Part One: Insanity

"So, where do you want to go tonight?"

Iruka froze. It was a ninja's job to know who was in the room and when, to know what was going on at all times.

He knew who was in the Tower's lounge: himself and Kakashi.

He knew when: right then.

He had no idea what was going on.

Iruka straightened from leaning over the water cooler, plastic cup in hand. He turned.

Kakashi lounged in the doorway, hands in his pockets. His eyes--eye--flickered up from--

Had he been staring at Iruka's--?

No. Nooooo. Iruka turned the rest of the way around, just to be sure.

There was no one else in the room, but somehow he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Are you talking to me?"

Kakashi's eye cresented upward. "Who else?"

"Ah--" Iruka mentally reviewed his social calendar, and realized he wasn't losing his mind: he hadn't agreed to go anywhere that night with Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, the asshole who put his students through hell and back just because he felt like it. And yet, there Kakashi stood, asking him what he wanted to do as if it were all prearranged.

Realty had obviously slipped from Iruka's grasp at some point.

He *knew* he shouldn’t have had that squid for dinner last night.

"Nowhere?" he suggested, and shifted over to the lunch table. His bento box sat there. He stared at the leftover squid, then packed it up and chucked it toward the garbage. It landed in the bucket with a swish, and he sat down to eat crackers. Maybe he could convince Kotetsu to give him a muffin.

Hatake Kakashi sprawled in the chair across from him, smiling brightly--if the eye was anything to judge by. He folded his arms over the table and leaned on them. "The Icha Icha movie is out."

Iruka stared at the Jounin. A few choice insults came to mind--idiot, insane, lost your freakin' mind--but it was never smart to insult a Jounin. Especially one that might actually have lost his mind. "Ah . . . I can't." No, what Iruka obviously needed to do was get to the ANBU as quickly as possible. Do what everyone did since the Massacre, and get protection in case the stronger ninja actually *had* gone bonkers.

"You can't? Why not?"

Why not? It was a perfectly legitimate question, Iruka supposed. He thought frantically. "I'm, um, working on a new jutsu." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back.

This was the COPY NINJA. Man of a thousand jutsu. Now he'd want to know about it.

As if Iruka was psychic, Kakashi perked up.

"A secret jutsu," Iruka said quickly. "In private," he added, in case Kakashi *really* wasn't getting it.

Damn. Now it was going to get back to the Hokage, which meant he'd better actually have a jutsu thought up. He was going to have to get help for that.

Kakashi looked slightly put out--but it was hard to tell for sure, what with the mask.

Iruka saw his chance. "I, ah, have to go." He gathered up his things, tossing the rest of his lunch into the trash, and fled as quickly as he could.

Kakashi had--what? Had asked him out? Not quite. Had lost his mind. Yes, that was it.

Iruka headed toward the ANBU station, chakra flickering behind him to see if Kakashi was following. If the Copy Ninja was back there, though, he was being sneaky. Iruka couldn't tell.

Ibiki was at the ANBU station, scowling down at forms--which didn't mean anything. The scars pulled Ibiki's face into a constant scowl whether he was upset or not.

Iruka ducked into the room and closed the door, ignoring the annoyed look the Jounin shot him. "I think something's wrong with Hatake Kakashi," Iruka said in a quick whisper.

Ibiki waited.

"He asked me--" Iruka froze, realizing suddenly how incredibly stupid this would sound. "Well, we've never spoken except to argue," Iruka began to explain. Hair fell in his face, and he tucked the wayward strand back hurriedly. "And we've certainly never made any plans to see each other." He realized his shoe was untied and stooped to tie it, setting a box on the ground. That was when he realized he was carrying around an empty bento box. With a frown at himself, he threw it in the garbage and tied his shoe. When he glanced up, Ibiki was looking bemused. Iruka straightened. "What I'm trying to say is, we've never done any of those things, and the Copy Ninja just asked me what I want to do tonight."

"Kakashi?" Ibiki asked, eyes flickering up at the door Iruka was leaning against.

"Yes." Iruka didn't breathe a sigh of relief, thinking finally it would be taken care of.

"Odd that he'd think you were going out when you're not." Ibiki turned back to his paperwork. "But there isn't much about him that isn't odd."

Iruka paused. Nothing happened. "Wait--you mean to tell me you think this is normal?" That seemed a bit excessive. Iruka corrected, "For him?"

Ibiki set down his pen and looked up, brown eyes somber. "He once asked Itachi if the man wanted to have sex."

Iruka's mind whirled. He frowned. "Wasn't Itachi thirteen when he turned traitor?"

"I didn't say it happened before Itachi became a traitor."

It took a moment for that implication to sink in. Iruka blanched. "That's insane!"

Ibiki shrugged. "Kakashi doesn't like normal."

"I'm as normal as you get!" Iruka nearly shouted, stepping farther into the room. Ibiki was ignoring him, glaring down at reports again.

"Hmm."

"I'm a *school teacher*!" Iruka shouted.

"Yes. It's perfectly normal for Chuunin to yell at Jounin and tell the Hokage they don't think students are ready for the exams no matter what their Jounin instructors think--"

Iruka flushed. "Well, that was just concern--"

"--work two jobs--"

"The mission office is only part-time!"

"--still manage to have a social life--"

"*Everyone* has a social life!"

"--and take a giant shuriken in the back for an outcast."

"--I--that was--" Iruka blushed, flustered. "That was just the right thing to do! Anyone would have done it!"

Ibiki's eyes rose, bored below heavy brows. "Like I said. He doesn't like normal people."

"I constantly yell at him for late mission reports!"

Ibiki sighed as if Iruka really wasn't getting something, and looked back down. "I need to get some work done, Sensei. If you wouldn't mind closing the door on your way out?"

Iruka wanted to say something. He wanted to insist they do something about the obviously crazy Copy Ninja on his tail. Instead, he stormed out of the office--but closed the door quietly. He slunk back to the mission room.

Kakashi wasn't in sight.

Iruka settled down to work.

Surely that would be the end of it.

**********************

Part Two: The Set-Up

"Anko, *please,*" Iruka said, leaning out his apartment window.

In the building across from him, Anko sat in her bathroom window wearing nothing but a robe, painting her toenails. "Sorry, Iruka-kun. Hey, I'm off on a mission tomorrow night. Would you mind watering my plants?"

"Yeah, sure," Iruka said, slouching in the windowframe. "Leave the justu off your door this time, would you? I spent three hours trying to get out of that sticky crap you used."

Anko smirked. "I know. I have it on tape."

Iruka gave her a black look, but she wasn't paying attention--or just didn't care. His mind chewed over the stupid jutsu he had to create. "I'll give you a full body massage when you get back if you'll help me with this jutsu tonight," he offered, inspiration striking.

"Sorry, cutie," Anko singsonged. "Gai's going to be giving me a full body massage tonight."

He was pretty sure she was using that as a euphemism. He tried to erase the visual from his mind.

"So ol' one-eye asked you out, huh?" she asked, slanting him a wicked look.

"No," Iruka snapped. "He just assumed we were doing something tonight. The man's delusional, I'm telling you, and Ibiki won't listen." He flicked a chakra string at a pigeon below. The bird squawked and flew away.

"That's just Kakashi for you, sweetie," Anko laughed. "Hold him at bay long enough and he'll lose interest."

"And if I don't manage that?" Iruka mumbled unhappily, chin braced on his hand. Hair slipped out of his band and fell into his face. He ignored it.

"Then he'll molest you."

"Oh, *thanks,*" Iruka drawled.

Anko just laughed. "Kidding!" Then she sobered, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Sorta."

"Anko!" Iruka yelped, annoyance turning to alarm. Was he actually going to have to worry about--about--unwanted groping?

"Kidding, kidding! I mean, he might *try* to molest you, but if you're really firm about it he'll--"

A booming voice echoed from the front of the building. "Oh wonderful and most beautiful kunoichi! Please, tell me you'll accompany me on this perfect spring evening!"

Anko lit up. "That's my date!" she said, sliding off the windowsill. She yanked off her robe and slipped on a dress, never bothering to cover up. Iruka didn't bother to look away, either. She'd stopped being interesting when he'd turned fourteen, and realized breasts really didn't do it. She leaned out the window one last time, holding out a silver chain.

Iruka took it with a sigh, leaning across the gap and the alley far below. It was handy, he supposed, that the buildings were close enough to do things like this. Something about Jounin insurance being less if the ninja didn't have to jump so far from rooftop to rooftop--less wear on the landing.

He clasped the necklace, adjusted the charm, and watched her flash him a grin and vanish inside. A moment later Gai's voice boomed around them, proclaiming this was a goddess he'd been blessed with on this fine--

Iruka closed the window with a thump. He was going to have to find someone *else* to help him with the damn jutsu. He didn't even have any ideas as to what kind of jutsu to make. And this was normal for Kakashi? Hold him off, Anko had said. That brat. Just how was he supposed to do that?

**

Three days had passed since Hatake Kakashi had lost his ever-lovin' mind, and Iruka had been blessedly Kakashi-free.

He knew it was too good to last.

"Mission reports can be handed into Genma," he said, continuing his march down the street, arms full of papers to be graded. "I'm off work right now."

Kakashi fell into step beside him, eye curving upward happily. "I wasn't here to hand in a mission report."

Iruka kept from sighing. He knew that, but hope sprung eternal. "Is there some information you needed on a student? I can't divulge much unless you have a reason--"

"I just got back from a mission, you know. A-class."

"Mission reports can be turned in--" Iruka started again. He walked purposefully close to a fence so Kakashi would have to drop back a step. Kakashi just appeared on his other side.

"You didn't miss me?"

"Why would I miss you?" Iruka asked incredulously, turning for the first time to face his opponent.

Kakashi's smile got bigger, if the rounded mask was telling the truth. "Because you spent the last few days wishing you hadn't gone to Ibiki? Really, trying to turn me in to ANBU . . ."

Iruka started walking faster. Looking over had been a mistake, obviously. It had probably encouraged Kakashi.

"Hm, not why you missed me? All right, what about because you kept thinking about the man behind the mask?"

Iruka hopped up the steps to his apartment building, shifting papers around so he could get his keys free.

"Because I have a great ass?"

He stopped to give Kakashi an eye-rolling look, then shoved his way through the door. Kakashi stuck his foot in the frame, keeping it from closing. "Go out with me tonight."

Iruka blew hair out of his face, wondering if he'd look as asinine as he suspected if he used those little hair clips the teenagers used. Probably. "I can't go out with you. I have a jutsu due." And Anko hadn't helped at all.

"When it's done."

He thought furiously for an excuse. It was always possible to just say 'no,' but he'd never been a particularly suicidal man. Saying 'no' to ANBU Jounin just wasn't wise. "I can't."

Kakashi waited.

Then a truly evil idea occurred to him. "See, Anko's my best friend, and she's got this *thing* for you." Ha. Teach the other Chuunin not to help when he was in need.

Kakashi's face--the bit Iruka could see--clouded. "She's dating Gai."

"In a bid to find out more about you," Iruka lied blithely. "I can't break her heart like that." He gave his best apologetic smile, and slammed the door on Kakashi's foot.

Or would have, but the Jounin was fast.

Iruka breathed a sigh of relief when the hall remained empty, and went upstairs to his apartment.

**

Iruka rinsed shampoo out of his eyes, cursing himself yet again. You'd think after years of washing his hair, he'd have figured out how.

He needed to buy that stupid tearless shampoo, that was all.

When the suds finally stopped running and his face stopped burning, he shut off the water and yanked back the shower curtain.

Only to come face to face with Hatake Kakashi.

Iruka screamed and leapt back, yanking the curtain closed again. He plastered himself against the far wall, staring at dripping opaque whiteness.

And a shape on the other side.

Slowly, Iruka edged forward and pulled back the curtain, hiding all but his face behind it.

Kakashi sat on the lid of his toilet, flipping through a magazine Iruka had left there. The Copy Ninja turned to smile up at him, like a tiger smiling at its lunch. He was all coiled muscles and energy burning below the calm. Iruka could practically *see* the chakra boiling.

"I had an interesting experience last night," Kakashi said, entirely too mildly. He closed the magazine and stood, hands sliding into his pockets.

"What are you doing in my *bathroom*?" Iruka yelled.

Kakashi acted like he hadn't spoken.

"I went to talk to Anko. Just to clear things up."

"You--" He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Kakashi was standing in his apartment, in his *bathroom*, and he was naked. He eyed his towel. "My bathroom, Kakashi!" he said, appalled. "What are you doing here?"

"Anko wasn't . . . pleased. With me *or* you."

"YOU'RE IN MY BATHROOM!" Iruka bellowed.

Kakashi sighed and looked at him very blandly. "Yes," he said finally. "Now, if we could move on?"

Move on. Move on? "You broke into my apartment--"

"You lied to me." The words were oddly precise. Iruka froze.

He'd lied to an obviously insane, obscenely powerful ANBU Jounin. He smiled weakly, fingers clenching the plastic curtain. "Ah . . . It was a misunderstanding." He was starting to get cold. Water dripped down his back from his hair.

"Hmm," Kakashi said. It was amazing how much could be packed into a single 'hmm.' Volumes. Encyclopedias, even. Hell, a whole library could be packed into one of Kakashi's hmm's.

"I can explain--" Iruka began.

"I'm sure you can. Over dinner. Three days from now."

"Dinner? No--I can't--" Iruka began, glancing again at his towel. Things would be so much easier if he wasn't naked.

"It's a date." Kakashi beamed and sauntered out the door.

Iruka stared. Slowly, he straightened, releasing the curtain. Then he slumped back against the wall and slid with a spine-shuddering squeak to the shower floor. Three days. He had three days to figure a way out of this.

Things just couldn't get any worse.

*******************

Chapter Three: Kiddies

"Ibiki, he *broke* into my apartment!" Iruka nearly shouted, standing in his coat in the Jounin's doorway. The wind whistled around him, making his wet hair even colder than before. He ignored it.

"Iruka, what do you want me to do?" Ibiki asked on a sigh.

"I--I--stop him!"

Ibiki stepped outside, closing his door behind him. Wordlessly, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, turning the tip red with a deep inhalation. He blew smoke out, almost invisible in the dark, and looked at Iruka. "How?"

That stopped Iruka. He frowned. "Well--I don't know."

"I suppose I could arrest him. Do you think he's actually going to hurt you?"

The desert-dry tone had Iruka blushing, feeling like something of a fool. "Well, no, of course not. It's just--"

"So tell him no."

"I tried that," Iruka said through gritted teeth. "He doesn't listen." The wind picked up, threading under his coat, reminding him that he hadn't grabbed a sweater. Just his uniform, and he hadn't even bothered to tuck that in.

"So tell him again."

"It doesn't work!" Iruka said, throwing his hands up. "He--"

The door opened, and a knee-high girl poked her head out. "Daddy? Mom says if you don't come eat she's going to give it to the dog." She grinned, dimples bracketing her mouth. "Hi, Sensei!" she chirped.

"Hi, Miku," Iruka said, using every fiber of his Sensei training to summon a smile.

Miku vanished inside. Ibiki dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel, eyes flickering up. "Tell him again," he said, and left.

Iruka stared at the closed door hatefully. It wasn't going to work. He could tell Kakashi until he was blue in the face, but--

A child's laugh came from the house, and blended with the wind. Iruka smiled slowly. Maybe he could make Kakashi lose interest.

**

"So, you see Kakashi, I simply can't do it tomorrow night," Iruka said blithely, lie firmly rehearsed. He used his best innocent look, the one everyone bought no matter what horrific things he'd done. "I have a tutoring session. I just can't cancel it."

Trap set. He waited. Either Kakashi would back out--which would be a win--or Kakashi wouldn't--which would be a win when the children terrorized him all night long.

"Hmmm," Kakashi said thoughtfully, gazing upward. "I'll join you."

Trap sprung. Iruka gave another token protest or two--just to make it seem real--and walked away feeling rather smug.

Let the bastard be interested after *this*. It would be perfect.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?" Kotetsu asked, falling into step as they headed down the street.

Iruka just snorted.

"I mean, he's awfully attractive--and I don't even like guys."

"He's ANBU," Iruka pointed out. "I always said I would never date anyone more messed up in the head than I am, and he's *ANBU.*"

"Point," Kotetsu said with a shrug, and opened the door to the pub.

**

Children? Iruka glanced around his little apartment--recently made as child-proof as possible when one was dealing with mini-ninja. Konohamaru, Moegi, and Udon were currently drinking a frighteningly red drink--Iruka was pretty sure it was sugar and dye--while Miku and Reiko were fighting over who was Fujio's best friend--Kenji or Miku herself. Reiko, apparently, cared more about seeing the boys be friends than anything else. Iruka didn't quite understand it, but they were ten; it was hard to understand a ten-year-old at the best of times.

And after candy, cookies, and red "fruit" punch, this wasn't the best of times. He practically cackled when someone knocked at the door. "You guys be good," he said, and ignored the crash coming from the kitchen.

Casualties were something to be expected in a time of war.

Kakashi was beaming when Iruka opened the door, plastering his best innocent face back on. "Oh! Kakashi, I'm glad you're here," he said, slipping on his shoes. "I ran out of juice--" he'd poured the rest down the sink, "--and need to go get some more." He shifted, moving around Kakashi so the hall was clear. "Keep them entertained, won't you? We're working on reading. The book's on the coffee table." He smiled cheerfully, shoved Kakashi inside, and practically slammed the door.

Freedom felt wonderful. He nearly skipped down the hall.

**

He took his time getting to and from the store, and he went to the farthest store he could think of. Surely by the time he got back Kakashi would be worn out and ready to flee--and then Iruka could just put on a movie like he'd planned and let all the kids konk out on the floor until morning.

It was a perfect plan.

The sound of children screaming as he wandered down his apartment hall made him smile. He straightened his features out before opening the door, and stared around the room.

Kakashi stood in the center like a lone mast, all sails torn apart by the wind. Cushions were scattered around the floor along with chips and chocolate. The television was running, but no one was watching it.

"AGAIN!" Moegi bellowed, and ran straight at Kakashi. At the last minute the Copy Ninja caught her, flipped her around one arm and dropped her back on her feet behind him. She giggled madly.

Kenji and Fujio came out of the bathroom, whispering to each other, and Konohamaru started to sing, "Kenji and Fujio sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Were not!" Kenji said, bulleting toward Konohamaru.

"IRUKA-SENSEI'S BACK!" Miku screamed at the top of her lungs, proving Ibiki's quiet growl had nothing to do with genetics.

They mobbed him, but he'd expected that. Iruka held the grocery bag above their grasping hands, laughing cheerfully. If there was just a touch of an evil cackle to it, no one noticed. He waded through the seven children to the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder as he went.

Kakashi was still standing in the middle of the room, looking like he'd just survived a war. "Having fun?" Iruka asked sweetly, quickly getting a pitcher and mixing water and the disgusting red powder to make punch.

Kakashi stared at him. Then, somehow, he summoned a smile. "Oh, yeah. Great."

Iruka didn't gape, though he wanted to. Obviously the Copy Ninja really *was* insane. Or more persistent than Iruka had given him credit for.

Iruka just smiled brightly again. "Who wants punch?"

A chorus of high pitched squeals was his answer, and he happily poured more sugar water into plastic cups for each little monster. "Did you get them to do any reading?" he asked innocently, knowing full well it was nearly impossible.

"Ah . . . about that," Kakashi hedged, eye cresenting upward and a hand lifting to ruffle the back of his hair.

Iruka gave his best Disapproving Sensei look and tut tutted. "Well--did you get something to eat? There's pizza . . ." He gestured at the box, certain the ragamuffins had already eaten it all.

"Ah, no," Kakashi said. "But if you don’t mind--"

"Not at all!" Iruka chirped, and left Kakashi in the kitchen. He settled down on the couch, braced to spend the rest of the evening breaking up fights and rescuing lamps from sticky fingers. At least he would do it on a full stomach.

He managed to look apologetic when Kakashi came out of the kitchen empty handed. Then a child climbed up onto the coffee table, and Iruka had his hands full wrapping arms around the three others who tried to follow.

"I'm SUPERNINJA!" Konohamaru bellowed, and just as Iruka was about to say fond farewells to his kitchen chair, Kakashi scooped the little boy up and set him on his feet--off the furniture. In retaliation, Konohamaru turned around and kicked Kakashi's shins.

"Kakashi and Iruka sittin' in a tree! S-U-C-K-I-N-"

Iruka tossed a pillow at Kenji, effectively silencing the blond boy.

"Iruka-Sensei?" Miku said quietly, hovering in the doorway.

"Yes?"

"The toilet's overflowing . . ."

His face paled and he leapt up, bolting for the bathroom.

Reiko stood inside, staring down at the toilet bowl as water ran over. At least it was clear water, Iruka supposed. "We stuffed the balloons down there--thought they'd pop," Reiko said, her eyes stuck at the sight before her. Her socks were soaked.

"Balloons?" Iruka muttered. He sloshed through the half inch of water on the floor and picked the child up, setting her aside so he could peer down into the toilet.

Somehow, they'd managed to blow up condoms. He felt his face turn pink, and he stooped to give the water nozzle a violent twist.

"I think your balloons were bad, Sensei," Reiko said, flouncing from the room. "They were all slimy."

Iruka's face turned even more pink. "Yes, well," he muttered, starting the arduous process of fishing giant condoms out of the toilet. A shadow darkened the doorway, and he shot a glare up at Kakashi. "Not a word."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Kakashi said, grinning--from what Iruka could tell.

A child started to scream in the other room. Iruka began to rise, and Kakashi shook his head. "I'll fix it," he said on a long-suffering sigh, and left.

Iruka tried not to feel relieved. He just focused on getting the condoms out.

**

Kakashi had hung on for longer than Iruka had expected, Iruka had to give him credit for that. He'd stayed put through the rousing chorus of 'who can scream the loudest,' through the game of 'break Kakashi's spine,' the excitement of 'we found Kakashi-Sensei's weapons'--which was perfect, as then Iruka could scold Kakashi for having weapons around children--and the adventure of 'hide the toilet paper from Moegi.' And, to make things ever better, Kakashi's stomach had started growling halfway through the festivities.

Around nine the Copy Ninja had claimed paperwork and fled, and Iruka had immediately put in a movie with talking robots and a lion that saved the day, settled the children on the pull-out couch, and waited for them to drain out their energy. By ten three of them were asleep, Reiko and Miku were having a heated conversation about Kenji and Fujio--and Iruka couldn't *wait* to find out who had taught Kenji to sing 'SUCKING' instead of 'KISSING'--while Konohamaru and Udon ate popcorn and cheered on the lion.

Moegi had fallen asleep between Kenji and Fujio, and Iruka foresaw many boys in her future.

And Kakashi had left with the impression that this was what Iruka spent his days doing. Yes, Iruka felt he'd dodged that relationship quite nicely.

********************

Chapter Four: Chuunin. Again.

"Gai wants to challenge you."

"Gah!" Iruka said, nearly bashing his head on the cabinet as he jumped at the unexpected voice. He twisted, looking through the kitchen window to Anko's bathroom window. Her hair was already clean and brushed, teeth gleaming, make-up on. She was ready for her day.

He, on the other hand, had only gotten rid of the children an hour before and was still in his pajamas. It was his day off.

"Tell me you talked him out of it," he said, turning back to contemplate the interior of his cupboard. Cans of soup and a single mouse-chewed package of instant ramen stared back at him.

"Yeah. I reminded him you were a lowly Chuunin and it was beneath him to beat you to a pulp."

"Great," Iruka muttered.

"I also told him I'd do it."

Iruka flinched. He remembered what Anko had done to their Jounin Sensei. He'd helped, after all. "Ah, look, about that," he began.

"Don’t start. You owe me big for not beating you to a pulp, though."

Iruka nodded morosely. "You could think it a compliment that Kakashi--"

"Don't," Anko said, and there was a real warning in her voice this time. "I told you to avoid him, not send him to me."

Iruka winced. "Yeah. Well, you wouldn't help me with my jutsu!"

"How's that coming? And get me some cereal," Anko said.

Iruka pulled down a bowl and put Anko's favorite in it, then added milk, got a spoon and handed it through the window. She perched in her sill and ate. "The justu's coming along," Iruka said after a moment. "Some ridiculous rabid-squirrel summoning. Kotetsu's idea. It should keep the students entertained, and improve their summoning abilities."

"I didn't think they taught summoning at the academy," Anko said around a full mouth.

"They don't. So those skills can only improve, right?" Iruka said, smiling weakly.

Anko snorted. Milk misted across her knees.

"You are the very picture of womanly virtue," Iruka said blandly.

Anko stuck her tongue out at him. "Kakathi thtill chathing u'?" she asked around food.

"I think I got rid of him last night," Iruka said, and yawned so widely he felt his jaw pop. He rubbed a hand through his hair and padded around his kitchen, pulling his pajama pants up. They slipped back down around his hips again, almost indecent--except his baggy shirt hid them.

"Well, good for you," Anko said, setting the bowl down on Iruka's windowsill. "You've got a hole in your pants."

"Yeah," he mumbled, staring into the refrigerator. "Do you have any bagels?"

Anko grunted and disappeared. A few minutes later she sat in the window again, leaning across to hand him a bagel with cream cheese.

"Thanks," he said, taking it and straddling a chair. "How'd the date go?"

Anko's smile nearly split her face. "Gai is soooo romantic."

Iruka snorted. "He ought to be, the way he talks . . ."

"Candle lit dinners, walking under the stars . . ." she sighed wistfully. "And the sex was great."

Iruka tried not to roll his eyes.

"You think most of him is big, you should see his--"

"*Anko,*" Iruka said quickly.

She just laughed. "You'd feel it clear up your spine, baby."

Iruka winced. "Thank you for that lovely image," he muttered. "Didn't you have a mission? I was supposed to water your plants?"

"Postponed," Anko chirped. "Next week. Water my plants?"

Iruka rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course."

Anko grinned. "And Gai's hands--? To *die* for. Man knows how to use those big fingers--"

"*ANKO.*"

**

"So, as much fun as tutoring was, I was thinking a different date next time."

Iruka nearly misjudged his leap, which would have sent him plummeting to the forest floor, sixty feet below. Instead, he managed to catch a branch and swing to safety, huffing like a steam engine and plastering himself against the trunk.

Kakashi landed lightly in front of him. "You all right, Sensei?"

"Fine," Iruka gasped. "You--killed--I could've--"

"Nice jogging route," Kakashi said, settling back on his hips and glancing around. "I particularly liked the jaunt through the Forest of Death."

Iruka braced both hands on his knees and gave up talking, focusing instead on breathing.

And coming up with an excuse. He'd be damned if he was dating Kakashi, even if the Jounin was crazy enough to have withstood seven sugar-high children.

Maybe Ibiki was right. Maybe a firm 'no' would do the trick. "No," he gasped.

"I didn't like the jaunt thought he Forest of Death?"

He managed a glare up through the hair falling around his face. "Not--dating--you," he said between pants.

"Oh. Onto the sex then?" Kakashi asked brightly.

Oh, crap. Here came the unwanted groping, Iruka was certain of it. His eyes narrowed and he managed to pull a kunai from an ankle holster in under a second. It was a ninja thing.

Kakashi--noooo. Iruka blinked, and looked again. It really was hard to tell with the mask, but it looked like Kakashi was *pouting.*

"Sensei, I'm not sure if I'm more hurt that you seem to think you need to protect yourself from me . . . or if you seem to think you *could.*"

Iruka felt himself starting to turn red. He couldn't, of course. Not without some very creative moves and a great deal more chakra than he had.

But damn it, he could maim with the best of them.

"All right, so no sex right now. That leads us right back to dating. So . . . the new Icha Icha movie is out?"

Iruka holstered the kunai. He was breathing steadier, he noted with some relief. His shoe had also come untied. He balanced on one leg, knotting his laces with short, sharp movements before putting his foot down. "I'm not dating you, Kakashi-san."

"Kakashi, please." The Copy Ninja smiled.

"I am not dating you," Iruka said again.

Kakashi heaved a sigh. For just an instant muscles pressed against his uniform, and then they were gone again, hidden by baggy clothing. Kotetsu's words floated through Iruka's head, and he had to admit Kakashi was attractive.

He was also an arrogant prick who annoyed people just for fun.

And asked Itachi to have sex.

Really.

"So I should go back to appearing in your bathroom? That worked just fine last time."

The bastard seemed utterly pleased with himself.

"No!" Iruka snapped. He dragged his hands though his hair, yanking it out of his face. "I don't want to date you!"

"How do you know unless you try? You haven't even tried," Kakashi said, edging closer.

Iruka started to edge away, and realized there was still a tree trunk behind him. "So help me, if you mess with me I'll report you to ANBU."

Kakashi's single visible eye widened almost comically. Then it narrowed. He settled back on his hips again, arms folded across his chest. "So we're back to the bathroom senario."

"Don't break into my bathroom!" Iruka yelled.

Kakashi shrugged, looking infuriatingly smug. "You leave me no choice, Sensei."

Images of never showering in peace again assaulted his mind. "All right--all right!" Iruka finally snapped. "One date. One. And I get to pick the venue."

Kakashi beamed--there was no other word for it. "Of course, Sensei! What should our date be, then? More tutoring?"

Iruka glared, then looked away, thinking furiously. "Sunday," he said at last. "Sunday I have a . . . thing. You can come. Bring your uniform." He glared again, just because Kakashi was looking so pleased. "Now get out of my way so I can finish jogging!" He didn't wait for Kakashi to move, though he noted the Copy Ninja did. He just leapt, putting as much distance between them as he could manage.

Behind him, he heard, "Yup, nice jogging spot. Good view."

He glanced sharply over his shoulder. Kakashi smiled at him. He hadn't had to look over. Kakashi had been--

No. Nooooo. Iruka tried to put it out of his mind and put still more distance between them.

**

"Sooo . . . what is this?" Kakashi asked, hands in his pockets as he strolled along beside Iruka.

Iruka surveyed the two rows of ninja, inwardly smirking at Kakashi's tone of near-uncertainty. Good. Let the man worry. "These are the new Chuunin," he said, gesturing vaguely. "Passed during the last three tests." It took a surprising amount of time and training to get them up to snuff, even after they'd passed the tests. Every six months more were added to their ranks, and as they got better they were sent out to lead their own squad. The advanced Chuunin rotated teaching the newbies--it was tedious and boring as hell.

Today was Iruka's day. He smiled at Kakashi, not bothering to hide the vicious delight he felt at the Copy Ninja having to spend a day doing this. "Chuunin training."

"Oh," Kakashi said, his voice filled with forced cheer. "So . . . what are we teaching them?"

"Meditation techniques for dealing with emotional trauma," Iruka said near-gleefully. It involved a great deal of sitting silently while telling people to shut up and stop shifting.

They all knew how to meditate, after all. Now they had to learn how to do it for long periods of time--long enough to let their minds release anxiety over whatever they might have encountered.

Iruka smiled. "If you want to cancel our date--" he began, practically joyful at the thought.

"No no! No. I can help," Kakashi said. One gloved hand lifted, ruffling up the back of his hair even worse than a moment before.

"All right, everyone settle down!" Iruka bellowed over the group. He had the pleasure of seeing Kakashi jump and stare at him--Iruka prided himself on his set of lungs. "We're practicing meditation today. You have twenty minutes to ask questions and get yourself settled, and then three and half hours to meditate. Questions?"

A single hand lifted at the back of the room. It was shorter than everyone else's, and a pony-tailed head leaned around someone's shoulders to peer up toward Iruka.

"Shikamaru?" Iruka asked.

"Yeah. Doesn't this seem just a little bit like overkill?"

"No," Iruka said. "And if I catch you sleeping I'm going to shave your eyebrows." The class tittered and glanced around at Shikamaru, doubtlessly checking to see if he believed Iruka. He'd had Iruka as a teacher, though, and with a grimace settled back. He knew Iruka didn't make idle threats. "Anyone else?"

Silence hung over them.

"Good," Iruka said. "You have five minutes to get comfortable."

"I thought we had twenty!" someone whined from the back.

"Now you have two." Iruka glared. The man subsided.

It was the perfect date, Iruka thought later. They couldn't talk because everything was supposed to be quiet. He would have had to do this anyway. And every time Kakashi looked like he might pull out his book and start reading, Iruka glared at him.

Four hours of boredom, thirty minutes of leading the group in stretches to keep them from cramping, and then bolting down food, and another four hours of boredom. Yes, this was perfect. He was certain that Kakashi would get the hint and LEAVE HIM ALONE.

Iruka whistled as he watched the new Chuunin file out of the room, rubbing sore butts and muttering to each other. "Remember these exercises," he sang cheerfully. "Next week you have Ibiki, and you'll need them."

More grumbling met his words. Faintly, he heard Shikamaru sigh, "This is too much effort for too little benefit . . . I knew I should have been a banker . . ."

"Sensei." The voice was quiet, almost a purr as the last new Chuunin walked out the door. Iruka's skin prickled, the hairs on the nape of his neck lifting. "How about dinner?" the voice continued.

He swallowed and turned, taking a step back at Kakashi's proximity. "That's really annoying, you know," he snapped irritably. "That sneaking up on people thing."

An eyebrow lifted, Kakashi inclined his head, and the Copy Ninja took a step back.

Iruka blinked.

"Dinner?" Kakashi asked again.

"I can't do dinner," Iruka said quickly. "I'm meeting some friends."

"They could join us," the Copy Ninja suggested, hands in his pockets. He smiled, eye arcing.

"No--it's private."

"The jutsu?" Kakashi said dryly.

It took Iruka a moment to remember, and then he felt himself flush. "Yes. The jutsu. The secret, private jutsu."

"The rabid rabbit summoning jutsu?"

"Rabid squirrels," Iruka said stiffly.

"I could help," Kakashi said, though somehow he seemed like he knew the answer--and was finally starting to accept it.

"I don't think so. But thanks," Iruka said as an afterthought. He grabbed his coat and shrugged into it. Winter had arrived with a vengeance, and the air was cold. It nipped at his nose and ears, and he glanced at Kakashi's mask thoughtfully. Maybe the mask wasn't such a bad idea.

"I have a mission tomorrow," Kakashi said, wandering out into the chill without even a sweater. "Miss me?"

"Not likely," Iruka muttered. Cold air tickled his neck, and after a moment patting his pockets he realized he'd left his scarf at home.

Kakashi sighed. "Well, thoughts of you will keep me warm." He smiled brightly.

Iruka gave him a dark look. "Hopefully not too warm. And if they do, I don't want to know."

Kakashi chuckled, and Iruka cursed himself. He didn't want the man liking him! Laughter led to like, and like led to stalking! And appearances in bathrooms!

"You're something different, Sensei."

"I'm not something different! I'm not anything different! I'm totally and completely normal!" Iruka nearly shouted, frustration boiling over.

Kakashi just laughed, the bastard. "Of course you are. I'll see you when I get back. Enjoy your rabid rabbits."

"Squirrels!" He was talking to nothing. Kakashi had vanished. Iruka groaned and rubbed his forehead, then shifted his shoulders in his coat and started down the street toward the pub where he was meeting Anko.

**

"Maybe you should try dating him," Anko suggested over greasy pub food.

Iruka stared at her, aghast.

"I mean, he is cute. And you haven't really dated anyone since Hayate died--that was almost two years ago, Iruka." Anko popped a fry into her mouth and chewed, licking off her fingers.

"Are you insane?" Iruka asked incredulously.

"Some would say so," Anko answered cheerfully.

"I'm not dating Hatake Kakashi!"

"But why not?" Anko asked in a tone of complete reason. "He's got a great ass."

"Because he IS an ass!"

Anko snorted. "Please. He's been a complete gentleman with you."

Iruka pushed his beer aside so he could lean across the scarred wooden table, as if proximity might make Anko understand. "He broke into my house and accosted me in my bathroom."

"But he didn't touch you. Didn't even look, from what you said. I mean, hey, if I'd gone to all that trouble I'd at least have taken a peek behind the curtain and he didn't even do that."

Iruka just stared at her, mind too befuddled with alcohol to help him find the words needed to make Anko understand. Hatake Kakashi was dangerous, and not in that fun way. He was a prick, an arrogant asshole who didn't listen to anyone else. He was not dating material, despite his great ass.

"I'm just saying, you've put him through hell the last few days and he's made an effort to try and stick with it without unwanted groping. Maybe you should give him a chance."

"Give who a chance?" Kotetsu asked, sliding into the booth beside Iruka. Iruka moved over to give the other man room.

"Hatake Kakashi," Anko said, moving so that Izumo could slide in next to her.

"See, *I* told him that days ago but he wouldn't listen," Kotetsu said.

"I'm still not listening," Iruka snapped. "I'm not interested."

"He's been so nice," Kotetsu said.

"He doesn't listen when I say no!"

"But he hasn't done anything really bad, either. I mean, he could have just locked you up in the Hatake residence and kept you until you change your mind," Izumo said, eyes glassy from too much beer.

"And this is a selling point? 'Oh, well, he hasn’t raped you so you should date him'?" Iruka asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. "He broke into my apartment!"

"He didn't even try to peek at your jangly bits," Anko said.

"I don't like him!"

"So just screw him and tell him it won't work," Kotetsu suggested. "That's what I'd do!" He sobered for a moment, blinking comically. "I mean, if he were a she. But she's not. He's not. I mean--"

Iruka spoke over the drunken rambling. "He's a jerk."

"He's been really nice to you over the last few days," Anko said. "No jerk-y behavior."

"I can't believe you people! No! The answer is no! Now let's talk about something else!" Iruka yelled.

Anko sighed. "Fine, but I think you're making a mistake."

Iruka just glared her into silence. He was not making a mistake--whether or not Kakashi had been polite and kind and put up with all the shit Iruka had thrown at him without even complaining.

Kakashi was an ass.

Iruka rubbed his forehead and stared morosely into his drink.

*********************

Chapter Five: Unwanted Missions

Iruka had been thinking. He'd been thinking long and hard, and he'd finally decided that his thoughts were good.

Whistling happily in the empty mission office, he wandered around the area behind the large desk, digging through files and folders, looking for just the right mission.

He paused at a C-rank mission, eyeing the contents thoughtfully. Normally he'd assign it to whatever Genin team was being particularly shitheaded at the moment, but . . .

"Yo."

He jumped, nearly flinging papers all over the office. "Don't *do* that!" he bellowed at the silver haired Jounin perched on his desk.

Kakashi smiled cheerfully. "Do what?"

"Randomly appear in my office!" He grabbed for flying papers, shoving them back in the folder.

"This is the mission office. Not your office," Kakashi pointed out. "Unless you don't want me to hand in my mission report . . . ?"

"I am not giving you that excuse," Iruka snapped, and stepped forward to take it.

Kakashi pulled the single sheet of paper away. Iruka's eyes narrowed.

"Give me that," Iruka said through gritted teeth.

"Ask nicely." Kakashi's eye arched up.

The folder Iruka held in his other hand started to crumple. "Give it to me. *Now.*"

Kakashi tsk'ed at him. Actually *tsk'ed.* "That's not nicely."

"Damn it, Hatake!" Iruka bellowed, grabbing the mangled folder in both hands and hitting Kakashi with it as hard as he could. "Give me the damned report!"

Silver hair fluffed with passing air.

The two boys who had just entered froze and stared.

"We'll, uh, just drop this in the inbox," Shino said, and both boys backpedaled quickly. A moment later a single sheet of paper slid down the inbox slot.

"Well," Kakashi said cheerily, still holding his report, "there's two ninja who'll never turn in an incomplete brief!" Then the Copy Ninja turned to regard Iruka, still smiling. The bastard. "You seem stressed, Iruka."

Iruka rubbed his eyes and wondered how he was going to convince Shino and Kiba to ever enter the mission office again.

"We could meet over dinner tonight. Talk about it. Might make you feel bett--"

"Can't," Iruka snapped, shoving the mangled folder at Kakashi's chest. The ninja rocked back with the force of Iruka's push, slapping a hand over the papers automatically. "You have a mission."

Kakashi settled back on his heels--*still* on the desk, damn it--and opened the folder. He frowned. "Ah, Iruka, you know I don't have a Genin team anymore, right?"

Iruka glared at him.

Kakashi smiled. "That is, I'm pretty sure this is a team job."

"They want it done as soon as possible. You'd better get started."

Kakashi looked back at the contents of the folder. "Ah . . . I'm pretty sure I'm needed--"

"Oh, no. All the A and B class missions are handled. This one, though, this one needs someone with a special touch." Iruka smiled, then smiled bigger when Kakashi backed off slightly. "They're paying quite a bit of money."

Kakashi flipped the folder around so Iruka could see the contents--though, of course, Iruka already knew what they were. "Iruka-kun, they want us to turn a swamp into arable farmland."

Iruka's teeth nearly screamed as he ground down on them at the suffix. "That's right. Better get to work."

Kakashi stared at him. Then he stared at the folder. Iruka could imagine the Copy Ninja was thinking of smelly days using chakra draining jutsu, digging stumps out of liquid ground, finding and sealing all the bogs. It made his heart lighter.

"Are you punishing me?" Kakashi asked on a sigh.

"Yes," Iruka said. No reason to dither anymore. By this time, it should have been clear how he felt about Kakashi. Obviously, Kakashi needed things made painfully clear.

"Oh." Kakashi stared at the folder once more, then finally hopped off the desk and wandered out of the room.

Iruka watched him go with vengeful satisfaction. Then he realized Kakashi had taken the mission report with him.

**

When Anko didn't answer her phone, Iruka only gave it a moment's thought before climbing between the windows and into her bathroom.

He glanced at the girly things all lined up along the sink, and brushed past the pair of fishnet hose on a hanger hooked over the doorframe.

Her bedroom looked like a tornado had hit. The blankets had been thrown on the floor, there were clothes all over, books scattered in a pile by the bed--even weapons lying randomly on the nightstand. Iruka just snorted a laugh and walked through the bedroom, trying not to see the box of feminine *things* or the open condom wrapper. He only hoped the condom wasn't lying around somewhere.

Now, if he remembered correctly, Anko kept her pens in the linen closet--

A soft little noise had him freezing in the short hall between bedroom and living room. Iruka pulled a kunai and crept closer, edging down the side of the wall and peering around the doorway.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, closing his eyes quickly against seeing Anko and Gai smooshed up together on the couch.

He heard them break apart--he didn't dare look over--and a moment later Anko laughed. "Iruka? What are you doing here?"

He cracked an eye and looked up. "I can't find a pen, and I owe the kids their papers before winter break . . ."

"Ah, the job of one of our wonderful Sensei of the Academy," Gai began, all smiles despite the fact that Iruka had interrupted smooching time.

"Um, yes, thank you, Gai," Iruka mumbled.

Anko was adjusting her bra--oh, gods, Iruka didn't want to think why it needed adjusting--as she hopped off the couch. "Cut it out, Gai."

"Of course, fair maiden," Gai said, beaming. "I only wanted to show Iruka my respect!"

Anko stopped in the hall and looked back, eyes full of laughter. "You're a doll." Then she turned and started rummaging through the linen closet.

"Iruka-Sensei, while you're here--"

Iruka braced to be challenged, remembering what Anko had said.

"--do you mind telling me what great and secret mission you gave to my Eternal Rival? He has been working long into the evening, and when I ask he says only that he does it for your love!"

Iruka blanched. "What? He does?"

"Well, no. He says--"

"Iruka gave it to me!" Anko piped in, leaping past Iruka and onto the couch. Gai jumped up as well, picking her up and swinging her around, his hands almost wrapping around her waist. Anko nearly squealed in delight. Iruka watched, bemused. When Gai lifted her higher--higher than he was so they could nuzzle, he looked away and cleared his throat.

"I only have one pen left, I guess. Check by the phone," Anko said without looking around.

"Wait!" Gai said, putting Anko down. Anko pouted. "What did my most Esteemed Rival do to earn such a punishment?"

Iruka peered back at them. Anko's eyebrows rose suggestively. "Punishment, Iruka?"

He felt the blood rise to his face and fought it back down. "He was an asshole."

"Ah. Asked you out again, did he?" Anko said, smirking.

"No," Iruka snapped back. "He--" Suddenly, it all seemed very childish. Iruka continued anyway. "He wouldn't give me his mission report." In a mumble, he added, "And then he asked me out."

"Kakashi is most desperately in love with you, you know," Gai said, oddly solemn.

The blush grew and mutated into an angry flush. "He's not in love with me!" Iruka shouted.

"Well, that's true. But he does certainly want to woo you with tender kisses and heartfelt declarations of lust!" Gai raised a fist triumphantly, tears sparkling in his eyes. "It is his Springtime of Youth, and he is tempted by the good in you, Sensei!"

"There, there, baby," Anko crooned, petting his arm. "Just because Iruka's a jerk--"

"Wait--when did *I* become the jerk?" Iruka yelped.

"When you made him go clean out a swamp on his own," Anko said sharply.

The tears in Gai's eyes vanished. He stared at Iruka. "He's cleaning out a swamp?"

Iruka mentally groaned. "Yes. He's cleaning out a swamp."

"That's . . . degrading to someone of his talents," Gai said slowly, cheeks starting to pinken with anger. "No wonder he hasn't told anyone! He's been humiliated! I shall have to tell him that he means no less to me in my eyes! That his manhood has not been besmirched! That I do not doubt his ninja abilities!" The tears were back.

Iruka glared at Anko for starting this, but she was busy soothing her overemotional boyfriend. "Maybe," he heard her say, "you could just challenge Iruka for Kakashi's honor--"

"I have to go," Iruka said quickly, grabbed a pen and fled back through the windows.

**

Two days later, Iruka was sitting in the mission office when he smelled something rank. It simply got worse and worse, and he was starting to look for a dead rat when the office door opened and a Thing walked in.

It walked like Kakashi. But the silver hair was gone, and there was no black uniform. It would have been better if it'd been uniformly brown, but it wasn't. It was black and green and brown, with disturbing hints of silver at the top.

Iruka found himself covering the lower half of his face in an attempt to lessen the smell. It didn't work.

Somewhere under all that slime, a single visible eye arched upward. "I have a mission report for you, Sensei."

Iruka had to wonder if Kakashi's ability to say 'sensei' and make it sound like a curse was innate or if he worked at it. Then Kakashi held up a paper, and Iruka stopped thinking.

He wasn't expected to *take* that, was he?

"Uh, you can just leave that on the desk," Iruka said, getting out of his chair and backing away. His eyes were starting to water.

"Oh?" Kakashi said, voice frighteningly innocent. "Don't you want to take it from me? You were so insistent on that the other day…"

Something gleamed in a long, wet, slimy stripe up the paper.

"No. No, that’s okay. Just put it down," Iruka said quickly. "And next time you can shower before you come in." His throat was stinging.

"Regulations clearly state that mission reports should be turned in as soon as the mission is complete," Kakashi said somberly. "Did you want this?"

The smell was making Iruka gag. He fought back the reflex. "Oh, gods, please *leave,*" he whimpered.

"Oh? Did I offend you somehow, Sensei?"

There it was again, that sensei-curse. "Kakashi--"

"Kakashi!" Tsunade bellowed, blackening the doorway. "What the hell are you doing here, smelling like that? Go *home* before you stink up the Tower further! Do you think I *want* my offices smelling like a sewer line? Good gods!"

"Of course, Tsunade-sama," Kakashi said, eye pinning Iruka in place. "Sensei, I'll be collecting my debt for this job later." And he vanished.

Iruka dashed to open the windows, sticking his head out and gulping down clean air. He could hear Tsunade muttering as she stormed back down the hall.

With the source removed, the smell was already starting to fade. Still, Iruka suspected he'd have lingering hints of it in his clothes for eons.

And what had Kakashi said? Something about a debt? The Jounin had lost his mind. Iruka had managed to push him over the edge, and now unwanted groping was probably the least of his worries. He had to escape. Now.

Winter break was coming up. Only one week, but one week was enough for anger to fade. There had to be a mission elsewhere that would take a week. Iruka hurried to the stacks, rifling through them swiftly. It didn't take long before he found a C-rank mission. Snow country, which would be positively *frigid* this time of year, but heck--it was cold everywhere. Might as well go somewhere where it was expected to be cold. Somewhere where no Jounin was looking for him.

He could leave Saturday--no, Friday. As soon as classes were done. That meant he only had to avoid Kakashi for one night. He could manage that. He'd sleep over at Anko's. Surely Kakashi would be busy scrubbing--Iruka gagged at the memory of the smell, and tried not to think about what Kakashi would be scrubbing out of his hair.

The mission would take almost the full week of winter break, and then--then he could bury himself in work, before Kakashi buried him.

Yes. Yes, that would work just fine. And by the time he got back, Kakashi would be so disgusted with him that this whole stupid thing would be over.

Iruka sat down weakly in his chair and started counting the hours until he could leave.

***************

Chapter Six: Disease

He'd forgotten how extremely cold Snow Country was. Oh, sure, someone said 'Snow Country' and it conjured images of white frosty ground covered in mounds of fluffy snow. It left out, however, the biting wind that whipped said snow into a person's eyes until they couldn't see. It didn't remind anyone of the way the breath was stolen from your very lungs, your throat drying out until you started to cough so much it hurt. The way your toes and fingers froze, and how if you wore too many socks to try and keep them warm it just cut off blood flow so that your toes froze even worse. How your teeth got cold, stinging through your jaw. How if you wrapped your scarf around the bottom of your face it made your skin moist, so that when wind hit a bit of flesh it didn't just dry, but iced, and the next thing you knew your face was raw and chapped. How if you didn't cover your face with your scarf you couldn't hardly breathe, and your lips dried out until they cracked and bled.

Iruka *hated* Snow Country. He knew that now. He understood that saying 'Konoha gets cold in the winter' was *nothing* like saying 'Snow Country gets cold in the winter.' He knew it bone-deep, and he would never ever again do whatever it was he'd done in a past life that had cursed him so badly in this one.

He must have been someone who talked at the theater. It was the only explanation.

He staggered into his apartment building, sweating profusely under his coat and yet still shivering with remembered chill. His bones ached and his muscles were sore from shaking. His nose would *not* stop running, and his thoughts were starting to get loopy. Even his stomach was quivering, had been for hours, and all he wanted was to get home so he could vomit peacefully in his toilet instead of the gutter.

He opened his door and squinted at the light. Light?

"Yo."

His heart fell. "Oh, gods," he whimpered. "If you're going to kill me, please just do it quickly."

"Why Iruka-Sensei," there was that curse again, "what makes you think I'd want to kill you?" The words were practically purred. Danger! every instinct Iruka had screamed. Sadly, it was muffled by the building headache.

"Look, you have every right to want my head after I made you change the swamp," Iruka said, too tired to defend himself. "But please just let me into my bathroom first."

Kakashi unfolded from his couch, tucking away the ugly orange book. "Why? Need to shower?" He was standing in the way. Hell, Kakashi could have been across the room and he still would have been able to block in the way. Iruka wanted to cry.

Something worse than someone who talked at the theater. He'd been the author of whatever books had inspired Jiraiya to write the Icha Icha series.

"I'm going to vomit," Iruka said, as clearly and precisely as he could. The world was wiggling unpleasantly, both inside and out, and he was trying not to let Kakashi know. It was about to not matter at all, though. Vomiting generally made things pretty clear.

"Well, that *is* an excuse you haven't used before," Kakashi said thoughtfully. "I give you points for creativity."

Bile rose.

Iruka bolted for the hall, Copy Ninja or no. Then there was a black shape in his path, and his stomach was heaving--

"Hell, you *are* going to vomit!" Kakashi said, and Iruka was nearly yanked off his feet on the way to the bathroom.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made the toilet on his own. He didn't make it with Kakashi's help, either, but the trashcan was better than nothing. Stomach acid stung his throat and dribbled out his nose. He felt hands sweep back the hair that had come loose from his hairband, and was infinitely grateful.

"Iruka, you know you have a fever?" Kakashi asked, alarm entering his tone.

Iruka groaned and nodded once he was sure he wasn't going to fling barf around with the motion. He felt more than heard Kakashi sigh, mutter, "Vengeance can wait," and then hands were yanking off his coat.

"Ah--cold--" Iruka protested weakly.

"That's because you're burning up." Kakashi's voice was desert-dry, and Iruka knew that it was more important to cool down than to feel warm, but he wasn't happy about it. "This is gross," Kakashi muttered, stripping off Iruka's sweat-soaked shirt. Iruka started to shiver again, sniffing in an attempt to keep snot from running down his face. He heard water running, and then something wet and *cold* swept along his spine.

"ACK!" he protested, nearly shoving himself against the toilet in an effort to escape the cloth.

"Don't be a baby," Kakashi muttered. "I can't believe you made yourself sick trying to avoid me. I wasn't going to *really* hurt you, you know. And if this is about dating me, you could have just said no."

Iruka twisted around to stare incredulously at Kakashi. "I *said* n--" the washcloth ran over his face, and he yanked his head away. It was a mistake. The whole world spun, and an orchestra took up a bass tempo in his skull. "Oh, gods, kill me," Iruka whimpered, and gave up trying to fight. He sat and shivered miserably while Kakashi wiped sweat off him before dropping the cloth in the sink and leaving the bathroom.

The toiletbowl was the only thing that really understood him. It was the only thing that loved him anymore. He whimpered and shivered and clung to it and promised all his ancestors that if they'd just come rescue him he'd light candles at their shrine *every* week. No, no, *twice* a week.

"Here," Kakashi said grumpily, reappearing with a blanket in tow. He draped it around Iruka's shoulders, rubbing his upper arms briskly.

Iruka relaxed a little.

"Can you keep down chicken broth?" Kakashi asked, voice quiet.

The very thought of the smell of it had him lunging for the toilet again.

"I guess that's a no," he heard above him, as Kakashi again scooped his hair out of his face.

Iruka whimpered. His throat was raw from coughing, and the acid only burned it further.

He really needed to scrub his toiletbowl.

Eventually, he settled back in the corner again, staring at nothing. Even his eyeballs hurt. "You are white," he mumbled as Kakashi stood, rooting though his drawers. "And you are round."

Kakashi stopped and looked at him. "What?"

"I'm writing an ode to the toiletbowl," Iruka croaked. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kakashi's shoulders begin to shake, and the man's head shook back and forth with bemusement. "You are two feet, off the ground," Iruka continued faintly.

"I think you need some sleep, Sensei," Kakashi chuckled, kneeling beside him with a hairbrush.

"You didn't curse at me." He watched the Copy Ninja warily, half suspecting a trick.

Kakashi stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and reached over to tug the hairband out. "I've never cursed at you."

"Sure you do," Iruka said, closing his eyes as the tines swept through his hair, pulling it away from his face. "Every time you call me Iruka-Sensei."

The stroking paused. "Hm," Kakashi said simply, and kept brushing.

Ice had tangled it--and Iruka would never be able to figure out how *ice* could tangle hair--but Kakashi was careful. He tugged the snarls out gently, and then braided it all back and banded it once more.

"Chamomile tea?" Kakashi asked softly.

Iruka only whimpered and tried to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders. If he just pretended it was all a dream, maybe he'd stop feeling like shit. It was a long shot, but stranger things had happened.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there before the next bout of nausea hit and he was hovering over his friend the toiletbowl again. Kakashi wasn't there, but his hair stayed out of his face.

"When all the world, is going to crap," he croaked as he fell back against the wall, "you . . . uh . . . you fix it all, in a snap."

"Ode to the ToiletBowl, still?" Kakashi asked, appearing in the doorway.

"You take my puke, and bitter bile," Iruka murmured, eyes half closed.

Kakashi just chuckled and knelt beside him again. "Here. Drink."

Iruka eyed the mug as if it might leap up and bite him.

"Chamomile. It should stay down," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka kept eyeing it. In order to get to it, he had to unfold from the warmth that was his blanket.

As if reading his mind, Kakashi blew on the top of the liquid and then held it up to Iruka's mouth. Iruka sipped gingerly. "Good," he croaked.

"Thank you," Kakashi said. He put the mug down and tugged off a glove, sliding one hand under the edge of the blanket to rest it against Iruka's neck.

Iruka felt himself start to color, and was really too sick to care. He was still wearing pants, after all. And his shoes. He sighed.

"Still feverish. We should get some food into you so we can get some pills into you," Kakashi said.

Iruka groaned at the mention of food.

"All right," Kakashi said wryly. "After you're done puking."

"Thanks," Iruka whimpered.

**

He was only vaguely aware of what was going on. At some point, he'd stopped puking. That was nice. He'd really wanted to keep his stomach lining. Since childhood he'd dreamt of he and his stomach lining growing old together, telling stories together, not puking together. They'd complain about hot peppers and whippersnappers.

That could have been the fever talking, though.

Somehow, he ended up on the couch being spoon-fed broth. When he came to enough to realize what was happening he struggled, embarrassed, and ended up spilling luke-warm broth on Kakashi.

"Sorry," Iruka mumbled, already falling back into a half-doze.

"No problem," Kakashi said, but he didn't sound like it was no problem. He sounded resigned. He also dug through Iruka's closet until he found a clean shirt--it was baggy on him. Even more than his normal shirts were.

Iruka peered at him through one slitted eye. "You're really little, aren't you?" he said sleepily, whispering to keep his headache to a minimum.

Kakashi looked at him, one eyebrow arching. Iruka realized that he could see both eyebrows, and further realized Kakashi had taken off his forehead protector and mask. There was a faint tan line in a triangle around one eye. "I suppose I'm big enough," Kakashi said wryly.

"Skinny," Iruka mumbled, closing his eyes against the light--even though only the kitchen light was on. "You should eat more."

The amusement in Kakashi's voice was clear. "Of course, Sensei." It wasn't a curse this time, either. "Drink more broth. Then we'll see if we can't get something in you to keep your fever down."

"'m I still feverish?" Iruka asked disinterestedly. He was cold and hot by turns, and he was certain his toes were never going to warm up.

"Drink the broth."

Iruka snuggled farther into the couch. "Sleep," he mumbled.

"Broth," Kakashi shot back.

Iruka ignored him with the singlemindedness of the ill and miserable. He heard a sigh, and a moment later he was lifted. He would have been thoroughly embarrassed to find himself sprawled across another man's lap normally, but his throat hurt too much for him to care. All he wanted was to sleep, and Kakashi wasn't letting him.

He whined wordlessly and turned his head, inhaling the clean scent of his laundry detergent and warm male skin. A faint memory of summer days with Hayate came to mind, and he had to fight the sudden urge to sink his teeth carefully into the pale skin of Kakashi's neck.

Kakashi wasn't Hayate.

"Come on, Sensei," Kakashi murmured, joggling him slightly. "Drink."

It was too hard to fight. Iruka rolled his head back up and drank when the bowl was pressed to his lips, wincing as his throat burned. They got the rest of it down him, and then Kakashi handed him water and pills.

He swallowed them wordlessly, his throat burning with the effort. "Oh, gods, just kill me," Iruka whimpered, rolling back into Kakashi's narrow chest.

"If you're healthy enough to want to die, you're not going to," Kakashi said, and the words rumbled through his bones and made his voice deeper.

"You're too cheerful about this," Iruka said, cracking an eye and peering up at the Jounin.

Kakashi smiled down. "Well, you did stick me with converting a swamp into arable land. I think I'm entitled a little glee."

"Fucker," Iruka muttered.

Kakashi smiled, and it was just as bright and cheerful without the mask as the single eye had indicated. "I like you like this, Sensei. All warm and pliable . . ."

"Don't molest sick people. Sicko," Iruka grumbled, trying to hold himself as still as possible so his head would hurt less.

Kakashi chuckled, and it jiggled him. Iruka winced. "Sorry," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka closed his eyes again and let his head rest on a muscular shoulder. He felt the sigh, even though he didn't hear it.

"Good thing your breath still smells like vomit, Iruka," Kakashi murmured, so quietly Iruka almost didn't hear it. "Or it would be more temptation than I could take."

Iruka thought about protesting, but the drugs were kicking in. His headache was fading, and his throat didn't burn quite so much. As the pain lessened, his body demanded sleep.

He slipped under without a fight.

**

He woke on the couch, soaked in sweat. The fever was back; he could feel it in his muzzy head and the fine shiver along his arms. Iruka dragged himself upright, realized he was still wearing pants even though his shoes were gone, and glanced around.

His kitchen was a mess, but it had been a mess when he'd left a week ago. This was an all new mess, though, and there was a note on the coffee table sitting between a glass of water and dry toast. Pills clustered together at the base of the glass.

"Iruka," the note read, "Had to run. Take these. Eat this first. Go back to sleep. I called you in sick. There's more chicken broth and some soup in the fridge."

There was no signature, but it didn't really need one. Iruka groaned and rubbed his temples, then dutifully ate the toast and took the pills.

Then he collapsed back into bed.

**

"Iruka--"

He dragged the couch pillow over his head to bury the noise, and promptly dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Holy shit. You stink," Anko said, standing in his doorway.

"'m sick," he mumbled. It had been too much work to go to bed, so he'd remained on the couch for the day.

It had been too much work to even *think* about showering, so he hadn't. The fever had gone down or broken entirely, and he could tell he would survive.

Sadly.

"Whoa. When I saw Kakashi leave this morning in your shirt--which looked too big and *oh* so cute on him, by the way--I thought maybe you'd made up."

"Fuck off," Iruka mumbled.

"You hurl on him?"

"Almost." He pulled the pillow off his head and peered at Anko. "Could you get me some soup? It's in the fridge."

She kicked the door closed and went tromping across the floor in her boots. Iruka winced.

"Wow. This is good soup," Anko said reverently. "You make it?"

"Does it look like it came from a can?" he grouched back. He was highly aware of how good the soup was, and the fact that it was all freshly chopped--which meant Kakashi had gone elsewhere for the vegetables in the middle of the night--and that it had been left in little bowls so he could just stick them in the microwave and voila! Soup.

He was starting to get a major guilt complex going.

"So . . . Kakashi was here . . . all night . . . and nothing happened?" The microwave beeped, and Anko grabbed the soup and a spoon and wandered over.

"Nothing happened," Iruka mumbled, sitting up. His voice was hoarse, nearly a croak. Another coughing fit broadsided him, and he nearly doubled over with the force of it. Gods, his throat hurt.

"So . . . he came here after you pulled that swamp shit with him . . ."

"And the kids. And Chuunin training," Iruka muttered, taking the bowl.

"And he saw you were sick, made you soup, didn't leave until this morning . . . and he didn't even take advantage?"

Iruka had a sudden, clear memory of wanting to nibble on Kakashi's neck, and blushed hotly. "No." Breath against his temple, a strong heartbeat under his cheek, wiry muscles in a strong arm supporting his back. Careful fingers brushing his hair back and braiding it.

Oh, gods.

"So . . . you might even say he was . . . a *gentleman*?"

"Fuck off, Anko," Iruka mumbled miserably, and took a spoonful of chicken soup.

"In fact . . . you might say that your accusations of him being insane were . . . unfounded?"

"I hate you right now," he muttered around a potato chunk.

"I'm just saying." Anko shrugged. They sat in silence for a minute while she studied him. "You really do look like hell."

"Thank you," Iruka growled.

"I mean, really."

"Get out."

Anko laughed and stood. "You owe the boy an apology."

"'The boy' is older than you are."

"You're dodging the point. You owe him an apology. A big one."

"I know. I *know*," Iruka groaned.

"Seriously, Iruka. He put up with a lot of shit for you, and then he did this."

"I *know*!" Iruka shouted, then clutched at his head as it exploded. "Gods, just get out! I know! I owe him big! I misjudged him! Get out!"

Anko's laughter hung in the air long after she'd gone.

**

Iruka had half expected Kakashi to come by, but he didn't. By the time Iruka was better and back to work at the school and the mission office, he kept expecting Kakashi to come by.

He didn't.

He did come in to drop off a mission report and pick up another assignment. He smiled pleasantly and said Iruka was looking better, and then left.

Iruka was left feeling flabbergasted and more than a little cheated. He was supposed to choke out an apology and then tell Kakashi he still wasn't interested.

Except he kept remembering the thu-thump of a heartbeat, and the peculiar Kakashi smell of forest and carrots with just a trace of dog. Clean dogs.

And still Kakashi didn't come by.

"Hey," Kotetsu said, a week and a half after Iruka had returned from his mission. "Isn't that your stalker? How are things going with him?"

Iruka flinched and glanced around the pub and sure enough, there was Kakashi standing with Asuma, casual as ever. "I, uh, don't know," Iruka mumbled. "He's stopped chasing me."

"That's what you wanted, right?" Kotetsu asked, confused.

Iruka rubbed a hand through his hair--down, because he'd broken his hairband earlier--and scowled at the tabletop.

"Iruka still owes him an apology," Anko chuckled, sitting on Gai's knee. "Hard to apologize when he's not around anymore."

"Now he's around!" Kotetsu pointed out. "Now he's right there! There! *Right* there! With Asuma! Iruka, you aren't even looking."

Iruka stared at his beer. "I know where he is, Kotetsu," he mumbled. "Now isn't exactly the time."

"My Eternal Rival would never make you grovel," Gai said solemnly. "I believe he thinks he's doing what you wanted."

Iruka stared at his beer.

"It is what you wanted, isn't it?" Gai asked, voice oddly subdued.

Iruka sighed, and stared at his beer.

**

The guilt was eating away at him. He kept remembering the smell on Kakashi when he'd come into the mission office after the Swamp Incident--which would forever be capitalized in Iruka's mind--and then remembering the very careful way Kakashi had braided his hair back. Yes, indeed, the guilt was going to kill him.

He finally screwed up his courage and went the Hatake residence.

It was old, nearly as old as the Uchiha compound. Not nearly as big, of course, as only one family had lived there, but the grounds were lovely. Iruka was certain Kakashi didn't have a hand it in. Not that he couldn't, but there were gardeners wandering around pruning bushes, and a man in a formal kimono answered the door.

Iruka found himself tongue tied and stammering, bottle of sake held forgotten in his hand.

This was stupid. A bottle of sake? Sure, he'd looked for the good stuff, but Kakashi could afford as much of it as he wanted. What had he been thinking? If he wanted to apologize, he should have given Kakashi his choice of the missions!

And the man who'd opened the door was still looking at him expectantly.

He finally managed to choke out that he was looking for Kakashi--only to be told Kakashi wasn't there.

Probably on a mission. Of course. That was what the man did, he went on missions and--

"He's visiting friends. At the memorial," the man said.

Iruka winced. "Oh. Right. Thanks."

He could go to the memorial.

He shouldn't go to the memorial.

He wanted to get this over with, now that he'd screwed himself up for it.

He didn't want to disturb Kakashi.

Somehow, while he was arguing with himself, his feet took him to the memorial.

Kakashi was there, as promised. Iruka just stood and stared.

Right up until Kakashi turned and stared back.

He felt his cheeks color, and stepped out from under a tree. "Ah, I didn't mean to bother you," Iruka said slowly. "I just . . ." He lifted the bottle of sake, then dropped it again. "I wanted to thank you. For the other night. And, um, apologize. For my behavior." He winced. It really wasn't possible to sound stiffer than he just had.

And now Kakashi could be pompous and irritating, and Iruka would remember why he didn't like the man.

Instead, Kakashi smiled politely. "You're welcome, and apology accepted." He hesitated, then prompted, "Is that for me?"

Iruka glanced down at the bottle in his hand. He colored again. "Oh! Yeah. Here." Walking the five strides needed to cross the distance, he handed the sake over and then stood there awkwardly. "You, uh, haven't . . . been around," he said lamely.

Kakashi tipped his head. "You made it fairly clear you didn't want me around. I admit, I've never had someone get sick just to get out of being with me. That was effective. I'll have to remember it."

Iruka turned even more red. "That wasn't on purpose."

Kakashi's words were wry. "No, I didn't really think so. But it was the most effective one."

Iruka remembered a lean chest and warm skin, and his blush deepened. "Oh. Sorry about that."

Kakashi just shrugged and looked back at the memorial. He touched the stone briefly with his fingertips, then turned and smiled at Iruka.

Then he started to walk away.

Iruka panicked. He had to say something, anything. He wasn't sure why, but he did.

Nothing came to mind.

"Uh--Kakashi--"

The Copy Ninja turned to look at him, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the bottle.

"Um. You still have my shirt."

Kakashi inclined his head. "I'll send it back to you." He turned to leave again.

Panic struck once more. "Can I ask you something?"

Kakashi stopped again and smiled politely behind his mask.

"Why me?"

The Jounin scratched at the back of his head. Then he spread his arms with a flourish. "I'm Sharingan Kakashi, Jounin of a thousand jutsu!" The pose relaxed, and he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. "Not many people stand up to me." He shrugged. "I was impressed."

"Oh," Iruka mumbled. "You mean, if I'd dated you and been uninteresting, you would have gone away?"

Kakashi smiled brightly and nodded. "But you didn't! You tried to scare off a possibly unstable ex-ANBU Jounin."

"Huh."

They stood in silence. Iruka fidgeted, not sure what to say, wishing Kakashi would break the silence. Then he could remember why he didn't want to date the man. Even though he'd been paid a nice compliment and nursed all night and hadn't been touched once when he hadn't wanted to be touched. Even though Kakashi had tried so hard to be good around the kids and then during Chuunin training and had even completed the Swamp Incident.

And even though he had a great ass.

Kakashi turned to walk away.

Iruka cursed himself and the stupid realization that maybe, just maybe, he'd overreacted over the last few weeks and maybe, just maybe, Kakashi had been a gentleman--a pushy one, admittedly, but a gentleman overall--and maybe, just maybe, Iruka was actually . . .

He could barely admit it even in his own mind, and with every second Kakashi was walking further away. Damn it. The man was smart and sexy and downright hot. "I was thinking," he said loudly and quickly, before he could change his mind, "that I could, uh, take you out." He flinched, and added, "As a thank you."

Kakashi stopped yet again, black uniform and green vest nearly blending with the shadows under the trees. "You don't have to do that, Iruka-Sensei." But he didn't move.

Iruka swallowed around a lump in his throat and scratched the back of his head nervously. "I--I know. But I misjudged you pretty badly and, um, I'd like to--" he had no idea. "To--" no idea still. He frowned.

"Get to know me?" Kakashi suggested, wandering closer.

"Well . . . yes. All right. Get to know you."

Kakashi stepped much closer. He pushed up the forehead protector and tugged down his mask, letting it pool around his throat. It left his neck bare, and Iruka had another vivid image of sleek, pale skin.

"I guess," Iruka said quietly, "I'd like to get to know you."

"So . . . you're asking me out?"

Iruka blushed. "Don't push your luck," he muttered.

Kakashi laughed, one bright, quick bark. He had very even teeth, Iruka thought. "You don't smell like vomit. Being sick isn't going to save you," Kakashi said, and Iruka was amazed at how well the mask had hidden that wicked little smirk.

"Uh, yeah, I know," Iruka snorted, standing his ground as the Copy Ninja slunk slowly closer. "Why, you planning on starting off getting to know each other with sex?"

He was being sarcastic, but Kakashi's eyes lit.

"No," Iruka said, lifting a warning finger.

Kakashi grinned. "Can we start it off with a kiss?"

Iruka thought about it, finger still lifted like an invisible barrier between them. Then a long, slender hand wrapped around his, tugging it inevitably downward. "I guess a kiss won't hurt," Iruka said, trying not to think too much about warm skin and nibbling on necks.

That wicked grin flashed again, and Kakashi took a final step closer.

The kiss was even better than Iruka had thought it might be.

**

Iruka yawned widely, holding up his pajama pants with one hand and ruffling the other through his hair.

"Morning, sleepy head," Anko chirped from the window, carefully applying eyeliner.

"Morning," Iruka tried to say around his yawn. He let go of his pants and they slid downward almost indecently. His shirt hid it.

"Get me some of that cereal, would you?" Anko asked, glancing at him through the windows. She stopped, eyeing him, then smiled slowly.

"What?" Iruka asked defensively.

"You have that well fuc--"

He tuned her out as the bedroom door opened again, and Kakashi wandered down the hall in boxer shorts and one of Iruka's shirts. A katana had gouged out a good chunk of flesh over his left pectoral, leaving him vaguely self-conscious about scars.

One of the many things Iruka had learned over the last five--no, six--dates.

And three sleep-overs.

The man really did have a great ass. And he looked great in Iruka's shirts; he looked smaller, somehow, almost wraithlike with the creamy pale skin and deadly grace. The lithe body and slender-boned frame didn't hurt, either.

Kakashi caught Iruka looking and arched a brow. "You look pleased with yourself."

Iruka shrugged, smirking. "Breakfast?"

"Hm."

Iruka dug around in his fridge looking for eggs, wondering if he had bacon. Kakashi really did need to eat more, he'd decided.

"Morning, Kakashi," Anko chirped.

"Morning," Kakashi answered. A chair scraped across the kitchen floor.

"Hey! You look well-fucked, too! Just what is going on over there? Who's doing who?" Anko asked, sounding almost offended.

Iruka glanced up at the reflection in the oven. He saw a slow, wicked and somehow lazy smile stretch over Kakashi's face. "Don't you wish you knew," the man purred.

"Ohhh, you're such a brat," Anko muttered. "Give me my cereal! I've got to get going!"

Iruka threw it together and handed it through the windows, laughing when Anko winked broadly at him. Then he settled down across the table from Kakashi, picking up a slender hand and nipping the fingertips. "You know," Iruka said after a moment, his mind turning over the last few weeks, "I do have one thing that's been bugging me."

"Hm?" Kakashi said, eyebrows rising lazily.

"Why did you ask Itachi if he would have sex with you?"

Both eyebrows shot downward. "Itachi? I never asked him to have sex. I'm not *that* crazy."

Iruka blinked. He stood, checked the eggs, then leaned against the table beside Kakashi. He traced the edge of the man's bare jaw absently with one finger. "Ibiki said you did."

Kakashi frowned. "No. I told Itachi he threw jutsu like a girl, once. I never asked him to sleep with me." Then Kakashi's eyes narrowed. "Wait . . . was Ibiki practicing his caligraphy at the time?"

Iruka froze. "Ibiki does calligraphy?"

"Yes, only he doesn't want anyone to know. Was his office door closed?"

Iruka twitched. "Yeah."

"He was practicing calligraphy and trying to get rid of you." Kakashi smiled slowly, a look of awe crossing his face. "That bastard."

Iruka stared. Then he just shook his head and scooped up papers and mail sitting on the table, dumping them all into a fruit basket.

"What's this?" Kakashi asked, rescuing a scrap of paper.

Iruka glanced back, and snorted. "My Ode to the ToiletBowl. I was sick, all right?"

Kakashi was quiet for a moment, then quoted, "'You listen to, my every cry, you wait until, my tears are dry'?"

Iruka blushed. "I was sick!" he said, and went to spoon eggs and bacon onto plates, one for each of them. "My toilet bowl," he murmured to himself, absently reciting his Ode. "My toilet bowl, I love you so, my toilet bowl . . ."

"Anko's gone?" Kakashi asked, stretching backward to see through the window.

Iruka glanced at the oven reflection. "Yeah."

The chair scraped over the floor again. "Then I have a better idea about breakfast . . ."

Arms wrapped around Iruka's waist, a nose and clever tongue tickling at his ear. Iruka shivered. "Again? Already?"

He could feel Kakashi's grin.

He wriggled loose, setting the plates on the counter before turning fully. "Have I told you how great you look in that shirt?"

"Mmm," Kakashi said, hands wandering.

Iruka grinned, and nibbled on a slender, pale neck.

*************

The Ode to the ToiletBowl was gleefully written by Hey Diddle Diddle! It is, in its entirety,

You are white,
and you are round
You are two feet
Off the ground

When all the world
Is going to crap,
You fix it all
In a snap.

You take my puke
And bitter bile,
And you always go
That extra mile

My toilet bowl,
My toilet bowl,
I love you so,
My toilet bowl.

When I am sick,
And feeling down,
You’re always there
To bring me round.

You listen to
My every cry,
You wait until
My tears are dry.

When boys are dumb
And really vile,
You’re always here
To make me smile.

My toilet bowl,
My toilet bowl,
I love you so,
My toilet bowl.

When I’m done,
You go flush,
And every time,
You make me blush.

At times I wish
I could marry you,
‘cause everyone else
Makes me feel so blue.

The boys are dumb,
The girls are mean,
And no one else
Is quite so clean…


As…

My toilet bowl,
My toilet bowl,
I love you so,
My toilet bowl.

Sadly, I couldn't manage to fit it all in there. Wonderful, isn't it? *grins*

Now, this story is dedicated to Dark, who gave me Five Ways for Iruka to Get Out of a Date with Kakashi. Without that, this would NEVER have been written. *Grins* Our girl's brilliant, isn't she? ;-D