"Promise me you will finish this last report tonight, Tsunade-sama."
A churlish grunt arouse from the thick blond tresses that fell in disorder over a stack of white documents needed to be filled. The Hokage assistant interpreted that guttural sound as a 'Yes' and cheerfully abandoned the office.
"And don't go to sleep very late!"
Tsunade immediately hated the silence that got hold of the empty room, which motivated the papers in front of her to continue blank. A long time -or so the Hokage presumed- passed until the door was opened again.
She looked up slowly and tired hazel eyes brightened a bit at the recognizable mountain of a man that walked through it.
Jiraiya entered with that lewd and uninhibited smile of his and settled on the chair next to the desk in front of her.
"Still up so late?" asked so casually watching as she flexed her long, well-manicured fingers over the table.
Lazily, she rested her chin on her palm and stared at him for a long time. "This is all your fault. You had to drag me into this office to see me suffer, didn't you."
He laughed carelessly, and finally, the silence was shattered into nothing as the familiar sound surrounded them.
"It can't be that bad Hime. Besides, I'm here to give you some company." He grinned cheekily.
A blond eyebrow were raised in interest as from his vest he pulled out sake and two glasses. He placed them on the table with a thud. In a fluid movement he filled the cups and slid one to her across the wood.
The corners of her mouth were pulled up in satisfaction as she placed the glass in front of her lips, already the alcohol scent brightening her. "This does make up for the entire work, Baka-chan." Then she threw her head back and drowned the hot liquid down her throat. She slowly licked her lips.
"Take it easy Hime, I only brought one for all night." He sipped some of his sake and gazed as she filled her glass once again.
She cocked an eyebrow and smirked placing her palms under her chin, breasts flattened against the wooden table. Admiring the way his broad shoulders relaxed against the chair, she sighed happily. "It's good to hear you're back."
His eyes slowly traveled down to her chest, but they were forced to linger back to her face as a warning huff escaped her lips. He winked at her and reached a hand to his vest.
Her smile quickly disappeared just as he pulled out a scroll. "Here Hokage-sama. Mission accomplished.
She groaned and threw the scroll to the 'have-to-read-and-sign' stack. Great, another think to read before going home.
He chuckled. "Look at you Tsunade, you're a wreck. Don't you have time for something fun anymore?"
"Fun, what's that." She absently muttered, already drowning in the mountain of papers in front of her. Jiraiya watched as she signed documents without even running her eyes through the words, surely trusting Shizune would correct them later.
"Why don't you finish this tomorrow. Seriously Tsunade. Here you have me, waiting for you to raise from that chair and do something which could entertain us both."
Her eyebrows raised as she put down her pen. "And what exactly do you have in mind?"
He shrugged, a grin spread over his features. She allowed a sincere smile slip out of her lips. It was wonderful having him around, he made all the work much more bearable.
He stared at her hazel eyes until his heart forced him to start breathing again.
That was what made her so unique. You could spend all your life watching her take a breath without getting tired of it. She was just the most gorgeous being that had been ever born. Her blond mane was golden silk, a treasure desired to hold and caress with love. And her eyes were the seasons. Autumn; warm and familiar. Winter; cool and rough. Spring; new and fresh. Summer; fierce and dominant.
Summer. He loved seeing that look in her eyes. She had this possessive whip which made all men drop to their knees in order to please her. She was dominant in her own right. And the way her hips swayed with each step in those sexy high heels made the world just lose its own sense. But still not so risky to jump right after her as she was fiery and would not allow even the wildest dream come true.
She was inspiring and light as a muse. A single, soft movement of one of her muscles was art and many times had he wondered laying back with a blank notebook if she was real or just a beautiful sculpture done by the hands of the most magnificent artist.
She had him bewitched in her wonders, and she knew it.
"What are you thinking?" She asked and her soft voice woke him from deep thoughts. She was looking at him trying to decipher his expression.
"Why did you leave?" He asked for the thousandth time, eyes wandering in hers.
And for the thousandth time she eluded it.
"You also left."
And with that she went back to reading. Minutes passed before he continued the conversation with a defeated smile on the lips.
"Why did you never agreed on going out with me?"
She stopped and looked up. Her voice was determined and in absolute convincement.
"Because it wouldn't have worked out."
He leaned forward. "How do you know? We haven't even tried out!"
"I do know. You're an incorrigible philanderer and I'm…"
"An alcoholic addicted to gambling."
She tilted her jaw in consideration. And she knew that he was certain.
He leaned closer, eyes sparkling. Both carrying on their shoulders the sensation of remorse, while their body became numb with the sureness of having lost a precious opportunity.
"But we could have tried."
She shook her head. "It's too late to think about that, Jiraiya."
She raised her eyes from the papers she desired to finish reading and Jiraiya's raven eyes caught her in the flight.
"We can still do it." He susurred softly, a new, interesting smile playing in his lips.
She remained silent.
The dim light of the room brightened his stare, intensifying the meaning of everything behind his voice. Words didn't matter now; didn't make sense anymore. The loneliness of the night and ages of torture and the alcohol clouding her severe principles made it all clear and sharp for the first time in their crooked lives.
The tenuous creak of the door closing and slow steps approximating her made her smile. A pair of strong, heavy hands grabbed her shoulders and she was raised from the chair.
Papers flew in a second spreading all over the floor of the office. The sake bottle fell and golden liquid tinted the carpet.
"I can do it. Can you?"
Her scarlet lips were pulled up in a fiery smile, and he immediately understood her.
That night the Godaime realized life is hardly going to give you second chances, and that she had wasted too many of them.
Needed to write something like this.
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