Disclaimer: Me no own. Hmph.
A/N: More for my Christmas Surprise. For the record, if I didn't know the last name of a character, I made one up.
Screw my job. Screw men. Screw my life.
Excuse me, I wasn't always this pessimistic. A few days ago, I was a perfectly happy member of society. That is, until today. Until these rich jerk faces checked into my mother's hotel, threatening to shut the place down with bad reviews if they weren't pleased.
Where does this tie me personally in, you ask? Well, oh smart one, re-read the last paragraph. My mother's hotel. That's not all; I'm actually the whole cause of this conflict.
It's because I threw water onto one of the heirs to a multi-billion dollar company.
Oh, I should probably explain a little. See, my mother owns Konoha Suites, a luxurious hotel. I, being her adopted daughter Sakura, work at the hotel as a waitress. Or a maid. Or a concierge. I go where I'm needed. I've even substituted for the chef.
I was working as a waitress when this little situation started.
'"Kimimaro," I called out, "My mom said we have some big customers tonight. She wants me to take the order!" I quickly tidied up my short, somewhat frizzy, pink hair in the little mirror inside the kitchen and blinked my emerald green eyes in what I thought to be a darling manner. When I deemed myself presentable, I grabbed the little notepad.
"Alright," Kimimaro, my knight with silver hair (Don't tell him I called him that. He hates it.), "I'll let Kiba know." He got up and walked towards the main cooking area.
"Tell Chouji too!" I called after him, walking out the serving entrance towards the large table of customers.
It was a table full of men, all remarkably handsome in their own right. There were twelve of them, a full dozen, all seated at a rectangular table. Some of them, most of them in fact, sat there looking quite miserable. There was one blond boy who seemed to be singlehandedly holding up the conversation.
"Hello," I walked forward, "My name is Sakura and I'll be your server today. Would you like something to drink?"
"Hn," Two boys, who looked strikingly similar, grunted. The rest of the table remained silent, though the blond boy was at least scanning the menu.
"Is that a yes or no?" I desperately wanted to frown, but forced that smile on my face.
Most of the table glared at me. Okay, what is their problem?
One of the red headed boys, there were two, said something, but I couldn't hear him.
"I'm sorry sir," I smiled politely, "I couldn't quite hear you. Would you please repeat that?"
He glared at me as if he wanted to kill me, "I said water for all of us. Try not to be quite so stupid."
I visibly twitched, gritting my teeth. I had to remember they were important people. I must not kill a valued customer. I must not kill a valued customer. I proceeded to ignore him, making my way to the kitchen.
"Twelve orders of water," I growled to Kiba, who raised an eyebrow.
"Geez," He chuckled, beginning to fill the glasses, "What's got your panties in a bunch?"
"I hate rich kids." I grabbed the tray full of glasses, heading back out to the table of snobs. I placed the tray on the table, sliding a glass in front of each young man. Only the blond one thanked me.
"Hey, stupid," The redhead called out, "We're ready to order food."
A man with spiked gray hair chuckled, "I think I'd rather order a lap dance. You think she's up for that?"
"I don't know," A younger man with spiked black hair scowled, "She's like a twig. She doesn't have the body for it."
His look alike smirked, "Lift up your skirt and we'll see."
The one with brown hair and white eyes sighed, "Leave the little whore alone. Why should we care if she got herself pregnant and has to work to pay for the baby?"
"Whore?" I shrieked, "Baby? What are you talking about? I, sir, am no whore!" Before I knew what I was doing, I dumped the glass of water onto his lap.
He shuddered violently, glaring at me with ghostly eyes. I turned on my heel, bolting out of the room, shouting, "I work here because my mother owns the place, you un-chivalrous brute!"'
Little did I know, an hour later they'd complain to my mother. They threatened her, saying that they'd give her hotel such a bad reputation she'd be lucky if a bum would want to stay there. She begged them not to, and they said there was only one way to convince them to keep quiet.
I, as punishment, would have to serve them as their personal maid for their month's stay. An entire month of dealing with spoiled, lazy, annoying rich brats. Oh joy.
Jumping off the roof was looking like a better option every minute.
So, that's how I ended up in the penthouse of our hotel, in a maid outfit. Yes, you read that right. I have to wear a maid's outfit. It is a short, too short in fact, black dress with ruffles on the sleeves and at the bottom of the dress. There's a little white apron, and long white stockings with black tap shoes, that go with it. If I had seen this dress at a cosplay con, it would've looked pretty cute. Being here in the dress, however, makes me feel like a complete and total whore.
An awesome looking whore, but a whore nonetheless.
Allow me to, in the time that I should spend cleaning but will not because my bosses are evil creepy dictators, tell you about my bosses.
Sasuke Uchiha, the younger Uchiha brother, is the silent type. However, he'll always have spare insults ready, and he doesn't seem to get along with his brother very much. Sibling rivalry is an issue, I suppose. All in all, he's not a particularly kind person. He ignores me, which is perfectly fine in my opinion. He's the epitome of a stick-up-their-ass rich person.
Itachi Uchiha, the older Uchiha brother, is similar in some ways. He's quiet as well. However, he appears more gentlemanly than his younger brother. I suppose he gets points for that. He tends to lock himself up in his room. He doesn't bother me much. Of course, I've only known him for about thirty minutes.
Neji Hyuuga, the one who assumed I was a whore with a baby and needed to work here for the money and because of that assumption needs to crawl in a pit and die, is distant. I mean, he doesn't speak much, and when he does, his words are cold. I almost feel bad for a guy like that. Of course, he insulted me, so the sympathy ends there.
Gaara No Sabaku, the one who called me stupid, is just plain mean. He shoved me aside when I was coming up to the penthouse. He's harsh, he doesn't seem to like people too much. He looks as though he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in a long time, and seemed somewhat lonely. Not that I care. I can't imagine him, or most of these people, in stuffy business suits while they're discussing product revenue and the effects of today's economy on business.
Sasori No Akasuna is relatively quiet. I hear he has an obsession with puppets. As long as he doesn't skin me alive and turn me into a puppet, I think we'll get along just fine.
Deidara Iwa likes to play with clay, throw his creations out the window, and watch them explode. I worry about him. He seems nice enough, if a little strange, but I worry if his little speech problem might be linked to a bigger mental problem. Plainly speaking, I wonder if he's insane.
Hidan Jaashin, the perverted weirdo, can just go die. He's the one that suggested the lap dance. If I jump off that roof, I'm pushing him first. From the other side, of course. I refuse to die with the likes of him. He's just a foul mouthed pervert. I'd be a lot better off without him.
Naruto Uzumaki, the most energetic of the bunch, is actually not so bad to be around. I mean, within the first ten minutes of us knowing each other he attempted to hug me eight times, but other than that he's not so bad. He's almost like a little kid. Sometimes, he can be kind of annoying. He seems, I'm not sure, lonely or something.
Shikamaru Nara is by far my favorite, if only for the reason that he sleeps almost all the time. Even if he smokes, a habit that is not my favorite, he still manages to annoy me the least.
Kisame Hoshigake, a man who is quite literally blue, isn't quite so bad. The only grudge I have against him is the fact that he's just so tall! That sounds silly, but when you're as short as I am, it's not fair for someone to be so large. It's just not right. He's an alcoholic, I'm very sure, but he wouldn't admit it to you. At least he's a happy drunk, unlike Mother. She's a beastly drunk.
Suigetsu Hoshigake is Kisame's son. That's pretty strange, considering Kisame doesn't look that old. Suigetsu's nice enough, I suppose. He's always thirsty, and he's a flirt. Of course, with a few water bottles and a few hand slaps, we'll get along fine.
Kakashi Hatake is just a pervert, plain and simple. He goes around reading the porno books that Uncle Jiraiya writes. He's aloof, and I wouldn't mind him nearly so much if the maid outfit hadn't been his idea. Perverted old porn addict. The french maid thing must be a closet fetish.
So now, I'm all alone in this luxurious penthouse, waiting for their highnesses to come back from their oh so important meeting.
All alone. Luxurious penthouse.
Hello, hot tub, here I come.
I ran outside the penthouse, going to the elevator. I hit the down button, waiting as the doors opened.
"Hello," The elevator's mechanical voice announced, "How are you today?" I grinned. Kiba and I had programmed it to say that. Once, a paranoid customer was absolutely convinced it had come to life like a Transformer or something. We had to sit him down and explain the situation. We never turned the function off, though. Most people don't mind. Well, except for that time Kiba had programmed it to say, "Hey, Sexy. Why don't you give me a little show?" in a creepy voice.
"Fine, thank you." I stepped inside, hitting the button with the star, marking the first floor. The elevator began its descent, playing the Bohemian Rhapsody. That was Kimimaro's idea.
I stepped out into the lobby, running towards my little room. Mother and I lived here, you see, in the first suite. They weren't the nicest suites, but it was still a five star hotel. Mother let anyone who worked here live on the first floor, for a small percentage of their pay. It was a pretty nice deal.
"Sakura," A voice I recognized as Kimimaro's called out, "What are you wearing?"
"Kimmy-kun," I flashed a smile and a pose, "You like it? It's a new fashion trend, straight from Paris."
"Hilarious," Kimimaro frowned, "Now go put on something more suitable. Your mother wouldn't be happy with you wearing this outfit."
"I like it," Kiba grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Could you be any more of a pervert?" Kimimaro shot an irritated glare at the brown haired boy.
"Is that a request?" Kiba chuckled, "So where are you going, Sakura?"
"For your information, Kimimaro," I frowned, "Mother agreed to let me wear this. Also, I'm stuck playing housekeeper for the rich brats I apparently aggravated. Screw cleaning. I'm using their hot tub. Care to join me?"
"Absolutely," Kiba immediately ran for his room, grabbing a pair of swimming trunks.
Kimimaro shot a glance at Kiba's open door, muttering, "I suppose I have to go. I can't really leave you alone with the likes of him."
I think about that for a moment. Kimimaro's being strange. Kiba's never done anything really, he only makes comments. I don't see the harm there. He's been speaking like that for years, and Kimimaro's never cared a bit. I huffed indignantly. Why's it matter to him now?
I go to grab my own bathing suit, a black bikini, and head upstairs. I ride the elevator, responding to the recording, and exit on the top floor. Kimimaro and Kiba are already in there, waiting. I smile at them, and open the door to the room.
"They'll be gone for a while," I laugh, "A business meeting or some such nonsense." I go into their bathroom to change, though the boys can change out there. It's a huge bathroom, with a large tub and tiles all over the walls and floor. There's a separate shower and a large mirror. I can see each boy's toothbrush, their named marked in each brush. I change quickly, then walk to the toothbrushes. I make a point to dunk a few of them in the porcelain toilet; Gaara's, Hidan's, Neji's, Sasuke's, and Kakashi. A knock at the bathroom's door stops me, though, and I go out to see the boys are all changed.
Kiba whistles, and I playfully smack the back of his head and Kimimaro glares. I go towards the big blue tub, pressing a red button on the wall. Bubbles stream out, making a low humming noise. I lower myself into the water, groaning at the warmth. It felt good.
Kiba and Kimimaro looked away. I'm not sure why. Oh well.
They lower themselves in at once, Kiba making a point to flick some water at me. I splash back lightly of course, grinning as the bubbles become foam. I take some of the foam into my cupped hand, I plop it onto his face. I giggle at his newly formed foam beard.
Kimimaro lets out a low chuckle. I smile. I've wisely chosen my best friends.
"I wish Sai were here," I sigh, missing my old friend. We were like the four amigos.
Kimimaro and Kiba freeze. They nod, slowly, and I'm about to ask what's up when I hear a voice growl out from the back of the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" The voice growls. I turn, gulping, to see none other than Gaara No Sabaku. The meanest of my bosses. Fabulous.
"Oh," I feel my muscles tense, unconsciously afraid. Kiba and Kimimaro tense too, I know because I can see them, inching forward as if to protect me. "We were just," I gulped, "Going for a swim?"
"To hell you were," He narrowed his sea foam eyes at Kiba and Kimimaro, "You two; Get the hell out."
Kiba and Kimimaro reluctantly got out of the tub, grabbing my arm and beginning to drag me along. I was numb. I was unconsciously afraid of Gaara.
"No," Gaara attempted to grab for my arm, "She stays."
I moved before he could grab me. I jerked my hand out of the way. I'm not sure what exactly possessed me to react in the way I did. Case in point, I brought my hand across Gaara's face. The slap made a loud sound, like gunfire, and Gaara fell to the floor.
All he could do is stare up at me, his eyes wide with shock. He simply sat there, like an abandoned puppy. He didn't know what to do, what to say, or what to think. He only sat and stared.
That made me upset, he didn't even know how to properly react when he was slapped. I glared at him, my eyes narrowing, "You know what?" I made my way to the door, looking back, "Get some sleep! You look terrible!" I shut the door, marching after Kimimaro and Kiba.
We made it a little ways down the hall, until I couldn't help it. I allowed the sensation to take over. I burst out into peals of laughter, rolling like waves. They started small, until they turned into loud gasps of air mixed with roaring laughter. I fell to the floor, clutching my still dripping wet sides. My ribs began to ache, I laughed so hard.
Kiba fell to the floor in laughter too, and even Kimimaro stood there chuckling. I could barely see them through the tears welling up in my eyes.
"You," Kiba choked out between laughs, "You told him to get some sleep!"
"You were so serious!" Kimimaro added.
"Hey bitch," A voice murmured, "What are you doing lying in the fucking hallway in an extremely attractive bikini?"
My eyes shot up to see another one of my not-so-favorite people. Hidan Jaashin.
Screw my life.
"What did you call her?" I heard Kimimaro growl out before I could stop him. He stood up, chest out, ready to face Hidan.
"Kimimaro," I tried to reach for him, but Kiba pushed me behind him.
"Take it back." Kiba let loose a feral snarl, stepping forward.
Hidan wouldn't step down. He stuck his chest out, grinning, "Make me then, you worthless scum. What's a poor fucker like you worth? Nothing!"
I winced as soon as the words were spoken. I knew what was coming next. Kiba lunged forward, and I jumped for him, grabbing for his arm. His arm, though, came back as his elbow hit me in the face. I heard the noise of the impact, and then there was something sticky on my mouth.
Kiba gasped, turning towards me with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," He cried out, reaching for me, "I'm sorry!"
Instinctively, I flinched from his touch, scooting backwards. I felt my lip, and held my hands in front of my eyes. Blood. I felt my stomach get queasy. Blood. Blood. Blood.
"Sakura," Kiba reached out for me again, but Hidan twisted his arms back, "Sakura I'm sorry!"
"You hurt her," Hidan shook Kiba, who seemed unaffected in his relentless attempts to get me to respond.
"Sakura," Kimimaro was by my side in an instant, "Sakura, it's alright. It's okay, he didn't mean it."
I wasn't comforted, though. I could barely tell he was there. I just kept remembering. Blood. Blood. "Don't hit me," I gasped, "Don't hurt me, please."
"Sakura," Kimimaro grabs my shoulder. I think I was shaking. I'm not sure. "Sakura, it's okay. I'm here, Sakura, it's okay. He can't hurt you. He's not here."
"I'm not ugly," I murmured, "Don't hurt me."
"Sakura, it's okay." Kimimaro rubbed my shoulders, attempting to ease me out of my nightmares. I could still feel the hits. The name calling. The sadness. It hurt all over again.
"Sakura, I'm sorry!" Kiba called out once more, his voice frail.
"What happened to Sakura-chan?" Another voice, Naruto's I think, called out from down the hall. There were footsteps, and then I was in the air.
It didn't matter to me, though. I was still trapped in my nightmare. "Don't hurt me," I chanted, "No more blood. Please."
"Give her back!" I heard Kimimaro cry, but someone must've held him back. He didn't come after me.
"Don't hurt me," I gasped, licking the blood from my lips, "Please." I saw flashes of his face. His half smile. His hands, they were beautiful, as they smacked me across the face. There was blood. So much blood. Blood.
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. I opened my eyes, my vision hazy for a moment. I looked up at the white ceiling, confused for a minute. I went to speak when I noticed a warm spot on my hand. I was certainly surprised to see Gaara there, looking up at me through half lidded eyes, his fingers on mine. His head rose up as he realized I was awake, giving a sigh of relief.
"You're alright. Naruto will be relieved." Gaara let go of my hand. I didn't really think much of it, but I reached for the warmth of his hand.
"Don't go," I pleaded. "I don't want to be alone."
"Alright," Gaara sighed, "I might as well stay. You're sleeping in my bed anyway."
"What?" I gasped, sitting up. Gaara, who needed sleep so badly, gave up his bed so I, a lowly worker here, could be comfortable?
I'll never understand rich people.
"You're a dummy," I snap, sitting up, "Go to sleep. You have bags under your eyes." I'll admit, it was sweet of him. I almost regret dunking his toothbrush in the toilet.
He looked at me funny, his head tilted sideways, "I can't sleep. I'll admit, though, no one's ever called me a dummy before."
He leaned in really close, his nose against mine, and stared deeply into my eyes. "What are you doing?" I squeaked, hoping I sounded more appalled than surprised. I'm sure my face was a thousand shades of red.
He chuckled softly, "Nothing. Just trying to figure you out. You're weird."
I jumped out of bed, bolting past him, "Doesn't matter! Go to bed! Bye!" He was faster than me though, and had me pinned against a wall before I knew what to do.
"Oh, didn't I mention it? You'll be sleeping here." Gaara pulled me back into the room.
Screw my life. I paused for a moment, then shouted out the most logical thing that came to mind.
He froze, looking at me for a second. However, it managed to have the desired effect. That effect being an overprotective Naruto Uzumaki tackling Gaara No Sabaku to the ground.
"What's wrong with you?" Naruto growled at him, "How could you try to rape Sakura-chan?"
Gaara growled back, "I wasn't raping her, stupid. She woke up and I told her she'd be spending the night here."
"Naruto, behave yourself," Shikamaru came out of his room, yawning, "This is all so troublesome."
"From what I hear, Gaara should be the one behaving himself." Neji sneered from his room.
"Hmph," Gaara huffed, "I didn't do anything."
Sasori leaned down, wrapping his arms around my waist, "Shame on Gaara for torturing my precious little dress up doll."
Dress up doll? It was at that precise moment I nothiced I was no longer wearing my black bikini, and was instead sporting a pair of short and a huge t-shirt. I don't care what happened to my clothes. I don't care who owns these clothes. I don't even care that Gaara stalked me while I was sleeping. All I care about is one thing. Who dressed me?
"You perverts!" I shrieked, taking a few steps back. Everyone who wasn't awake certainly was now, watching my little meltdown. "You horrible, horrible perverts!"
"Sakura," Kakashi attempted to intervene, still wearing his mask at who knows when in the morning, "It's okay."
"No," I growled, "It most certainly is not okay, you lecherous perverts!"
It was at that precise moment that both Kiba and Kimimaro burst through the door in an explosion of wood.
Kiba was up first, glaring at the men, "I knew you all were up to no good. What did you do to her?"
Kimimaro pulled me towards him, and instinctively I grasped their shirts. I felt the tears running down my face before I could stop them.
I hiccupped loudly, "One of them changed me. I don't know who."
Kiba growled, glaring the men down, "Who did it?"
Kimimaro's face was no more forgiving. They both looked ready to kill those people.
I quickly tried to remedy the situation, "I'm not hurt, and it's okay!" I waved my hand in front of their faces, "Will you just take me back to my room?" After all, I don't want my best friends getting arrested.
Kimimaro softened a bit, but Kiba still looked angry. I wrapped my arms around him for good measure. "I just want to go to bed," I pleaded, "Let's just go."
Kiba looked at me, my little puppy dog face plastered on. It only ever worked on him and Kimimaro. The sentimental softies.
I was surprised when the others interrupted. Suigetsu got to me first, picking me up bridal style and raced towards the elevator. I was impressed. The doors were closed and we were descending before the others even got close. Fast rich bastard.
I just sat there looking at him for a bit. I liked his hair. At least I wasn't the only one with a random hair color.
He spoke up before I did, "So, what room?"
I was about to answer when I thought about it. "Just drop me off on the first floor," I muttered, "You don't need to know where I live."
He chuckled, "That's pretty smart. The first floor it is." Sure enough, the bell dinged and he gently set me on the floor. He climbed back into the elevator and the doors close. With a smile, I ran to the stairs and skipped, yes skipped, all the way to my room.
I fell into my pillow, enjoying the lovely bliss of freedom. I was just about to fall asleep when a knock on the door woke me up again.
I looked up to see who it was. I open the door.
Screw my life.
I like this one. A lot of preliminary GaaSaku fluff. Mostly he's just interested because Sakura's an oddball. I promise the other guys will get a chance to shine. She sure says 'Screw my life' a lot. She also, in case you didn't notice from the little mental breakdown, has a thing about blood.
So, who do you think is at the door?