Author's Note: Well, here it is... the final chapter. It's not terribly long since most of the loose ends were taken care of in the previous chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys it! Please do let me know how you think it came out. After all, feedback is a wonderful thing.

And seriously, thank you guys so much for your patience, kind reviews, favorites and alerts!

Prompt: I'm Yours - The Script (Kakashi's P.O.V)
Word Count: 1780
Warnings: some language and sensuality, fluffiness

Also - A special thank you to my impromptu sort-of-beta, Naeryna! She has not seen the written chapters - so any mistakes you see are mine! - but she helped talk me through my outline to make sure I wasn't working some plot-hole-no-jutsu.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I am merely playing in the sandbox he has created. I am most definitely not receiving any monetary compensation for my child's play.


ooOoo

And though I may not look like much
I'm yours
– The Script –

ooOoo


Kakashi opened his lids with painstaking effort, the time spent in stasis making even the smallest movements sluggish, to the uninspiring view of clinical white. Blinking a couple times, and rolling his eyes around for good measure, he took a moment just to breath. He could feel the rush of blood through his veins, pumped throughout by his now-beating heart, and the warmth of his body heat as it soaked into the worn sheets of his hospital bed. And knowing that he finally – really, truly, fully – had control, the freedom to manipulate his form at will rather than being imprisoned within it, was invigorating.

His rescue was complete.

A smile slid across his face at the movement in his fingers, alternately squeezing into a fist and releasing, and Kakashi decided to take inventory of the rest of his parts. The man started from the bottom – wiggling his toes, rotating his joints, and carefully stretching his legs – and then worked his way up. Wrists, elbows, and shoulders were all functioning properly, as was his neck and head. With a pulse of energy, he checked that his chakra network was in working order. Satisfied with his findings, he sat up, shifting his legs over the edge of the bed, and gingerly eased his soles to rest on the cool floor.

So far, so good.

The more he moved, the better he felt, his muscles remembering their roles and gaining strength. His chakra hummed through his body, surging with potency, and he felt whole. Careful to keep a tight grip on the bed, fingers wrapped around the metal frame, the man stood for the first time in nearly two years. Vigor enveloped him, compelling him to test his limits. He began to walk, step by slow step, increasing speed with every new revolution of the cramped space. And when it was apparent that time had not altered his vivacity, the man felt a burst of gratefulness that overflowed. Kakashi ran a quick hand over his face, roughly removing the evidence of emotion, and felt his stomach flip with a sudden realization.

She wasn't there.

Frankly, he was surprised. Her face, bright and beautiful, was the first sight he had expected to see. That she wasn't here – that he woke alone, alone, alone – filled him with no small measure of disappointment. The man sat back down, ruffling his hair in frustration, and surveyed the space for a sign of her presence.

Perhaps she had just stepped out for a few minutes, needing a meal or fresh air or something.

But there was nothing, no evidence at all that she had even been in the room. Kakashi flopped down, no longer particularly interested in moving about, and rolled over to face the window, now framing the darkness of night. But after a second of moody contemplation, something clicked into place and he knew.

Sakura had been sent home.

Kakashi considered the window and, upon the discovery that he had been placed on the first floor, opened it.

ooOoo

The door opened before he could even knock.

A single feminine hand rested on the knob, using it as means to maintain her balance, as she bent and contorted to the side in an effort to secure her heel inside an uncooperative sandal. Her hair fell around her face as she muttered expletives against the object of her struggle, hiding Kakashi's arrival from her view, so the man cleared his throat.

Surprise righted her posture and the shoe dropped with a dull thud, forgotten. Mismatched eyes, green and black and bright with unshed tears, went wide and her jaw began to work – open and close and repeat, repeat, repeat – but no sound escaped. Lines of stress and exhaustion ran the length of her brow, temple to temple, and had settled in the outside corners of her red-rimmed eyes. She was still in her nightclothes, faded lounge pants paired with an obscenely thin tank, despite her apparent intent of departure and there was a lingering dampness imbedded in her unkempt locks. Her appearance was a conglomeration of messy and tired, as if she had battled through the night and was still unsure of victory.

And she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Do you know how worried I was?" she chastised, the substitution of anger for shock allowing her tongue to resume speech. "I went to sleep and you weren't there!"

"I wasn't asleep."

"Yes, dammit, I can see that."

"Are you going to let me in, Sakura?" he spoke, leaning against the doorjamb. "I don't enjoy having my ass hang out for all your neighbors to see."

The woman turned aside to give him room for entrance, putting the handle at her back. As he crossed the threshold, she slowly reversed her steps and shut the door by backing her weight into it, but she never let her gaze drift from him. "So, you're a fugitive now," she gestured to his hospital gown, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "We can expect a retrieval squad within the hour. Lady Tsunade takes the safety of those under her care very seriously."

"When they come, I'll go back like a good patient," he countered, drawing close enough to rest his hands on the wood at her back. "I'm just here to keep a… promise of sorts."

"Oh?"

And that was it.

His restraint was gone with but a flutter of her lashes. Her expression, all wide-eyed innocence and feminine instinct and coy flirtation, scorched a path through the reasoning center of his brain and all that was left behind was compulsion. Hands skimmed up the curve of her shoulders, fingers moved to tangle themselves in her fragrant hair, and a single thumb rested lightly over the pulse under her jawline. Another half step and he felt the press of soft flesh against the hard plane of his chest, her shallow breaths increasing and decreasing the pressure in a fascinating rhythm. Kakashi listed forward, the tips of his messy fringe intermingling with hers, as his hands gently tilted her face upwards.

Sakura rested her palm against cheek, stroking his mask with the calloused edge of her thumb, and he leaned into her touch. Her eyes darted to his and he could see her intent clearly. A nod from him and the woman was ready to redouble her attentions. She hooked a single finger under the hem of the dark fabric and dragged it – down, down, down over cheekbone and mouth and cleft of chin – with a deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of heat in the wake of her skin on his. With that last barrier gone, Kakashi continued on his journey.

The connection – mouth to eager mouth and heart to devoted heart – was like coming home. Her lips were warm and pliant under his own, with only the slightest hint of uncertainty. Hands curled into the material about his shoulders, pulling him closer, and her hesitation was gone. He deepened the kiss, running the tip of his tongue over the inner curve of her top lip, and she let out a small gasp. A teasing smirk marked his lips and the man knew she felt it as he pressed it into her mouth. It grew wider, into a full-out grin, when he registered the light slap she gave him in retribution. But then he drew in her bottom lip – tender nips punctuated by gentle suction – and a moan fell from her mouth, the reverberation sending delicious shivers up his spine.

All playfulness was gone.

His fingers left the shower-slick softness of her hair, trailing down her shoulders to ghost over the swell of her breasts and tickle her sides before digging firmly into the flesh at her hips. Sakura arched into him, her nails scratching into the silver on the back of his neck, and opened her mouth fully to his advances. So Kakashi kissed her – a symphony of lips, tongues, and mutual breath, and the touching of bare skin under coarse fingertips – until personal space became a thing he knew he'd never want again and the lack of oxygen made him light-headed. And just when his thoughts had turned towards the possibility of something more, brought on by the taste of her delicious skin under his tongue and the way she had her legs wrapped around his waist, the knock on the door came.

"I think that's your cue," Sakura whispered as she began to collect herself, extricating her limbs and smoothing down her mussed hair.

"Maybe I lied," he whispered back, tugging on the fleshy part of her ear with his teeth. "Maybe I have no intention of leaving."

"I think I'm going to be sick." A muffled masculine voice sounded from the other side of the door. The man raised the volume of his voice. "I can hear you guys. You're leaning against my element, you know."

"Tenzou?" Kakashi asked, raising his brows at Sakura in question. "They found you?"

"I'll tell you all about it. On the way to the hospital," the other shinobi called out with pointed emphasis.

"Go on," Sakura encouraged, pushing at his chest. "I need my rest anyway. You owe me a date tomorrow."

Kakashi stole another kiss, a chaste peck on her mouth. "A date?"

"Yep," a bright, genuine smile graced her now-swollen lips. "A picnic on a sunny hilltop overlooking the village. If I remember correctly, it's supposed to be an all-day event."

"I think we can work something out."

Sakura opened the door, looking wonderfully rumpled and thoroughly kissed, and started to push him over the threshold, but stopped mid-stride. "Oh damn, I'm dating my sensei. Do you know how much I'm going to get teased over this?"

"Ex-sensei," Kakashi corrected. "And I have a pretty good idea. I happen to be dating my ex-student."

"Can we wrap this up already? I'd rather not keep the Hokage up much longer," a disgruntled Yamato interjected.

"Fine." The woman sent the Anbu agent an evil glare before facing Kakashi. The abrupt change in her countenance, from fear-inducing to flirtation, was enthralling. "I'll see you tomorrow as soon as you're released."

"I don't know about that," he bent down, breathing softly into her ear, "I was under the impression that I'd see you in my dreams."

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Eventually sleep found them both – she in her room and he in his hospital bed – causing the connecting path to radiate with lovely red once again.

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And this time, they met inside Sakura's head.