Your stories are frigging awesome. I fell in love with Gal Friday and it’s the best boss and Asst fic I have ever read in any fandom. You made Sakura so Bamf without Mary sue tendencies. I am desperately hoping for a small sneak peek into Sakura and Sauce's interactions at the office from Sauce's Point of view. It can just be a one-shot as I know you are very busy. Take your time and keep up the awesomeness Kuri.
AN: Well, I was eventually going to continue this one but I figured, why not, let’s treat it like a prompt/request :P Also, I’m posting early because I might not have time tomorrow and I don’t like to use the queue option because for some reason it mucks with my formatting...
Once again I shamelessly stole from Suits, but I just love the idea of Sakura Haruno being as chill and confident as Donna Paulsen. Inner Sakura is totally reigning in this fic…
Sasuke arrives work the next morning with a throbbing headache and a larger than usual disdain for the world.
He hates mornings on principle, but powers through them because he has to. Today he’s regretting that second tumbler of whiskey – alcohol tolerance is one of the few areas that he doesn’t shine – and wishing he could have just stayed in bed.
The surreal meeting with someone named Haruno feels like no more than a dream, and he thinks it’s entirely conceivable that he hallucinated her –
Except when he exits the elevator and heads into his office, there is a perplexingly familiar pink haired person standing by his desk.
What the…?
He strides forward, trying to disguise his confusion with a scowl.
“What are you doing here?” he demands, his head pulsing painfully with every word. He hopes to convey several other questions with that one demand - how did you get in the building without identification, who let you up, why wasn’t I informed?
“I have my ways,” she informs him, sounding maddeningly cheerful and enigmatic as she hands him a cup of coffee. “Here – black, no sugar and a dash of cinnamon and chili power.”
He blinks, so caught off balance by the segue that he automatically reaches for the cup.
“How do you know that’s how I take my coffee,” he asks, eyes flicking disdainfully down to the cup, all the while blaming sleep-deprivation and the hangover for his uncharacteristic malleability this morning.
“The same way I know you’ve decided to hire me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You know I’m going to hire you because I haven’t called security yet.”
“Oh, I knew you were hiring me the second you let me help sneak you out of that soiree early,” she retorts easily as he shifts in surprise – he doesn’t remember that – and continues smugly, “I did tell you I know people better than they know themselves.”
Sasuke considers her again for a further minute, and then relaxes. He’s not sure if it’s in resignation or acceptance. At least she’s dressed appropriately for work today, pink hair aside. And she brought him caffeine, which is a start.
“Fine,” he says, reaching for his chair. “When Hokumono gets in tell her –”
“Already done.”
He raises an eyebrow, only slightly taken aback. “You didn’t kill her, did you?”
“While that’s not outside of my power, no, I had Nanmono-san reassign her,” she informs him unconcernedly. As if there’s nothing outstanding about some strange woman walking into a major business and ordering a man three times her size to reallocate another employee.
“Where?”
“Shikamaru Nara.”
Sasuke’s mouth twitches, because he knows how much that will piss off the other man – and have the added bonus of ensuring he can’t nod off watching clouds. Hokumono Tayuya swears like a Yankī at the most random moments, and he’s pretty sure she would rather head a biker gang than be working as a corporate assistant. He vaguely recalls hearing that a powerful relation or something got her the job – which she kept due to the general uselessness of the former CEO and Sasuke’s own distaste for filling out paperwork.
It’s a change he welcomes, although he doesn’t tell this to the unbelievably cheerful woman before him. Instead he deflects, inquiring, “Other than firing my assistant, do you actually know how to complete administrative work?”
“Really, Sasuke-kun, you’re still doubting my abilities?” she teases, reaching for a tablet beside her. It’s this more than anything that stops him from reacting with knee-jerk annoyance at the casual form of address.
“Where did you get that?” he demands, staring at the company issue digital tablet that her fingers dance across.
“I know someone in IT,” she answers, and then passes him the device. He stares uncomprehendingly down at the screen and sees that – somehow – she’s managed to space out his double- and triple-booked meetings and appointments throughout the week according to maximum efficiency. The most important individuals are always scheduled in the morning, just as he likes it, and she has even accounted for his kendo schedule and a weekly luncheon at his favorite restaurant.
She looks as if she’s expecting him to compliment her or acknowledge his amazement at her skills, but he was raised in a family that didn’t waste praise on qualities a person knew were exceptional. She’ll learn that quickly if she expects to stay here.
“Hatake will never be on time for these, no matter how adequate you are at scheduling things,” he points out, gesturing to his Tuesday and Thursday appointments with his head of advertising.
“We’ll see about that,” she says, grinning wolfishly like she has taken that as a personal challenge. Sasuke thinks he doesn’t envy Kakashi having to face that particular resolve.
“Hm,” he says, because he has nothing to say to that.
“On that note, I have paperwork to file, and you have phone calls to return,” she goes on, passing him a notepad with neat writing on it.
“You answered my phone,” he deadpans.
“Well, Hokumono wasn’t going to, she was busy swearing a blue streak all the way down to the fourth floor. Also, your mother called – ”
“… you spoke to my mother?”
“ – She wanted to know if you were coming to your nephew’s birthday.”
Sasuke’s eye twitches. “What did you tell her?”
“That the Taka merger is today and you can’t miss it, but because you know the importance of family you’ll squeeze in a half hour on your way there,” she answers without missing a beat, “which will give you enough time to make a quick round of greetings and drop off a gift.”
“I don’t have –”
“Yes, you do, you’re giving him a giant Lego set, which is fun enough for a boy Haochizuki’s age and is educational – it helps with motor skills, fosters lateral thinking and creativity.”
“Did you memorize the brochure?” he grumbles, trying get over the constant sense of being thrown off balance.
“No, I played with a lot of Lego as a kid.”
“Of course you did,” he mutters.”
“Anyhow, given the short time frame you have, you won’t be able to stay very long – and if you greet the following guests that I’ve noted at the bottom of the page there –”
“Hold on, you know who’s attending?”
“Of course, once I called your sister-in-law to make sure the gift was age appropriate –”
“How the hell did you get Izumi’s phone number?” he demands, all ability to pretend aloofness disappearing.
She smirks at him. “Ways. I have them. Now stop interrupting, you have a tight schedule this morning and don’t have time to be basking in my awesomeness.”
Sasuke’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click.
“As I was saying, if you greet all those people I listed, you can make some valuable network connections, and also limit the amount of time you actually speak to your brother to about a minute and a half. Forty-five seconds if you stop in to compliment Inuzuka-san about his dog. It’s up to you which one you’d rather stomach.”
“Do you ever breathe?” he asks dimly.
“Only when I have to,” she chirps. “I told you – I’m not like any other assistant you could have. I’m Haruno Sakura. And I’m really looking forward to working with you.”
Again, he doesn’t know what to say to that.
It bothers him that somehow this…this person manages to put him off balance to easily, to the point he actually has to interpret what she’s saying to him because it makes no sense. He wonders if this is what it’s like for Naruto when Sasuke talks to him.
So, instead of commenting, he instead says, “Whatever,” and sits down.
“I’m taking my conference calls now – don’t let anyone disturb me.”
“You got it, boss!”
She strides confidently from the room.
“And for the record, I don’t take cinnamon in my coffee,” he calls after her.
“You will when you try that,” she replies without even turning her head.
Sasuke scowls at her retreating back through the glass windows of his office and sits back in his chair, somehow already exhausted.
How can anyone be so…exuberant this early in the morning?
Considering the merits of just firing her and finding a quiet, boring secretary – someone like Hyūga Hiashi’s daughter – Sasuke takes a resentful sip of his coffee.
And then startles at the sharp kick that shoots through him as he swallows.
Because it actually tastes good. Spicy, not sweet, and it feels like someone has hooked up an IV of caffeine directly to his veins.
“I told you so,” he hears Sakura singsong and when he glances up, she is grinning at him from her place at the desk outside his office.
Sasuke scowls at her and pointedly shoves the coffee cup away, reaching for his phone to dial his first appointment of the day.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
つづく
So, as I said, I’ll continue this one whenever the mood strikes me. It might not update as much as other stuff, but hey, when I’m inspired, you’ll get a chapter.
Summary: Sasuke frowns and puts down the tumbler and turns around, expecting one of his shareholders or perhaps one of the shark-like women from legal to be addressing him. What he encounters instead is a woman with a shock of bubble-gum pink hair and eyes the colour of seafoam, smiling at him as if she has known him her entire life. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 11 – Prompt: "CEO & Assistant"]
Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. A pink-haired dynamo will deduce you into submission should you be found plagiarizing.
Warning: Real World AU. Slight OOC? Maybe? Well, I kind of figure the Sakura of this fic is just who Inner Sakura would have been if she were the main character, so there. Some of Sakura's speech based off of Donna Paulsen and Sherlock Holmes
AN: I think I will continue this one at a later date. I like the idea of assistant Sakura and CEO Sasuke intrigues me…
Beta Reader: Sakura's Unicorn
"You know, when someone is given his father's flagship company, he can at least pretend to finish the drink his board of directors bought him."
Sasuke frowns and puts down the tumbler, turning around. He expects the voice to belong to one of his shareholders or perhaps one of the shark-like women from legal. What he sees instead is a woman with a shock of bubble-gum pink hair and eyes the colour of seafoam smiling at him as if she's known him her entire life.
He looks her over. She's around his age – early twenties – and from her posture, utterly at ease in her own skin, yet not in the aggressive way he's come to expect from the women who frequent this place. His gaze lingers a half-second longer on her hair, then he raises an eyebrow. "Have we been introduced?"
"Not yet," she replies, and her smile gets a little mischievous. "But that's why today's your lucky day."
"I see. Because, somehow, meeting you for the first time is going to be an epically life-changing moment."
A flush of colour passes across her cheeks. "Oh. Well, I was going to say something like that, but you took the words right out of my mouth."
"Hm." He decides to drink the whiskey after all and downs it one gulp. "Please excuse me –"
"Haruno," she supplies. "Haruno Sakura."
"Whatever," he dismisses, already tired of being polite. "I have to go –"
" – pretend to give a shit about kabuki dolls for Sabakuno Kankuro so he puts a good word for you with Suna Corp?" This brings him up short and he shoots her another surprised glance as she continues, "Their nanotechnology has the potential to revolutionise your company's work in the field of robotics. Especially when it comes to prosthetics. And it's no secret that you and the current CEO don't get along, Uchiha-san."
He narrows his eyes. "Are you some kind of reporter?"
"God, no." She makes a face. "I like my soul where it is."
"Then how is it you know so much about me?"
"I know about everybody," she replies, "but what I don't know is why when you were given the chance to take over one of your family's companies, you didn't jump at smartphones or defense tech. I mean, that's where the market is right now. And probably for the foreseeable future."
It's a question no one else bothered to ask him. Not even his father when he gave him the company. The whole handover reeked of indifference, really. Perhaps that's why he finds himself answering her.
"Because that's what anyone in my position would be expected to do. The decision to tackle something as vital as medical prostheses, which need to be accessible to people, yet still profitable for the company is ambitious. And it's the kind of move that –"
" – puts your name in the paper and establishes your reputation," she finishes. "Especially considering your age."
Sasuke considers her for a minute and smirks. "So, the hair is to throw people off, right?"
"I have no idea what you mean," she replies innocently, tossing the aforementioned locks. "It's all the rage in Europe right now."
"We're not in Europe right now."
"No, but with your money, we could be," she quips. "So, how about, instead of heading across nine time zones to confirm that, you buy me a drink and we can continue this conversation in the corner?"
"How about we don't and you just say what you came here to say?" he counters. "I doubt you approached me just to talk about my company. You want something."
"I do."
"I appreciate your blunt honesty," he says. "Allow me to return it – I have no interest in sleeping with you."
She turns slightly pinker, but it's not in embarrassment or shame, the way someone who has been caught out would react. Instead, it's almost in offense. "Well good. That's something we can agree on up front."
"Up front of…"
"I want to work for you," she tells him.
"I'm not a hiring manager."
"No. You're the CEO of a Fortune 500 company which is known for meticulously following every ethical guideline and standard of quality, and you're planning on making prosthetic robot arms for the underprivileged." Off his surprised look she rolls her eyes and says, "Please, if you're looking to make headlines, that's the most obvious way to do it."
He purses his lips. "And you want your name attached to that?"
He's not actually entertaining this, but he can respect someone with ambition. Which is why her next response again surprises him.
"No, I don't."
He raises a questioning eyebrow.
"Listen, I'm pre-med," she tells him. "And I can't afford school now, but one day, I'm going to be the best damn pediatric surgeon in the country. I want to work for someone whose products are helping to change the field I intend to work in, and who isn't going to expect me to stick around for more than a few years. Someone who understands that I can perform with absolute perfection, but can also accept that I need certain nights off for school."
"So, you're already asking for time off."
"Yes, but I feel I'm going above and beyond by telling you in advance."
"Admirable of you, but for all I know, you could be some deranged stalker."
"Oh, I have credentials. I just think my talents are a better selling point. A man in your position needs someone working with him who knows people. Me? I know people."
"I fail to be convinced."
"All right," she replies, her eyes narrowing at him and her jaw clenching. "Let me demonstrate." Her gaze roves over him for a split second, and then she nods to herself. "You've been overseas recently. Twice in the past month, actually. Somewhere sunny, but it wasn't recreational. Business. Probably California, more likely Arizona."
He raises an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"
"Your watch – it's the latest model A. Lange & Söhne which only came out last month. The date it's set to is two days ago which means you've crossed the dateline twice, but didn't think to change it. If you're too busy to change it, it means you were not relaxing on a beach somewhere. Silicone Valley is home to a lot of your clients which would make sense – but Arizona has a high concentration of optics companies which would be more in tune with your plans for the future."
Sasuke nods thoughtfully.
"That's an impressive trick, but that's information you could've read about in any business journal or newspaper, if you looked hard enough."
"Oh, I'm not done," she informs him unabashedly, and continues, "You're glad for this opportunity, but you really only see it as a means to an end. If being appointed CEO was something you actually wanted, you'd be wearing a better suit. That Brioni looks good on you, but it's about four years old." She peers closer and smirks a little. "The dimple in your tie is too far to the right, and considering how meticulously you're wearing everything else, that means your mind is on something else. Girlfriend or family. Probably family because you don't have a girlfriend – or want one, if your earlier response to me was any indication. In fact, you're uninterested in any kind of emotional attentions – possibly because of your family – as you completely ignored the phone number the bartender slipped you with your drink."
Sasuke has to reign in the impulse to check the napkin under his glass.
"You didn't want to come to this dinner tonight, not just because it's a family obligation, but because you're already in a bad mood."
"Why do you say that?" he asks before he can stop himself, and frowns, feeling abruptly furious with himself.
"Because of the way you hold your elbow," she states. "Like it's injured. All the magazines say you practice kendo – a shinai to the elbow is a common enough injury. It would cause massive bruising, even in a seasoned practitioner. Bending that arm is probably agonising right now, and pain makes even normal people grumpy. You're already known for disliking social situations, so this is probably making it worse. You don't strike me as the type who takes painkillers, either, so you're powering through it."
She stops, takes a few breaths, and then crosses her arms in challenge. "And that, Uchiha-san, is what I do. And considering – from what I've seen – you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, you'll need someone like me if you want your business ventures to succeed."
Sasuke sits in silence for almost a full minute, running through every bit of information she's just given him through his mind, all the while considering her. For such a tiny woman, she presents an intimidating picture, radiating stubborn will and composure at the same time.
He doesn't want to admit it, but he is impressed. He's observant by nature, but can freely admit that his lack of interest in other people stops him from considering their intentions or personal feelings. To have someone able to read a potential client or business partner to that extent would be helpful.
And having someone who has no problem waylaying irritating, blond attorneys who reek of ramen, or stalling calls from his brother that he'll return on the twelfth of never –
Well, that could be useful as well.
Sasuke snorts. "You're annoying," he informs her, but something must show in his face that her ever-observant eyes pick up because she beams.
"I'll email you my C.V. and references tomorrow morning."
"Hm." He turns back to the bar and motions for another two drinks. "Make an appointment with your hairdresser at the same time. The pink has to go.
"You're going to learn to love the pink," she informs him blithely and with the same certainty she's displayed the whole evening.
His eyes rove over her when she's not looking, and he reflects that it's possible she's right about that.
終わり
I hope you enjoyed the story! As part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!
The weird thing about travelling in Sweden is that while I don't recognize the cities AT ALL, I will immediately know that "that's the IKEA where dad fell asleep that one time!" and "wow remember that particular McDonald's where the entire family acquired a mild case of food poisoning!"
