Rule 3

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I DO own this laptop I'm working on, I DO own this story, I DO own the account on fanfic that's name is Sukki18, I DO own Ichigo, I DO own the world, but I do NOT own Naruto!

SUPRISE! More fluff and a section from Itachi's POV! Told you there was a surprise! ^^

...You lazy, no good, rotten piece of lousy JUNK! Why can't you protect yourself against a virus, you dumbass!? STUPID LAPTOP, I'LL MURDER YOU! (Not even eigth freaking months and already I'm back on dail up and 2005 desktops...)

vvv Itachi's POV vvv

I was scanning over the report I had just typed over the meeting to file away when Ichigo rolled over in her sleep and pressed into my side, her face nuzzling my ribcage. I grimanced and tried my best not to flinch. Ichigo knew many things about me, probably more than my own family. She new exactly how I liked my coffee down to the perfect temprature and coffee to cream ration. She knew my allergies, my grades I got in high school and college, the numbers of all my ex-girlfriends, the kind of cigarette I liked when I used to smoke, my favorite foods, even how I liked to organize my pens, but the one thing Ichigo didn't know was I was extremely ticklish.

My assistant twitched in her sleep and carelessly threw her arm over my waist, I glared down at her sleeping form, wishing I had never agreed to share the bed. She had apparently forgotten to mention that she was a bed hog and had no concept of personal space when asleep. Slowly my glare melted away when I saw the small innocent smile on her face. I thought back, trying to think of another time I had seen such a smile on her, nothing came to mind. If I had ever seen her smile it was a smirk when she was teasing me.

Sasuke never did understand why I let Ichigo get away with almost anything, and he probably never would since his assistants never lasted for more than a week. After seven years of total devotion to her job, I knew Ichigo deserved some small reward even if she never knew she got it. Being allowed to speak her mind with no consequences was reward enough, and actually bettered our partnership. I would always have her honest opinion, and she would never lose work time worrying if what she just said would cause her to lose her job.

Ichigo mumbled something softly in her sleep and rolled back to her side, curling up on her side. I watched her for a minute, she looked so peaceful. I smiled, remembered the day my father brought a nerdy girl into my office. She was pratically hiding behind Fugaku, clutching her books to her still flat chest, peering around my father wide eyed at me. Her ratty strawberry blonde hair had been up in high pigtails then, clumped and greasy from the lack of washing. Freckles marched across her nose, as did pimples, but were hidden from view by large clunky glasses held together in multiple places with duct tape. She wore an overlarge and stained dingy-white t-shirt and a navy blue floral skirt, white stockings with large runs in them, and brown scruffed clogs.

Looking at this young woman beside me, it was hard to believe that the girl that Fugaku had brought in my office so many years ago had been Ichigo. The Ichigo now looked nothing like the one seven years ago. Now her strawberry blonde hair fell lushly down her shoulder, the tie that held back her hair had come out sometime in the night. There was no denying that she had curves most women would envy; and any man would have to be blind and stupid not to admit that Ichigo was indeed very beautiful. Gone were the pimples and glasses. Her skin was porcelain and smooth to the touch, her feckles still adorned her face, but they were only visible when she was flushed. I had tolerated the sixteen year old Ichigo, but the twenty-three year old one... I was still figuring out. Sighing I shook my head, these thoughts weren't getting me anywhere. I shut down my laptop and closed it before taking off my reading glasses and turning off the lamp. As I fell asleep, I reached out and gently ran my fingers though Ichigo's soft hair, smiling.

vvv Normal POV vvv

The first thing I realized when I woke up was I couldn't move. The second was the feeling of hot breath on my neck and shoulder. The third was that Itachi's arm was thrown over my abdomen, and that I had somehow laced my fingers with his in the night. The fourth was that my boss was nuzzling my neck in his sleep. The fifth was that he was also spooning me. And the sixth thing I realized was that I actually liked it. I froze at the thought, but the more I tried to deny it, the more sure I was. I liked waking up with Itachi cuddling me. I bit my lip, terrified that if he ever found out I would lose my job.

I tried to get up, but Itachi growled and held me tighter. I couldn't help but to grin as I realized why I hadn't ended up laying on Itachi again. He had made the first move this time and made sure that I stayed there. I wondered what would happen when he woke up, would he blame me, even when it was clearly his fault that we were in this position. Would he care? I reached out, having to stretch far since Itachi still wouldn't let me go, and checked my watch. It was 6:44. Nagato said that there would be no meeting today since we had cleared everything the first two days. I yawned and managed to roll over, burying my nose in the hollow at Itachi's throat. I subconsciously inhaled my boss's scent, relishing in the subtle smell of soap and oak. The last thing I remember as I fell back asleep was burying my fingers in his silky dark hair.


"Um... no thank you." I said, trying to be as polite as I could to the extremely perverted man and his discreetless flirting. He smirked and 'accidently' bumped my chest, I tried not to punch him. Suddenly I pointed behind him, "Isn't that your wife?" "Where?!" He twisted around searching for his demonic wife, fear shining in his eyes. I took my chance and slipped into a group of women passing by at that moment.

They just had to be fangirls.

"Did you see how hot Deidara-san looks tonight?" One of the girls gushed. I closed my eyes and surpressed a groan. Classic example of 'out of the frying pan and into the fire'. "Just image how he would look in bed..." Another woman giggled. I made a face and jumped out of their group. Picking up the front of my heavy skirt I weaved through the pressing crowd of the charity ball. I hated the charity ball, more than I hated the formal dinner! It always ended with drunken idiots flitrting with me or Itachi's fangirls out for my blood. By the end of the night I would be stuck like glue to one of the Akatsuki represenatives I could actually stand.

I found Sasori and Deidara first. They, like always, were arguing which art was better. I rolled my eyes, I got along best with the both of them, as long as they weren't together. I ducked between them and they both halted in their argument to look at me. I smiled, "I'm tired of the jerks flirting with me, and the fangirls..." Deidara laughed while Sasori just rolled his eyes, "Then why don't you go bother your boss?" He snapped. I raised an eyebrow, "The way we've been at each other, I'd rather spend a week in a room with thousands of fangirls!" This time both Akatsuki represenatives laughed. I grinned, determined to spend the rest of my night at the ball with the two artists.


Itachi and I left directly after the ball, having to be at the office early the next day to catch up. Of course it was pouring rain when we left. The silence between us was awkward to say the least, both of us had an unspoken agreement not to talk about this morning when we both woke, cuddling each other. I could only hope this weekend would slip from my mind and I would never remember it again...


Sorry for the crappy ending, I have the mild case of writer's block... .

Free practice of flames here!

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