A/N: Adult situations.
Situation: Once upon a time there were two government agents. One's loyalties ran deep, the other's ran out. A one shot of how they cope. Adult situations.
"You wouldn't believe how drunk that man was…I could have taken out his wallet in front of his face and pocketed all his cash and credits."
"In what pocket?"
"Har, har – very funny. I'd like you to know, that –,"
"Saki! Customer requested you!" The stripper joints owner yelled behind the beaded doorways as she approached the room where her employees lounged around. The elderly woman was short on patience since two girls had called in ill.
"What?" The pink haired girl looked up in surprise in her soft southern accent, she hadn't expected for a customer till after she did her little cat walk.
"You heard me, table three. He paid for a lap dance, no top," the red headed middle aged women said as she turned her attention to the other girls, "Machi you have a private room appointment in fifteen, go get room eight ready and Suz, you're up on the dance floor in three."
The girl called Saki smiled as she glanced in the mirror, her strawberry red eye shadow went perfectly with her long pink pastel colored hair and the itsy bitsy green lace lingerie, that only barely covered her breasts properly, brought out her eyes. She puckered her lips and applied a thin layer of strawberry smelling lip gloss.
"Go get 'em tiger," Suz said as she pulled her long sleek black hair back into a complicated design that would be released during her pole spin.
"Aye aye," Saki said waving her hand off as she went through the back exit and walked towards table three. It was a section in the corner, and one of Saki's favorites due to being both the perfect location for a private dance and having a great view of the cat walk strippers dancing on stage. Not that she was into that type of thing.
The well paid entertainer began to sway her hips from side to side as she got closer, and lifted her eyes to meet her client. Her step faltered for only a moment. No one except the client heard the nano-second difference of the rhythmic walking of her stilettos on the mirror floors.
"Hey there, big boy," Saki greeted seductively as she stopped in front of him, swaying her hips from side to side and grabbing the string to her top and pulling it down. Her top fell with a clang. She liked to get right down to business. Especially with this man.
His deep onyx eyes never left her emerald ones as she lifted a knee up onto the leather coach he was sitting at and then the other, straddling him and she began to grind him slowly – teasingly.
She placed her arms around his neck and licked the soft flesh on his neck before whispering seductively in his ear, "What brings you here?"
"I thought we had an agreement, Sa-ku-ra," The man replied in a hushed tone as the stripper rotated her hips and pressed her nether regions against his own.
"It's Saki at the moment," She replied, grinding him harder, trying to make him lose control by way of erection.
"We had an agreement," he repeated again, appearing completely unfazed by her movements.
"I'm not within your jurisdiction," she replied sweetly as if she was whispering naughty plans in his ear, and arched her back, forcing her perky milk breasts into his view.
"You were in my car," he accused.
"Prove it," she replied grinding onto him in a circular fashion, feeling his cock begin to stiffen.
"A pink hair on the stirring wheel," he replied hoarsely.
"Plenty of," she began as she rotated her hips in the opposite way and heard him try to keep down a growl of pleasure forming in the back of his throat, "pink haired girls in New York."
"You wouldn't want me running a D.N.A test," he said placing his hands on her hips to stop the movement because he was coming dangerously close to doing something an on-duty agent should not.
"I left the states for a while," she said sliding off him naturally and dancing slowly and seductively in front of him – this time his eyes traveled to her bouncing breasts five times too often.
"Yes I read, a few dead French men, Russian Museum theft, Egyptian jewels, a prince's yacht, Irish terrorist compound explosions… though I'm not certain if you were responsible for the Japanese golden Buddha theft."
"I wasn't," she whispered, "I was the one paid to get it back…tomorrows papers should say that it's been returned." She turned her body and lowered her behind to Itachi's growing hard on and rubbed gently around it with movements of a professional.
"What are you doing here?" Unconsciously his hips lifted up and she held back a giggle that was threatening to come out. She always had so much fun with Itachi. She looked over her shoulder and smirked wickedly at him.
"Dancing," she grinded down on him harder and grabbed his hands and pressed his open palms over her hardened nipples, "for you."
"You have two ice picks hidden in your panties," he replied squeezing her breasts too tightly to be romantic or sweet. Just the way she liked it.
She let out a soft moan, "does anything every escape you?"
"Just enjoy the dance, I-ta-chi," she said pushing her behind into his lower abdomen and then slid it down his crotch to his thighs and pack up slowly, tantalizingly.
"I'd enjoy it more if I had you bent over the table and got to fuck your brains out," he replied squeezing her nipples between his index and middle fingers.
"Mmmmm," Sakura whispered in a soft moan, as she returned to rotating her hips clockwise, "Paris was fun, wasn't it?"
"Why, are you here?" He half snarled the question while pinching her nipples hard, but it only made her moan louder. It was becoming one of the most inappropriate interrogations he had ever preformed.
"Now, now…Itachi, I'm supposed to be pleasuring you…not the other way around," she replied removing his hands from her breasts and stood up away from him, bending over slowly with a flat back, "I know how much you love spankings."
A moment later, a loud smack was heard throughout the club. No one had seen where it came from since Sakura was dancing in front of him like before and he had his arms crossed over his chest.
"Someone's angry," she stated with a wicked glint in her eyes.
"Sakura, you know how short my patience can be."
"Mmmm, but you last soooo long. It evens out," She replied leaning forward, her face inches away from his, "say you missed me."
"Sa-ku-ra," he warned in a tone that she recognized but decided to ignore.
She licked her lips seductively as she leaned away from him, but then that momentary glance that a blink would have missed caught his attention.
Itachi's eyes glanced across the room at the Italian man with golden chains hanging from his neck. There were two body guards with him and Itachi spotted another by the door examining the room. The mob-dressed man walked in, grabbed the attention of a waitress and pointed out where he would like to be sitting.
"Who is he?" He asked looking back at Sakura's perfect ass shaking in front of him, with one cheek burning red from his previous attack.
"A dead man, and looks like…" she raised her voice adding a soft southern twang to it, "sorry honey, time's up," she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "you do anything cop-like. I swear, the national security of this country will be off my protected list."
Itachi watched as she bent over to pick up her tiny bikini top and sashayed over onto the stage to give a dance that caught the attention of every man in the room, including the Italian mafia man she was after who had outbid all the rest for a lap dance. The government agent had ordered another lap dance to look inconspicuous, but the girl was nothing like Sakura and his hard on had eased away allowing him to concentrate on the pink haired vixen preparing to execute her next victim.
He had been the only one to see her stick the poisonous ice-pick into his neck. Within two hours, the man would be dead and it would take weeks before the autopsy reports would come back with the results. By then Sakura would have been long gone.
When her lap dance with the mob man ended she offered him an extra long, sweet tongue kiss that was so erotic it made Itachi look away – he was going to do something jealous boyfriend-like if he kept watching.
"You know," she said when she entered her supposed to be empty Inn room, "you could at least park your ugly ass car around the block."
"I wasn't aware this Inn required luxury vehicles for entrance acceptance," a voice called out from the back. She turned on the lights to see Itachi laying in her bed with his hands behind his head, looking up at the dusty fan.
"It does require nightly payment and a key for entrance though. Both of which you are lacking." Sakura explained as she took off her heels.
"Think of it as getting even for Germany."
"Whatever," the girl muttered, "you brought dinner?"
"Fast food…chicken nuggets and fries," he replied nodding towards the white bag near his feet.
"Poisoned?" she asked shaking off her jacket and she carefully tossed it across the room, making it land on the moldy chair.
"Sure," he said watching as she climbed onto the bed beside him and picked up the bag.
"What are you doing in East Coast America?" Itachi asked as she crossed her legs and placed the bag in the middle.
"A job," she said placing a crispy, yet still warm, fry into her mouth.
"I doubt you flew back here to kill a low profile mob man."
"What makes you think I flew here? And don't doubt me…it's the same as underestimating me…I'd think you Americans would learn."
"You are American too."
"Hah, cute, I was born in Japan anyhow."
"And lived here for twenty years."
"And got backstabbed by the wonderful U.S. of fucking A."
Itachi went silent as she popped a chicken nugget in her mouth.
"What are you doing here?"
"Not on a terrorist mission if that's what you're worried about."
"I thought we had an agreement that you'd stay away…I don't want to arrest you…jail wouldn't do well with you."
"You, put me away? Itachi, who are you fooling?" She said putting three fries in her mouth. She was barely chewing. When she wasn't pretending to be a stripper she doing a personal stake out which meant that she had very little to eat or drink in the past two weeks.
Itachi remained silent as he watched nearly swallow a nugget whole.
"You see…here, you learn one basic thing…" she paused to chew, "it's like a line," she made the movement with her hand, "and all the brainwashed bastards walk that line, learning all those things that all the rest had learned. I, on the other hand," she pointed to herself as she stared straight into her ex-partner's eyes, "have been stepping over everyone's lines…do you really think you could take me?"
"You have two guns, three ice picks, a pocket knife, one steel rope, and a dagger strapped behind the gun in your thigh."
"You have two guns, with two daggers behind each holster, one steel rope, two pairs of handcuffs, and the ice of spades weapon card I gave you in Las Vegas."
His eyes narrowed as he watched her. His face gave nothing else away, but she saw the hint of annoyance.
"I can have a gun at your head before you even reach for anything of yours," he challenged.
"Itachi, the difference between you and I is that you wouldn't shot. I would," she replied smoothly.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Itachi replied and when he saw her hand twitch to the left his hand went after his gun in his side holster as he sat up at the same time.
They both had federal issued guns pointed at each other's temples.
"Shot," he dared.
This time, her bright emerald eyes were the ones to narrow and display a mixture of emotions. They unhooked their safety at the same time and Itachi baited her again, "you said you'd shoot."
"Yes," Itachi hissed. He still had the bullet in his side – it was too dangerous to remove.
"I was trying to miss," she said relocking her safety and swiftly removed the gun from his temple. His gun was still pointed at her head after she put her weapon down and returned to eating. His hand was steady.
"You always had terrible long distance aim without a sniper gun."
"Yeah," she agreed offering him a chicken nugget.
"How can you eat that crap," he said relocking the gun's safety and returned his weapon to its holster and looked at her. She had changed so much. The years hadn't been kind on her. Her once flawless skin was plagued with worry lines and her eyes had crow's feet even when she wasn't squinting. The makeup she wore at the club had done a good job at concealing everything, even the brand new scar she was sporting from the bottom of her ear down to her collar bone. He resisted in asking about it.
Sakura shrugged at his judgmental stare, "it's late and I'm hungry, and shouldn't you be getting back to the wife and kids, anyway?"
"Haven't got either."
"Hmmm," she replied, "I haven't gotten knocked up."
"Obviously," Itachi deadpanned laying back down and returned his gaze at the dusty fan, it didn't plague him with dozens of questions and dozens of unattainable desires, "what are you doing here?"
"I've been hired to take care of a terrorist threat."
"Me," Sakura replied and Itachi knew she was telling the truth. He had spent too long learning to read her to ever forget how she would bite her lip when she got excited, play with her nails when nervous, or look straight between his eyes, at the bridge of his nose, when she lied.
"Seems that I can't hate America all that much if you're living here," she answered offhandedly, finally pausing at the ravenous consumption of hundreds of calories.
"I was stationed in Australia last year," Itachi said changing the topic.
"I know, I was in New Zealand for a while…you know, debating on seeing you."
"You should have."
"Would have if some jackass didn't put a bolo out on me. You know how much I hate dying my hair."
Itachi chuckled under his breath at an old memory of Sakura having to dye her hair black…the fit she threw over it was worse than a five year old having their favorite game taken away, "Is it true you got finger print surgery?"
"In China," she answered.
"I needed a Japanese passport, and their intelligence is connected with the U.S…I wouldn't have gotten through customs with any other…and I didn't have the contacts I needed for…that certain mission."
That was a lie. Neither of them could see anything…the question hanging in the salty, smoggy air would always and forever be why the other chose the path they did. It was impossible to comprehend. It was impossible to see.
Itachi would never understand how Sakura choose to be a rogue agent after all that they'd been through. Sakura would never understand how Itachi choose to be loyal to the nation that had left him for dead.
So they were stuck with rare visits, which risked the torture and the death sentence for one and accusations of treason and imprisonment for the other.
"One day," Sakura said placing the bag aside and moving closer to lay beside Itachi, "it will all be okay."
"In another life…maybe we'll be on the same side."
Itachi knew Sakura could be on his side…and Sakura knew Itachi could be on her side. But neither planned on switching, so they were stuck tip-toeing around enemy lines.
Silence engulfed them for an uncountable period. Both were reliving a once upon a time. When things were so complicated that it didn't matter why, it was just a job to do – nothing less, nothing more. Before the truths became lies, before the loyalties of the officials they trusted came into question…before they were captured. It was a time that could only be visited in silence, one beside the other.
It was a time of rough friendship and absolute trust. When Itachi never had to look behind him because he knew Sakura was protecting all his blind spots. When Sakura would make sure that nothing came between them and a finished job. When cost and lives didn't mean poverty and grievances. It was a time of wild sex and playful manipulation. When Sakura would tease every moment she got and Itachi would push every button there was to push on Sakura. It was hot and passionate and it was always messy and rough but no matter what – it was good. It worked for them. But then they got caught up in someone's agenda, and they had to be eliminated. He had to watch Sakura go without water or food for weeks because she was saving them for him – he was injured, he need it more, she would reason. He watched her get frail and weak. Too thin to fit into her size two clothes – too weak to be able to stand sometimes. And he…a complete invalid….unable to do anything for her at the time.
She had to perform multiple surgeries on him – without anesthetic and without proper tools. Covered in his blood, he watched her cry and concentrate, sigh and curse as he was forced into a world of unimaginable pain. He had to keep silent for her, because if his lips were to even crack an inch – he would have shouted for a deal with the devil to end his life.
In the end, she saved him. And slowly, it looked like things would be okay…once and for all the shattered pieces of their reputation was being pieced back together and they were turning into the good guys again. They got past the poverty, imprisonment, captivity, torture….they seemed free…they were going to be rescued and everything would go back to how it used to be. If only…
He thought she was okay. He somehow missed the pain she was suffering…and it only came out in that last final look she gave him – moments before she jumped.
Out of his hands.
Out of his grasp.
He clenched his fist. Sakura glanced over, his face was readable and she could feel what he was feeling. She opened her mouth to say something but her phone beeped and saved her from the lies she'd have to tell. She sat back up and flipped her phone open. He didn't move. He was recovering from the image of a bruised and beaten up Sakura, sitting beside him on the helicopter. He held her hand and squeezed it. She looked at him while the paramedics pressed a cotton ball of peroxide on her cheek. He offered her a weak smile, but a reassuring smile nonetheless. It promised that everything would be okay.
"It's not okay," she spoke softly and he saw so much in her eyes – so much confusion and pain that it made Itachi ill just remembering it, "I…can't go back," she said to him moments before releasing her hand from his and pushing the paramedic aside and jumping off. Splash. And gone.
Down into the Atlantic Ocean. He should have jumped with her.
That day he discovered where his loyalties lied, and forever – he'd hate himself for it.
"You have to go soon?" Itachi asked, blinking away the once upon a time.
"Yeap," she said taking off her sweater. She removed her gun from behind back and tossed it on the bed beside him. Then she reached into her duffle bag to pull out her black turtle neck.
"Amsterdam's American security has been recently decreased," he said offhandedly.
"Russia has changed their governmental servers to a 0.92 system," she added as she took off her belt that contained all her ice picks and then her skirt slid down to the floor to reveal her underwearless with only an empty gun strap and a dagger behind it. Itachi subconsciously licked his lips as he caught her figure in his peripheral vision. He cocked his head to the side to see better.
"There's a rumor of the Swiss black market looking to buy the Maria Gem of Italia and some mob men in the south of Spain are looking for a thief," he watched her take off all her weapon straps and then slid on black leggings.
"The French have started to experiment with nuclear warheads in their environmental section disguised as chemical research."
"Be careful," he said as she reattached all her weapons and guns.
"I brought enough C4 to stop the Spartan army…I'll be fine."
"How did you sneak C4 into the country?"
"I have some Americans who owe me some favors," Sakura replied winking at him as she finger brushed her hair back into a high pony tail.
"I have a mission to Brazil next week," Itachi said off handedly.
"Mmmm, I may use South America as a getaway. I need a good tan anyway…"
"It's nice this time of year."
Sakura strapped her duffle bag filled with explosives over her shoulder before reaching into it and pulling out a dark red leather book. She tossed it to her ex-partner.
Itachi reached into his pocket and tossed her a set of passports held together by a rubber band.
She caught it with ease and removed one and flipped through it, "Blank," she placed them in her bag, "thanks."
"Original Bingo book?" He asked opening the red book she tossed at him.
"Of course, see you Itachi," she said not sparing a second glance at him as she left the room. A tear streamed down her face unwillingly when her back was turned. She had to leave quickly, or else she might have never left at all. The love she harbored for him was engraved deeper than he'd ever know.
"Bye," Itachi whispered after she closed the door.
Itachi was the only federal agent in America not surprised to hear about the explosion of a terrorist organization based in New Jersey the next morning. Media said that they mismatched their wires and caused an inner explosion, trapping most members in the fire. The police and fire department responded fast enough to save most of their lives and take them all into interrogation.
Itachi turned off the T.V in the crappy Inn Sakura rented and sighed.
An enemy of the states could be the hero.
Committing treason could save lives.
And two lovers could find a balance between right and wrong.
If she hadn't jumped...
If he had followed...
They'd both be telling a different story. But this is the story that's left; too messy to put together, too broken to undo.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always welcomed ^^