A/N: Hey there!

This is a SasuSaku Holiday Story based on the original work "Scrooge McFuck" by May Sage.

Here's the full Summary: Sakura's rude (but still oh-so-hot!) boss loves to see her suffering. But it's one thing when the games they play are strictly professional, and another when her family is involved.

Sasuke can't believe his annoyingly, perfect assistant can be so stubborn. It's when he seeks her, just to give her a piece of his mind, that he learns that he might not know Sakura Haruno that well.

A chapter will be posted every day until Christmas day. I have started this story on the week of my birthday, back on late August this year. I put a lot of work on it, and used most of my lunch breaks ever since to finish this holiday project. At the moment, I'm wrapping the last two chapters (yay!).

The scenes are inspired and based on the book. However, this is a 'Narutofied' version of this lovely story that I'm really fond of. It's a retelling with some twists (I have added original twists and changes to the plot. I have also adapted and changed the background and added extra scenes. Not all scenes are based or happen like the ones in the book).

This is not a regular "everything is perfect" fic. I wanted to re-tell this story because I think there are many aspects and sides of it that should be seen more out here. Not all relationships or families are perfect, no matter your background, your bank account, or where you live (actually it's impossible to be perfect, but that's the beauty of it too, huh?). So, there's no cookie cutter here ;)

The initial chapters are focused primarily on background, then by the middle, the scenes involve more dialogues and actions. I'm not adapting or retelling the full book, so I'm keeping it simple and light, fast-forwarding a little.

In the end, it's just a Christmas/end of the year gift for you guys. My stories are not poetic or deep and my writing is far from great, but I have fun doing it and I'm happy that I can share it. If I can make one person smile reading these two dorks, then it's worthy.

Well, I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do. Happy Reading!

*DISCLAIMER* This is story is based on the book "Scrooge McFuck by May Sage. I do not own Naruto nor Scrooge McFuck. This is a work of fan-fiction and appreciation for both fandoms and content.

Warnings: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

This story was not Beta-read (proofreading was done once, if there's any mistakes, please let me know).

One

Her day started like any other; busy, loud, and insanely annoying.

"Harder, please, harder!"

The ridiculous pleas travelled through the paper-thin wall; the tone, as fake as a three-dollar bill. She wondered if he noticed.

Shuddering away her disgust, she fetched her earphones from her purse, ready to put an end to the fake shit show – that happened in a regular basis – in the other side of that monstrous mahogany door.

A screaming shriek had her cringing. In cue, her fingers worked the tangles of the cord faster. She scrunched up her nose as she readied herself, plugging in her salvation and hitting play at maximum volume.

This is ridiculous, she thought, I don't care what he does – or who he does – just be professional in the workplace for god's sake! (or at least, be discreet. Come. On!).

The third song ended, and the flavor of the week chose that time to step out of the office.

Pulling the micro skirt of her equally micro-dress down, the blonde brushed her fingers over her thighs, trying to smooth the wrinkles away – a clearly useless action. If that bimbo pulled the hem one more millimeter down, her tits would fly up – yes fly! Because those abnormal things are evidently store-bought helium balloons.

Everything was fake; fake hair, fake breasts, fake orgasms.

Don't get her wrong, she didn't doubt his… abilities. Her dear boss could probably please a woman – quite easily – if the way he carried himself with that dark poise said anything.

However, it was still plain and simple: that plastic was faking. Didn't he know?

In the end, she still fought the urge to snicker while taking off her earphones. And to avoid any mishaps, she decided to distract herself with the pile of papers behind her desk.

Tiding, making herself look busy, it was the MO when all the work was done, and she didn't want to be bother with small talk – or more useless tasks his majesty would find for her. She learned her lesson that one time when the flavor of last month tried to get to know her and wouldn't leave until her boss himself told the girl to get lost.

As she pursed her lips, holding the twitchy corners of her mouth in place, the ding of the elevator confirmed that Barbie had left. Her restrained lips were released, and a smothered, half-suppressed laugh escaped her.

"Having fun, Ms. Haruno?"

SHIT.

Sakura twisted in her chair to face the unimpeded doom coming her way. He possibly caught her in her act – or almost laughing at his expense. She didn't know which one would be worse.

He – her boss – had leaned over, his palms on the surface of her desk, eyes narrowed at her.

"Of course, Mr. Uchiha, I always have fun while doing my job." She grinned, that perfect fake smile that was only his (it made him see red, and she knew it!).Mentally, she patted herself for the quick reply and composure.

If he noticed it, he didn't let it show though, as he stood straight and shoved his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. "Did you prepare the reports for my next meeting?"

"Yes, on your desk by the calendar."

"Did you make the lunch reservation that I asked? with Mr. Uzumaki?"

"Done, reservation at 12 pm, the usual place."

"About Neji Hyuga's meeting—"

"He canceled, sir, I emailed you about this thirty minutes ago." You would've known already if you weren't fucking Miss Balloons.

Sakura was never good with names; she'd forget her own if it wasn't so fitting (with the pink hair and all).

When she was six, her mom had told her to stop tiptoeing around people because of that and just ask their names again, 'tell them that you didn't remember names at all, sweetie' she'd say.

For a child, this was as good advice as none, and Sakura took upon herself to get better and stop the other children to make fun of her minute-memory. So, as creative as any six-year-old, she started the nicknames; something that would tie the faces to the names. Other than that, her memory in general, was flawless.

As you probably have noticed, Sakura's nicknames for people could be a little creative, childish, and most of times offensive. But in the end, she'd consider them honest, and that was it, because they wouldn't ever know what she called them in her mind.

Sakura expected another volley of questions, as it was costumery of her infuriating boss who liked to push her buttons every opportunity he had. For the past six months – since she became his Executive Personal Assistance – this was the case.

He tested her in a regular basis. It was frustrating to say the least.

Sakura Haruno had started her career at Uchiha Enterprises when she was nineteen. Yes, that was a long time ago, almost a decade.

In her first year of college, her thirsty for knowledge had her scoring an internship a month before summer. Even though she was majoring in Business not by choice, anything could pick her interest if that would give her the freedom that she'd seek for so long.

Her independence.

At first, she thought that her family influence, as her father was a close friend of the then Uchiha Enterprises' CEO, Fugaku Uchiha, was the reason that she was accepted even earlier than expected.

Although, with the request to return every summer and then the offer to work in a full-time basis, she didn't have to ponder on that anymore. Her accomplishments have been noticed and the hard work that she put in all those hours that she could have been glistening in the summer's sun, in some Caribbean retreat with her friends instead, had surely paid off (and it had nothing – or mostly nothing – to do with her last name).

She couldn't deny that her proximity with the Uchiha family didn't help though. They were there when she was growing up; going to the same expensive, posh, charity events. Mingling in the same Upper East Side social circles. Sending their kids to the same Ivy league schools.

Itachi Uchiha, being almost ten years her senior, barely remembered that.

She had never really talked to him, if not for pleasantries in said events. But not long after she started the internship in his family's company, he took her under his wing, teaching her the ropes when no one else paid attention to the receptionist (slash coffee runner, slash copy girl).

He noticed her potential and good eye for business. She was quickly promoted, going up the ladder, and reaching a more stable and important position within the company. The mentorship lasted until Fugaku himself landed his eyes on her and "fell in love", dare she say it, with her determination and professionalism.

That was something she didn't even know how she accomplished – to get noticed by Fugaku Uchiha, in a good way, that is.

Therefore, to be tested in a regular basis, like a newly hired intern, it was exasperating for Sakura. Still, she didn't let him know that. Sakura made sure to go above and beyond and get all the workload done without any unnecessary questions or conversations.

"Don't forget my coffee, you can bring it in after my two o'clock meeting. The usual."

How could she forget? His usual beverage choice was, without any surprise, black and bitter.

Just like his soul, her mind quipped.

"Of course, sir." Being extra polite was also something she'd do to get on his nerves.

She turned to the pile of reports on her desk again, understanding she had been dismissed and should go back to work. It seemed that Mr. I don't own a hairbrush (or Mr. Sex-Hair? Yeah, probably) had other plans.

He grunted or cleared his throat, she wasn't sure, but the sound announcing his presence snapped her head back to him. She raised a manicured brow expecting more questions, however, when he only smirked back, she cursed internally. She probably poked the bear with a short-stick… now she wouldn't have enough room to run from him.

"Since you'll have a few hours until my coffee break, I would like you to organize the backroom."

Sakura paled.

She'd do anything without a question.

Anything but the backroom.

The backroom was simply an abandoned archive room, full of one-hundred-year-old reports, files and whatnot from times before dear Fugaku. The room was locked and forgotten, until the curious cat that lives in her asked the Uchiha patriarch what was hidden behind that closed door.

He had told her that a lot happened before he took on the 'throne' of the Uchiha Enterprises and until he put everything back where it should be, some skeletons had to be buried, in that room, probably literally if the odor said anything.

Thanks to all the gods and dainties out there, Fugaku never asked her to work on it, he only showed her the mold filled room – which did smell like someone actually had died in there, fueling her paranoid suspicions – and told her to keep it closed until second orders.

The memory itself made her stomach churn. She wasn't afraid of the hard work it would take to put all that mess in order and cleaned up. She could do that with her eyes closed and a hand tied behind her back.

Sakura couldn't stand the smell though.

The triumphant smirk plastered in that stupid handsome face only angered her more, for she knew he'd done that on purpose – punishment for her little act before or even her extra efficient behavior.

She wouldn't step down though. Sakura was brave and didn't run from a challenge. Not one that would make her wipe that smirk off his face if she succeeded. With a new resolve, she schooled her face, giving him that fake, professional smile again and a confirmation nod.

"You have until two then, better hurry up."

Asshole.

"Will do, sir." She replied with the sweetest voice she could muster under such amount of repressed anger.

Just a few more months, she repeated in her mind like a mantra. Just a few more months.

Soon enough, she'd have the money to get the fuck away from him.

His day started with a bang – pun intended.

And like any other day, for the past six months, it became annoying as soon as he stepped outside his office's door.

There she was.

The one holding all the reasons why his mood swings were as violent as they could be nowadays. Not that you were that much better before her, his mind reminded him.

Sakura Haruno was always in his life; at the sidelines, but still present. A bug that would come back again and again, just to make some noise around him until he swatted it away.

Annoying.

Although, that wasn't entirely true. Not anymore.

Their mothers were close friends, and when Mebuki Haruno showed up one day for tea and announced she was having a baby, four-year-old Sasuke demanded it to be a baby boy, for he was in need of a little brother, since his dear Itachi was older and now dedicated most of his time to his studies.

To his chagrin, nine months later, he met Sakura Haruno. The annoying little girl that followed him around every time her mother visited for tea.

She was the princess of the Haruno household; with a bat of her long pale lashes, above those bright green eyes, she'd get anything she wanted in a heartbeat.

More like spoiled brat, tch.

They went to the same schools, though the age difference always separated them. With the years, they grew up apart, but Sasuke still noticed her, lurking in the sidelines, around the same social group. It wasn't difficult; to not notice the famous pink hair of the Haruno Princess.

When he moved abroad for his post-grad, he was certain that once he got back, she'd probably be starting hers (or not, rich woman didn't study that much, he noticed), with a betrothed, and a penthouse somewhere near Fifth Avenue – all courtesy and paid for daddy himself, along with a fat allowance, of course.

You can imagine his surprise, years later, when he was about to receive the CEO mantle of his family's legacy, and no other than Sakura Haruno opened the door for him. And then, she showed him around, including his new office, just ten feet away from her desk.

Why was she even working when she was one of the top socialites of New York was beyond him…

While that could be questioned, he was certain that the position itself had been landed by pure nepotism.

His father had warned him; like first thing, in the first day, in his new position. He said that Sakura (yes his father was in a first name basis with the little witch) was the best he could ever have, and her position was not to be replaced (the word ever was implied with a glare), as there was no other that could fit her shoes.

Trust much?

How could Fugaku Uchiha say something like that about an annoying girl that worried more about her wardrobe and array of expensive shoes than what was going on around her?

It was all so suspicious that Sasuke could only assume that his earlier thought was true. Her father had pulled some strings, his father secured her the position.

At this point, you could only be thinking 'how hypocritical!'

However, Sasuke Uchiha didn't spend a dozen years of his life slaving from a copy-boy to junior assistant, to then take a position abroad during his post-grad, working overtime to reach the director chair.

It was only then, after a couple years in that position, that his father finally made the call that would bring him home.

He worked hard to be where he was now. He sweated; he sacrificed every second of his free time for this. And twelve years later, he was at the top. Finally seen by his father. Finally, worthy.

Being a workaholic himself – by nature or forced into the habit, he didn't know – Sasuke despised freeloaders and slackers.

And for him, Sakura Haruno was nothing but one.

Every morning, she'd catwalk through the hallway in those tight outfits that cost nearly half of her salary, along with that sweet, intriguing fragrance that could only come from a respectful French apothecary. And it went almost without mention, those sexy fuck-me-shoes that would bring her height up to his shoulders – and had four-digit price tags.

It was clear that dear princess still enjoyed daddy's wallet, if only to keep that every women's dream wardrobe. And the question would come up again and again, why is she even working in the first place?

You see, although Sasuke despised such display of futility, he was still a man. And a man would not – could not – ignore the sight of said display. Not when she'd walk swaying her hips like that every morning, entrancing everyone in her way – be it men, women, or dog (yeah he noticed a dog following her once).

Don't get him started with the niceties; the tight skirts and dresses that outlined every curve and dip. The teasing necklines and cleavages showcasing the swell of her breasts. Those high heels that made her legs look impossibly long.

All that made him loath even more her presence.

It seemed, he decided, that it was not enough to secure a position in a prestigious company, one with a fat salary and generous benefit package (he checked), but the little minx had to make him notice her too. She had to provoke him; make him squirm and writhe.

That was why he'd kept her on her toes. Those were all the reasons Sasuke would take any and every opportunity to make sure she understood that this was not some vacation job – that she was no fucking Barbie playing office until something better came up.

Wasn't she the best he could get? He'd make sure to confirm his father's words through and through.

Glancing at the time on his laptop screen, he noticed that it was fifteen past two and his coffee was not sitting on its designated place on his desk.

That old tinge of annoyance, which had been completely forgotten during his meeting, returned. Standing abruptly and pushing his chair away, he marched to her desk, ready to demand an explanation for the tardiness of the only thing he'd asked her the whole day.

Turning at the threshold, he noticed that the room was empty. No signs of pink anywhere.

Then, he remembered. Sasuke had in fact assigned her another task that morning. A task that should be done by now – or so he thought.

He was irritated, alright. She'd mocked him that morning – clearly – and had the audacity to give him that professional smile that dripped displeasure. He hated that smile.

It was his smile though; he had soon confirmed.

It was not the same smile she gave freely to anyone but him. Even the security guard by the elevator or the delivery guys that she had never met before, received a different one; one that tugged her lips up enough to show a dimple on her left cheek. One that reached her eyes and lit up her whole face. One that was far more pleasant than it should be.

It wasn't even the same smile she gave his father for fuck's sake.

For Sasuke, to be ranked in a list lower than his own father – a man feared by most and avoided by all – it was the epitome of indifference; a clear brush off.

Therefore, the punishment. He had sent her to the backroom and to be honest, he was curious to see the progress. Before today, he had never stepped inside of it – even though Itachi had constantly dared him to go inside and check for ghosts during their childhood – and it was difficult to hold on his mask and hide the disgust when he unlocked the door for her a few hours ago.

He stalked through the hallway that continued behind her desk, passing the bathroom door and the kitchenette on his way, then he turned to the last door on that floor – his destination – only to meet a scene that stopped him dead on his tracks.

There on the floor, in all fours, with that round, pert ass high up towards him, stretching the thin material of her tight pencil skirt, was Sakura, sorting through a bunch of yellowish papers.

Sasuke was never a religious man but, Jesus fucking Christ.

God help him.

The reason he was looking for her vanished from his mind entirely, and Sasuke allowed himself a minute or two before clearing his throat to announce his presence. The reaction was instantaneous; the pinkette squeaked and stumbled over the neat pile of documents she had just organized, sending papers flying all around herself.

He heard a tiny whine and then she turned to him; looking over her shoulder, she sent him the deadliest of glares – one that probably challenged only his own.

And because he couldn't just leave like that, he opened his mouth and asked, "Everything ok down there?" The usual smirk that stretched his lips and the amusement present on his voice only served to fuel her anger.

Her face was priceless.

A/N: This will probably be the only chapter with a note at the beginning. I'll be posting the next one sometime tomorrow.

Stay tuned! Reviews are much appreciated. See you next time!

xoxo