Disclaimer: This is a purely self-indulgent fan-made work. I do not own Naruto, nor any other anime licenses. This will not have a real plot to it. I am not your king.

Italics Thought

Things were never easy with her.

He supposed that's why he was lying on the sun-baked roof of the hospital in the middle Sunagakure wishing he had some clouds to watch- anything to take his mind off the inevitable, life-altering event that was taking place only a few floors beneath him.

Temari Nara was giving birth to their second child.

It wasn't his first foray into fatherhood, as the small bundle of tiny limbs and drooping eyelids nestled comfortably in his lap would attest to- but it may as well have been. Though, Hatsune had not been a surprise- rather a manifestation of a relationship that didn't really know where else to go. The culmination of all the hungry looks, uncertain touches and conspirators' kisses that made up their time together. Like the unspoken words that hung in the air between them, she simply was. Temari's gently sloping stomach and pensive stare of that November morning when she came to visit again after so long seemed like a memory that belonged more to yesterday than the nearly three years that had gone by.

His parents had reacted as he expected; a single arched brow and a sigh from his father and an unceremonious slap to the back of his head by his mother, followed closely by the excited chatter of a grandmother to be. There was so much planning to be done after all.

The wedding was a small, local affair. Just Temari, his family and a few select friends were there to watch as the couple traded the vows of commitment and fealty. To Temaris credit, she didn't punch her groom too hard when he suggested she not drink the customary Sake for the baby's sake, and Naruto wasn't completely obnoxious for the whole proceeding, though Shikamaru suspected that it had more to do with the young Hyuuga heiress on his arm and her soft admonishments than his own self-restraint.

The next seven months were a whirlwind of hormone driven mood swings, constant and ridiculous cravings of all sorts of foods, and the occasional and much loathed "contraction scare". Somehow through the whole mess Shikamaru managed to juggle his responsibilities and take care of his newly christened wife's growing needs, something that was never easy. He found himself praying to what ever deity that could hear him to hurry along the process, maybe even just skip the remaining months to his child's birth to relieve his suffering.

When the day finally came, the couple had been in the midst of a heated argument over Shikamaru's Shogi playing habits and she had thrown a whole brace of kunai at him. This itself was not so uncommon, as she usually threw her weapons in his general direction when making a point. Not to hit him of course, but more as an intimidation tactic.

In the midst of her throw, Temari's water broke, and Shikamaru took 3 inches of solid steel in the thigh. They both ended up in a hospital bed that day.

He found himself pacing outside the door to her bedside a few hours later, pacing and gnawing at the inside of his cheeks like an agitated animal as the cries of the act of childbirth crept through the cracks in the door.

When it was all over and the screams had died down, a nurse opened the door and gestured him inside with a tired smile.

She was there. Sweating, flushed and exhausted, holding their daughter and rocking her softly, almost imperceptibly back and forth, humming some soft, nameless tune.

In Shikamaru's humble opinion, she had never been more beautiful.

Silently, he moved to stand behind her at her bedside, and together they welcomed little Hatsune into the world.

The littlest Nara in question- now a precocious and inquisitive 3 year old, snuggled closer to her father under the shade of the terrace, making a small sound of contentment as the soft hands of sleep drew her further into their waiting arms. Shikamaru had to fight hard to bite back the fond smile that tugged ever so lightly at the corners of his mouth despite the heat of the day and the worries that weighed so greatly on his mind. His eyes softened and he reached into the small wrapped blanket to tuck back that one errant strand of inky black hair that always fell out of her tiny pigtails.

"Troublesome. The whole bunch of you."

It lacked the conviction of his genin years, and for a moment his voice had cracked with emotion.

Rising slowly, taking care to keep his bundled daughter in the land of dreams, he stepped back inside the din of the crowded hospital, crossing the threshold back into the chaos of the maternity ward with even steps.

--

"Where the hell is that brat!? His wife is in there giving birth to his child for Kami's sake!"

Yoshino Nara was a force to be reckoned with; especially when she was pissed. No one knew this better than her husband; Shikaku Nara, who had spent the better part of the day trying to ignore the outbursts of his volatile wife and retreat to his inner happy place.

"Shikaku. Are you even listening to me? Your son is playing hooky on the day of his son's birth!"

If the charlie horse she gave him was any indication, fate was a cruel mistress, interrupting a particularly interesting game of strip-shogi between himself and his supple, happy-place woman. He spent the next few minutes gripping his leg and breathing through gritted teeth.

"Mom, take Hatsune for a while."

Yoshino turned her venom laced gaze on her errant son, and for a moment every single human being sitting in the small waiting room cringed as if expecting to be struck. She opened her mouth, fully intent on giving her son a tongue lashing for his absence. Shikamaru beat her to it.

"She's asleep, no yelling."

Yoshino glanced a the 3 year old as she was set gently on her lap and she immediately switched over to 'grandma mode', cooing and rocking the little girl softly against her breast. She threw him one last evil eye for good measure, but found him already headed through the door and into the delivery room beyond.

Both the Nara Matriarch and Shikaku stared at his retreating form with a single raised eyebrow.

--

Shikamaru ignored the protest of the doctors present, pushed aside the hands held up to halt his progress and cleared the delivery room in 3 long strides to his wife's side. Dark eyes met his beneath matted blonde and he brushed the rebellious strands aside, pressing his lips softly to her forehead. Her breath hitched just so, and somewhere in the darkness below the lip of her bed her hand found his.

I'm here. We're doing this one together.

Hours passed in pain, in the clamor that rose above all else. They passed in loving words and encouragement, whispered promises and blatant threats.

But the hours that passed always found them together.

Finally, after an eternity of waiting, Temari's yells reached a crescendo and the doctor at the foot of her bed crouched low, hands cradled.

There was a flurry of activity then, and the protesting wail of a newborn was heard above the din. Temari, exhausted and a frantic tremble in her voice, reached out to her child as the umbilical cord was cut and tied off and a baby blue sheet was wrapped around its shaking form.

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Nara, it's a boy."

It was indeed a boy, red faced and cranky; a wisp of Temari's trademark blond hair atop its head. She held him close, and the infant immediately calmed, slowly succumbing to sleep in his mother's arms. Skikamaru raised a Nara style eyebrow at that. Hatsune had not been a happy girl when she was born, and had stayed that way for a good hour before she calmed down enough to sleep. This one needed no such preamble, appearing to be satisfied enough in his mother's embrace despite just being born. A look of wonder crossed Shikamaru's face as he admired his wife and their newborn baby boy, the latter sleeping soundly and the former not far behind him.

"Kisho." He muttered softly, just loud enough for his weary wife to hear.

She met his eyes briefly, looking down at the second life they had made together and smiled as only a real mother can, breathing the name to herself. She barely managed the energy to nod before her eyelids dropped low and she sank into the bed beneath her, the realm of Morpheus claiming her even breaths.

He watched her awhile more, letting the reality of the situation set in.

No. With her, things would never be easy.

But that was one of the reasons he loved her so damn much.

The end

Kisho – One who knows his own.