Gaara was the Kazekage. He was not scared of anything.

Not even death.

But, when Kankurou had barreled into his office, waving a pornographic calendar in his face screaming "It's time! It's time!", he was scared. Not because of the lady mere inches from his nose that had breasts large enough you could use them for water-floats, but the week that had been circled with a bright red pen.

This week.

This hellish week, that could be referred to, with just reasons, as Temari's 'time of the month'.

Gaara was scared out of his wits.

((TBC. Yay for PMS! This is totally crack, not to be taken seriously, and merely to be enjoyed! I wrote this for fun, and not really for other people to read, so...))