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The Slant	By : tealeaf Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1138 -:- 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-The Slant
- 1
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies, I don't own Naruto.
Author's Notes: This is an alternative hetero pairing, a crack pairing if
you will. Nevertheless, the story remains a serious one.
The Slant
By: Tea Leaf/Banana Soap

Chapter 1

(�)

If asked, she never would be
able to answer. What had compelled her? How had it started? Why did it
continue?

The questions, common to her brain, cycloned through her
mind as she bit down on her already full and swollen lower lip.

In the cold light of day, her rational mind listed off
reason after reason. It had been listing the same reasons and more for the past
three years. It would have been listing them for the full six of their
acquaintance had she realized his intentions sooner. In the clinical world,
scrutinized by unforgiving daylight, she knew better.

But as the light faded, as her obligations slipped away, as
she was swallowed up in the warm shadows of the night, her objective mind held
no power.

After the sun set and the moon rose to watch guard for them,
all which held weight was the pounding of her heart. The heavy, throbbing
organ, pounding so hard inside her chest that the sound was deafening and the
powerful pulse buckled her knees.

He heard it, and he followed it, and he caught her as she
fell.

And once their bodies made contact, the heat consumed them.
And her brain was incinerated.

Sweaty palms roamed heavily, steadily over her body. His own
heart beating as hard and heavy as hers, so much so that his pulse hummed
through the veins of his hands. The beat was complimentary, ever increasing in
its speed and urgency, each egging on the other.

Her hands slid through his long, soft hair, pulling his lips
up to hers again as her bare skin purred against his. The heat was suffocating,
his weight was oppressive. And still she couldn�t get enough. Her smooth leg
slid up his hip, her muscled thigh rippling in response to the roll of his hip.
His tongue plunged into her mouth as her gasps escaped through open lips. Her
hands slid down his back as his anchored her hips, pulling her closer still,
pushing as deep as he could.

Her fingers slipped in the sweat rolling down the curve of
his spine, making her aware of the droplets rolling down the back of her neck
and between her breasts, heightening her awareness of her body, her awareness
of his.

His tongue followed the trail, laving her skin, cooling it
and heating it at the same time. Her fingers clenched, her nails digging into
his heavily muscled flesh.

Subconsciously, she answered her questions, answered the
questions that would be asked her if they were ever found out. She was alive,
more alive than she�d ever felt, more aware of it. And she was addicted.

(�)
The cold water pounded on her skin, freezing it and freezing
her into wakefulness. Dark eyes wide, she scrubbed him off of her. Like she did every morning.

The smell of bland soap followed her as she stepped out of
the shower stall. She quickly grabbed the rough towel from its rack on the wall
and scrubbed the rivulets of water from her skin. She bent at the waist,
flipping her chin length black hair over her head and squeezing out the water
before wrapping the towel around it as a turban. Straightening, she moved to
the mirror and stared critically at herself as she reached for her toothbrush
and toothpaste.

She hesitated for a second before setting about scrubbing
the taste of him from her mouth.

She stared at the mirror as she scrubbed. She still looked
young, despite being thirty-four. One of the perks of being a medicnin, some
would say. She found it misleading. A person�s face was supposed to be a road
map of their life. It gave others warning of where you had been, it held the
promise of where you would go. Her face had stunted growth. Maybe that was why�

Setting her jaw, Shizune cut off that thought before it
finished. Now was not the time for such speculation. The sun was rising, the
day was growing and she had responsibilities to attend to.

(�)

Shizune pinched the bridge of her nose in a vain effort to
dispel the already growing head-ache. It was only mid-morning and already the
paperwork was starting to get to her. She didn�t know why, but for some reason,
sorting and filing the jounin mission reports always weighed heavily on her
mind.

Giving herself permission for momentary respite, Shizune
stretched out her senses, checking on her fellow staff. Tsunade was in her
office, slacking off certainly, but at least she wasn�t asleep. Kotetsu and
Izumo were being surprisingly productive, working their way through the
categorization of mission commissions Konoha had received recently. She smiled
slightly; they�d proven to be good and loyal help to the Godaime administration
over the years. She was very grateful to them.

It was then that a foreign presence impinged on her mental
space. She sat up quickly, snapping herself back into reality and ducking her
head back into her paperwork. Forcing her brain to abandon any hope of
following the train of thought he�d slowly carved in her memory over the years.
She sternly shut down the back of her mind�s effort to strain her ears in the
direction of Tsunade-sama�s office as she heard the click of the Hokage�s door.

Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour and
still she was staring at the same report. It was a
very rare thing, to be able to rob Shizune of her ability to work. She hoped he was unaware
of his talent, but she knew better than to believe that he was. He was a genius
after all, not just because of raw talent, but because he had the mind required
to master that talent. She admired him for it.

And there he was again, stealing
her thoughts. She momentarily considered giving up and giving into them, but her
will quickly reasserted itself and pushed him from the
forefront of her mind. But his shadow lingered in the corners.

Much like he himself lingered on
the other side of her door. She ignored him.

The latch clicked and the wood
swung inwards and he stood, filling the space impressively.

She barely looked up long enough
to acknowledge him before lowering her eyes to her work once more.

�Tsunade-sama requested that I
leave you the report from the Kurosaki mission.�

His voice rolled down her spine like
melted chocolate. Warm, dark, sensual, and in a tone that she always made her jealous when she heard him use it with anyone else.

�Yes, thank you. That pile is
fine.� She answered, blandly and briskly as she motioned vaguely to one of the
stacks of paper lording over her desk.

He nodded to her,
maybe it was even a mocking bow, before moving into the room. She heard the
latch click behind him, but the lock never followed. His steps were silent
through the room as he moved towards her. She looked up slightly, eyes hidden
by her eyelashes, and simply appreciated his grace. His walk was a rolling
prowl and his presence filled the room. She knew he was doing it on purpose.
There were few people he walked for like that, and she knew instinctively that
the only time he ever meant it was with her.

�How was the mission?� she asked,
finally sitting up and leaning back in her chair. The question was purely for
show, she already knew how the mission had gone, he�d told her last night when
he�d gotten home from it. Told her brokenly between kisses and pledges, but
still told.

�It went well. Faster than
anticipated, it�s all explained in the report.� His words were cold, efficient
as he set the report where she�d asked, the same words and speech pattern he
used with everyone. But not everyone could see the heat in his eyes when he
looked at her. That heat, no, the knowledge that everyone else was met with
ice, forced her to repress a shiver in her spine. The creak of the leather
chair would have been unusual; anyone listening could have been alarmed.

He smirked. He knew. He knew she
knew he knew. And he relished the moment.

�So I see. Thank you for the swift
report.� She responded, equally formulaic in her words. She did not let him see
the knowledge in her eyes. She was facing the door. If anyone were to come in,
they would see. And they must never see.

He nodded again, holding her eyes,
melting her barrier. Her will set in and reinforced it. She could
almost feel the temperature change as his froze over in response.

He turned and left her office
without another word, the click of the door latch echoing in the room.

Shizune cautiously let out a deep
breath. But the tension stayed with her and would stay with her until she saw
him again. And then it would grow, and grow, and grow until she snapped from
the pressure.

An almost trembling hand reached
out and picked up the report he had held seconds ago, and brought it before
her. Her eyes swept through it swiftly, following the slim, perfect print,
smiling slightly to herself at what he had written down, even more so at what
he hadn�t. He wrote that they discovered an unexpected advantage and had
pressed. He didn�t write that he had sought out the advantage because he had
snapped first.

He�d told her though. Regaled her
with the details of every excruciating moment he�d spent away from her. Her ego
had swelled considerably. There was something just so delicious about having
someone like Hyuuga Neji so utterly devoted to you.

(�)

The further he walked away from
the Hokage tower, the heavier and more reluctant his steps became. It was
impossible to tell if one was only observing, but he could feel the steadily
increasing strain of his muscles.

He kept moving though; Hyuuga Neji was not a man to linger
unnecessarily. His business with the Godaime had been
completed and to waste time in the presence of her assistant would certainly
raise questions. Questions his uncle would not hesitate to ask and that he
would not be able to avoid answering.

In fact, it was toward his uncle�s
interrogation that he moved. He�d been gone for three weeks; he�d been supposed
to be gone for four. His uncle would expect his prompt return and explanation.

Neji had no real desire for a
second debriefing, nor was he looking forward to lying to Hiyashi about his
priorities and time of return to the village. If his uncle were to discover
that he had returned late the previous evening and not early this morning,
there would be more questions. And his answers would hold consequences.

He supposed that his family was
the main reason he agreed to Shizune�s request to keep their relationship a
secret. He understood that she wasn�t mentally comfortable with it and he
respected that. But over time, he would have put far more effort into
convincing her that they were ok if he didn�t have his own repercussions to
worry about.

If nothing else, his family would
never accept it, he would be exiled and Hiyashi would use all of his influence
to bring about her downfall in the eyes of the village. If that were to happen,
all the hard work he had done in effort to reconcile the main and branch houses
with the aid of his cousin Hinata, would be wasted. The branch children he had
managed to protect so far from the curse seal would be subjected to its
humiliation and horror. The fragile truce of the clan would crumble and things
would become even worse than before.

There were moments when he
couldn�t help but rage at the injustice of it. It was unfair that he curb his
life to suit family politics that shouldn�t even exist in the first place. But
then he remembered her calming hands that healed the blinding and volatile
emotions within him and reminded him that at least he could fix it. His
sacrifices would make sure that the next generation would be free of servitude.
And the generation after that would be free altogether. And the generation after that would be able to take that
freedom for granted, just like everyone else.

It was her confidence in him that
helped him really believe that he was doing the right thing. Maybe that�s why
it hurt even more to not be able to share it with anyone but her.

Closing his pale eyes briefly, he
gently pushed the thoughts of her to the back of his mind. Now was not the time
to lose himself to her, but he wanted her close by so that he could once he was
finished with his uncle.

The gates of the Hyuuga compound
loomed ominously ahead, their black wood testament to status, privilege and
power.

He did not enter through them.

Moving down a well beaten path,
Neji walked the length of the walls until he reached the small, worn out
entrance used exclusively by the branch family.

(�)

As the day faded into night, in
the same manner that it always had, he excused himself from the dinner his
uncle had thrown to celebrate his safe return. Ignoring Hinata�s curious look,
he reminded his uncle of his rigorous training schedule that he had avoided all
day.

He had long ago taken up the habit
of training his byukagan under cover of darkness, the goal being to enhance its
perceptive abilities.

He�d been training like this for years. Hiyashi had approved greatly of
the theory, even encouraging Hinata and Hanabi to adopt the same practice so
long as they remained within the delimitations of the compound.

As Neji was of the branch clan, he
had no training space in the compound as the main family did and so had no
choice but to go elsewhere. That was one of the perks of being of the minor
family. The freedom to leave the compound was one of the few they were allotted
that the main family was often denied.

He slipped out of the compound,
moving gracefully through the growing shadows of the streets and moving towards
the public training grounds. He�d left with the intention of actually
training; he normally did. But once he was finally
beyond the prying eyes of the village citizens, he couldn�t center his focus on
his training. With a slightly self-deprecatory half smile, he succumbed to his
greater desire and disappeared from the clearing in a whisper of smoke.

(�)

Hours later, he woke to the sound
of keys jingling in the lock of the front door. His eyes slowly opened and
blinked away the residue of sleep as he shifted, snuggling his head deeper into
the scent her hair had left on the thick pillows.

He waited patiently as she locked
the door behind her and slipped off her shoes. He listened as she moved into
her kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Her light steps then moved
towards him and he drank in the sight of her. Her body was silhouetted in the
slanted doorway. His eyes traced the supple outline of her figure, all soft
feminine curves.

She shifted, leaning against the
side of the doorframe, holding her glass of water with both hands in front of
her chest.

�You�re here early.� She said, her
voice soft and warm, he could hear her smile in it. She was pleasantly
surprised.

He felt his lips pull in response,
looking up at her from the pillows of her bed. For half a moment, he felt
almost like a child, hiding in his mother�s bed.

Her smile grew and she moved into
the room, the door scraping the floorboards as she closed it behind her. She
set her water on the bedside table and settled her knee on the bed. Her newly
freed hand slid softly along the side of his face, her fingers returning to
their favorite home as they buried themselves into his thick brown hair. He
shifted, rolling more onto his side rather than his stomach and reminded
himself that he no longer was a child and that this woman most certainly was
not his mother.

She leaned down, pressing her lips
to his for a moment before sliding onto the mattress beside him.
�That mission really drained you,
didn�t it?� she asked knowingly as she snuggled up to his skin.

He didn�t answer, only looked at
her enigmatically as he draped his arm heavily over her thin waist.

�Are you ok?� Her voice was frail,
her concern clear. He wasn�t sure what she meant. She�d healed his injuries the
night before, maybe she was worried she�d not healed them completely. Maybe she
was worried because he hadn�t spoken to her yet.

He�d spend the day talking, his voice
was tired. He was tired. But she made him feel less so.

He pulled her close, tucking her
head into his shoulder as he buried his nose in the scent of her hair and lost
himself in her presence.

�I�m fine.�
- 1
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The Slant