Disclaimer: serialhugger doesn't own Naruto or any copyrights or trademarks related there of. We do however own Sachi, and this particular story. No money has exchanged hands, so please don't sue. Smurf would be royally pissed if she lost her manga collection, etc. in a legal battle.

He's scarred, scary, and a bit insane… so why does she like him so much? And do the reasons really matter? A one-shot.

A/N: This is "talking" and this is 'thinking'. I felt like writing a het Naruto fic… omg! I must be sick! No, not really, I just have a friend who thinks a certain scarred ninja needs some loving. Review if you want. Criticism is welcome, just keep it constructive okay?

Just The Fact That She Does

Sachi was practically purring her satisfaction as she lazily snuggled against the warm body, which lay beside her tangled in the mass of sheets on her bed. Her movements had awakened her bed partner, who was a very light sleeper. Opening his eyes, her lover gathered her in his arms and helped to make their body contact more complete as she continued to sleep.

Looking down at her he had to wonder why she liked him so much. He was badly scarred- not just physically- and the scars he had tended to frighten even his fellow Jounin's. However the Chuunin next to him hadn't been afraid or disgusted. No; instead she had cherished them, letting her soft lips, quick tongue, and clever hands lavish attention over each and every discolored, puckered, mark on his skin.

"… I told you, every part of you deserves to be kissed," murmured, " even the scars…"

His mind drifted back to the activities of a few hours before. Words murmured softly against skin, melding into each other, meaning much and little in the same instant. Mouths, hungry, devouring, nipping, licking, and sucking, hands searching, roaming, fondling, caressing, and teasing. He shivered at the memory.

"You deserve to be loved," whispered.

Did he? He was an interrogation specialist, an expert in the art of torture; his technique was flawless… he enjoyed his work. If she knew the things he was capable of… the things that he did, would she still feel the same way?

'Yes,' his inner-self responded, 'Sachi isn't stupid, or blind. She knows, and she doesn't care.' Still there was that part of him that refused to believe that he deserved her love, or anybody's for that matter. It was that same part of him from which his nightmares sprang, over and over again, not allowing him to leave the past behind.

"Baby?" concern. "Baby, shhh... It's just a dream. It's only a nightmare. It's all over. See? You're okay. Nobody's going to hurt you again," soothing, helping him to forget…

He had learned the art of pain from being tortured himself. It had been a miracle that he had come out of it as well as he had. His tormentors had been very skilled indeed; nearly as skilled as he himself had become. The experience had changed him, altered his perceptions and the way he acted and interacted with others… but that was to be expected. Nobody ever really totally recovered after something so traumatic, and those who claimed that they had were lying through their teeth.

Having Sachi there eased the ache of the emotional and psychological damage. She acted as a kind of ointment for the scars that couldn't be seen. She helped him to forget those dreams, those hellish nightmares, which were really memories that haunted him in his sleep. On those nights that he woke up drenched in sweat, heart racing, screaming, and gasping for air, she held him, comforted him, used her body as a distraction to keep him from retreating into himself, to keep him from undoing the progress he had made since the day he had been brought back to Konohagakure, bloody, shaking, and holding on to life by a very thin thread.

She kept him alive. But why? He was no closer to answering that question than he had been an hour ago when her stirrings had caused him to awaken from his light slumber. Sachi was soft and pretty, she could have any number of villagers, shinobi or not, that she wanted. So why then had she chosen him? What about him had made her come to the decision that she wanted him?

Again he felt her move, shifting her body so that her right thy rested between his and her head lay against the wall of his chest. As she did so she let out a soft sigh, which was followed by a gentle moan at the back of her throat, "Mmm- I love you," came the breathy utterance. There was another soft sleepy sound as she nuzzled at his neck, before falling back into a peaceful slumber.

Ibiki smiled, it wasn't a smirk, or one of the maniacal grins that were usually displayed on his face; it was a real smile. Letting out a gentle sigh of his own he tightened his embrace ever so slightly, and kissed the top of her head, before closing his eyes once again.

'Maybe,' he thought to himself, 'it isn't the why's or the how's of why she loves me that are important. Maybe all that matters is just the fact that she does,' contented once more, the scarred man drifted back to sleep.