…

"Naruto..."

"Yeah Sakura-chan?"

"What is Gaara like?"

"I dunno – how am I supposed to know?"

"..."

"Oh right." Naruto frowned at his friend. "He's kind of like teme, except with the ability to carry a conversation."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, he doesn't just point and grunt like the stupid chicken arse does."

"What does he do?"

"..."

"Uh, Naruto?"

"He just grunts."

…

It was strange to her, how far she'd fallen for someone she'd never even met. Sometimes, she wondered if this wasn't all just another one of Naruto's stories, and she was caught in the middle of some kind of international spy game, or a simple venture that, knowing her blonde friend, would turn out to be some kind of international spy game anyway – or something like it. She wasn't sure which would be worse. But then she'd look at his picture again, and her feelings would threaten to suffocate her. She had to know him. There was nothing complicated about it, about this need.

Sasuke called Naruto a day later – he'd been given special permission to take a leave of absence from his unit, and was heading back into the bomb zone. Sakura wasn't sure what he meant by that, but knew it would be a while before he could call them again and therefore before she found out anything about Gaara. She decided to take up praying as a way of staying sane.

She had kept the photograph of Gaara close from the moment Naruto gave it to her, but right now, she felt unusually possessive of it. Naruto had decided to stay in Konoha with her, until Sasuke found Gaara, and she took advantage of that, hounding him for information every day. Naruto didn't mind, coming to see her when her shift at the hospital was over, and making the coffee for her, instead of the other way around.

"Don't worry," Naruto said, sitting down next to her on the couch in the break room. "Teme's gonna bring him back – and anyway, someone as pretty as you, Gaara would definitely want to meet you."

Sakura blushed profusely, her hand going to the picture of the redhead currently inside her shirt. Realising what Naruto had just said, she frowned at the blonde. "How does he know what I look like?"

"I gave him a photo of you too."

"..."

"Did I forget to tell you that?"

She snorted. "Idiot."

"You got that right."

Sakura giggled at that.

Naruto jumped at the sound of his phone going off. "It's from teme," he said, and scanned through the message quickly. Sakura was just about to hit him over the head and demand answers when Naruto grinned up at her. "He's found him."

…

Somehow, I always imagined she was one of those Mother Theresa types, helping the helpless, saving lives every day, and never asking to be thanked. She was so grounded, unpretentious, and beautiful at the same time. And in my fantasies, no-one else was allowed to call her Sakura with such familiarity, or gaze on her for hours on end, in post-coital bliss. No-one else called her by the nickname I'd been dying to shower her with... mitsu. And she wouldn't mind it when I brushed her skin against mine, trying to invoke the colours of her, that such a sensation would create.
She was the colour of blush when she blushed, her skin the colour of snow, complimented by her carnation pink hair and eyes of a vibrant, apple green. And her smile would be Persian rose, while her laugh would remind me of cerise, her scent would make me think of the colour fandango, and holding her brought such contentment I'd never known.
I fantasised about how she would welcome me into her home, and we'd build a family together – one that I could never have imagined to be so beautiful, and bring purpose into my life. She was my angel, my saving grace, and the reason I closed my eyes to dream.
And I often fell asleep with her name on my lips.
–

He woke to the pain; it always roused him. Someone had taken a sharp, yet unsterilized blade to his body but had neglected to anaesthetise him properly. He could feel it slicing into him, the dirt caked to the blade made him wish he'd bit hit by flying debris from a roadside bomb in a country where the word "sterile" wasn't foreign.

Gaara passed out again.

He dreamt of her... again.

When he finally woke up again, it was amidst a seizure, the spasms of pain slowly numbing his body.

And he wondered if it had been another dream... until he fell asleep again.

And again, he would dream of her: the girl with the pink hair. Naruto had given him a photograph of the woman he wouldn't stop talking about, and offered to hook them up when they got home, but the redhead didn't think he'd be going back, not this time. The blonde had Konoha, but Gaara didn't have anywhere. His family wouldn't be waiting for him.

"But that's why you have to come back with me Gaara," Naruto had told him. "To make a new family."

And perhaps the pink haired girl, Sakura, would be waiting for him.

Still drowsy, Gaara twitched, opening his eyes slowly. Familiar raven hair blurred his vision and for the first time in weeks, the redhead smiled.

"Stop freaking me out," Sasuke warned. "I get enough of that grimace when I look in the mirror."

"..."

"Seriously, stop smiling at me."

"Hm."

"I'm going to turn around and leave you to the mercy of these pathetic excuses for doctors if you don't wipe that grin off your face, right now."

Sasuke just expressed himself... in a sentence of all things!

Forcing the smile away from his face – because he knew very well that Sasuke always meant every word he ever said – Gaara groaned, trying to sit up.

"You're tied to the bed," his raven haired friend deigned to inform him.

Gaara let out an exasperated sigh. "When can I leave?"

"When you chew your way out of those restraints."

The redhead scowled at him.

"Fine, I'll look for something sharp to cut it with."

That was quite a lot of talking for the Uchiha. Gaara worried the man had a concussion or something. He was acting... weird. As his friend scrounged around for a utensil to free him with, Gaara stared at the tarpaulin that served as a ceiling. He wasn't ungrateful for the third world classed medical care – he figured the other option would be death, and despite the pain, he did prefer this outcome. It just annoyed him more than he could ever properly explain.

Growing up with everything he'd ever needed or wanted at his fingertips was the most probable cause. Still, he felt vindictive. "Hurry up," he grunted.

Sasuke made a distinctly unimpressed sound at the back of his throat before ripping into the restraints. He knew that if they stuck around, there would be question after question, and before the borders closed again, he needed to smuggle Gaara back out of the country. Otherwise, they could be here for days, if not weeks, before another opportunity presented itself. So Sasuke felt no guilt in sneaking out a patient that probably wasn't really stable enough to be moved. The best medical care he could get him to was half a world away, and the redhead would just have to buck up and deal with the conditions along the way.

Gaara hoped the so-called doctors here got shot to hell and had to be patched up by some random field trained medic with no idea how to staunch bleeding... see how they liked it.

Bastards.

...

Water on his face.

"What was that for?"

Sasuke's voice appeared out of the darkness of his vision. "You fell asleep again."

"That's what one does when they're too tired to stay awake."

"Well then, stay awake."

"Hm?"

"I'm bored."

"Hn."

"Don't steal my trademark monosyllable, baka."

"Then let me sleep."

The world shook, and Gaara realised they were in the back of a plane. Probably military.

"Naruto's going to kill you for worrying him like this," the Uchiha grunted, perhaps in an attempt to keep Gaara awake.

Right, Naruto...

Gaara closed his eyes defiantly and tried to drift off, Sakura's name falling from his lips.

...

Hours later, the shifting and rattling of plane holding him up, woke him up.

"You did it again."

Gaara looked around. He could make out shapes and colours now. "Where am I?"

"In the hold of a cargo plane."

Canvas seats? Check. Cargo pallets? Check. Gaara blinked heavily, and a frustrated looking Sasuke finally came into view. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"It's called clothes."

"It's a uniform."

"Hn."

"Why are you wearing an air force uniform?"

"..."

"Well, you look... official."

Sasuke looked down at his temporary uniform and grunted. "I look like an idiot in this."

"That's because you are an idiot."

"Watch it Sabaku, or I might just drop you out of the sky."

Gaara smiled, before resettling, to fall asleep again... and Sakura's name fell from his lips again.

...

"It's Sakura, isn't it?"

"Hm?"

"That blonde baka told you about her, and now you're completely infatuated."

"..."

"Did you get a sex change in that triage tent, or something?"

"Hm?"

"Never mind." Sasuke shifted uncomfortably. "She knows all about you too."

The smile on Gaara's face widened.

"I warned you not to smile at me."

Gaara chuckled. "And here I was thinking you came to get me to ask me on a date."

"Bite me."

"Sorry, I don't swing that way."

Sasuke grunted and decided just to let that go. "I don't know how you do it," he said, after a few minutes of silence, and racking his mind for something else to say.

"Hm?"

"Deal with the fact that your family hates you."

"Family is what you make of it."

"Now you sound like the dobe – you'd be better off with that sex change."

"Hm."

"I suppose you should just stay the way you are... Sakura is very family orientated after all."

He was teasing him for liking someone he'd never met.

Gaara just smirked. "If anyone's had a transplant, it's you. You can't shut up, can you?"

Sasuke groaned. "Go back to sleep – I don't want to talk to you anymore."

…

She wasn't there when I woke up again. Instead, I was met with silence, darkness, and pain.
But she was coming; I could feel her. The mesh of the colours, blush, snow, carnation pink, vibrant apple green, Persian rose, cerise, and, fandango filled my vision, and falling asleep again became less of a chore.
–

The flight to Tokyo couldn't end fast enough. Sakura was far more excited than Naruto it seemed, to finally hit ground and take the first available taxi to the private hospital that Tsunade Senju worked at – knowing her former pinkette, personal intern was on the first flight out of Konoha, the blonde had decided to take charge of Gaara's care.

Oh, and Naruto was her godson, so there was that too...

Sakura dragged the knucklehead through the doors, dug her nails into his arm (and boy did he complain about that!) as the elevator took forever, and didn't wait for him to keep up before fast-walking toward the Intensive Care Unit. A head of raven hair caught her attention and she threw her arms around Sasuke, grateful to see him, for the first time in over a year.

Uncharacteristically, he didn't seem to mind, and even hugged her back. Sasuke had never talked so much in his life; he told them what had happened, going into detail, despite his desire to just shut up and make a written report instead. But he cared about Sakura, and she deserved to hear it from him instead of second or third hand after the 'man upstairs' had edited the final copy.

The redhead was of course, still in the Intensive Care Unit when Sasuke did finally shut up, so Sakura waited nervously with her childhood friends in the waiting room, for her mentor to emerge from surgery. The on-site triage doctors had stabilized Gaara, but it seemed he did indeed need the talents of her shishou – not to mention the rest of the staff at the largest hospital in Tokyo. Apparently, Gaara's wounds had opened up somewhere over the Atlantic, and Tsunade had made sure to be the on-call surgeon when he'd come in.

"Can he have visitors?" Naruto asked immediately, once Tsunade had made her way to them.

"Not yet," Tsunade said, ignoring his colourful words at this. "In a few hours."

So that was how Sakura found herself falling asleep, her head in Sasuke's lap and feet stretched over Naruto's legs. Worrying exhausted her but when she finally felt Sasuke's hands nudging her awake, she felt like she hadn't gotten any sleep at all.

"We can go in now," he whispered, and Sakura looked up at him, all bleary eyed. He was still in the same position – ever the poser – but Naruto had apparently anxiously moved about almost the entire time.

Sakura nodded. "S-sure."

She followed him sleepily, since Naruto had bolted ahead of them and ran into Gaara's private room first. All her worry had filtered out of her body while she slept and now she was just incredibly nervous. She half hid behind Sasuke as Naruto half threw himself at the now conscious redhead.

"Get off of him, you dobe," Sasuke snapped. "You're suffocating him."

Dazedly, Naruto obediently backed off. But now he was talking, babbling and breathless.

Gaara's eyes seemed to be focused on the pinkette however; as though he was still dreaming, he blinked heavily and his lips parted slightly in surprise.

"Oh yeah," Naruto said, once he'd stopped babbling about how he had been so worried, and noticed his friends staring at each other. "Gaara, this is Sakura." He grabbed Sakura and pulled her toward the hospital bed. "And Sakura, this is Gaara."

"Hi," she said, smiling lightly.

He nodded. "Hello."

"I'm hungry," Sasuke said suddenly.

"Then go eat," Naruto waved at him.

Groaning, Sasuke grabbed the baka by his wrist. "You're hungry too."

"Uh... sure."

The Uchiha dragged his best friend from the room and promptly closed the door behind them.

Sakura's eyes flickered over Gaara's bed and the chair next to it, trying to decide the best place to sit as she swallowed heavily, gripping the hem of her shirt to keep her hands from shaking uncontrollably. "I, um... I've heard a lot about you," she said lamely.

He nodded again, unsure what to say – he wasn't very good at this.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura walked up to his bed, still too nervous to choose where to sit. "Um, to extend on Naruto's introductions, I'm Sakura Haruno, but you can just call me Sakura."

"Call me Gaara," he said huskily, leaving out his family name. She understood, having heard some of the story from Naruto, so didn't press the matter.

Sakura smiled. "I have to say, you're even better looking than your pic–"

She cut herself off, slapping her hands over her mouth, as she realised what she'd just said. Gaara didn't look insulted though; he smirked at her.

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes at his obvious smugness. "Naruto's right – you're just as arrogant as Sasuke."

This time, she felt he had it coming.

Gaara lost the smirk, his lips softening into a genuine smile.

She decided to change the subject. "Shishou said she wanted you to stay in the hospital for a few days, right?" Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow and she clarified: "Tsunade-sama is my mentor and former teacher."

"Teacher?"

Sakura smiled. "She taught me everything I know about medicine, and jujutsu."

And just like that, her nervousness evaporated; she finally decided where to sit, taking the chair next to his bed. He wanted to know more about her, and she suddenly couldn't stop talking. She babbled when she was excited, nervous, or worried, and this was no exception. Sakura told him all about her family, her friends, and her job – which was more of a calling to her, then a career – and her plans for the future. She learnt that Gaara had never felt like he belonged anywhere, and that Naruto and Sasuke were actually his only friends.

They talked for over an hour before Sakura's babbling finally tired him out; this time, when the redhead drifted off, a warm hand entwined with his, and there was no longer any pain.

...

At first, I was worried he wouldn't know who I was. I could only hold my breath, count to ten, think about all those times my fantasy had him dressed in exotic garb, and being fanned... and I would calm down. He was here, I was here, and the rest of the room just fell away.
We were alone but never lonely: not anymore.
–

Sakura rearranged the flowers in his vase unnecessarily. She'd bought them from the little shop on the ground floor – it was the closest place, and she had no intention of leaving the hospital any time soon. Tokyo really did have better nurses and doctors than Konoha, and even though she would eventually have to catch that direct flight home, it felt nice to have been here when Gaara finally woke. He'd fallen asleep again, but she didn't care. Naruto had gone home for a shower – at Sasuke's insistence – and Sasuke was off double checking that his fiancee still wanted to marry him. The woman had the patience of a saint if she was still sticking around for the wayward Uchiha. He was such an idiot when it came to love.

So Sakura was alone with Gaara; she was nervous but excited that she had her whole life to figure him out. Hopefully: she was banking on it. It was a few hours before watching him sleep finally struck her as a creepy thing to do, and she settled herself, soon falling asleep in the armchair by Gaara's bedside.

She didn't remember her dream, only that it was rather pleasant. The next thing she knew, his hand was squeezing hers, and her sleep addled brain didn't register at first that he was also talking.

"Sakura?"

"Hm." She lifted her head, which had conveniently fallen to the bed (how the hell had she managed that, from the armchair?), and inhaled deeply. "What's going on?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

"Hm?"

Gaara looked toward the door as Sakura rubbed her sleepy eyes. "They left," she said, yawning. "But they'll be back."

"But you stayed."

Sakura nodded. "I wanted to be here when you woke up again."

He just smiled at her, and after a few moments of staring at him, she remembered he was still holding her hand.

"I..." Sakura instinctively gripped his hand tighter. "I've been going over it in my head, on the flight over here, all the things I wanted to say." She took a deep breath, avoiding his penetrating gaze as she stared at their interlocking fingers – it was now or never. "It's so weird to have feelings for someone I've never met. I mean, I was a kid once, so I had the whole crushing on celebrities things all kids go through, but with you... well, I can't explain it. I probably sound like such a dorkus saying this, but..."

Gaara could hardly believe what he was hearing as she continued to ramble. He'd been an outcast for so long, that even Naruto and Sasuke hadn't been able to get him out of his self-imposed shell. Sure, he considered them as good as family, but Sakura was talking about having romantic feelings – how was that possible, with someone he'd only just met? He didn't understand his own feelings, let alone her declaration. Everything she was saying, he was already thinking, and it got him wondering: what were the chances? He'd known Naruto and Sasuke for a few years now, and though the latter was so much like himself, the former was the one who'd given him that first indication of acceptance.

Talking about the pink haired girl who Naruto thought would look "so cute" next to Gaara... it sounded so much like what Sakura was now relaying to the redhead – like Naruto had a crystal ball and just knew they were meant to be together.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

"You ramble when you're nervous," Gaara interrupted the girl still holding his hand, remembering this titbit from Naruto.

Sakura blushed. "A-and when I like someone."

"You don't know me," he said, repeating the worry in his head he'd had since becoming infatuated (according to Sasuke) with the pinkette. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"But I do like you." She sounded so sincere, so determined; it was cute.

"You don't know that," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to pummel him, when his smirk defused her anger. She shrugged her shoulders, nervous again. "There's only one way to find out."

Now, Sakura wasn't a particularly impulsive person (there was that incident years ago, with Sasuke, but under the threat of severe pain and death, all who knew about it would never speak of it again), but she found herself initiating her first kiss with the redhead. Kissing was an art... and when it was fuelled by feelings rather than simply lust, there was a big difference. Sakura felt it; the warmth that spread through her lips, and left her with heat that coursed through her without pooling between her thighs was proof that this was so much more than finding Gaara attractive. He responded in kind, his fingers gripping the front of her shirt as she hovered over him, continuing her gentle assault on his mouth.

'He mustn't be in a lot of pain, after all,' she thought – he'd winced when he tried to embrace her properly.

So she pulled away, realising in that moment, that they were both breathless... yeah, she was looking forward to sleeping with him, regardless. Sakura cleared her throat as Gaara forced himself to breathe evenly.

"Well," she said. "That was... amazing."

Gaara nodded, a light blush adorning his cheeks, and she realised a moment later that she was still hovering over him. His fingers had a good hold on her shirt, but she didn't want to care about that, other than the fact that she was now getting a cramp in her leg.

Sakura licked her lips, prying herself away from him, but sat back on his bed, fighting her own blush.

"One of us needs to say something," she said breathlessly, "and preferably before I perfect my tomato impersonation."

Gaara took her hand again. "I like you too."

Sakura felt like the world had just started spinning, like the last billion or so years it had just been standing still. Yeah, she was in trouble...

"Yeah?"

He nodded and Sakura leant in for another kiss – this one was even better.

When she finally pulled away again, she stood up and let go of his hand. "I'm going to collect your things from the nurses."

"Huh?" He gave her a quizzical stare that threatened to buckle her legs.

Sakura stopped at the door and turned to give him a cheeky smile. "Oh, didn't shishou tell you? You're coming home with me."

Well, she hadn't planned to have Gaara move in with her, but the fact that his blush had darkened to the same shade of his hair was worth the tease. She could get used to this.

...

Are you an illusion? Are you my dream come true, or am I still sleeping? Are your arms around me even real? I had imagined this day for months, for so long, that it was a surprise not to be alien to me. How can fantasy compare to reality? How could it possibly ever prepare me? Expectations don't fall short, the story book romance I've always hoped for has opened for me and in the end, and the only thing that's left for me to do is to believe. Believe and know, that this was always meant to be.

…
X X X
…

Much more sappy than I'd intended. And like I said, it was originally just the first chapter in a planned out series of one-shots (which is why it's so different from what I normally write). I need to get back to just writing without thinking things all the way through. My poor brain could use the break, lol. :)

'Mitsu' means 'nectar' or 'honey'.

R&R.