Me and My Gangster

So I'm kind-of-dating this guy, right? Uchiha Sasuke. Outrageously hot, pretty quiet… did I mention outrageously hot? It's worth repeating.

Oh, and he's a gangster.

Just, you know, throwing that out there.

He saved me from a couple of punks one day on the subway—which, for different reasons, we both ride at four A.M. Me, because I have the early shift at the hospital. (Fun.) Him?

No clue. The most he'll tell me about it is "Business."

(Which I take to mean shanking people in dark alleys. An intuitive leap, there.)

Anyway. So, at an ungodly hour of the morning, we can be found on the subway, with me chattering away at him in that special, endearing way of mine, and him nodding and making the occasional dry comment.

Yeaahh. Good times. (No, seriously.)

Once he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. I was seriously this close to hyperventilating. He looks like an angel when he sleeps, all peaceful and perfect. (A gangster angel. Yeah, man.)

Two women sitting across from us started whispering about "that adorable couple over there."

Kinda made my day, right there.

It isn't strictly a subway romance, though. Sometimes I'll finish my shift at the hospital and find him lounging outside, hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he'll say, and start walking in some random direction. He doesn't look back to see if I follow him. He doesn't need to.

(Oh, don't even think about giving me that look. You'd follow him too. Anywhere. He's like Peter Pan. And, anyway, have you seen this kid?)

We'll go out to lunch, or a movie, or a museum exhibit. A baseball game, if there's one playing.

Sometimes we just walk. If I'm really, reallyreallyreally lucky, he'll let me hold his hand.

Let me tell you something, kids. There is no drug, not one in existence that can get you as high as walking down the streets of Chicago, holding hands with your sexy gangster boyfriend.

I'll give you a moment for that to sink in.

"So, seriously." Today Sasuke is walking me back to my apartment after lunch at very nice Italian place. (Italian restaurants still make me think of gangs. And breadsticks. Mmm, breadsticks.)

It's raining steadily, but Sasuke's umbrella keeps us from getting wet. (Which is, you know, what an umbrella is intended to do. Er. ... Believe it or not, some people are skeptical that I earned my medical degree. Crazy, right? I'm the smartest cookie in the jar, thank you very much. ... Mmm, cookies.)

He shakes his head. "You are the silliest…" he doesn't even seem able to finish the sentence.

I tug at his sleeve. "Seriously! We should join the European Union. Our currency will become more valuable."

He gives me a look, but the set of his mouth betrays his amusement. "There's a slight problem concerning the fact that the United States is not, in fact, part of Europe."

I grin triumphantly. "But that's where we get them! I mean, they're Europeans, for Chrissake. They're all about tolerance. So they'd have to tolerate us joining. They can't discriminate against us just because we're not on their continent! It's…" I think for a moment, "continental discrimination! Not cool."

Sasuke sighs. "You take Stephen Colbert too seriously."

If it wouldn't be sacrilege to hurt Sasuke's face, I would smack him for saying such blasphemous things. The nerve.

Still, I stiffen, offended on a deep and personal level. "Stephen Colbert can never be taken too seriously. That kid is my hero."

He opens his mouth to reply, but catches sight of his (nauseatingly expensive) watch. "Shit, I have to go." He frowns. "Will you be okay from here?"

"Sure," I reply easily, though I'm disappointed that he has to leave. It's not even fair, either; he gets to go be gangster. I get to go home and watch House re-runs. Maybe clean my bathroom if I'm feeling audacious.

(I probably won't be feeling audacious. I haven't felt audacious for the past, ohhh, three months now. I don't open the cupboard under my sink anymore. There's mold down there that looks like it's going to eat me.

It's scary, man.)

He tries to give me the umbrella, but I don't take it. "Sasuke. Be rational. You're wearing an Armani suit; I'm wearing jeans and a sweatshirt." (Because that's how I roll, son. The girl running the restaurant didn't seem to approve of my attire. Madness. But she saw my ring, and the look on Sasuke's face, and, well, the story tells itself.) "My walk from here is like, two minutes. Yours is, what, ten at least? Take the umbrella."

He doesn't look happy, but if there's one thing Sasuke is, it's logical. (Well, actually, it's gorgeous. But.) He keeps the umbrella.

On the tips of my toes, I peck him on the lips. "See you tomorrow?"

He nods, flashes me an almost-smile. "Yeah."

Then he hurries away through the rain.

As I slosh back to my apartment, I notice a guy following me. Menacingly. I've seen enough movies to know that this is when the suspenseful music sets in.

I walk faster, but then another one approaches me from the front, and I am subsequently herded into a conveniently located dark alley.

Eff my life.

I find myself backed up against a wall, being closed in on by two… less-than-benevolent-looking men. One, the first, is short and squat, kind of teapot-shaped. The other is taller and bonier, with the long fingers of a pianist. Or someone suited to strangling people. You know.

Something skitters by my feet. I almost scream. For some reason, I'm more concerned about the rats than the thugs. I kind of… don't believe this is happening to me. I am not That Girl That Gets Offed in an Alley. TGTGOA for short.

(Of course, I don't think anyone considers themselves to be "That Girl That Gets Offed in an Alley," because whoever it happens to is, you know, dead. However.)

I try to talk my way out of it. "So… how 'bout them Cubs?" The all-purpose phrase for every situation.

Teapot Man sneers at me and ignores my topic of America's Pastime. Unforgivable. "You're Uchiha Sasuke's little sweetheart, huh? The one everyone's been talking about?"

I perk up. "People have been talking about us?" Score.

I don't see the blow, only feel the pain. I double over, clutching my stomach. Seething, I glare up at the man who punched me. "Dude! You can't hit a girl! What would your mother say!"

The Strangler backhands me. "Shut up, bitch," he snarls.

… Okay, yeah, now would be a pretty good time for me to find out that I have long-dormant magical powers. I glare at them, hoping they'll spontaneously burst into flames.

Alas.

I am punched again, and again.

I muster my breath to make a snarky comment that will no doubt get me in even deeper shit when my guardian angel appears.

And starts kicking major ass.

In two sharp, efficient blows that look like they fricking hurt, Sasuke has my attackers out cold.

I smile woozily. Team Sakura always prevails in the end.

He crouches down to me, his hands cradling my face. "Sakura…" He looks pained and concerned and angry and desperate all at once.

I reach out a hand, brushing my fingers over the soaked material of his suit. "It's ruined…" I murmur. "I told you to use the umbrella."

Sasuke looks like he can't decide whether to smack or hug me. "You idiot," he mutters. After a bit of maneuvering, he has me on my feet.

He moves to pick me up, but I shake my head. "I can walk." My voice is thick from the swelling in my face.

"You're in no condition—" he starts.

I shake my head a second time. "I can walk," I insist. Don't get me wrong, I love having Sasuke protect and take care of me, and I can't think of anything else I want more than to be safe and warm in his arms right now.

But I've reached my damsel-in-distress quota for the day.

Still, Sasuke supports almost all of my weight as he transports me to… somewhere. Everything is blurred by my pain, and all I know is I end up on a couch in a room that looks like it might once have been used for storage. Right now it's empty, save for the couch.

Sasuke comes into sight, carrying a plastic tub of what looks to be medical supplies and a washcloth. He uses the cloth, which is soaked in warm water, to gently wipe the blood from my face.

I squint at him. "Is this one of your gangster hideouts?"

"Hush," he says, which I take as "Yes, you clever, beautiful girl, it is one of my gangster hideouts." Another intuitive leap, if you will.

As he bandages me up, I ask, "Why did you come back…?" He shouldn't have been anywhere near that alley.

Smoothing a band-aid over my cheek, he answers, "One of those men followed us to and from the restaurant."

Yeah. Well. I NOTICED TOO. I just... allowed them to corner me in that alley. As part of My Plan. And I was about to get around to, you know, enacting My (frickin' awesome) Plan when Sasuke showed up. Yeah. So.

Fail.

Sasuke continues. "I figured it was me he was after. But when he didn't follow me after I left you…" His jaw tightens.

He finishes and clears the medical paraphernalia away. I outstretch my arms, motioning for him to sit beside me on the couch so that I can burrow into his side.

Sasuke hesitates. He doesn't like to cuddle, but he acquiesces when I glare at him.

I just got beat up in an alley for him. I deserve to be cuddled, dammit.

Once I'm settled in his arms, he speaks. "Sakura… I'm sorry. They would have never hurt you if it wasn't for me."

"Yeah," I acknowledge. The kid speaks the truth. Which is good, 'cause he's a pretty terrible liar. Oh, the stories I could tell you... But.

He takes a breath. I interrupt before he can speak again. "I know what you're going to say, by the way. You're going to tell me that you can't see me anymore because it's too dangerous, and that this is in my best interest, and it's okay, because it's not me, it's you." Alright, maybe not that last bit. Still.

His silence is confirmation. I sigh, squirming so that I can see his face. "Sasuke. I have something to tell you, too." I pause for dramatic effect. "With great power comes great responsibility."

At his look, I shrug. "Since we were having a Spiderman moment. There was something else I wanted to say…oh yeah. You inconsiderate asshole! How could you even think of leaving me after what I just went through?"

He seems to be choosing his words carefully. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm already hurt, Sasuke. And you know what? It's okay. I love you," I tell him for the first time. Not exactly storybook circumstances, but I call 'em as I see 'em. "I don't care if I get beat up a couple times, as long as I get to stay with you."

His resolve is weakening, I can tell. I think it's proof that he loves me, too. (I will scream for joy and start dancing at a less pivotal point in our relationship.)

"And, anyway," I go on, "if I'm going to be with you, then it's safest for me to actually be with you. So you'll just have to spend more time with me," I end happily. Ah, silver lining. Gotta love it.

Sasuke appears to think about that. Suddenly he looks uncomfortable, maybe even embarrassed. "You could…move in with me. It would be safer for you," he adds quickly. "Than living on your own."

Okay, so. It started out as a good day. Quickly turned into a bad day. And then became the best day of my life.

(So far. The real best day of my life will be when he puts a ring on my finger that isn't his gang ring, if you know what I mean.)

"On one condition," I stipulate. "I get to pick out our coffee table. I have high standards."

One of his eyebrows arches. "For a coffee table?"

I ignore his skepticism. "And one more thing."

He sighs and flicks my forehead affectionately. "Hmm?"

"The next time I'm getting beat up in an alley, before you rescue me, go rent a Spiderman costume. Then, after you're done kicking ass, you have to hang upside down and let me kiss you in the rain. If it's not raining…" I pause. "Actually, who am I kidding? It's always raining when people get beat up in allies."

(I think I have the right to consider myself an expert on the subject now. If I ever get tired of the hospital, I may have to look into getting a degree in it. Getting Beat Up in Allies, I mean. Who knows? It might turn out to be lucrative business.)

He just smiles and kisses me. "Silly, strange girl," he whispers.

It's not the "clever, beautiful girl" I was hoping for, but somehow, from Sasuke, it sounds better.

Our love story isn't that of a superhero and a girl, though we have a lot of parallels. No, Sasuke's a gangster.

That's what makes it—us—so much cooler.

Here's the sequel to Chicago! I'm kinda iffy on it. Oh well. This will eventually have a sequel. I really like these Chicago!verse fics. And no offense to Europeans, in here. Stephen Colbert just cracks me up. ^_-

This is dedicated to the people who recognized that Sakura was quoting "The Way We Were" in Chicago. Yay for you guys! =D

Sequel is posted! =D

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is not mine.