our time now

"Can't you limp any faster?" Sasuke grumbled as he waited for his green-eyed girl to catch up to him. She was having a rather difficult time of it on crutches.

"I am limping as fast as I can, buddy!" Sakura huffed. "Jeez. Cripples get no respect these days…"

The black-haired youth examined her critically. "Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked for the last time.

"Yes, Sasuke-kun! Man, could you have a little faith in me? I'm a trooper, a brave little toaster. Dude, I'm the fucking Matrix. I can so handle a Plain White T's concert on crutches. Bring it on."

"Your tenacity will be the death of you," Sasuke sighed.

"And your," Sakura struggled to think of a word, "…Sasuke…-ness…will be the death of you!" She paused. "Wow that was lame. I can usually come up with something better than that. Best two out of three?"

"Not a chance," he smirked. "Come on." He made to grab her wrist as he usually did whenever he wanted to hurry her along, only to realize that such a course of action most likely would not work especially well when she was on crutches.

So instead he came up on her right side, placed his gloved hand on her shoulder, and proceeded to steer her where he wanted to go. Over the years Sakura had grown used to his domineering ways, understanding them as well-meaning, and submitted relatively quietly to his prompting.

They approached the ticket booth, where Sasuke extracted two stiff paper slips from his wallet and handed them to the attendant. As they walked inside, Sakura sulked, "I can't believe I broke my leg two days before the concert. Do I have suckish timing or what? Stupid bleachers. Stupid leg. Stupid…stupid. Ugh."

"It's your own fault," Sasuke pointed out mercilessly, even as he gently turned her toward where their seats where. "You shouldn't have been jumping around on the bleachers, moron. What were you thinking?"

"That you just set a track record and that I was happy and that I wanted to happy-dance and that was basically the extent of it," Sakura admitted casually as Sasuke helped her into a front-row seat. "You'd think people would know to make bleachers happy-dance-proof…"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. "Only you would think of something like that."

"Yeah, well…screw you, hippie."

"What the hell?" Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

"I have no idea. God, I'm losing my edge. Must come up with wittier comebacks…oh! But you know what I figured out?" Sakura queried excitedly.

"That eating chap-stick is disgusting and bad for your health?" Sasuke deadpanned.

The girl beside him scowled. "It was one time, okay? I was hungry during Calculus and there was nothing else to eat in my purse. Besides, it was watermelon-flavored. But anyway. I figured out why you hardly ever smile or laugh, Sasuke-kun. It's because you're afraid of wrinkles, isn't it? Am I smart or what?"

"…You're just really lucky you're pretty," her companion muttered, rubbing his temples.

She grinned at him. "You think I'm pretty?"

"…"

"It's okay, Sasuke-kun, don't be embarrassed. I think you're pretty, too."

"You're annoying," he groused.

Sakura shifted closer to settle her head on his shoulder. "So are you. And I love you anyway."

Her voice was still light and teasing, yet it had taken on a strange quality. Trying to occupy himself, Sasuke extracted Sakura's hand from where he had noticed it shoved in the pocket of her jacket. It was cold and as small as a child's, her fingernails painted rainbow colors.

"You should have worn gloves," he observed. "You know it's always cold in here."

Sakura didn't appear to hear him. "Actually…I've loved you for a long time."

Sasuke froze and strained to hear her quiet voice.

"D'you remember, in kindergarten? I'd follow you everywhere, do everything you did—or try to, anyway. I wrote you poetry, too. It was complete crap, of course. I remember there was this one part about how 'your hair looks like an adorable duck' or whatever. Or maybe it was a chicken…yeah, it might have been a chicken…but wait…"

She was rambling and going off on tangents, as Sasuke knew her to do when she was very nervous. Her face was carefully pressed into his neck, hiding her expression from his view.

"…Anyway, though. I guess I just…I love you. Like, a lot. And tomorrow morning I'm going to seriously regret spilling my guts like this, but…I dunno. I just wanted to like, get it off my chest, you know?"

She pulled away from Sasuke and sat up, her eyes averted. "So, um, yeah. Now that I've bared my soul, I'm gonna go get a hot dog."

She moved to grab her crutches and stand up when Sasuke realized that he was still holding her hand. He used it to tug her back down and anchor her to him. "Don't."

She blinked at him. "Don't get a hot dog? What, do you think I'm fat?"

He shook his head, his own eyes averted. For the first time in a long time, he was trying to look anywhere but at her; at his angel girl with her starlight-starbright eyes and endearingly familiar face. "Don't regret telling me."

His words came out stilted, halting. "Don't…don't ever regret telling me anything, okay? And especially…please…I. I hope you never regret loving me."

Sasuke could feel her staring at him. Luckily, the concert-goers around then were too preoccupied to witness the little drama unfolding. "Sasuke-kun…I'll never regret loving you. Stupid-head," she added affectionately.

"Moron," he returned fondly, before adding impulsively, "Then…there's one more thing you can't regret."

Sakura shrugged. "Wha—?"

He kissed her then, gently but firmly, their lips and hands the only points of contact between them. It was an ephemeral moment; merely two seconds later Sasuke pulled away, the tips of his ears burning red.

Sakura also blushed. "O-oh. Well, um. Yeah, definitely not gonna regret that. Ah…are you going to regret that?"

"No," Sasuke mumbled.

"Er, well then. Cool. So…yeah…"

She was saved from having to continue the increasingly awkward conversation as the band finally came on, immediately launching into Our Time Now.

…

This is the dance for all the lovers

Taking a chance on one another

Finally it's our time now

Somewhere in the middle of the fifth song, Sakura once again nestled herself into Sasuke's side. "Sasuke-kun?"

"Hn."

"Thank you for using your Mafia connections to get us front-row seats," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

"Sakura, I told you—" he began.

She leaned in very close to his face, her mascara-stiff eyelashes dragging slowly along his jaw. Then she leaned back and watched Sasuke's face heat up.

"I can make you blush!" she exclaimed delightedly.

"Shut up!" the boy beside her snapped, slumping low in his seat, his arms crossed and his expression sullen.

Sakura poked his cheek. "Sasuke-kun, Sasuke-kun, don't be mad. You love me, remember?"

"I never said that," he pointed out, slouching down even further.

"Sure you didn't," Sakura waved a hand. "But you do, don't you? Right?" Insecurity flashed over her face.

Sasuke gave her a sidelong glance. "Would I put up with you if I didn't?"

Her face brightened. "That's true. Hey…" she added flirtatiously, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes, "d'you wanna go back to my place?"

Sasuke's face turned fifteen shades of red.

"…I have a coupon to Build-A-Bear workshop that I wanna go get!" she finished, her eyes lighting up. "I wanna make a bear…and call him Sasu-chan…maybe put him in a nice pink sweater…oh! And when you squeeze him, he can say 'I'm afraid of wrinkles!' It's brilliant! Don't you think it's brilliant, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke could only stare at her.

"It's okay, Sasuke-kun," she assured him. "Take your time. I'm sure you're much too astounded by my genius-ness to formulate a response right now."

Sasuke opened his mouth before thinking better of it. He shook his head, pulled her to him, and laughed quietly into her hair.

So um, yeah. As is abundantly clear, I had absolutely no idea how to end this. Apologies, apologies.

Also...Merry Christmas, everyone! Missa in particular, ofcourseofcourse. And er, what's that politically correct phrase? Ah...Happy Holidays, I believe. So yes. Happy Holidays! Just in case, you know, you're (whoever that might entail) not Christian. Come to think of it, I myself am actually not Christian, but I'm gonna stop rambling now. Yes.

OH. Yeah. This is they sequel to hey angel girl. Yes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Or the Plain White T's. Or Build-a-Bear Workshop. It's all very depressing, really.