A/N: Y'all. If you read this story, PLEASE LEAVE ME A REVIEW! And forgive me for all the Southern stereotypes you'll run across. Roll Tide anyways.


Archetypes

The City Girl

Temari couldn't remember ever flying coach. Even during the brief period of financial uncertainty her dead father left behind, she and her brothers never sank below business class.

She was a first class kind of women, the firstborn child in her wealthy family's latest generation. The Sabakus might have originally risen to the top through decades of notoriety, but that reputation was close to being shattered.

A graduate of Harvard Business School at the unlikely age of 23, Temari quickly became a force to be reckoned with on the east coast. Her brothers followed suit, and when their father's will left Temari in charge, the two eldest siblings mutually decided to turn the title over to their youngest brother.

Four years later, with the most capable as Chief Executive Officer flanked by Temari as Chief Financial Officer and Kankurou as Chief Operating Officer, the Sabaku children, better known by their moniker the "Sand Siblings," brought about an era of unprecedented respect to their once daunting name.

So why the fuck was she flying coach?

The answer lay in Temari's destination – Birmingham, Alabama. She had no reason to protest when Gaara assigned her to this particular convention. He was the head of Sabaku Corp. but more importantly he was her baby brother. She'd do anything he asked her to.

Regardless, never in her life would she turn down this opportunity. The Global Business Forum, the world's leading business symposium, held their conferences only once every four years. Most businesses worldwide desperately work to impress the GBF council, but only the best receive the sought-after invitation.

Temari and her brothers set a record (a made up record. Only Temari kept track of things like that) when they were offered the chance after just one cycle at the helm of their company. And since GBF invitees become members for life, the young trio basically guaranteed an easy ride to the top.

But seriously, no one told her to expect this level of shittiness.

The state of Alabama must have paid a shit ton of money to convince GBF they'd make a good host city. Temari wondered how many preachers' daughters it took to change the minds of the council.

She could've sworn Milan was on the list for 2012. With other potential cities like Rio de Janeiro and Seoul, why Birmingham? How the fuck did it even qualify to be on the same list as some of the greatest cities in the world? Maybe they meant Birmingham, England, and in some freak accident selected its Alabama counterpart instead.

It didn't matter anymore. She was already there. She'd just have to forget about the complete lack of amenities this city offered. The airport didn't have enough runway space to land private planes, and they didn't have contracts with any first-class airlines. What a barn for an airport, she chuckled to herself, too bored and pissed to do anything else.

Sure, she was brooding like a total bitch. Grumpiness makes a bitch out of everyone. At least she was acting out of character, something she proudly acknowledged. She usually never dwelled on her wealth. She wasn't one to flaunt colorful cars or close down malls to shop.

Her family came from old money, and she new better than to take complete credit for her success. As far as she was concerned, the foremost reason for her success in life was her parents' decision to fuck the night she was conceived.

There was some work on her part. Very hard work at that. After all, you don't graduate summa cum laude from Princeton at 19 and double major in a span of two years without spilling blood, sweat, and tears. You certainly can't successfully expand an already thriving business with your siblings and make your company even better than it already was without wanting to jump out a window at times.

Still, she knew fully well how lucky she was.

But fuck that shit.

Right now Temari cursed her heiress status. She'd never known anything outside of luxury. Observation was one thing, but actuality was a whole 'nother. Back in her office she could often see people at a bus stop, waiting for their only way of getting home. Every now and then, broke college students would pass by her building carrying bags of the only groceries they could afford.

She never had to experience things like that. She was born into a world filled with high standards, but was that her fault?

Nope, she thought. She didn't care if she was an embarrassment for getting upset in an average situation. For once in her life, Temari let herself believe she was above dirty seats. Above stale air that smelled like peanuts. Above pooping babies and the mothers that ignored them.

Screw Gaara. This was a trip for Kankurou. He would have slept through this flight and found a dainty Southern girl to fuck in his hotel. Whatever. It would be over soon.

She stepped off the plane expecting to find relief. Instead, after walking the distance through the jet bridge, she got a face full of the South. She had never heard the phrase "Roll Tide" before in her life, but it seemed to be a staple of Alabamian language. She saw a Pizza Hut to her left followed by a soft serve ice cream stand to its right. And whaddya know? A line of 11 people eager to get their fat hands on greasy cheese and fudge toppings. Sighing, she thought, Yup, I'm a total bitch tonight.

She grudgingly used the restroom, despite being appalled by the people and the room itself. It wasn't actually that bad, and Temari knew that. Her annoyance washed over her the moment she stepped off the airport in New York and onto the common plane. Well, not quite then. More like the moment the male flight attendant started hitting on her.

It built and built with every passing minute until the tiniest inconveniences made her want to punch a wall. Under normal circumstances, Temari wouldn't even notice bumps in the carpeting or slow walkers. She needed excuses to vent, even if that meant glaring at everyone and everything.

My bags better be here by now, she bitterly thought and made her way down the escalator to the airport's only other floor.

She knew better than to look for a sign with her name on it. No town car was waiting for her tonight. Her office could only find a shuttle service run by a guy named Shikaku. Well, at least he's Japanese, she thought, as if their common ethnicities would magicly provide some sort of new hope for her day so far.

It turns out her bags weren't there yet. She made her way to rest on a bench – more like a low table that people happened to sit on – but eventually decided against it.

Thinking of ways to pass the time, she considered walking the length of the airport and back, a feat she probably could have accomplished in less than a hundred steps. She thought to make conversation with a fellow passenger, only to realize that she hated everyone. Giving up, she chose to watch and wait for that rusty metal conveyor belt to start moving.

Looking through the blurry windows into the even blurrier night, Temari tried to spot her shuttle. Taxi. Hummer. Another taxi. Ah, there it is, she cynically celebrated. At that moment the sirens started to ring.

"Attention passengers from Flight 209 from New York to Birmingham. Your luggage is unloading on Carousel 1. Many bags look alike so please be sure to check the tags before you claim your luggage."

Naturally, her bags were the last to arrive. But they arrived, and that's all Temari cared about at that moment. She headed for the exit, opting out of the revolving door she just witnessed an old couple get stuck in. With both hands handling her rolling bags and expecting the alternative exit to open by itself, she walked head first into the glass door.

"Ugh," she grunted in frustration while turning around to open the door with her back. She struggled to drag her bags through the narrow entryway. "Thank you, officer," she faked to the policeman who held open the second door. I'll put up with your lingering eyes if it means getting out of here, you mother fucker, she simultaneously thought.

One step closer to peace and quiet, she reassured herself. The only redeeming thing about this trip so far was that her staff kindly booked out her shuttle. The small family-owned business didn't hesitate to accept the extra cash in return for her guaranteed trip alone.

She approached the van, squinting at the man in the driver's seat. He looked up at her and stared for a moment, then rushed out of his vehicle. Temari took in his height as he stepped around the van. He looked clean, something Temari greatly appreciated. In his white shirt and blue jeans, with piercing eyes and tied black hair, he guardedly spoke in a clear voice.

"Temari Sabaku?"

"That would be me."

He looked her in the eye with the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. She couldn't help but match his gaze. He broke contact and reached for her bags, wordlessly offering to rid her of her luggage.

Temari watched him work and couldn't help but notice the contrast in their attire. Here she was in a $500 tailor-made suit watching as this plainly-dressed stranger loaded her bags in the shuttle's trunk. She didn't really care, but she wondered if he did.

The trunk doors shut and he came back around, this time opening the passenger's door. Was he going to say anything? She couldn't help but wonder. Seconds passed as Temari waited for him to speak. Fuck it, she inwardly cursed and climbed into the van. He shut the door, only taking his eyes off her to walk to his respective side.

Key in the ignition, the engine turned on and Temari finally got her wish. Or so she thought.

"So you're headed to Huntsville?"

"What?" she said in a panic.

"The person who made your reservation said you needed to reach Huntsville."

"For some sort of business convention. Global Business Foundation or something like that."

"Hm. Do you mind if I call someone real quick?" she asked.

"Not at all."

She pulled out her iPhone and dialed her secretary's number.

"Jonathan, what city is the symposium in?" she burst. "Why didn't you tell me that, then? You didn't think I need to know information like that? Ugh. At least tell me what hotel you booked. It better be good." She dejectedly hung up. "Well, I guess I'm headed to Hunstville. How long is the drive?"

"Two hours."

Temari let her head fall back on her seat, giving in to defeat. This day fucked her over. Utter misery clouded her mind.

"You can fall asleep if you want to," her nameless driver quietly said.

She damn well wished she could.


A/N: Oh, brother. Let's see.

I live in the South, though I'm from San Diego. Birmingham and Alabama in general aren't at all what I made them to be. Everyone should give the South a try. Southern hospitality beats just about anything. As does college football.

For the record, I know absolutely nothing about the business world and New York. I'm totally making everything up.

I wrote a smaller version of this and then decided to beef it up the only way I knew how: with boring and unnecessary filler. I applaud you if you managed to trudge through it all the way to the end. And I thank you as well.

I'm a total sucker for office romances. Same with poor boy/rich girl stories. Add those two archetypes and throw in where I live, and this is what I got.

I exaggerated just about everything in this story. I'm worried that it's hard to believe. But I had to so things hit you as hard as they hit Temari. The Things They Carried put it nicely. "It wasn't a question of deceit. Just the opposite: he wanted to heat up the truth, to make it burn so hot that you would feel exactly what he felt."

I really doubt these are the personalities you personally attribute to Shikamaru and Temari. It's pretty ideal for me, though. I like a responsible Temari and a reserved Shikamaru. I actually wanted to post this on fictionpress but figured more people would read it if I made it a Naruto fanfic. So forgive me if they seem completely out of character. I'll try to fight it. All I want are reviews!

This author's note practically took up a third of the word count, and that's totally fine by me.

Oh, and hey! Check out my profile because I'm lonely! Feed me with your attention. I'm hungry for some lovin'.