Disclaimer: The Naruto series belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. He's a god.

A/N: Right. I'am aware that I said last time that me writing Kiba/Saku would be a one-time thing. But as it usually happens when you say stuff like that, it doesn't work out. And consequently, a most persistent plotbunny attacked me while I was cleaning the house. This time, the result won't be a one-shot either - probably around three chapters, I guess. The support I got for my other Kiba/Saku fic was really more than I expected, especially concerning the Favs. I also got some alerts, but people, I won't continue that one because it's a one-shot and it's supposed to be that way. So to make it up to you, you get this one. There's no mature content in here but the pairing's still the same. So read it, dammit. ;-)

(Another side-note - English is not my first language, I'm German. So it's entirely possible that there are expressions that usually wouldn't be used by a native speaker in this or that situation. I'm always glad if people point it out since it helps me work on my feeling for the English language as someone did in my last one-shot. If you don't want to do that, that's okay, too. In that case, please ignore awkward phrases.)

Note: Sensei does not only refer to teachers, but is also an expression used for doctors.

Bad Company


… paper's due next wednesday, don't forget. Thank you for your attention and have a good day."

Immediately, the noise level in the auditorium rose as everyone started chatting. Sakura did not join in the knocking on the desks to thank for a good lecture, but hastily crammed her writing utensils into her bag. She smiled fleetingly at someone who greeted her, then jumped up and hurried to the exit.

"Ah, Sakura-san, a word please." When her anatomy lecturer called out to her, she stopped and cursed silently before turning around with a questionning look. The professor smiled at her. "I heard that you want to apply for a scholarship."

"Yes, that's right," she answered, stepping to the side to not block the door and get pushed around by the masses of students streaming into the halls.

"If you need another commendatory letter then I'd gladly write it. It would be a shame if you had to quit medical school because of money issues."

Sakura smiled a bit nervously and decided not to tell him that she did not want a scholarship because of money problems, but because her parents thought it would raise her chances to get a good job after university if she was accepted by a pretigious scholarship programm. So she nodded and bowed her head in a grateful movement. "Thank you very much, sensei. I would appreciate that a lot."

She was about to politely end the conversation and hurry out of the auditorium when the professor spoke up again. "I also heard that you have been accepted as the apprentice to our chief physician. That is very impressive. It's not even your last year yet, Sakura-san."

"Thank you, sensei. I was very lucky to get accepted." She bowed her head again and discreetly threw a look at her wristwatch. She really needed to get out of here fast. The auditorium was already empty except for her, the professor and two other student who were waiting for a chance to speak with their lecturer.

"I wish you good luck. You are one of our most promising students."

Sakura kept her head down for a moment longer and thanked him again, then she straightened up, but kept her eyes trained on the floor. "I am very sorry, but I have to go now or I will be late for my lesson with Tsunade-shishou."

"Oh, of course." He sounded a bit uncomfortable. "See you next week, Sakura-san."

"Have a nice day, sensei," she murmured, then bowed her head and left the room in a normal walking speed before she turned around the corner and broke into a run. Another look at her wrist confirmed her thoughts – she was going to be late if she didn't jog all the way to the hospital. Sighing, she skidded around another corner and rushed out one of the side entrances. And stopped immeadiately, stumbling slightly.

Rain was pouring down like an iron-gray curtain. Two steps further, out from under the small roof, and she would have been soaked to the bone within three seconds. Sakura dropped her bag and cursed loudly.

"Nice language, Pinky."

She whirled around and glared at the guy leaning against the wall next to the door. He had messy brown hair and rough features with an angular jaw and straight eyebrows. One of his hands was buried in the pocket of his faded jeans, the other lifted a glowing cigarette to his lips. He inhaled the smoke with closed eyes, not even acknowledging her any further, and blew it out in a long stream. He looked normal – a guy around her age in a black leather jacket – but something about him with his casual stance and the red tattoo on his cheek seemed dangerous.

After realizing that her thoughts sounded like a bad romance novel, she scowled and took a step forward. "How very original. Never heard that before, Mister Death Wish."

She could see the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk, but his eyes were still closed. "I'm not suicidal. It's called addiction." Then he turned his head slightly in her direction and opened his eyes. They were brown and piercing and mocking. "How should I call you then? Candy Cotton? Spitfire?Sensei?"

He was making fun of her and she didn't like it one bit. Sakura crossed her arms across her chest. "It's Sakura, jerk. How do you know I'm studying to be a doctor?" she demanded.

"First thing you noticed was this." He waved his hand with the cigarette. "And moreover you just came out of the building where the anatomy course finished ten minutes ago. Not so hard to figure out, Sa-ku-ra."

The way he said her name sounded like an insult. Slowly but surely, she was losing her temper with this guy. She opened her mouth to retort, then thought better and took a deep breath before asking, "Just who the hell are you?"

The man closed his eyes and smirked again. "Bad company. Better get away from me, dollface, or you'll ruin your spotless reputation."

"Well, obviously I can't get away from you without getting soaked, can I? So I'm very sorry to impose on you further." Sakura snorted and turned away from him, picking up her bag and taking another look at her wristwatch. Great. She would not only be late, but also arrive soaked. This was just her day.

The rain was still pouring relentlessly, but it looked like she had no choice. She would just have to run. Sometimes she really hated herself for refusing her parent's offer to buy her a car. She was just too damn proud sometimes.

There was movement from the guy's corner and when she turned around, he had stepped out his cigarette. He was looking at her, hands stuffed in his pockets and face blank except for the ever-mocking eyes. "Want a ride?"

"What?" She stared at him.

He pulled out a set of keys and dangled them in front of him. "Do you want a ride? Where do you have to go?"

Sakura was at a loss for words and blinked. "The hospital. Um – not to be rude, but… why are you doing this?"

There it was again, his insufferable smirk. She noticed how one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other and how the edges of his canines showed. "Same thing as giving food to a stray dog, pumpkin." With that, he casually sauntered out into the rain.

"You're pitying me now?" she seethed and stomped after him, ignoring the way her short pink hair was dripping wet almost immediately. "I should just punch your lights out, you brain-dead idiot!"

"But who would give you a ride then?" he asked unfazed and threw her an amused look over his shoulder. "You really are a spitfire, woman." He halted in front of a motorbike, his own hair plastered against his forehead and temples, droplets of water running down his face and she tried not to notice how good it looked on him.

She stopped next to him, glaring at him with a bit of incredulity. "First of all – why can't you use my name like everyone else? Do you have problems with remembering words with more than two syllables? And secondly-" She stared down at the bike. "What the hell is this?"

"My bike." He threw her a spare helmet before pulling his one over his head. "You scared, cupcake?"

He smirked boldly at her when she angrily yanked the helmet over her hair. "You wish, moron." When he mounted the motorcycle without saying anything else, she scowled. "You didn't answer my question."

His wink was just as playful as everything else he did. "Oh, yes, I really can't remember anything but monosyllabic words, I'm terribly sorry. I'm just too stupid. Moreover" (she didn't like the glint in his eyes) "a delicate name like that doesn't fit a hellcat like yourself. Now get on."

He turned on the engine and Sakura was left to climb on the bike behind him, seething silently. She refused to touch him, but she had never ridden on a motorcycle before so when he set the machine into motion, she instinctively slung her arms around his waist.

What am I doing?, she asked herself incredulously. Lashing out at complete strangers, behaving like a complete bitch (here she groaned lowly because she realized that this guy wasn't wrong when calling her a spitfire) and riding on moterbikes in the rain with men who looked like the bad boys every mother warned her daughters of – her parents would faint of they ever heard of it, her friends would be shocked and it could be a serious threat to her privileged position as the apprentice of the famous head of the hospital Tsunade, her shishou.

But then he accelerated and she could feel the rain lashing against their sides and the powerful vibrations of the engine beneath their legs and the smooth, cool leather of his jacket and the hard torso underneath – and simply enjoyed it. For a while, she shoved all worries about her reputation and future aside and just enjoyed the ride.

Then he stopped in front of the hospital and Sakura climbed off almost regrettably. "Thank you," she said, handing him the helmet.

He took off the one he was wearing. "Inuzuka Kiba."

"What?" Confusedly, she frowned at him.

"That's my name, dollface. You asked earlier."

"And you're telling me now?" She could only stare at him incredulously. This guy was so exasperating!

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Didn't you want to know, Sa-ku-ra?"

"That's not the point!" she said angrily. "You're just so insufferable, Inuzuka!"

"See," he replied, "aren't you glad that you can finally use my name in your insults, candy cotton?"

"Don't call me that!"

The corner's of Kiba's mouth lifted into his lopsided grin. "Well, Sa-ku-ra, since you never told me your last name, what else can I do?"

"Fine. Haruno Sakura, nice to meet you," she snapped. "Now leave before I break your nose."

He pulled on his helmet again, but left the visor open. His eyes were glinting mockingly when he let the engine roar. "I think you misunderstood the job description. You're supposed to heal people, not beat them to a pulp. See ya, sensei."

Before she could make her threat come true, he had lifted two fingers in greeting and sped off, leaving her standing in the rain, gaping after him.

When she was reading a medical text later in her shishou's office, she decided that he had been saying the truth about himself. He really was bad company and that wasn't something she could tolerate or accept right now. Thinking of her parents, she sighed and amended, more like ever. As fun as the bike ride had been, Inuzuka Kiba was bad for her so she had to stay away from him.

A/N: End of part one. Still not sure if Kiba came out alright, so I'd like to hear a few opinions...