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Pretty Little Killing Machine	By : forgetmenow Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 2414 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Ch1
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch3
- 4-Ch4
- 5-Ch 5
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: I don�t own Naruto, and honestly I would probably never have the creative capacity to think of something even close. Kudos to Masashi Kishimoto!

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Pretty Little Hate Machine

Chapter 4

Draft 10-7-06
Warning: If sandcest offends you, do not continue. Read at your own risk.
Woo! Look, the other part of the teaser.
By: Forgetmenow

Spoilers: TV and manga are fair game

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Temari opened her eyes to find Gaara staring down at her. Those cool, pale green orbs, that she had seen change to stormy turquoise during fits of rage so many times before, were now focused ever so intently on her. The expression on his face was so familiar yet foreign. His mouth was neither smiling nor frowning. The look in his eyes was unreadable. People say that the eyes are the window to a person�s soul. She was almost expecting to see the spirit of the slumbering Ichibi if she gazed long enough, but she could only see herself being reflected back from his glassy depths.
Gaara had slid over to her side of the covers and was practically on top of her. He was supporting his own weight as his body was on all-fours above her. If he had truly rested on her, she would�ve awoken to the added weight. His legs were bent at the knees, resting on each side of her hips, while his arms placed on each side of her head, propped up his upper body. She wasn�t quite sure how she would�ve reacted, if she had woken to find his legs entwined between hers, their intimate areas pressing against one another...especially now, since his face was so close to hers. They were practically sharing the same air. He could kiss her if he wanted to. He could bend down and brush his lips against hers. The thought of even the chastest of grazing lips had Temari anticipating what was almost the inevitable. She wondered what his lips felt like. Did the desert make his lips rough and dry or were they secretly smooth and soft, protected beneath the layer of sand armor? The urge and expectancy to experience the sensation of touching his lips grew until she suddenly puckered and licked her lips which suddenly felt as dry as the landscape she envisioned.
Gaara's watchful gaze followed the movement of her tongue as she moistened her lips. Coming back to herself, she remembered who she was and who he was, and where they both were.
Temari panicked.
�What are you doing!�
She needed room; he was too close to her. He�s never been so close before. He was invading her space. She couldn�t think properly. Surely, the thoughts that she had seconds before were proof enough. Because of his close proximity, she found it hard to distinguish if her own feelings were of fear or heightened discomfort. Usually, she wasn�t afraid when she was alone around Gaara. It was often like an uneasiness and awkwardness, since she felt as if she were trespassing on his solitude. And she wasn�t quite sure how he felt either, since his thoughts and feelings were often times undecipherable from his demeanor. No smiling or frowning, his face was smooth and unmarred from the wrinkles and lines of emotion.
She put her hands on his shoulder to push him away from her, but he would not budge. His body was like stone above hers, solid and immobile beneath her fingers. Immovable. A crimson haired Adonis carved from rock�but he was warm. Oh, so warm. When he was unconscious, his body temperature had dropped as if he was in like some state of hibernation. 1 �She had almost feared he had died and that they were transporting a corpse. �But now, with him seemingly wide-awake, Temari was aware of the warmth emanating from his pores through to her fingertips, heating the cells of her very being. She tried to push again and still nothing.
�You�re different.� Gaara�s voice was low as it rumbled out from deep within his chest Temari could detect hints of stress in his voice despite it being laced with its usual eerie rasp. It sounded almost as if he were straining�from pain.
It suddenly occurred to her: if she had been thinking more clearly seconds before, she would�ve realized that she was pushing against his injured shoulder ---the shoulder that the Uchiha had damaged which also hadn�t healed as cleanly because of the rampaging Biju. Her eyes widened and her arms went limp like noodles before falling.
�Naze (why)�� Gaara questioned. Often times, the things that Gaara didn�t understand subsequently resulted in two distinct emotions. One mood swing was involved raging anger which oftentimes involved the need for medical nin.
Bad. Very bad. Temari thought to herself.
The second emotion was caution and fear; no medical nin needed (most of the time).
Better.
Temari hoped his emotional shift was the latter. Human behavior deemed that fear should stem from the unknown, an angry Gaara was one of the last things she wanted to deal with right now.
�Gomen, I didn�t mean to�� Temari�s was voice soft and apologetic.
�Why�are you �� Each pause in his statement seemed cautiously chosen. �...different?�
His low tone gave her goose bumps and caused a funny feeling to spread through her stomach. It made her tingle all over. It took some time for her mind to register that he didn�t seem quite so concerned about the accidental hurt she had just inflicted on him. Certainly something so trivial as her appearance wouldn�t need explaining, but she replied.
�My hair�s down.� Had the few hours of sleep skewed her hair into a tangled mess? Contrary, her blonde tresses were spread out around her head like a golden fan.
�But, that shouldn�t make you look the way you do�� With the intensity he focused upon her, surely he could crushed her with his gaze only, like some juggernaut. Forget the sand. With those faded green eyes of his, he could kill her with just a look.
Temari blinked twice, slightly perplexed. She stared back at him not quite sure what he meant.
It�s true she looked the same even with her hair undone, but something inside Gaara told himself that something was amiss. He should treat her differently, because she was not the same. But, why? Why should he treat her any differently than he had before? It was his sister before him. The term for their kinship held no meaning to him. It was just another word to describe lumps of joints and flesh linked by ill intent like brother� father� mother�family� friend�lover�
�Your eyes�they seem brighter. There�s more light in them, like stars.� Temari�s deep, sea green eyes with the twinkling shine continued to stare back at him. If he was lost, could he find his way home by following the stars that shimmered as brightly as her eyes did now? Find his way back to Suna, back to her.
Then, Temari turned her head towards the window. She couldn�t see any of them twinkling outside. The night cycle had shifted them from viewing gaze. But, it was still dark outside, only a few hours left. Gaara was less inclined to converse during the day. This moment between them would inevitably end. She was dreading when the sun would rise and signal the start of another day. He would then seal his thoughts away deep within himself and respond only when spoken to. Even then, he was usually curt and blunt. The low tremors of his voice were refreshing compared the silence which now hung between them. She hoped he would continue.
Gaara concentrated on the sleek curve of her nape, the tightened cords of her throat, and the delicate curve of her jaw as she looked away. Almost absently, not knowing the reason why his body was compelled, he brushed the side of her cheek with the pad of his thumb and tips of his fingers.
When she unexpectedly felt his skin brush her cheek, the oxygen caught in her chest as she held her breath. She didn�t know what was happening, what would possess him to lay a hand on her? She could feel the prickling of goose bumps rise up along her body, her body becoming sinfully aware that so much of her flesh had yet to feel Gaara�s naked touch. She fisted her own hands, the nails digging into her palms.
Why was he doing this? He doesn�t understand. He�s confused. Things that confused Gaara, made him mad. When he�s mad, that�s when the bleeding begins� Would the sand come now? She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting and dreading what may be forthcoming.
I�m not afraid of Gaara. I�m not� I�m not. I�m not afraid! She kept repeating to herself.
He pulled his hand away, the fleeting brush of his silky touch now gone.
Temari turned her head back to gaze up at Gaara eyes. The color and expression in the faded azure green depths was indescribable. Tenderness? Curiosity? Confusion?
She was the same sister Gaara had seen practically everyday of his life. She should mean nothing to him just like she had in the past. But, she was different to him now. She�s changed. She had somehow transformed. In a way he couldn�t quite describe, in a place he couldn�t see with his eyes. Had her skin always been so flawless and pristine; soft and smooth to the touch? Had her lips always held such delectable curvatures along the sides of her mouth? Were her eyes always so full of expression and feeling? He probably would�ve overlooked it if he wasn�t being overly acute.
Is she going to continue to change in ways that he couldn�t see?
They continued to stare and regard each other. The light breeze flowed soundlessly through the ajar window. The silence was thick around them, it was almost suffocating. Even, the awkwardness of the moments before were still fresh. Temari was relieved Gaara had had finally awoken, but butterflies had blossomed from that funny feeling in her stomach. Why was he so focused on her? How long had he�d been awake? Why did he touch her cheek? How did her relief changed into something else. Something uncertain that left her feeling dreadful yet jittery with anticipation.
Gaara did not speak. He was apparently keeping his observations to himself now. She placed a hand on his good shoulder and gently pushed. This time his body was movable. He was pushed back till he was leaning back on his hunches. She felt a sudden chill engulf her body, as the blanket too traveled with Gaara as he leaned back, exposing her to the cold room. She was able to scoot out beneath him so he wouldn�t be sitting on her shins and sat up against the headboard.
Seconds flew by, she didn�t know how many. Gaara just continued to stare at her as if she were some science project, some specimen to be bottled and studied. From the way he was looking, one would think that she was the enigma of emotion with the unstable psyche. He had little to fear from her. She wouldn�t harm him intentionally. Yet he seemed to cautiously regard her as if she would turn into a demonic tanuki. Gaara�s thoughts were his and his alone. There was no way Temari could surmise what he was truly thinking.
Naze? Naze! Why has she changed!
Why should he even care that something was different? How could he explain this indescribable feeling? Why did his chest feel tight? Why did his insides feel this way? Why had the way she looked at him with her deep forest green eyes made his insides squeeze and twist in ways they hadn�t before. It was like his heart hurt, but not like before. This feeling was like a force was tugging on his heart, weighing it down. It didn�t hurt enough that he would try to ease the tension by gripping his chest. This feeling was an anomoly to him, startling and paralyzing in its novelty, filling him with some sensation that was fantastic as it was frightening.
What is this the feeling in my chest? Naze?
Only once before had Gaara ever been paralyzed with such bewilderment. Only once since the age of six had he been derailed from his mission of self preservation and confirmation to question another person�s existence besides himself.
Uzumaki Naruto�
Naruto�s actions puzzled Gaara. The leaf displayed undying devotion and fevor for his friends well being. By fighting for those he cared about, he would not die and he would not give up no matter how hard Gaara fought. The blonde nin had literally inched and crawled his way across the forest ground to make sure that the Sand nin was defeated and would cause no more harm.
Gaara remembered that day quite vividly.As a result, igniting curiosity and confusion over the meaning of life and what it meant to dedicate his purpose to someone else other than himself.
Why is he so strong?...
Ghostly murmurs swirled in his head. Memories and thoughts that clung to his sub consciousness, influencing his actions .
(Flashback: Yashamaru�s voice) �The thing that can heal a wound of the heart�is love�
Love�is that why he�s strong?
(Flashback: Gaara�s inner voice) �Love only yourself, and fight only for yourself.�
I do�but he�s still stronger�naze?�
(Haku�s voice) �The hardest feeling that anyone can feel� The feeling that you are not needed by anyone is this world.�
My existence will not disappear�I don�t want to disappear...
Temari and Kankuro were always trying to ensure his existence, trying to protect him, like when he had lain exhausted on the Leaf forest with the Uchiha and Uzumaki only steps away.
Don�t fight them. Let�s stop. His voice was weak. Defeated. Temari couldn�t believe her ears or her eyes. He was beaten. His blood marred his forehead. His body was drained of chakra. He couldn�t even sit up. Kankurou had to support him over one shoulder.
Gaara�s only previous knowledge of desire had been when he learned to find pleasure and eventually a reason to live in annihilating the many assassins sent to kill him. Shouldn�t that desire be enough to defend against all that threatened his existence? But still, Naruto had defeated him. Had Naruto�s own desire been stronger than his? Gaara realized that Naruto's strength came from the desire to protect his friends, to protect the ones that acknowledged his existence, to protect the ones he loved�
Naze? Naze! Why has she changed!
She fought to protect him�
A person protects the ones they love�
Temari had always been there to protect him, to ensure his existence, to protect the one she�
Naze? Naze! Why has she changed!
In that moment, he realized Temari hadn�t really changed.
It was him.
He had reached an epiphany that had shifted the foundation of his existence.
Abruptly, he got off the bed and proceeded to take his gourd.
�Where are you going?� Temari was alarmed as her gaze followed his motions.
�Out,� as he strapped the oversized burden over his back.
�You were hurt. You can�t�� Temari was already getting off the bed as he began to stride out. She reached to grab his arm
�Don�t tell me what to do,� his voice menacing as his eyes narrowed. The tone signaling he was preparing to be defensive, but going on the offense would be just as easy. The cap on the gourd popped; sand shot out and wrapped around her wrist just as her slim fingers wrapped around his limb. Her blood turned to ice. She froze. She had forgotten about the sand, that gritty bodyguard. She was expecting his control over sand to have wavered. She took a step back, but there wasn�t very far she could go because the sand�s grip was like a vise and prevent her from fleeing.
A gasp escaped her lips. �Please! Gaara!� Her hand tugged on his arm as the sand coiled even more tightly around her wrist like an abrasive snake. She hissed an intake of breath. He stared at her hand.
�I don�t want you to get hurt anymore.� After a pause, she added, �If you leave now...we�ll each be�alone.�
Indefinable shadows of emotions behind those chilly pale eyes of his.
�Come back and rest.� She gave a gentle yet insistent tug. �Who knows if you�ll ever have the opportunity again,� her voice was solemn.
�Please? Stay�with me? Neh?�
�Fine.� With that curt reply, the sand released Temari�s hand and retracted back into the gourd with a shuffling hiss. She retracted her hand as if she�d been burned; lightly massaging the circumference of her wrist where redness had begun to appear from the sand�s abrasiveness. The reddening of her flesh became more evident as Gaara crouched and retrieved the gourd�s plug. He capped the enlarge vessel, set it against the wall, and sat on the bed. His legs folded Indian style.
The last time he truly got a good look at her was during the battle in Konoha. How could the person he knew his whole existence change from one person to another in an instant. However, he knew it truly hadn�t been an instant. He didn�t know how long he�d been unconscious. Hours, days, weeks, but it wasn�t long enough. He could never get enough of the soundless oblivion called sleep which eluded him for so long.
�I�m tired, Temari.�
�I know you are.�
He sat up against the headboard, his back slouching as his arms hung almost immobile at his sides.
�Take off your shirt.� Temari softly ordered.
�Naze?�
To be continued�

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Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was actually double in length, but I�ve decided to revise.
(1) Yes, I know Gaara�s never met Haku, but Haku�s words I found very significant and his story arc so sad I wanted to include something.
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Pretty Little Killing Machine