Side effects

General heads up: This is a totally unreformatted copy posted for the TONFA awards. It looks like this edition is going to be kind of a formatting disaster, because apparently FF.net needs different HTML file formatting than this site does, and I probably won't update/reformat here because I could either spend hours cleaning up the formatting and making yet a third file type (I have to go through two conversions to get something that posts correctly at FF.net), or I could spend those hours actually writing another chapter. And I have a feeling I know what both I and the readers would prefer I spend the time on! Anyway, if you want to see if there's anything newer than December 2004, or if you want an easier-to-read copy that I've actually had time to format-correct, please (please!) check out this copy at Fanfiction.net...

(You don't actually get to the punch line of this story in this chapter, believe it or not. But hopefully hang in there, I think it's going to be worth the wait, maybe...)

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"But why me?" Iruka asked for the dozenth time since the Hokage had given them their latest assignment.

Kakashi grinned and held out the dress for him. "Stop complaining and put it on."

"But..."

"Nobody would believe me in drag."

"But...!"

The horrible thing was, it was the truth. Iruka, presented with the parameters of the mission, had dutifully followed the Hokage's instructions and paid attention to studying Naruto's sexy-no-jutsu, despite the repeated loud guffaws from his former student. Kakashi hadn't said a word, and hadn't bothered to try.

Iruka had assumed that, like any serious shinobi, he was applying his formidable Sharingan duplication technique and therefore didn't need the practice.

He learned otherwise when the Hokage asked to see the fruits of their study. Iruka had, despite considerable embarrassment, managed to produce a fairly plausible-looking "Iruko" version of himself.

Kakashi had just smirked and turned himself into a silver-haired old auntie with missing teeth and a squint in one eye and a horribly lascivious leer.

Kakashi had been paying attention, Iruka had decided dismally. But, this being Kakashi, he had been paying attention to the lesson that Iruka had overlooked -- namely, that the one of them who produced the more normal-looking sexy-no-jutsu form would be the one who spent the year of their undercover assignment in drag.

So it was nothing but the pure, unadulterated truth when Kakashi said with perfect self-justification, "I'm terrible at Naruto-kun's sexy-no-jutsu."

"So am I!" Iruka protested.

Kakashi's grin was lecherous even through the mask. "I beg to differ there. You don't need sexy-no-jutsu."

Feeling an all too familiar blush in his cheeks -- how did the scarecrow manage to do things like this to him? -- Iruka said, "Neither do you, you know!"

"But I'm not the one going in drag."

"But why me?" Iruka wailed again. "If you'd wanted to, I know you could have used Sharingan on him and learned it better than I could..."

"Ah, but there's the key," Kakashi said. "I'm quite happy not knowing, thank you."

"But the assignment..."

"...Only needs one of us in drag. Lucky for me, you studied quite admirably."

"But you--!"

"Put on your dress." Kakashi was deriving far too much entertainment from this entire fiasco, Iruka decided.

There was a knock on the door, and the Hokage called, "Is everything all right?"

"Just fine," Kakashi called back lazily, despite Iruka's furious glare. "We'll be there in plenty of time."

"By Iruka-sensei's definition of 'on time', or by yours?" was the rather skeptical reply.

Kakashi just laughed, and suddenly both of his hands sprouted shinai. "By his definition," he replied, and advanced on Iruka with an entirely too manic gleam in the one eye that was visible. "Now, are you getting undressed by yourself, or am I going to provide assistance?"

Less than three minutes later, Kakashi escorted a fiercely blushing and far more femininely-endowed "Iruko" out of the house, wearing an ankle-length blue dress cut up to the thigh and showing far more cleavage than (s)he was comfortable with.

Tugging again at the neckline of the dress, Iruka growled, "Why did you have to let Sakura pick out my clothes?"

"Because she's got much more modest taste than I do," Kakashi said, grinning again. "Although, if you're too unhappy with that one, there was this centerfold in last month's Icha Icha Paradise who was wearing nothing but a gold collar, a leash, and a..."

"This is fine," Iruka said hastily, tugging the collar even higher. "This is perfect. Wonderful. Remind me to compliment Sakura-kun on her excellent taste."

The Hokage and the infamous trio of Group Seven were waiting for them at the edge of the village, of course. Sasuke was silently holding two horses and looking bored. Sakura's eyes lit up when she saw "Iruko," and she drove her elbow into Naruto's ribs.

"I told you I had good taste! Iruka-sensei, you look gorgeous!"

"Sakura-kun, that's not helping," Iruka said, feeling his face burning yet again.

"Oh, but you've got to do something better than that with your hair," the girl told him sternly. "You can't just drag it all on the top of your head and tie it with a ratty old shoelace anymore! Get down here so I can fix that--"

Kakashi, meanwhile, was leaning on the trunk of a nearby tree, too doubled over with hilarity to speak. Rolling his eyes, Iruka obediently knelt so that Sakura could "repair" his hair.

When she reached into her bag and pulled out a flowery blue hairpin dripping ribbons and pearls,  his nerve started to give out. "Sakura-kun..."

"It's for the good of the mission, remember," she reminded him, with a decidedly mischievous quirk to her grin. "I'll send you care packages. You'll probably need them. You can't wear a blue hairpin with that forest-green dress, after all, and Kakashi-sensei is under strict orders not to let you out of the house with a shoelace in your hair!"

The thought of shaving his head bald was starting to hold some appeal. "...Yes, ma'am," he said in weary resignation.

Naruto had been entirely too silent through all of this. Dreading the number of possible causes, from incipient hilarity to not-quite-sprung-yet collateral-damage-inducing mischief, Iruka looked up at the boy...

...who was staring down "Iruko's" cleavage. And drooling. With a trail of blood trickling out of his nose.

"You little pervert!"

Since the little brat was still too busy gawking and drooling to dodge, Iruka's fist connected quite solidly with Naruto's head; the boy went at least twenty feet straight up, and there was a crash and rattle and several birds flew squawking out of the tree Kakashi was leaning against laughing his brains out.

Then there were some more rustles, and Naruto's head peeked back out of the tree, with a fist-shaped red mark on his face, an ear-to-ear grin, and a jutsu-induced pair of binoculars. Which focused on the predictable spot.

Shaking all over, Iruka said to Kakashi, "This is your fault, you know!" He dragged a blanket out of a saddlebag, wrapped it around his neck and shoulders, and climbed onto his horse.

...Forgetting that he was wearing a dress. One slit up to the thighs.

Sasuke pitched over in a dead faint.

The Hokage turned away hastily, a handkerchief shoved against his face.

Sakura turned a series of interesting colors ending in sort of pinkish-purple, and said, "Iruka-sensei, wait here just a minute, I think we need to get you some more things. Leggings, for example. Leggings to wear under the dresses. Ankle-length. --White, black, and gray should go with anything. You can't possibly not color-coordinate those. Yeah. That sounds... yeah..." And she headed off at a dead sprint.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was still trying to break a rib laughing.

"I hate you," Iruka said, and turned his horse around so that at least he wouldn't have to watch the shambles his life was starting to become as he waited for Sakura-kun to get back from her emergency shopping expedition.

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Side Effects, Chapter 2

The past three months had been fairly uneventful, but Kakashi was still worried. They'd arrived in their assigned village, pretending to be a married couple, and settled in as a teacher (Iruka, of course) and a professional slacker (himself, of course).

Iruka complained about it, since Kakashi's originally-intended facade had been "carpenter" rather than "slacker," and he'd pointed out with a reasonable amount of justification that Kakashi was good with sharp things and must have been trying to half cut his thumb off carving a bedpost.

Kakashi had replied that he showed far more natural talent in the slacking field than in the carpentry field, which not even Iruka could argue with.

That was, of course, perfectly true. But there were two more reasons why he'd quietly excised himself from the carpentry business and taken over the position of "world's best-articulated bar ornament." As a carpenter, he needed to work at other locations. As a slacker, he could go wherever he liked, whenever he liked, and overhear whatever might be interesting. And working on other people's houses kept him too far from Iruka.

It had taken more out of him than either of them had expected; the daily, ongoing use of energy to maintain the female form was something he'd never done before. Iruka had been a teacher, not a field scout and assassin. He wasn't used to maintaining martial forms for so long. After a while, Kakashi had managed to harangue and embarrass his partner into not bothering with the sexy-no-jutsu, and just employing a couple pairs of rolled-up socks and some makeup in its place. That had been a couple of weeks ago -- but Iruka was still losing weight, and sleeping badly, and waking with shadowed circles under his eyes.

Iruka must have worn himself further past the limits of his endurance than Kakashi had ever suspected. Either that, or he had actually taken ill while he was draining himself like that. As a trainer and a field team leader, as a person responsible for the lives of the people under him, it bothered Kakashi badly to have misjudged the situation that much.

He'd even taken over trying to do some of the cooking, to let Iruka rest after a day's teaching -- he didn't cook particularly well, but then they'd both been bachelors for a long time, and Iruka mercifully didn't tease him about the scorched omelets, and not even Kakashi could manage to burn ramen.

Iruka would tease him about everything else, but not about something that Kakashi did out of concern for him. Kakashi suspected he was embarrassed to be a chuunin seen as needy by one of the top jounin, and also suspected that Iruka had been hiding as much of his weakness as he could manage, for too long. And that was another miscalculation that Kakashi couldn't forgive himself.

You had your fun teasing him into dressing up like a woman. And he's so damn cute when he blushes like that. You never stopped to think how he might take that. Adding that to the fact that you're always on top when we make love... you make him the woman in everything; of course there's only one way he'd take that.

You were too busy having your fun to stop and think that he might seriously believe that you thought him weak, too scholarly, effeminate -- and you were too busy laughing to realize that he'd be hurt by that thought, and that he'd do more than he ought to in order to try to prove you wrong. You let your own entertainment blind you to your partner's needs. How magnificently well done of you, scarecrow.

It was deeply unsettling to be sitting on the roof of their house, listening to Iruka's gently wearied voice explaining the stroke order of the kanji for "prayer" to his class, and feeling the unaccustomed brush of wind against his face -- because he went without his mask here; the masked, faceless Sharingan Kakashi was a legend, but a shaggy silver-haired and goofily smiling slacker with an eyepatch, a stubbled chin, and some highly implausible stories of "carpentry accidents" was quite another. The entire situation had him on edge in a way he couldn't even define.

It's almost... peaceful.

No, that IS the problem. It IS peaceful, here, living like this. It's too peaceful. I can keep myself braced for a surprise assault for a week on end if I have to. But twelve months... I've got to be sure that I still know when to jump at the right shadows, after spending so long learning how to live amid all this edge-dulling peace.

And what the hell is wrong with Iruka?

There was a sudden chatter of little voices, and children burst out the front door, scattering toward their homes; Iruka stood in the doorway smiling, and leaning a little against the doorframe for support.

Kakashi swung down from his perch on the edge of the roof, and looked at the younger man. The makeup was surprisingly plausible, after this many weeks to practice, but the dress now hung too loosely on his frame. Iruka felt out of balance, as though he were leaning precariously forward trying to overcompensate for struggling up a hill that wasn't there.

Iruka noticed his scrutiny, and smiled at him, reaching up to rumple his hand through Kakashi's untamed silver thatch of hair. "Stop worrying," he said. "I'm not that weak."

"I never said you were," Kakashi murmured, hating himself.

Iruka's eyes widened a bit, and he bit his lower lip, and then looked away.

...Damn. I'm pissed at me, not at him, but it looks like that's not what he heard. How do I say that without embarrassing us both?

Naruto, of course, would just say it -- probably accompanied by a scalp-scrubbing noogie, a sticking-out-of-tongue, and a race to the ramen shop. Sakura would blush and stammer and giggle for two or three hours and only belatedly realize the other half of the conversation had walked away without her. Sasuke... who am I kidding? Ah, hell...

Well, there are some shameless advantages I can take of the fact that everyone knows the poor hard-working schoolteacher's been hitched to the most incorrigible good-for-nothing for miles...

Not caring who might be watching, Kakashi caught Iruka by the shoulders and pulled him into his arms and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. It took a while for the tension of surprise and embarrassment to drain away and leave Iruka completely limp, breathless, and blushing in his arms. Fortunately, Kakashi enjoyed every moment of his work.

And he says I'm not a craftsman. --Well, not a carpenter anyway. If he wasn't so tired out, I'd remind him I know a thing or two about pounding and nails and...

...stop it, you lecher, he's all but passed out in your arms.

What do you mean stop it? You just half-suffocated him unconscious from the kissing. Best opportunity a man's going to get, suggested a small impish corner of his mind.

Iruka blinked bliss-hazed eyes up at him, and said huskily, "Why the hell did you stop there?"

See? See? said the little imp, vindicated. When faced with persuasion like that... well, who needed dinner anyway. And there was always takeout.

Kakashi swung Iruka off his feet despite a yelp of startlement, and carried him inside, and kicked the door shut and elbowed the latch into place. That was as good as it needed to get; there was a perfectly usable floor lying right there waiting...

Kakashi's conscience nudged at him again, and with an internal sigh, he carried Iruka upstairs to lay him on the futon. Softer, and more comfortable, and better for resting afterwards. He wasn't going to think about the possibility that Iruka might be seriously sick. That wasn't a possibility. He was just being considerate. That was all.

Consideration lasted about as far as getting the dress off him. After that, he considered he'd made enough of an effort at being gentlemanly already, and with all that temptation lying right there, it would have taken a saint to resist any longer.

When they were both sated, an exhausted Iruka fell asleep in his arms, smiling, with his head nestled into the hollow between Kakashi's shoulder and throat. Iruka's hair was softer than it looked when he just dragged it up into a bushy ponytail and left it to fend for itself; unbound, it spilled partway down his back, and Kakashi found himself stroking it smooth and thinking things he had to classify as uncharacteristically mushy.

...I told him he didn't need sexy-no-jutsu for anything.

Kakashi closed his eyes, and listened to the rhythms of their lives, and of the world around them. There was one unusually "bright" spot dancing away downstairs -- Kakashi had discovered that Iruka harbored a secret and somewhat baffling passion for strawberries. Natural strawberries wouldn't be growing for at least another month, so Kakashi had found some seeds and given them a bit of a nudge. Now they were exuberantly strawberrying away at the world in general. Iruka blushed whenever he saw them, so Kakashi kept moving the plants around, to surprise him in new spots, although he claimed it was just to make sure they got as much sun as possible.

By the end of the week, another batch of them would be perfectly ripe for the harvesting, if Iruka hadn't surreptitiously picked and eaten the lot by then. If there were any left, Kakashi resolved, he was going to get some housewife around here to dip the things in chocolate, and see what that did to their normally-so-proper schoolteacher...

There were many, many advantages to not needing to even pretend to hold down a full-time job...

Even inside his own mind, Kakashi blinked. Something else nearby was brighter than it ought to have been, like the strawberries. No threat, though - not even consciousness, just... a spark of something. An odd almost-echo of something familiar and yet unfamiliar...

Kakashi opened his eyes, and looked down at Iruka, sleeping in his arms. Looked as deeply as only one of their kind could -- Kakashi still didn't see anything resembling a disease in him, just more warmth than he'd expected, and that odd sense of overbalancing, overcorrecting, even when he'd given up the rather silly sexy-no-jutsu and...

...Iruka. Overcorrecting for something. Unconsciously, overcorrecting for something that didn't need correction...

...Echoes. A too-warm spot nestled deep in the flow of his chakra, something he was trying too hard to compensate for...

..."Iruko" had been "alive" for almost two and a half months, but she'd never...

...wait, that was ridiculous, they'd never... not while he was a she, that was...

...but they'd certainly been busy when he wasn't a she, and then he became a she, so then...

"Oh my God," Kakashi said, and then started laughing. "Oh, God, Iruka, you're going to kill me."

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Side Effects, Chapter 3

The next morning, when Iruka woke, the place beside him in the bed was empty and cool; Kakashi must have been gone for some time. Iruka couldn't spare the concentration to wonder where, because he was too busy trying not to throw up the dinner he hadn't eaten.

Teeth ground together, Iruka thought desperately, Clouds. Sunshine. Birds. Damn it, I've lost fifteen pounds already; if I keep doing this, Kakashi's going to kill me even if whatever this is doesn't kill me first. --No. Never mind. Fluffy peaceful settled-down things. Grass. Dandelions. Sheep...

The thought of the smell of sheep, unfortunately, pushed the wave of nausea over the edge of his control; he staggered to his feet and ran for the bathroom, then dropped to his knees to worship at the shrine of the porcelain god.

When he could breathe without gagging and had caught his breath enough to think again, his first semicoherent thought was, Thank God Kakashi's out wandering somewhere, I don't think I could look him in the face.

Pathetic, weak, worthless fool -- can't even regulate my own body well enough to get over the aftereffects of a child's ridiculous-prank jutsu; Naruto never went through this, he just popped back and forth into whichever forms he wanted...

Naruto didn't spend three months in one alternate form, either.

Stop making excuses for yourself. You're pathetic; Kakashi's been taking care of you like you were one of the children. It's a damn good thing you never went on any serious field missions, you'd have gotten your whole team killed.

Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach...

"You done?" Kakashi's voice asked from behind him, and Iruka stiffened.

Damn it, you useless fool, you are NOT going to cry. Not even you are that pathetic. "Leave me alone," he muttered.

Instead, Kakashi walked over to kneel beside him; something in his hands smelled tartly of lemon. He held out a mug of water -- there was a crushed twist of lemon floating in it, and Iruka stared at it fixedly, watching the water ripple as it drifted around the mug.

"Rinse your mouth," Kakashi said, "and spit it out; you don't want the acid on your stomach right now."

Because screaming and lashing out was the only other option that presented itself to his half-numb mind, and he knew better than to take on a jounin over something this stupid, Iruka silently obeyed. The lemon helped kill the worst of the lingering taste of sickness, anyway.

Kakashi took the mug back, and flushed the contents, and then picked up a wet washcloth and began to gently wash his face for him. The silent tenderness in it was what finally broke him; his tears felt hot enough to scald.

"Damn it," he choked. "Damn it, I can't be this pathetic... you need a partner, not a puking brat to clean up after...!"

"Do you honestly think I think that?" Kakashi demanded; it shocked Iruka's eyes up to meet his. "Is that really why you've been driving yourself like this? This whole time? What do you think that does to me? What kind of leader pushes his team past their strength and then despises them for his own failure...?"

Shivering, Iruka looked away, and whispered, "It's not your fault I'm... sick."

"Actually," Kakashi said in a husky voice, "yes, it is."

Iruka shoved his bangs back from his face and stared up at his lover, then managed a short, sharp bark of laughter. "Don't tell me you've given me some kind of mutant Hatake-brand sex-transmitted disease? --Did you collect up a dozen Icha Icha Paradise stickers and send off for it through mail order?"

Kakashi stared back at him, and then his knees gave out; he landed with a thump on the floor, laughing himself light-headed.

With a groan, Iruka leaned back against the tub, still hating that he was trembling with exhaustion. "...It wasn't that funny."

Shaking his head, still helpless in the grip of shaking hilarity, Kakashi wagged a finger at him and somehow managed to get his feet under himself again; then he picked Iruka up too, carrying him in his arms like a child, and took them both carefully downstairs.

"Please," Iruka said, a little hoarse. "No food. Not just yet."

"Not yet," Kakashi agreed, instead carrying him into the quiet tatami-floored room where the students had their lessons. He'd already gathered up several of the sitting-pillows and made an improvised futon of it, and there was a brazier warming a vial of oil atop one of the desks. As he lay Iruka onto the pillows, he said, "Just trust me on this one."

Kakashi loosened his lover's nightclothes, tipping some of the oil into his palm; he dipped his fingertips into it and touched each of the primary chakra-points in turn, lingering longest at the navel. Embarrassed for a reason he couldn't even begin to name, Iruka looked away.

"I am pathetic," he murmured, staring fixedly at a child's carefully-drawn kanji hanging from the wall. "I know I'm out of balance and I can't seem to correct it..."

"That's because you're going at it from the wrong angle," Kakashi replied.

"That's the problem," Iruka said. "What right do I have to teach when I can't manage something so basic as--"

"This isn't basic," Kakashi said. "Not for you."

Iruka stiffened again, and shut his eyes tight. Dammit. Not basic for me, but there he is calm as anything, just dealing with it for me bacause I can't--

"Will you stop that?" Kakashi growled. "This sure as hell isn't basic for me either. Not when it comes to you. --Damn. I don't know where to start explaining... look, just lay there and shut up and let me make you feel better, all right? Because I'm trying to make you feel better, not worse!"

Despite himself, the corner of Iruka's mouth quirked. "Magnificent bedside manner you have there, doc."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Iruka sighed a little, and closed his eyes, and tasked himself with trying to follow what Kakashi was doing, studying where Kakashi thought he'd made his mistakes. Both of Kakashi's hands were poised over his abdomen -- no surprise there; he'd felt the imbalance at the core of himself, too much slanted toward earth and water, not enough of the lighter, more active energies. Kakashi touched him then, his hands startlingly warm, and traced a symbol against his skin, and Iruka felt the almost-fevered influx of power...

...influx? He's not draining off the excess; he's... adding to it...?

The power built and warmed within him, but it all settled into his abdomen, and Kakashi's hands traced new patterns for his chakra to flow through, all of them leading to and from his heart and his abdomen. Iruka could have laughed, if he hadn't been too busy enjoying the feel of Kakashi's hands.

Heart, I can see; he always tells me I think too much; but my navel too...?Halfway between your desire for food and your desire for pleasure, and influencing both; I knew he was a lecher, but honestly...

For the first time in recent memory, Iruka felt truly hungry, rather than just empty and sick. In a bit of dismay, he thought, You know, my idiot scarecrow, I'm going to have to strangle you if you've decided to double my appetite without actually letting me keep any of it down.

Finally, though, Kakashi sat back on his heels with a sigh, his fingertips still lingering against Iruka's skin. "...At least tell me you don't want to go throw up again. Tsunade's going to slap me into next week if I've messed this up."

"I never wanted to," Iruka retorted, opening his eyes enough to glare. "And I assume she would have slapped me into next week a long time ago, so don't blame yourself."

Kakashi looked away, and dug a hand through the unruly silver mess of his hair. "I told you," he said, "this is my fault. I wasn't thinking... I mean... well, hell, neither of us would have been thinking... um... --ah, shit, time to start over..."

Iruka's stomach growled at him, and not in a way that said it wanted to empty itself again. "Breakfast first?" he said.

The way Kakashi's entire face lit up at that was really unfair. Is this why you wear that mask all the time? Because you're so damn cute when you smile like that, and you'd never live down the teasing?...Yep, gotta be.

Kakashi more than half carried him into the kitchen, despite Iruka's protests that he wasn't crippled, and then turned himself into a human whirlwind of flying ingredients and half-scrambled thoughts.

"Orange juice... lots of vitamins... except there's the acid too... uh... milk. Milk sounds better. Okay, pancakes.... they need... what, flour? Yeah... flour... oh hell, all of these are white, which one's the flour... um... pancakes... gotta stick them together with something... okay, flour and water, and strawberries of course -- that should do it--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Iruka said, fighting hard not to laugh at him. "You need milk and eggs in there too. Here, let me show you..."

Looking up from the counter with a wild streak of something white across his face from his mad scavenging through the containers, Kakashi said, "You just got done throwing up a lung or two. I can handle this."

"I'm sure you can," Iruka said, and hoped his face was somewhere near straight enough. "I'll rest if you like. I'll sit right here. Just let me mix the pancake batter, all right?" He patted the tabletop as though trying to coax a puppy onto it. Kakashi scratched his head, then nodded and set the bowl of flour and water paste in front of him.

"Okay, what else?"

"Eggs, milk, sugar, salt, a little cinnamon and nutmeg..."

"Uh..." Kakashi came up with the eggs and milk, then looked around the kitchen a little helplessly, then said, "Can you point at 'em or something?"

Biting his lip hard enough to wince, Iruka started pointing with a hand that almost didn't shake with the effort he was putting into not laughing. Kakashi still bristled at his expression, though.

"Hey, I know what ramen looks like; that's all I used to need to know..."

"Ramen sounds fine," Iruka said. Kakashi planted both hands on his hips.

"No way in hell am I feeding you nothing but ramen for the rest of the year! You need, like, nuitrition and stuff. Tsunade really would slap me into next week if I hadn't even picked that up from her lessons."

"You were the medical specialist for group seven?" Iruka asked.

"They're all kids," Kakashi said. "Of course I was. And besides, Sakura-kun's getting old enough that Tsunade thought I might need the background for this." He looked at the drippy substance Iruka was mixing together, and said, "How do you know that's the right amount of, er, glop-ness?"

"I just take a guess," Iruka said. "But at least I know you need more than water and flour. --What particular background would you need about Sakura-kun and me?"

"...Ah, hell..." Kakashi pulled back a chair, turned it around, and sat on it backwards, his chin propped on the back of the chair. "Yeah. Um. Where to start... --You were watching what I was doing, right? Have you figured out what the problem was?"

"I figured out I was imbalanced a long time ago," Iruka said. "I don't understand how augmenting it instead of draining it is supposed to help, but I am feeling better; I feel like an idiot, actually, because that's the one thing I never thought to try."

"...Okay." Kakashi took a deep breath, and put on his instructor face. "You felt out of balance to yourself because you never completely stopped Naruto's jutsu. --No, wait, I'm not done. Just listen. You didn't put everything back the way it used to be. Right at the moment, you can't. It's... it's like... remodeling the bathroom. You can't redo the plumbing while the facilities are in use..."

"Remodeling the bathroom?" Iruka echoed, one eyebrow twitching.

"Yeah," Kakashi said, avoiding his eyes. "With... er... different plumbing."

"And different wallpaper too, I assume," Iruka said 'helpfully,' too fascinated by the way Kakashi was squirming around the analogy to keep stirring the pancake batter. "And am I supposed to move the towel racks?"

"Forget the towel racks," Kakashi said. His cheeks were actually faintly tinged with pink. It was nice not to be the one who was blushing, for a change. Maybe that was another reason he wore the mask. "Just forget the towel racks entirely. This is about... plumbing. Being used. Differently."

"Sexy-no-jutsu and plumbing. Somehow those are two concepts I just don't normally associate with each other..."

Kakashi dropped his head forward onto his crossed arms with a groan. "You have one type of plumbing," he muttered. "'Iruko' has a different type. You've mostly stopped  being Iruko. Except you haven't entirely gotten rid of Iruko's plumbing. Because the facilities are occupied."

Iruka gave him a half-lidded look. "It sounds like you're trying to tell me I'm pregnant or something."

Kakashi didn't answer.

"...Kakashi, that's ridiculous. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm male, and when I was being Iruko we never..."

"It's a plumbing problem," Kakashi said. "Do you have any clue what sexy-no-jutsu does to scramble your insides when you're being, for all intents and purposes, female? Neither do I. Neither does anybody. That's the problem. I'm sure Naruto never gave it a thought. But now you've spent three months hopping back and forth between yourself and her, and the upshot is that she's never had her moon-cycle -- trust me, you'd have noticed that; I'd have noticed that, even..."

"...You're serious."

Kakashi nodded a little.

"You're serious?!"

Kakashi hunched over a little further, clearly expecting an assault from anything from a bowl of pancake batter to various lethal implements at any moment. "...If you don't mind my asking in advance... how slowly and painfully are you going to kill me?"

Iruka was having a difficult time thinking of a good answer to that, because the world was going sparkly and tilty. Kakashi was leaning oddly to one side, and so was the table -- no, that would be because I'm in the middle of passing out, he thought, and didn't remember hitting the floor.

----

(author's note: Most mpreg fics kind of overlook one fundamental hardware incompatibility problem. ^^;; I mean, when Duo and Quatre randomly show up pregnant in a Gundam Wing fic, you've kind of got to scratch your head and go "how?" Well, it occurred to me that sexy-no-jutsu might deal with one structural problem anyway... poor Iruka's going to have some misery figuring out how to deal with some other structural problems, though, and if I were him I'd decide it'd be easier to spend the next several months female; not sure yet which way he's going to handle it though. The question is, is he more attached to thinking of himself as male, or to things like having the correct center of gravity to deal with things like, say, walking... ::snerk::)

(that's why I don't know whether or not to label this a mpreg fic or not, since in this case you kind of have to toss a coin...)

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Side Effects, Chapter 4

Iruka woke to the smell of pancakes. Burning pancakes, to be more precise, and he coughed a little on the smoke.

"Kakashi--"

Kakashi was kneeling at his side in an instant. "...You're awake? Don't move -- I'll get something -- uh -- want a washcloth? Or maybe a--"

"Kakashi, put out the pancakes before you burn the whole damn HOUSE down!"

Kakashi turned around, stared at the flames that had started shooting out of the frying pan, paled, and lunged for the stove. He juggled the hot pan into the sink, turned the water on full blast, breathed a huge sigh of relief, and only then looked over and thought to turn off the stove too. Then he started back towards Iruka on the floor.

"Kakashi--"

He froze in his tracks, looking for all the world like a scolded puppy. "How mad are you...?"

"Kakashi, turn off the sink before you flood the place too," Iruka said, rubbing his temples against an incipient stress-headache.

"...Oh. Yeah. Right..."

Iruka glanced cautiously around the kitchen. Nothing else looked like it was in imminent danger of rendering the place uninhabitable, so he thought it was safe to move, starting to sit up very, very carefully. Kakashi dropped to his knees at his side again, hesitating between helping and keeping himself out of instantaneous-lethal-strike range.

"Are you sure you ought to move?"

"I am damned well not spending the rest of the year on the kitchen floor," Iruka growled.

"Er, no, I meant, are you sure you ought to move right now...?"

Despite himself, Iruka did another two-second frantic scan of the surroundings. No blades, nothing lunging, nothing burning, nothing falling, no homicidal ki -- well, other than his own -- in other words, no reason not to move, and the thought of the feel of Kakashi's vocal cords being torn out and crushed between his bare hands had a certain amount of aesthetic appeal. He stepped hard on that urge, because if nothing else, he needed a little more information first.

"So tell me," he said, almost conversationally. "What did you think you were doing?"

The poor man actually flinched. "I didn't -- I -- honest to God, Iruka, it never even occurred to me you might get p-pregnant, I mean, we didn't, not that way anyway, I still don't want to think about what that's gotta mean about how -- I mean -- hell, for all we know, you could've gotten yourself pregnant when everything went through the mixer in there, not that I'm trying to dodge or anything, because I swear to God I'm going to be here for you through this, that is unless you kill me first or something, which I probably couldn't blame you for, but--"

"No," Iruka said, the minute he thought he could get a syllable in edgewise. "I mean what did you think you were doing with the pancakes?"

"...The pancakes...?"

"You know," Iruka said, rubbing his temples again. "Pancakes. As in, at some point you must have thought it was a good idea to put some pancake batter in a pan and leave the stove set on 'blowtorch' underneath it. I'm just wondering why."

"...That's what you're wondering about...?"

"It's a place to start," Iruka said.

"Well... uh... you said you were hungry... so I thought... maybe if I cooked some of them fast... there'd be something edible by the time you got yourself un-fainted... except I think I was cooking them a little too fast or something." Kakashi dropped his face into both hands. "Sorry. I'm a little rattled. It's not exactly every day you figure out you actually got your lover pregnant, you know. At least, not when your lover's usually male, that is... er... that's not helping, is it. --I think I should shut up now. Er. Yeah." Then he looked up with an almost comically desperate hope in his visible eye. "Do you want some pancakes? There's some batter left..."

Iruka considered two or three of the possible responses, decided a couple of them involved too much cleaning blood off the walls afterward, and finally decided on, "Yes. But I'm watching you this time."

Kakashi scrambled to his feet and pulled the pan out of the sink and put it back on the stove. Iruka groaned aloud, and Kakashi flinched.

"What is it? How bad did you hit your head? Should I--"

"That pan has got to have the charred remnants of the last batch chipped out of it before you can actually use it again, you know."

Kakashi looked at the pan, at the sink, at the rest of the batter, and managed a sheepish sort of grin. "Well. How's about some nice pancake ramen instead?"

Iruka put a hand over his mouth to try to stifle the slow roll and heave his stomach gave at the thought of Kakashi's most likely method of making pancake ramen. "...No. Please, merciful God, no."

In the end, they ended up having cup ramen for breakfast, because even Kakashi couldn't burn boiling water. Iruka ate it cautiously, because he'd been eating everything cautiously for the past few months, but Kakashi's work on his energy flow must have helped more than he'd expected. He didn't even feel sick afterward. And it was Kakashi's cooking. Of course, the only actual cooking involved was pouring some boiling water and waiting three minutes, but still, it was progress of a sort.

Kakashi wasn't even eating himself; he was watching Iruka eat, raptly, obsessively, the way some people watched... things Iruka preferred not to think about. Things Kakashi probably read about in Icha Icha Paradise.

"...Still feeling okay?"

Iruka nodded.

"Want some more?"

Iruka thought about it for a moment, and nodded again.

Kakashi promptly pushed his untouched cup ramen into Iruka's hands, and kept watching. Iruka could feel the embarrassment reddening his face.

"You're the only person I know who could make eating cup ramen feel... dirty, you know."

Kakashi scratched behind an ear, sheepish. "What can I say? Occupational talents, I suppose. It's just... amazing. It's almost like watching you having sex; I mean, you're eating for our child... the child we screwed each other into making inside you..."

Iruka's blush redoubled itself suddenly. "Don't tell me you're going to turn every meal into some kind of voyeuristic orgy, you pervert!" He put down the ramen, and looked away.

"...Awww."

"Look, can you at least not stare like that?"

Kakashi chuckled. "Don't you like an appreciative audience?"

Feeling like three kinds of fool, Iruka said, "Turn around."

"What?"

"You heard me. Turn around. Otherwise I just know you're going to be... watching."

Kakashi's enthusiastic laughter didn't salve his battered pride at all, but the silver-haired shinobi dutifully turned away from the table until Iruka finished eating his ramen.

"Can I look now?"

Iruka leaned both elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "Short of ripping your eyes out, I don't see how I could stop you. --And don't tempt me."

Wisely, Kakashi said nothing; he just reached over to stroke Iruka's hair.

Iruka tilted his head against the curve of Kakashi's hand, and looked down at himself, and sighed deeply. "This is real, isn't it?"

"I think so," Kakashi said. "Are you angry at me?"

After a moment's thought, Iruka said, "I don't think so. I mean, you're right, neither of us would have expected... this. I'm just... adjusting, I think. I never thought I'd be the one thinking about things like this..."

Kakashi chuckled, low-pitched. "That makes two of us."

With a rueful hand flattened against his still-trim waist, Iruka said, "Sakura-kun's taste is going to get to be inconvenient, isn't it."

"Huh?"

"Skin-tight dresses. And me. I mean... um... us. Both of me. And six or seven more months. What am I going to do? I sew up holes in things that get ripped so they don't fall off. I don't know how to, er, loosen these... in the... er... stomach area. --I don't even know how long I'll fit into something like this..."

"Don't worry," Kakashi said, grinning from ear to ear. "I still have the centerfold with the dog collar and the leash! There's nothing you can outgrow! It'll be perfect--"

And so, while Kakashi lay on the floor recuperating from the cranial trauma of being repeatedly beaten over the head with a pancake-charred cast-iron frying pan, Iruka went to the market to find a seamstress.

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Side Effects, chapter 5

Looking back on it later, Iruka thought he'd been fairly discreet. He transformed himself with sexy-no-jutsu just in case the seamstress was particularly insistent on taking, ahem, delicate  measurements; he put a scarf over his hair to try to disguise the fact that it was their spiky-ponytailed new schoolteacher sneaking around the market looking surreptitious with a bag of wadded-up dresses; and the seamstress he found didn't have the same family name as any of his students. She was also a harmless-looking grandmotherly type with eyeglasses. He hoped she was nearsighted enough from all the years of sewing not to take too close a look at his face, sexy-no-jutsu or not.

His voice cracked noticeably higher than usual, even considering the effects of the jutsu. "Er... I was wondering... how much would it cost to have these... changed a little?"

"Changed, dearie?" The grandmother lifted a couple of the dresses out of the bag, and looked him-her up and down. "Changed how?"

"In the... er... stomach. For... for some... um... growing room..."

"...OOOoohhh. "

Iruka buried his face in both hands, completely humiliated by the volumes of sudden-comprehension-and-gleeful-delight loaded into that one syllable. The grandmother reached up and patted his hands gently.

"We can make these work for a while; if we cut them a little shorter, we can put panels in the sides, so that there's more room for your development. But sooner or later you're going to need some different dresses; you're a tall girl, but you're so slender there's just nowhere to grow but out, if you see what I mean. So we'll have to find you some other things, especially for later on... you can't be very far along yet; I'm sure it'll be winter before your time comes, so something soft and warm, and let me see, what colors would go nicely with your complexion?"

"Not pink," Iruka said, half strangled.

The grandmother dimpled at him quite unfairly. "You're sure? You're so cute when you blush like that, sweetie. --All right, all right, I'll stop teasing you. Just sit right here and rest yourself and I'll be right back..."

About an hour later, Iruka left with an empty bag, a promise to return for the altered dresses the following weekend, and trembling knees.

I did NOT need to know that. I did NOT need to know that her granddaughter was in labor for six days with her firstborn. I did NOT need to know how to diagnose ailments from the color of the slime a baby is excreting from various orifices. I did NOT need to know... 

He stumbled home, dropped the empty bag on the floor, and went to dump a bucket of water on Kakashi's head to get him to stop taking up space on the kitchen floor. Then he dragged himself upstairs, curled up under the blankets, and didn't come back out.

And he thought  he'd been discreet. He'd only asked the one seamstress. But the next day, all of his students' mothers showed up with ear-to-ear grins, maternity clothing, and an unbelievably assorted array of baby supplies.

Since there was obviously going to be no actual education happening while the mothers threw their new schoolteacher the surprise baby shower from hell, Iruka chased Kakashi into keeping the children out of harm's way in the yard while their mothers oohed and aahed and fussed and scared the living wits out of him with stories about ninety-six hours of labor followed by emergency surgery.

When the clamoring mob of mothers decided that their damage had been done and reclaimed their offspring to head home, Iruka sat straight down on the floor in the middle of a pile of party wreckage that looked like it had come straight out of a war zone. When Kakashi wandered back inside, he found his lover laughing hysterically at a piece of orchid ribbon.

"What...?"

"At least... at least... it's not... pink or blue...! I swear... half of them are going to kill me if I have the wrong type of baby for their gift... so I think I'm dead both ways...!"

Kakashi decided the only sensible thing to do at this point was to order takeout ramen for dinner, take Iruka upstairs, and ravish him until he collapsed from exhaustion so that unconsciousness spared him the trauma of the flashbacks to the baby shower.

Afterwards, however, Kakashi climbed out onto the rooftop to do some industrial-sized worrying.

Three months. We've been here three months and there hasn't been so much as a suspiciously twitching blade of grass. No hunters, no shadows, no nothing. Too much nothing. And now Iruka's like this, which is more than half my fault since I'm damned sure  he never thought it might be a possible side effect from that fox-tailed brat's sexy-no-jutsu. Neither did I, but then I wasn't the one who might have to suffer the consequenses, so it was damn well my responsibility to think about it and it never even crossed my mind. So this is my fault, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him near a fight. But we were sent out here all but blind. How can I protect him when I have no idea what it is we're up against? 

The Hokage just said to be prepared. That's not too bloody useful, now is it. 

...And we've screwed that up already; no way in hell were either of us prepared for this... 

Me. A father. What the hell? I mean, Iruka was practically born to be part of somebody's parents, but still, I'll bet he was thinking a lot more along the lines of daddy than mommy. And me... I'm the grinning bastard of an uncle who makes his nephews' lives a living misery. I'm the one who gives them back to somebody else at the end of the day and says "okay, you lucky parents,  you get to deal with this noise or this stench or this noxious substance they're exuding."  

Get them old enough to have personalities and conversations and I'm fine, but some squirming helpless little thing that looks like a plucked chicken and screams bloody murder to say everything from 'food' to 'pick me up' to 'looky, I shat myself again'... what the hell am I doing...? 

He heard the window slide open, and Iruka's voice floated quietly from inside. "Kakashi...?"

"Right here," Kakashi replied, sliding down the roof and grabbing the edge to swing himself back in through the window. Iruka was looking at him with enormous dark eyes, pupils dilated by the dim moonlight, his face a pale blur framed by clouds of rumpled dark hair; he looked cold, tinged by the frigid moon-blue half-light, and Kakashi immediately gathered him into his arms to try to warm him.

Iruka was warmer than he looked, of course, but still he settled his head against Kakashi's shoulder with a small grateful sigh. "You're not... upset... are you...?"

"Me? About what?"

"I... I should have... thought. I mean, I don't know why I didn't think... well, no, I take that back. I do know why I didn't think -- I mean -- I just... didn't think about changing back and forth, rearranging things like that, and... for heaven's sake, I was born male, it never occurred to me that I might get pregnant, but still... it's the woman's responsibility, because it's the woman's body, and--"

"Like hell is it just the woman's responsibility," Kakashi growled. "It takes two to tango, you moron."

Iruka sighed a little. "You still haven't answered me."

"What was the question?"

"Are you... um... angry...? Because I'm even more useless now than I was when we started this, and it'll only get worse, and it's not fair to expect you to have to defend us both; I should have been your partner, not a dead weight holding you back--"

The best way to deal with bursts of irrationality like this, Kakashi decided, was to cut them off at the source. So he locked their lips together for a good long time, until Iruka stopped squeaking and struggling and just kissed him back.

"That answer the question?" Kakashi asked, grinning.

"I... I think so... but I'd still rather hear you say it..."

"I'm not angry with you." Kakashi bent forward to touch their foreheads together, so that he could smile directly into Iruka's eyes. "I love you. I'm scared shitless, I never in a million years would have expected this, but I could never be angry with you because of it -- and the first damn thing we're doing the minute we get back is telling Naruto never to have sex in his life, because either way, the thought of his offspring running around making some other pathetic unsuspecting victim of a teacher live through twelve to eighteen years of that walking nightmare is just too horrifying to contemplate--"

Iruka was trembling in his arms; after a minute, Kakashi realized it was laughter he was biting his lip hard to try to suppress. "He's not that bad...!"

"Easy for you to say," Kakashi retorted. "It's been a couple years since you had to deal with him. I'm sure trauma-induced memory blocks are taking their toll on your recollections."

Iruka was still too damn perceptive, even when Kakashi was doing his best to distract him. He pushed his bangs back from his face and said, "You said that you're not angry with me; are you angry with yourself?"

Hell yes.  "Come on back to bed. You need your beauty sleep. And even if you don't, I do."

"Kakashi..."

...damn his eyes.  "No one's ever done this before," he said, a little hoarse. "Nobody knows what it could do to you. I'm pissed as hell that I was so busy thinking with my groin that I didn't even stop to think that you might... --never mind. But if anything goes wrong, I swear, I'll give my life if it'll let me save you. Because this is my responsibility."

"Kakashi--"

He decided it was time for a little more kissing therapy. "Come on, lovebird," he murmured. "Trust me on this, at least. You're going  to need some sleep. Because tomorrow you're going to be faced with two dozen bright-eyed little innocents who want to know allll about how their schoolteacher's making a baby."

Iruka said a word Kakashi hadn't realized he even knew. It was followed by several more, and starting to build into an impressive litany of profanity, obscenity, and general paint-peeling vitriol. But Iruka didn't resist when Kakashi led him over to the bed and eased him softly down onto the futon.

"...Kakashi?"

"Hmm?"

"You're going to regret not being a carpenter when you had a chance. Because your complete and total unemployment means there's no earthly reason you can't be there to help me figure out how to explain this to them."

Kakashi grinned lazily into the darkness. "What a good idea. I've got ten years of back issues of Icha Icha Paradise in the closet, I'm sure I can find all kinds of helpful and informative illustrations--"

"...Damn you. Damn you to hell. Never mind; I'll figure it out myself!"

"There's my wise love." Kakashi brushed a kiss against the crown of Iruka's head, still grinning. It was good to know he hadn't completely lost the art of conveniently-timed distraction.

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Side Effects, Chapter 6

The next morning, Kakashi found an excuse to lounge on the landing at the top of the stairs, so that he could peek down through the ventilation grate into the living room/classroom where Iruka was valiantly trying to endure two dozen bright-eyed little monsters chattering away about what their mommies had said about the origins of Iruka-sensei's baby.

"...My mommy said it was a stork..."

"...no, a cabbage!"

"It's not a cabbage, it's a tulip. Cabbages would be horrible!"

"My mommy said I came from the back of a barn."

Poor Iruka looked as though he'd just been slapped with a dead fish. "...Did she now...?"

"Not a tulip, stupid," another one corrected, with the voice of authority. "Everybody knows babies come from coconuts..."

Several heads swiveled to stare at that one; Kakashi stuffed a fist into his mouth to keep from laughing loudly enough to be heard.

Sitting very cautiously on the edge of the desk to keep from falling over, Iruka said very carefully, "Maybe everyone's mothers got their babies from different places."

Kakashi thumped a hand weakly against his knee, still biting his knuckles. Like the back seat of a hay wagon? 

"So where did yours come from, Iruka-sensei?" one of the little monsters asked brightly.

"I... I... um..." Iruka was white as a sheet. He curved his hands carefully around the edge of the desk, hung on for dear life, and said, "I swallowed a watermelon seed."

There was a great deal of bemused and skeptical silence.

"You did what?"

"I swallowed a watermelon seed," Iruka said again, rather desperately. "And it... decided to grow into a baby inside me. Seeds... do things like... growing... I mean..." He gulped hard, and tried again. "I mean... over the next several months... you'll be able to see it. As... as the baby gets bigger inside me... my middle will grow bigger too. So don't be surprised when I start to become... well... rather fat. Because the baby needs room to grow inside me, you see."

There was another long, thoughtful silence, broken by a little girl raising her hand.

"Yes, Megumi-chan?"

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get a cabbage?" she asked.

Iruka looked like he was on the verge of either hysterics or tears. "...Yes, Megumi-chan, I'm sure it would have been much easier to get a cabbage. That's... just not... not the way that... my baby... happened..."

One of the little boys burst into heartwrenching sobs.

"...Oh, no; Jirou-chan, what's wrong...?"

"I... I... I s-swallowed a m-melon seed toooooo -- and -- and -- I don't wanna -- I don't wanna have a baby, I don't waaaannnaaaaa...!"

"Oh, Jirou-chan--" Iruka hurried across the room and gathered the sobbing little boy into his arms, rocking him back and forth. "You're not going to have a baby. I promise. I promise, Jirou-chan -- it's not like that. It..." Iruka coughed a little, but managed to say with an almost steady voice, "It only happens to girls..."

Megumi looked at her lunchbox with a far too contemplative look on her face.

"And only when they're old enough," Iruka said, a little desperately. "And... it's not just any watermelon seed. It has to be... a special type of seed. You have to find it together with someone you love very much..."

Megumi was still  looking at her lunchbox. Silently, Kakashi thanked any god that was listening for the fact that Iruka had had the wits to come up with a cover story that was neither lethal nor particularly appetizing, but it looked like Megumi was determined to try it anyway.

Sniffling in his arms, Jirou asked, "W-who did you find yours with, Iruka-sensei?"

Iruka smiled and rumpled the little boy's hair. "With Kakashi-san, of course."

"Him?" 

Kakashi didn't spot the voice responsible for that amount of sheer skeptical disbelief, but it might have been a good thing that he didn't. Mothers didn't generally like it when their children were returned from school hog-tied and flayed with a kitchen mop.

Iruka laughed a little, and set Jirou down again, and said, "Yes, little ones, him."

"But he's... he's... lazy and sloppy and he never works on anything and Mama says never to get too close to him because he's a pervert and she says you should do a lot better than that, Iruka-sensei, and she says Makoto-oniichan is going to open his own shop soon and he even likes  books, and..."

"But Kakashi-san likes books too," Iruka said, with far too much mirth in his voice. "Very, very much. So much that he doesn't let anyone else even look  at some of his books."

The little cynic heaved a huge sigh. "...You're determined  about this, Iruka-sensei?"

"Oh, yes," Iruka replied, smiling. "Quite determined, I'm afraid. But I'm sure there will be someone else in the village who likes books just as much as Makoto-kun does."

Several little faces showed a great deal of skepticism about that  prospect, but none of them said it aloud.

Megumi raised her hand again.

"Yes, Megumi-chan?"

"My mommy makes marks on the wall when I grow," she said. "Can we make marks on the wall for the baby growing?"

"My mommy does that too!"

"I want to watch the baby growing..."

"I... er... oh, goodness. Um. We really shouldn't mark directly on the walls of the schoolhouse, you know--"

There was a universal chorus of "Awwwwwww...!"

Melting under the gaze of that many disappointed little faces, Iruka said in a very small voice, "But I suppose if I found a piece of paper we could put up over the wall, then we could mark on that..."

So they found a piece of paper, and taped it up in the corner of the room. Iruka, fiercely blushing, stood with his back to the corner and smoothed the dress flat against his abdomen, and Megumi stood beside him and bit her tongue, fiercely concentrating all her attention on tracing the line of his stomach.

"There we go," Iruka said, and took the pencil from her and wrote the date under the line. "Now that we're done talking about the baby, I don't suppose there's any chance we might have time left to review your homework?"

"But that's boring," Megumi informed him gravely.

"I know it's a lot of kanji to learn," Iruka told her. "I thought I was never going to learn them all -- and actually, I still haven't learned all of them; in some other places, they use sixty thousand of the things! You'll need to learn about three thousand by the time you're grown up. I know about four or five thousand, but I always like to learn new ones. Because that way you know the name of another piece of the world."

Kakashi considered himself impressed by Iruka's eloquence. Unfortunately, the six-year-olds were a rougher audience.

"Do any of you know how to write the word for my baby?" Iruka asked, with a particularly gentle smile.

They looked around, and then several heads shook 'no.'

With one hand resting lightly against his stomach, Iruka said, "There are different words that doctors use for babies as they grow inside their mothers, to describe how big they've gotten and how long it will be before they can be safely born. But I'll teach you my favorite one, for a baby who's just been born."

Iruka turned to the chalkboard and drew the kanji on it, clear and sure, and then turned again to explain each piece to the class.

"This one is named 'san'. You know the word for life, and for stand; this puts the two of them together, with the mother standing guard over her baby's life. And this one is named 'ji.' There's the sun shining on something being carried, above a person's walking feet -- for the first time the baby is carried out into the sunlight by loving parents. San-ji. Do you think you can remember that? ...Let's try writing it down, so that your fingers will remember."

Megumi raised her hand again.

"...Yes, Megumi?"

"Has the baby gotten any bigger?"

Iruka couldn't help laughing. "It's not that quick," he said. "Have you ever sat and tried to watch a flower growing from a seed? It takes a long time. --I'll tell you what. If each of you can remember how to write the word for the baby after lunch, there will be a surprise for everyone -- how's that? Let's work on remembering the story in each character, so that you can remember how to make the shapes this afternoon..."

He handed out paper and pencils to the children and kept an eye out as they traced the kanji for the first time, correcting the stroke order here and there; then he wandered out to the hallway and beckoned to Kakashi from the foot of the stairs.

"Glad to hear you love me for my magnificent literary taste," Kakashi said, grinning.

"And for your helpfulness around the house too," Iruka replied, far too helpfully.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Kakashi said, "What is it this time?"

Ever the alert teacher, Iruka lowered his voice in case any of his pupils had particularly sharp hearing. "I need a couple dozen little flowerpots, filled with soil. And seeds. Different kinds of seeds. One of those packets of wildflowers should do the trick... so that no two of them will look alike as they sprout and grow. Will you do that by the time they get back from lunch...?"

"Hmm... tall order there."

Iruka leaned on the railing with a sigh. "Don't tell me you need 'persuading' right  now."

"I always take rain checks," Kakashi replied, with a rogue's grin.

"I'll persuade you tonight, then."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"It depends." Iruka propped his chin on his hand and offered a smile that had more to do with sharks than with cheerful, friendly, and non-lethal dolphins. "Would you like me to write it in blood on the insides of your eyelids so that you won't forget the instructions even when you blink?"

Kakashi blinked a couple of times, and silently drastically revised his assessment of the gentling effect that pregnancy had on a ninja's personality. "I'll be right back."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Iruka said, still with that placidly lethal smile. "Get going. And don't  be three hours late this time."

"...Stop doing that. You'll scare the kids."

"The kids?"

"...All right, you're scaring me.  Better?"

"If it gets you back on time, much," Iruka replied, and stretched up on tiptoe to brush a kiss against Kakashi's cheek. "And you're still here. Why is that?"

"I'm going! I'm going already..." Kakashi took the steps three at a time.

-------------

(author's note: My little brother was born when I was three. That was when my mother told me the story about watermelon seeds, and also that it had something to do with kissing Dad. It was at least four more years before I'd eat watermelon OR kiss my father on the lips, I was that traumatized, and it took them that long to figure out something else to tell me... ^^;;; which is why there are no childhood pictures of me with watermelon in my hands until I was at least eight or nine or so...)

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Side Effects, chapter 7

For the rest of the week, the children learned as many baby-related kanji as Iruka could explain to them -- blanket, cradle, bottle, toy; they liked 'toy,' not surprisingly. And then there were tiny leaves starting to peek out of the little pots lined up on the teacher's desk, and so Iruka started on the plant-related words. Leaves, seeds, roots, flowers, colors, fragrances -- and somehow he managed to negotiate with them so that they only insisted on tracing his stomach first thing Monday mornings, and left him alone the rest of the week. Part of it was that several Mondays went by without any perceptible difference in his waistline, of course.

Megumi, who had been eating watermelon for lunch ever since the day of The Talk, looked up at Iruka with the beginnings of betrayed suspicion in her eyes. "Are you sure you're having a baby?"

"Reasonably sure, yes," Iruka said, trying for a straight face.

That evening, as they lay beside each other beneath the moonlight, Kakashi reached over and ran a hand over Iruka's still-flat belly, then pressed a little, very gently. They could both feel the growing firmness within, the mass of the ripening womb; Iruka placed his hand over Kakashi's, and smiled.

"Are you that impatient for me to start to bulge?"

"You're strong," Kakashi said, and sounded almost disappointed about it. "Tsunade says that women who fight often don't show their condition until later, because their stomach muscles are strong enough to resist the pressure for longer. But then when it happens, it happens very suddenly. She calls it 'flowering.'"

"I should have planted something for you too," Iruka said, and leaned over to brush a kiss against the tip of Kakashi's nose.

"No need," Kakashi replied, closing his arms gently about his lover's waist. "I'm quite happy waiting for the seed I planted in you."

The children's seedlings stretched and grew, and began to develop distinct leaves; Iruka taught them how to tell when they needed water, and how not to water too much or too little, and some of the little plants became identifiably herbs from the scent when someone brushed a fingertip against the little leaves. Others still kept their natures a secret, without flowers or fragrances to give themselves away; and Megumi kept eating watermelon, and glaring in impatient dismay at the line she'd traced on the wall.

And then, one Monday, the line that Jirou traced was a bit different than the others had been.

Kakashi teased him mercilessly for the entire evening; blushing like the sunrise, Iruka curled up under the blankets and buried his head under the pillow and refused to come out, and so Kakashi cheerfully crawled in with him.

But the time passed, inexorably, and summer grew near, and the little plants flourished; many of them had received their names, carefully written in Iruka's neat hand on little tags that he attached to their pots. Others still kept their secrets. But Megumi no longer needed to glare at the wall, because each Monday brought a new line. And she still ate watermelon for lunch.

And then, one day, Iruka froze motionless in the middle of a lesson, and the chalk slipped out of numb fingertips to shatter on the floor.

Kakashi was down the stairs and holding him before any of them quite realized what was going on, even Iruka. "What is it? What's wrong? --Megumi-chan, do you know where the doctor lives?"

"Wait," Iruka said, both hands up, half laughing. "Just wait. No doctors, Megumi-chan. I'm fine. I'm fine... it... it was just that... it's the first time I've felt the baby move..."

For about three seconds, they all stared at Iruka. And then there was a whooping, hollering mass stampede toward the front of the room. Kakashi, waist-deep in children, didn't know which way to step without crushing someone's feet; Iruka was laughing wholeheartedly now, with a dozen little hands patting the still-slight, gentle pout of his belly, and others on tiptoe reaching toward him too. His laughter made his stomach quiver, and it set off a round of delighted squeals from children who were convinced they'd felt the baby moving as well; Iruka and Kakashi traded an indulgent look, and neither of them quite had the heart to explain the difference just then.

The rest of the afternoon was a lost cause; Kakashi half-carried Iruka into the middle of the room and then sat on the floor and settled their teacher into his lap quite possessively, hands clasped around Iruka's no-longer-quite-so-slender waist. And Iruka coaxed stories of their families out of the children, and told stories of his own childhood -- not the ones that involved war and blood and pain, of course; just the happier ones, when his parents had been alive to hold him. Kakashi never let go, not even when Iruka insisted on walking the children to the door and saying goodbye for the day, so that each of them could take the opportunity to pat the baby if they wished, even if they'd been too slow in the mad giggling chase earlier.

Watching the last of them trail off toward their houses, Kakashi sighed, and brought Iruka's back closer to his chest, and cupped his hands gently to the ripening curve of his abdomen.

"What does it feel like?" he asked, a little huskily.

"Like... bubbles, a little bit. Like butterfly wings. So soft I barely realized..." Iruka smiled up over his shoulder, and then reached up to bring Kakashi's head down close enough to kiss. "I can't wait for her to grow big enough that you can feel her too."

"Her? I'll bet it's a boy."

"Time will tell." Iruka curved his hands over Kakashi's, and pressed firmly. "Can you feel that?"

"Not with my hands," he murmured, "but your whole body sings of life to me right now, love. I want to dance with the music of your body..."

Caught between being flattered and being scandalized, Iruka said, "I was just saying goodbye to children so innocent they think this baby was conceived from a watermelon seed!"

"Everyone needs a little variety in their lives."

"Glad to hear you say it," Iruka replied. "Next time around, you do the sexy-no-jutsu and I get you pregnant!"

Kakashi choked, coughed, wheezed, and finally managed to splutter, "Next time?!"

"What happened to everyone needing a little variety in their lives?"

"Don't you remember?" Kakashi countered. "I'm a variety all by myself. I'm sure you recall some of the fascinating range of things you were calling me the last time I bought you a strawberry shortcake and watched you eat it..."

Iruka groaned aloud. "Why is it I can never, ever win one of these conversations with you?"

"Because I'm just that good." Kakashi grinned into the mop of Iruka's wild ponytail and nuzzled it lightly. "So, shall we ...dance?"

Iruka didn't reply; Kakashi could feel the tension in his body, and shifted one hand to gently kneading the knots out of his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Iruka said. "And everything. I mean... I'm... I can feel it. I'm out of balance again. Both ways. I mean, the weight's carried so low that I'm starting to arch my back so that my shoulders counterbalance, except that that makes it worse, and my back always hurts, and I'm not even very big yet; I don't know how this is going to work next month, let alone four or five months from now..."

Kakashi shrugged against his back, and kept rubbing. "I told you, it's a plumbing problem."

"You mean... sexy-no-jutsu? Like this? How could I possibly think 'sexy' like this? I'm bulging already..."

"I think you're sexy as hell like this," Kakashi murmured.

"But... the children are used to me, my face and my hands, and my way of saying things; I couldn't explain why their teacher suddenly became a busty, wide-eyed, slender..."

"You keep getting confused on this bathroom remodeling thing," Kakashi said, chuckling. "Don't get distracted by the wallpaper. Just think about the plumbing." He ran a hand down Iruka's side, cupping the palm to the curve of his hip, his thumb stroking a light pattern against the pout of Iruka's belly.

"Kakashi...?"

"You need to stop struggling, and just revel in it," he murmured. "It doesn't matter whether you redesign your face without the scar; the makeup is what they're used to anyway. Your hands are your hands; your eyes are your eyes; none of that matters for this. The changes you need to accept are internal, not external. To correct your balance in both senses. Broader hips, to cradle the baby more gently within your body. A mother's breasts, growing ripe and heavy with milk... "

Trying desperately for a light voice, Iruka quipped, "And the towel racks?"

Kakashi's voice warmed with the kind of gleefully lascivious flirtation that he usually saved for inflicting passages from his Icha Icha Paradise collection on Iruka's defenseless ears.

"Why are you so self-conscious about your towel racks? Your towel racks are magnificent! Any hot-blooded man would kill for the chance to get his hands on a well-hung set of towel racks like--"

Iruka drove an elbow into Kakashi's stomach sharply, then pulled himself free and turned around and started beating the scarecrow over the head. "HOW do you make TOWEL RACKS sound FILTHY?!"

With both hands arched over his head in a rather futile attempt at self-defense, Kakashi wheezed, "It's a gift...! Some of us are just born with pure, raw talent..."

"But what ARE the towel racks...?!" Iruka wailed.

Kakashi gave up all attempts at self-preservation at that point, sliding down the doorframe, too convulsed with laughter to respond.

Iruka threw both hands into the air and stalked inside to start making dinner.

When Kakashi could breathe again, he dragged himself to his feet and followed his lover inside, slipping both arms around his waist in order to take the handle of the pan from him. "I'm the househusband, remember?" he murmured into the soft skin of Iruka's throat, to feel him shiver at the tickle. "You've had a long enough day, and you've got more important things to think about than recipes. I can cook."

"For a certain definition of 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger,' I suppose I can call that cooking," Iruka muttered. "But then you've always enjoyed taking your life into your own hands."

"I was serious, you know," Kakashi replied. "Until you distracted me with the magnificence of your towel racks, that is. But I'm quite serious that on several levels, you're still resisting the thought of what goes with pregnancy. Not enough to make yourself ill anymore; just enough to make yourself more uncomfortable than you need to be."

"I'm a man," Iruka said, feeling rather humiliated at having to remind Kakashi of that. "I'm not wired for this. I'm not supposed to be."

"Then you won't let yourself give in?"

"To what?"

"To what your body needs in order to accomplish this. You can keep pretending for a little while longer, if you like; as you said, you're not very heavy yet. But sooner or later, things like your center of gravity are going to catch up with you. And... one absolutely essential piece of plumbing."

Despite himself, Iruka took the bait. "Which one? The bathroom sink?"

"The baby is going to need a way out, you know."

Iruka could feel all the blood draining out of his face. Kakashi took one look, caught him by the shoulders, and half-led half-dragged him over to a chair. Sitting on his knees to look up into Iruka's eyes, Kakashi looked partly anxious and partly exasperated.

"Please. Please don't tell me that that part hadn't occurred to you yet. I don't know what I'm going to do with you. --I should strangle your teachers, for letting you get to be your age without any kind of proper indoctrination."

Kakashi planted his hands on his hips and tipped his head to one side a bit, then sighed deeply.

"...I can see I've got a lot of lost time to make up. All right, youngling, your first assignment from Kakashi-sensei is to read and understand at least four volumes of Icha Icha Paradise by this weekend. There will be a quiz on Monday. You can feel free to ask me questions if it gets too technical for you; I hold office hours all night long..."

"Kakashi?"

"Hmm?"

"You might want to shut up now. Or else I'm going to kill you."

With an odd blend of levity and perfect seriousness on his face, Kakashi replied, "The only part of this that surprises me is that you didn't kill me a couple of months ago."

"Like you said, I'm slow on the uptake," Iruka replied, with a bitter half-grin.

"...I never said that."

Iruka tried to pick up his mug of tea, except that his hands were shaking so badly he knew better than to try to drink from it. "What if I can't...? What if I can't hold the balance point of the jutsu -- what if I can't hold onto it long enough, through labor...?"

"I told you I'd be here for you through every minute of this," Kakashi said. "If you're too exhausted to hold your balance, I'll hold it for you. If nothing else... I know I have enough throwing needles to paralyze and numb you from the neck down, and I have kunai, and I know enough about the placement of lethal damage to know where not to cut. I'm not sure which way is less appalling to think about, but... either way, if you want to be unconscious through the whole thing, we can arrange that..."

Iruka slumped against the table, one palm over his eyes, shaking all over.

Oddly hesitant, Kakashi said, "I have to ask, because I can't even try to guess right now. Would it help if I held you? Or would you rather not see my face for a few hours?"

"Don't leave," Iruka said, an instinctive terror deeper than thought. "Don't leave me alone with this. Please--"

Kakashi moved closer and crouched at his lover's side, slipping both arms around his rounding middle, and nestling his cheek against the frantic pounding of Iruka's heart.

"I'm right here. I'm here as long as you can bear the sight of me," he murmured. And then, being Kakashi, he added in rueful honesty, "And probably a lot longer than that, too."

Iruka gave a deep, shivering sigh, and stroked Kakashi's hair with a light hand. "Help me," he said, half a plea and half an order. "I've never been able to see the balance in... in Naruto's jutsu... not the way I need to see it. Help me. Help me find where it is I need to balance. Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"I've got to get used to holding onto it," Iruka replied, eyes closed. "You know the hell or high water thing? I'm hoping this is the high water. I've got to get used to living through that jutsu, living with that balance, through anything the world throws at me. At least I have a few months to practice. I... I just..." His voice shook on the edge of breaking. "Tell me you love me. As I am. Tell me this wasn't something you thought up to have an excuse to get a woman into your bed for a few months, for the variety--"

Kakashi lunged at him so abruptly that Iruka nearly went over backwards with the reflexive flinch away; but it was an assault of a rather different sort than his instincts had first feared. With one warm hand knotted in Iruka's ponytail and the other cupped to the small of his back, the silver-haired shinobi almost crushed their bodies together, heart to heart, lips to lips, the slight inward curve of one man's waist cradling the slight outward curve of the other's, as though they were two sides of the same mold. When Iruka finally pulled away to gasp for breath, light-headed to the verge of passing out, Kakashi took his face between both hands and stared at him fiercely.

"I," he said, far too calmly, "am a reprehensible bastard with filthy taste in pornographic smut, the moral fiber of a piece of well-used chewing gum, the punctuality of a water clock in the middle of the desert, and the general stability and reliability of a chipmunk on crack. I have no idea what in the hell a respectable, responsible, earnest, gentle, tender, and all-around disgustingly nice person like you ever saw in me. But -- being the greedy, devious, and calculating son of a bitch that I am -- I would sooner die than let a treasure like you slip through my grasping fingers."

Iruka knew his mouth was hanging open, but somehow, his lungs still didn't seem to be acquiring any air; all he could manage was a faint and somewhat pathetic squeak. And the world was sparkling again. ...Or maybe that was just Kakashi.

...Or maybe it wasn't.

No, actually, it wasn't--

"I know," Kakashi said, huskily, "I know that you're the best thing that ever walked into my life. And I live in mortal terror of the day you finally come to your senses and realize you could do so much better than me. You were born to be adored. To be loved and to be delighted in. Gently. Tenderly. By someone who's as good a person as you are. And even I'm not such a depraved, insensible wretch that I don't understand that. I love you as well as I am capable of loving anything in this world. I don't know if it's good enough. It's just... all that I have to give you."

Somehow, Iruka dragged enough air into his lungs to gasp, "Kakashi--"

"I wish I were a better person," he whispered. "I wish I knew how to be someone who deserved you. I wish I'd never let my ridiculous ego badger you into something as stupid as sexy-no-jutsu just so I could sit back and laugh. I wish I'd dug out my own eye with a shovel rather than risking your life on an ignorant prank. I just can't change what I am. But I swear to God that the person I love most in this world is you, no matter what you look like at the moment -- I don't give a damn about the wallpaper; I don't even give a damn about the plumbing..."

Iruka shut his eyes tightly, screwed together all the self-control he could manage, and fought around the mad, desperate pounding of his heart for a single deep breath of air.

"...I don't think I could live without the way you smile at me in the mornings, or the way you blush when I watch you eating, or the way you walk into a room full of squabbling kids and they all turn to watch you like flowers dazzled by the sun..."

Finally, Iruka had enough oxygen to shout, "Kakashi~~!"

He flinched and let go, sitting back on his heels to ask in a hurt and shaking voice, "What...?"

"THE EGGS ARE ON FIRE!"

Kakashi whirled to stare at the stove, and the flames that were licking at the bottom edge of the wooden cupboard, which was starting to smolder.

"...Damn, damn, damn, DAMN--!"

"--Not the sink! It's grease -- NOT the sink--! LID -- BAKING SODA -- stifle it -- NO WATER~~!"

Kakashi grabbed the flour sack and upended it onto the burning eggs -- and the flour dust exploded into flames.

"...gyaaaaAAAAHHH~~!!"

Kakashi ripped the faucet completely off the sink, shoved his hand into the resulting spray of water, shaped half a dozen seals in less than two seconds, and shouted, "Suiton Daibakufu no Jutsu!"

The resulting twelve-foot-wide cyclone of water not only took out the fire -- it also took out the stove. And the back wall of the house. And two trees that happened to be in the trajectory path of the stove.

The entire half-liquefied snarl of debris skidded to a halt about forty feet away, vaguely steaming.

Water was still pouring out of the beheaded sink and fountaining in a mist all over the ex-kitchen.

Very, very slowly, Kakashi turned around to face Iruka, with the expectation of a slow, bloody, and agonizing death written all over his face.

"...oops?"

Iruka staggered over to the sink and dropped to his knees beside the shredded wreckage that had once been the counter by the stove.

Barely a whisper, Kakashi breathed, "Iruka...?"

Iruka pulled a sagging cabinet door off its hinges, reached in, and twisted the stop-valve of the water pipe until the fountain dwindled to a spurt, then a dribble, then nothing. Then he sat back on his heels and stared numbly at the wreckage of the kitchen and the back yard.

Kakashi tried to take a step; his foot skidded in the inch and a half of water still standing on the floor, and he landed on his backside with a thump.

Amazingly enough, Iruka found that his voice was almost steady. "Kakashi?"

"...yes...?"

"How much carpentry do you know...?"

Staring into the beautifully unobstructed view of their newly relandscaped back yard, Kakashi said, "Not that much."

"...That's what I was afraid you were going to say. --Kakashi, when I said 'baking soda,' why did you grab the flour?"

"...it was white."

Iruka ran a dripping palm down his face. "Yes... yes, I was afraid you were going to say that too."

---

Author's note: (massive sweatdrop) No, I did NOT see that one coming when I started writing the chapter... it just kind of... happened... ^^;;;

Thank you SO much for the reviews, you guys! (I'm actually amazed I haven't gotten flamed for the subject matter yet...)

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Side Effects, Chapter 8

There was one huge, inescapable, undeniable problem with being a pair of ninja living undercover in an otherwise apparently entirely-ninja-less town, Iruka thought, wrapped in a blanket and shivering as he listened to the sirens wailing.

In a ninja-less town, when things like pieces of houses and school buildings exploded in geysers of water and flame, people had an unnerving habit of noticing.

And, even worse, they paid attention. Lots of attention. Very quickly, with lots of emergency vehicles, lots of anxious neighbors, and lots of official questions.

In Konoha, nobody would have blinked twice. Particularly if something like this happened to a person who was in any way even remotely associated with Naruto, who somehow brought his own portable collateral-damage blast radius with him wherever he went. But here, there were two or three dozen people standing in the yard staring and gesticulating and chattering frantically.

And it was just one house blowing up. Just one wall of one house, at that.

And the attention had started coming so quickly that he and Kakashi hadn't even had the opportunity to work out a cover story. And they were going to need a cover story, because in a normal town, people didn't do things like summoning geysers of water to extinguish cooking mishaps. Or at least, Iruka had to assume they didn't, because nobody looked as though it was supposed to be normal for a back yard to contain a forty-foot-long path of destruction plowed  by the tangle of the stove, the trees, and the pieces of the kitchen wall.

Apparently, the policewoman in charge of the scene was as overwhelmed by the noise and clamor and hysteria as Iruka was. She pulled out a bullhorn and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Will you all please SHUT UP?!"

It cut the noise by several decibels -- but then all the heads started to swivel to look at the policewoman, and, by extension, at Iruka and Kakashi beside her.

"Now, then," she said to Iruka, whom she had somehow instantly identified as the more responsible of the two -- apparently police instincts for troublemakers were universal. "You're the new teacher, I assume? I'm sorry, I haven't gotten your name yet."

"U-umino Iruka..."

She wrote it down. "All right, Umino-sensei, what happened here?"

"I... we... it... um..." Iruka stopped, and shook his head, and tried to start over. His teeth were starting to chatter from the combination of chill, belated shock, and sheer terrorized hysteria. "M-my husband was... cooking dinner... b-because I'm... I'm... I'm p-pregnant and he thought he'd h-help but then the eggs -- I mean -- it wouldn't have been so bad if it was just the eggs on fire but he thought flour would stifle it and--"

The policewoman held up a hand sharply; the other had gone to her temples. "Stop right there, ma'am."

"Officer...?"

"You poor, poor dear--!" The policewoman put her arm around Iruka's shoulders and led him over to the remnants of the back porch, patting his arm in a distinctly maternal fashion. "Why didn't you say so to start with? I swear, there should be a worldwide ban on any idiot who thinks an industrial pressure cooker makes a great wedding gift! They're practically as dangerous as band saws, which means men just can't keep their hands off the things, and they never read the directions, and then when you get pregnant it's twice as bad because they stop listening to a word you say, all those male hormones go straight to their brains and turn them into grunting apes that have to prove their hunter-gatherer manliness to the poor fragile woman, and the next thing you know there's a hole straight through the roof and the entire first floor has been repainted with burning boysenberry jam that you spent a month picking berries in the garden for, and I swear there should be a law preventing men from setting foot in a kitchen without a woman armed with a tazer standing right behind him..."

And she kept going. For quite a while. Helplessly, Iruka stared at Kakashi, silently begging for some sort of explanation; Kakashi just shrugged, equally at a loss for words.

I suppose I can't really blame her for talking to me like I'm female, Iruka thought. I'm acting female, and... well... pregnancy IS more extensive method acting than I ever anticipated I'd be doing. But I've really got to complain to Naruto-kun that his technique still has a major flaw -- even with sexy-no-jutsu I still have no idea how to speak girl-talk...

"...anyway, enough about that, we'll take care of everything, dear, don't you worry. How far along are you?"

"...huh?"

"The baby," the policewoman said patiently, patting Iruka's arm again. "Tell me about the baby! How far along are you?"

"I... um... I think... about four months...? Maybe four and a half..."

"I'm jealous! I was much bigger than that at eighteen weeks this last time; my idiot husband never stopped cracking jokes about whales. It's your first, isn't it? The first ones never show as much; your muscles haven't just gone and abandoned hope on you yet. Have you started thinking of names? What about the baby's room? I know the schoolhouse has got three rooms upstairs; you can keep one as an office and use the other for the crib and the changing table and such. If you need any help painting and decorating and things, my brother's got nothing better to do with himself these days, I'll send him over; you can never have too many hands when it comes to moving furniture around, and you really oughtn't get up on a ladder now, it could be dangerous for you to fall. And you won't even want to get up on a ladder in a month or two, when your tummy starts rounding out more. So I'll just chase him on over to help you paint and such -- oh, please tell me the baby's room isn't going to be the one over the kitchen! I'll have to strangle your husband myself if you've gone and started decorating and they're going to have to get in there with power saws and all that dust in order to rejoin the two floors properly..."

Much to Iruka's bemusement, the policewoman never did finish asking him about what happened in the kitchen. The fact that they'd unleashed an expectant father with a homemade flaming-egg-and-flour bomb seemed to be enough of an explanation, somehow or other.

The policewoman scolded Kakashi into going to fetch some of their clothing as she continued to rumple Iruka's hair dry with the corner of the blanket, and one of their neighbors had brought a pot of hot tea, and several others were poking around the hole at the back of the kitchen and scratching their heads and taking measurements and starting to knock together enough of a framework to put a tarp over for the night. Several of the neighbor children were taking turns climbing into the stove and closing the door and then popping out screaming at each other -- from their shrieks, it sounded like the game involved one person impersonating and the others vividly slaying the Schoolhouse Stove Monster. Iruka wondered if there had been a Schoolhouse Stove Monster before today, but didn't have the nerve left to ask.

Before Iruka quite knew what was going on, the policewoman had cancelled school for the rest of the week, scheduled a repair crew, bullied a few more people into the repair crew, and arranged for the schoolteacher and her kitchen-bombing husband to stay with Megumi's family for a day or two, until they were confident the building was structurally sound enough to be repaired and no longer standing open to the elements.

Kakashi didn't know much about carpentry per se, but he was an expert when it came to collateral damage. He took one glance at the huddle of people standing around with boards and said helpfully, "Sounded like three or four cracked joists, and you'll need another load-bearing brace under the southwest corner within a couple days, but it'll be fine..."

They all turned to glare at him. Kakashi looked around, then edged behind Iruka.

The policewoman reached over and swatted Kakashi on the head with her notebook. "What do you think you're doing? You're supposed to be packing clothes to go stay with the Akino family..."

"Already packed," Kakashi said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at his knapsack. The policewoman's mouth thinned into a flat line.

"Men never pack enough things, do they. I knew I should have gone with you. She's pregnant, you lout. She'll need extra pillows to put under her back, and her prenatal vitamins, and...."

"I'm sure it's fine," Iruka said.

"Prenatal vitamins?" Kakashi said.

The policewoman hit him with her notebook again. "Of course she has prenatal vitamins! With cooking like that, there's no way she'd have enough actual nuitrition from the food, now is there? I'll just go and pack properly--"

"No, officer, it's all right, really," Iruka said, and tried to coax the policewoman towards some of the other people who looked like they belonged with the various sirens and flashing lights. "I'm sure we've taken enough of your time already..."

"Oh, nonsense; with a husband like that, you need all the help you can get, dear..."

"...And I'm so tired from all the excitement," Iruka added, hoping he wasn't overdoing the simper too much. He'd never previously paid much attention to Sakura's fine-tuning of the art of emotional manipulation, and was regretting his inattentiveness. "If you don't mind, I'd just like to find a place to lie down and rest..."

That did the trick; the next thing he knew, he and Kakashi were being chased off the premises under guard from Megumi's mother and father. Her father was a slightly-built, rather bookish-looking person who kept openly staring at the back yard; her mother had a great look of forbearance, and saw to patiently herding her own husband home along with the two kitchen-remodeling refugees.

When they arrived, Megumi was overjoyed to see Iruka-sensei coming to visit. Megumi's mother knew distractions when she saw them, and chased Iruka into a rocking chair and whisked the knapsack away from Kakashi and vanished upstairs to put together the guest room. Megumi climbed up into Iruka's lap happily, and patted his stomach with extravagantly careful little hands.

"Iruka-sensei, my flower has petals on it today!" she informed him, proud as anything.

"That's wonderful, Megumi-chan," he replied, smiling.

She chewed on a finger, and shot a mistrustful look at Kakashi. "What's he doing here?"

"Your mother is very kindly letting us stay with you for a couple of days," Iruka said.

"Both of you?"

"'Fraid so, squirt," Kakashi said, grinning.

"How come?"

"Because I blew up the school!" he replied cheerily.

Megumi looked at him for a long time, blinking.

"...Iruka-sensei?"

"Hmm?"

"Does that mean I don't have to know the kanji for dandelion?"

"Well, it means you don't have to know it tomorrow," Iruka temporized.

Megumi thought about this for a moment, then climbed down from Iruka's lap and walked over and flung both arms around Kakashi's waist in utter adoration.

"You're going to make me blush, you little flirt," Kakashi said with a chuckle, and reached down to tousle her hair. "Your poor father's going to be having nightmares about ten years from now, you know."

She was still clinging to him by the time her mother came back downstairs to show them to their room; Kakashi found it a little difficult to climb stairs with someone half glued to his thigh, but he managed somehow.

Megumi's mother caught Iruka's arm before he could follow them up the stairs; he paused and turned to her.

"What is it, Akino-san?"

"Iruka-sensei... about the watermelon seeds..."

He felt his face burning. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was... just the first thing I thought of..."

"Believe me, I understand," her mother said, with a certain fond exasperation. "I just... wanted to ask if you could think of some different seeds to, er, distract her with. We're getting really, really tired of watermelon..."

"Oh. Yes. Ah... pumpkin seeds can be fun if you toast them... or maybe you could suggest she might like to try sunflower seeds, since the watermelon seeds, er, haven't worked...?"

"Yes, I know," her mother replied. "But the idea is to have you point that out. She thinks I don't know anything about it, since she hasn't gotten any little brothers or sisters, you see."

Iruka buried his face in both hands. "...Yes, ma'am. I'm so sorry, ma'am..."

Megumi's mother laughed. "Don't apologize. I haven't gotten her to eat this many fruits and vegetables for years. I'm just grateful you didn't pick ice cream! Come on upstairs; I'll bring you some dinner later, and I promise I won't let my husband anywhere near the kitchen."

---

(Author's note: In reply to a very good backstory question, here's my general idea of this timeline's background on their relationship before this assignment started.)

Kakashi and Iruka had already been a couple for quite a while, and the adults knew about it, but under a general nudge from the school administration, the two teachers kept up the pretense of different houses so as not to scandalize their students with being two people who couldn't technically marry but were still romantically involved with each other. Their students, meanwhile, mostly also knew all about it, and generally took shameless advantage of the fact that they weren't supposed to know anything...

Obviously, this tactic worked much better with Iruka, who has the whole 'children's innocence should be protected' complex rather badly. If one of the ninja students forgot their homework, they'd just mention something like "I stopped by your place to ask a question last night, but you weren't there; were you having a slumber party at Kakashi-sensei's house again?" And Iruka usually spent so much time stammering and blushing and trying to make up child-slumber-party things for the two of them to have been doing that he generally doesn't get around to asking for the absent homework... combined with feeling guilty about not having been at his house to answer his confused pupil's questions... whether or not the kid actually stopped by, which he wouldn't have known anyway. Poor Iruka...

(The students all know better than to try it on Kakashi, though; Kakashi is well-nigh unembarrassable when it comes to students. And the couple of times one of the genin did try it on him, he gleefully responded with far more details than any of them could possibly have wanted to know, including cross-references to the volumes and chapters of Icha Icha Paradise where he got his ideas from. Again, poor Iruka... ^_~)

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Side Effects, Chapter 9

The best part of being an incorrigible scoundrel, Kakashi thought to himself proudly, was that after a while anyone who didn't try to kill you on sight just gave up on expecting anything other than mischief, irresponsibility, unpredictability, and a running string of pranks. So he very helpfully didn't mention to Iruka that he'd deliberately neglected to pack an alarm clock, and he let his lover sleep the morning away.

In Kakashi's world view, you slept as long as your body needed to, which meant that if Iruka was still asleep, then he was still tired. Also in Kakashi's world view, alarm clocks were made to be ignored and/or thrown across a room and/or beaten with large heavy objects; alarm clocks were a form of masochistic self-abuse he'd rarely bothered with. Punctuality also fit into the masochistic self-abuse category. Time happened, and things happened, and sooner or later things got to where they needed to be.

He himself was climbing back in the window after having gotten himself to where he needed to be and back. His only disappointment was that since school had been cancelled, there wasn't even any entertainment value in not having set the alarm.

On the other hand, that disappointment was counterbalanced by the fact that Iruka would likely consider it sweet and thoughtful that he'd 'neglected' the alarm on a non-school day. On a school day, of course, Kakashi's head would have been used for the blackboard eraser whenever Iruka got done frantically running around having hysterics about not wanting to have two of the teachers turning into chronically tardy reprobates wasting perfectly good educational time.

That part was always greatly entertaining to watch -- up until the point where Kakashi got himself thrown into a headlock and dragged to school and used as target practice for everything from flung blackboard erasers to a live demonstration of kunai-throwing practice (ninja students learned much more effectively through visual aids, Iruka had told him, looking just a little too wild around the eyes and showing more teeth than any human mouth should have contained).

But right now that much exertion wasn't good for the baby, Kakashi told himself quite piously. So it really was kind of him to have neglected the alarm clock on a day when Iruka wouldn't feel morally compelled to threaten his life for it. Morals were quite a nuisance to try to work around. They tended to get in the road of actually getting away with most of the things that could be classified as fun. Kakashi took a certain amount of pride in having rid himself of as many extraneous morals as possible.

He considered it a point in favor of his own philosophy of time that even after his expedition had come to a successful if less than punctual conclusion, Iruka was still sound asleep, curled up on his side under the blankets, his unbound hair an adorably shaggy rumple-ness all over the pillows. Grinning to himself, Kakashi settled himself on the windowledge and pulled out a book and started to read.

Iruka finally blinked his way back to consciousness around noon; he was cute when he was that bewildered, blinking up at the angle of the sun for quite a while, until the angle of the sun translated itself into a time in his head and the panic button got tripped.

The panic button seemed to coincide with the fast-forward button in Iruka's world, Kakashi noted. Iruka nearly tripped over the blankets trying to get his feet untangled from the futon as he shoved all his hair to the top of his head and tied a shoelace around it and started hopping toward the knapsack for day clothes, chattering, "What time is it? Why did you let me sleep so late? I've got to--"

"No class," Kakashi reminded him hastily, so that they wouldn't skip ahead to the headlock-dragging kunai-throwing part of the routine. Iruka stopped motionless, blinked a couple of times, and then sank down on the floor with a deep sigh.

"...Right. The eggs. Fire. Flour. You. And the back wall of the house..." He paused and shuddered. "Yes, I suppose I really couldn't have been lucky enough for that all to have been a nightmare."

"Ah, the springtime of our love," Kakashi replied drolly. "To think that you so easily mistake our life together for a part of your dreams... it makes a man's heart overflow."

"Really?" Iruka asked with a growl. "Where's the blood, then?"

Kakashi smirked. "My sweet innocent. Where do you think a man's blood goes when faced with such a tantalizing vision of marital bliss in the morning?"

Iruka turned an adorable shade of crimson and clutched the blankets up to his chin. "Is that all you ever think about?!"

"Of course not. Sometimes the towel racks come into the picture too!"

Iruka grabbed a pillow half-blind and flung it at his head, reached for the next nearest available thing to fling, and was surprised when it rattled. Realizing he was holding a bag of groceries, Iruka said in incredulity, "You went shopping?!"

"Glad to know that even my unpredictability hasn't become predictable yet. It's the little things that keep the spice in life," Kakashi said, and turned another page.

By now, Iruka was so accustomed to reflexively averting his eyes from any book in Kakashi's hands that he stared down into the bag in a knee-jerk self-defense mechanism. A minute later, the bag dropped out of his hands, and the contents tumbled out onto the floor; Kakashi looked up from the book then, mildly surprised.

"What?"

Iruka had one of those knock-me-over-with-a-feather expressions on, his mouth hanging open, one hand gesturing helplessly at the wild assortment of boxes of prenatal vitamins that had spilled out of the bag and tumbled onto the floor.

"Those? I didn't know which ones were the best, so I got one of everything they had," Kakashi shrugged, and went back to his book.

The silence was a little too loud.

With a sigh, Kakashi looked up from the book again. "What did I do wrong this time? Besides leaving the alarm at home. --No, actually, besides blowing a hole in the house so we had to evacuate so I left the alarm at home. Aside from those, what did I do?"

Iruka shook his head a little, still at a loss for words, and walked across the room, and took Kakashi by the shoulders. Grinning inside his mind, Kakashi braced himself for a shove out the window; but instead, Iruka pulled him close, and held him tightly, for a long, quiet minute.

When Kakashi realized that it really wasn't going to be followed up by a shove out the window, he chuckled a little, and slipped his arms around Iruka's waist, nestling his cheek against the new and still delightful fullness there. "Does this mean you're not going to kill me for the kitchen?"

"I don't know what to say," Iruka murmured, and shifted a hand to stroke Kakashi's hair lightly. "I don't know how you always do these things to me. You destroy the kitchen because you're so intent on telling me how you love me that you don't notice the fire. You leave the alarm at home to watch me panic at oversleeping, but you got yourself up early to surprise me with every damn box of prenatal vitamins at the store... how do you always, always manage to do the sweetest things in the world in the most obnoxious way humanly possible...?"

"It's a gift," Kakashi said wryly.

Iruka laughed, and bent to brush a kiss against his forehead. "I love you. And the next time you make me furious enough to kill you, remind me of that. I'm sure I can manage to hug you until your head explodes if I really put my mind to it."

"What a wonderful way to go," Kakashi replied, grinning. "Need any tips on positions? Because if you're collecting up ways to love me to death, I've got a long list of fantasies that I'm more than happy to contribute to the cause--"

Iruka pulled the book out of his hands, hit him over the head with it, and handed it back to him.

"...Oh, yeah. Speaking of which, you've got to read this book!" Kakashi's voice took on a note of unmistakable glee. "All kinds of amazing positions, and completely illustrated--"

"Kakashi!" Iruka protested, his face bright crimson. "There's a little girl in this house -- how could you bring something like that under their roof, where she could pick it up?"

"See for yourself," Kakashi replied, and shoved the book under his nose before he could look away.

Iruka's eyes widened. The 'position' in question had nothing to do with sex; instead, the illustration was of an unborn child nestled head-down in the mother's womb. He took the book from Kakashi's hands, then flipped through a couple of pages quickly, and then looked at the cover -- Pregnancy's Progress: Your child's development, birth, and first months of life.

Iruka's mouth was hanging open again. Silently, Kakashi patted himself on the back for another successful attempt at shocking his lover speechless.

He doesn't even stare that much when he catches me with Icha Icha Paradise. Maybe it's time to change tactics after all; this one seems to be working nicely.

Finally, in a soft, husky voice, Iruka asked, "When you're done, can I read this...?"

"You can read it now if you like," Kakashi said easily. "I've got another." And he reached into another pocket and produced the other fruit of his morning's shopping expedition.

Iruka blinked at the cover of this one. Hot Sex and Hot Mamas: Nine months of pleasuring pregnant vixens, from sensual prenatal massage to [censored] [censored] [censored], Sixth Edition, Newly Updated, 160 Pages of Illustrations Cross-referenced by Month and Position--

"...You... you... AUUUUGGGGHHHH!"

Over at the schoolhouse, the repair crew was surprised by the rather abrupt and unannounced arrival of two new recruits just after lunch. The normally polite and soft-spoken young schoolteacher was dressed in a gently rounding set of maternity overalls --and she was stalking toward the crew with a deathgrip on her husband's ear and a hammer in the other hand, shouting incoherently into his ear every step of the way as she dragged them both up the street toward the construction site.

"...And the sooner this place is livable again, the sooner I can get you out from under the roof of decent, respectable, well-meaning people who have no concept of what a perverse, explicit, and FAR too detailed set of reading material you constantly drag in like a tomcat with a mouthful of rat guts--"

"...Yes, dear." The husband looked like he was enjoying the experience. Of course, he was the one who'd blown up the kitchen in the first place. Either way, he was clearly certifiable.

"And DON'T YOU 'YES, DEAR' ME, you--"

"Yes, of course, dear. Now, let's not forget to give you your vitamins after all this exertion..."

"....ARRRGGGHHH!!!"

The work crew traded a nervous glance, and by silent mutual agreement they put down their lunches and started sawing and nailing double-time. The sooner they got this job done, the less time there was for the pregnant woman to go hormonal on them as well. There was a silent agreement among construction men that was not unlike the silent agreement among housewives. While the housewives' agreement read "No man should be allowed within 10 feet of a pressure cooker without a tranquilizer gun on the premises," the construction men's agreement read "Pregnant women with power tools and hormonal mood swings are very, very rough on the workplace injury record."

Iruka would, of course, have taken great exception to being classified under the hormonal pregnant woman subclause of the construction men's agreement, since he felt he had a perfectly legitimate reason to be furious with his perverted idiot of a lover. Over centuries of experience, the first corollary to the construction men's agreement had been fixed at "They always think they have a reason; never mention the hormonal mood swings to them or the consequenses will be unbelievably ugly," and so none of them mentioned aloud why they were being so extraordinarily helpful and fast.

Fortunately, since Iruka hadn't spent the rest of his life as a woman on the watching-and-seething end of the "Significant Looks Exchanged With Other Mood Swing Victims" routine, he thought that there was nothing more to it than simple helpfulness, and was simply rather baffled by the way they kept fixedly grinning at him and backing away as though he carried some unspeakable plague.

What with one thing and another -- including Iruka frequently applying the hammer as a motivator to his 'ex-carpenter' of a husband, who seemed less interested in work and more interested in laughing his fool head off every time the big burly construction men started warily backing away from the plump little curve of the schoolteacher's overalls -- in the end, the house was closed up enough to be declared inhabitable by that evening. (This declaration of habitability was spurred in part by an inspector nervously watching Iruka tap the hammer against the palm of a hand, and having visions of the hammer connecting with the contents of his skull like a soft-boiled egg being capped for breakfast if he provided a verdict that Iruka was unhappy with.)

The first thing Iruka did, upon being granted permission to reoccupy their house, was to take the second book away from Kakashi. He wrapped it up in several bags, and shoved it into the top back corner of the office closet, where he hoped inquisitive six-year-olds wouldn't be able to reach even if they had dragged along a stepstool. The second thing he did was to collapse onto the futon with a groan, rolling onto his side and rubbing the hollow of his back.

"...I've got to do something about this center of gravity thing..."

Kakashi didn't reply aloud; he just pulled out the first pregnancy book again, the one that hadn't triggered Iruka's confiscate-and-destroy reflex, and sat by the window to read.

After Iruka had fallen soundly asleep, he put a bookmark into it, and pulled out the final fruit of his shopping spree: this month's Icha Icha Paradise.

Nice day, Kakashi thought to himself. Got him the prenatal vitamins; scored several blushes and a near record number of silent gawks; didn't get self killed for the discovery of the educational books; he still doesn't know I've got this one. And there's still no school tomorrow, which means I can tickle him awake in the middle of the night and try out Hot Mamas page 37 on him and he can't even protest. Much.

All in all, life was good.

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Side Effects, Chapter 10

Part of Iruka regretted the loss of half a week of classes less than a month before the children left for their summer vacations. Even though the building was enclosed again, there was simply no point in holding classes one rather thin wall away from people with hammers and power tools reconstructing the inside of the kitchen. And another part of him was guiltily relieved at the delay, because it gave him more time to work on something that he really couldn't do while he was teaching... or even when he had to stand unsupported.

He'd learned the parts of sexy-no-jutsu that involved becoming visibly female, but he was already an adult, and so unlike Naruto he hadn't needed to drastically shift his height in the process. So he'd concentrated on mastering the most essential parts, and hadn't bothered changing his skeletal structure. And he wasn't looking forward to making up for that oversight. Reshaping and force-healing bones always hurt. But he had to do it soon, or else the baby would be getting big enough that he wouldn't have the strike range to fracture his pelvic arch without risking hurting the baby in the process...

Kakashi had tried to talk him into just working on shifting everything with sexy-no-jutsu. But one hour of sparring had finished off that idea. Iruka could hold sexy-no-jutsu through the most ridiculous flirts, gropes, and surprises that Kakashi could think of -- but whenever Kakashi swung anything toward Iruka's abdomen, Iruka instantly reverted to the body he was stronger with and most comfortable fighting in... and then he lost his balance. Less than halfway through the pregnancy, the child's weight was slight enough that he could correct before he fell; later on, he knew he wouldn't have that assurance.

The instinct ran far deeper than conscious thought, to protect his child with the body in which he was best trained. He wasn't going to be able to train himself out of it in time.

And it was just safer this way. He'd never before gained this much weight this quickly in one unbalancing area; if he reset his bone structure earlier rather than later, then the only shifts in balance he'd have to learn would be due to the child's growth. He didn't trust himself to learn how to carry the child's changing weight in two different arrangements of hips and shoulders and leg joints.

The truly hellish part, Iruka thought humorlessly, was that this was all necessary because of the baby -- and yet again because of the baby, he wouldn't even be able to take painkillers for it.

With a hand resting against the gently rising curve of his abdomen, Iruka said, "You know, kid, I hope someday you appreciate all this."

Kakashi stuck his head around the bedroom door. "You're determined to do this?"

Iruka nodded. "I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm determined."

Kakashi's eyes went cheerfully unreadable. This was never, ever a good sign.

"Kakashi, what are you--"

His lover's hand appeared around the edge of the doorway, with a throwing dart in it.

Sharingan. Haku. Oh, hell--

That was the last thing Iruka had time to think before the world went dark.

- - -

Kakashi looked down at Iruka's limp figure, sighed, and sat on his heels to run his hands over the arch of his hips.

He doesn't know anything about the inside of women's pelvic bones anyway. Too shy to read anything really educational; if I left it to him to redesign his hips, God knows what he'd come up with. And there's no way in hell anyone could fracture their own pelvis twice; you'd be lucky not to pass out at the first strike. All right, let's see here.

He'd already decided it would be safer to use a sound attack than a physical strike; flesh transmitted sound waves without much damage, but the rigid resistance of bone could be shattered at certain carefully overlapping frequencies. And if he turned Iruka onto his stomach and struck downward at an angle from his back, then the baby wouldn't be in the path of the sound waves; that book said that the baby wouldn't have finished forming bone yet anyway...

Kakashi closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and set his fingers to his lips, humming in a subvocal range until he felt the resonance hit the right pitch. Then he opened his eyes and struck.

- - -

It took Iruka a long, long time to realize he was actually conscious again, partially because it was dark outside, and partially because he was completely and utterly limp in what felt like the aftermath of mindblowing sex.

When he managed to put a name to that feeling, it stirred a little indignation, but he was so far lost in boneless bliss that he couldn't seem to manage to protest it. With a giggle that sounded giddy even to his own ears, Iruka asked a shadow in the windowsill, "Took shameless advantage of an unresisting body to try that book on...? If that's what happened here... then I've got to read that...!"

Kakashi chuckled, low-pitched. "Words I never thought I'd hear you say. I ought to seize the opportunity while you're clearly not thinking like yourself, you know. Damn, looks like I haven't managed to banish all my morals yet."

"So what happened...?"

"I rerouted some things," Kakashi said. "Instead of feeding into your pain receptors, all those nerve endings are feeding into your pleasure receptors for a while. Closest I could think of to a drug-free painkiller that doesn't leave you paralyzed, anyway."

Iruka thought about it, and blinked a couple of times, hazily. "Can I get you to do this to me again...?"

Kakashi struggled with himself for a long, long minute. "...Damn stupid morals...! I have got to do something about those..."

"Opportunity doesn't knock every day," Iruka purred, and tried to reach toward him. The resulting jolt of pure euphoria made his breath catch short, and then he made a near-animalistic sound of utter bliss. "Get down here...!"

Kakashi was kneeling at his side in a heartbeat -- but rather than stripping him and starting to play, the silver-haired figure bent over him and touched careful hands to the splints and restraints holding him in place. "...Don't do that. Don't move. Hell, I guess there's a reason to let a little bit of the ache get through after all; I've got to let you know how not to hurt yourself..." He stopped, blinked, and shook his head sharply. "Bad idea. Bad  idea. I'm not going to wire you to get pain and pleasure that tangled up. Just... trust me on this one, okay? Don't move for a few more hours."

"Awww...!" The pressure of breathing enough to speak sent a waterfall of bliss pouring through every nerve in his body, and he giggled again, breathless.

Kakashi shut his eyes tight, struggling against unspeakable temptation.

Just breathing was enough to send delight shivering through him; a vague and distant corner of Iruka's mind observed that that had to be saying something about the amount of pain he would otherwise have been in, but the rest of his mind was too busy exulting in the orgasmic effect of being alive to take much notice of it. He reached for Kakashi's hand, rubbed a thumb needily against the hollow of his palm, and purred deep in his throat.

Even half mad with ecstasy, he knew the limits of Kakashi's self-restraint well enough to break them when he really wanted to. With a heartfelt groan, Kakashi bent over and brushed his lips against Iruka's, softly at first, and then stronger.

But somehow, that didn't seem to be affecting him at all. Iruka struggled to reach closer, to beg for more, and something in the attempt at motion set off a wild cascade of fireworks behind his eyes.

With a shuddering sigh, Kakashi nipped his lower lip, and Iruka finally managed to connect the little jolt of delight with the thought that it should have hurt.

"Being gentle isn't going to do anything for you right now," Kakashi said, his voice ragged with desire and frustration. "And I'm not enough of a bastard to hurt you. And you don't need me the way you think you do right now, much as it pains me to admit that... close your eyes and go back to sleep."

"Kakashi...!" Iruka gazed up at him with completely unfair puppydog eyes hazed with raw lust.

Kakashi swore under his breath, and took out another needle.

- - -

Despite completely undue temptation the next few times Iruka woke, Kakashi managed to keep him both still and fairly quiet for the next couple of days, until the bones had knitted back together enough under the pressure of accelerated healing for it to be safe to let him move on his own. The casts came off by the weekend; at that point, since there weren't any outward signs left, and since his pain had eased to a level where he was no longer blissfully trying to seduce anything that moved, Kakashi thought it was safe enough to let the construction workers and the occasional curious child see him.

Iruka spent most of his time carefully settled in the sofa or a hammock, still drowsing between the drain of healing and his body's own sleepy reaction to prolonged pleasure. He read the same chapter of the pregnancy book four or five times, because it kept slipping out of his hands when he nodded off, and he never remembered where it was he'd fallen asleep the last time.

And he didn't even complain about meals that consisted entirely of takeout ramen, strawberries, and prenatal vitamins. In one sense, it wasn't Kakashi's fault he couldn't cook anything, since the wall with the stove still didn't have its connections back in place. Of course, in the other sense, that was entirely Kakashi's fault too, so he just crossed his fingers and hoped Iruka didn't notice.

They spent most of Sunday teaching Iruka how to walk again. Kakashi had corrected his nerve paths, so that Iruka could tell if he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do; but Iruka kept inexplicably laughing anyway, even without the shift in the neural feedback.

"How do women do this?" he asked, leaning most of his weight on locked arms on the railings as he very, very cautiously practiced going up and down the first three steps of the stairway. "Everything's... down, and forward, and... --I'm going to have to commend Sakura-kun again when we get back; I don't know how she even walks around... particularly when you add things like those ridiculous six-inch high heels to the mess! How do any of them keep from breaking their necks?"

"Practice, I suppose," Kakashi said drolly. "And speaking of practice, I'm still planning on taking you up on that offer."

"Which offer?"

"You said you wanted to read through That Book for inspirational purposes, remember?"

Iruka's jaw dropped, and he let go of the railing in order to lunge at Kakashi. "You liar!"

"No I'm not!" Kakashi protested, dodging and planting both fists on his hips. "Well, all right, sometimes, but not this time--" He ducked another swing, and said, "Honestly, if I was going to make up a lie like that, wouldn't I make up something that made sense?"

"Being late for graduation because mutant orchid grasshoppers were staging a revolt and trying to seize control of the nation's vital kumquat shipping trade?"

"Well, you see..."

"Missing the end of Sakura-kun's first solo mission because the Holy Ramen Spring had been blown up by rice-eating terrorists who knew the Konoha ninja would be so demoralized by a week of nothing but rice porridge that they could walk in and have their way with their sex goddess Tsunade?"

"I can explain that--"

"Turning up four hours late for our anniversary date because Naruto and Sasuke had started shagging each other in the middle of trying to kill each other, and then you had to stop them both from killing themselves long enough to get them to cheer up and work on killing each other again?!"

"That actually happened!"

"You liar!"

"But--"

Iruka stopped in the middle of the room and stared down at his feet. "...I didn't fall over?"

Clinging to the top of the light fixture he'd scrambled up to keep Iruka from committing assault and battery, Kakashi said encouragingly, "See? That's progress!"

Iruka took a couple more experimental steps, to make sure he could still do it consciously as opposed to instinctively while in the grip of mad bloodlust; then he laughed again.

"All right, this time I forgive you. I suppose you were right, at that; I probably wasn't going to stop worrying and just move until you got me irritated enough to try to strangle you again. But you just know all the buttons to push, don't you?"

With a morose little sigh, Kakashi said, "But I wasn't lying. Damn, I should've known it was too good to last... all right, that does it; next time, screw the morals..."

---

Author's note:

Wow, this is taking longer than I thought; I originally thought it was going to be three or four chapters. But they just keep DOING things, and things keep exploding, and then Kakashi makes a naughty suggestion in my head, and then Iruka tries to kill him before I can write it down, and that turns out hilarious to watch, and it just keeps snowballing... I originally thought this piece was going to be maybe half a page of exposition and then on to the next piece of the story, except then Kakashi pulled out the needle, and... ^^;;; one of these days I've got to learn to put a leash on the plot bunnies...

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! (A first-ever review? I'm flattered! And grateful too... now I just hope I don't screw up the story and disappoint people... ^^;;)

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Side Effects, Chapter 11

The last three weeks of school before summer vacation passed far too quickly for Iruka; he felt that he was still behind in trying to make up for the missed time, no matter how often Megumi-chan reminded him that she could write 'dandelion' perfectly. And a tangled snarl of other worries kept him awake later than he ought to be up. On midsummer's eve, after saying gentle farewells to his schoolchildren for a few weeks, Iruka found himself completely unable to sleep for worrying.

With a voiceless, internal sigh, he slipped out of bed as quietly as he could manage, hoping not to disturb his tranquilly snoring lover.

A couple of weeks earlier, of course, there would have been no way he could have managed quietly slipping out of bed. He'd been quite serious about his intention of practicing holding sexy-no-jutsu through anything, in preparation for labor... except that Kakashi had promptly taken it upon himself to make sure that Iruka really, really meant anything.

And Kakashi was, as ever, the world's most cheerfully uninhibited pervert.

When he was awake, Iruka could deal with the random gropes and squeezes and fondlings by learning to keep kunai stashed in every possible hiding place; the looseness and draping of maternity clothing was actually a distinct asset in that area. And when the kunai didn't work, he resorted in exasperation to redecorating the walls with craters shaped like the back of Kakashi's skull, thanks to a previously somewhat rusty left hook that was suddenly getting a lot of fresh practice.

But Iruka simply hadn't learned the reflex of knocking his lover into next week while he was still asleep... and Kakashi slept as late as he liked, which meant that he also stayed up as late as he liked, waiting for Iruka to nod off so that he could pounce.

Iruka hadn't previously realized how tender and sensitive a woman's breasts became when milk was beginning to develop for the baby.

Kakashi, on the other hand, thought that breasts were an irresistable squeeze toy, and that breasts belonging to his lover had his name written on whatever gift wrapping they came presented in. The rationale seemed to go something along the lines of "But they're there."

Iruka had tried pleading with him, reasoning with him, threatening him, and finally the left hook -- and after a certain number of craters in the walls, Kakashi had finally begun to keep his hands to himself through the day. Except, of course, for the occasions when he decided it was "time to make sure Iruka wasn't letting his guard drop."

At night, Kakashi knew quite well that Iruka hadn't mastered the art of unconscious-left-hook-no-jutsu, despite the weeks of  motivational encouragement that he'd so helpfully offered toward the development of such a technique. So Kakashi took shameless advantage of its absence. Iruka had lost track of the number of times he'd woken in the middle of the night to find a sleeping Kakashi with both hands groping an unbelievably sensitive area, wearing a dreamily smug ear-to-ear grin.

There really was no way to get the proper angle of impact needed to leave a Kakashi-crater in the wall when both participants were starting the process lying down; and when Iruka had just woken up to a groping, he was usually feeling too sore, exasperated, and wanting-to-go-back-to-sleep to try to summon the energy to leave a Kakashi-crater in the ceiling.

So, a week ago, Iruka had locked himself in the attic and practiced until he perfected a certain variation on Naruto's sexy-no-jutsu that he could sleep with.

After some consideration, he'd named it "pervert-counteraction-no-jutsu." It involved only being pregnant from the middle of the ribcage down, and leaving the top half to the socks.

Kakashi had protested vigorously, of course -- both the name and the implementation. But Iruka found it much easier to sleep when the only things keeping him awake were his own worries; so he slept in his pervert-counteraction-no-jutsu no matter how Kakashi whined. It had become as much a part of the nightly routine as the brushing the teeth and the pair of pajamas.

...Although he was going to need a new pair of pajamas soon; he'd let out the drawstring waist as much as he could, and then nestled the waistband under the growing curve of his belly, but the top wasn't quite long enough when part of it was being filled out by the same growing bulge. And Kakashi had decided that since Iruka was being so mean as to deny him the squeeze toy, the little crescent of tummy that peeked out between top and bottom was clearly meant for his tickle toy. And there was nothing at all Iruka could think to do about that, except to buy new pajamas...

...except that there was also the matter of a repair bill for the kitchen which added up to about four months' paychecks, compounded by the fact that since school wasn't in session for several weeks, he wouldn't have any paychecks for quite some time...

Iruka sighed deeply, and looked into the refrigerator, and started to make himself a peanut butter and strawberry sandwich.

Kakashi teased him mercilessly about the sandwiches, of course. Iruka replied that the only difference between a peanut butter and strawberry-jam sandwich and a peanut butter and strawberry sandwich was that the jam contained a lot of extra sugar that the baby didn't need.

Kakashi always replied with some quip to the effect of "and I can see how well your weight loss plan has been working, too." Iruka usually replied to that with the left hook, since his right hand was busy with the peanut butter jar.

The kitchen was going to need another remodeling before the first one was even paid off, too... there had to be a limit to how many skull-shaped craters drywall could contain before it started becoming structurally unsound.

Iruka sighed, and licked the peanut butter off the spoon, and poured a glass of milk, and walked outside.

The back porch had been repaired as well; the railing the carpenters had put in was sturdier than its predecessor had been. They'd added more supporting slats so that a wandering child couldn't slip through and fall off the edge of the porch. Another stove impact was beyond reasonable construction specifications, of course, but Iruka appreciated their thoughtfulness for the children's sake. The top rail was sanded smooth to prevent splinters, and the corners had been planed off to prevent a cut if a child tripped and fell against it. With both hands full, Iruka set a bare foot against the rail, feeling the satin-smooth texture of the wood's varnish; then on impulse he stepped up onto it.

When Iruka looked straight down, he could see the tips of his toes, but that wasn't going to last much longer... still, it had been a long, long time since he'd needed to worry about seeing his feet. And somehow, it was comforting to remind himself that he hadn't forgotten all his skills despite a reshaped and still-changing body. Walking practice was soothing.

--All right. It wasn't 'walking practice.' It was pacing a worried line back and forth along the porch rail. But it gave his body something to do while his mind fretted at the knotted tangle of his life.

Iruka knew he loved that lecherous, irresponsible walking disaster area of a man sleeping up in their bed. He couldn't imagine life without that constant unpredictable spark of exuberance that made every single day an adventure. But somehow, every single worry in his life left a trail that led straight back to Kakashi's feet.

Iruka found it both embarrassing and deeply disquieting to be in debt for four months of salary that he hadn't yet earned, in a town where they were only visiting for a year, and where no one knew Iruka's sense of responsibility well enough to offer him a grace period on the repayment. And anyone who spent more than a week around Kakashi knew better than to offer him any kind of grace period for anything. Even if he'd had a job to help pay for his mess. Which he didn't. And Iruka couldn't see anyone in their right mind actually hiring Kakashi for a job, either... or at least not without firing him within a week for his chronic tardiness, general lackadaisical irresponsibility, and fast and loose approach to anything resembling rules of conduct.

If Iruka had known in advance that their rented house was going to need such an expensive remodeling at such an inconvenient time, he would have been looking for a summer job or a second job months earlier. But, of course, emergencies never happened on schedule. And the baby was getting big enough that it would be awkward trying to conceal his condition for job interviews at this point.

The thought of working two jobs this fall, teaching and a part-time job through his last trimester, was exhausting just to contemplate.

And of course, that itself was Kakashi's responsibility as well... beginning with Kakashi's refusal to even attempt to learn sexy-no-jutsu properly and ending with, well, a snugly rounded pair of pajamas and a cool breeze tickling the small bared crescent of Iruka's belly on midsummer's eve, poised at the halfway point of a completely unexpected pregnancy.

The porch railing was twelve and a half steps from one end to the other, around each corner and over the gap of the steps; Iruka sighed again, and turned on the ball of one foot, and then started back along the railing setting each foot directly in front of the other, heel to toes. ...Thirty-eight foot-lengths. Probably four for the step-space...

...the milk glass was empty; he knelt on the rail to set it down on the porch, then stood again, looking dispiritedly at the last few bites of his sandwich. Somehow, milk glasses were never the right shape to last as long as a peanut butter sandwich, so the last few bites of sandwich always got peanut-butter-glued to the back of his throat; one of these days he was going to think of a solution to that, but tonight he had bigger things to worry about.

...step, step, step...

Four months of paychecks just for the repairs, leaving nothing over for food and rent. He had saved some money in Konoha, but the entire purpose of being undercover was to eliminate all traces connecting the two of them to the legendary Sharingan Kakashi and a fairly anonymous instructor from a too-well-known ninja training academy. He couldn't write to the Hokage, he couldn't leave such a direct trail between the two places... they were here alone because they were two adult and highly trained shinobi trusted to accomplish their deep-cover mission without any support from Konoha.

And Iruka didn't want to face the thought that he'd already let the situation slip into a potentially irretrievable failure.

The baby stirred inside, a little nudge soft as a kitten's paw; Iruka paused in his pacing, and cupped a hand to the gently but inexorably ripening curve. The other hand went to rub the small of his back, which ached almost constantly of late.

If I hadn't gotten pregnant, none of this would have happened. He would never have blown up the kitchen because he would have let me cook...

...no, I take that back; nobody can ever say 'never' anywhere within ten miles of Kakashi. But even if he'd still blown up the kitchen somehow, I could have gotten a second job this fall. I could have been a takeout delivery runner; I'm fast -- at least, I used to be -- and I'm still punctual, and this isn't that big a town. But that's completely out of the question now...

It took two to tango, he always tells me, but I'm the one who's incapable of pulling my own weight now. I'm the one who can't make up the lack, even if the kitchen was his fault. He is who he is. He's a warrior, not a carpenter, and not a frighteningly bad excuse for a househusband. He lives his life poised between absolute sloth and the perpetual vigilance that never lets him truly rest.

He is himself, and no one can change that in him, and I wouldn't want to try. I was the one sent to make the cover story plausible, to teach the village children, to be the one who let us survive here. It was my responsibility to build our cover, to build our life, no matter what. The Hokage trusted us to handle this completely on our own. But we're failing the mission inch by inch, every day I can't think of something to do to fix this...

And there still hasn't been any sign of trouble -- other than the exploding kitchen he created, there's been no sign of ninja or demons; the Hokage said to be prepared for anything, to expect the unexpected. But I never expected this. And now the mission may fail because I can't work hard enough to make up for it... if we leave too soon, I don't know what could happen.

I don't know why we were to wait all year. I don't know what the Hokage might have foreseen coming to this place. But if I can't think of some way to make up for what's happened, we'll have to abort the mission and leave early, and I can't bear not knowing what might be out there waiting for us to leave before it attacks.

They're so completely defenseless here -- and at my best I was only half the fighter Kakashi is, and I'm far less than my best now, and I'll only get worse as the months pass...

"What the hell are you DOING?!"

Iruka spun on the ball of one foot, pulling a kunai out of the pocket of the pajamas, scanning for the source of that voice -- just as a black blur tipped in silver dropped out of the upstairs window and swept him off the railing on the way down. He never hit the ground; Kakashi had caught him up in his arms somehow, and he'd landed kneeling in the dew-wet grass without letting even Iruka's toes touch the ground, and he was shaking all over.

"What are you doing? I heard you get into the refrigerator for one of those ridiculous sandwiches but it was taking you too long to come back; I looked out the window and-- my God, what were you thinking? If you fell -- if you--"

...If I fell off a railing three feet off the ground?! How pathetic does he think I am? Like THAT'S the biggest problem I've been fighting tonight--

Somehow, it was the last straw. Something inside Iruka simply snapped.

"You reckless, arrogant bastard -- don't you dare lecture me on responsibility! You're the one who shouted at me out of nowhere; you're the one who knocked me off the rail; you're the one who got me into this ludicrous condition in the first place -- I taught at the academy, I could walk that rail blindfolded, drunk, and with both hands tied behind my back, and I don't care if you're the top jounin in Konoha, don't you dare treat me like an untrained cripple!"

"You're nearly crippled; you're pregnant," Kakashi growled.

"'Pregnant' does not mean 'incapacitated'! Are you going to drag the bed downstairs so I don't endanger myself with walking up a staircase next?"

"I'm worried about you, moron."

"If you're that intent on worrying about every single step I take, why don't you spare some of that attention for your own asinine stunts?" Iruka shot back. "I'm doing my damnedest to pull my weight, but even if my best isn't good enough -- why do you have to make it so bloody hard for my best to be worth anything? How are we going to eat this fall when every paycheck I'm getting until October has got to go to paying off the repair work from the hole in these people's schoolhouse?"

Kakashi looked completely poleaxed. "...Until October?"

"How much did you think structural damage to a rented house costs to repair anyway? The landlords are used to ninja damage insurance writeoffs in Konoha, but there's no Acts-of-God-or-Ninja escape clause in the lease here; I checked! Twice!"

Looking even more bemused, Kakashi echoed, "Ninja damage insurance writeoffs...?"

"There's no other way a property owner could afford to keep up enough repairs to stay in business around there, you know," Iruka muttered, rubbing his temples. "Or didn't you ever read your lease before you signed it?  Either way -- we can't get help from Konoha; we can't even communicate or we'll be trackable. We're on our own here, sink or swim, and we're doing a lot more sinking than swimming. I don't know if I'm the one who's failed, or if you are, or if we've just screwed everything up together, but I can't think of a way to salvage this mess--"

Somehow, it all came pouring out -- the fear of aborting the mission halfway, the guilt at being unable to act as a fully equal partner, the worries about needing a second job for their debt when his pregnancy would be at its most tiring, the resentment at being coddled and groped and teased when he needed help solving their problems rather than gleefully condescending harassment, the anxiety of half a year of waiting for a disaster that never came, except for the ones they'd created themselves...

The tears burning their way down his face were nothing but the final humiliation atop an unbearable flood of shame and frustration and anxiety. "I love you," Iruka choked. "I love you, but I don't know if I even like you right now. I know I was never a jounin. I know I was never a warrior. I know I was always the weak link in this mission, even before this happened. You don't have to rub it in. You don't have to treat me like I'm more useless than a child. --I wasn't walking on phone wires thirty feet up. I was walking on a two-by-four three feet off the ground. Even I'm not that worthless as a shinobi, not even now."

"Iruka..."

"I've been doing my damnedest to try to make up for everything I can't be, but somehow you keep making it harder," Iruka whispered, his voice worn hoarse. "I don't know what to do. It's my place to be the one who thinks ahead, but no matter how I think, I can't see a way out of this when I'm the only one responsible enough to hold a job. And these people have children I care about. And a forest with God knows what in it, something that could just be waiting for you to leave -- I may be too pathetic to bother with, but anything with any power would recognize you. I'm sure we're here for a year for a reason. We need to stay. I just can't think of a way to make it possible anymore..."

"I can get a job," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka laughed a little, exhausted. "And keep it for three days? I know you, love. You're a snow-leopard in a man's skin. Lethal and beautiful, and completely uncivilized. And you laze around sixteen hours a day and decorate the world the rest, except for the hour or two when you're pure death on the prowl... I'm a farm-dog, I understand that. I'm dull and slow and mundane and predictable. But I'm the one who has to earn our keep. I know you. You'd take a job with the best intentions in the world. But no one outside Konoha would let you keep one."

Then Iruka streaked a hand across his cheeks to try to erase the lingering tear-tracks, and added sourly, "And if you tell me this is just a pregnancy-induced hormonal mood swing, I swear to God I'm going to castrate you with a rusty pen knife."

Kakashi said nothing at all for a long, long moment, just holding him close, and resting his cheek against the dark crown of Iruka's hair. Finally, so low-pitched that Iruka wasn't entirely sure he'd spoken at all, he said, "That's what's been keeping you awake at nights? All this time?"

"That or you groping me, one of the two," Iruka replied tartly, scrubbing at his face again. "I'm supposed to be the one of us who's responsible and dependable. But this time we've finally gotten into a predicament I can't think our way out of, no matter how hard I work and no matter how much I try to be responsible enough for both of us. So I hope you have some wonderful, brilliant, completely off-the-wall brainstorm that I've overlooked. You're good at being brilliant. I'm not brilliant; I know that. I just work hard. And I'm just... I'm worn out. I can't work hard enough or be responsible enough to fix this, not anymore..."

"Why didn't you mention this a month ago?"

Iruka ducked his head. "...I was... terrified. I'm not used to things like this. You're the warrior, I'm the strategist, and I couldn't find a strategy that was even worth the mentioning... and it hurts that I can't even uphold my half of the balance now. Even if I can't fight like this, at least I could think our way out of anything, right? Except this one I just can't... I'm... I'm sorry, I'm failing you again--"

"Like hell you are," Kakashi growled; he lifted Iruka into his arms, and carried him back indoors. "None of this is your fault, idiot."

"We're a team," Iruka murmured, eyes closed. "We're a team precisely because our strengths are opposites. If I can't balance you well enough for both of us to make it through, then I've failed..."

"And if I screw up so much of the mission that nobody could 'balance' it, what then?"

Iruka ran a hand down his face, shaking with exhaustion and the aftermath of releasing that much pent-up frustration and fear.

"...You didn't mean to destroy the kitchen. And... what you were saying... it was unbelievably sweet. --Up to the point where you pulled out the daibakufu no jutsu, it wasn't going all that badly..."

Kakashi flopped down on the couch with an enormous sigh, still cradling Iruka close. "...Next time, tell me this kind of stuff."

Iruka rolled his eyes heavenward. "What do you mean, tell you? You were there! I thought it was obvious when the wall blew out that there were going to be expensive consequenses. Haven't you ever had someone chase you down demanding you pay for the collateral damage that seems to collect around Group Seven like a homing beacon? I know you've been in on some of it. I know you've been responsible for some of it."

Kakashi gave a short, dry chuckle. "I specialize in avoiding both bills and responsibility like the sadistic plague they are. I thought you'd noticed that part, too."

"...Yeah." Iruka sniffled a little, because his sinuses were protesting the crying bout, and he let his head rest against Kakashi's shoulder. "I meant it. You're so quick with those I'm-late excuses and such, you come up with the most amazing ideas sometimes; do you have any brilliant ideas for this...? Some kind of well-paying job that didn't involve too much running around... I mean, I could be a clerk or a copyist or something; that type of work doesn't pay very well, but I could work more hours if the job wasn't physically tiring..."

"You're not working two jobs, you twit."

Iruka stiffened. "I'm not, am I? Just like that, just because you declare it so? Just like I'm not walking around without a leash to make sure I don't fall down and bump my knee? Kakashi, I've never seen you patronize anyone like this. It's like me getting pregnant turned you into such a condescending--"

"Ah, dammit, I'm not trying to pick another fight..." Kakashi dug a hand through his hair, and said, "Listen, just hear me out for a minute. Promise me that you'll just listen for a little bit."

Warily, Iruka nodded. "You've got five minutes before I try to rip your head off and scream some sense into the echoing cavity of your skull. And I'm counting."

Kakashi took a deep breath, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, sighed hugely, and dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "...Why is it I'm so much better at lying than at telling the truth?"

"More practice?" Iruka guessed darkly, and Kakashi gave a small snort that could have been meant for a laugh.

"Yeah, that would be it." With another sigh, he nestled his cheek against the soft rumpled mess of Iruka's ponytail, and tried again.

"Let's make a deal," he murmured. "I'll try to stop worrying so much. I'm new at this father stuff. But I'll work on not panicking when you want to pace on the railings or practice kata or something. I didn't mean to be condescending, and I promise I'll trust your judgement. I know you've always been the more careful one of us, and I know there's no reason that would change now. So I'll try to stop overprotecting you. But in return, here's your part of the deal: You'll work on pretending you think I'm good for anything at all."

Iruka froze rigid in his arms, shocked, and then frantic. "I never said--"

Kakashi set a finger to his lips gently. "Five minutes, remember? You promised."

"But I didn't say th--"

Kakashi replaced his finger with his palm, smiling ruefully. "You've been worrying yourself sick about how you could singlehandedly earn enough to repay my screwup, and you keep refusing to consider the fact that I'm sitting around the house doing nothing while you're already working a full-time job. You never gave me the chance to get myself fired; you just assume I will."

Completely miserable, Iruka mumbled into his palm, "Kakashi--"

"I'm not saying you don't have the evidence to back you up," he said, still rueful. "I'm just asking you to give me the chance to help fix this." Then, with his best rogue's grin, he added, "Besides, I'm a copy-nin! I'm sure I can learn how to pretend to pass for a responsible and dependable adult. Let me use Sharingan on you for responsibility-no-jutsu, and I'll bet I could fool the mayor in a week or so!

"Kakashi--!"

"So what do you think? Have we got a deal? I try to stop mollycoddling you, and you try relying on me, once in a while?"

"...Yes, but I never, ever said that you were a good-for-nothing--"

"You didn't need to," Kakashi replied quietly. "The next time I'm making an ass of myself trying to cheer you up by teasing you sick and groping you six ways from Sunday, and driving you mad because you're depressed and pissed off and worrying about something else entirely -- tell me that, okay? Sometimes I'm dense."

"I'd have thought the left hook would have indicated some general 'stop that right now you bastard' type of thing, you know," Iruka said with a sigh. "And if the left hook wasn't getting it across, I didn't know what else could -- at least not without adding a hospital bill to the picture."

Kakashi chuckled. "This is the tricky part of being guys, you know. Nobody's got the let's-eat-chocolate-and-talk-about-our-relationship-honey gene."

"...Yeah. But... I never said you..."

Kakashi set his fingertips to Iruka's lips again. "You didn't have to say it," he repeated. "You didn't even have to think it. The facts just kind of spoke for themselves."

Iruka sighed a little. "And what about the things the the rest of the facts were speaking? You were groping me trying to 'cheer me up'...?"

Kakashi's expression was just a little too angelic. "Of course! I'm sure you're feeling insecure about your body; the pregnancy book says that women worry that their husbands might find them less attractive as they begin to gain weight. I thought someone should reassure you that you're always unbelievably sexy. And you might need frequent reminders. I felt a moral obligation..."

Iruka's eyebrow was twitching dangerously. "You felt a moral obligation to grope me."

Kakashi considered for a moment, rubbing his chin, then nodded brightly. "Yep, sounds about right! Entirely for your own self-esteem, of course."

"And nothing at all to do with the fact that you're the most unselfconsciously perverted lecher in a five hundred mile radius."

"Of course not."

Rubbing his temples again, Iruka considered his options. I'm sitting on him, so I can't knock him into orbit. Damn. I know better than to try to win a duel of wits with him when the topic is even remotely kinky. He's got a built-in unfair advantage. I think that just leaves this...

Iruka twisted in Kakashi's arms enough to be able to gaze up into his eyes. "Morals -- those I have to encourage, don't I..."

Kakashi nodded brightly. "It's required. By law."

Iruka nodded as though that had made any sense whatsoever, and tilted his head up to brush a gentle kiss against Kakashi's cheek. "...There. That's your encouragement. Now, let's talk about the rest of the laws."

"The rest of the laws...?"

"The ones that call 'repeatedly groping a person's breasts without invitation' aggravated sexual harassment, you son of a bitch!"

A noteworthy side benefit of being at the correct angle for kissing was that Iruka was also at the correct angle for getting both hands around Kakashi's throat and starting to squeeze.

"Have you got any idea how much those ache? I tried telling you that along with the left hook approximately the first three or four dozen times you tried it! If you never listen when I say things, how the hell else am I supposed to 'talk about our relationship,' honey?"

"...ggrrkkk..."

"You know, you did have a point there, though -- I'm finding this conversation terribly therapeutic--"

"...gaaahhh..."

"...we've really got to do this more often! Now, that is your cue to say 'yes, dear'..."

Hacking and wheezing as he gasped for breath around a half-crushed windpipe, Kakashi managed a feeble, "yes'h dear..."

"Much better."

---

Author's note: Yikes, rollercoaster chapter. Turned out twice as long as any of the rest of them too. Glad I've got it out of the road though; it was something they needed to straighten out sometime, and now I think the big explosive fireworks are over with... well, except for Kakashi's next brainstorm on how to fix the repair bill, but that one's for next time. ^_~  I feel kind of guilty about throwing "ninja damage insurance writeoffs" smack into the middle of an otherwise serious discussion, but it struck me that there was no other rational way to explain why there were still any intact buildings standing in Konoha... ^_^;;

About Iruka in chapter 10: I figured it would take either massive mood-altering drugs or some equivalent to get Iruka in a mood like that... and it felt like a nicely ironic twist of fate that the only time Kakashi manages to get him that whacked out on the ninja equivalent of happy pills, he's got too many broken bones to deal with it at the time and he doesn't remember a bit of it afterward. I'm so evil... ^_^;;

(Besides, this one IS rated PG-13. Although I've contemplated writing a little side-story scribble in which Kakashi teaches Iruka about towel racks and what to do with them... ^___^ and yes, towel racks DO correspond to something, in his own bizarre lexicon of bathroom fixture analogies...)

Side Effects, Chapter 12 .Normal {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoBodyText {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; font-style:italic;} -->

Side Effects, Chapter 12

The next morning, Iruka woke to the smell of hot coffee and something containing far too much sugar; he blinked his way back to consciousness, and realized he was still lying on the sofa. At some point Kakashi had tucked a pillow under his head and a blanket over him; a slurping sound from the kitchen indicated that Kakashi was likely the origin of the coffee smell, too.

The sugar-sweet smell was from an open box of donuts; Kakashi had one in one hand and a mug in the other and a far too self-pleased expression on.

"Who's good for nothing?" he needled with a grin. "Breakfast and a solution to the money problems."

"I never said you were--" Iruka stopped, and blinked again. There was a bag sitting on the table. It had the name of a bank on it. It also looked suspiciously heavy. "...Kakashi, what did you do?"

"Don't you even want a donut first?"

"What did you DO?!"

Kakashi took another sip of the coffee just to be maddening, and then grinned up at Iruka's voiceless bristling. "The bank was terribly helpful with loan arrangements."

"...You went to the bank and got a loan? --You went to the bank and someone gave you a loan?"

"I'm hurt! Wounded to the soul..."

"Kakashi..."

Kakashi tipped his head to one side, with one of his most charmingly happy-go-lucky smiles. "You sound just like Pakkun when you growl like that. That's so cute..."

"Kakashi!"

"No problems at all! Walked in the door, walked out with the money -- it was simple..."

Very carefully, Iruka sank into one of the kitchen chairs, and braced both hands on the table. "...You're serious. Someone actually gave you a loan?"

"No questions asked!"

Fingertips to his temples, fighting off a wave of vertigo at the complete upending of everything he previously thought he'd understood about how the world worked, Iruka said, "So what are the terms?"

"Terms?"

"They had to mention a repayment deadline and a percentage rate..."

"The terms are 'whenever we can, we'll repay them.' Don't worry about it."

Something was deeply, profoundly wrong with this. "Kakashi -- I don't care if the bank was being run by Hinata-kun's even more saintly old grandmother, nobody does business like that! What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," Kakashi said, still smiling, but his eye was sober. "I don't ever want that to happen again. You worrying yourself sick over something that was my idiotic blunder... it makes me disgusted with myself. It was my responsibility to repair, and let's just say I've fixed it. There's no catch. We'll just repay them when we can. That's all."

"Let me see the loan agreement," Iruka said.

"The what?"

"You had to at least sign your name to a piece of paper," he said, still disoriented.

Kakashi scratched behind one ear, with a sheepish expression. "Well... they didn't mention that part."

"They didn't mention that part?!"

Looking even more sheepish, Kakashi mumbled, "...theydon'tactuallyknowtheygavemetheloan..."

Iruka blinked several times while he tried to parse that sentence.

"...Here. Coffee. Donuts. I'm sure you're hungry; I'm sure the baby's hungry even if you're not--"

"What the hell do you mean, they don't know they gave you the loan?!?! What did you DO? --Hatake Kakashi, did you STEAL THAT MONEY FROM THE BANK?!"

"Shhhh! Not so loud..."

"You DID?!?!"

"I didn't steal it!" Kakashi protested. "I just borrowed it! People borrow money all the time. I'll pay them back--"

"If they don't know you have their money, then that's STEALING, you--"

"But they weren't doing anything with it!" Kakashi said. "It was just sitting there in this room--"

"And how many locked and bolted doors did you go through to GET INTO that room?!"

Kakashi sighed, and gloomily took another bite of his donut. "Just a couple. They practically had an invitation hung on the door. It was the most pathetic excuse for a security system I'd ever seen--"

Iruka spent the next fifteen minutes shouting at the top of his lungs about how these people weren't ninja and didn't expect to defend themselves from people with ninja abilities and just because he could do it didn't make it right to do it no matter how much Kakashi wanted to stop Iruka from worrying. In fact, he'd just come up with an entirely new source of worries and Iruka far preferred the previous night's impoverished honesty to this morning's guilt-ridden terror, thanks ever so much--

Kakashi was staring at him rather blankly through the whole thing.

"...You're serious?"

"DAMN STRAIGHT I'M SERIOUS!"

"...But they weren't even doing anything with it. It'd be months before they noticed. If they noticed at all. The kinds of bureaucracy--"

"I DON'T CARE!"

Kakashi scrubbed a hand through his hair, and sighed. "You're really serious, aren't you."

"I have never in my life even contemplated theft, larceny, or fraud, and I certainly don't intend to start now! Now of all times -- alone, undercover, when I'm... like this... -- how could you...?"

Somehow, Kakashi took that one despairing question more seriously than the rest of the tirade combined; he flinched as though he'd been struck, and then he picked up the bag. "I'll take it back, then," he murmured.

"...What?"

"You don't want it to be this way; fine, I'll take it back."

"Right now? In the middle of the day? What if someone sees...?"

Kakashi gave him a half-lidded look. "I am a jounin, you know," he said. And he vanished in a puff of smoke, just because he could, before Iruka could protest further.

Iruka paced circles around the kitchen, torn between panic and outrage, until Kakashi popped back in ten minutes later.

"...And you didn't even devour the rest of the donuts while I was gone? Dare I hope that means I'm forgiven?"

"It means I'm too worried even to think about food, you moron!" Iruka caught him close, torn between hugging him breathless and shaking him until his teeth rattled.

Kakashi offered a rueful, crooked smile. "One of these days I'm going to have to do something about these morals of yours. You seem to spend a lot of time making yourself miserable with them... --yes, yes, I'm kidding. Smile for me, love. That's all I really wanted..."

Iruka shut his eyes tight and dropped his head forward against Kakashi's shoulder. "It terrifies me to realize that you're not lying this time."

"Why so?"

"Because I can far too easily see you deciding that it was a good idea to go out and rob a bank just because you thought it might make me smile! Because the chain of events in your head went 'Iruka is worried about money' to 'Where do I get money' to 'Banks have lots of it just lying around!' That is what went through your head, isn't it..."

"That and a couple other things," Kakashi admitted with a grin. "It did seem more likely that I could get away with money by robbing a bank than by convincing anyone around here to give me a job. Easier, too. I figured you probably weren't going to go for the idea, though. But it was worth a shot..."

Iruka said nothing, for a long, long moment.

Fluffing Iruka's ponytail with playful fingers, Kakashi said, "This sounds like I've messed up again. Is this the point where you scold me for another hour or the point where you beat me with the frying pan?"

"Do you have any concept of why that was wrong...?"

"Of course," Kakashi said. "But it was less wrong than some of the alternatives."

"What alternatives are more wrong than robbing a bank?"

"I'm a Konoha jounin," Kakashi said, with a quiet sigh. "We both know I could sell my talents on the black market quite easily. Somewhere within a few days' ride of here, I'm sure there's someone willing to pay good money to see someone else dead. But I didn't want my mistakes to be paid for with blood money. This way, I didn't hurt anyone, and no one even knew the difference, for the two hours it was on loan anyway..."

"I knew the difference. You should have too."

Kakashi sighed again, and snuggled closer, turning his talented hands to rubbing at the hollow of Iruka's back.

"I do know you, love," he said, "and your morals. I wouldn't do anything that I couldn't undo without talking to you first. I do promise that."

"And if you'd been caught?"

"Me? Caught by anyone in a hundred mile radius?"

Iruka sighed, and nodded against his shoulder. "Just don't do it again. Because I really would far rather work two or three jobs myself than try to raise a child alone while you're waiting for a release from prison."

"Fortunately, we don't have to worry about either one," Kakashi said lightly, fingers laced together around Iruka's waist. "Relax, okay? You're so uptight sometimes..."

"By comparison with you, a jellyfish is uptight," Iruka muttered.

"Jellyfish are uptight," Kakashi replied drolly. "Cranky little bastards. Lousy tempers, sting like a demon from hell if you even look at 'em funny..."

"The point here is finding a way to pay off our debt, not debating about the personality traits of jellyfish!"

Kakashi held up both hands, laughing. "Easy there! See, I told you you needed to relax-- no, don't hit me yet, you haven't even eaten your breakfast. There's some perfectly good donuts--"

"Which are about as far from nuitritious as it's possible to get and still call it edible--"

"--which is why you have the prenatal vitamins--"

"--which is why I have actual food in the refrigerator, you twit--"

"--which is just fine because that leaves more of the good stuff for me. And like I was about to say, just relax with your boringly healthy whatever it is you're planning to eat. We're both teachers. We're in the business of reshaping defenseless children's lives in ways that either mold them into their future selves or scar them permanently. Or both! Surely we can figure out something besides homicide and slacking that I'm actually good at."

Iruka sighed, and made himself a bowl of cereal, and sprinkled some blueberries on the top of it, and sat down and glared into his bowl.

Dammit, I want a donut and coffee...

He shook his head sharply, and made himself take a bite of cereal.

An educational challenge. I'm an educator. That's what I do. This is my chance to reeducate this infuriating scamp into...

...no, I'm not a miracle worker.

But I can be a guidance counselor. All the children at the academy want to become shinobi, but some of them never do; what would I say to one of those students...?

Iruka took a deep, steadying breath, and willed himself to calm.

Pretend he's just a teenager who's having difficulties finding his way.  All right. I'm helping a troubled teenager find a new path for his life. One that style='font-style:normal'>doesn't involve juvenile delinquency...

"So tell me," he said. "If you couldn't have been what you are -- what else would you like to have been? I know you were one of the youngest chuunin in history; one of the youngest jounin, too. Did you ever think that there was anything else you might like to do with your life? Anything other than being jounin?"

The part of Kakashi's face that was visible over the edge of the coffee mug looked thoughtful. Iruka took this as an encouraging sign.

"It doesn't have to be realistic," he said. "Just tell me what you dreamed about. What you thought you might have done if the world had moved differently. Anything that you love to do, anything that it makes you happy to think about being... anything that suits your vision as well as your talents."

Kakashi set down the coffee mug with a grin. "You're not going to like it. It's not very practical."

"We can be practical later; right now, I'd just like to know what your dream job would be. --Your other dream job, aside from being a jounin," Iruka clarified wryly.

"You really want me to answer this question?"

"How can we find something that's truly suited to you without finding out the characteristics of the types of work that really excite you? You're going to want a reason to get out of bed on time in the mornings, you know. For me, it's the light that catches in the children's eyes when they finally understand something -- that's why I listen to the alarm when it goes off; that's why I look forward to every new day. What motivates you like that?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Iruka nodded, putting on his best helpful-listening-teacher expression as he took another bite of cereal.

With a broad grin, Kakashi said, "I always wanted to be a porn star!"

Iruka choked, wheezed, and sprayed milk across the table.

"Think about it, though," Kakashi said gleefully. "Getting to have wildly creative sex all the time and getting paid for it? And smut sells, so they probably pay pretty well--"

The edge of the table cracked under Iruka's grip as he struggled to both breathe and calm the impulse to scream the roof down.

Don't kill him just yet. I did ask. My own fault for asking. I should have known better. Parameters. You've got to use parameters with him. Clarify this RIGHT away...

"What else do you think of as a dream job?" Iruka asked through gritted teeth, making an attempt at smiling.

"Well... I can't draw, but maybe I could write scripts for a hentai manga artist. Some of the plots in Icha Icha Paradise are getting kind of stale; I'm sure I could think of much more exotic ways to get two or three people naked and shagging each--"

"Try again," Iruka growled. "Better yet -- here." He stalked out of the kitchen, grabbed a handful of paper off the desk, and slapped them down on the kitchen table in front of Kakashi.

"Let's make ourselves a graph. Five columns. Name of job. What you like about it. What you don't like about it. Whether they're likely to have that sort of job here. And whether or not I'd break several of your bones and/or your neck for trying to get that job. How does that sound?"

Kakashi considered two or three responses, realized that the cast-iron skillet was still in easy reach in the dish drainer, and decided the best option was, "Yes, dear." He picked up a pencil, and added with just a hint of woeful puppy-eyed reproach, "But you did ask what I got excited about..."

Try as he might, Iruka just couldn't resist that expression. "...I'm sorry. I did tell you to talk about your dreams."

"Yes, you did.

"...I was just hoping that some of those dreams might be legal and not X-rated."

"Picky, picky." Kakashi tried the puppy eyes again. "Kiss and make up?"

Iruka pushed his bowl across the table, then walked around to sit in Kakashi's lap. He kissed his cheek gently, so as not to let them get too distracted from the task at hand; then he glared at his boringly virtuous cereal and picked up the spoon again.

"Taking up residence?" Even with both hands occupied, one with breakfast and the other with the pencil, Kakashi still made the way he rubbed his chest against Iruka's back into something very nearly illegal. Some people didn't even need hands to grope with.

Trying not to acknowledge the blush he felt heating his cheeks, Iruka replied, "Sanity-checking your answers to the fifth column."

"Hmm..." Kakashi took another bite of donut, and then kissed the curve of Iruka's throat. "...Yep, like I thought. You're sweeter. Take the clothes off so I can taste some more."

The blush redoubled itself. "You have got such a one-track mind...! Aim the tracks at the job hunting, all right? Just until we've got a better option than porn star, hentai manga artist, or--" he glanced at Kakashi's scribbles, and then yelped, "...or local crime boss?"

"I know a thing or two about keeping subordinates in line and enforcing things. And this town definitely has a vacancy in that area."

"That's because it's too small and peaceful to have mobs or street gangs!"

"Like I said, a definite vacancy..."

"...Which you are not going to fill by organizing the crime!"

"...Yes, yes, whatever..." Kakashi sighed and crossed it out. "All the legal ideas are no fun, though. And legal jobs never pay as well."

With a sigh, Iruka reminded him, "That's why they call it work, you know."

"...Oh. Yeah. Right."

.Normal {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} -->

Side Effects, Chapter 13

[author's note: where've I been? Working eighteen hours a day for the past month, thanks to the bloody ignorant virus writers having their badly spelled little insult-slinging duel in source code with each other. Had run out of prewritten just-needs-editables and didn't have time to sleep much, let alone write more... took a day off work just to recuperate... anyhow, if I vanish for a while, it's usually because work has eaten me alive, literally. Please don't ask why something's taking me so long, because I'd far rather have the free time to relax and write than be working insane overtime trying to clean up the damage from computer security disasters. ^^;; Anyway, on with the story...]

---

An hour later, there were about four very soggy cereal flakes left floating in some milk at the bottom of the bowl, donut crumbs all over several sheets of paper, and several more wadded-up-and-thrown-over-a-shoulder pieces of paper littering the floor.

Iruka had the pencil by now; Kakashi had gotten bored, and had invented a new game. His hands were curved playfully over Iruka's rounding belly, and although Kakashi barely twitched his fingers, the little flares of chakra were clearly quite noticeable to the baby. Every time he "touched" the baby with a little brush of energy, the baby started wriggling and rolling around; Iruka couldn't tell if it was through enthusiasm at someone to play with or misery at being tickled, but the end result was that it felt rather like there was an octopus swimming around in there.

 "...You're making me seasick, Kakashi. Come on. Pay attention. We can do this..."

There was an astonishing lurch inside, and Kakashi paused in his chakra-tickling to stare down over Iruka's shoulder towards his abdomen. "What was that?"

"A somersault, I think," Iruka said with a sigh. "Kakashi..."

"There's enough room for that?"

"There won't be for long," Iruka said. "Look, if you can't even pay attention long enough to make a good list, let's forget it. I can be a summer tutor or..."

Kakashi shook his head quickly. "I'm listening. I don't see what was wrong with 'used car salesman,' though. It's as close as it gets to 'lucrative underworld dealings in fraudulent goods with under-the-table bargains', but still on the sunny side of the law..."

"Look, let's try a different angle," Iruka said. "Let's start on the high end of the ethical scale and then work downwards if we have to. --You're good at teamwork, and good at leading teams, and good at defending things; why not think about something like being a policeman?"

Kakashi gave him a half-lidded look. "Laws. Regulations. Punctuality. Me. Remember?"

Iruka groaned, and buried his face in both hands. "...I'm not giving up. I'm just... regrouping..."

Kakashi brushed a gentle kiss against the curve of Iruka's throat, and rubbed a soothing pattern over the curve of his belly. "I could be a massage therapist," he offered. "With what we know about energy flow, I'd be a damn good massage therapist. I'd still get to run my hands all over naked people and turn them limp with sheer bliss, and it's perfectly legal..."

Iruka bit his lip, and then murmured, "You would be... very good at that."

Hearing the unspoken hesitation in his lover's voice, Kakashi coaxed, "But...?"

"It's a good idea."

"I know it's a good idea; I thought of it. So why do you sound upset? --Leaving aside the last fifteen ideas I came up with, that is."

"It's a very good idea," Iruka said, unhappily. "I'm sure you'd have pleasantly relaxed clients. It'd be good for them, and good for the village, and you could tell enough to know when to recommend someone go to visit a doctor--"

"It's not me you're trying to convince," Kakashi said wryly. "What's the problem?"

"...I'm... I'm... selfish..." Iruka gulped hard, and bent his head. "I... want your hands to be mine, I want to be the one you touch like that..."

First surprised and then delighted, Kakashi said, "Always happy to oblige. --Particularly happy any time you actually say out loud  that you want my hands on your body!"

"But I'm just being selfish--"

"You've got the right to be possessive of me if you like," Kakashi said. "Shall I demonstrate exactly how happy I am to hear it...?"

Iruka sighed, and kissed his fingertips to touch to the back of Kakashi's hand upon his stomach, and said, "After we have an idea we can work with."

"It's a date, then?"

Iruka nodded, with a rueful grin. "If it'll help motivate you? Of course it's a date."

Kakashi produced one of the most lasciviously insinuating grins Iruka had ever seen. "Score!"

...And he plucked the pencil out of Iruka's hands, grabbed a piece of paper, and started writing furiously, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

Iruka blinked in some astonishment at the paper. Kakashi had apparently taken the "start at the high end of the ethical scale" suggestion to heart, and was writing down everything that occurred to him, in approximately that order.

Priest, monk, mendicant healer, nun, hermit, hospital volunteer...

"...NUN?" Iruka echoed incredulously.

"You got pregnant, after all," Kakashi reminded him, still scribbling. "Cross-dressing is a piece of cake next to that--"

Iruka reached back and smacked him across the head. "You are NOT taking holy orders as an excuse to get into my pants!"

"But you said--"

"I said we needed to find a job that suited you," Iruka said. "And I would not take kindly to getting ourselves run out of town because the new priest decided he should take his sermons chapter and verse from Icha Icha Paradise, no matter how enlightening the contents might be!"

"Icha Icha Paradise makes magnificent sermon material," Kakashi said. "It's all about 'love your neighbor as yourself.' As many of the neighbors as possible, in fact!"

Iruka drove his elbow straight back into Kakashi's ribs. While he was choking and gasping over that, Iruka grabbed the pencil back, wadded up the latest set of scribbles, and threw it over his shoulder. Wheezing, Kakashi watched the paper fall with mournful eyes.

"You know... the world would be a... a much better place... if... if everyone had such an all-encompassing... love of humanity... as I've learned from Icha Icha Par-"

"Not when 'all-encompassing love of humanity' is just a translation for equal-opportunity pervert, you-- you--"

Iruka stopped himself short, leaning his face into both hands and blinking back tears of sheer frustration. "Never mind. I'll become a tutor. I'm sure some of the parents would be glad to have educational babysitting over the summer--"

"Easy, there," Kakashi murmured, cradling him close again; one hand cupped itself beneath the baby's curve to rub and cuddle, but the other was gently working the knots out of his shoulders. "Don't give up on me just yet."

"You were born to be what you are," Iruka said. "Which is an infuriating lecher and a precocious genius of a jounin. I'm not giving up on you; I'm giving up on making you into anything else. I shouldn't have tried in the first place..."

"However oddly sweet that is to hear, I do have a couple more ideas," Kakashi said, smiling.

Iruka glared over his shoulder. "If any of them involve sex, drugs, larceny, or passing yourself off for a virtuous moral paragon -- and particularly if any of them involve any combination of those -- you're sleeping on the floor for a week."

"You said yourself I'm good as a jounin," Kakashi said. "What do shinobi do for a living? Stealth, information gathering, and assassination. When you leave out the assassination part, what have you got left? A police detective or a private investigator. Leaving aside the police detective part because of the rules and regulations and such..."

Iruka was staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. Kakashi smiled again, unable to resist the temptation, and kissed him.

"...And I can do things like explaining to the bank what exactly is wrong with their security system with a hands-on lesson I'm sure they'll both take to heart and pay me for. And besides, if I'm a private investigator, I'm my own boss, which means I can sleep in as late as I like!" he added cheerfully. "So? What do you think?"

"That's brilliant," Iruka breathed. "That's absolutely brilliant. In a way, we've been doing it from the moment we arrived; you just didn't advertise the fact. So how do we quietly advertise an... er... 'expansion of the clientele'?" A moment later, he blinked, and then glared. "Precisely how long ago did you think of this anyway?"

Kakashi chuckled. "So suspicious...?"

"How long?"

"It was the first thing I thought of after you said 'policeman'. But massage therapist sounded like more fun. Besides, this way I even got you to promise me a horizontal tango!" Kakashi said, sounding far too proud of the results.

Iruka blinked again, several times. "...In other words, you were completely jerking my chain with the Icha Icha Paradise sermons and the cross-dressing nuns and...?"

"I still think Icha Icha Paradise would make magnificent inspirational and devotional material, of course," Kakashi said piously. "But yes, I've noticed you get quite a bit more uninhibited when I wind you up a little first. For example, you think of a lot more places to put your hands when you're not sure whether you want to be petting something or breaking something..."

"You perverse, manuipulative son of a-- You actually TRIED to--"

Iruka twisted around in Kakashi's lap, locked both hands around his throat, wrestled him over onto the kitchen table, and concentrated on knocking the back of Kakashi's head against the wood with every flex of his fingers. Kakashi's grin was quite an inducement to further violence -- but at the same time, Kakashi's fingers were...

"...Bastard!" Iruka had to let go of Kakashi's throat long enough to clutch at the pants that were sliding down the curve of his belly and hips. Unfortunately, that left his top undefended, and it all went downhill from there...

Most of an hour later, when Iruka had finally caught his breath again after their rather strenuous mutual exertion, he said, "You're washing the table..."

"I wasn't the one who tried to hit me over the head with your still-occupied cereal bowl," Kakashi observed sleepily, nuzzling his cheek into Iruka's slightly milk-sticky hair. "...Mmm. Blueberry..."

He reached over, fumbled a couple spare spilled blueberries off the table, dropped them into the curve of Iruka's ear, and started nibbling and licking; Iruka shrieked at the combination of cold-and-wet and hot-and-wet and far too much tickling.

"Aaaaaggh--! You -- you -- I'm going to take a bath--"

"Why bother? I'm perfectly happy to lick you clean!" Kakashi followed the offer with a demonstration.

With a wordless squeak compounded of embarrassment, alarm, and tickle-incoherence, Iruka slid off the table and picked up the milk-soggy pile of clothes on the floor and hurried upstairs.

Grinning to himself, Kakashi picked up the sugar bowl and followed on silent feet. It would, after all, be a criminal waste to let the shower get all the enjoyment from a milk-and-blueberry-sticky Iruka; Iruka might have sworn off extra sugar for the baby's sake, but Kakashi had no such reservations, and even if Iruka did make it as far as the shower, well, sugar stuck better to damp skin anyway...

Note to self, Kakashi thought. Get employed more often, if a person gets laid like that every time he thinks of a new career path... oh, yeah, and remember to buy more blueberries. Lots more blueberries...

Side Effects, Chapter 14 .Normal {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} -->

Side Effects, Chapter 14

And... mission complete.

Kakashi leapt down from the tree with a box containing his latest target; his client was overjoyed, and flung her arms around him.

"Thank you! Thank you so much..."

Now if she was about twice her age, I might appreciate this more. "Not a problem," Kakashi said, and ruffled the little girl's hair.

The girl plucked the box out of his hands, opened it up, and fastened a leash onto the collar of the indignantly squirming kitten inside, then scooped out the kitten and snuggled it close. "Don't you ever go chasing robins like that again, you hear me, Furball?"

"...Furball?" Kakashi echoed, one eyebrow arched.

"Well, she is," the child pointed out with impeccable logic, then looped the kitten's leash around her wrist and looked up at him soberly. "I need to pay you, don't I."

"Yep." He could have said no, of course; he'd been fairly - ahem - 'lucky' last night, 'investigating' a local gambling den, which was full of people who had no idea what a jounin's speed and reflexes were good for. But it wouldn't do for word to get around that he was a complete softie when it came to kids with lost pets... particularly since a lot of those had been coming to find him recently.

The little girl said, "Um... you're Iruka-sensei's husband, and Iruka-sensei's going to have a baby..."

"Yep."

The girl nodded, and with just a bit of reluctance, she took off her backpack and opened it up and brought out a soft, fluffy white stuffed bunny that had obviously been carefully washed and brushed with a new bow tied around its rather older bell.

"Here," she said, bravely. "Mr. Bun is for your baby. ...He's very soft. And he's good at keeping away the monsters under the bed... so... here."

Touched, Kakashi knelt in front of the little girl and ruffled Mr. Bun's ears. "Are you sure about this? I'd be just as happy with a couple gumballs, you know." Gumballs were his usual fee for retrieving lost kittens; he'd acquired a sizable collection of gumballs lately, and tended to use the surplus as bribes for extracting information from various pre-teens. (They also had an assortment of tactical applications, from weighting the noses of paper airplanes to holding explosives in place long enough to get away from the blast radius. Kakashi was nothing if not practical... for a certain distinctively skewed definition of practical.)

But the little girl said with determination, "I'm sure. I'm almost grown up now, you know. I... I can handle the bed monsters by myself... and the baby will need someone to look after it when the bed monsters come out, right? It's still pretty little. I mean, it hasn't even been born yet. That's really little. So the baby needs Mr. Bun more than I do. And... maybe... I can come visit Mr. Bun once in a while after school...?"

"I'm sure that would be fine," Kakashi said. "And if you change your mind later, the gumball offer still stands."

She nodded again, and gave her kitten another good snuggling despite an indignant little mew, and said, "Thank you again, Iruka-sensei's-husband sir."

Kakashi waved cheerfully as she headed down the street, amused despite himself. 'Iruka-sensei's-husband sir,' eh... well, I like the sound of that. But that would explain the sudden rash of preteens with lost pets who've come looking for me lately...

As the summer passed, the various villagers had gotten used to the idea of Kakashi as someone who knew things, someone to be asked about missing things and needed information, rather than someone who just wandered around eavesdropping and taking up space at the local ramen shop. And the bank had been quite appreciative of a couple of his demonstrations of their flaws in security.

And as a private investigator, he felt morally compelled -- Kakashi had recently realized that some carefully chosen moral compulsions made very convenient excuses when they were spun a certain way -- anyway, he was now officially morally compelled to 'investigate' the shadier areas of the village life every so often. Gambling dens and bars were naturally on that list.

The bar patrons had learned fairly quickly that there was nothing he couldn't do with a throwing dart and a dartboard; once in a while, when some poor uninitiated soul wandered into the place, both Kakashi and the regulars could make a fair amount of pocket money with bets about the dartboard.

The gamblers, though, hadn't picked up on Kakashi's talents yet. Kakashi had been quite careful to keep it that way, in fact. Because the secret to cheating well meant not winning all the time -- and in fact, strategically losing games was part of what kept him enthusiastically invited to a lot of their gambling nights, and therefore talked to about all kinds of subjects. Both of the aforementioned side effects were financially valuable, both as a pseudo-gambler and as a private investigator. Kakashi didn't classify himself as a gambler, of course; first, Iruka would have lectured him for a week, and second, it was hardly a gamble when he could control the outcome of any game he wished...

Kakashi had refined his theory of intelligent cheating over many years of practice. He brought a little money with him each week, and commiserated with the men about being on the wife's leash and getting lectured about family responsibility and the changes needed for the baby, and they groaned with him. Kakashi lost a few, won a few, lost a few more, and always ended up with a little more money than he came with -- specifically a little more money; never more than twice whatever amount he'd started the evening with. And he was careful almost never to take a large pot -- not unless there had been several large pots in the evening and others had won them first; and sometimes he had to nudge things to make sure he didn't win the first large pot of the evening.

The consensus among the gamblers was that Kakashi was a henpecked man with an entirely too virtuous wife and an unfortunate burden of responsibility caused by her pregnancy; anyone in that position naturally needed manly distractions from the surfeit of family purity in the rest of his world. He obviously didn't have that much luck or he'd never have gotten her pregnant in the first place; now that she was pregnant, of course, there was nothing to do but put up with it, and come and complain to the rest of the guys once or twice a week. His luck in gambling was considered as boringly average as his luck in his life; and nobody begrudged him winning a little bit, since it seemed like everyone won some and lost some, and Kakashi was never the biggest winner of any given night. (He was quite careful to manage that, too.)

So all in all, they provided him with a carefully managed and steady source of sideline income, a steady source of information, and the occasional beer on the house when the bartender felt too sorry for a man whose wife was such a paragon of all the sweet and pure family virtues.

"She's a pregnant grade school teacher, for the love of God," the bartender had said once, slipping a mug onto the table beside Kakashi's elbow. "It doesn't get any more disgustingly saintly than that, you poor bastard. Don't worry; whenever it gets too sugary to take it for an evening, we're right here for you, man."

And so, 'reassured' that he had the support of the local underworld in the effort to keep his soul suitably tarnished, Kakashi quietly arranged for the gamblers to subsidize his 'investigation' fees in cash, whether or not they quite realized that was what they were doing. He considered their 'informant' fees to be covered by the bets he helpfully redistributed in the direction of anyone whose tips had proven particularly valuable.

And he had the children pay in either gumballs or information. Hatake Kakashi was not a pushover. Not in any sense of the word.

...And the fact that he was walking down the street carrying a fluffy white stuffed bunny that jingled was no impediment to his dignity whatsoever.

Really. No, really.

He had no problem with walking around in public with the cutest bit of little-girly fluff anywhere in a twenty-mile radius, given to him to keep the bed monsters away from his still-unborn child... and anyone who did have a problem with him walking around with the aforementioned bit of fluff would get a swift and painful reeducation.

And besides, Iruka would like it. Iruka didn't have to be sheepish or embarrassed about whether or not he thought it was an extraordinarily sweet gesture from a little girl he barely knew, to offer their child what was clearly a well-loved toy. Iruka could be the sappily delighted one; Kakashi could just stand there and grin at Iruka's reaction; that would work just fine...

When Kakashi walked around the schoolhouse to take a look at the backyard, his first reflex was a quick head count: ...nine, ten, eleven, twelve... thirteen... fourteen, but that one looks like someone's babysitter... fifteen, sixteen... all right, looks accounted for.

Kakashi's summer job had taken them a lot of work and thought to discover. And Kakashi hadn't wanted Iruka to take a summer job, partially to let him rest while he could, and partially to salve his own pride about being able to be the responsible one for a little while. But even that very first Monday after school let out, Megumi and four of her friends had shown up with pencils in hand -- because it was Monday, Megumi informed them gravely -- and Iruka had realized that Monday meant 'the day of seeing how much the baby had grown' to some of his more sentimental students.

And so Iruka took them inside and made them tea, and they carefully traced the shape of the baby's growth on their wall chart, and sat down with their tea to talk. Megumi asked him whether cherry seeds were any good for getting babies from, because her mother said they were but her mother had only had one child so clearly she couldn't be a real authority, and Iruka tried to explain as much as he could about different types of seeds, and it somehow snowballed from there into Iruka spending two or three days a week with several of his schooltime students.

At first it was just called 'visiting,' because Iruka knew that Kakashi was feeling protective and underappreciated, but when the visiting started to become a regular occurrence, several of the mothers got together and argued Iruka into accepting babysitting and tutoring fees -- "honestly, it's a bargain for all of us; you'll have more of a nest egg for your baby, and we can pay you quite nicely while still spending less than we'd have to if every last one of us had to find our own babysitters; and if you feel that guilty you can buy them snacks or something. Here, just take the money and take them!" Megumi's mother had said.

So, every other day, they held summer school, and Iruka worked to find new and different things for his summer school students to do -- something unlike their regular schoolwork, but still educational. One day it might be visiting the bakery to see how Chidori-chan's favorite cookies were made, another day it might be a walk in the park to learn the names of the flowers, another day it might be playacting a bit of history, with the children playing some of their favorite heroes and heroines in the schoolyard. Chidori's elder sister Satori sometimes came to help Iruka ride herd on them in exchange for some of the tutoring fees; as the summer passed, and Iruka's final trimester grew near, their schoolteacher tired more easily, and was grateful for the opportunity to rest a bit in the afternoon.

Fifteen children were a few more than usual, but there was another girl about Satori's age romping with them; Satori looked up from her gaggle of midgets and waved at Kakashi, then let herself be dragged back into the game.

Iruka was curled up half napping in a hammock-like sling chair on the back porch, listening more than watching for anything untoward that needed a teacher's attention; in the relaxed unselfconsciousness of the nearly asleep, he'd managed to drag a floppy hat down over his face rather than atop his head, shading his eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Rather than sitting on the shaded end of the porch, though, he'd deliberately pulled the chair over to the sunny side; the sun's warmth was comforting, Iruka had told him rather shyly once. The baby liked being sun-warm, like a kitten, and the gentle warmth also helped relax and ease the stretched muscles of his gradually ripening belly.

Kakashi stood behind Iruka's chair and held the bunny upside down over his head, so that ear-shaped shadows crept over his face; Iruka made a drowsily perplexed sound, and pulled the hat off, and blinked up at the fluffy bunny face hovering over his.

"...That is unbelievably cute," Iruka said around a yawn, struggling a bit to sit up straighter in the shapeless fabric of the sling-chair. "Where on earth...?"

"Finder's fee for rescuing a kitten," Kakashi said, and plumped the bunny into Iruka's lap; it toppled over to rest against the curve of his abdomen. "His name is Mr. Bun, I'm told."

Iruka chuckled, and snuggled his cheek against the bunny's soft fur. "I thought you ordinarily got paid in gumballs?"

"She insisted," Kakashi said with a shrug. "He's reputed to be a fearsome vanquisher of bed monsters, and I have it on good authority that our baby will require a valiant bed-monster guardian like Mr. Bun here."

"I see..."

There was so much unbridled cuteness rampaging around that Kakashi couldn't help himself. He sat on his heels beside Iruka's chair and rubbed his fingertips lightly over the baby-fullness, 'tickling' the baby with a little flare of chakra, and asked, "How about it, you in there? Does Mr. Bun look fearsome enough for you?"

The baby pushed against Kakashi's fingers, almost like a puppy asking to play; smiling in delight, Iruka placed a tanned hand over his lover's paler one, and murmured, "She knows her father's touch."

"Of course he does," Kakashi replied, grinning. "I can make myself a tangible nuisance to anyone, anywhere, anytime."

Iruka rolled his eyes, and said to Mr. Bun, "I suppose that probably is the first thing you'll need to learn about life on duty in this household..."

Satori and her friend were trying to herd the squealing children inside for some lemonade and some rest; 'try' was, of course, the operative word, since several of them had spotted Mr. Bun and were producing shrieks of delight in such piercingly high voices that they approached the supersonic range. Iruka traded a rueful look with Kakashi, and began to struggle his way out of the comfortable but rather awkwardly deep sling-chair.

"Let's go inside with Satori-san and Emiko-san, and I'll introduce all of you to Mr. Bun with our lemonade, all right...?"

Kakashi slipped his arms around Iruka's growing waistline and lifted straight up, and Iruka yelped in astonishment as he found himself standing in Kakashi's embrace with Mr. Bun between them; Kakashi kissed his cheek pertly, because nobody could be expected to resist an opportunity like that, and so while Iruka blushed and stammered and clung to Mr. Bun for support, Kakashi flicked a hand at the giggling horde of midgets.

"Go on, inside, the lot of you."

In fairly short order, they fed and watered the herd and put them out to pasture for the day -- that was Kakashi's phrase; Iruka called it "an afternoon snack before sending the children home", and glared at Kakashi for his phrase, although Satori-san bit her lip to keep from laughing her appreciation too loudly. As she and her friend sat on the front porch to put their shoes back on, she smiled up at Iruka.

"If you'd like some extra help in the afternoons this fall too, Emiko and I are happy for some pocket money! This is pretty fun, as part time jobs go. You always think of things to do that get the kids all excited, Iruka-sensei."

Kakashi said helpfully, "I've thought of another adventure you can take them on, too. Paddling in the pond -- it's shallow this time of year, and it's hot enough that they'll like splashing around in the water."

"That sounds great!" Satori said, grinning. "A summer job that includes hanging out on the beach too? Count me in!"

"I'm sure they'll love that idea," Iruka agreed, smiling up at Kakashi. "We'll just need to make sure they bring swim-... oh." And his face fell immediately; but for Satori's sake he tried to brighten up again. "Bring swimsuits! And if you could bring another friend to help supervise-- I mean, I won't be able to go in with you..."

"Why not? Emiko asked.

Iruka tugged at the drape of his maternity blouse; despite the way it was designed to fall loosely from the shoulders and the bustline, concealing as much as possible, lately there was a slight bulge visible when it rested a certain way. "I... don't have anything to wear..."

"Ah, but you see, I've been thinking ahead!" Kakashi proclaimed, and pulled a bikini out of his pocket.

"...Kakashi!" Iruka gasped, absolutely scandalized.

Emiko giggled; Satori said, "You know, Iruka-sensei, he's got a point! No fabric in the middle to be too snug; a bikini's a great idea..."

Blushing bright crimson, Iruka stammered, "But... I... I'm... --I couldn't, I just couldn't..."

"Like I said, why not?" Emiko asked with a smile. "I'm sure it'd feel refreshing for you too, playing in the water with the kids -- August is so humid..."

Iruka buried his face in both hands, unable to explain any further.

With a rueful little sigh, Satori stood up and looked Iruka up and down, then reached over and patted the little bulge of the blouse, so that the fabric rested more closely against the baby-mound. "Don't be ashamed of your shape, Iruka-sensei," she said. "It's perfectly natural to be getting rounder now. The kids are delighted! You know they are. And they'll be terribly disappointed if you won't come in and play with them!"

"But..."

"Listen," Satori said. "All right, maybe a bikini's too embarrassing. I mean, I can understand some people are too shy for them even when they aren't pregnant. But you can wear a yukata over it or something, and come and splash around just like the rest of us. And the harvest festival is this weekend, and I'm expecting to see you there in a pretty dress, and not tugging at the front of it to try to hide your tummy! Understood?"

"But... I..." Iruka bit his lip, then looked away, and then murmured, "I understand; you're very kind and accepting, Satori-san. But..."

"Then it's settled!" Satori said happily. "Kakashi-san, should I come by tomorrow and help Iruka-sensei go shopping for a nice party dress?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Kakashi said, one arm around Iruka's hips to keep him from bolting for the stairs in shame. "See you then!"

After the girls had left, Iruka pulled away from Kakashi's arm quite sharply, shaking with frustrated humiliation. "...You did that in public, on purpose, so that I couldn't say no--"

"Of course I did," Kakashi replied lightly. "You flinch away from me whenever I tell you how sexy you are; I needed some character witnesses!"

"I'm nearly six months pregnant," Iruka said, tugging at the blouse again. "I'm not physically attractive right now and I know it, and I don't appreciate being maneuvered into flaunting my gracelessness in public--"

"You are attractive right now," Kakashi said. "And you'll be just as attractive when you're big enough to burst. If not more so, since there'll be more of you for me to drool over! Haven't you noticed how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you?"

Iruka turned away, one palm flat against the wall, and said in an undertone, "You're both an incorrigible lecher and biased on my behalf. And I wouldn't be surprised if you thought a telephone pole was attractive. Standing there naked all the time, you know..."

"Hmm, hadn't thought of that one," Kakashi mused, rubbing his chin. "I'll have to take a better look... --Iruka, love, don't pull away. I mean it. I swear to you, you're breathtaking like this. Pregnancy is one of the sexiest things on the planet."

Iruka struggled for a moment, caught between the certainty that he was walking into a trap and the sudden shamed need for reassurance that his body wasn't as repulsive as he feared. "Honestly...?" he whispered.

"Of course!" Kakashi said, all self-righteous confidence.

Iruka would have been much happier if he'd just left it there. Unfortunately, Kakashi felt the need to explain his reasoning.

"Pregnancy is obviously the sexiest thing a woman can do," Kakashi said. "Because pregnancy is absolute, inarguable, in-your face blatant proof that some lucky man has gotten himself laid!"

"Kakashi!"

"Tell me I'm wrong," he said, slipping both arms around Iruka's waist to smooth the gown beneath the curve of his belly. "Tell me a pregnant woman's belly doesn't scream 'I had sex!' to anyone with eyes."

"To me it says 'I'm having a child,' you pervert!"

"And the only way to get one of those is...?"

Iruka groaned aloud, struggling against the intimacy of Kakashi's touch, but his hold was both gentle and immovable. "Why does everything lead back to sex with you...?"

"Why have you become ashamed of the way your body is ripening with our child?" Kakashi replied, quite seriously. "You didn't tug at your dresses a month ago."

Iruka sighed. "It's... awkward, right now. I've gotten big enough that people can see that I'm heavy, but... not so big that it's unmistakably pregnancy, not yet... and... it's embarrassing, when I think about strangers looking at me and seeing... this; seeing that I'm so heavy, but not knowing for certain... I'm their  children's teacher, I want to be sure that I make a good impression, and when I'm not sure what impression I give them right now..."

"That's all?" Kakashi asked.

"What do you mean, that's all? Isn't that enough?"

"But you don't have to worry about not being big enough to notice," Kakashi said, mirth thick in his voice. "Trust me. Women gain most of the weight in the third trimester. You'll definitely get to be big enough to notice at a glance, I promise you that."

Iruka gulped a little, and said in a small voice, "I know. It'll be easier when I'm... more distended. When there's nothing else it could be; when anyone who looks at me knows immediately... --It's just that right now, it's... just an awkward stage... sort of halfway along; sometimes strangers stare at me in the village lately, trying to decide about the bulge, and I wish that either it didn't show at all or that it was obvious already..."

Kakashi considered for a moment, head tipped to one side. "Well, if you want some camouflage for a little longer, until you bulge some more -- you could always make those bigger," he suggested, nodding toward Iruka's chest.

"Don't be absurd."

"You were the one talking about making a good impression," Kakashi said, far too helpfully. "Those make great impressions on a lot of men. That's why Naruto came up with sexy-no-jutsu in the first place."

"Don't try to justify your perversion with Naruto's jutsu, either!" With a sigh, Iruka said, "Because I know he's very nearly as perverted as you are, and I shudder to think what he's been getting into with neither of us around to keep an eye on him for more than half a year already."

"Eight to one odds says he's been getting into Sasuke. Or Sasuke's been getting into him, one of the two," Kakashi said. "Although Sakura-chan might have had a thing or two to do about both of them..."

"You-- you-- auugh!"

Grinning, Kakashi let the back of his knuckles run down the hollow of Iruka's back at the place which always ached. "I notice you're not taking the bet. Come on upstairs. I want to show you something."

Reluctantly, Iruka followed Kakashi up to their room, and stood where Kakashi placed him in front of the mirror. With a sigh, Iruka tried to straighten the bow in the scarf he'd tied around the knot of his ponytail; somehow, he'd never mastered Sakura's art of making hair arrangements stay put.

Kakashi reached over and picked up the scarf's mate and a couple of clips, then busied himself with the back of Iruka's top, drawing the fabric snug at a certain point and clipping and tying it into place.

Iruka realized exactly how much the fabric was now stretched taut over both the cleavage and the top of the belly-bulge, and turned to give Kakashi a piece of his mind; Kakashi stilled him mid-turn with playful but firm hands on his hips, and said, "Look."

Despite himself, Iruka glanced sideways -- and then felt his face burning; with both the milk-heavy breasts and the rise of a swelling belly clearly limned by the fabric, he looked... pregnant. Clearly, noticeably pregnant, rather than just oddly bulging and overweight.

"...See, if we just put you in skin-tight stuff, everybody will know immediately -- or else like I said, the bikini shows off everything! Yep, I think you should definitely wear bikinis for the next three months--"

"Kakashi--"

"That and a sign which says 'Look but don't touch,' just so all the rest of the lechers wandering around this town know you're mine and all they can do is envy me," Kakashi said quite contentedly, rubbing a little circle below the dimple of Iruka's navel.

"Kakashi, you--"

"No need to thank me," he said grandly. "It takes a special set of eyes to see things like this."

Despite himself, Iruka felt a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "A special set of eyes well honed by years of practice at seeing everything as a potential sex object?"

"I'm still learning, of course," Kakashi replied. "It's a skill that takes a lifetime to truly master. But you've got remarkably good instincts yourself; I'd never thought of telephone poles that way. The symbolism is rather obvious, though--"

"That's enough, Kakashi," Iruka said. "The joke can stop there, thanks..."

"--No, seriously. Twenty-foot-high poles of hardwood sticking straight up all over every town in existence? And running the power supply of the country? How do people not see the symbolism in that? I'm ashamed to call myself a semiprofessional pervert, getting to be my age without noticing--"

"There are plenty of other reasons you could be ashamed to call yourself a semiprofessional pervert, you know," Iruka replied with half-lidded eyes.

"So we're agreed?" Kakashi asked, blithely ignoring that last comment.

Warily, Iruka said, "Agreed about what?"

"You'll wear the bikini and the sign--"

"Only in your dreams, you lech--"

"--or at least go to the swimming pond with the kids because you just know how devastated they'll be if you don't...?"

Struggling with himself, Iruka said, "I refuse to let you guilt-trip me about my students in order to get your kicks watching me in a bikini! For heaven's sake, what do I do if Satoshi-san and her friends ask me to come with them to a hot spring? They're girls, and I'm... well... pretending to be a woman, and there's no reason they'd suspect, and I can't explain, and--"

"What do you mean, what do you do? You go with them and thank the gods for the opportunity of a lifetime! The best time to take advantage of anybody is when they don't suspect a thing, of course! In fact, hell, that's an excellent idea by itself, now I almost wish I had studied when Naruto was teaching--"

Iruka drove an elbow straight back into Kakashi's stomach. "You even try it and I'll string you up by the toenails over a pit of fire ants and paint you with orange juice!"

"So the acid burns after the ants have crawled up to get at the sugar?" Kakashi asked from across the room, grinning as an elbowed pillow bounced to the floor. "That's quite creative. Who'd you first think it up for? Naruto or his little fan club?"

"That one's all for you, honey," Iruka growled.

"So anyway, you'll go to the pond in something, right? I'd hate to have to tie you up and drag you there kicking and screaming, you know. Not very good for the professional respectability, a scene like that."

"I'll go to the pond in something modest," Iruka said, arms crossed.

With a blissful sigh, Kakashi said, "You know, actually that's even better. So I can watch how the fabric changes texture and gets translucent and starts clinging to your body as the water slides over your--"

"Kakashi!"

Kakashi wagged a finger at him impishly. "Mustn't get yourself too riled up, you know. You've got to think of the baby--"

The pillow shot across the room and bounced off the wall half an inch from where his head used to be.

"--And you've got to save your strength for a long day of shopping tomorrow, too. Remember, you can't disappoint Satori-chan!"

"I'm going to get you for this," Iruka muttered.

"If you want to practice the orange juice painting tonight, I'm sure I can free some time in my schedule," Kakashi offered. "Of course, it'll lack a little something without the fire ants, but I'm sure I can provide suitable enticement for you to take a couple of nibbles of your own."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," Iruka agreed far too tranquilly. "In fact, I'm sure you already have." I wonder if human teeth can break the skin at the throat enough to get at the jugular vein, just for example...

Side Effects, Chapter 15 .Normal {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoBodyText {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; font-style:italic;} -->

Side Effects, Chapter 15

Somehow, Iruka thought to himself miserably as Satori brushed his hair on the evening of the harvest festival, this has turned out to be the most painful part of being a woman and pregnant. Not the backaches, not the tired feet, not the getting punched and kicked in places it shouldn't be possible to be punched and kicked... no, getting yourself declared 'ready' for a party is definitely the most painful part.

Iruka had never really cared that he wasn't an attractive person, not the way Kakashi and Sasuke were. They were both brilliant and gorgeous; some people envied them that. Iruka might have envied the brilliance, but since brilliance seemed to be tied to peculiar personality habits -- in Sasuke's case a profound aversion to human company and conversation, in Kakashi's case... well, too many peculiarities to list -- in any case, Iruka occasionally spent a wistful thought wondering what it would be like to be a genius, but all in all he was happier being just reasonably intelligent, boringly reliable, and at peace with himself.

He'd never spent a single thought wishing he were more attractive. It was enough to be aware that Kakashi appreciated him as he was, and that living under sexy-no-jutsu and growing heavy with pregnancy hadn't changed that. It was good to know that he wasn't repulsive to the one he loved. But beyond that, attractiveness for its own sake was never something he'd wanted. It had simply never occurred to him, until now.

It had never occurred to him that his lack of physical beauty was something to mourn, or to deny, or to camouflage. Not until he became a woman -- and even then, not until he became someone whom another woman was determined to make pretty -- and to make feel pretty.

Satori meant well. That was perhaps the most painful part of all. Satori thought that it was a crime that Iruka "lacked the self-esteem" to make himself pretty with makeup and hair and dresses and jewelry. And whenever Iruka tried to explain that he didn't mind not being pretty, Satori was completely horrified at him.

As though it was unthinkable that any woman could be truly at peace with herself if she wasn't pretty... and as though it was unthinkable that any woman didn't need to try to compensate for that lack.

Men didn't bother with this, Iruka thought, eyes closed against a tension headache caused by the mirror's reflection of Satori's fierce attention to his hair. Men didn't care if they were attractive or not. Attractiveness was just something that happened, or didn't, and didn't have much effect on their lives. Men got up, looked in the mirror to see if they felt like shaving, shaved if they felt like it, simply washed their faces if they didn't, and got on with life. It didn't matter if the face in the mirror was a particularly gorgeous or homely one. It was a face, it was there to keep your eyes from falling out, it did its job.

What he had learned from Satori was that women didn't do that. Women got up in the morning, looked at themselves, were disappointed with what they saw, and tried to change it.

Iruka had always been careful to hide his scar with makeup while he was being a woman, through a vague sense that women would care about things like that. And being a ninja, he knew a fair amount about camouflage. None of the students had ever guessed that his face was scarred. Neither had Satori.

Satori had cheerfully ordered Iruka to let her give him a fashion makeover. Iruka, who was quite aware that he didn't understand the intricacies of female self-decorations, had accepted with relief. And then somehow it had all gone wrong when she realized that his face was scarred and that he honestly didn't care beyond hiding it.

Somehow, the combination of Iruka's visibly scarred face and his quietly peaceful acceptance of the fact that he wasn't particularly good-looking had combined in Satori's mind into a shape Iruka had never expected.

Iruka had honestly thought that it was all right not to be attractive. That it wasn't anything he should be upset over. It was just a fact of his life; it wasn't any particular impairment, or anything he needed to compensate for. He'd been happy with himself, and hadn't needed to worry whether or not he was lacking anything.

Satori, on the other hand, was convinced that anyone who thought they weren't attractive and didn't try to disguise that with makeup and hairstyling had desperately crippled self-esteem and couldn't possibly be as at ease with it as Iruka claimed to be. And she was also convinced that the scar was the source of his crippled self-esteem, despite the fact that he clearly camouflaged it well enough that most people didn't guess. To Satori, his own awareness of his scar must have convinced him subconsciously that he couldn't be beautiful, and that that was a thought she was determined to remove from his mind whether he had a problem with it or not. The more he tried to reassure her that he didn't mind how he looked, the more upset she became about the idea that he should always like how he looked... as though the lack of a conscious awareness of personal beauty was almost as severe as the lack of a hand or foot.

So Satori had been terribly upset, and had tried her best to make him beautiful... and for some inexplicable reason, Iruka couldn't seem to make himself stop hurting because of it.

Kakashi hadn't understood at all, of course.

"Obviously it was traumatic," he'd chuckled, flipping another page in that perverted guide book to the pleasure points of pregnant women's bodies. "Any time women get the clothes-shopping gene triggered, the results are never pretty. But the worst of it's over, right? You've bought the dress, she'll have her way with your face and your hair for the party whether you like it or not; the safest thing to do is just shut up and nod and try not to think about it. More importantly -- come over here, I want to try out page 86 on you!"

"Kakashi--"

"Yeah, I'd like to show you page 133, but you aren't going to be big enough for that for a while yet."

"Kakashi!"

"The problem is that Satori-chan thinks you're having self-esteem problems, right?"

He was bizarrely right and wrong at the same time, and Iruka couldn't think of a way to try to explain it, when he wasn't even sure he understood it himself. But Kakashi took a second's silence for agreement, and patted the futon with a very come-hither grin.

"No better cure for self-esteem than having someone demonstrate to you exactly how sexy you are, you know..."

And so Iruka had let himself be lost in Kakashi's straightforward and uncomplicated appreciation of his body... and afterwards, curled up on his side, he'd spent almost an hour trying not to cry.

It was stupid. That was the most frustrating part of it. He should have been able to laugh and shrug it off and go back to being happy with himself. But Iruka had never before had the experience of being told that he was damaged and pitiable because of a flaw he hadn't realized he was supposed to feel badly about having.

Especially not when he was supposed to feel badly about something so shallow and uncontrollable as the face he was born with...

The bitterly ironic part, Iruka thought to himself with a sour grin, was that he hadn't had a self-esteem problem until Satori had taken it upon herself to improve his self-esteem...

Do all women live like this? Are they all taught to look in the mirror and be disappointed and have to change things before they consider themselves fit for being seen?

It hurt. It hurt to look in the mirror and remember that he was supposed to want to change more than the scar. That he was supposed to be dissatisfied with anything other than painted perfection. Iruka didn't know how it could possibly have helped anyone's self-esteem to be taught that their face had to be changed and redesigned before it was presentable to the world. To be taught that "special occasions" meant more time painting and changing than usual, and that the prettiest faces were the ones most carefully changed from what they had been to start with...

It hurt, and it made him angry. Thinking that maybe that was why Sakura-kun had been so anxious to have time to do her face and hair no matter what the mission they were on. Thinking that maybe the child so peacefully resting beneath his heart would be taught to hate her own face, if it looked too much like his...

When Satori realized that there were tears running down Iruka's face, she dropped her brush in shock. "Iruka-sensei? Iruka-sensei, what's wrong...?"

Iruka shook his head, face buried in both hands, unable to come up with a coherent answer.

Everything. Nothing. The fact that this is how a woman's world is -- everything is wrong, and yet you won't even understand what I'm saying if I try to explain; I've run out of words for you, you can't even hear me when I say that it shouldn't have to be like this...

Frantic, Satori ran toward the stairs and called down. "Kakashi-san? Kakashi-san, it's Iruka-sensei -- she's crying, I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what I did but--"

Mercifully, Kakashi didn't decide that this was an occasion for teasing therapy or lecher therapy. He was there in three seconds flat, and he quietly gathered Iruka into his arms and let him cry; Satori, however, was still in a frantic state.

"I don't know what to do," she said, on the verge of tears herself. "I'm so sorry -- I want Iruka-sensei to understand that it's all right to let herself be pretty, that it's all right to want to be pretty -- that the scar isn't that noticeable with the makeup, that it's all right to be rounding -- that she's prettier than she thinks she is, that she really can be completely beautiful if she wants to be -- I just... no matter what I say, it's like she can't hear what I mean..."

Iruka's hands knotted convulsively in the fabric of Kakashi's shirt; Kakashi stroked his loose, rumpled hair smooth with a gentle hand, still quietly listening even to his wordless sobs.

"Kakashi-san?" Satori asked, miserable. "Should I just go? I don't know why, but I always seem to upset Iruka-sensei... the scar doesn't matter, she's pretty enough to start with, but I don't know how to help her see that..."

"Why don't you go make some tea, Satori-chan?" Kakashi suggested, still stroking Iruka's hair. "Gives everyone a chance to calm down, gives me a chance to kiss my wife breathless, sounds like a good arrangement all around..."

Sniffling a little, Satori nodded at him vigorously. "I'll be right back," she said. "Make sure you do a really good job with your part too, Kakashi-san, because she needs to know how beautiful she is to you!"

"Oh, I think I can arrange that," Kakashi said wryly. "Hear that, love? I'm now under official orders to kiss you silly! Isn't this a wonderful day to be alive?" He bent his head and tenderly kissed the tear-tracks from Iruka's cheeks, then gathered him into his arms and settled them both on the floor and rocked him back and forth softly, waiting again for Iruka's tears to ease.

When the worst of the storm had passed, and Iruka was sitting huddled against him for comfort but no longer sobbing so desperately that he could barely breathe, Kakashi kissed his cheek again, and let one light hand wander over the curve of his belly to feel for any unexpected knotting or tension.

"No pains, I hope...?"

Iruka shook his head a little, still trembling with grief. "I'm... I'm just... pathetic..."

"You're not pathetic," Kakashi said, "and ordinarily we both know it. What's really wrong?"

To his disgust, that started the tears welling into his eyes again. "Why... why can't I... be good enough? Why does she have to change everything about my face and my hair and... everything...? I never used to think I was ugly, but... why can't I be good enough as I am...? If I were really... a woman, if I'd been one all my life, people would already have taught me that my face was... unacceptable, not to be shown the way it is -- what about the baby...? If she's a girl, and if she takes after me... I couldn't forgive myself--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Kakashi said hastily, holding Iruka even closer. "What do you mean, what if the baby takes after you? I pray every morning that the kid does take after you! Because I know how much of a little hellspawn I was to deal with, and I don't wish a repeat of that on anybody-- and there's not a damn thing wrong with your face! Who told you there was?"

"I... I thought it was good enough... just hiding the scar, but Satoshi-san says I have to do more than that, and... I... I didn't care, before, but..."

"Don't let her upset you," Kakashi murmured. "She thinks she's trying to help, being all girly and fashion-mad at you. Girls just do that sometimes, it's like a compulsion..."

"But what if she's right about me?" Iruka whispered, blinking at tears again. " I didn't used to mind what I looked like... but... what if the baby takes after me? I don't want our baby to feel like she has to hide her face like this all the time, just because I'm... not attractive..."

Kakashi was staring at him, with his jaw hanging open.

Miserable, Iruka shut his eyes against the reflection of the two of them in the mirror. "I never used to mind," he choked. "I didn't care that I wasn't good-looking. I still wouldn't care if it was just me. But... it's not fair to the baby... I mean... I'm as common as dirt. Brown face, brown hair, brown eyes, brown everything, dull and plain and homely as a clod of mud scraped off someone's shoe, and it didn't matter until now... nobody had ever told me I needed to change myself..."

A collection of ceramics rattled alarmingly in the doorway; Satori was standing there white as a sheet, and the tea tray was slipping out of her hands.

Kakashi was across the room to rescue it in less than an eyeblink; with the tray balanced on one hand, he grabbed her elbow with the other, and more than half dragged her into the room. Iruka flinched and looked away; Satori gasped, and pulled away from Kakashi's hand in order to run across the room and fling both arms around Iruka.

"I wasn't saying you needed to change yourself!" Satori wailed. "I was trying and trying to come up with something in the mirror that would make you smile -- because you always said you didn't like yourself as you were--"

"I said I didn't mind being who I was," Iruka murmured, face turned away. "I didn't. I didn't mind being plain -- until now--"

"Who ever told you you were plain?" Kakashi growled.

"That's what I've been asking!" Satori said. "She's got absolutely beautiful hair, I wish mine were that soft and thick, and half a dozen people around the village would kill for a tan like that too, and I've been trying to show it off, instead of just hiding her scar and pulling all that gorgeous hair up into a cockeyed ponytail -- I wanted to show her off to herself, so she could see that she was gorgeous--"

"All I saw was that nothing I was doing was right," Iruka whispered, with a cracked half-laugh.

"No, Iruka-sensei," Satori said, caught halfway between exasperation and guilt. "What you were doing said that you didn't care what you looked like. And then you said you didn't like what you looked like-- didn't like, didn't mind, whatever-- so I thought I'd just teach you some of the other things you can do with what you already have! Didn't your mother play with your hair when you were little? If I were your mother I couldn't have resisted..."

Kakashi sighed deeply, and sat down and put an arm around each of them. "Satori-chan, let's back up a little here. For one thing... Iruka was orphaned, very young..."

Satori's eyes widened, and then began to glitter a little too bright with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-- I didn't mean to--"

Iruka shook his head a little, staring down at nothing. "It's all right. There's no way you could have known."

"So... you didn't have anyone to teach you...? Anyone at all...?"

"About makeup and hair-arranging? No," Iruka said, feeling guilty about the careful spin on the truth. It wasn't actually a lie, it just wasn't all of the relevant information... with a sheepish half-chuckle, he added, "I hadn't realized it was supposed to be that important."

"Of course it is!" Satori said.

"Of course it's not," Kakashi said wryly. "It's not important enough to cry over. Satori-chan, I know you mean well, but Iruka is one of the most honest and straightforward souls you're ever going to meet in your life. If she says she doesn't care what her hair looks like, then she means she doesn't care what her hair looks like. She doesn't mean 'I do care but I'm embarrassed about myself' or 'I don't have enough self-esteem to do anything else' or anything like that. She just means 'as long as my hair's not getting in my face I'm happy with it.' She's practically like a man some days," he added with a gleeful grin that Iruka had to fight to keep from knocking off his face. "And if Iruka's happy with herself, then so am I. Understand?"

Satori blinked quite a few times, in a clear case of mental gastrointestinal distress. Once her brain had managed to digest the information somehow, she asked Iruka very, very carefully, "Is he serious?"

"Perfectly," Iruka said, trying to keep his expression neutral. He's just as serious as I was the last eighteen times I said I didn't mind looking like myself... --never mind, it must be a conditioning thing. If you're taught you have to be attractive and you have to repaint your face and reupholster your head in order to try to be attractive if you're not, then of course it's going to be hard to hear someone saying something else... the poor girl...

Looking absolutely wilted, Satori said in a very tiny voice, "Iruka-sensei, you really don't care at all...?"

Feeling somehow guilty, Iruka said in an odd kind of half-apology, "I really don't. But I suppose I could try to learn how to care..."

"No you don't," Kakashi said quite firmly. "I liked you much better when you were happy waking up in the morning and looking at yourself. I miss that you. I want to see that Iruka in the mornings again. So whatever it takes for you to be happy with yourself, that's what I want you to do -- not spending more time worrying over whether you're not doing what you ought to be doing about something. Got it?"

With a rueful smile, Iruka nodded, and reached up to twine his fingers through Kakashi's. "I'm sorry, Satori-san," he said. "It's just that I'd rather still recognize myself when I look at a mirror."

Crestfallen, the girl said in a tiny voice, "I suppose that means you won't want the kanzashi set either...?"

"Kanzashi?"

"I... I thought... they'd look nice in your hair... but if you don't want anything like that..."

"If you want to play with my hair, that's all right," Iruka said, a little sheepishly trying to find a middle ground between pleasing Satori and being able to live with himself. "I just... I want to recognize my face when you're done with it, if you don't mind...?"

"'If I don't mind?!' Iruka-sensei, it's not about--" Satori stopped, threw her hands in the air, and unexpectedly started to giggle. "All right. I promise. But when I'm done, you're doing my hair, got it?"

Iruka blinked, startled. "But... I... I don't know how..."

"So I'll teach you! Emiko taught me the most adorable set of braids that she loops up with a ribbon that gets turned into a flower, you'll love it, and it's hard to do it on yourself, elbows just don't bend that direction! So that's why you've always got to have a girlfriend handy to help you do your hair the way you like..."

"Crisis all done?" Kakashi asked, already reaching into his pocket for a book. Iruka's eyes widened in shock, and he all but bodily threw Kakashi out of the room.

"If you're going to read that, do it somewhere else!"

"Read what?" Satori asked.

Blushing bright crimson, Iruka stuttered, "He... it... there's this... series... he... --Never mind, it's not great literature. At all. Practically the opposite in fact..."

Satori giggled. "Kakashi-san reads romance books? That's so cute!"

Iruka buried his face in both hands with a groan.

With a wickedly self-satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his lips, Kakashi said, "You see, love? Literary passion binds all the world! Across the barriers of space, time, and gender -- particularly gender, in fact-- quite a lot of bindings across several genders sometimes--"

"Get out!" Iruka shouted.

"Yes, dear." And the door closed behind his Cheshire-cat grin as he walked whistling down the hall; the rustle of book pages was already audible.

Satori's mouth was hanging open; she turned to Iruka, about to ask a question, and he hastily shoved the brush back into her hand.

"Hair," he said desperately. "Fiddling with it. Lots of, uh, fiddling. I'm going to need practice to get yours right, after all -- we should, er, concentrate on.... fiddling with hair... and... girly stuff like that... right...?"

Satori giggled. "Iruka-sensei, Kakashi-san's right; sometimes you do sound just like a man! All right, don't worry about a thing; you sit right there and rest, and I'm going to teach you all about the 'girly stuff like that.'"

You know, God, I've tried to be a good person, Iruka thought in weary resignation. I've tried to keep an eye on Naruto as well as anyone could. I've tried to teach my students as well as I'm able to. I've tried to keep Kakashi on a leash AND not let it be one of his kinds of leashes...

I thought I was doing fairly well... as well as could be expected, given the circumstances... so I just have to ask one thing.  How did I end up in hell while I'm still breathing...?

Fate is such a bitch...

---

quick note: Kanzashi are the decorative pins and bells and jingles and etc. that are used in sets as traditional Japanese hair arrangements. Sometimes they're single items, but sometimes three, five, or more pieces are designed to be used as a group.

Chibi-Kakashi (with an evil grin): And some of them are sharp and pointy enough to make great weaponry too! Maybe I should get Naruto to actually teach me... between the homicidal hair rigging and the easy admission to the women's baths...

*crunchGYAAAHthudcrashrattle... clanganganganggg... thump*

Chibi-Iruka (dusting hands off): Or maybe you shouldn't, honey. Places like that can be verrry dangerous to your health, you know. Particularly when you've been seen in one...

Chibi-Kakashi (watching the birdies go chirp chirp chirp around his head): ...yes dear...

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Side Effects, Chapter 16 (Sap alert level orange: High glucose levels to commence in T-10 and counting)

(ChibiRisu-chan does the dance of joy) Thank you thank you thank you! In the past one month, this story's gotten 10,000 hits - that's over ten times as many as anything else I've written - and over 100 comments, which is twice as much as anything else... I'm still amazed people like it, honestly, but I'm soooooo glad you do! ::happy squirrel glomps all her reviewers::

Sooooo... I've got a special treat lined up for this chapter! (Actually I'd been planning to do this at this point in the story all along, but it sounds better if I call it a special treat, right? ^_~)

Chibi-Kakashi (half-lidded eye glowering): Hey now. That's my kind of excuse. (Suddenly with the ear to ear grin:) I'm so proud! (hearts and flowers, rhapsodical sigh) The days when I realize how I've corrupted another previously moral-bound soul are the days I'm happiest to be alive...

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Side Effects, Chapter 17

Chibi-Naruto (groovin'): Go me! Go me! I'm a special treat! Go me! Oh yeah...

Chibi-Sakura: As if. Now, if it was Sasuke-kun, then that would've been a special treat...

Chibi-Sasuke (practicing the Chibi Glare of Death on a tree that seems distinctly unimpressed): ...

Chibi-Sakura: See? Wasn't that totally cute?

(Chibi-Sasuke tries the Chibi Glare of Death again. The fundamental problem with this, of course, is that chibi eyes are just too darn cute to petrify anything properly. Chibi-Sasuke is somewhat distressed by this, but tries not to let it show.)

Chibi-Sasuke (petulant): ...

Chibi-Sakura: Awww~~ isn't that just adorable?

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Side Effects, Chapter 18

The more he saw of how a woman's world worked, Iruka thought with a mouthful of ramen, the more bewildered he became.

They'd encountered Satori and her boyfriend on the way back from the pond; Iruka had made hasty introductions, and Kakashi had helpfully kept a hand over Naruto's mouth, and the meeting between the two girls was truly astounding to watch, somewhere between a quick-draw death match and a ritualized flower-arranging: a precisely calculated spate of aggressive civility that took place in under three seconds...

The girls took one look at each other, and their eyes changed, and Satori latched onto her boyfriend's elbow at the same moment that Sakura latched onto Sasuke's -- and then they noticed each other's reflexive marks of possession on someone who was not their own object of desire, and they blinked at each other, and something mentally recalibrated in perfect unison.

And then, three seconds later, they were chattering away as though they'd been best friends for years, with Sakura complimenting Satori on her taste, particularly for 'helping' with Iruka's dress and hair, and Satori complimenting Sakura on her own fashion sense, and asking about each other's favorite shops in their villages, and Satori happily offering to show Sakura her favorite places to go for dresses and ice cream and hair ribbons, and... it was enough to give a grown man shaking chills.

So Iruka just kept staring down at the table, gazing into the bowl of ramen as though it were some sort of prophetic mirror of wisdom, hoping that whatever silent duel had just taken place, it had led to an armistice which would actually last.

Sasuke was staring down into his ramen too, without even bothering to eat it.

With a silent sigh, Iruka fumbled under the table for Kakashi's hand, and held it just for comfort; Kakashi glanced over at him, followed the direction of his anxious gaze, and smiled behind the turtleneck.

With one fingertip, he traced a combination of scout's shorthand and kanji into Iruka's palm.

Don't worry, OK?

Iruka replied, What's wrong with him?

What's NOT wrong with him?

I'm serious.

Me too.

Irritated, Iruka pulled his hand away, and turned his attention to the source. "Sasuke-kun, what's bothering you?"

The boy's lips tightened a bit; he didn't reply. Instead, he picked up a pair of chopsticks, making a visible effort to stir the ramen around, but it was obvious he couldn't bring himself to lift it to his mouth even for the purpose of avoiding conversation.

Naruto, who had been regaling Satori's somewhat glassy-eyed boyfriend with tales of the bear whose ass he'd kicked, shifted gears midstream to glare at Sasuke again. "Bastard, quit being rude to Iruka-sensei!"

Hastily, Iruka reached to catch Naruto's hands before the kunai could put in an appearance. "It's all right, Naruto," he said. "Maybe he's just tired. It's all right. --Don't let your ramen get cold; it's delicious, isn't it?"

With another glare Sasuke-wards, Naruto sat back down and started grumbling his way through a mouthful of ramen. Sakura, clearly distressed, glanced at Sasuke and then traded a silently pleading look with Iruka; Iruka shrugged a little, feeling oddly helpless, and struggled to gather the nerve to try again.

After a moment's hesitation, he leaned across the table toward Sasuke a little so that he could speak more softly. "Sasuke... did you know about the two of us...?"

Sasuke didn't repond, his face even more tightly shuttered than usual.

Iruka closed his eyes for a moment, placing himself in the position of a sensitive, troubled, and brittle young man who might just now have realized that two of his most respected teachers had been conducting a secret love affair for years -- and who had also just been presented with completely undeniable proof that they were sexually as well as emotionally involved with each other. Moreover, there was no way for the boy to have braced himself in advance for that type of proof, given that he'd known that both of his teachers were male -- and yet, the impossible, unbelievable evidence sat right across the table, dressed in a now-visibly-bulging maternity gown...

No, the mental picture was not pretty at all.

Carefully, trying not to think about how much every word hurt like a knife to the chest, he murmured, "Sasuke, I... I think I can see... why you could be upset. But if you won't talk, how can I help? I do understand... why you might be offended, or... revolted..."

Sasuke pushed himself away from the table sharply, and turned for the door.

Wide-eyed, Sakura said, "Sasuke-kun--"

"Sit back down, loser!" Naruto growled. "You're acting like a total dick and you're wasting ramen! RAMEN!"

"I'm not hungry," Sasuke muttered, and stalked out through the noren curtains at the front of the little shop.

Naruto's jaw dropped open. "Get your cocky ass back here so I can kick it up between your ears, punk! Just you wait--! --hmm. 'Wait...' wait... what was I waiting for...? Oh yeah, the ramen! Just a sec, I'll kick your ass soon as I'm done here--"

He slurped up the contents of Sasuke's bowl in five seconds flat, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and shoved his chair back too. "All right, now you're in for it!"

"I'm sorry, I've got to go with him," Sakura said franticallly to Satori and her bemused boyfriend, standing up to follow. "The problem is Naruto's a brain-damaged pathological liar, you see--"

Naruto froze in the middle of the shop, torn between chasing down Sasuke and arguing the unbelievably insulting description. Caught between the pull of those conflicting desires, he only managed a couple wordless squawks of indignation.

"...So if he starts rambling about being a high-class ninja or getting eaten by a cobra or this boy who walks in and out of ice somehow, or Iruka-sensei being a man in disguise and Sasuke-kun being a woman, or -- or summoning giant pink-and-lavender-colored toads--"

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto protested, in betrayed outrage. "I summoned a giant red toad! RED! Pink and purple are way too girly-looking!"

"You see?" Sakura asked Satori and her boyfriend, grabbing Naruto by the ear and dragging him toward the front of the shop with a sickly grin on her face. "So that's why I've got to keep an eye on him. I'll talk to you later, 'kay? Bye--"

Satori and her boyfriend stared at each other, then at Iruka and Kakashi, and then down at Kakashi's ramen bowl, which he'd emptied in the three seconds they were staring at each other rather than at him.

"Er," Iruka managed, rather intelligently given the circumstances. "It's... complicated."

"They're teenagers," Kakashi supplied helpfully. "That's always complicated."

"Dude," Satori's boyfriend said, "what's with the turtleneck, er, thing?"

"Oh, that's how I got Naruto-kun fixated on the idea that I'm a ninja," Kakashi said. He pulled the turtleneck back down, and added rather sheepishly, "He's fun to tease. Old habits die hard."

A little faint, Iruka said, "Naruto's not... he's really... not that bad..."

Satori and her boyfriend nodded in perfect unison, but they still paid for their ramen and made a beeline for the other exit with astonishing speed.

Leaning back to stretch both arms over his head, Kakashi said, "Remind me to commend Sakura on that one. That was an amazing level of quick thinking under fire."

"She called him a brain-damaged pathological liar!"

"Can you think of a better way to explain half the things he says, without blowing our cover?" he murmured, with a grin.

Try as he might, Iruka simply couldn't come up with another even halfway plausible alternative. "...Poor Naruto."

"He'll survive. He's good at that."

"And Sasuke's not," Iruka murmured. "Poor Sasuke..."

"Don't waste too much sympathy on him," Kakashi said, munching on a stray piece of seaweed left in his bowl. "He has an allergic reaction to sympathy."

"But... I do understand why he'd be revolted by... by my condition, by what's happening to me..."

"No, you don't understand, and you're not even close," Kakashi retorted, dryly. "You've spent too many years around Naruto and his complete lack of anything resembling a filter between brain and mouth. Whatever you think you've guessed about why Sasuke's upset -- believe me, you're completely wrong."

"And you know better?"

"When it comes to Sasuke, yes. Just like you know better when it comes to Naruto."

Iruka sighed and slumped against the table, rubbing his temples against a tension-headache. "So what is Sasuke's problem...?"

"Where do I start the list, and how many hours have you got to listen?" Kakashi moved Iruka's hand to brush a kiss against his temple, lightly, and then shifted to toss money onto the table and stand. "Come on, let's go catch up before we have another set of property-damage bills to add to the debt collection."

Iruka paled, and scrambled to his feet to join him. "Do you want to talk to Sasuke, and let me talk to the other two?"

"Actually, no. The exact opposite of that, in fact," Kakashi said.

Iruka blinked up at him. "But... you understand him better than I do..."

"Yes, and that's precisely why," Kakashi said.

"Wait. What? Kakashi--"

"Are you coming or not?" he asked, and brushed aside the noren curtain to step through.

Iruka caught his breath, startled. "Kakashi-- the turtleneck--"

"They're going to have to see my face some time," he said with a lazy shrug.

"But... I mean... I know it's been... important to them, important to you... are you sure you want to do it like this? Just walking up to them in the street, like nothing had changed...?"

Kakashi rubbed his chin for a minute, then nodded cheerfully. "Yep! Because I guarantee 'just walking up to them in the street' is the one and only possibility for unmasking me that none of them ever thought of!"

Iruka put a hand to his temples again. "...I suppose it does make a certain impossible logic, doesn't it? When you're dealing with a mind that gets even more crooked than a corkscrew, sooner or later, you eventually twist around to the ultimate in devious calculation -- which ends up indistinguishable from being completely straightforward."

"And that always makes it even more of a shock to your victims," Kakashi agreed, smiling. "See? You're starting to think around corners too."

"But you think around corners that don't even exist!"

"So do sailboats. They never travel a straight line, but they still get to where they're going by traveling back and forth at angles across the shortest route they can take," Kakashi said. "I get to where I need to be too. I just don't keep track of how many times I have to twist and turn things in order to get there."

"...That explains a staggering amount about your approach to punctuality, you know."

"I am nothing if not consistent in my unpredictability." Kakashi bent to brush a kiss against his cheek, then took his hand and led him toward the street the teenagers had taken; Iruka struggled almost despite himself, trying to pull his hand away.

"Sasuke--"

"No, I will not stop holding your hand just to appease a touchy angst-and-hormone-ridden teenager. Sasuke and his little attitude problem are about to come down with a serious case of us," Kakashi said, quite soberly. "And since I know we're the best thing that's happened to him since his family died, he's just going to have to learn to live with a serious case of us."

Then, as inevitable as the sunrise, both his eye and his lips curved into a mischievous grin: "And lucky you, you get to go first! You're the perfect torture for him all by yourself. Because he isn't going to have a clue what hit him, and I still haven't forgiven him no matter how much I understand why."

Truly alarmed, Iruka pulled harder -- but Kakashi wasn't letting go. "Kakashi, he doesn't need to be hurt any more than he already has been--"

"Which is why I'm about to fling you at him," Kakashi replied smugly. "You'll make him absolutely miserable without hurting him in any way. If it were me, I know I couldn't resist puncturing his ego right along with setting him straight about the way the world works! You'll do fine--"

"But I don't know what to do! Not with Sasuke--"

"That's why you'll do fine--"

There was a distressingly familiar shriek of Sakura-frustration from further down the street, followed much too quickly by the sound of something heavy splintering something wooden and fairly thin, most likely a wall...

Iruka took off running, silently thanking the heavens that the boys had put in their first appearance while he wasn't yet too child-heavy to run a block or two, and dragging an unhelpfully laughing Kakashi along with him.

By the time they tracked down the source of the commotion, Iruka was gasping for breath around the combination of the baby's unhappy kicks at the jostling and the heart-pounding, light-headed effects of sheer panic: if it's one of the festival stalls I can make excuses somehow, but if it's an actual building -- I don't know what I'm going to do if it's an actual building; damn it, these people are just not accustomed to overexcitable ninja students; what am I going to--

"Hah! See, I told you so!"

"...Hmph."

Sakura translated from Sasuke-ese with the familiarity of long practice. "Naruto, you moron, you're supposed to throw the beanbag through one of the holes that's already there! NOT through the board itself!"

...Sure enough, a toss-the-beanbag game vendor was staring in slack-jawed astonishment at his previously normal-looking painted-clown board. But now, instead of having holes for the eyes and the mouth, there was another hole smack in the middle of the forehead, and splinters everywhere, giving the unfortunate impression of a messily slaughtered ex-clown...

Naruto looked back and forth between the board and the fuming Sakura. "...No way! That'd be too easy. It's a lot harder to get enough momentum behind a beanbag to splinter wood; it'd practically be cheating to use a hole that was already there!"

Sakura had one hand fisted at her hip and the other knotted in her hair to keep herself from strangling her teammate. "This is a kids' game, idiot! For LITTLE KIDS!"

Naruto looked at the gawking game vendor with suspicion in his eyes. "Hey, mister... is that all there is to it? Seriously? Talk about lame--"

Iruka's knees simply weren't going to hold him any further; he crumpled toward the ground, and Kakashi caught him hastily.

"Iruka? What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to try to say something remotely appropriate, but the only thing he could manage was a few gasps of increasingly hysterical laughter, clutching at Kakashi's shoulder as though it were his last remaining hold on sanity, the other hand pressed hard against a stitch in his side.

"--Iruka-sensei?!"

All three of the students were huddled around them in a flash; the part of Iruka's mind that was distantly noting the absurdity of it all was vaguely surprised that Sasuke had also reacted with such immediate concern. Both Sakura and Kakashi had their hands curved to his abdomen; Iruka shook his head a little, still too overwhelmed for coherence.

"...Fine... the baby's fine... --where do you feel for whether my mind's been fractured, though...?" He gasped for breath, and started laughing again. "I... I thought... it was going to be someone's skull through a wall...! You... both of you...!" Iruka shook his head a little, helplessly.

After a moment's frozen silence, Naruto began shouting at Sasuke and Sakura began shouting at Naruto and Sasuke stood silent, head bent, staring fiercely at a piece of pavement that had never previously offended anyone.

"Will you three just SHUT UP?" Kakashi roared.

All three heads swiveled to stare at him. And then their jaws dropped open in unison as they realized they were looking at Kakashi's face.

"K-k-k-kakashi-sensei--!" Naruto and Sakura choked in near-unison; Sasuke seemed to be beyond the capacity for speech.

"Sasuke, you're taking Iruka home," he said, with just barely a glint of amusement at their reaction hidden behind a perfectly conversational tone. "The day's been long and stressful enough without us having to worry whether we can leave you and Naruto in one place without chaos, mayhem, and bloodshed. Sakura, Naruto, you're with me."

The boys were still staring at Kakashi's face; Sakura was the first to recover from that shock and slip over into indignation. "But Kakashi-sensei--! It's Naruto's fault; send him home instead--"

"Leaving your teenaged hormones out of this, Sakura -- Sasuke is responsible enough to see to it that they get home without picking a fight with yet more defenseless inanimate objects," Kakashi retorted. "Iruka's had enough to deal with already tonight; she doesn't need to babysit a hyperactive brat the rest of the evening too. And when we're introducing you lot to the members of a new village, it's better to bring the ones that actually speak in response to a friendly introduction."

The students looked back and forth among each other, glowering, because he'd tidily managed to insult all three of them in a few short sentences.

"So, we're all set!" Kakashi said with a grin; he grabbed Sasuke's wrist, looped it through Iruka's arm, and gave them both a little turn and push in the direction of the schoolhouse. "Sasuke, don't let her fall; it could be dangerous for someone in her condition. Iruka, make sure you rest, now-- Sasuke can make tea for you while the two of you catch up on things."

His one visible eye was dancing with absolute glee. Iruka struggled to keep silent, and to bite back the urge to shove Sasuke into Sakura's arms, grab Naruto, and run before Kakashi could inflict more of his sense of humor on them.

When it came to the serious things, Iruka trusted his lover with his life and more -- things like life and death, the defense of that which he loved, his extraordinary ability to see beyond the surface of everything even without his Sharingan eye. And Iruka was fairly certain that somewhere,  there was a serious reason that Kakashi had thrown Sasuke at him with an almost-order to talk to the boy.

Unfortunately, he was equally certain that Kakashi had chosen this particular method in order to also maximize his own amusement at Iruka and Sasuke's mutually uncomprehending tongue-tied misery.

Before Iruka could think of a way to protest Kakashi's self-indulgent entertainment without saying too much aloud in front of strangers, the infuriating rogue had taken both of the other students and nearly dragged them away.

Sakura was still protesting at the top of her lungs. It was an odd not-quite-consolation to realize that even if he'd managed to protest, Kakashi would have ignored him just as blithely as he was ignoring her...

"Come on," Sasuke said quietly. Iruka flinched.

"I'm sorry -- I'm... never mind, you're right, let's go--" He started toward the school hastily; Sasuke dragged on his arm, with a dark-eyed glare.

"You just about collapsed," he said. "Slow down."

"...I'm sorry. I'm fine, really -- I just... I was so certain it was going to be someone's head that had gone through the board, and..."

Sasuke glared at him again; Iruka stopped short, and bit his lip to keep from chattering any further irrelevance in his nervous panic. He slowed his steps to match Sasuke's, and in a much smaller voice, he whispered, "I am sorry, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke didn't respond, watching the road in front of them with a fixed stare.

This was going to be a long, painful evening.

Side Effects, Chapter 19 .Normal {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoBodyText {font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; font-style:italic;} -->

Side Effects, Chapter 19

ChibiRisu-chan (sweatdropping as she looks around at the scattered collection of dead bodies left in various spots among the last few chapters' reviews): ...err... ehehehe... (scratching behind the ears) sorry 'bout that, folks...?

Chibi-Iruka (shooting nervous looks at grouchy!Chibi-Sasuke still hanging onto his arm): Psst. Hey. Do something about this already!

(grouchy!Chibi-Sasuke transfers his glare to ChibiRisu-chan, who goes a few shades paler and steps back hastily.)

ChibiRisu-chan (to Chibi-Iruka as she edges behind the nearest large rock): How should I know what to do with him? You're his teacher; you figure it out!

Chibi-Iruka: ME? Why me? Aren't I going through enough already?

ChibiRisu-chan: Because Kakashi thought fast enough to dump him on you, that's why! (looks like he didn't want to deal with it either...)

Chibi-Iruka: But you're the one writing this!

ChibiRisu-chan: (more sweatdrops) I don't know if I'd say "writing" as much as "observing in fascinated horror and typing as fast as I can..." (looking nervously over her shoulder to see whether another wave of antivirus-insane 80-to-120-hour work weeks is coming in a tidal wave, and hoping she can get a chunk of the way through this before getting inundated again...) Anyway, you guys are main characters! It's always main characters' job to suffer, or else there's no tension, which means there's nothing to resolve, which means there's no plot; so the more miserable, squirmy, and uncomfortable I make you, the better it works for keeping the story going, right?

grouchy!Chibi-Sasuke: ...I hate her.

Chibi-Iruka: Good, at least that's one point we agree on. Always nice to find common ground for a starting place...

---

Sasuke held Iruka's arm through the entire walk back to the schoolhouse, silent as a stone. Iruka was too embarrassed to protest further, not wanting to intrude too much on the young man's likely humiliation at being given an order which was so patronizing for them both; Kakashi was going to have to work very hard to apologize his way back into their bedroom after this one...

The shadow of the schoolhouse at the end of the road was almost a beacon of hope for Iruka. As he opened the door and turned on the lights, he found himself chattering again without even realizing what he was doing.

"It's a nice place -- we, er, had to do some sudden remodeling earlier this year, so the kitchen's brand new, and there are two rooms upstairs; we'd been using one for our bedroom and one for an office, except the office is sort of being taken over by nursery things obviously -- in any case, hmm... if we move the crib and things into our bedroom, there should be room for a futon for Sakura-kun, and if we turn the downstairs living room into another bedroom with two futon-- the classroom here takes most of the room downstairs, of course, but I think a sliding door to the living room would divide it off--"

"Don't bother," Sasuke said.

Iruka blinked. "Aren't you staying? I thought that we were being assigned to teach Naruto discretion -- I mean, that task is going to take some time..."

"That task is going to take years," Sasuke replied, rolling his eyes. "I meant don't bother yourself. We have tents."

"I'm not going to make you sleep in the woods when there's a perfectly good roof right here!"

"Don't worry about us," Sasuke said with a sigh. "Being sent here is our punishment. There's no reason it should become your punishment too. Besides, I'm sure you and he want... privacy..."

Iruka hesitated at something in Sasuke's voice, and looked at him more closely. "Sasuke-kun -- I don't mean to upset you, but we need to talk about some things."

His face tightened as though he'd bitten into a lemon, and he said, "Yes, I heard the 'suggestion'. But you also got told to rest. Sit down. I'll make tea."

"But..."

"Sit down, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke said, glowering. "I'm not going to try to explain to the rest of them if you collapse again while under my supervision."

"I understand," Iruka said, as gently as he could, fighting back an indulgent smile that the moody young man wouldn't have taken well. "I just want to change clothes. I'll be right back, and I'll sit down, so that you won't feel you're neglecting your assigned responsibility for me. All right?"

His face tinged faintly pink with embarrassment, Sasuke looked away and said, "Fine. The kitchen's in the back, right?" And he headed toward the back of the schoolhouse without waiting for a reply.

Iruka hurried up the stairs and dug through the closet, looking for the most concealing clothing he could find. The maternity overalls were a good start -- he needed some gender-neutral, high-collared shirt to go under it, and Kakashi's certainly wouldn't fit. In the end he pulled one of his oldest T-shirts on, and rolled it up a bit so that it wouldn't be stretched so snugly over the baby-bulge. Then he ran into the bathroom, cupped water in his hands from the sink, and started scrubbing his face clean as quickly as he could.

The pins were pulled out of his hair as fast as he could manage, with a silent apology to Satori; scrubbing his face dry on a towel, he hesitated for a minute, looking at a couple of rolls of bandages in the linen closet.

If I wrapped them around my stomach tightly... just for tonight, just until he gets used to the thought...?

...no. I'm not going to risk something that might hurt the baby or make it uncomfortable. Besides... I'm only going to get bigger; he's going to have to deal with that one way or another...

His hastily-unbound hair was a thoroughly untamed mess of disarranged ex-curls and sticking-out ends and previously-pinned-up bends in odd places; with a groan, Iruka shoved his head under the sink and turned both taps on, then pulled his head out dripping and scrubbed the towel over it hastily and started to drag a comb through the mess.

"Iruka-sensei?" Sasuke called.

"I'm fine! I'll be right there--" He wavered for a moment, then dashed back into the bedroom and grabbed a jacket and threw it on, taking a quick look in the mirror to see if it did what he hoped.

...Still visibly rounded, of course. There was simply no escaping the fact that his waistline had grown since the last time Sasuke had seen him. The overalls just cradled the lower part of his belly's curve rather than the top of it. But at least it wasn't that much unlike any overweight workman in overalls -- and with the jacket to try to camouflage his profile, and if he stayed sitting behind the table or something -- it would have to do.

Iruka grabbed a tie to finish his hair with, and hurried downstairs still fighting to get the comb through the tangled mess. Dragging all of it up to the top of his head, the tie temporarily held between his teeth, Iruka mumbled, "Shee? I'n fiin', no prollem..."

"Sit," Sasuke said sternly, pointing at a chair. "I heard you running around up there. You're not supposed to do that."

Halfway between embarrassed and amused, Iruka hastily finished his tie and sat down where indicated. "It's kind of you to be so concerned, but I'm really not that far along yet, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke turned back to the teapot, his shoulders stiff. A minute later, he murmured, "You didn't have to do that."

"Do what...?"

"...Change. You didn't have to change just for me."

"Believe me, I was glad to get out of the shoes," Iruka said quickly, both hands up.

Sasuke turned again at that, with fierce eyes. "It's the end of August. There's no way you're wearing that jacket as anything other than camouflage. And there's nothing to camouflage yourself against, except me..."

"It's not an 'against,'" Iruka replied, quiet-voiced. "I just thought... it might be more comfortable for you, if I looked... more familiar."

"You didn't have to do that," Sasuke said again, unhappily. "If you liked the dress, you should have worn it, no matter what I think. It's none of my business."

Iruka leaned both elbows on the table, fingertips to his temples, trying hard to feel his way to a safe path through the secretive corners and shadows in Sasuke's mind. A path that would let him speak the truth, not hurt the boy, and not be taken for patronizing lies -- Sasuke was simply... difficult. Naruto's headlong, thoughtless forthrightness was simple in comparison -- one simply had to learn how not to get blown away by the effects of a human tornado; as long as you kept your feet on the ground and knew when and how to put a leash on that unbridled energy, Naruto was simple to deal with. Sasuke was... complex, with too many layers of pain that could be touched by accident, and too much rigidly self-controlled secrecy to let anyone know when a touch caused pain...

"It's a perfectly good dress," Iruka said, choosing each word with great care. "It's difficult to find maternity clothes that don't make the wearer look like some horribly redecorated melon. But I'm honestly much more comfortable in this. On the other hand, I did choose this rather than something else because it's as masculine as this type of clothing can possibly get... and as you observed, the jacket is entirely for camouflage. Would you feel more comfortable if I left it on, or if I took it off?"

"The point is that it's none of my business! Wear what you want to wear."

After a moment's contemplation, Iruka took off the jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. "All right," he said. "You're right. I shouldn't have tried to disguise my condition when I don't know whether that's actually what's upset you. But if I'm going to stop guessing, then you're going to have to explain at least a little."

"...It's nothing."

Iruka glared at the back of his head, with his best teacher-gaze to lend weight to it. "That is the worst lie I've heard all year, Sasuke-kun. And that includes time spent with Kakashi."

"It's not your problem, it's mine," Sasuke said, taking the teapot off the stove and making himself far too busy with what should have been a fairly simple act of pouring into two mugs.

"It is my problem if the current circumstances upset you too much even to meet my eyes," Iruka said.

Sasuke froze motionless; then he set the teapot down, and took a careful breath, and brought both mugs to the table... making a far too concerted effort to look Iruka straight in the face. But he simply couldn't maintain it, despite his formidable force of will -- or stubbornness. Sipping at the tea gave Sasuke an excuse to stare down at the tabletop again.

"I'm sorry," Iruka said.

That brought Sasuke's eyes back to his for a moment, fiercely. "Don't apologize. I told you, it's my problem. I'll deal with it myself." Then he looked away again, and dug a hand through his hair, and picked up the mug, staring into it as though the tea leaves in the bottom really could foretell the future.

Iruka sighed, and took a careful sip of his tea; it was perfectly brewed, a clear, delicate spring-green that almost tasted of the sunlight the plants had flourished beneath. Whatever nervous fidgeting Sasuke had done with the brewing process, it was clearly worth it.

"The tea is wonderful," he murmured. "Thank you."

Sasuke shrugged a little, more a twitch of one shoulder than anything.

Iruka took another sip of the tea, to try to buy another moment to gather his nerve and his scattered thoughts, and to place a few more well-chosen silent curses on Kakashi's head. Then he deliberately set his cup down, and Sasuke flinched just from the sound of it: that distinct sound of yes, I'm serious about this  that any teacher learned to express with anything hitting a desk. Pens, mugs, a pile of tests, anything at all... he hadn't actually meant to set this on a teacher-student level, since Sasuke hadn't been one of his students for years. But it was better than denials and noncommunication; Iruka was fairly certain that something in Sasuke still reacted to the sound of unspoken authority. It was a pity neither Kakashi nor Naruto had ever developed that reflex...

"Sasuke-kun," he said, choosing his words almost as though he were addressing a difficult student's parent at a conference. "I understand that such personal matters can be awkward to discuss, and that you are by nature a perceptive, very private, and fiercely self-controlled young man. You are among the finest students it's ever been my privilege to teach, and I'm just as proud of the person you have become since then. That's why it's so difficult for me to watch you like this -- walking away without even touching your food after a long day's travel, watching you flinch from looking at me..."

"It's my problem," Sasuke said, almost desperately.

"It's our problem," Iruka replied. "Because if you'll just tell me a little more about why you're upset, I can try to find ways to help you become less uncomfortable with the situation."

Sasuke didn't reply, other than to bury his face in both hands.

After a moment's consideration, Iruka decided this was a good thing, since the boy hadn't gotten up and stormed out again. So he took a careful breath and set both hands on the table and tried another angle to cracking the shell of Sasuke's knotted misery.

"Is it about Kakashi and me? Our relationship? Or is it just about my condition?"

No response beyond a small shudder, but no bolting for the door either. Iruka felt a bit like a bomb-defusing specialist, clipping one cable at a time and waiting with held breath to see if he died in a bloody explosion a moment later.

"If it's the two of us -- we can be discreet, I promise. We're both shinobi; we understand when discretion is ...helpful. For several years, we've managed to be fairly private in a village full of other ninja, after all..."

"That's not it," Sasuke choked.

All right, progress. Unfortunately, that only leaves one option... Iruka sighed deeply, and said, "Thank you. That does make the difficulty more clear."

"It's not--"

"It's all right," Iruka said, quietly. "I do understand how this must have been a shock to you. It was a shock for me, and I've had months to get used to the idea; no one ever guessed Naruto's jutsu might have side effects like this."

It was harder to discuss this than he'd expected; Iruka could feel the traitorous heat in his face, the aggravating blush a too-evident testimony to his own discomfort. He cleared his throat a little, and murmured, "I'm sure you understand that there's a -- practical limit on what I can do for concealment. Particularly as time passes. But I promise I'll do what I can to... mask the extent of it, so that it's easier to mistake for overweight; I'm sorry if you find it -- unnatural, or repulsive, but..."

"That's not it at all!" Sasuke burst out. "That has nothing to do with it-- Iruka-sensei, I don't understand. I'm trying to understand, I'm trying to be smarter than the idiot, but damn it, I don't understand at all -- how? How could you--?"

Iruka's blush redoubled itself. "I... er... I'm a little fuzzy on that part myself; I don't intend to get into details, but it was a... considerable surprise..."

"No," Sasuke said, intensely. "That's got nothing to do with it. Or at least, that's the least part of it. How can you do something like this? You're a shinobi, but not a strong one. You're smart enough to know that. And you're not an overemotional fool like Naruto. So how can you risk it--?"

Sasuke stopped short, pushed his chair back, and started pacing a tight circle around the kitchen. "Hostages are a liability," he said raggedly. "Even strangers' children can be hostages. And hostages you love are far more vulnerable."

It hurt a little, to hear it stated so boldly; Iruka took an unsteady breath. "I know," he said. "I do understand that my baby could become a hostage, because of what Kakashi is, or because of what Konoha is. So could anyone's child, unfortunately. It's a cold fact of the world. But there's nothing I can do to change it."

"You could have aborted it," Sasuke said.

Shaken, Iruka cupped a hand to his belly in a reflexive defense against the mere thought. "...That possibility never even crossed my mind. Sasuke-kun -- from the moment I understood what was happening, I've never been anything other than thrilled."

"But you're not strong enough," Sasuke said, "and he's not responsible enough! It's bad enough that the two of you can be used against each other -- how can you bear a child knowing it will be the first target anyone strikes at? You're a teacher, not a warrior. He's gone most of the time -- and he's so... He's a perverted, infuriating, irresponsible, headstrong, overconfident -- I don't even understand what someone like you could see in someone like him!"

"Sasuke-kun--"

"I'm serious," the boy said, both hands so tightly fisted the knuckles were white. "You've never been an idiot. Never. That's the piece that doesn't fit. You're serious and responsible and hardworking and you do the best you can with whatever you're given, whether it's children to teach or a headstrong idiot to keep in line -- you're better than this! Better than him. He's stronger, but strength is just enough to get you killed unless you're cautious enough know when not to stick your neck out -- and he does that too damned much! He talks about ninja ideals, but he never lives up to them -- he gets too emotionally involved, he cares too much. Anyone who knows him can use that against him. Anyone. And for the love of God, he's not even remotely civilized--"

"Sasuke-kun, what are you asking me?" Iruka said, by then completely bewildered. "Are you asking why I love Kakashi, or why I love Naruto?"

Sasuke's head went back as though he'd been slapped; wild-eyed, he shot back, "Kakashi-sensei, of course! Who could love that -- that -- loudmouthed, brainless, dead-last--"

"It's not that difficult," Iruka said, with a wry, crooked grin. "It's not difficult to love either of them, really. For utterly different reasons, of course. I know they're both infuriating in their own specialized ways. Believe me, I know. Naruto wouldn't know subtlety if you wrote it on a brick and beat him over the head with it, and Kakashi would have to dissect and triple-examine the brick to make sure that the surface message was all there was to it..."

"Isn't that my point?" Sasuke growled.

"I suppose it could be taken that way, yes But really, despite it all -- to me, I can't understand how anyone could not love them," Iruka said, rueful and gentle. "Particularly after enough time to get to know the truth behind their facades. They're astonishingly alike in many ways."

"Kakashi-sensei is a genius," Sasuke said stiffly. "Infuriating and lazy and perverted, but  a genius. Naruto is... Naruto's about as far from a genius as it's possible to get without actually talking to zucchini or something!"

"I'll grant that Kakashi uses infinitely more intellectual calculation before he goes ahead and does the stupid thing that could get himself killed," Iruka admitted with a sigh. "And then there's his unbelievably twisted sense of humor, as opposed to Naruto's complete lack of forethought or calculation about anything... but other than that, really, they're a lot alike. And I find them both truly admirable. The courage, and the compassion -- and that incredible capacity for loyalty and devotion to those they've chosen to care for, no matter what the odds..."

"Are you talking about them or about yourself?" Sasuke asked, his eyes shadowed.

"About them, of course! They're both fearless, and I'm anything but," Iruka said with a laugh. "Naruto is too straightforward to notice most of the fear in the world, and Kakashi just dodges it about as neatly as he dodges responsibility; all I can do is watch them and try not to cover my eyes in horror too often."

"That didn't stop you from taking a twenty-pound shuriken in the spine for Naruto's sake," Sasuke said under his breath. "Everything that moron knows about how to be an admirable person, he's learned from you."

"That's not true," Iruka said. "It took him a while to get over the desperation for attention, but he's grown up quite a bit since he painted the Hokages' faces. He's a good person all on his own, Sasuke-kun, really."

"But you're the one whom he looked up to all his life," the boy retorted. "You're the one he wanted to impress. If he'd fixated on Kakashi-sensei, or God forbid Jiraiya-sensei, by now he'd be a porn-reading pathological liar with a lot worse things in his repertoire than sexy-no-jutsu! But they're not the ones who left the greatest impression on what he's become. You are."

Blushing a little despite himself, Iruka said, "I'm flattered that you think so, but--"

"You're the one who taught him the things he really learned the best," Sasuke insisted, stormy-eyed. "You fed him your compassion with every bowl of that ramen.You taught him loyalty by being the only person in the world who believed in him. You taught him that stupid stubborn courage every day in class, teaching lessons he thought he'd never learn, struggling to become better than he ever thought he could. --And the problem is you taught him too damn well for his intellectual capacity!" the boy added, sounding quite annoyed.

"That's a little harsh, Sasuke-kun," Iruka said, lips twitching with the effort not to laugh, because it wouldn't be fair to either of them if he did.

"Fear is a survival mechanism! You've got the intelligence to be afraid when the situation calls for it. He doesn't! He just charges right on through... and Kakashi-sensei's worse because he does know better and he still charges into it! How can you love someone like that? Knowing he's going to get himself hurt if he keeps this up, but knowing it won't be him anymore if he ever changes..." Sasuke stopped himself short again, and turned away, shaking.

After a moment's hesitation, Iruka stood to walk over beside him quietly. If it had been Naruto standing there on the verge of tears of frustration and bewilderment, he would simply have taken the boy into his arms and let him cry. Sasuke was different, but he hoped that an adult presence nearby would still remind him of the way parents cared for their anguished children.

"Sasuke-kun... love is always a risk." With one hand resting on his rounding belly, Iruka added, "The consequences of some risks are more unexpected than others, of course. But I believe love is always worth the risk."

"Love isn't just a risk; it's a weakness," Sasuke replied, head bent. "And I need to be strong, to defeat my brother. I've worked so hard to be stronger, learning to endure it by myself, no matter what the world throws at me -- I don't have enough strength to spare for loving people. You're not as strong as I am; how do you bear it? I couldn't bear the constant fear for everyone around me -- but you care about every single student who's ever passed through your hands. You make them hostages when you love them, and you leave yourself open for pain, and I know you. You push your classes so hard because you grieve for every one of your students who've died. How can you bear it? I'm stronger than you, and I can't even afford that kind of weakness--"

"But it's not a weakness. In a way, love is the only strength I have," Iruka said. Daring greatly, he reached over to stroke the boy's dark hair; Sasuke shivered, but didn't pull away.

"Sasuke-kun, I'm certain that in a fight you could wipe the floor with me any day of the week," he murmured. "But if someone I loved was depending on me, I'd get up and come back. If I'd been the only person I was protecting, I probably would have laid down and died when that shuriken hit me -- but Naruto needed me, and so I couldn't surrender then. The people I love are the source of my strength. And it's terrifying, but it's also wonderful..."

"But it never lasts!" Sasuke cried out. " If Kakashi-sensei goes off and gets himself killed because of that fixation on not letting his comrades die, where does that leave you? One of these days he's going to pay for it; and with his child to care for, you'll pay for it too! It never lasts -- they always leave, they always die, and then you're alone with nothing but the memories of what it used to be like -- being happy, having someone who cared about you -- and it's worse than if you never knew what happiness was at all--"

Iruka's hands reacted before his conscious mind caught up with the reflex; he caught the boy by the shoulders, pulled him close enough to hold, and was cradling him gently in both arms with his cheek nestled against his hair before he remembered, This is Uchiha Sasuke, not Naruto! If you startle him too much, he could take your hand off at the wrist before he even realized what he was doing...

Fortunately, Sasuke seemed to be as stunned by the gesture as Iruka was to find himself making it; he stood rigid and trembling in the circle of Iruka's arms, struggling just to breathe without letting himself sob.

With one careful hand rubbing at the knot of tension between the boy's shoulderblades, Iruka said, "I should never have left you alone for so long. None of us should have."

"It's not your problem--"

"It should have been," Iruka replied, eyes closed. "I never stopped to think. I thought you were all right, you see. The village hates Naruto, but they love you -- at least, the idea of you -- all the girls who want to be the mother of the resurrected Uchiha clan's heirs, all the parents who ask why their children can't be as hard-working and gifted as you and Neji and the other prodigies... but at the end of the day, you were still alone. I should never have left you alone. I shouldn't have listened when you said you were fine..."

"I am fine," Sasuke whispered, both hands fisted at his sides. "I was a child, and ignorant. I was too young to realize that people always die no matter how much you love them -- but I'm old enough to understand that now. I'm fine by myself. I have to be fine by myself--"

"No, you don't!" Iruka shot back, catching Sasuke's chin and glaring down into furious black eyes. "No one should have to live like that. No one can live like that. Not you, not Naruto, not anyone... I never wanted to hear you say that you have nothing left but memories of what it was like to be loved and happy! Everyone needs someone to rely on-- I should have told you more often that Kakashi and I are there for you. Until you could believe that not everyone who cares about you will be taken away--"

"You're too naive," Sasuke said. "You care too much. About everyone. How can you--?"

"And you're too bitter, and too badly hurt," Iruka replied. "I suppose that means I'll just have to stick around and balance you out with a good stiff dose of family smothering every so often, doesn't it?"

"Don't worry about me!" Sasuke threw back fiercely, struggling free of Iruka's hold. "I'll be fine. I don't want to be something else for you to worry about-- damn it, I knew I shouldn't have said anything to start with--"

Iruka held up two empty, unthreatening hands, and said, "It's all right. I won't push."

"Don't worry about me either," Sasuke repeated, standing a few feet away, tense enough to bolt. "Don't upset yourself. I don't need it. I'm not worth it. You shouldn't care so much."

"That's not true," Iruka said, and then held up his hands again at the way Sasuke shifted as though about to run. "I'm not pushing. I'm just saying that it's not as difficult as you think for someone to care about you."

"But it's you saying that, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke said, with a tired sigh. "You're not rational about things like this. Asking you not to hurt yourself worrying is like asking Kakashi-sensei to be on time for a meeting... one with lots of bureaucracy in it. It just isn't in you..."

"I'm not that bad!" Iruka protested.

Sasuke looked utterly unconvinced.

With a sigh, one hand faintly rubbing against his side, Iruka said, "In any case, I'm glad you did let us talk about this, Sasuke-kun, really. Because... it's silly and petty of me, I know, but... it's a comfort to know that I'm not... disgusting to you."

A shadow shifted behind the boy's dark eyes, just a flicker of something half-hidden and unreadable. In a low voice, he responded, "You could never be disgusting to me."

Iruka blinked, and then blinked again, startled by the undercurrent in his voice.

A moment later, more sharply, as though recalling himself, Sasuke glared and said, "Sit down. You're supposed to be resting."

A little sheepish, Iruka murmured, "I'd really rather not, if you don't mind."

"But you're supposed to--"

"I know, I know," Iruka said hastily. "It's just that... I'm getting kicked at the moment; I think that used to be my liver before it became the baby's punching bag, and sometimes if I stand up and walk around a little she'll settle down..."

Iruka hadn't realized it was possible for someone that pale to turn three shades paler. "Maybe you should sit down, though?" he suggested, trying not to sound too concerned, because of the boy's bristling, defensive reaction to the thought of someone worrying about him.

"I don't understand," Sasuke whispered. "How can you stand it?"

"...What?"

Haltingly, struggling with each word, the boy said, "You're... I know you're weaker than I am... but... you do things like this, you do things that hurt; you walk around loving people, getting hurt for it, getting like this, and you still smile as though you're happy..."

"But I am happy!" Iruka said, surprised. "And -- honestly, most of the time, it doesn't hurt that much."

"How could it not? I can see how it's draining your energy reserves, and even just the physicality of it... the way it strains your body. The way the weight drags at your back, even. And being... being stretched like that, tight and full and getting fuller, all the time, without a rest--"

"It's not like that. I mean... well, in a way it is, but..." He could feel his embarrassment showing in his face. "The... the increase... it's not like pulling on your skin, it doesn't hurt like that; it's gentler, and... --Would you mind giving me your hand, Sasuke-kun?"

After a moment's hesitation, the boy held out his hand; Iruka placed it atop the soft, well-worn denim of the maternity overalls, and pressed their hands carefully into the ripening mound of his abdomen.

"There, feel that?" Iruka asked, smiling down at the contrast between his dusky, tanned hands and Sasuke's porcelain-fair one. "Women's bodies adapt. There's... a bit of cushioning; it's not just that the womb's growth stretches the mother's belly. I've gained more weight than just the baby; you can feel it. And the womb isn't so taut and snug as you might think. The baby floats inside a cushion of fluids, to shield her if the mother would fall or be struck in the abdomen, so that the womb is softer than it would be if the child filled it completely. Later on there's less room for the fluid, and it does become more firm and full; but I'm just beginning the final trimester, and somehow there's still room for the baby to turn somersaults inside me. That's always quite a surprise to feel..."

Iruka glanced up to see if the explanation was any sort of comfort to the boy's concerns for his pain, and then he yelped. Sasuke's face had gone almost ashen, and he was swaying on his feet.

"Sasuke-kun! Chair -- you -- I mean -- sit down--!" Iruka half-dragged the boy over to the kitchen table, folded him into a chair, and put his head down on the table for him, then sat on his heels at Sasuke's side and started chattering. "I'm sorry -- are you all right? I didn't mean -- I've got too many teacher's reflexes, that's all -- should I get you a glass of water? I'll be right back--"

Sasuke caught his wrist and held on, breathing very, very carefully with his head still on the table to keep from passing out. "...relax...! Iruka-sensei, you twit..."

"Too much information, wasn't it," Iruka said, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Sasuke managed a faint, pale shake of his head, and tried cautiously to sit up a little. "...Somersaults...? Gah... how do you keep anything down...?"

"Small meals fairly often," Iruka admitted. "Everything's getting crowded inside, including my stomach."

"...I can imagine." He closed his eyes for a minute, breathing carefully, but a small almost-whimper made it past his stoic attempt at gathering his shattered pride: "...somersaults...?!"

"That's usually Kakashi's fault," Iruka said with a sigh.

"Kakashi-sensei's? --How...?"

"He likes to tickle the baby. Touching her with little chakra-flares. I can't tell if she's delighted or miserable, but she always reacts quite... vigorously." Iruka hesitated, and then said a little shyly, "I'd... wanted to 'introduce' you too, but... if the thought of it makes you feel faint, never mind..."

"I wasn't fainting!" Sasuke protested, a purely knee-jerk reflex accompanied by a ferocious scowl and an even more ferocious blush.

Iruka bit his lip to keep from smiling; apparently Kakashi and Naruto weren't the only lousy liars in the group. Unfortunately, Sasuke noticed the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and repeated at the top of his lungs, "I wasn't!"

And so nothing would salve Sasuke's injured pride but having Iruka teach him how to touch the baby like Kakashi did. Fighting to keep a straight face, Iruka set his palm against Sasuke's stomach.

"It's like a strike in that you focus the energy outside yourself, but much gentler, much more controlled -- a caress rather than a punch. Like healing, almost, except that there's no damage to  mend. You feel for her energy points and touch them, warm them... like this..."

When Iruka touched the chakra-point behind Sasuke's navel and sent a pulse of warm energy into it, the boy dumped his chair over backwards with the reflexive lurch back, and scrambled away on hands and heels: "Gyaaahhh--!"

Despite his best efforts, despite both hands shoved over his mouth, Iruka couldn't help bursting into laughter.

"...Dammit, that tickled, that's all!" Sasuke picked himself up, righted the chair, and sat in it in order to glare down more imposingly. "You -- I can't believe you! You actually taught me that, like you'd let me touch your baby that way!"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Sasuke's eyes tightened, and he looked away, one hand creeping up to touch his throat. "...I'm not going to taint an unborn child's soul with the shadow of what I am."

"You are not Orochimaru, and you are not going to taint anything when you touch someone," Iruka said fiercely. "You are yourself. Just like Naruto isn't the demon fox; he is himself. I plan to introduce both of your teammates to the baby too; I have every confidence in your ability to be appropriately gentle, and she loves being touched by our energy whether or not we 'tickle' her while we're at it. Just the connection is enough for her to feel you, with or without the flare behind it. Give me your hand."

"Iruka-sensei--"

Iruka stood and held out his hand, a silent imperative backed up by the best teacher-glare he could muster. Sasuke had natural advantages in the solemn-broody-glowering area, but he hadn't had nearly as many years to refine the technique; after a moment of silent struggle, the boy surrendered, and placed his hand in Iruka's.

Settling his weight on the edge of the table carefully, Iruka brought Sasuke's trembling hand to rest against his belly again. He placed his hand over the boy's, and pressed gently but firmly; they could both feel the ripple of pressure when he took a breath to speak.

"Little one, this is your almost-uncle Sasuke," Iruka murmured. "You'll meet some more almost-aunts and uncles later; Sasuke-kun's just a bit shy, that's all." He looked up at Sasuke's dark, haunted eyes, and reached up to stroke the boy's hair almost despite himself. "It's all right," he said. "I trust you."

"...I don't trust myself."

"Too bad," Iruka replied lightly. "You're not going anywhere until you've said a proper hello to my daughter."

"Daughter...?"

"I think it'll be a girl. Kakashi thinks a boy. We don't have that many months left to wait and wonder, though; it'll work itself out. So are you going to introduce yourself at any point before I go into labor?"

It took a visible effort; Sasuke braced himself, swallowing convulsively, and took a deep, shaky breath, and blew it all out. Then he closed his eyes and reached, trembling with the effort to restrain as much of his strength as possible, to touch the unborn child's life-energy as lightly as the flicker of a butterfly's wing.

"Hello," he whispered. "Don't be afraid. Please don't be--"

The baby pushed against his palm, hard; Sasuke jerked his hand away as though he'd been burned, and then turned anguished dark eyes up to his teacher. "It-- she--"

"That wasn't a 'go away,' Sasuke-kun," Iruka said with a rueful smile, reclaiming the boy's trembling hand to curve it against the place where the baby had pushed. "She likes you. She likes your touch. New people are always exciting, you see."

Sasuke stared down at their entwined hands; the baby did seem to recognize his touch, nudging his palm again with a little patter of kicks. Then he stared up at Iruka, unable to speak.

"I'd imagine it's something to do with Kakashi's games," Iruka said, fondly exasperated. "We've never heard of an unborn child being so responsive to the touch of different chakra, particularly this early in the last trimester. But I'd imagine she first learned to tell the two of us apart because I settle her down rather than tickling her, and she's clearly a playful little thing -- of course, she's Kakashi's child. But I'm sure it's been dull for her, floating inside with nothing to do, and so she's delighted when someone notices her and says hello."

When he lifted his face toward Iruka, Sasuke's eyes glittered far too brightly, with the trembling of fiercely-fought-back, unshed tears of grief... or of rage.

"Why?" he choked. "How can you bring a child into a world like this one? So totally unprepared for it...? I never thought you were so selfish, or so cruel!"

"Sasuke-kun...?"

"How can you do this to someone else, without even asking? Daughter or son, you know what will happen to that innocent little thing so happily pushing at our hands! Expected to be a ninja, like it or not; taught either to kill without remorse or to be mocked as weak -- and mocked for what the two of you are, and for the nature of its birth -- you know how the village is!" he snapped. "So many times, I've wished I'd never been born! I wish he'd just killed me with the rest of--"

In shock, Iruka reached for him again, a blind reflex from years of being able to comfort Naruto with a hug and a good hair-scruffling and a bowl of steaming hot ramen; but this was Sasuke, who'd already been given more caring human contact in one evening than his aloof and isolated soul could bear.

And it finally pushed him over the edge. Sasuke ducked away from Iruka's hand as though it burned, and dashed through the front door.

For the first time, Iruka could have cursed his increasing child-heaviness, because he couldn't chase Sasuke down like this; all he could do was to stand on the porch staring out into the darkness, and hope the boy might still be listening: "Sasuke-kun? Sasuke-kun, I'm sorry! Come back -- please, come back; I didn't mean to upset you -- I didn't want it to go this way-- please..."

He stood watching and listening for far longer than was reasonable, straining his senses for any hint of direction, even -- but Sasuke was a past master at hiding whatever he didn't want to be seen, whether emotion or his entire self.

Finally, even Iruka had to surrender the hope that the boy might wander back on his own. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he fought back the urge to beat his head against the wood, instead forcing himself to go back inside and to close the door calmly and still leave everything on its hinges.

Dammit. Dammit, Kakashi, you trusted me too much. I was terrified I'd screw this up somehow, and now -- damn it all... damn you, Kakashi; you knew I never understood him the way you do; you'd just have stood there being silent at each other and it would all have sorted itself out in that yeah-we're-inscrutable thing the two of you do,  and he'd still be here... dammit!

Iruka drove a fist straight into the wall just to relieve the frustration, and stalked back into the kitchen to start a mad spree of vicious dishwashing. It was either that or try to hunt the boy down after dark in an unfamiliar area surrounded by completely unknown forest creatures, followed shortly thereafter by at least a solid month and a half of lectures from Kakashi and all three of the students... and so the dishes were in for the scouring of the century.

The dishes didn't outlast his frustration, his concern, and his need to keep his hands busy with something other than kunai and a garrotte and plans for agonizing and lethal traps around their bedroom door and window in case Kakashi ever suffered from the misguided delusion that he would be setting foot in it again without several days or weeks of groveling.

So Iruka followed the dishes with dusting every horizontal surface available, cleaning the blackboard until it was glossy and dark and almost too clean to touch with chalk, reorganizing the children's kanji on the walls, setting out materials for the next two solid weeks of lesson plans, and finally storming back upstairs to the office.

The crib would stay, naturally, but for anyone else to sleep in the room, the desk and bookshelves had to go; Iruka sat down and started shoveling books into boxes, dragged them into the bedroom, and left them stacked on top of Kakashi's half of the futon, then glared down at the solid weight of the desk.

The least Sasuke-kun could have done would've been to help me clean this place up for them before he went off in his huff...

The desk had to move first, though; the bookshelves would need to be wedged into place around it, and no one else was home, and knowing Kakashi and Naruto in combination, it would be far too late to start rearranging the room for guests by the time they returned. Still, a twinge of concern tugged at the corner of his mind: don't strain yourself too much, idiot. You can't fall, you can't set off labor this much too early, she'd never survive being born now...

Iruka took all the drawers out of the desk and stacked them in the corner, then studied the edge of the desk carefully, and took a deep breath, and got a secure grip on either side. Knees bent, don't pull with the back -- or the stomach muscles, especially not now -- let my weight move it and if it won't move, it can wait--

Iruka braced himself and heaved at the desk; it slid quite nicely, several feet across the floor, and it was a good thing he was getting his feet back underneath himself when the outraged voice shouted in through the window.

"Don't DO that! What do you think you're doing?!"

Sasuke's head was hanging upside down past the edge of the window, like the world's largest and crankiest bat. The boy flipped in through the window with a quick catch at the frame, landed in the middle of the room, and turned his glare on Iruka right-side-up this time, scowling like a little thundercloud: "You could have hurt yourself! You could have hurt the baby! I swear I don't understand a damn thing about what goes through your mind--"

"None of you could sleep in here with both the crib and the desk," Iruka said.

"So you wait for one of us to come back!"

"Yes, well -- what were you waiting for, hanging around outside that window?"

"It was my responsibility to keep an eye on you, to keep you safe," Sasuke retorted, acidic. "Damned good thing I did, too. Nobody mentioned that it would be hard to keep you safe from yourself and your redecorating impulses--"

Iruka couldn't help a small chuckle; Sasuke nearly hit the roof.

"It's not funny! Do you know what you could have done? The baby--"

"I know," Iruka said, still smiling. "I was being careful. And I would have stopped if anything hurt. But without the drawers it's lighter than it looks; I'm glad you decided to 'drop in,' the weight's not so bad but it's awkward to manage alone--"

"You are not moving that desk!"

"But Sakura-kun needs a place to sleep, and if she can sleep in here, then the two of you can sleep in the living room--"

"You are not moving that desk," Sasuke said again. "I'll do it myself. By myself."

"Thank you for the offer, Sasuke-kun, but I'm sure you don't weigh enough to--" Iruka stopped short, startled by the Sharingan's crimson bleeding into the darkness of his eyes.

"You are NOT moving that desk!" Sasuke snarled -- and proceeded to lift it by himself. He all but threw it into the other room as Iruka stared; the desk was followed swiftly by the bookcases, and then Sasuke shut the door to the bedroom and leaned on it and turned a furious red-eyed glare on his teacher.

"There's floor space, lay out a futon and she'll be fine. Happy now?"

"Yes, very," Iruka said, mildly. "And you know, Sasuke-kun, we never did finish that wonderful tea you made. Shall I go warm some more water?"

"I'll go heat the water." The blood-red Sharingan pattern was fading from his irises, but Sasuke still looked distinctly irritated. "I'll make tea. I'll give you a whole damn tea ceremony if it means you'll go downstairs and sit down and rest and NOT take it into your head to start moving furniture by yourself!"

"Just the tea will be fine," Iruka said, struggling not to grin too much.

Sasuke nodded stiffly. "Go on, then. Go. Sit. Put your feet up. And don't move. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Iruka said, putting fingertips over his lips because he knew he was losing the battle with the grin.

Sasuke made a skeptical sound and stalked down the stairs, all but visibly seething; Iruka followed him dutifully, still grinning to himself, and he stopped to gather up a collection of his students' papers from the desk in the schoolroom.

From the kitchen, Sasuke called, "You've got no business in there! There's nowhere to rest. Living room. Sofa. Feet up. I'm counting to ten."

"Right, right," Iruka said hastily, and brought his purloined pile of homework into the living room to settle himself into the sofa as ordered. There was time enough to argue the peremptory tone and the overprotectiveness later; at the moment, it was good enough that Sasuke was actually back in the house and talking. Barking orders did necessarily involve talking, after all... and the rest could wait until after the tea and the homework.

Right. Grading for a couple of hours. Kakashi should be home by then. And I can dump the rest of the Sasuke-time-bomb-defusing project in his lap with no warning and see how he deals with it. Yes, that sounds like quite a worthwhile use of the rest of the evening...

---

quick author's note: FF.net's offline at the moment, so I can't check names, but for the reviewer who guessed about the towel racks: ^__^ You have Iruka's answer, come up with after many hours of frustrated head-scratching and several blushes, while wondering if there might be any more perverted options that Kakashi could have thought of, and being unable to imagine a more perverted option that also makes any kind of physiological sense. When asked, however, Kakashi looks smug and says "My sweet innocent. Remind me to introduce you to the way I take showers sometime..." (Note that I'm not saying you and Iruka are necessarily wrong -- just that that's how Kakashi always answers the question. Yes, there's a story there, and I strongly doubt it'd end up rated PG 13. I just have to get time (and the nerve ^^;;) to write it... ^_~)

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Side Effects, Chapter 20

"Kakashi-sensei, what the hell did you have to go and do that for?" Naruto demanded, arms crossed and glowering like a little old man. "What did Iruka-sensei do to deserve getting saddled with that bad-attitude cocky-ass bastard all night, instead of being at a festival with us?"

Annnd... time to test the theory. Kakashi draped an arm around Naruto's shoulders and bent enough to murmur into the irritated boy's ear.

"You know, some people would recognize when their kind, generous, and thoughtful teacher is doing them a favor."

"Like how?" Naruto grumped.

"If Sasuke were here, what do you think Sakura-chan would be doing right now?"

"Drooling over him, like always," Naruto said, with a roll of the eyes.

"And he's not here. And you are. Notice that part yet?"

As the slow dawning of comprehension began to light the boy's eyes from within, Kakashi planted his hook: "Or is it that you don't want an excuse to be at a festival when your unfairly brilliant and gorgeous archrival is nowhere to be seen? You're practically out on a date with a pretty girl, you know -- is it that horrible an idea...?"

And if it's even occurred to him that I'm suggesting he might be more interested in Sasuke, he's going to go crimson and start protesting a mile a minute that Sakura is perfectly fine with him and he doesn't mind at all--

But instead, Naruto's face was completely transfigured with a disturbing cocktail of emotions; if he'd had to mix it in a glass, Kakashi would have reached for a bottle of overjoyed glee with a spritz of mischievous calculation.

For perhaps the first time in history, Naruto flung his arms around Kakashi's waist as though he were Iruka.

"Kakashi-sensei, I take it back! I take it all back! Every single time I called you a lying lazy-ass kinky-pervert no-good lame excuse for a teacher, I take it back -- you totally rock! ...Along with Iruka-sensei of course!"

...Now, if that was supposed to be a compliment, I've heard more flattering descriptions used in deliberate insults. "You don't say," he murmured, lips barely twitching.

The boy struggled for a moment, but nothing could shake his good mood at the opportunity for an almost-date with Sakura: "I even forgive you for doing kinky stuff with Iruka-sensei!"

"How wonderfully magnanimous of you," Kakashi replied.

Naruto squinted at him suspiciously. "Hey. Is that word rude or something?"

"Not at all," Kakashi said, almost straight-faced; he'd come to rely on the mask more than he thought, around the kids. Sarcastic, yes; rude, not inherently...

With a bit of mental discipline, he reined in his mischief-imps and offered Naruto a real smile.

"I know how important Iruka is to you, and how protective you are of people whom you care about," Kakashi said to his wriggling student. "Now, keep in mind that I'd stay with Iruka whether or not you objected -- but it's nice to know that I've passed your standards."

He scruffled the boy's hair just to watch him splutter, then added, "So what are you doing wasting time with me when you could be enjoying your almost-date time with Sakura-chan?"

Naruto giggled like a much younger boy, as he scratched behind his ear. "Oh yeah!" And he set off skipping down the street toward Sakura, sing-songing happily: "I'm on a date with Sakura-chan! I'm on a date with Sakura-chan--"

The poor girl's shriek of disbelieving horror and dismay must have been audible for miles.

Watching Naruto latch onto her arm with an ear to ear grin despite the way she propped an elbow on his face to try to pry him loose, Kakashi sighed to himself.

...So they're still going round and round at this after all. He thinks he loves her, she thinks she loves Sasuke, Sasuke thinks he doesn't love anyone, and I'd bet good money they're all at least half wrong.

And even if they could be right, even if they truly do feel the way they think they do -- I  know it's for the wrong reasons right now.

Naruto simply wants her to acknowledge him; if she actually offered him anything deeper than that, he'd probably fall over dead of heart failure at the sheer shock.

Sakura wants Sasuke as a trophy as much as a boyfriend, so she can be 'the one pure damsel whose steadfast devotion warmed the lonely heart of the ice prince' or some such.

And the ice prince himself... If Sasuke has any clue what he is or what he wants, he's so far gone in denial of anything resembling normal human desires that I'm not sure anyone could find the truth for certain.

And Kakashi was quite sure that no one could tell Sasuke that truth just yet, particularly if his truth was anything other than "yes, your destined goal in life really is to become the perfect ninja: an asexual killing machine whose lingering humanity is just a temporary and inconvenient distraction." The boy had some remarkable blind spots when it came to things like emotions and normal teenaged non-avenger lifestyles.

Granted, he had teenaged angst down in spades... but that was the onlynormal'> part of normal teenagerness he showed any grasp of. And Sasuke managed to take personal angst to levels most broody teenagers only fantasized about...

I'd hoped they'd sorted some of this out by themselves while we were gone. No such luck, I suppose.

Kakashi pondered this for several minutes, watching with mild interest as Sakura got the sole of her foot onto Naruto's face in further desperate efforts to pry him off.

Good to see she'd been keeping up with her stretches; flexibility and gymnastic talents were some of the best weapons in a ninja's arsenal...

...This is going to be unbelievably messy to untangle. Even for me.

So I guess that means I should drop the whole mess in Iruka's lap! I'll even get to watch him blushing and stammering and looking at me desperately to beg for help... mmm, Iruka with help-me-I-need-you eyes...

Yep, this sounds like a truly inspired solution.

Silently congratulating himself on his brilliant strategy, and following his students down the street from a distance safe enough not to let himself appear too connected to the ruckus they were raising, Kakashi made a mental note to make sure he didn't finish the night without acquiring a decent supply of sake. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.

---

Sitting on the sofa with his feet propped up on the armrest and a mug of tea rather precariously balanced on the sofa's back, Iruka sighed a little, staring through as much as at the pile of his students' homework.

Sasuke stiffened, but didn't speak. He'd apparently used up all his available vocabulary for the night, and was letting rigid tension and fierce scowls and the occasional monosyllable communicate whatever else needed to be conveyed. And he was taking his duty to keep Iruka from harm far too literally, in Iruka's somewhat tart opinion. The boy was studying a scroll while sitting crosslegged on the floor directly in front of the sofa, so that Iruka couldn't possibly put his feet down, let alone try something as daring as standing up.

Iruka shifted his weight awkwardly, trying to sit up a little straighter to ease the pressure on the small of his back. Sasuke lifted his head to look up at him, and then silently got a pillow off a chair and settled it behind Iruka's back, and sat down with his scroll to resume his guard duty.

Somehow, Iruka couldn't decide whether it was more endearing or infuriating. He dragged his attention back to the pile of student papers, checking each carefully written kanji for correct strokes and something approximating readability.

...Of course Megumi-chan has memorized the word for 'watermelon' stroke-perfect. Now if I can just motivate her to remember the difference between 'west' and 'four' -- how to get her to remember that 'west' is the first kanji in watermelon...? And that 'south' is the first kanji in 'pumpkin,' and that's the difference between how to write pumpkin and watermelon...

"Sasuke-kun?" Iruka asked, trying not to get his hopes up about the likelihood of a response. "When you were learning to write, how did your teachers explain the difference between 'west' and 'four' to you?"

He didn't look up this time. After a long moment's silence, he shifted one shoulder closer to his ear for a moment, a minimalist's shrug -- and still kept his eyes on his scroll.

"What are you studying?"

Sasuke hunched over it a little further, all but defensive, as though Iruka had been prying into his personal equivalent of Icha Icha Paradise -- but the covering on the scroll clearly declared it to be about ninjutsu, not hentai manga.

Both exasperated and amused despite himself, Iruka said, "This has really got to stop, you know. Would you please move just a little? I don't want to kick you in the face when I get up..."

"What for?"

"...eh?"

"What do you need to get up for?"

"I'd kind of like a snack..."

"I'll get it."

Feeling his cheeks warming despite himself, Iruka said, "I've also been drinking tea, and there's this extra passenger pushing down on ...places that really don't need any more pressure just now. And that one you really can't take care of for me..."

Sasuke finally lifted his head enough to blink up at him, completely lost.

With a groan, Iruka said, "The bathroom. May I please...?"

Blushing the color of an overripe beet, Sasuke scrambled away from the couch.

Iruka tried to keep some measure of dignity together as he not-quite-hurried toward the toilet.

When Iruka came back from his brief escape from supervision, along with a glass of milk, strawberries, and the peanut butter jar, he blinked in surprise at the almost-an-expression on Sasuke's face.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

You know, sometimes I wonder why I still bother to ask...

Iruka settled himself into the sofa carefully, so as not to spill the milk, and balanced the plate of strawberries carefully atop his bulge to free enough fingers to unscrew the peanut butter jar and dip the spoon into it.

He spooned some peanut butter onto a strawberry, bit into it with a small sigh of bliss, sipped at the glass of milk, and settled in to brood.

...He said he wished he'd never been born. He said he wished Itachi had killed him...

And I never suspected a thing. No one did. He's Uchiha Sasuke, the genius, the last of his bloodline in Konoha, he's the wonderchild, he couldn't possibly be hiding painful emotions behind that poker face... he works himself far too hard, he obsesses on killing his brother, obviously his life is fine since he's becoming a strong ninja and that's all that matters, isn't it. --What idiots we were, all of us.

But I'm sure Kakashi knew. This must be why he told me to talk to him... he wasn't kidding when he asked how long it would take to go through the list of Sasuke-kun's problems...

Iruka put a spoonful of peanut butter on another strawberry and bit into it, brows furrowed in concern.

And... the way Sasuke was talking about Kakashi and Naruto, and about how anyone could love them... he was so intensely, personally involved in that question... and in his own disbelief.

The three students of Group Seven couldn't have been more different if they'd had to be, really. Sasuke stood alone against the world, tall and rigidly proud, like an oak tree, strong and unbending. Sakura was a willow, outwardly pliant and graceful with a surprising inner core that flexed and bent under pressure but never broke. Naruto was a tumbleweed, scruffy and disreputable, rootless and wandering, and somehow completely indestructible.

And of the lot of them, the oak trees were the most brittle -- unable to yield, or to roll with the punches, with that fixation on standing in silent unshakable resistance, not flexing until they shattered completely under a bolt of lightning, swift, lethal, and utterly overpowering...

Sasuke needed to learn the willow's grace, or the tumbleweed's rootless tumbling survival; the world was simply too cruel for anyone to be able to stand against it alone, and if he didn't recognize that -- if he didn't recognize his own need for love and acceptance...

Iruka wondered, not for the first time, whether Sasuke might be gay. The young man had very little use for women and looked at Sakura strictly as a teammate -- of course, having seen how the poor boy had been chased around the streets of Konoha for years, being all but molested by overpushy kunoichi, Iruka couldn't quite blame him for a trained-in aversion to being stalked, groped, and squealed at.

But Sasuke seemed to have nearly as little use for most men... his actual respect was reserved for less than half a dozen people Iruka could name, most of whom were people who'd proven themselves to be strong or capable of training him.

Not a misogynist, but an equal-opportunity misanthrope...?

There was something between the boys of Group Seven, though. Something more than the name-calling and the withering contempt they admitted to aloud. A rivalry didn't last that long and grow that deep without either total spite or some sort of unspoken mutual understanding developing behind it. Sakura and her friend Ino were another prime example -- they fought like cats over the right to stalk the broody young Uchiha heir, but then they'd also lay their lives on the line for each other's sake, because before they'd been rivals in romance they'd been friends in everything else...

Neither of the boys would have named their relationship a friendship. Both of them were too touchily proud for that; they were polar opposites in too many ways, and far too much alike in others. But they'd worked together for so long, and they'd risked their lives for each other more than once -- immediate, instinctive, the kind of reaction that came with no hesitation at all. Either of them could have let the other die a dozen times over. But without the other as teammate-and-archrival, neither of them would have a standard to measure himself against...

...and still, somehow, thinking about the fierce desperation in Sasuke's voice as he'd asked how anyone could love someone like Kakashi or Naruto... as though he were asking himself more than Iruka...

And that odd tremor in the young man's voice as Sasuke told him that he would never be disgusting...

Emotions were clearly difficult for him to endure, and to express. Iruka could hardly blame him for that, given how many of his life's greatest emotional impacts had revolved around death, pain, and isolation. But the pattern that was forming itself in Iruka's mind was frightening to contemplate, and made far more sense than Iruka wanted it to.

Uchiha Sasuke. The last Sharingan heir in Konoha. All but compelled to renew his clan's bloodline -- which, until he saw me this evening, meant finding a nice woman who didn't try to stalk him and marrying her. And afraid of any human touch, because people you care about die on you and the rest try to hurt you... so he deludes himself with his 'mission,' because it's less risky. Physical pain he knows how to endure; but his emotional pain has never healed, and he doesn't even know where to begin.

So he isolates himself and calls himself an avenger, because it means he doesn't have to feel things for those around him; he doesn't have to feel anything beyond his need for revenge. If he keeps everyone else at arm's length, his contacts with others are restrained, distant, strictly under his own control... and control of everything is so important to him.

And love is the least-controlled emotion there is. It falls into your life and blows apart all your carefully-constructed safety zones; suddenly there's this other person living in your heart, bumping against painful things, hurting each other unintentionally as you learn how to share what used to be an isolated space inside, someone bewildering and precious and impossible to imagine living without-- your life is tangled into someone else's, and it's terrifying when you realize how deeply you depend on another person's presence, another person's joy...

Renewing his clan wouldn't necessarily have been a loving proposition for Sasuke. Iruka had far too little difficulty in imagining Sasuke choosing someone who was like Hinata -- someone quiet and inoffensive but strong beneath it, someone who would understand the need to bear children without protest since they were required of the Uchiha heir's wife, someone who wouldn't make emotional demands simply because of the technicality of marriage.

Iruka could never have lived a silent marriage of convenience -- he couldn't imagine his life without the vibrant, unpredictable, gleeful spark of Kakashi's exuberance dancing through each day. But he could imagine Sasuke taking care of his responsibility to produce heirs with that kind of emotionless dedication to duty... and telling himself that duty was all there needed to be.

That in itself, Iruka realized, was the essential core of the problem.

He tells himself what to do, what to think, what to feel. He tells himself he has to be fine alone, and so he lives as though he thinks he actually can. He tells himself he has to be an avenger, he has to be strong, he has to renew his clan. He lives according to what he tells himself he has to do.

And he's been doing it for so many years now -- ever since his clan died -- can he even recognize it anymore, if what he wants to do is different than what he tells himself to do? Or does he just make himself want to be what he tells himself to be, what he thinks he has no other choice than to become...?

It made sense. It made too much sense.

Uchiha Sasuke, the last bloodline-Sharingan user, had to be strong to avenge his murdered clan. And the last Uchiha had to pass on the Sharingan ability to children to prevent his gift from dying with him. Kakashi's Sharingan was a transplant; Kakashi's children would not inherit the bloodline, even if Kakashi could train Uchiha children.

But there had to be Uchiha children. The last Uchiha could not be gay. It was not permissible. Therefore, it was not imaginable. And anything that he might otherwise have felt would be pushed away into the corner of his mind that was labeled 'childish things' which he left behind when he became his clan's avenger.

He wouldn't even have admitted the possibility to himself -- he wouldn't have admitted that he even had desires, let alone desires contrary to his single unwavering goal in life.

There would be children. Therefore, there had to be a woman. Women could be endured, if he could find one who didn't irritate him with emotions and demands and needs. Anything could be endured. Anything could be endured because Sasuke told himself so. A life alone, a fated future, a loveless marriage for the sake of breeding Sharingan-bearing offspring -- being duty-driven to take all the agony he'd felt over years of struggling to suppress any gentler emotions and use that rage to strike down the once-beloved elder brother who had killed the rest of his family.

Anything could be endured; or else he would never have been able to live with the single goal of committing premeditated murder, to kill his last remaining blood kin with all the pain he'd gathered up over years of forcing himself to live the life expected of the last acknowledged Uchiha heir, rather than simply a young man named Sasuke who had once been a happy and loved child and who missed it desperately...

...Except that now, there was a possibility he'd never imagined in that preplanned, premeditated life. Now there was another alternative, for a boy who had learned to live with no alternatives to his chosen path for so long that even the thought of having choices like love and risk had shaken him to the soul this evening...

Specifically, the conscious thought of those choices had shaken him. Because when he wasn't consciously thinking like an avenger, Sasuke said and did some very un-avenger-like things. Risking his life for a loudmouthed rival, scolding his visibly pregnant teacher for moving a heavy desk; asking how people living through danger could love each other, as though he suddenly wanted, needed, to understand about how to be strong despite taking emotional risks like love...

Iruka jumped when one pale hand quietly set another plate of strawberries by his elbow.

"You're worrying again," Sasuke murmured. "Stop that."

Iruka realized a few minutes too late that he'd been just staring at his last strawberry for far too long. "I'm sorry! I mean-- I'm-- you didn't have to--"

"Don't apologize," Sasuke said, scowling more fiercely than usual. "And you're low on milk. I can get you another glass but that's all that's left. Is there a convenience store around here?"

"It's all right," Iruka said, feeling his cheeks burn. "I'll get more tomorrow morning."

"You've got three teenaged freeloaders taking up floor space," Sasuke said, sitting down to glare at his scroll again. "The least we can do is help with chores."

But, oddly, his dark eyes kept flickering up from the scroll -- glancing for brief, almost-involuntary moments at the strawberries; the pile of children's awkwardly and carefully written homework; Iruka's hands; the spoon standing in the peanut butter jar; the rounding, ripening girth that gently filled out the belly-panel of the overalls...

"Sasuke-kun?"

The boy's face colored, and he bent his head over his scroll again.

The trouble with his newfound guesses about the pain and duty-driven desperation hidden behind Sasuke's eyes, Iruka realized, was that all his guesses were theoretical. And general. And general theory did nothing to help him puzzle out whether Sasuke was now-fixedly-not-staring at Iruka's peanut-buttered strawberries in bewildered curiosity, stomach-turning bemusement, or an attempt not to burst into un-avengerly guffaws of hilarity...

Cursing his own blushes, Iruka tried to stammer through it somehow. "I know it seems strange -- Kakashi teases me all the time -- but really, it's just like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, only healthier. And... I need the extra protein in the peanut butter and the calcium in the milk, for the baby's sake -- and -- it just... it tastes good together, somehow; the peanut butter kind of glues itself to your mouth without milk or strawberries or something to unstick it with... I'm sorry, I'm babbling again. If it bothers you I can--"

"Stop that," Sasuke said, staring even more fixedly down at his scroll. The tips of his ears were pink. Oddly, it made Iruka feel better to know he wasn't the only one blushing.

"Sasuke-kun--"

"I don't want to talk about it. I've said too damn much already. Forget it. All of it. --And stop worrying!"

"I was just going to say thank you," Iruka said softly.

After a moment of rigid silence, Sasuke murmured, "You're welcome."

Iruka breathed a deep, careful sigh of relief, waiting for his heart to stop pounding in mad panic in his throat. He didn't run again. All right. I can do this. I can. Really.

And I'm going to wait a while before I ask anything personal, just in case.

But... just one thing...

"Sasuke-kun...?" Iruka took a rather unsteady breath, waiting for a reply; when none seemed forthcoming, he gathered what remained of his strained nerves and dove in headlong. "Wouldn't you rather sit on the sofa or..."

"Keep your feet up."

"...All right. I understand. I'm being good. But at least if you sat by the sofa, you could lean against it or something -- I mean..." 

Sasuke didn't even look up.

Iruka ran a hand down his face, and tried again. "My back always hurts, lately," he said, a little sheepish. "So I suppose I'm just oversensitized, but... you're sitting all hunched up and I can't help thinking... that your back must hurt... and..."

"And you worry about everything," Sasuke finished for him in an undertone. With a dark sigh, the boy picked up his scroll and sat down crosslegged in front of the sofa, his back to the sofa's front. "Happy now?"

"Almost," Iruka said. "Here." He took one of the pillows that had been propped under his ankles and fluffed it a little, then tucked it between the sofa and Sasuke's back. "Isn't that better?" he asked, wistful.

Sasuke made a noncommittal sound, and returned to his scroll.

The baby kicked and rolled inside, protesting the way she rested against Iruka's spine as he lay half-sprawled on the sofa; Iruka rubbed the softly swollen mound in the overalls with a bit of a sigh.

Not just yet, little one. I'll ask him if I can move enough to lie on my side a little later. I just don't know how much I dare to push without letting him settle down for a bit, you see...

And your idiot father is going to have a GREAT deal of apologizing to do if he wants back into our bed any time this decade. How long is he planning on leaving me alone with our own little avengerly time-bomb anyway? I'd swear he's got to be deliberately avoiding this discussion...

---

"Kakashi-sensei, I'm tired," Sakura protested. "We've been walking all day. And the last thing I want to do is get dragged around some strange village like a dog on a leash and have everyone think I'm actually dating this dork!" She gestured at Naruto, who was still trying to scrub Sakura's footprints off his face and grumbling loudly.

"Come over here a minute, Sakura-chan," Kakashi said, putting his arm lightly around the girl's shoulders and leading her to one side just outside Naruto's hearing range. Sakura glared up at him, with a clear expression of You'd better make this one a GOOD lie, you know.

"Like you said, this is a small, rather backwater village," Kakashi began. "They don't even have ninja. I'm not sure they'd recognize one if one bit them. And this is their big harvest festival."

"All the more reason not to spend it hanging out with him! We train together, we don't have to be joined at the hip or something."

"But I thought he'd come in handy," Kakashi said helpfully.

"For what?"

"Someone's got to carry all the shopping bags, you know."

Sakura blinked. Then blinked again.

"The harvest festival," Kakashi said again, patient. "When everyone's collected up their arts and crafts and their grandmother's favorite jelly recipe and brought them here to sell and trade. They don't have stores with things like shuriken and kunai. That means your souvenir-shopping options are going to be limited to the more mundane things."

Sakura's eyes were enormous green pools of rapid-fire recalculation. Just to make certain the hook had set, Kakashi planted another 'thoughtful suggestion'.

"So that means this weekend's festival is going to be one of the best shopping opportunities you're going to get. I thought you might like to take advantage of being here on the first day, before everything gets picked over--"

Sakura wasn't even listening anymore; she'd latched onto Naruto's elbow despite his yelp of astonishment, and was dragging him down the street.

"S-s-sakura-chan...? Wha--?!"

"Come on, we're going shopping!"

"Shopping?!"

"Just think of it as an almost-date, remember?" Kakashi called. "You do what your date likes to do to keep her happy, right?"

"...Oh yeah! Er-- ehehehe...." Naruto managed to get his feet back under himself, so that he was trotting along rather than being dragged; he even managed to nerve himself to say, "So where do you want to go shopping first, Sakura-chan?" 

And that should take care of quite a few more hours...

---

Iruka looked up from the last of his students' papers in surprise at an odd grumbling sound. When Sasuke ducked his head further in scalding embarrassment, Iruka realized it must have been the boy's stomach.

"...Oh, that's right -- you never did eat any of your ramen! How thoughtless of me -- you've been traveling for days, I should have made sure you ate something more than tea -- I'll..."

"Sit," Sasuke said. "Stay there."

"But..."

"I said stay there."

"Sasuke-kun, I appreciate your concern, but I am not going to spend the next three months lying on this sofa," Iruka said firmly. "Now, if you aren't planning to tie me to the furniture-- and I certainly hope you aren't--"

"I'll get something for myself," Sasuke said, almost desperately, and bolted for the kitchen.

With  another small sigh, Iruka took the opportunity to stand and stretch and rub his aching back; the milk glass needed washing too, and so he followed Sasuke into the kitchen, rather more sedately.

Sasuke flinched at the sound of footsteps, and closed the refrigerator hastily.

Bewildered, Iruka asked, "What's wrong with looking in the refrigerator for food?"

The boy groaned and knocked his forehead against the refrigerator door, then opened it and grabbed some things completely at random and shut it again.

Iruka blinked at his collection. "Er... Sasuke-kun...?"

Sasuke looked down at his hands -- a jar of kimchee, a package of cream cheese, raspberry jam, hot dogs, and a half-empty can of baked beans -- and then he said defensively, "I'll think of something. Go rest!"

A little nervously, Iruka asked, "Is there something with fangs growing out of a mold patch in there?"

"...Huh?"

"I can't think of any other reason you'd be so determined to keep us both from looking into the refrigerator."

With a sigh, Sasuke slid down the edge of the counter, landing on the floor with a thump. "...It's nothing. I'm just too damn selfish."

Iruka sat on his heels by the huddle of Sasuke-angst, now completely baffled. "Why on earth do you think you're selfish? Of course I'm going to make sure you eat dinner! If we were in your house, you'd do the same."

"It's not that." Looking away fixedly, Sasuke murmured, "They... smelled really good. Your strawberries, and the peanut butter. But they're yours-- they're your special treat, for the baby, so I'm not about to--"

"Is that all?" Iruka reached over and cuffed him across the head, just hard enough to ruffle his hair. "Strawberries grow, Sasuke-kun! We've got half a freezer full of them and Kakashi keeps a dozen pots of the things growing in our windowsill just to make me blush. Honestly, you find the most amazing things to torture yourself with--"

"You're serious?" Sasuke asked, almost startled. "I mean, if it was Naruto and his ramen I'd be bleeding by now -- and everyone says pregnant women and cravings... er... --I think I'd better shut up again."

Iruka laughed, and ruffled his hair. "Be glad it's not Naruto and his ramen, or the village might not survive the brawl! But as long as you're not planning on eating every strawberry in a ten-mile radius, I'm sure I can manage to soothe my cravings. And if you think you'd like peanut butter with them, they're really, really good dipped in chocolate... I just don't let myself think about that too often, or I'd be twice as big around by now!"

"Really?" Sasuke looked a little skeptical. "They aren't too sour?"

"That's what makes it wonderful," Iruka said, wistfully. "Especially dark chocolate. So the strawberries taste even sweeter by comparison with the almost-roasted chocolate flavor -- and then the chocolate starts melting in your mouth, and it's silky and creamy and a little tart from the strawberries and..." He stopped quickly, and shook his head to try to clear out the images before his body managed to convince him that he needed chocolate-covered strawberries. Right then.

"But peanut butter is healthier!" Iruka told himself as much as Sasuke, rather more firmly than usual. "More protein and minerals for the baby. So I should..."

Sasuke's head and shoulders had vanished into the pantry, though. When he came back out, he had a bag of semisweet chocolate chips in his hand. "Will these do?"

Iruka stared, swallowed hard, and looked away. "...But we need to make you dinner."

"All right," Sasuke said, and grabbed something apparently just as random out of the freezer. "I'll cook something. Go rest again."

"Sasuke-kun," Iruka said, trying not to let his eyes focus on the bag of chocolate chips, "you are not going to cook something with kimchee, hot dogs, raspberry jam, baked beans, and frozen edamame!"

"You don't want to watch this, then," Sasuke replied, opening the jar of kimchee. "And you won't need to, if you're in the living room resting like you ought to be. Right?"

"Uh... right." Iruka turned and made a beeline for the sofa again, trying hard not to think too much about the possible combinations there. But it was a little like trying not to think about pink elephants. Raspberry kimchee hot dogs with edamame? Or raspberry baked beans with -- urgh, no, don't go there...

And they say the pregnant women are the ones who eat the strangest food combinations in existence... how many teenaged bachelors have they interviewed...?

Sasuke watched his teacher leave, smiling just a little despite himself. As soon as Iruka-sensei was safely out of eyeshot, most of the ingredients went back into the refrigerator; the kimchee stayed out, though, and he grabbed a packet of noodles from the pantry to make Korean-style beef udon.

The chocolate chips stayed out too. As he waited for two pots of water to come to a boil, Sasuke pulled one of the cookbooks off the shelf and started flipping through the recipes.

---

"Sakura-chan, aren't you done shopping yet?" Naruto wheezed, staggering as he struggled to keep a grip on five boxes and nine different shopping bags all at once. "What does anybody need this much stuff for?"

"Souvenirs, of course!" Sakura sniffed. "Mom's always wanted a new rice cooker with a handle for picnics, and Ino-chan would never forgive me if I didn't get her that purple dress, they don't make that color of dye anywhere but the Wave Country, and of course if I'm getting something for Ino-chan I've got to get something for Hinata-chan and the rest of the girls from our class too, and--"

"Wait a minute. Does that mean I have to buy stuff like this too?"

"That's why they call them souvenirs," Sakura said. "Hasn't anyone ever come back from a vacation and given you souvenirs?"

"No," Naruto said.

Sakura's eyes widened for a moment. "...No?"

"Iruka-sensei doesn't go many places 'cause of all the teaching and doing paperwork all the time, and nobody else would bother," Naruto said. "Oh yeah. Once Iruka-sensei gave me this paper pine tree thing when he came back from somewhere. But I think it was supposed to make my kitchen trash can not stink. Is that a souvenir?"

"That's a hint about your housekeeping," Sakura said with half-lidded eyes. Something else settled itself into place behind her eyes, and she nodded to herself firmly. "All right. Somebody's obviously got to teach you how to shop!"

"Er... do you have to?"

"Of course! Everyone has to know how to shop!" Sakura rubbed her hands together. "Okay. Who do you want to buy souvenirs for?"

"...Iruka-sensei and Kakashi-sensei and you and that bastard. And maybe the Hokage." Naruto scratched his head, then nodded. "Yep. I'd buy Iruka-sensei some good beef ramen. --I don't know about the rest of you. I'm not old enough to buy the kinds of books Kakashi-sensei wants."

"Beef ramen doesn't survive in a suitcase very well," Kakashi observed thoughtfully.

"And Iruka-sensei's here!" Sakura added. "And so are we."

"Yeah, but Iruka-sensei's not here here." Naruto juggled bags to free up a finger to scratch his head. "You mean it has to go in a suitcase?"

"Souvenirs are things you take back from the place you visit, for the people who aren't there to see it with you," Kakashi said. "It helps if they're transportable."

"Hmmm..."

"Don't worry about us," Kakashi said, rueful. "We're here to see it too, remember? The Hokage might like something, but the rest of us can find our own souvenirs."

"But I wanna get a souvenir for Iruka-sensei to make sure I did it right, since h- I mean-- she! She -- since she's gotta babysit the bastard and everything! Since Iruka-sensei's a she now, and getting all pregnant and stuff... yeah!" He shot a victorious look at Sakura and added, "See, I remembered!"

Sakura had her face in both hands and was whimpering slightly.

Kakashi silently nudged "large quantities of alcohol" higher up on the shopping list. If nothing else, the bottles could be used to knock Naruto over the head with.

"So if I can't get Iruka-sensei ramen... hmmmm..." Naruto set down the bags, plonked down in the middle of the road, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully with one hand. "What else is there to get h-her? I mean, saying 'no ramen' ought to be against the rules or something!"

"Surely there's something else you think Iruka-sensei might like."

"But nothing's as good as nice hot steaming ramen!"

"So let's go for second-best," Sakura said gamely. "What's second-best to hot ramen?"

Naruto rubbed his chin again, and then brightened. "Instant ramen! You can fit a whole lot of that in a suitcase! I'm a genius!"

Sakura threw both hands into the air, said to Kakashi, "You handle this one, I give up," and stalked off down the aisle of shops and stalls.

Kakashi sat on his heels by Naruto, and said, "Let's think creatively here. What do you think Iruka would really adore, but would never think to buy for herself?"

Naruto scratched his head, tipping it to one side and the other, then squinting up at the sky, then heaving a huge sigh. "I would've said a baby, except s-she's like already taking care of that part."

"Not to mention that you can't buy babies," Kakashi reminded him, silently regretting that Sakura had had the reflexes to dump this project on him before he could dodge.

"Oh yeah, that too I guess..." Stumped, Naruto propped his chin in both hands. "I know h-she reads a lot. Except s-s-she's got so many books I don't know all their names."

"You could get her a book to read to the baby," Kakashi suggested.

Naruto brightened for a moment, and then slouched again. "But s-... she won't be able to use that for months and months."

"I wouldn't say that," Kakashi said, wryly. "Some nights, Iruka reads to the baby anyway. It's not silent inside her, you know. Just like you could hear my heartbeat if you listened -- the baby can hear things outside too. Iruka says the baby always starts to kick whenever the alarm goes off in the morning."

"Really?" Naruto's eyes were as wide as saucers. "...You're not lying again, are you?"

"I've felt it," Kakashi said, smiling at the boy's amazement. "I tell her that's how we know absolutely for certain he's my child."

"Huh?"

"Who else would father a baby that hates alarm clocks so much before he's even born?" Kakashi chuckled. "Iruka tells me if the baby runs too late being born, she's going to strangle me just on principle."

Naruto had a rather goofily fatuous grin on his face. "...Kakashi-sensei, that's just plain cool. Can I read something to the baby too?"

"If you ask nicely, I'm sure Iruka would be delighted," Kakashi replied, trying not to let himself look too sappy at the thought. The mask really was handy sometimes. "So shall we go find a b--"

Sakura shrieked at the top of her lungs.

On pure reflex, both of them had sprinted half a city block in less than two seconds, and skidded to a halt staring first at Sakura, then at each other.

"Isn't that just adorable?" she squealed, latching onto Kakashi's arm and pointing into a game vendor's stall at a fluffy little stuffed blue-and-green dolphin, with bright sparkling eyes and a happy mouth open in a dolphin-grin that looked as though it was meant for "life is good," or "I want fish," or possibly both.

"That's perfect," Naruto said, elated. "That's what I'll get for Iruka-sensei!"

"Hold it, I thought you were getting a book to read to the baby," Kakashi said.

"This is better!"

"I know. That's why I want to get it for her," Kakashi retorted.

"Hey! I saw it first!"

"Sakura-chan saw it first."

"I don't care, I'm still getting it!" Naruto crossed his arms in preparation for a good sulk.

"Only if you can beat me at -- ...what is this game anyway, Sakura-chan?"

"--My presents! Naruto, you IDIOT, you FORGOT MY PRESENTS!" Sakura wailed, dashing back up the street toward the abandoned pile of shopping bags.

Naruto blinked, then yelled after her, "That's because you were screaming your head off! Jeez. See if I come running the next time you scream like that--"

Kakashi, meanwhile, was talking to the game-stall dealer. "So what would someone need to do to win a prize at this anyway?"

"It's just a ring toss game where--"

"--where he's gotta beat me first!" Naruto cut in, glaring at both of them. "Okay, so what's the rules here again?"

---

Iruka couldn't resist a half-unwilling, half-morbidly-curious glance toward the contents of the steaming bowl Sasuke brought back from the kitchen. It smelled spicy, and there were noodles and less identifiable vegetables and peppers swimming around in the broth -- but, mercifully, there were no signs of raspberry jam, baked beans, or cream cheese anywhere, so Iruka breathed a great sigh of relief and let himself relax.

Sasuke just quirked a brow, humphed a little, and sat down crosslegged by the sofa again. If Iruka hadn't known better, he would almost have been tempted to call the quirk at the corner of the boy's lips a wannabe-smile.

The silence was almost companionable this time; Iruka had curled up on his side to comfort the baby's protests of the pressure of his spine, and now that the papers were all graded, his eyes were beginning to gradually drift closed at the soft chirping of the crickets outside and the occasional drift of cooler night air through the August-hot house.

So the chime of the kitchen timer twenty minutes later startled him back from the edge of almost-sleep; Sasuke just waved a hand. "Perfect timing," he said, taking his empty bowl back to the kitchen. There were some rattling sounds, dishes being rearranged, and a muffled half-curse, and a metallic clunk, and then a series of softer, unidentifiable noises. Just when Iruka's curiosity was starting to nudge him enough toward waking to contemplate getting up to investigate, Sasuke came back with two plates...

...full of chocolate-covered strawberries. They must have just come out of the refrigerator; the August humidity was beginning to bead on the chilled chocolate, and a trickle of dew dripped down the side of one, and Iruka made a small involuntary whimper.

Then he blinked and scrubbed his eyes, because Sasuke had actually smiled at that. "Are they really that good?" the boy asked, wry and a little wistful.

"Yes," Iruka said, one hand over his face. "And Kakashi already fed me two scoops of ice cream and I've been snacking on peanut butter all evening, and I can't just--"

"Today's a festival." Sasuke sat down in front of the sofa and set one of the plates right under Iruka's nose. "Besides. If you don't eat them, how am I supposed to know if I did them right?"

"...Trust me. You did them right."

"So eat them." Sasuke picked up one of his, looked at it with just a bit of lingering skepticism, and bit into it.

The sweet tang of the strawberry mingling with the rich chocolate widened his eyes for him, and the boy hastily cupped a hand under the other half of the strawberry so as not to lose any of the chocolate flecks or berry juice; he chewed and swallowed with a look of utter astonishment on his face.

"That's... that's just..."

"Decadent?" Iruka suggested wryly. "Spectacular? Ought to be outlawed?"

"...Any of the above." Sasuke finished his first strawberry and licked his fingers, then took another. "Go on. Eat."

"I've been eating all evening--"

"I made those for you," Sasuke said. "And if you don't eat them they're going to melt. And if you let something like this melt, I'm going to have to hurt you, Iruka-sensei."

With a shivering sigh, Iruka picked up one of the berries and closed his eyes and bit into it, making a soft, involuntary sound of pure bliss. Just one. I'll put the rest back in the refrigerator for tomorrow. Naruto and Sakura-chan would like them too...

...well, maybe just two...

---

After spending forty-five minutes waiting for Naruto and Kakashi-sensei to get done with their no-holds-barred ring-toss duel over the plush toy, Sakura groaned and dropped her bags at Naruto's feet and said "Don't forget them this time, got it? I'm going to finish shopping, I'll be back for you two idiots later... I'm sure you'll still be here."

Honestly. Men. You'd think there was only one cute little stuffed dolphin on the planet.

...Although it was incredibly cute...

Still. Going to those lengths was just ridiculous. Particularly when they were supposed to be undercover!

Sakura wondered in frustrated resignation whether there was even anyone in this town who would believe her if she asked the authorities to break up the ninja ring toss duel before it got into higher-level jutsu.

So far they'd stuck with kawarimi and other low-noticeability swaps, either trying to improve the aerodynamics of the "rings" they were throwing or to sabotage the other's rings. But knowing Naruto, it was just a matter of time until he decided that if throwing one ring at a time was good, throwing three hundred and fifty clones of it at a time must be even better, at which point Kakashi-sensei would likely feel compelled to preserve his chances by either blocking the target with an earth wall or by nabbing the prize and making off with it directly, and from there...

...men! Honestly!

She'd have to have a good gripe session with Iruka-sensei later. Iruka-sensei would understand.

Only when she was halfway back with another pair of dresses did she remember, Oh yeah, Iruka-sensei's a man too.

Kind of. Technically. He used to be, anyway.

...But he just doesn't count. And I've got to have somebody sane to talk to in this town or I'll just go ballistic. I wonder if Iruka-sensei would mind being my honorary girl-talk girlfriend for a while? I'm sure he needs someone to complain to about Kakashi-sensei; anybody would need someone to complain to about Kakashi-sensei... not to mention Naruto...

There was an all-too-familiar howl from Naruto, and Sakura knotted both hands around her bags and stalked back toward the combat zone.

---

Iruka stared in dismay at the nibbled stem of the last of the chocolate-covered strawberries, then sighed and put it on the plate with the others. I didn't mean to eat all of them...

I'll have to apologize to Naruto-kun. Of course, knowing him, he'd be happier with a bowl of ramen anyway...

Sasuke was watching him again, with something completely unreadable in those dark eyes.

"...Have I got chocolate on my face or something...?"

"No."

"Oh." Iruka sighed deeply, one hand resting against the curve of his abdomen. "You and Kakashi, honestly... I must have gained five pounds just today."

"So?"

"I don't want to get fat..."

Sasuke snorted. "You're going to get fat whether you like it or not. You might as well enjoy it."

"That's not what I mean," Iruka said, face burning. "I mean... I know I'm... going to be... I'll be very big, by the end. But I shouldn't gain too much that's not for the baby -- I'll need to lose all the extra weight in about a month, I mean, I can't exactly wear maternity dresses when we get back to Konoha, and I can't afford to buy new chuunin uniforms just to be fat for a couple of months, particularly with the baby to feed, and..."

"You worry about everything, don't you?" Sasuke said, incredulous.

"You angst about everything, so I'd call us even," Iruka said, a little sulky. "And I'm serious. I've got to try not to gain too much--"

"No you don't. How many times have I got to tell you to stop worrying?" A little husky-voiced, the boy added, "You shouldn't think of things like that. You should just... revel in this. In your child. In peace, and joy, and... and in the pregnancy. Because none of it lasts. Don't waste a time like this, Iruka-sensei. Just be happy while you can. The rest of us will take care of everything."

"Kakashi told me the same thing this evening," Iruka murmured.

"Kakashi-sensei is a genius, after all."

Iruka chuckled a little. "Because he gives the same advice you do?"

Was that actually a grin tugging at the corner of the boy's lips? "Of course," Sasuke replied. "I'm a genius too, you know."

"Since so many geniuses have told me so, then I'll try to worry less," Iruka said with a smile, reaching over to rumple the boy's hair a little. "But in return, will you do something for me? Since you're taking care of things?"

Sasuke nodded. "Come to the manor when we get back to Konoha. You don't need to worry about buying anything."

"...what?"

Sasuke's voice was almost steady. Almost, but not quite. "My uncle Sakaki was about your height. He always wore formal  crested kimono. He was... Family pride was important to him. So there are dozens of his kimono in... in the attic. You can wear them. The handy thing about kimono is that as long as the height is right, the waistline is adjustable... and..." Sasuke bent his head a little, and said, "And it's not like he needs them anymore."

Completely overwhelmed, Iruka whispered, "Sasuke-kun..."

"They're all marked with the Uchiha mon, though," Sasuke murmured. "Do you mind?"

"Mind? I'd -- I'd be honored, if you thought it wouldn't shame your family's symbol-- if you wouldn't mind me wearing them--"

"Some things are more important than traditions," Sasuke said. With a little bit of difficulty, he added, "I think... seeing you smile as you wait for your child to come... that's one of them."

Iruka couldn't even find his voice, let alone words to speak with.

Sasuke cleared his throat, and fixed a good solid glare on his teacher. "So NOW will you stop worrying about having eaten those strawberries?"

"Yes," Iruka choked, embarrassed at the way his voice was breaking. "Thank you. You didn't need to offer something so important, and I'm... grateful, overwhelmed..." He scrubbed a hand across his eyes hastily, trying not to embarrass them both with tears. "And that wasn't at all what I was intending to ask of you!"

"So what were you going to ask?" There it was again -- a glimmer of something that might almost have been a smile: "More strawberries tomorrow?"

"No." Iruka gulped, and tried to keep his voice steady. "No, I wanted to ask... if you could try to trust us a little. To trust that it's all right to be happy. Not to be afraid of the times when things change..."

"I'm not afraid," Sasuke said. "That's just how the world is."

Iruka sighed a little, and said, very carefully, "You said that you'd wished your brother had killed you too--"

"I said too damn many things," Sasuke said, reddening a bit with frustration. "Just forget it."

"But you never say anything lightly," Iruka replied. "Sasuke-kun--"

"Not tonight," the boy said, a little desperately,  almost begging. "Just... not tonight. We've been walking for a month. I'm worn out. I'm saying stupid things. --Some other time, all right?"

"All right," Iruka said, gentle. "But if you ever want to talk about anything, Sasuke-kun, I promise I can stop lecturing and listen."

"...I know." Sasuke picked up his scroll and sat with his back to the sofa and pillow again, clearly trying to end the conversation before it could go into even more uncomfortable territory.

Iruka struggled with himself for a long minute, then finally gathered the nerve to reach over to stroke the boy's hair lightly, just for the contact. Sasuke stiffened at the gentle touch; but when Iruka held his silence, Sasuke began to relax a little. Iruka wasn't sure whether the boy was enduring it or enjoying it; but as long as he didn't pull away, it was good enough for tonight.

---

The little stuffed dolphin which had been the source of such fierce and prolonged combat was now happily peeking out of the collar of Kakashi's turtleneck.

But Naruto was happily skipping along the road with another little plushie in his hands -- an even littler bright-eyed snuggly dolphin that was the same coloring as Kakashi's. They were a matched set, mama and baby.

"...Still think mine's cooler!"

"Honestly, you idiots, why didn't either of you ask if there was another one an hour and a half ago?"

"Training," Kakashi said sagely. "Can't let our target skills go to waste, even in such a sleepy little town..."

"Hah!" Sakura had bought a little toy wagon, both to give to the new parents for their baby and to be able to keep protective watch over her purchases to prevent the shopping-impaired twits from abandoning them again. "You're such a liar, Kakashi-sensei. What on earth makes Iruka-sensei put up with you?"

"Unbelievable, phenomenal, mind-blowing sex," Kakashi answered promptly.

Sakura turned distinctly green.

Naruto was spluttering. "...Auughh! Too much information... did NOT need to imagine... just... auugghh!"

"She did ask."

"So can we go home now?" Sakura asked.

Kakashi glanced up at the position of the moon, considering.

Not even midnight yet. There's no way anybody, even Iruka, could've psychoanalyzed Sasuke into something resembling sanity already. And I still haven't gotten my hands on any alcohol.

"If you want to have an early bedtime, kids, I suppose Iruka can tuck you in," Kakashi said ever so helpfully. "Me, I'm going to enjoy the best part of the night."

"But all the shops are closed," Sakura said.

"But the bars aren't!" Kakashi turned to Naruto and said, "Shall we let Sakura-chan go home and have ourselves a men's night on the town?"

Tiredness was obviously losing the battle with being-seen-as-grown-up-ness in Naruto's spiky blonde head. "Heck yeah!"

"No, no, no, no," Sakura said, eyes enormous. "No way am I leaving the two of you to get drunk in a town that's not Konoha!"

"Great, then that makes three of us!" Kakashi said blithely. "Come on."

"Wait, I didn't say you could--"

But Kakashi and Naruto were already halfway up the street. 

"...oh, hell!" Sakura hastily put a leash on Inner Sakura, grabbed the handle of her wagon, and hurried along after them.

---

Omake Theater

This is extra stuff, the chapter ended up there. Please skip the rest if you don't like these, but I couldn't NOT put this in since Ciarann sent me my first ever fanart because of the omake pre-chapter 20!

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Side Effects, Chapter 21

One cultural note: In Japan, if you sneeze when you don't have a cold, they say someone's talking about you. And oh yeah -- I didn't make up any of the lyrics cited below; they're all real songs! Citations at the end to keep from revealing my hand too soon...

Now, hazard alert: Rantage in effect up front. I may repost this chapter later without the rantage when I've had some time to recuperate, but right now I just have to get this off my chest.

If you're NOT responsible for the hair-tearing "update now kthxbye" reviews and email I've been getting, go ahead and skip down to the story, and you have my eternal gratitude for showing comprehension of the realities of life. And compassion for someone who's overworked to the point of screaming. If you left a comment that's not just "update now already", I seriously thank you. It's been a sanity-helper to read reviews that talk about your reactions to things, or even just reviews that express some kind of understanding for the situation I'm in at the moment.

But I literally walked away from my computer for four hours today after reading the last couple little "update!" 'full stop, no compassion, no attention paid to the fact that I've explained in the past three things I've posted how much my life sucks right now, nope, just just a flat out ORDER' reviews, because I couldn't trust myself to be coherent afterwards.

If you're not responsible for those, let me thank you again.

For those who ARE responsible:

You literally wouldn't believe the three months I've just had, and it's not over yet. To top off the work insanity, I haven't had a full weekend in my town since midMay and I won't have one until midJuly; I'm trying to finish this off from 180 miles away when I should be sleeping since I've got a 3 hour drive back home, and I'm NOT happy about the "update now kthxbye" comments I've been getting for weeks, including last night/today when I was up past midnight working on this damn thing just to shut people up. I've tried explaining everywhere I possibly legally can that sometimes my actual paid work just takes over. I don't like it any more than you do. In fact, I probably like it less, considering I'm the one who's living through it. But some people apparently take it like a personal affront or a duty I've failed in when I don't post another chapter in a timeline they expect.

For Pete's sake, I have a more than full time job and sometimes it BITES. Too many people completely fail to understand that fanfiction does not pay the bills and has to take second place to real life sucking.

I'd rather have enough free time to breathe, sleep, and write for fun. I DON'T. Deal with it. Whining at me does NOT make me update sooner. It just makes me tear my hair out in doubled frustration that I can neither have time to write nor have understanding of that from people who think that fanfic is their God-given right. Most of the time it makes me take longer to update, because I see these when I've just sat down to write again, and then I have to walk away and destress before I put a fist through the screen. My work life has had me tied into stress-knots for months already. I don't need it in my 'recreation' too.

I really wasn't planning on ending this chapter on a cliffhanger. But I'm too damn sick of it right now to stay up past midnight again to finish this chapter the way I was intending to, so guess what... I'm just getting the thing out of my hair tonight, while I can, because I cannot deal with another two weeks (at least) of random whining before I have any time to work on it again.

(End rant. For a while. At least, until the next time some preteen starts whining about 'you haven't updated for too long' with no comprehension of the fact that adults have responsibilities... I could wish it's not going to happen again, but unfortunately I don't have that much faith in humanity anymore. Not after three sets of explanations, ravings, and outright pleas for people to stop it, which have all been blithely ignored...)

(by the way, FreckledGlasses, this ISN'T aimed at you -- you left the most detailed review I've ever seen, for which I thank you, and I could tell that the whip-crack at the end was a joke! I do have a sense of humor. Sometimes. When my brain isn't fried all to hell. It's just the rest of the whip-cracking that has me beating my head against the wall...)

Okay, the story section starts below the horizontal rule here. And before anyone gets on me about the length of the author's note/rant, this note is one page out of THIRTY. According to Word's stats, I've been working on this chapter for over twenty-eight hours in the past months, and this is the181st revision. I'm not kidding. I don't blow things off for the hell of it. I work on these. When real life permits, that is. And sometimes it just doesn't permit. So I'd greatly appreciate it if people would stop demanding updates or implying I'm being lazy or the rest.  --Damn it, begging for comprehension has never worked before, I don't know why I'm bothering. I give up...

---

The bar was like a hundred other bars in a dozen other cities; but Naruto stared around as though it were some sort of seedy run-down paradise for a somehow elite group of drunks and tired-out salarymen joined by their common recognition as Adults.

The barkeep had looked at him suspiciously when he brought a couple of teenagers in, but Kakashi had blithely lied about their ages. Naruto stood up straighter and tried to lower his voice, and Sakura was too overcome with horror to protest beyond a few incoherent squawks.

Better their first time with me than with barely-met teenagers in a strange town that doesn't need to know about Konoha's secrets, Kakashi thought to himself. Eventually, a combination of peer pressure, alcohol, and Naruto's sheer thoughtless braggart tendencies would let something slip that shouldn't have. Sooner or later, they're going to have to learn about drinking. I'd rather have them learn under supervision, and I'm not so sure I trust Satori's boyfriend.

Iruka would say it should have been later, of course. Iruka would have let them wait until they were our age. But if they're old enough to die for the village, they're old enough to drink. Let's see whether they've got any kind of sense about it.

And, really, if three years in life-and-death situations haven't made them honest enough with themselves or with each other to have the kind of conversation they've been needing, then let's try a little selective chemistry...

Kakashi was vaguely surprised that it only took a beer and a half for Sakura to pick up the karaoke list, trip the next person swaying in line for the microphone, and plant her foot on top of the speaker like an overenthused king-of-the-mountain.

"Oi, Sakura-chan--"

Sakura was so much in the habit of ignoring Naruto that she didn't even blink. The microphone squawked a bit as she held it too close and proclaimed to the entire bar, "I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life!"

She tapped in the song number, and Kakashi bit back a sigh at the opening chords.

You know, I could feel sorry for Sasuke.

Naruto slid lower in his chair with a groan, thumping his head back against the wall to make it hurt less than what was going to be coming next. "Kakashi-sensei..."

"Everyone gets their turn at the microphone, Naruto," Kakashi said, sipping at his own beer. "Karaoke is the great equalizer. Music unlocks the key to what your heart most wishes to say... and it doesn't matter how much you can or can't sing, particularly after a couple beers or some sake. We're her teammates; the least we can do is listen."

"I don't want to hear it," Naruto grumbled, staring at the way a bead of condensation was trailing its way down the side of his mug.

"So maybe you should look for a song that says what you want to say," Kakashi suggested, pulling one of the song lists across the table.

With a heartfelt sigh, Naruto started morosely flipping through the song lists. 

Sakura tossed her hair back over her shoulder and planted a dramatic hand over her heart as she started to sing:

"Every breath you take, every move you make, every vow you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you. Oh, can't you see? You belong to me. My poor heart aches with every step you take... "

Naruto beat his head against the wall a couple more times just for good measure, and whined, "Kakashi-sensei~~!"

Kakashi just sighed, sipping at the beer again.

Yep, open the music box of Sakura's heart and you find the Ultimate Obsessed Stalker song. Poor, poor Sasuke...

---

Leaning against the pillow in front of the sofa, his hair still wet from the bath he'd taken, Sasuke sneezed abruptly despite the warmth of the evening. Iruka blinked at him over the top of a book on educational theory.

"I can close the window if you're chilled--"

"Not in this weather." The boy scratched the tip of his nose and heaved a sigh. "Where are those idiots? Nothing's open anymore, not in a town this size."

"I'll bet Kakashi and Naruto both decided they wanted the same prize at the fair; they're probably still dueling it out somewhere," Iruka said with a matching sigh.

"...Hmph."

That really was a useful word Sasuke had there, Iruka thought to himself, flipping another page.

---

About two and a half beers later, Naruto was fuzzily trying to narrow down the list of 'he's such a bastard, why don't you love me instead' songs he was trying to select among. Sakura had given up on him entirely and had stolen the microphone to serenade the universe again, considerably more off-key by this point:

"Every little thing that you have said and done feels like it's deep within me. Doesn't really matter if you're on the run, it seems like we're meant to be. I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you've done, as long as you love me..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know," Naruto hollered toward the stage and shoved the song book under Kakashi's nose again. "What about this one, huh? Maybe she'd get the idea if I sang this at her?"

Kakashi blinked down at the page in some bemusement.

I saw you standing alone with a sad look on your face. You call him on the phone, looks like he left you without a trace. Tears falling out of your eyes, he's living in a disguise, you've been feeling bad for so long you wonder if it's right or wrong. Why do you want him? Why do you want him?

"Well, that gets to the point," Kakashi admitted, "but it's kind of... how do I put this... blunt as a sledgehammer between the eyes?" He rubbed his chin for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's about it."

"Not everyone reads thirteen layers into everything, you know!" Naruto grumped. "Besides, it's like she hasn't gotten the message yet or something. I gotta do something more wake-up-and-smell-the-coffee at her, don't I?"

"That might have something to do with the fact that she doesn't want the message," Kakashi observed. "Look, stop worrying about Sakura's songs. Why don't you find the song you want to sing? Something straight from your own heart. Something about what you feel, not what someone else ought to feel."

Naruto heaved another huge sigh, and kept flipping. "Yeah, well, what about you, Kakashi-sensei?"

"Me? Oh... I know a lot of songs." He took another carefully staged sip of beer; neither of the kids had noticed that he hadn't finished his first yet, and he planned to keep it that way as long as possible.

"Yeah, so which of them are you going to sing?"

"Hmm, let's see..." He trailed off, scratched his head, flipped a couple of pages in the song book, and let the silence hang until Naruto forgot he'd asked the question.

---

Iruka blinked his way back to a fuzzy semiconsciousness at the rustle of fabric, a light tickle, a vague awareness of gentle hands at his shoulders... Sasuke was tucking a sheet over him; Iruka yawned and rubbed at his eyes, trying to sit up straighter, but the boy fixed a dark-eyed glower on him.

"If you want to get up, you'd better be heading toward your bedroom and your actual bed. Otherwise, go back to sleep."

"But I want to--" It was embarrassing to have to stop for a jaw-cracking yawn, but when he could breathe again, Iruka continued determinedly: "I want to wait up for them. --Not least because Kakashi owes me quite an explanation about why they're coming home this late at night!"

"Go to sleep," Sasuke said again. "I can keep watch for you."

"You've had a long day too," Iruka said, and then held up a hand when Sasuke took a breath to growl. "All right, all right, I'll take a nap for a bit... shall we trade shifts later on?"

Iruka could practically see Sasuke testing the shape of that in his mind, between the not-quite-hidden delight at his teacher offering to treat him as an equal, and the even-less-hidden calculation of  if Iruka-sensei falls asleep I might just 'forget' to wake him up. Which was an admitted risk, of course, but at the moment it also looked to be losing the battle in Sasuke's honor system with but Iruka-sensei trusts me, I should prove I'm worth it.

After another round of rapid-fire silent calculation, Sasuke nodded with all the gravity of a grandfather four times his age, and he tucked the sheet more carefully around Iruka's shoulders. "I'll wake you if they come in, and I'll take first watch."

As though it were a military operation of some sort, Iruka thought, privately amused.

Then he thought about the range of potentially painful instruments he'd been contemplating bringing into the 'conversation' he was going to have with his lover, and silently revised his assessment again: all right, maybe it does qualify for a military operation, at that.

Iruka settled down and tugged the sheet up closer to his nose to try to pass for sleeping, and to try to hide his expression in case he got too bloodthirstily aggravated while itemizing the full and complete list of sins Kakashi was soon to be taken to task for. (The fact that he had to keep itemizing for quite some time also did little for the 'relax and sleep' idea, but a great deal for the 'planning a not so covert military assault' one.)

Sasuke, he suspected, wasn't fooled in the slightest; the boy kept glancing up at him, and so many years of communicating with monosyllables had left him with a remarkably expressive sigh. This particular sigh translated itself quite clearly into obviously, getting older does NOT make you more grown up. It was followed by the all-purpose 'hmph' of yes, I really am surrounded by idiots after all.

Iruka was too busy blissfully contemplating Kakashi's screams of agony interspersed with pleas for forgiveness to take the time to be amused by Sasuke, though; he made a happy little sound and snuggled further into the sofa, wringing the sheets between his hands and testing their potential for use as a garrotte.

---

Flushed with success, Sakura danced back to the table, plopped back into her seat, and drained the rest of her beer, then dragged the back of her hand across her mouth: "wheeee~~!"

Leaning a little harder on the table than she meant to, she reached over and poked Kakashi in the shoulder. "You go sing too! You brought us here, you go sing something!" She plucked the song book out of Naruto's hands and dropped it in Kakashi's lap.

"Hey!" Then Naruto blinked a couple times, and said again, "Hey!" Pointing at Kakashi with an indignant finger, the little blonde complained loudly to Sakura, "He told me he was gonna tell me what he was gonna sing but he never did!"

"That's why you keep poking him until you annoy him so much he surrenders," Sakura said loftily. "You're good at annoying people; you know that."

"Really?" Naruto turned an ear to ear grin at Kakashi. "Hey Kakashi-sensei! Sakura-chan says I'm good at something! That's progress, right?"

Kakashi opened his mouth, closed it, sighed deeply, and buried his face in both hands. "...I suppose by some definitions, that could be considered progress, yes."

Right about then, precisely what Sakura had said he was good at soaked through the beer filter, and Naruto turned around so quickly he wobbled in his chair. "...Sakura-chan!"

Sakura was writing Sasuke's name in the beer rings on the table with a damp fingertip. "But it's far and away your best talent," Sakura said, with a sharp quirk at the corner of her lips. "You can annoy anybody! That takes a natural-born talent for irritation!"

"Aw, jeez! Sakura-chan--" It was obviously taking a lot of work to come even that close to howling the roof down like normal, though. Apparently beer hit him more as a relaxant than as an agitator, or at least in this quantity, Kakashi noted to himself.

Naruto struggled with summoning up more indignation to protest and whine further, then sighed and slumped forward and leaned both elbows on the table. In an unexpectedly quiet voice, chin propped on his crossed arms and staring at nothing, he asked, "What's wrong with me?"

"...Huh?"

"If you liked me even a quarter as much as you like Sasuke, I'd be so happy I'd explode or something," Naruto mumbled, staring into their empty beer mugs. "And Lee practically worships the ground you walk on. What's wrong with people who like you? Why have you got to keep running after that ice-cold bastard who doesn't pay any attention to anyone unless they kick his ass first?"

"But he's Sasuke," Sakura said, as though that were all that needed to be said.

"But I'm asking about me. Is it because I'm the kyuubi?" he asked. "Is that why you can't stand me?"

Sakura just blinked at him, jaw hanging slightly open.

With a hiccuping, almost tearful half-laugh, Naruto said, "Never mind. I don't want to know if it's not 'cause I'm the kyuubi. Because if it's not, then you just hate me because I'm me, and that's worse."

He looked around for a mug that still had anything in it, spotted Kakashi's, took it, and drained it in one long swallow, choking a little by the end of it. "...hey, Kakashi-sensei, does this stuff actually help...?"

"Usually not," Kakashi admitted with a sigh, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Then why do people bother?"

"Because after a few, they kind of forget that it doesn't help, generally."

"...I want another."

"All right," Kakashi said, and started to stand up; but Sakura stood so quickly she almost unbalanced the table.

"I'll go get them," she said, and all but ran for the bar.

---

And then I'm going to wrap this around his neck and tie the other end to his ankles and pull, and that's when I'll ask him 'So what exactly WERE you doing keeping two underage children out until--' what time is it now? Long past midnight, I'm sure-- that thoughtless, irresponsible, infuriating, always-late--

"Iruka-sensei?" Sasuke asked, barely looking up from his scroll, but his voice sounded a little pained anyway. "What are you doing?"

Iruka looked up from his wish-fulfillment sheet-strangulation of a throw-pillow and blinked a little -- then realized approximately what it had to look like. He dropped the pillow hastily, feeling his cheeks burn. "Er... that is... um... Sorry about that, Sasuke-kun."

"It's a little disturbing when you're killing the furniture in effigy and chortling under your breath," Sasuke said, rather grumpily. "You're the sane one. Remember that part? ...er ...you are the sane one, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," Iruka said again, feeling very silly. He sighed and punched a fist into the sofa back just to try to relieve the pent-up frustration. "What on earth are they doing this late at night? I'd have thought at least Sakura-kun would have been rational enough to drag them home by now!"

Sasuke was clearly exhausted, because he actually laughed a little... except that the sound held no mirth at all, only fatigue.

"'Sakura' and 'rational' are not two words I would have used in the same sentence," he said. "But then, having been monomaniacally stalked for years does tend to warp my perceptions a bit."

"She... er... she's not that bad, is she?" Iruka managed.

Sasuke's face tightened, and he looked away.

"Sasuke-kun?" Iruka asked, beginning to be alarmed. "If... I mean, she's your teammate; if it's that difficult for you..."

"I've lived with it for this many years," he said dully. "I'll survive."

"Only 'survive'...?"

"I'm just so damn sick of it," Sasuke murmured. "I don't know how to tell her I'm sick of it. I never asked to be the trophy handed out in her little who's-sexier competition with Ino. I'd have liked to be asked my opinion. I'd have liked the opportunity to have an opinion. But instead I woke up one morning and found myself being used as the human rope in the middle of their private ego-boosting tug of war..."

"...Oh."

Iruka bit down hard on his first impulse to try to defend the girls; there would be time enough for that tomorrow, and what Sasuke needed tonight was someone to listen to his feelings, in the rare window when he was tired enough to admit to them and they had privacy enough to make it possible to put aside that touchy, brittle teenaged-boy pride.

I told him I could stop lecturing and listen; it sounds like he's taking me at my word. I'll just have to make sure I don't look too surprised that he's taking me at my word...

Into Iruka's silence, Sasuke murmured, "She treats Naruto like he's something to be scraped off her shoe, in order to try to win points against Ino in their childish little duel. So Naruto's set his second-greatest goal in life to humiliate me, because she chose me instead of him. And I never asked them for any of it."

Digging a hand through his hair, Sasuke leaned back on his elbows and stared tiredly up at the ceiling.

"They'd just as happily use one of my clones if it came with bragging rights to the Uchiha clan name and Sharingan eyes," he mumbled. "No, actually, they'd probably prefer one of the clones, because Naruto could 'kick the bastard's ass' whenever he wanted to prove something to Sakura, and the girls could tell it to do whatever they fantasized their dime-store-romance-novel hero ought to do. They'd all be happier."

"You really think so?" Iruka asked, a little wistful.

"Of course they would. Particularly the girls; at least Naruto expects a challenge, instead of an obedient doll to dress up." With a short, sharp laugh, Sasuke added, "Besides, with a little adjusting, the clone could be taller. I'm sure Ino would appreciate that. I never fit the 'tall' part of the 'tall dark and handsome' requirements."

"They don't seem to mind," Iruka offered.

"No, they don't, and I wish they did! If they did I could at least get a break from their obsessive little spotlight! ...I've never been any good at playing the whole stupid romance game. You'd think they would have noticed by now, but apparently they're too fixated on the idea of 'what they want me to be' to notice who I am... If Sakura wanted a person for who he is, she'd have taken Lee-kun one of the first thirty times he threw himself at her feet. He's a better human being than I'll ever be. But they don't care who I am; they're fixated on what I am, the name and the damned too-pretty face and the bragging rights, so completely shallow..."

Iruka tried to think of something helpful or listening-leading to say, but all he could manage was, "I'm sorry."

Sasuke shrugged a little, a stiff lift of one shoulder, and stared down at his scroll again, but Iruka doubted he was actually seeing the words; Iruka picked up a handful of his students' papers for much the same purpose of camouflage, and shuffled them at random every once in a while, still startled that Sasuke had said as much as he had.

And then the key clicked into place.

He can talk to me, the way he couldn't talk to Kakashi, Iruka realized. I'm not competition. Not now, not like this.

Sitting here grading children's papers, in a woman's body, so bulgingly pregnant at him-- there's no way I'm any kind of competition. I have his respect as a former teacher, but I don't threaten him, because we both know there wouldn't be any question of who'd win. So he doesn't have to pose, and I don't have to push. I just had to wait long enough.

Damn it, Kakashi, couldn't you have mentioned that part of the 'why' a few hours ago? Before I put him in a panic, trying to pry out his hurts so I could bandage him up before he was even willing to admit to being hurt?

Iruka bit his lower lip hard to keep from sighing aloud. In hindsight it was blindingly obvious that he hadn't given Sasuke's prickly teenaged ego time to work out the way their status has changed... he just could have used a little more foresight. When Iruka had first become Sasuke's Academy teacher, Sasuke had been so young that a fully trained adult man like Iruka was unimaginably strong -- which made him someone to be strong in front of, someone to try to impress.

And most of that old power-positioning had been turned on its head... in the space of one moment's shocked realization.

He'll always be younger, he'll always have been my student, so it unnerves him to realize what else has changed. He's become stronger than I am -- particularly now, particularly when I'm like this -- and so now he doesn't have to defend himself against my strength by keeping up the facade of his own strength. He never had to in the first place, but he would never have believed it. So I couldn't just tell him that. I had to wait for him to realize it for himself.

--And I needed to acknowledge it when he kept trying to demonstrate it. With the berries, the tucking-me-in, the little gestures that said 'look, I'm grown up, I can take care of people too. See how grown-up I am? Acknowledge me. Recognize that I'm stronger, that I'm taking care of you... see?' Like a wolf cub that's testing out his territory under an elder's watchful eye...

Because the one who wants to be the alpha wolf can only admit pain to someone who's weaker. Admitting pain to a rival is revealing a weakness that can be exploited. I had to wait for him to truly style='font-style:normal'>realize that I'm not a rival, that I have neither the ability nor the intention. That I won't challenge him if he admits to me that he hurts. Because he's grown up alone, in a pack of rough-housing ninja students, without parents to remind him that it's all right to be vulnerable and cared for... at least I had my parents long enough to be able to remember that.

And I am still his former teacher. Nothing's going to change that, and he feels it as a potential challenge. He's still reassuring himself that I won't take advantage of a moment of his weakness and use it to make him submit to being coddled like a child again.

Iruka sighed despite himself. Was I ever that young, or that teenaged, or that touchy about trying to become the alpha wolf of the pack? I hope the Hokage didn't laugh too hard...

...And damn it, Kakashi, you knew it wasn't going to occur to me! You set me up to make him miserable on purpose. Naruto's always been happy in his little-brother role with me, it wouldn't even occur to him to try to take a dominant role simply because I look female and pregnant now. And Naruto would never have to feel safe in a dominant pose before he could admit to me that he was hurt... couldn't you at least have mentioned that part of it?

But then, you couldn't have gotten your kicks knowing we'd both be writhing in misery, even if you weren't here to watch it. You're sleeping on the couch for at least a week, you smug insufferable ass...

Iruka hid a covert glance at Sasuke under the guise of more completely pointless paper-rustling.

...He still has something he wants to say. His shoulders are practically up around his ears; he's tied himself in knots trying not to say it.

But I'm a chuunin, and I taught him when he was barely old enough to hold a kunai. Strength isn't the only path to a victory, after all. Stealth has got at least as much going for it.

One of us is going to outwait the other one; I've got to win this time. In just this one small, silent duel, I've got to outmatch him, for his own good...

It must have been almost half an hour later when Sasuke finally broke.

He took a too-deep breath and struggled with it for a long minute before he finally whispered, "Iruka-sensei?"

"...Hmm?" Iruka put the papers aside and looked up, trying to keep himself outwardly calm, even as he inwardly braced himself for whatever Sasuke might say next.

It took the boy a couple of tries to find his words again, and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"What's it like... to be loved for who you are?" he murmured, staring fiercely down at the scroll. "To... to be loved for who you really are? Not your face, not your bloodline, not your family name or your inheritance or what someone can get from capturing you, just... being loved... for yourself...?" He blinked at the scroll, and added in a whisper, "I can't even remember what it felt like..."

Iruka couldn't have forced words past the knot in his throat if his life had depended on it; instead, he reached over and drew Sasuke close enough to hug, hoping the gesture might in itself go some small way toward answering the question.

He was more than half expecting Sasuke to pull away; but instead, after a moment's hesitation, the boy's arms crept about Iruka's waist and clung tightly.

And then a moment later he jerked away as though burned: "I'm sorry-- I wasn't thinking--"

"Come back here," Iruka said tartly, and pulled Sasuke into another slightly awkward but heartfelt hug.

Sasuke was painfully careful with his hands this time, taking too much care not to put any pressure on Iruka's rounding belly; he knotted his hands in the fabric between Iruka's shoulderblades instead.

Iruka silently held him, and rubbed his back, and didn't say a word when the boy's breath caught too raggedly, or when something warm and damp and suspiciously like tears trickled down the curve between his throat and his shoulder. Sasuke's hair was still damp from the bath, it could have been a stray drip or two; at least that would give him a way to salvage his pride if he needed one... particularly to himself.

Iruka knew Sasuke would likely never forgive him for noticing something like that, something so vulnerable and human; as soon as he regained that frigid control, likely it would be a while before Sasuke could even forgive himself for allowing himself such an emotional release. But in the meantime, it was late at night, dark and quiet, and no one was there to point or mock, and Sasuke was simply exhausted from the years of walking his chosen path completely alone even amid his teammates; and so Iruka held their silence as carefully as he held the boy himself.

---

It took Sakura far too long to bring back three beers. From the way she was swaying as she carried them back to their table and set them down with a thump, Kakashi suspected she must have gotten herself something a little stronger at the bar, borrowing a little courage from a bottle for the conversation she was bracing herself for. Naruto blinked up at her blearily at the thud of the heavy mugs.

"Don't take this the wrong way and I'm only going to say it once," Sakura said, leaning hard on the table. "I don't hate you. I... I... oh, hell..."

She drank half of another beer at one go, and landed in her chair rather more abruptly than she'd intended, but at least she managed to stay in the chair, which surprised Kakashi more than he'd have admitted. Naruto was still gawking at the sight of Sakura chugging a beer. She set it down far too carefully, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and took a deep breath.

"I don't hate you, you're kinda entertaining to have around. --Sometimes. Sometimes. When you're not being a total uncool loser. Which isn't all that often. But I don't hate you. I kind of..." She rolled her eyes and grabbed Naruto by the collar and tried to get it all out in one breath.

"I-kind-of-like-you-except-NOT-THAT-WAY-so-don't-you-DARE-take-this-wrong-and-if-you-ever-tell-ANYONE-I-said-I-like-you-at-all-I'll-break-your-stinking-neck-you-annoying-little-runt-but-anyway-I-said-it-so-there!"

Even Kakashi found himself blinking at that one.

Naruto hiccuped a little and tugged on Kakashi's sleeve. "Wha'd she say...?"

Sakura beat her head against the table, then sat up and propped her head in both hands. "I don't hate you," she muttered. "You're kind of the annoying little brother I never had, but if I did have one, you'd be him. Except I don't. But it's almost like I do, 'cause it'd be you if it was anybody; it just wasn't. Got it?"

Naruto blinked at her a few more times. "Whaaaa-'?"

Sakura tried again, a little desperately. "Like how pineapple isn't really pine-ish or apple-ish, but it's something, and it's just... like... it's just pineapple, right...?"

"You probably shouldn't have drunk that beer so fast, you know," Kakashi observed.

"No, really, he's a pineapple!" Sakura said, thumping one hand on the table for emphasis. "He's all bristly and spiky an' stuff. An' yellow. And he's... like... kind of sweet inside, sometimes, except for when he's green and sour and crunchy and what the hell is it with that orange jacket anyway? Anyhow... it's like... he's got good parts if you can just figure out how to get at them, but most of the time you end up like chewing on a mouthful of rind and you go 'why do I even bother?' Except for the parts when it's worth it..." Sakura blinked, and dropped her head forward on the table. "...Never mind."

"But... but... Sakura-chan... that was NICE!" Naruto said, sniffling a little and scowling fiercely at an inoffensive beer mat to keep from blubbering. "...Except for when it wasn't, I mean. Other than when it was mean, it was, like, nice..."

"But Mom is going to kill me if I tell her 'I think I have an almost little brother and he's a pineapple!'" Sakura wailed.

"I'm sure that would come as something of a surprise, yes," Kakashi agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself.

Sakura ran a hand down her face, and thumped her head against the table one more time for good measure. "What's wrong with me?" Sakura groaned.

Naruto rubbed his chin. "You're drunk?" he guessed.

"I mean aside from that!" She waved a hand in the air as though shooing away insects. "And I'm not that drunk. I mean why doesn't Sasuke love me...?"

"'Cause he's a bastard," Naruto said, then hastily ducked a swing from an empty beer mug. "Oh, you mean aside from that too? Er..." He scratched his head, then offered, "'Cause you haven't kicked his ass?"

"But... but... why would Sasuke love me if I could kick his ass?"

"'Cause that's the only way to make him do what you tell him to?"

Kakashi hastily choked down a mouthful of beer to keep from spraying it across the table in a fit of badly-timed hilarity. You know, kid, you have no idea how much you hit the nail on the head there...!

"But I shouldn't have to tell him to love me!" Sakura wailed. "I'm gorgeous and I'm smart and I'm wildly in love with him and it's like he doesn't even notice!"

"Like I said, he's a bastard," Naruto said with a shrug, using both hands to get the beer mug into the vicinity of his face again.

"...That's not helping, you moron."

"I'm not a moron; I got a great idea! You could fall in love with me! I know you're gorgeous and smart and all that stuff!"

Sakura sniffled, and wiped her eyes on the corner of her skirt, and said, "But you're not cool."

Naruto toppled over backwards and landed on the floor with a thud.

"Sakura-chan, that was just cruel," Kakashi observed mildly.

"But he's my pineapple," she said, waving a hand. "I mean, you just don't think about kissing pineapples or little brothers. It's just... all prickly and ewww and... stuff."

From the floor, Naruto asked groggily, "So if I was Sasuke instead of a pineapple, you'd think about kissing me?"

"But you're not," Sakura said, with the tactless logic of the well-intoxicated.

"I can fix that." He blinked at his hands to make sure he could focus on them, then started shaping seals.

Kakashi scooped him on the floor, deposited him on his chair again, and thumped him on the back vigorously, making sure the jutsu-cancelling ofuda he'd hastily slapped in place was thoroughly attached to Naruto's jacket.

"Forget it," Sakura said gloomily. "You couldn't be Sasuke even if you looked like him. You don't brood and glare and ...well, all right, you glare, it's just all in-your-face instead of dark-romantic-angst... and... you just couldn't. You're just too much you."

Naruto finished his own beer far too quickly, and then pushed the empty mugs out of the way to beat his head against the table.

Kakashi put a hand on his shoulder, a little alarmed. "Hey. Don't break the table, they'll make us pay for it if you dent it."

With a groan, Naruto left his face planted against the wood of the tabletop, and his voice came out somewhat garbled by mumbling through a beer mat. "Beer duzzn' help af'r all."

"Not really, no," Kakashi agreed.

"...So I ha'n't drunk enuff yet to frogit it duzzn' help..."

With a huge sigh, Naruto let his head roll to one side, ending up with his cheek in a puddle of spilled beer, and apparently not even noticing. "Kakashi-sensei...? How come I can't just be Sasuke instead...?"

"Sasuke couldn't be you either, you know," Kakashi observed. "He doesn't have it in him to be so vivid and outgoing."

"Yeah, but he'd never need to want to! Everybody loves him already! And I can't even pretend anybody 'cept Iruka-sensei loves me, and that's different anyhow..."

"What about Hinata-chan?" Sakura asked, chin propped in one hand.

Naruto gave her a look that suggested she'd just grown a second head. Although, Kakashi reflected, if his eyes were starting to lose focus, then in his line of sight she might well have.

"What about Hinata-chan?" Naruto asked. "The poor kid practically jumps out of her skin whenever I look at her sideways! And it's like I'm torturing her when I try to talk or anything..." Naruto heaved a huge sigh. "I dunno what I did to scare her like that, maybe she thinks 'cause I'm the kyuubi I'm gonna rip her head off or something."

Sakura's jaw hit the table with a thud.

"I try to be nice, I really do, 'cause she's a sweet kid and stuff, and sometimes she actually manages to talk a little without stuttering -- so I try to be nice and not scary and growly and stuff, I really do! Except then she always freezes up and... I don't know. I can't ever do anything right, can I? ...no, wait, don't answer that. I know. I'm not bloody bastard genius Sasuke, I'm just the village screw-up, of course I can't do anything right. Dammit, I know that already..."

"You don't destroy everything you touch, you know," Kakashi observed. "The table's still in one piece, after all."

"Ha ha so very much ha," Naruto mumbled, head in his hands, then heaved another sigh. "I need more beer, it hasn't all gone away yet..." And he pried himself off the table and wobbled towards the bar.

Sakura smacked a palm into her face with a groan. "Kakashi-sensei, how do boys get to be that stupid?" she demanded. "Naruto hasn't got a clue she's got a crush on him, Sasuke hasn't got a clue I love him... come to think of it, you and Iruka-sensei are both m--" She stopped herself short and clamped both hands over her mouth hastily, remembering Iruka's jutsu. "...Anyway, how did the two of you ever manage to get together...? Iruka-sensei seems, like, practically more clueless than Naruto about romance stuff..."

"Simple," Kakashi said, with a sip of his beer.

"Simple?" Sakura blinked up at him with wild hope shining on her face. "Simple enough I could do it to Sasuke?"

"Well, that depends..."

"What did you do?"

Kakashi's visible eye arched up into a happy grin. Playing with drunk people was so much fun...

"Teased her mercilessly for months," he said brightly. "Then I hog-tied her with her own headband and dragged her off to a hot spring and stripped her naked and got out the edible soap and--"

"EDIBLE SOAP~~?!"

Heads turned all over the bar at that.

Her face a brighter red than her dress, Sakura let out a yelp and slid under the table and hid there whimpering while Naruto wove his way back through the crowd with another beer. He put it on top of the table very carefully, then bent his head under the edge of the table to blink at Sakura.

"What about edible soap?" Naruto asked fuzzily.

Sakura's response was nearly incoherent, involving much whimpering and the phrases "didn't need to imagine," "such a liar," and "except I can see him trying to--" followed by more whimpering and several more iterations of "bad mental images! bad!"

Naruto blinked a couple times, propped his chin on the edge of the table, and asked his far too smugly grinning teacher, "What'd you do to Sakura-chan?"

"Who, me?" Kakashi tried innocently batting the eyelashes on the one visible eye. It must not have worked very well; Naruto looked like he'd just bitten into a sour pickle that squirmed and was trying to decide whether or not to run screaming.

"...Never mind! Need more beer," the boy decided with a shudder, and picked up his mug very carefully.

---

After a while, Sasuke had pulled away of course, and it had taken a long time for him to stop storming around the house doing whatever growling and sulking his pride considered necessary for the reassemblage of his usual "I'm cold and surly and completely independent, no seriously, I am, and stop chuckling right now dammit" image.

Iruka didn't try to disturb him this time, simply waiting for the boy to stop pacing circles around the floor and glaring out the windows and muttering scathing things under his breath about idiot strays without the sense to come home for the night.

Finally, done with his prowling, Sasuke had plonked himself down partway across the room and settled in to smolder and be desperately angsty and superior and irritated and not a lonely child at all thank-you-very-much. But he'd left his scroll in front of the sofa, and when he got done with his "I don't care if you're watching me, see how much I don't care if you're watching me, I'm all tough and grown up dammit, see?" fume-fest, it was rather dull with nothing to do beyond trying-not-to-look-like-posing posing.

Carefully nonchalant, as though the boy were actually some undomesticated and touchily proud wild animal, Iruka reached down and patted the sofa cushion that was still propped there waiting for Sasuke's back to settle against it.

Sasuke stiffened and looked away with a little 'hmph.'

Iruka didn't say anything, quietly flipping through his grade book to review his notes on the students whose papers he was rereading for the fifth time, in an effort to look inoffensive and non-dangerous and revoltingly domestic.

He was, he had to admit, quite good at it. Looking non-threatening was one of the most potentially dangerous tactics in a shinobi's arsenal -- and Iruka had been chosen from the entirety of the village to be the one who taught future ninja the very foundations of their art. He would never have been appointed if he hadn't mastered those foundations to the point where they were nearly as simple as breathing.

Of course there was no question of who would win if he and Sasuke faced off in a match of pure strength... but in a match of  the arts of ninjutsu, the ones involving psychology and subtlety, Iruka had the unfair advantages of both years of training and years of life surviving the relentless smirking psychological warfare which was Kakashi on the prowl.

Making a small sound of surprise, Iruka looked down at the gentle bulge in the overalls, and smiled, and patted the baby-roundness with a tender, affectionate hand. The little gasp had been completely calculated; in truth, the baby was peacefully settled into the curve of his hips, rocked to sleep by the gentle rise and fall of Iruka's breathing, but Sasuke didn't know Iruka wasn't being kicked at the moment. Iruka didn't need to look up in order to feel Sasuke's eyes, all his attention focused on the idle pat-pat, pat-pat of that light, lovingly parental hand.

The boy swallowed hard. Still gently smiling down at the sleeping curve of the baby as he patted that drowsy rhythm, Iruka thought to himself, I wonder if this counts as abuse of power? I know I'm taking utterly shameless advantage of my condition; the poor boy honestly doesn't have a chance... it's not fair at all, really.

It was only a matter of time until Sasuke had inched over to the sofa in the not-quite-movement of a stretching cat, trying hard to look like he wasn't moving at all, and certainly not in response to a manipulative temptation. No, cats went precisely where they wanted when they wanted, on their own time, and the availability of a human's fingertips to provide ear scritches were completely not part of the consideration. Pillows and quiet, family-gentle company were just as irrelevant to the Broody Avenger as ear scritches were to a cat. So was the scroll. Completely irrelevant. Sasuke just happened to find himself sitting by the sofa again. That was all.

Iruka kept reading, trying not to let himself smile too much.

---

By the time of the last call, none of the other bar-goers were feeling foolhardy enough to try to pry Sakura off the karaoke system; she was sprawled on the floor half-propped against one of the speakers, the microphone in one hand and a beer in the other. She growled wordlessly at anyone who came too close between songs, flipping pages with a toe until her eyes blearily focused on something she wanted to sing to Sasuke, no longer caring that he wasn't there to hear it.

"You took your coat off and stood in the rain; you were always crazy like that. I watched from my window, always felt I was outside looking in on you. You were always the mysterious one, with dark eyes and careless hair; you were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care. Then you stood in my doorway, with nothing to say besides some comment on the weather. Well in case you failed to notice, in case you failed to see-- This is my heart bleeding before you; this is me down on my knees..."

Kakashi sighed to himself a little, and finished his second beer.

I wondered how long it would take her to strip away enough layers to come to this level of honesty with herself. Too bad Naruto's not coherent enough to be listening to lyrics anymore...

Naruto was face-down on the karaoke book making gargling half-snoring sounds. Kakashi put a hand on his shoulder and shook gently.

"Naruto-kun? It's last call for beer; they'll be closing soon."

"Bu' I still haven' foun' a shong..." When Naruto sat up, one of the pages was beer-stuck to his cheek; he peeled it off gingerly, and his eyes vaguely struggled to focus on the page, more habit than anything.

...And then Naruto's eyes lit up like... like...

After some consideration, Kakashi realized he'd last seen that sparkle-sparkle-fizz-flare in a package of recently-lit high explosives prepped to level half a city block. The bar table was clearly not going to be enough protection, and he wondered in some alarm whether the walls would even be standing afterwards.

"Naruto--"

The boy gave the most unholy cackle he'd heard since Orochimaru.

Maybe this beer thing hadn't been that great an idea after all. Cautiously, Kakashi felt the 'tone' of Naruto's chakra... swaying and flaring with the relaxant effects of the alcohol, but not crimson-tinged from any strain on the kyuubi's seal; so what on earth...?

Kakashi managed to keep his voice fairly steady as he asked, "Naruto, what the--"

"I found MY SONG!" Naruto crowed at the top of his lungs, and began to stagger a not-at-all-straight line toward the karaoke machine and Sakura.

In half-horrified bemusement, Kakashi found he couldn't look away from the brief, loud, and ugly battle over the microphone. Naruto won, not surprisingly, but Sakura was vicious when drunk; he almost wondered if this was an avenue to pursue in training, then shuddered at the thought of having to deal with this again.

Naruto punched numbers on the karaoke machine, chortling with maniacal glee, then announced into the microphone, "This is the song I've wanted to sing my whole life! This is MY song!"

And he jumped up on top of the speakers and started head-banging to the opening chords of a tune Kakashi had never heard before.

There might have been something intended for a melody at some point, but it was hard to tell between the electric guitars and Naruto's top-of-the-lungs, give-it-your-all-and-then-some style of far too overexcited cover music:

"FIVE FOR A DOLLAR! COOKS IN THREE MINUTES! TASTES GREAT! ODE TO RAMEN! ODE TO RAMEN! ODE TO RAMEN! ODE TO RAMEN NOOOOOOOODLES~~!"

...There was a horrible electrical squerch.

Sakura was leaning against the wall with the power plug in one hand, eyes shadowed, panting with shaking horror.

Naruto's eyes vanished into slits.

"MY SONG~~!"

With an incoherent howl of rage, he jumped for Sakura and the power plug.

Kakashi decided that the "forcefully apply skull to hard horizontal surface, repeat until it stops hurting" prescription for drunken karaoke survival really did have its good points after all. It was doing wonders for his own state of mind so far.

Purely as a humanitarian gesture, he pushed the beer mugs off the table and onto the floor in order to have more surface area available for beating suffering fellow patrons' heads against, in case the drunken bar-wide brawl in the making decided to keep spreading. Really, putting them out of their misery was a blessing at this point, and he saw a recognition of that in the faces of some of the glassy-eyed bottle-wielders who were heading his direction.

Kakashi was fairly sure they'd thank him for it tomorrow -- provided he survived that long, of course. He wasn't worried about the drunks in the least. Iruka's temper, on the other hand... taking the kids to karaoke was one thing, but bringing them home after a bar brawl was something rather else...

"GYARRGGH~~!"

Kakashi sidestepped neatly, twisted the bottle out of the drunk's hand, and planted another skull firmly against the Merciful Table of Blessed Oblivion.

"Yes, I know," he said to the now-limp body sliding to the floor. "At least for you, the suffering's over with for a while. Why do I have the feeling mine's just started...?"

"rrrrAAAGGGHHH--Aiyeeee~~! Ow ow ow ow--" thud

"...And pleasant dreams to you too."

---

More than half asleep, barely holding on to a handful of children's papers which were nearly ready to slip out of sleep-lax fingers, Iruka was slowly called back to awareness by a sense of warm, firm pressure against his belly. It wasn't precisely uncomfortable, just unfamiliar; he blinked, and rubbed his eyes.

Sasuke had fallen asleep where he sat; his head had dropped backwards to rest against the convenient mound of the baby-bulge. He looked far younger in his sleep, unguarded and nearly wistful, and Iruka found himself almost afraid to breathe lest he disturb the boy and shatter that completely unselfconscious gesture of trust.

...He'll have a terrible crick in his neck tomorrow.

But...

Awkwardly, hesitantly, Iruka tried to shift his hips forward on the sofa a bit, so that he could make the baby's roundness a slightly more comfortable pillow, at a slightly less clumsy angle; he froze when Sasuke made a small groggy sound. But then the boy twisted in his sleep, hooking an elbow up onto the sofa and nestling his cheek against Iruka's fullness with a little sigh, and he dropped back into a deeper sleep.

Tentative, almost timid, Iruka brushed a stray lock of dark hair from the boy's eyes; when he didn't stir at the soft touch, Iruka let himself relax a little, and stroked his hair with a careful, light hand.

...So you do still trust, sometimes, despite it all? I'm glad. I'm sorry that no one was there for you, for too many years. But I'm honored that you trust me enough to let yourself sleep, that you'll let me be here for you, even just tonight... even if you'd grumble and sulk and glare at the suggestion that you might want or need the attention after all.

Just for tonight, little one, let yourself rest, and let me take care of you too. I know you and Naruto fight like cats and dogs; but the fact that Naruto has a special place in my heart doesn't mean that you can't also have your own special place, if you'd let yourself want it.

Sasuke snuggled a little closer, with a soft little sound of contentment, and Iruka smiled and let his hand rest gently atop the dark silky rumple of the boy's hair.

He'll bolt the moment he wakes up, of course, Iruka thought ruefully. But at least I can enjoy it while it lasts, for the both of us.

There had been several groups of loudly still-partying festivalgoers returning to their homes along the road that led to the schoolhouse; it sounded like there was another group of them on the way. Most likely a group of three; at least, the two who were singing the same song had chosen wildly different keys to sing it in, and the third was on some other song entirely...

Sixty-five bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-five bottles of beer--

Oh, I really should have known by the time you drove me home--

­--pass it around, sixty-five bottles of beer on--

-by the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes...

"...Hey wait, we already did sixty-five, didn't we?"

"Who cares? --PASS IT AROUND, SIXTY-FIVE BOTTLES OF--"

"No wait, I know we did sixty-five!"

And the other singer was loudly off in her own little world: "By the chill in your embrace, the expression on your face, that told me: Maybe you might have -- Some advice to give --On how to be -- Insensitive..."

With horror running frigid fingertips down his spine, Iruka realized that he knew those voices.

"Imbeciles," a still-sleepy-voiced Sasuke muttered from the floor. The boy dug a frustrated hand through his hair, then stood and yawned and stalked over to pull the door open before they could even knock.

Unfortunately, Naruto's fist was on autopilot. And aimed for a point on the suddenly-removed door which lined up right about the center of Sasuke's nose. The impact was enough to rock Sasuke's head back for him... but not for long.

Iruka buried his face in both hands, because it was far too late at night to be able to deal with the inevitable end of the chain reaction.

Based on the yelps, squawks, thumps, bangs, and a shatter or two, Iruka guessed that Naruto had ended up inside the building -- just not by walking. Ricocheting, maybe; 'bouncing off the walls' seemed an even more apt description than usual, come to think of it...

And Sakura, who was still completely oblivious -- was that a wagon she was sitting in? Yes, Kakashi was pulling a red wagon with Sakura in it, and the girl was blithely starting another verse of her song without a care in the world.

"How do you numb your skin, after the warmest touch? How do you slow your blood, after the body rush..."

"Sakura-kun!" Iruka yelped, blushing fiercely. "You-- should you know-- I mean... where did you hear a song like that? I mean--"

"It was great!" Sakura said, drowsily. "Kakashi-sensei took us to a karaoke bar!"

By this point, Naruto was curled up in a ball on the floor whimpering at the payback he'd received for Sasuke's nose.

Sasuke, trying not to look too uncool with a handkerchief shoved against his bloodied nose and split lip, said, "I'll get her upstairs. Iruka-sensei, I'm leaving these two morons to you..."

"A karaoke bar?" Iruka echoed, numbly. Something was wrong with this picture. Kakashi was swaying back and forth on his feet gently, as though the evening breeze were about to knock him over...

And then Naruto's eyes focused on Iruka's overalls, and something pierced the haze long enough for a disturbing spark to light in his eyes.

"Heheheheee..."

Naruto hiccuped, then stumbled across the room toward the sofa and shoved Iruka's knees flat in order to plonk himself down on his teacher's outstretched legs.

As Iruka stared down at the boy's shaggy blonde head, Naruto curled up in the lap presented, and snuggled his cheek against the roundness of Iruka's enticingly plump belly.

"Comfy," he mumbled, rubbing his cheek against the fullest place; and then he passed out cold, jaw hanging open, snoring the snore of the blissfully intoxicated.

Iruka stared down at the boy so unselfconsciously nestled in his lap, trying without success to fight the slowly growing horror at how they all reeked of cheap beer.

"YOU GOT THEM DRUNK?!"

Naruto groggily protested the way Iruka's belly tightened with the force of the shout, mumbling something incoherent and patting his warm round pillow before dropping into snores again.

"Some people prefer the term 'well-lubricated,' you know," Kakashi offered, rubbing his chin. "'Drunk' is such a cold word..."

"HOW COULD YOU GET THEM DRUNK?!"

"Oh, it wasn't that hard," Kakashi said, taking far too much care to enunciate without slurring. "I didn't do a thing really. They managed it just fine by themselves--"

"YOU'RE DRUNK TOO?!"

"...Er. Right." He straightened up and laughed a little sheepishly. "Not in the least. But it was so much fun watching their faces when they think I'm drunk--"

There were simply no words left. Try as he might, Iruka couldn't come up with a single coherent word, although he belatedly realized his throat was raw from the force of the scream of pure outrage he'd just given.

Kakashi looked somewhat alarmed, which was far too little far too late.

Thinking back on it later, Iruka didn't even remember how he'd gotten Naruto off his lap; he hoped he hadn't just stood up and dumped the boy on the floor, although in his state of boneless intoxication the boy probably would neither have noticed nor minded much.

Iruka did remember one particular moment of clarity amid the heaving sea of chaos; he remembered being oddly grateful for the change in his balance brought by a woman's body and a ripening, increasingly fluid-heavy womb. It was much easier to balance securely on one foot when one's center of gravity had lowered from one's shoulders and settled solidly, deep and forward, in one's pelvic arch; that left the other foot free for the roundhouse kick that sent Kakashi tumbling head over heels out into the yard.

Iruka spent quite a while shouting at the top of his lungs, until his voice broke, and the tears running down his face didn't help anything at all; he kept scrubbing them away, shaking all over, incoherent with exhaustion and rage and grief too tangled up to bear.

Kakashi made the nearly fatal mistake of stepping closer and trying to comfort him.

"...and don't you TOUCH me, you asshole! Don't touch me-- get out-- I don't want to see that goddamned smirk, I-- damn it, I thought I could TRUST you-- they're underage CHILDREN, you bastard! I thought I could trust you with our child, I thought -- I -- but then you never have given a damn that they're children; damn it, you--"

"Iruka--"

"I said I don't want to look at you right now! Just get OUT!"

Iruka scooped Sasuke's tent roll off the floor and flung it full-force into Kakashi's face, then slammed the door.

Then he turned around and slid down the wooden frame to land on the floor with a graceless thump, choking on sobs of rage and helpless frustration.

Naruto was still snoring blissfully on the floor.

The tears were starting to slip over into hysterics; gasping for breath, one hand pressed hard against a tight knot of pain in his side, Iruka could hear the brittle edge in the hysteria, but couldn't seem to breathe deeply enough to do anything about it.

Sasuke's footsteps were even quieter than usual, barely a whisper of fabric against the floor as he moved to stand over Naruto.

It triggered something reflexive in Iruka even through the panic; he scrubbed both hands across his face quickly, fiercely, and began to chatter as though he could make everything all right if he just thought quickly enough.

"Water -- he'll need to get some water into his system, and painkillers too, they both will -- it won't fix everything, but at least it might take the edge off how horribly ill they'll be in the morning -- they don't even know where the bathroom is, I wonder if I should wake her -- them -- I wonder if they'd even remember if I woke them -- I -- damn it, one at a time, I'll get the water first--"

"No you won't," Sasuke said, and turned and padded into the kitchen. Iruka heard the faucet running, and then the boy was back with two glasses of water -- one of which he handed to Iruka, much to the chuunin's surprise.

As he knelt to coax the water into Naruto's near-totally-unconscious figure, Sasuke murmured, "Crying dehydrates you. Sit there. Rest. Sip at the water."

"But I -- he-- I'm sorry, you shouldn't have had to see that; you shouldn't have to do this, give me a minute and I'll--"

"You don't have to take single-handed responsibility for all the world tonight, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke said, rather sharply. "You're exhausted. Calm down. Rest. Have the discussion tomorrow, when you're both clear-minded." Under his breath, he added, "Besides, I'm planning to have a 'discussion' with your thistle-headed idiot of a husband tonight myself."

Iruka found that his hands were shaking so badly he needed both of them cupped to the glass to be able to drink without spilling.

Silently, Sasuke lifted Naruto onto the sofa, and set a wastebasket beside his head just in case. He put a blanket on the floor a few feet away, and set his scroll beside it, and then he walked over to sit on his heels by Iruka, with something strange and not quite as unreadable as usual in his dark eyes -- almost pity.

"Do you think you're up for stairs, or shall I bring a futon down?"

Iruka's spine stiffened despite himself -- and then he nearly laughed aloud. So quickly the tables turn -- wasn't I just thinking how hard it was for him to accept help, that I would be more sensible than he'd been...? The gods of irony are sick, sick bastards.

Iruka cleared his throat, and some lingering remnant of pride had him struggle to keep his voice steady while he said, "May I borrow your shoulder?"

Sasuke's slighter height fit quite conveniently beneath the curve of Iruka's arm; the younger man matched his steps to Iruka's carefully, and helped him into the bedroom, and somehow managed not to comment at the pile of books and papers Iruka had dumped on Kakashi's half of the futon earlier.

Iruka, looking at them, gulped hard. "Sasuke-kun...? Do you think he's angry with me...?"

"Him angry at you? After tonight?" Sasuke shook his head, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'imbecile' under his breath. "Iruka-sensei, go to sleep."

With a quiet sigh, Iruka lay down on the futon and stared at the wall. Sasuke considered it for a moment, then apparently judged it close enough to resting. The dark-haired boy wavered for a long moment, then knelt at Iruka's side and bent and brushed a kiss against Iruka's forehead.

Iruka's startled flinch nearly gave Sasuke's already-injured nose a more permanent set of damage.

With his face burning a dull pink, Sasuke said, "Never mind. Forget it. It's just... my parents would... oh, never mind; it's just--" Sasuke bit his lip, and then said fiercely, "He doesn't deserve you!"

And the boy all but fled, leaving Iruka staring into the dark, shaking all over, his mind awhirl in a dozen different panic-stricken directions at once.

---

Songs cited in the mad karaoke spree:

"Every Breath You Take" (Police)

"Why do you want him?" (Green Day)

"As Long as You Love Me" (Backstreet Boys)

"Insensitive" (Jann Arden) / "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer" (public domain)

"Ode to Ramen" (Destroy)

....and yes, I'm serious, "Ode to Ramen" EXISTS. I couldn't have made that up. If I'd been making it up I would have made more, I don't know, lyrical lyrics or something... (sweatdrop)

End note:

Obligatory note and/or hazard alert: I'm a J-pop addict who hasn't even entered a recovery program. But I'm mercifully restraining myself from inflicting untranslated J-pop on you, no matter how tempted I was by several insanely appropriate J-pop songs for this section. Besides. If Sakura spoke English and got drunk in a stateside karaoke bar, you just know she'd be singing Backstreet Boys... mwahahaa!  (The scary thing is chances are good she'd end up singing Backstreet Boys even in a Japanese karaoke bar. The karaoke places have tracks for just about any American song you can name, too.)

If it weren't for the fact that Kakashi was having far more fun dropping hints about singing something while neatly sidestepping the actual singing itself and snickering to himself about how the kids hadn't managed to trap him yet... I really really wanted to use a song that Inoue Kazuhiko (Kakashi's voice actor) had sung himself, because damn but the man can sing (see also my mad transliterating and translating spree over at AnimeLyrics.com). But the song that would have been absolutely perfect for him and Iruka to sing on a tipsy night in a karaoke bar also required Iruka to be there. Which just didn't work this time. Maybe some other story...

The one I desperately, desperately wanted the excuse to work into this chapter was a duet between Inoue Kazuhiko and Seki Toshihiko (Kakashi and Iruka's voice actors). It's a duet called "Furigana (Rubi)" from Warera Konsen Gasshoudan and it's fall-on-the-floor hilarious. They sound like a drunk-out-of-their-minds pair of literary snobs holding either the world's most embittered flame war or the world's most horribly-gone-wrong long-distance pen-pal love affair, or both... I translated it over at AnimeLyrics if anyone wants to see what it's about. It's on a two-CD set called Seiyuu Graffiti (VICL-40159 and 40160) which is tricky to find but well worth the hunt. End of fangirl rambling now...

So that's why I tried to find some American equivalents by people at about the same popularity level despite the fact that I don't actually listen to American pop much -- so that the true horror of this could be appreciated by an English-speaking audience. After all, what use is inflicting writhing misery on unsuspecting victims unless they understand that they're being abused? mwahahaha(chokewheezehack)erm... right.

Oh yeah, and I couldn't help making one bemused observation from my stats page about relative size of fandoms. The "Sound Effects" spinoff has gotten more hits in three weeks than any of my Cain fics have gotten in six months... and the "Gravitation" fic has gotten more hits in two weeks than ALL my Cain fics put together in six months. ^^;;; Which is just as well in a way, because I haven't got time to finish the Cain mystery for the foreseeable future -- mystery-writing requires enough time to sit down and work out the details of a twisted whodunnit without tipping my hand, and regular non-mystery plotting is about all I have time to pretend to juggle at the moment, but still. Interesting perspective on how many fans different series have...

Small preview, aside from what you know is happening in the next release because I'm too fried now to finish this one properly (see also the rant at the top):

Now that the kids are here, Iruka's going to have to find some way to come up with a cover story and non-ninja occupations for them too. (da-da-DUMMMM... and no he's not letting Kakashi do the guidance counseling, lest Naruto decide his new calling in life is to become the world's first professionally-slacking bar-prop ramen-taster.)

Chibi-Naruto (hic): Hey, but we have jobs-- our jobs are learning, uh, whazzuma... suh... not sundae... sutterty no jutsu! 'Cause it's, like, advanced an' stuff!

Chibi-Sakura (hitting him over the head with the rather thick karaoke book): Yeah, but we can't say that to people, you idiot!

Chibi-Naruto: Er... uh... right. (scratching behind ear) ehehehe...

Side Effects, Chapter 22

(yes, finally... (Monty Python voice: 'I'm not dead yet!') More after the 30
pages of this installment...)

---

Despite the grumbling of an impending thunderstorm, the birds were happily
singing their lungs out in the daily pre-dawn hallelujah chorus. Directly
outside the window, in fact. In the next room, Sakura was snoring quite loudly;
Iruka hoped it was because of the intoxication rather than her usual method of
sleeping. Iruka himself had spent the past hour lying still on the futon trying
hard to get some kind of actual sleep -- but the harder he tried, the more his
mind ground in circles.

I have to get some kind of sleep if I'm going to deal with him, with them,
tomorrow -- make that today -- make that what, three hours from now? Damn it.

He should have known better. They all should have, but they're children. I
can understand their being overexcited at the proposal of an adult they respect
taking them out to do something adults do. But he's their teacher! What in the
hell did he think he was doing? How could he...?

How could I? How can I even consider raising a child with a man who takes
his decade-underage students out to get drunk out of their minds?

I should have known. I should have realized a long time ago-- the first
time we argued about the chuunin exam, I had a taste of it -- but I just loved
him too much, the sense of humor and the unexpected whimsicality and the
strength under it... and the hell of it is he's responsible, sometimes.
Under his own definition of responsibility. I thought I understood that
definition; how could I have been that far wrong...?

Damn it, if those birds don't stop singing their heads off I'll take their
heads off for them--

Iruka rolled over and shoved his head under his pillow, one hand hard over
the top ear. It muffled the singing and the snoring and the thunder-growls, but
it also muffled breathing. At this point, he wasn't sure if he cared.

I have to get some sleep or else I'll be screaming at him tomorrow --
today -- and I don't want to scream at him -- I don't know what to do about
this. I don't know what to do about a difference this deep... he should never,
ever have thought of taking them out to get drunk on their very
first night in a town where we're all living undercover! What in the hell was he
thinking? How could I have expected him to be that much of an irresponsible,
thoughtless, near-malicious fool? They'll be so miserable tomorrow--

So will I, for that matter. I have to sleep--

and the birds' enthusiastic dawn serenade were NOT helping him forget that it
was only an hour or two before sunrise. With a groan, Iruka curled up smaller,
trying to fit more of his head and shoulders under the pillow.

I wonder what he's doing. Whether he's sleeping or not.

I wonder what Sasuke's doing too...

And that is NOT a situation I can even pretend to handle on a couple
hours' catnapping! Why did he kiss me like that? Playing 'I'm the caretaker now'
is one thing, but... what am I going to do if he's decided he has a crush on
me?Because I'm the first person who's actually stopped and listened to
him since his parents died? Because he's that much alone...?Please, any god
that's watching this farce -- please don't let him have decided he's got
a crush on me just because I'm someone who'll listen to him without stalking
him... and someone who's visibly able to give him an heir--! Oh, hell...

A little hysterical, Iruka bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud.
Sakura-kun and Ino-san and the rest of the kunoichi would kill me on the
spot...!

Which is one more thing I DON'T need to be worrying about at five a.m.,
but...

I'm worrying about nothing; I'm too tired to think straight... he knows
I'm Kakashi's. Of course he knows that. He couldn't not know it.

Then one small, miserable voice in the back of his mind whispered:

Am I still Kakashi's...?

The thunder snarled again, menacing but impotent.

I love him. I can't imagine my life without him in it. But can I raise a
child with someone who takes children to get drunk on a whim? There's no
guarantee he wouldn't do exactly the same with our own child-- and I know
we have such fundamental differences about children...

And the damned birds had to go. Had to go NOW. Because shoving the window
open and shouting at the birds' nests and flinging random books and other
improvised missiles at the tree was much less painful than continuing
that line of thought.

Iruka slammed the window shut and slid down the wall, both hands knotted in
his hair, hunched over to knock his forehead methodically against his tucked-up
knees, slightly parted to accommodate the bulge. It wouldn't be possible for
much longer; the growing bulk of the pregnancy already made it impossible to hug
knees to chest properly anymore...

The birds were now having an animated and high-volume conversation about that
cranky human's rudeness.

Iruka couldn't help himself. He started laughing; it had a strained,
hysterical edge to it, but it was that or scream in frustration, and his throat
was sore already from the night's rants and tears and the rest.

The thunder cracked so close by that he flinched despite himself; a few
seconds later, something pinged off the window... followed by more, a steady,
solid patter of heavy midsummer rain.

Iruka stared at the rain-shadows on the window for a long minute, half-blind,
and then wearily pushed himself to his feet and began looking for an
umbrella.

It was tricky to maneuver around the too-hastily-relocated bookshelves and
desk; Iruka found himself climbing over the desk with one elbow shoved through
the only crack in the closet he could manage with a bookcase half-blocking the
door, groping around blindly for an umbrella and cursing Kakashi, the rain, the
birds, and the conspiracy of the universe that made 5 a.m. one of the most
unpleasant hours ever invented.

Finally, he gave up on finding an adult-sized umbrella in the closet and
crept downstairs to look in the schoolroom for the children's supplies; several
of them had left umbrellas behind at various times, and the collection
fluctuated wildly.

And if Kakashi even thought about teasing him for bringing
Chidori-chan's far too cute pink hearts and flowers umbrella, there would be
bloodshed, and Kakashi would find the umbrella shoved up a place umbrellas were
never meant to visit, let alone open into...

...I'm not even sure if I can afford to stay with him, for this child's
sake. I need to sleep. Not just for my own sake. Why am I looking for an
umbrella?

Because I threw him out, and it's raining.

He has a tent. He'll be fine.

...But I threw him out. And it's raining.

And... I want to work this out. I need to work this out. I need him. I
love him, even when I want to kill him; I can't help it...

It's selfish of me. I should think of the child; I know how he is with
children, I've always known, nothing either of us can say will change that.

I was a fool even to start this. I should have known better. I should have
expected this. I shouldn't have let myself be so completely blindsided, I should
have thought of how he treats children months ago...

but I don't want to leave.

...It's selfish. I don't know if I still have the right to be selfish. I
can't think just of myself anymore. It's not my life he's going to be flippant
with...

--damn it, it's pouring out there. And where is Sasuke?

The boy wasn't in evidence; his scroll was still lying on the floor, but
Naruto's snores were the only sound coming from the living room.

The thunder cracked again; with a muttered curse, Iruka gathered up three of
the children's umbrellas and threw a poncho around his shoulders and put his
hand on the front door.

...And there was some kind of animal on the porch, because he heard
claws tapping along the wood, a solid echo from a fair amount of weight, and a
snuffling sound.

All the philosophical anxiety was gone in a jolt of pure adrenaline.
They're asleep, drunk, they'll never wake up in time if it gets past
me--

and before Iruka even realized what he was doing, he had several shuriken in
one hand and the doorknob in the other, bracing his shoulder against the
doorframe in case he needed to close it quickly to block an animal's lunge,
peering carefully through a crack just wide enough to let him fling shuriken
edge-on...

...at the world's most adorable retriever puppy. It snuffled eagerly at the
front door, with a soft little whine of pay-attention-I'm-cute-you-know,
and lifted one paw to bat at the crack in the door.

Heaving a huge sigh and trying to get his heart unstuck from where panic had
lodged it in the back of his throat, Iruka sat on the floor and swung the door
open.

"And just where on earth did you come from...?"

Tail wagging a mile a minute, the puppy bounded in and proceeded to try to
lick Iruka's face off.

"No, wait, you-- hey--! Back off-- sit--!"

And, much to his astonishment, the puppy did sit, all aquiver with
barely leashed energy. Iruka reached over to scratch behind the hopefully-perked
ears, and the puppy leaned hard into the scritches, tongue lolling out in
bliss.

Around its neck was a collar with the Konoha mark.

Iruka's hand froze mid-scritch. Kakashi's nin-dogs...

The puppy whined a little, butting his head against Iruka's palm, begging for
more scritching.

"It's not your fault, little one," Iruka told the puppy softly, leaning on
the door for balance as he stood. "I'm having a disagreement with your master,
that's all. Come on. Show me where he is..."

Oddly enough, the puppy wouldn't go past the edge of the porch; it dug its
heels in and scrabbled to stay on the wooden deck, and whimpered softly.

"Come on already," Iruka said with a chuckle, and bent to scoop the puppy
up.

The minute he walked past the edge of the porch, though, there was a soft
poof of smoke, and the dog's collar fell into Iruka's startled hands.

...Summoned specifically to keep watch over the house, then? And not
allowed to lead me to you? Kakashi, that's not bright, even with the
spectacular string of stupidity you've indulged yourself in this evening. What
if you slip on something in the wet, or fall over something in the dark?

All right, point taken, but still... Iruka sighed to himself. What
if I fall over something in the dark, stumbling around the forest looking for
you?

But the search proved to be much shorter and simpler than Iruka would have
guessed; glimmering faintly through the rain, there was a familiar
silver-thatched top to one of the shadows huddled beneath the biggest remaining
tree that had survived the kitchen redecorating.

Sound carried further than sight in the rain-spattered pre-dawn darkness;
Iruka took a breath to call his lover's name, and then stopped short when he
realized there were two voices.

"Easy for you to say," Kakashi replied to another shadow, huddled beneath the
shelter of the tent canvas, which he'd rigged up over a couple of the lowest
branches. "The hell of it is, apparently I went and triggered Iruka's 'defender
of innocent children' reflexes. And I've never seen anything scarier than
Iruka in 'righteous protector of the helpless' mode. I may be sleeping in your
doghouse for the next three months, at least..."

"Your mate's breeding, right?" said a vaguely-familiar, rumbling voice. "It's
nothing personal. All the bitches get touchy when they're having pups.
Especially their first litter."

"Pakkun, in case you hadn't noticed, Iruka is not a bitch," Kakashi said,
with a peculiar note of barely-suppressed, somewhat bemused hilarity. "And I
certainly hope we don't produce a litter of pups!"

"So? Doesn't change the fact that your mate's breeding, right? Get her a
steak or something and it'll all be good."

"...You know, mutt, it never fails to amaze me how spectacularly unhelpful
your advice can be."

"You're asking a dog for marital counseling, remember?" Pakkun growled. "If
you aren't getting a steak for your breeding mate, you louse, then get one for
me! Counselor's fee."

"Put it on my tab," Kakashi retorted, and then yelped as Pakkun bit his
hand.

"Cheapskate!" the dog growled around a mouthful of Kakashi.

"Ingrate!" he retorted, prying the dog off with a foot.

"Why would any mate love you when you won't even buy her steak when she's
breeding?"

"I never said I wouldn't!" Kakashi shot back, annoyed. "I just said I don't
think that's going to fix this--"

"Steak fixes everything," Pakkun said.

"You sound like Naruto," Kakashi sighed, nursing his injured hand. "Make
yourself useful, go check the house or something..."

"Your mate was just throwing things out the window screaming at the birds for
being birds," Pakkun replied, nonplussed. "And your mate's a chuunin. They come
with spiky bits and good aim. I'm staying well out of attack range
from your cranky, breeding not-a-bitch, thanks all the same..."

"Then you'd better get moving," Iruka said through grated teeth, smiling at
the dog quite fixedly.

Kakashi and Pakkun gave near-identical yelps; Kakashi ducked smaller and
Pakkun took off at a headlong gallop, nearly braining himself on the other tree
in the process.

"Er... hi?" Kakashi offered, rather sheepishly; as Iruka came closer, he
gathered his feet under himself, as though expecting a physical assault at any
moment. "I, er, expected you'd be making a lot more growling and fuming when you
hunted me down. Um. I have to ask if you brought the frying pan..."

"No," Iruka said, rather tartly. "Studying your brains after splattering them
all over the yard won't help me understand how your mind works, much as I might
wonder." Still surly, he thrust an umbrella into Kakashi's hands.

Kakashi blinked down at it for a moment, and, wisely, he bit back any sort of
commentary about the pink and the frills. "...Thank you. You didn't need
to..."

"Yes, I did," Iruka said. "We need to talk."

After a silent moment, Kakashi said very faintly, "Love, how did you make
that into the most frightening thing I've ever heard you say? ...how angry are
you?"

"I don't know if I can answer that."

"...Would you like to sit down, at least?" Kakashi patted a dry spot next to
himself under the shelter of the tent-canvas.

But Iruka sat down a little further away with a heartfelt sigh; at this level
of exhaustion, everything hurt.

Kakashi's gaze sharpened at that sigh. "Pain...?"

"Just... exhausted, and frustrated, and bewildered, and furious-- how
could you...?"

Iruka shook his head a little, still more incoherent from his tangled,
tired-out frustration than he liked to admit. He worked to put together
something that might sound halfway rational.

"How on earth could you take two barely-teenaged children out to get drunk on
the first night of an undercover mission...? I don't know if I can
understand that. Will you do the same to our child? Without even blinking? What
else haven't we mentioned to each other about how we feel about raising
children? How can I even think about raising a child with you when you do
things like this?"

Kakashi flinched as though it had been a physical blow. "Iruka..." He
stopped, and sighed, and said, "That is a bit of a chicken-and-egg problem,
isn't it. How do we explain what we assume, since we assume it to be so natural
it doesn't need explanation..."

"I shouldn't have been so shocked," Iruka said, staring down at the grass
fixedly. "I knew how you felt about your 'soldiers.' But this is something too
fundamental -- I would never have imagined you could even consider something
like this... They're barely even teenagers, and this time it's not just me being
overprotective! There are laws about the drinking age for minors--"

"Yes, there are," Kakashi murmured, very quietly. "But the laws fail to take
into account human nature."

"Yes, I remember how much you worried about the laws when your first solution
to the problem of repairing the kitchen was to rob the bank," Iruka shot back.
"Is it human nature to decide that laws are only made for those who can't get
around them when the laws become inconvenient? I never thought you would do
something so--!" He stopped short, one hand pressed hard against his side;
Kakashi was there in an instant, his hands folded over Iruka's.

"You are having false pains, aren't you," he said. "Earlier tonight--
with that stupid clown game-- damn it; I thought rest would help..."

"And how the hell am I supposed to rest when you're out until the
crack of dawn getting underage children drunk? When you've dumped into my hands
the job of defusing one of the most traumatized boys I've ever known? When he's
so lost and alone he doesn't even remember what it was like to be loved -- when
you're too busy amusing yourself tormenting the other two to notice--" Iruka
stopped again, teeth ground against a whimper of pain.

"You're exhausted," Kakashi murmured, his hands cupped carefully against
Iruka's belly. "You're exhausted and furious and you're braced for a fight, and
without even knowing what you're doing, you're dragging out chakra you haven't
got to spare. It's straining your hold on the jutsu."

"Then what do I do?" Iruka whispered, fighting not to surrender to the sick,
cold wave of fear that washed over him. "How do I fix it? If... if the
child's... --I don't know what to do about this! I don't know what to do about
anything --"

"It'll be all right," Kakashi murmured. "I promise."

"Asking me to trust you is not a good idea right now," Iruka
snapped.

Eyes lowered, Kakashi murmured, "I know. Let me ask you just to listen to me.
You decide whether or not you can trust me after that. All right?"

Because there was nothing else he could do, Iruka nodded a little, and didn't
resist when Kakashi slipped an arm around his shoulders for support.

"We need to help you relax and let go of the combat-charge, and when we've
got your chakra flow settled so that the baby has what it needs, I'm going to
put a light seal on you," he murmured. "It should make it easier to keep enough
of your energy flow in the paths your body needs right now. You'll be able to
break it if you try, but I wouldn't advise it, considering what it's going to be
holding in place for you. Can you trust me that far?"

Iruka nodded again, stiffly. "I'm warning you. 'Helping me relax' had better
include some kind of explanation of what the hell was going through your head
tonight."

"I understand," Kakashi murmured. Then he whistled softly, and said to one of
the larger shadows, "Over here, Chibi."

Something lurched out of the dark; Iruka yelped and flinched closer to
Kakashi's supportive arm. His sleep-deprived and distracted mind had interpreted
that particular hulk of shadows as another piece of the tent, until it opened
its eyes and yawned -- and then stood up -- and up...

"What is that thing?"

"Him? He's my Chibi," Kakashi said lightly, reaching up to scratch
under the jowls of a dog the size of a horse. Or maybe a small mountain range.
Or an offshore island. Or... Iruka shook his head sharply.

"You named that thing 'chibi'?!"

"You should've seen his big sister!" Kakashi replied, with a grin; he
whistled again and pointed at a spot, and the appallingly misnamed Chibi settled
itself with a thump that Iruka would have sworn should have been picked up on an
earthquake detector somewhere.

More than a little intimidated, Iruka huddled closer to Kakashi as the huge
dog blinked enormous yellow eyes, yawned again -- revealing far too many
teeth in a mouth that could have taken his head off in one munch -- and then
started wagging its tail.

"Watch out for the tail," Kakashi offered helpfully. "He gets carried away
when he gets enthusiastic about someone. Hasn't actually killed anyone with
either the tail-thumping or the doggy breath yet, but there've been a couple
close calls. And it looks like he likes you!"

"I'm, er, flattered?" Iruka managed, offering a hand to sniff.

Chibi considered the hand for a moment, then ignored it entirely and
proceeded to lick Iruka's face half off with one swipe of a tongue that could
have been used for a beach blanket.

"....gaaah...!"

"Okay, that's enough, you big lug," Kakashi told his dog firmly, helping
Iruka scrub the doggy-drool off his face. "We're under here to not get
soaked, thanks." He lifted Iruka with a bit of effort, and turned him to kneel
facing the shaggy curve of Chibi's flank.

"Kakashi?"

"He's the most comfortable thing for you to lie against around here," Kakashi
said. "Take the pajamas off, will you?"

"Kakashi--!"

"All right," he said, unusually subdued for the aftermath of what could have
been the lead-in to some outrageous flirting. "But at least turn the shirt
around so the buttons go down the back, so I can give you a backrub?"

Feeling a little silly, Iruka pulled his arms inside the pajama top and
wriggled until the buttons were facing the back, then put his arms through again
and gingerly settled against Chibi's flank. Chibi was warm, and shaggy, and
damp, and smelled appallingly of rain-drenched dog, but the enormous thing made
a contented whuff when Iruka leaned against him. Then the huge head swiveled
around, and Iruka saw a little pink flick of the Tongue of Doom before Kakashi
said, "No more licking!"

With an enormous sigh, Chibi dropped its head onto its forepaws. Something
that huge had no right to make puppy eyes. Because the puppy eyes were
correspondingly huge, and the sheer force of aren't-I-miserable-looking
was overwhelming from close range. Iruka found his fingers scratching obediently
before he even realized what he was doing.

A few moments later, he realized that Kakashi was already halfway through
unbuttoning the pajama top; his fingers were light and cautious, and when he
finished, neither of them moved for a moment. Then, more hesitant than Iruka had
ever seen him, Kakashi drew a shaking breath and touched his fingertips against
Iruka's shoulders, almost as though he was expecting to be pushed away.

Iruka closed his eyes and kept scratching at Chibi's furry shoulder, to hear
the tail resume its delighted thumping. Kakashi ran his fingers lightly down
Iruka's back, and took another unsteady breath, and leaned his palms into
rubbing at the knots of tension between Iruka's shoulderblades.

Somehow, Iruka thought unhappily, it doesn't make it any better
that neither of us have any idea where the hell we go from here.

The backrub wasn't really helping when every minute of silence that ticked by
felt like a wire being stretched more and more taut; with an explosive sigh,
Iruka said, "So what in the hell were you doing taking them out to get
drunk and coming in at virtually the crack of dawn?"

"I do have reasons, if you want to hear them," Kakashi said.

Iruka bit back the reflexive Yes, I'm sure you had quite a good
time laughing at their misery. Because, true as it was, Kakashi wouldn't
have offered it as an explanation by itself. Not if he had any idea what was
good for him, anyway. Taking a couple of careful, steadying breaths, Iruka
nodded a little, and said, "Ten minutes."

"You only gave me five last time," Kakashi noted.

"I don't think anyone could explain this in five minutes."

Kakashi nodded a little, and moved toward Iruka's side; when the moonlight
glanced across his face, Iruka bit back a startled cry.

"What happened--?"

"Oh, this?" Kakashi lifted rueful fingertips to the bruised cheek and
bloodied lip. "Sasuke and I had quite a -- vivid conversation. About what people
with responsibilities did and didn't do to upset their pregnant lovers. He had a
point, so I gave him one shot for free."

"Where is he? What did you do to him? Did he -- did you--"

"Relax," Kakashi said, both hands up. "The last time one of the
nin-dogs looked around, he was sleeping in the kitchen because Naruto snores too
loudly when he's drunk."

Iruka let out a sigh from a deep breath he hadn't even realized he was
holding.

"I won't say Sasuke's fine," Kakashi said, a bit wry. "I'd never say he's
fine; but he's no more messed up than he usually is, and maybe a little less."
He moved a little closer still, and settled one hand against the hollow of
Iruka's back, rubbing gently. "By the way -- thank you. I knew sooner or later
you'd wear him down enough that he'd actually let himself talk to you."

"You could have warned me--" Iruka stopped and shook his head. "And you're
not distracting me that easily."

"It's not a distraction," Kakashi replied, leaning both hands into the
massage now. "It's part of the reason. If you'd had Naruto and Sakura underfoot,
how much do you think he'd have said? Beyond 'hmph' and 'moron', that is."

"Sasuke talking to me has nothing to do with getting Naruto and Sakura
drunk!"

"Yes, it does, actually," Kakashi said. "He needed quiet, and peace, and
listening. None of which describes Naruto or Sakura very well. But that
was what he needed to be able to open up to you. Our two extroverts, on the
other hand, needed the loudly-partying, alcohol-induced variety of the can
opener of the soul. --No, don't tense up again. Just listen a bit longer, all
right?"

"There is no reason for two children that age to 'need' alcohol!"

"Did you know that Naruto wonders if maybe Hinata-chan stutters around him
because she's afraid of the kyuubi inside him?" Kakashi murmured, both hands
carefully rubbing at a knot of tension in the hollow of Iruka's back.

"He what?"

"He said that to me tonight," Kakashi murmured. " Alcohol is a drug like any
other. And it doesn't take a genius to apply it to anyone that you want to
extract a little information from -- in public, even. All good fun, 'of course
it's just a party and everyone's doing it.' Which means anyone can apply it to
anyone in a social situation without even a comment. And anyone can slip
something into their drinks."

"Here?" Iruka asked. "In this town?"

"Do you know why it is we're here?"

Iruka looked away. "...No."

"Neither do I," Kakashi said. "And that worries me. We still don't know what,
or who, we're up against. We don't know whether they've identified us more than
we've identified them. And alcohol is a fairly potent drug that's universal,
cheap, and publicly available. Someone had to teach them how to handle it."

"But not right now! They're too young for that--"

"Iruka -- they're shinobi, and they're also teenagers. And nobody's warned
the students explicitly about the way someone could use alcohol on them, in
front of witnesses, for whatever purpose. It's always been just 'drinking is
bad, don't do it until you're old enough.' Anyone who's spent more than ten
minutes around a pack of teenagers knows how quickly 'Don't do that' turns into
'They think I can't handle it? Just watch me.' Anyone could have taken
them drinking. I needed to know what kinds of things they would say when someone
did. Whether they would start bragging about Konoha and their escapades and
other things that an alcohol-loosened tongue might let slip. And that's why I
needed to be the first one to do it."

Iruka's hands knotted in the grass so tightly that he found himself with a
fistful of roots. "Excuse me, I don't think I heard you correctly. 'No one else
had illegally drugged them witless yet, so I volunteered in the name of
scientific inquiry.' Is that actually how you just explained this evening
to me?"

"If you'll think back, I never got them drunk while we were out on team
missions," Kakashi murmured.

"Which is why I thought you had more sense than this!"

"On team missions," Kakashi said, "I'm always there to supervise them. Or so
close to always that it's good enough. Here, they aren't my squad or your
students. They're three teenagers who happened to come from our village to visit
their former schoolteacher. The people we are in this village have no authority
over them."

"And if they even think about taking advantage of that, they know
they're in for pure hell when we get home."

"But there's no reason for them not to make friends, to talk to those
friends, and, inevitably, for those friends to try to impress each other. With
kids that age, impressing each other usually involves defying parents and
demonstrating their concept of 'doing what grown-ups do.' Their parents aren't
here, and two of them don't have parents to defy. That leaves us in the
position of 'the ones to be defied.' And drinking at parties is the easiest
outlet available for defiance; if they don't want to look too much unlike
regular teenagers, they might even justify it as part of their cover. Alcohol is
the cheapest drug teenagers can easily get their hands on when they throw a
party, after all."

Iruka sighed. "...I do recognize that. And there aren't Hokage
monuments to be painted here. But that still doesn't mean you should go and
make them drunk..."

"Would you rather have them proving their grown-upness to each other by
experimenting with sex?"

"No!" Iruka yelped.

Kakashi nodded a little. "So I took them drinking. I wanted them to learn
from the experience. I could keep them under control if they drank too much --
we particularly don't know what would happen to Naruto if someone drugged him --
and I learned several rather startling things about the way their minds work.
And they finally had a conversation they'd been needing to have for a long, long
time. --Apparently Naruto is a pineapple in Sakura's world view, by the
way."

"A pineapple...? --no, I don't even want to know," Iruka corrected himself
hastily. "And why didn't you at least try sitting them down and telling
them this first?"

Kakashi sighed, both hands busy rubbing at the hollow of Iruka's back. "No
matter who lectured them how often, waking up in the morning with the hangover
from hell is going to convince them they don't want to drink like that
again. It's a lot more effective than a lecture. And the lesson's more likely to
last, when they draw their own conclusions for themselves."

Iruka glared over one shoulder. "Aversion therapy? They're not your nin-dogs,
to be trained with a swat from a rolled-up newspaper!"

"But lessons are more memorable when they're learned through personal
experience, aren't they, Iruka-sensei?"

After a long, silent moment, Iruka murmured, "I don't agree -- I never will
agree -- but I understand that you had reasons. You know I'm never going to
approve of your methods, but they're yours. And I know nothing bad will come of
tonight beyond foul headaches and foul tempers tomorrow. But I'm still angry,
and bewildered, and... --you threw all of us into this purely for your own
amusement. Will you be this capriciously cruel with the lessons you teach our
child as well?"

"Considering how many years we have left before we've got a teenager on our
hands, we'll have to wait and see. But let's talk about these things as they
come up, shall we?" Kakashi replied, light-voiced, but with a thread of outright
fear running beneath it. "We will talk about them, won't we?"

After a long, silent moment, Iruka said, "I'm not leaving you tonight, if
that's what you're asking. But damn it, you'd better swear to me that you're
never doing this again!"

"Of course not. It shouldn't need to be done twice for them to get the
point," Kakashi said wryly. "At least, not if they have the common sense of
eggplants. --Which means I'm not quite so sure about Naruto, actually; but I'm
confident Sakura-chan will have gotten the point loud and clear by tomorrow
morning!"

"You don't have to sound delighted about that, either!"

Kakashi sighed, and said in a startlingly subdued voice, "I'm sorry."

Iruka blinked three or four times, then scrubbed at his ear since the problem
had nothing to do with his vision and everything to do with his hearing.
"...What?"

"I learned some invaluable things tonight when we were out drinking, and so
did they. I don't regret learning them. But... I'm just... I'm sorry that I've
gotten you so upset. You didn't need that. I didn't think you'd take it this
hard..."

"Kakashi," Iruka said, "how could you not know that I'd be furious
with you for dragging them in drunk out of their minds at four in the
morning?!"

A little sheepishly, he said, "I'd expected you'd be asleep before we got in.
I didn't want eighty decibels of Naruto to come crashing in in the middle of a
delicate conversation between you and Sasuke, so I thought I'd just keep us all
out of the way until you were both safely asleep, and then I'd just apologize
for their hangovers tomorrow... er, today..."

"How was I supposed to go to sleep not knowing where any of you were? We
hadn't even set up places for them to sleep!"

"But you see, that's the other advantage of bringing them home drunk; they
sleep just fine wherever you put them, just curl 'em up in a corner and they
stay there--" Kakashi stopped, rather hastily, and then mumbled, "And that was
the wrong thing to say too, wasn't it."

Iruka dropped his head forward against the shaggy pillow of Chibi's side.
"...I don't even know where to start..."

Once in a while, Kakashi knew when to keep his mouth shut and his hands busy
being helpful. He'd untied Iruka's ponytail and was slowly stroking his
fingertips through the long dark strands, scrubbing at the scalp a little to try
to release the tension, then letting his palms wander down the back of Iruka's
neck and shoulders. His hands were warm, and comforting, and Iruka sighed.

The hell of it was, after the rest of the night, this new set of information
was barely even a surprise. It fit, in some twisted Kakashi-brand combination of
pragmatism and mischief. Any other time, Iruka would have felt compelled to try
to reeducate his lover with some sort of blunt instrument to the skull -- new
and unexpected houseguests simply were not given sleeping-places by
virtue of getting them too drunk to notice they'd been dropped on the floor and
rolled into a corner! -- but tonight, it was just another piece that added shape
to the puzzle of how on earth Kakashi could have done it to begin with.

Kakashi noticed the slight easing of tension in the shoulders beneath his
hands, and asked very, very cautiously, "You don't mind?"

"It's not that I don't mind, it's just... so typical..." Iruka sighed.
"I love you, even when I know I'd be smarter to put you on a leash like one of
the nin-dogs and take you to some sort of class on basic civilization. You shook
me tonight. You -- I didn't think you'd do something like this to any of us, and
that scared me. I didn't know what to think about anything anymore. But it's
just so typical that you thought it'd all be fine, that you were
counting on coming in so late I'd never know and they'd be so tired they
wouldn't protest sleeping on anything that didn't move..."

Kakashi blinked a couple times. "You mean you forgive me?"

"Like hell!" Iruka growled. "You are never doing this again! You are
never disposing of sleeping space for houseguests by getting them too
drunk to notice the floor! And now that they've been 'educated' about alcohol
you are not taking them drinking again! Not until they're old enough, and
probably not then either!"

"...Is the right answer 'Yes, dear'?"

Iruka buried his face against Chibi's scruffy shoulder again. "...It's a
start."

The patter of the rain against the tent canvas was oddly soothing; now that
the sun was beginning to brighten the sky in the east, even if it hadn't cleared
the horizon, the birds were quieting down again.

Without the constant throb of active outrage fueling his need to stay awake,
his mind was a rather dazed blank, and the combination of aftermath and
exhaustion were gaining on him. Iruka found his eyes drifting closed despite
himself, and he shook his head a little, blinking.

"It's all right," Kakashi murmured, his hands deft and tender as he rubbed at
the lingering points of tension in Iruka's back. He bent close enough to brush a
kiss against Iruka's bare shoulder, and added, "The idea is to have you
relax, remember?"

"I should be awake if you're going--" a yawn cut the words short, but he
finished a little sheepishly, "going to seal me..."

"We can do that later. You need sleep more than anything else. --Here."
Kakashi made quick work of the buttons, then carefully lifted him again and
turned him over so that his back was resting against the warm shaggy hulk of
Chibi. Then he lifted one of Iruka's feet into his lap and set the
outdoor-sandals aside and started rubbing his calf and ankle, kneading out the
residual tension.

Iruka yawned again and snuggled against Chibi with a sigh. "You
manipulative... oh, that's good, right there..."

"Always glad to please." Kakashi turned his far too skillful fingertips to
the chakra-points in his feet. Iruka wasn't even aware he'd been making some
wordless happy noise until Kakashi chuckled at him; even then, he couldn't
summon the energy to growl.

"You should sleep too..."

"But then who'd torment Naruto and Sakura by banging around the kitchen
bright and early frying greasy bacon and eggs for breakfast?" Kakashi replied,
far too gleefully.

Since his foot was right there in Kakashi's hands, Iruka went ahead and
kicked him.

"...Ow. But you know the more miserable they are today, the better
they'll remember the lesson about what they shouldn't have done
yesterday..."

Iruka kicked him again, harder this time. "And who was responsible for
that?!"

"It's not like I tied them to the bar or anything--" Kakashi stopped, and
sighed, and bent his head over Iruka's bare feet. "And you're going tense again,
I can feel it."

"What do you expect?" Iruka asked, frustrated. "Every last bit of
their misery is your responsibility, and you're enjoying that!"

"It's not like you've never played a prank in your life, you know," Kakashi
replied.

Iruka drew himself straighter in sheer indignation. "When I played
pranks on people, I made sure they were conscious and coherent, so they'd
know how badly they'd just been gotten! There's no point in it if your
victim doesn't realize he's been had--"

Kakashi threw back his head and laughed. "I didn't know you were such a
schemer!"

"Where do you think I learned how to anticipate Naruto?" Iruka stopped and
shook his head, and said, "And that's beside the point here anyway!"

He pulled his feet away from Kakashi and began the rather awkward process of
figuring out how to stand without leaning too heavily on Chibi or stepping on a
paw; the child-swollen girth wasn't yet unmanageably awkward, but Iruka was
still adjusting to the loss of the ability to bend in the middle, and absolute
bone-deep exhaustion made everything more clumsy and difficult.

"Relax," Kakashi said again, setting both hands on Iruka's shoulders. "I'm
serious about this. You need to rest."

"You think I'm not serious?" Iruka demanded fiercely. "I'm dead
serious. You're not going to make them any more miserable than you
already have!"

"All right," Kakashi replied, soothing. "I'll be good. Sit down and let
me..."

"No! You're not doing any more to them. They've had enough
already-- they've had more than enough--"

"I said I'd be good, didn't I?"

"I don't trust you anymore!" Iruka shot back, furious. "For all I
know, 'being good' in your dictionary means 'I won't burn the eggs while
I'm frying them in three inches of grease to make the kids even more nauseous!'
There's no way I'm leaving you alone to--"

Iruka stopped short when he realized Kakashi wasn't smirking and waiting for
the best moment to throw in another smugly misinterpretable witticism; instead,
Kakashi looked simply and utterly stunned. He sat down with a thump in the soggy
grass, staring at Iruka with the eyes of a child who'd just been slapped.

"...And dammit, you DON'T get to make ME the bad guy!" Iruka shouted,
shaking with reaction to that shocked and heartbroken look. "How am I supposed
to trust you now when you say things like that? Yesterday I would have
trusted you to mean 'being good,' but yesterday I trusted that you wouldn't take
children drinking and look where that got me-- how am I supposed to know how
many layers of 'underneath the underneath' I have to try to read next? I thought
I knew, but I don't, and I don't know where to start learning again,
and-- dammit--!"

Chibi had drowsed through most of the argument, but Kakashi's mute stunned
pain earned a yellow-eyed look back and forth, followed by a deep
rumbling almost-growl at Iruka.

"No!" Kakashi ordered, clamping a hand over the huge dog's mouth. "No, Chibi.
This one's my fault."

The dog gave him a questioning look, but subsided with a grumble, flopping
its head back onto its forepaws with a vast sigh. Kakashi didn't move, head
bent.

"Tell me," Iruka said, shaking, half an order and half a plea. "Tell me how I
can know when to trust you again. I want to know. I just don't know how much
I've assumed that I shouldn't have-- tell me--"

...and then Kakashi's fingertips were against his lips, the faded scars from
years of summonings oddly smooth in contrast with the weapon-worn calluses.
Before Iruka could protest being hushed in the middle of a far too serious
question, Kakashi had gathered him into his arms and held him close, a little
too tightly, too desperately, afraid of being pushed away.

Iruka sighed almost as deeply as Chibi had, and tried to relax into Kakashi's
arms. It was more difficult than it should have been, because the outrage and
the exhaustion and the frustration were all tangling up together chattering in
his mind too loudly to let him get a thought in edgewise. Part of him still
wanted to shove Kakashi away and make him spend the next month borrowing a spare
corner of Chibi's doghouse just to make sure the message had gotten
across-- just when he'd thought his point had been made, Kakashi had turned
around and proved he'd been cheerfully heading straight back into
prank-of-the-moment life as usual, and it was so maddening to be ignored
or condescended to or teased by turn, and...

...and the little hitch of Kakashi's breath was far too familiar, from
earlier this evening.

So was the unexpected damp warmth against the skin of his throat. Iruka
twisted awkwardly, staring down at his lover's unkempt thatch of silver hair and
black-clothed, faintly shaking shoulders. The shock of it was almost like ice
trailing down his spine and settling in a cold knot in his belly.

"Oh, God, don't," Iruka said, almost horrified. "Please don't
cry--"

"I'm not," Kakashi mumbled into his shoulder.

You, Iruka thought, are the world's worst liar. "Dammit, I
didn't mean-- I'm--"

The rest was cut off by Kakashi's hand. "Don't you dare apologize," he
replied, huskily. "And how do you think I feel? How do you think I felt tonight,
watching you standing there..." He stopped short, and coughed a little to try to
cover for a sound that might have been a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. The kids
will be fine, that's not the problem -- but I'm an idiot for not realizing the
only one I'd really hurt was you."

"The kids are not fine--"

"They'll wake up cranky and sick and they'll be fine by tomorrow," Kakashi
murmured, still holding him close. "This isn't about them anymore. This is about
you. You meant it when you said you didn't trust me anymore. And tonight
wasn't worth that. I'm sorry."

"How can you say this isn't about them? This is entirely about them -- if you
hadn't..."

Kakashi put his fingers to Iruka's lips again. "Listen to yourself," he said.
"'If I hadn't taken them drinking'... no matter how you try to finish that
sentence, it comes down to the same thing. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't
be sitting here at dawn after a sleepless night wondering what else I might do,
wondering whether you can trust me with anyone's child, let alone our own... and
it wasn't worth the trade. It wasn't worth your grief, and the loss of
your trust."

"You're damn well right it wasn't worth it," Iruka said, a little unsteadily.
"But you never answered my question. How can I relearn what you will and won't
do for a prank? --What did you mean by 'being good?' Am I going to have
to protect them from you the rest of the day, to keep you from 'driving their
lesson home' as long as the chance presents itself?"

"Any other day, I probably would have considered 'being good' by
'being less bad than usual,'" Kakashi admitted tiredly. " But not today. Not
after this. I am taking you seriously. I just wish I'd had the decency to
take you seriously eight hours ago."

"That makes two of us," Iruka murmured.

Kakashi sighed again, smoothing Iruka's hair with a light hand. "I knew you
wouldn't approve, and I should have let that in itself stop me. Or at the
very least, we should have discussed it first. 'Because you don't want me
to' should have been a good enough reason by itself, not something to try to
dodge around and sneak past. I won't ignore your feelings like this again. I
swear that."

Then Kakashi scrubbed a hand across his cheek, not nearly as
casual-and-offhand as he obviously had meant the gesture to look, trying with no
success whatsoever to mask the fact that his face had just been streaked with
tears. Before Iruka could decide whether to fuss at him for the tears or scold
him for the pointless and badly unconvincing attempt at hiding them,
suddenly Kakashi was wagging a finger under Iruka's nose.

"And besides, how am I supposed to lull you to sleep and have my way with
your unresisting body when you keep getting upset and going tense like this? I
have to stop upsetting you, and you have to relax and drowse off, so I can
molest you properly!"

"...And what precisely about that speech was supposed to make me let
my guard down?" Iruka asked, one eyebrow twitching in irritation.

Kakashi's grin was a bit lopsided -- the bruise and split lip Sasuke had left
on his face were likely to take a day or two to heal -- but the impish glee
shining out of him was completely unimpaired. Any other day, Iruka might have
mistaken it for the real thing, rather than a hastily-reassembled facade.

"Well, there's always the fact that the kiss-and-make-out part of it is
so much more fun than the fight itself--"

"It's 'kiss and make UP,' not 'kiss and make OUT,' you--
you--"

"Really? Hmmm..." Kakashi rubbed his chin for a moment, then concluded
brightly, "Yep, I like my version better! They obviously don't know what
they're missing."

And he caught Iruka's face between his hands and affixed their lips together,
and held on. For quite a while. Despite Iruka's wriggling irritation, despite
all of Iruka's intentions of pulling back and having a serious conversation
about why Kakashi felt so compelled to hide all of his more sober emotions
behind the mischievous mask, particularly at a time like this-- despite the
occasional flinch when their mouths moved together in a way that brushed against
his split lip-- despite all of it, Iruka found himself knotting both hands in
the dark fabric of Kakashi's shirt and pulling him closer rather than pushing
away, arching into the skillful pressure of one warm hand in the aching hollow
of his back, hearing himself whimper as the other hand slipped beneath the
pajama tops to rub a teasing little circle just below the unbelievably ticklish
bulge of a navel that was being crowded out by the growing pressure from
inside.

"Don't--" Iruka managed to gasp somehow.

And to his utter astonishment, Kakashi's hand relented from its teasing
immediately, the palm cupping against the roundest place and then gently rubbing
down and around, a tender not-quite-massage of the muscles most strained by the
enlarging womb. His fingertips were far too clever at finding the
pressure-points in Iruka's belly despite the distortion of six months' increase;
the thumb of the other hand was kneading at a knot of tension in his back that
abruptly relented, a relief of pain that was nearly painful in itself. Iruka
managed a half-strangled squeak; Kakashi chuckled softly, and kissed his cheek
to let him gasp for breath, and shifted both hands to his sides, easing up the
pajama top.

One pale finger traced the ripple of tension where abdominal muscles still
struggled to maintain a semblance of their former trim shape despite the
rounding, ripening weight that grew within. Iruka hastily bit down on his
knuckles to keep from shrieking at the tickle; the last thing he needed
was for some inquisitive neighbor to wonder what they were doing in the back
yard of the schoolhouse before dawn.

"Does it hurt...?" Kakashi murmured, curving his palms to Iruka's sides to
feel for the nature of the tension.

Iruka shook his head a little, face burning. "Tickles. Like mad..."

Kakashi relaxed visibly at that, and turned a far too mischievous eye towards
his lover. "You should be thanking any god which listens that you only mentioned
that part while I'm feeling chastized already, you know. Ah, well. Inspiration
to remember for later!"

"You... I... er... oh, damn."

Kakashi's low-pitched chuckle was not at all reassuring. And then he
bent forward.

Iruka stared down at the shaggy silver mess of his hair in alarm. "I thought
you said you were feeling chastized--"

"Oh, that too," Kakashi breathed, barely an inch from Iruka's skin. "Lucky
for me, feeling chastized makes me horny."

"EVERYTHING makes you h--" Iruka stopped short, because all the breath
had caught in his throat and stuck there.

Kakashi's lips were impossibly warm and sweet against the snug rounding of
the baby's bulge, tender, silent, nearly reverent. He traced the curve of
Iruka's abdomen with light fingers, seeking something, and then shifted to place
another kiss there, and Iruka belatedly realized that he was kissing each of the
chakra-points in his belly. And leaving the imprint of his blood, from the split
lip.

"Kakashi...?" Iruka's voice trembled, rather embarrassingly.

"Arch your back a little," Kakashi said, guiding with a hand, and Iruka
shifted his weight as bidden, still shaken for a reason he couldn't even name.
Kakashi nodded encouragement and rested his head in Iruka's lap for a moment to
kiss the lower curve of his abdomen, below the bulging navel.

He followed a spiral pattern around the energy-centers of Iruka's abdomen,
kissing each chakra-point in turn, and then streaking a thumb through the blood
on his lip and connecting the points. Only then did Iruka realize that the
tingling warmth he felt went beyond his breathless, embarrassed desire for each
new tender kiss; Kakashi was sealing him into the jutsu, anchoring it and
strengthening it from his own life's energy with the blood-pact the greater
seals demanded of their users.

"Ka-..."

And then the seal locked into place, and the world went white.

Iruka had never been sealed before, and Naruto had been far too young to
remember his sealing, and far too young to feel this even if he had
remembered -- the heat of Kakashi's life pouring into him, filling him to
overflowing, hot and sparkling and ineffably tasting of him -- it was
perhaps the most purely erotic sensation Iruka had ever experienced. This was
what sex struggled to duplicate, the perfect joining of two lives' energy into
one body, beyond the limitations of mere flesh and blood...

...and then the awareness of it faded, and Kakashi was lying in his lap,
laughing breathlessly but enthusiastically at Iruka's expression.

"...did I just scream?" Iruka asked, in a very, very tiny voice, still
struggling to catch his breath.

Kakashi started laughing harder, interspersed with hilarity-choked wheezes
for air.

"Oh, no," Iruka breathed, letting his head fall back against Chibi's
side and panting for breath as well. "What... what do we... tell the
neighbors...?"

"The neighbors?" Kakashi wheezed, still grinning, with a glance toward the
house.

Iruka felt his face burning scarlet, and he thumped Kakashi on the head hard.
"The kids-- Naruto's going to think we-- we-- anyway! What do we
do? He's never going to forgive us -- scratch that, he's never going to stop
teasing -- oh, God..."

"No he's not," Kakashi managed, clutching his ribs, half convulsed with
hilarity. "I got him drunk... remember...? He's not going to hear anything -- or
remember it...!"

After a long panting silent moment, Iruka said, "Don't you even try to
claim that was deliberate foresight; I know better. And I'm going to hurt
you if you ask me to thank you for getting him drunk."

Wisely, Kakashi kept his mouth shut, aside from the far too smug grin.

Iruka struggled with himself for a moment, but the need to know was
scrabbling at his heart with sharp little claws of jealousy, and he fumbled
through an awkward attempt at the question: "Does it... is it... usually...
er... is it supposed to be... so, um...."

"Is what supposed to be what?" Kakashi asked, though the mirth in his eyes
said he already knew and was enjoying Iruka's blushing embarrassment... the
bastard.

Iruka took a deep breath, and tried to get through it all in one rush. "The
sealing. Do -- do the people you seal -- do they all feel... that...? I mean...
is it always so... intense, so... um..." His voice squeaked humiliatingly at the
end: "...so erotic...?"

It was clearly taking a great exertion of willpower for Kakashi to keep from
doubling up in hysterics again.

"Don't laugh at me! Just answer the question -- I -- it's only fair; I have
the right to know that much-- don't I?"

"Yes," Kakashi said, in a voice that he was manfully struggling to
keep from brimming over with pure caramel mirth. "Yes, you have the right to
know. No, it's not always... like that."

He took a careful breath, coughed into his hand to try to fight off the
hilarity a little longer, and tried again.

"Intense... it usually is intense, yes. It's a blood-binding. But normally I
nick a fingertip, so it's easier to trace the patterns. I don't make a habit of
shaping seals with kisses, in case you wondered. You're a special case."

"But... it's the... connection, the... the time when... --I could feel
you, I could feel it was you, in my body, hotter than blood... is that
how it always is...?"

"No," Kakashi said again, and his smile was indulgent and adoring, and far
too knowledgeable, and Iruka had to look away. "It's not always like that. But a
woman's womb is a sexual organ, after all. --And I don't normally put
that much of myself into a sealing, either. Let's just say I was... feeling
inspired tonight."

"...you did that on purpose?"

"In a manner of speaking," Kakashi agreed, and tilted his head a bit to brush
another soft kiss against Iruka's belly. "Yes, the method of application
did have something to do with the, er, special effects. But most of it
was... I sealed us together. You have part of my life now, if you need it. If
your own strength falters, you'll draw on mine."

"...Wait. What? You mean -- you -- I -- wait. No--" Iruka stared down
at his lover in near paralytic bemusment. "You mean if I'm not strong enough to
hold this by myself, I'll drain you? Like I'm some sort of leech?
Kakashi--!"

"I told you I'd support you through all of this," Kakashi replied lightly,
though his visible eye was sober. "I meant that. In every way."

"No! I'm not about to let you-- you said I could break this, didn't you? How
do I--"

"Love," Kakashi interrupted quietly, "this evening, you'd exhausted yourself
to the point where you were having false pains as the jutsu wavered. It was my
fault. I've corrected it. You'll need more and more energy to maintain this as
time passes, as the child grows and draws its own strength from yours; if you
exhaust yourself to the point of contractions next month, or the month after,
the child could come too soon. --And like you said earlier: it's only fair,
isn't it? What's happening to you is my responsibility as well. I've finally
come up with a real way to support you through this."

Iruka opened his mouth to protest again, and stopped short at something in
Kakashi's voice. After a moment, he stroked his fingers through Kakashi's hair,
and murmured, "Tell me you didn't do this because you're feeling guilty."

"Nothing to do with taking the kids out to party, on my honor -- what there
is of it, anyway."

"Kakashi," Iruka said, leaning a bit on his teacher-voice. "Tell me
you didn't do this because you're feeling guilty."

After a moment, he sighed, and looked away, and said, "You said you didn't
trust me anymore. And even before that, you didn't trust me to help pay the
bills. You keep trying to take care of everything all by yourself. You shouldn't
have to. We're in this together. What point is there in being the master of a
thousand techniques if I couldn't think of a way to make them help you? I just
decided it was time to make my contribution a little more tangible. --And harder
to refuse, because you keep trying that too."

"Kakashi--"

"Hmm?" He was nuzzling at Iruka's belly again, scattering soft ticklish
kisses purely for the sake of teasing this time, without a motive beyond
distraction; Iruka tangled his hands in Kakashi's hair and pulled his head away
so that he could concentrate enough to think.

"Stop that," he said, hoping he didn't sound as uncertain about the request
as he felt. "Kakashi. What happened to the speech about 'not ignoring my
feelings'?"

Kakashi's eye sobered immediately. After a moment, he said, "I thought you'd
agreed that it was a good idea to seal you."

"It was," Iruka said, a little helplessly. "I just didn't know you meant --
this. I thought you meant solidifying my hold on the jutsu, not... not making me
into some kind of chakra-leeching almost-vampire draining your life from
you--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Kakashi said, both hands up. "It's not like that.
When you're feeling rested and well, you won't be drawing anything from
me. Anything at all. It's just... insurance. When you most need someone's
strength to support you, that's when you'll have what you need from me. That's
all it is."

"Can't you undo it?" Iruka asked in a very small voice.

"...Love, are you truly asking me to not give you what you need, at
the times when you most need it?"

"No," Iruka said, miserable. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm asking you not to risk
yourself over something stupid just because you're feeling guilty."

"Then we're fine just as we are," Kakashi replied, with a droll grin. "Since
this is hardly something stupid."

After so many years of life around Kakashi, some things were evident even
when they were hidden underneath a couple of underneaths. "In other words, you
are risking yourself because you're feeling guilty."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"...You know, love, you don't always have to read three extra layers
into everything I say."

"If it weren't true," Iruka replied with a sigh, "you'd just have denied it
already."

"Do you really expect me not to feel guilty after you've told me how
much I've damaged your trust in me tonight?"

"...I expect you not to hurt yourself because of it. I expect you not to make
me hurt you..."

"Then we're fine again." Kakashi smiled up again, and took Iruka's hands and
brought both palms close enough to kiss the ticklish points in the hollow of the
palms. "You won't hurt me. I promise. --Now can we get back to the 'kiss
and make out' part of the morning?"

"I told you, it's 'kiss and make up', you lech--" Iruka stopped short
with a squeak, because one of Kakashi's hands was tickling its way up underneath
the pajama top. Slapping at the wayward hand didn't work very well because the
fabric shielded it, and since the arm was halfway under the fabric too, there
was no easy handhold to stop him; hastily, Iruka shaped a few seals with his
hands and called, "Pervert counteraction no jutsu!"

...And nothing happened, rather uncomfortably. It felt a bit like stubbing a
toe, only all over.

"Wait a minute--" Iruka reshaped the seals carefully, and tried again. And
again, nothing.

...And Kakashi looked absolutely delighted with the universe.

The last piece fell into place, with earth-shaking horror rumbling in its
wake.

"You sealed me-- you sealed me into this jutsu -- which means I
can't-- I can't--!" Iruka stopped, took a deep breath, and shouted at the top of
his lungs, "YOU WERE PLANNING ON THIS, WEREN'T YOU?!"

"I had no idea!" Kakashi protested, laughing. "Not that I'm going to
object, but--"

"LIAR!"

"Who, me?"

"AAAUUUUUGGGGHHH!!"

Hastily, Kakashi extracted his hand from Iruka's shirt. "Breakfast!" he said
far too brightly. "I should go make breakfast. How does breakfast in bed sound?
I owe it to you, right? So you can go back to bed and sleep in and let me coddle
you, because I owe you some pampering silly, don't I? So I'll just be going
now--"

"NO EGGS!" Iruka roared.

Kakashi held up two inoffensive hands. "I promise. No grease, no making the
kids worse--"

"No, I mean no EGGS! At ALL!" Iruka shot back. "You remember
what happened the LAST time you cooked eggs?!"

"...Oh. Right. That." Scratching behind an ear, Kakashi said, "Suppose I boil
them?"

"...I don't know. Is there any possible way you can end up destroying
the kitchen trying that? Because if there is, then NO!"

"I don't know whether to be flattered or indignant," Kakashi said wryly. "No
matter what you think of my Sharingan skills, I swear on everything that's holy
-- not even I can manage to burn water."

"You're sure about that?" Iruka growled.

"Reasonably sure, I think. Although if you really want me to try and
see if I can get a spark out of it--"

"NO!" Iruka pointed at the ground beside Chibi. "I'm cooking
breakfast. Sit."

"But..."

"Sit. Stay. Now."

Dutifully, Kakashi dropped to the ground, and if he'd had a tail to wag, it
would have been thumping away. "Shall I roll over too?" he offered. And he
promptly suited deeds to words, rolling onto his back with his hands tucked up
like paws and the tip of his tongue peeking out. "...Rub my tummy?"

Iruka tried to keep glaring. He really tried. But he had to breathe,
and when he tried to breathe, the muffled half-snort of laughter escaped, and
then he just gave up. "...Dammit! Stop being so damn cute at me--!"

"Yes, dear." He blinked totally unfair puppy-eyed wistfulness up at Iruka,
and added hopefully, "Rub my tummy now? You know you want to."

Iruka struggled with that for a long moment, weighing the temptation to
tickle against the abstract need not to encourage his incorrigible brat of a
lover.

"...Or shall I rub your tummy?" Kakashi offered, working entirely too hard on
the puppy eyes. "Or better yet--"

He rolled over further, caught Iruka's hips in his hands despite the awkward
angle, and with a startling display of the strength concealed in that lanky
frame, Kakashi lifted Iruka over and settled their bodies together, legs
intertwined.

"Efficiency," Kakashi mused, one hand already coaxing the waistband of
Iruka's pajamas lower, and the other fumbling at the buttons which still ran
down his back. "We both want our tummies rubbed, right? So if you rub your tummy
against mine, then we both have our hands free for the rest of the kissing and
making out--"

In desperation, Iruka tried the last thing he could think of. "Chibi! Sic
him!"

Chibi looked over and blinked enormous befuddled yellow eyes.

"You didn't honestly expect that to work, did you?" Kakashi asked
amusedly, half done with the buttons.

"...All right, Chibi -- lick him!"

Chibi perked up immediately, and the huge head swiveled around.

The look of outraged betrayal Kakashi turned on them both was priceless... in
the two seconds before his face vanished into the beach-towel-sized tongue.

Iruka rolled himself out of the drool radius hastily, groping for an umbrella
just in case.

"...gaaAAAAaaah--! Chi--"

A second swipe nearly took Kakashi's shirt off with it.

"--Chibi! No-mmmph!"

"Good boy, Chibi," Iruka said, patting the enormous dog's shoulder as he
struggled to his feet. "You keep right on licking until I've got the kitchen
safe."

Chibi put a dinner-plate-sized paw on Kakashi's chest and settled in to show
his full devoted love and slobbering adoration for his master.

"...eeeyyaaagggghhh--!"

Half an hour later, Iruka had just put the boiled eggs in the colander in the
sink to cool down when a mud-splattered apparition walked in the back door. Half
of Kakashi's hair was standing straight up and the other half was plastered to
his skull by various applications of doggy-lick and downpour. Iruka hastily
clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly and waking
Sasuke, who was still curled up under the table.

"You win," Kakashi said wearily.

"...I what?"

"You just win, that's all." He started to plow a hand through his hair, then
looked at what happened to his hand and made a face. "I'll finish breakfast,
I'll make nice non-flammable cereal, I won't even touch the stove. I'll be good
for the rest of the week. Just don't sic Chibi on me again."

"Only the rest of the week?" Iruka asked.

"Be a little merciful here, will you?" Kakashi begged. "Do you want a month?
I don't know if I have it in me..."

"Two weeks, and some more milk and strawberries?" Iruka counter-offered. "We
ran out last night."

"Done."

"And peanut butter."

"Anything."

"A loaf of bread and a crate of ramen, too. There's five of us for breakfast
now, and one of them's Naruto. Is the grocery on the corner open yet?"

"I don't know. I'll go find out." He stumbled toward the door again; Iruka
reached over and caught a handful of damp muddy shirt.

"You might want to shower first," Iruka suggested carefully, trying hard not
to laugh. "Otherwise Mrs. Ichimura is going to wonder what war zone you just
walked out of."

"Yes, dear." Kakashi stumbled toward the stairs, then stopped, vaguely
swaying, in the doorway.

"Iruka...?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you do one thing for me?" he asked, soberly. "Go back to bed. You're
running on adrenaline and the boost of the chakra from the sealing, but it's
going to hit you sometime, and I'd rather know you were safely resting while I'm
gone..."

Heedless of the damp and the mud and the doggy drool, Iruka walked across the
room and put both arms around him and held on tightly. "I love you," he murmured
into Kakashi's shoulder. "Don't do this to either of us again."

Kakashi made a rather vain attempt at wiping off his hand on a less-muddy
patch of his pants before he stroked Iruka's hair. "I love you too," he said.
"And now we both need a shower. --I'll bet there's room for two and a half if
we're friendly..."

Iruka let go promptly at that. "No."

"Aww."

"I thought you said you wanted me resting," Iruka said, struggling not to
grin despite himself. "If we both get into that shower, I'm not going to be
resting, am I. And I don't want us to wake the kids."

"Awwwwww..."

"Go take your shower." Iruka looked in some dismay at his mud-streaked hands,
and said, "I'll use the sink."

Kakashi tried one more application of the puppy eyes, through sheer knee-jerk
reflex.

"Two weeks, remember? You promised."

"...This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life."

---

Author's note:

50,000 hits on this story since February! (boggling again) Wow...

(pant pant pant wheeze) Yes, I'm still alive, despite the efforts of this
summer to kill me. No, I'm not kidding much. Starting with my office lights
bursting into fire and sparks when I walked in, going through Niagara Falls
coming from my apartment's shower ceiling fan, continuing on through new-writing
and revising a quarter of our 2,500-page website in four weeks, having only 3
weekends of actual in-town time the ENTIRE summer, and spending most of those
madly working on the aforementioned quarter-of-the-website update while working
10 to 16 hour days six or seven days a week...

Thank you for being patient with me -- about 95 percent of you were understanding
anyway, and that's a MUCH higher ratio than last time around, and I'm very,
very grateful for that.

(I'm also slowly getting better at ignoring the raving idiots who are still
demanding updates like I'm a personal failure for not anticipating their desires
and not putting my ability to sleep and earn a living second to their
entertainment... I seem to recall getting beaten with a virtual coconut with an
update demand this time around; I seriously have to wonder if some people even
read chapters or if they just post knee-jerk 'update' reviews as soon as they
see something HAS been updated or what...)

(I also found out that people actually discussed this fic at a con (wow!) ,
apparently I kept several people up reading as late as Kakashi kept Iruka and
the kids (er, sorry about that?) and got my first marriage proposal from chapter
21 (hee hee hee!). I'm, er, boggled at all the reactions... wildly flattered
too, but mostly boggled! Thank you again...)

Someone mentioned that I'd forgotten to credit a song in chapter 21 -
"Foolish Games" by Jewel; sorry about that!

Another question that came up:

Why 'Iruka' and not 'Iruko'? Because Iruka is the person, and Iruko is the
semblance-of-a-person. Iruka is the name of the person inside the body; Iruko is
the female form being worn like a different set of clothes. Iruka's the person
they're all dealing with -- the schoolteacher, the person who loves Kakashi, the
reality inside the different body. They only say 'Iruko' when they're
specifically observing that the female body isn't his own. But it's easier to
spend a year undercover answering to your own name instead of someone else's --
just like he never changed his face, only the 'plumbing,' because the less
that's a lie, the easier it is not to make a mistake... that's the same reason
that most of the time I use a male pronoun for him. The truth of what he is is a
male person; he's just in a female body for a while. When they're talking aloud,
they say "she" for the sake of the listeners and because they're speaking from
the outside in, but Iruka still thinks of himself as a "he" inside, and most of
the story's written from his perspective, from the inside looking out... does
that make sense? (Maybe I've taken too many years of Japanese class, where you
often use entirely different verb forms depending on the relationship of the
speaker to the direction of the action -- towards, away from, or tangential to
the speaker... speaking of which, this would actually be easier in Japanese,
because pronoun use is SO much more rare that Naruto wouldn't have to remember
nearly as often. But I'm writing in English, so I have to make the English make
sense...)

There was something else I was going to ramble about but I've forgotten what
it was so I'm just going to post it and get on with starting the next chapter...
hopefully (hopefully) it won't take me two months plus this
time...!