So, a little backstory… Another author and I on the site were discussing a really bizarre crack pairing. Uzumaki-Demon (—he'll be putting up his own version of this) and I were joking that the author could have come up with it by pulling their names out of a hat… Which is how this story came to life. (Because that's exactly what I'm doing with this collection of one-shots.)

I'm sure some of these will be pretty strange, far-fetched combinations… Some of these one-shots will most definitely take place in an AU, but I got so lucky with this one. Seriously, I don't usually get this kind of luck.

I don't think the set-up is too confusing—I will clearly mark when POV changes—but this first one-shot is told in a few different parts. This first one does address adult topics, but there's nothing graphic.

Shikamaru and Temari: The Next Step

Shikamaru's POV

"I'd marry a regular girl who's not super pretty or super ugly. Have two kids, a girl and then a boy…"

I don't know why it always comes as such a shock to people that I want kids. To the ones I know won't understand, I always give some fake excuse about being a simple person who only aspires to average dreams. You grow up, get married, have kids. That's just what everyone does, right? But even the few times I have tried to explain it, no one really gets it.

"It just doesn't seem like it would suit you," Choji had said once, years ago. "I mean, parenting is a lot of responsibility."

I'd never been able to put it into words, exactly. Most of the time, my dad was nothing but a lazy drunk, beaten into submission by my mother. But sometimes, when it was just the two of us, he'd get this look in his eye… Being a father added some special sort of meaning to his life. I wanted that.

Temari's POV

I don't know why it always comes as such a shock to people that I don't want kids. But if you asked the old biddies who were assigned to help me prepare for my wedding ceremony, you would think I'm the only woman on the face of the planet who has no desire to be a mother.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate kids. I like kids just fine. I just prefer it when they're someone else's responsibility. Maybe it comes from having two younger brothers and so many responsibilities so young or whatever. I never tried to analyze it too much. It's just how I am.

…

The wedding itself was fine. Nice, even. I'm not much of a wedding person. But everything went through without any problems, and all our friends seemed to be enjoying themselves, so I guess it went pretty well. Because that's who the celebration was really for. The lazy ass who was now officially my husband (and damn, I loved that man) wasn't all that enamored with weddings either.

But the war that had taken so many had officially ended, and we were the only two with concrete plans for the future. We all needed something to celebrate. So I played my part. I let my brothers jointly give me away, a bittersweet moment because, for the first time, I wouldn't be returning to Suna with them. I smiled and laughed and forced Shikamaru onto the dance floor. I held his hand for support when his mother made her toast, the only time I'd ever seen that fearsome woman tear up, lamenting on how we all wished his father could have lived to see this day.

I don't think I need to explain what happened next—it was our wedding night, for fuck's sake. (Pun intended.)

I don't know why I hadn't said anything at the time. I had noticed right away that something was missing. But I didn't kill the moment, and as punishment, I was now lying awake at this ungodly hour, stressing over it.

He'd never forgotten before. Did he suddenly expect something different now that we were married? As much as my husband respected women, his views could be a little old-fashioned. Maybe he didn't think it would matter anymore because he expected me to suddenly turn into a housewife?

I propped myself up on one elbow, the bed creaking slightly. It was just enough movement to wake him. Shikamaru opened his eyes to see me staring down at him pensively. I was trying to be as neutral as possible, but he'd gotten good at sensing when there was even a hint of aggression to my posture.

"What's wrong?" he asked groggily.

"You didn't wear a condom tonight," I replied immediately, never one to beat around the bush. The look in his eyes said he clearly wasn't awake enough for this conversation, but I wasn't about to let him off easy just because we were married now.

"…So?"

"So, you did every other time."

"I wasn't drunk any of the other times."

I stared him down, deliberating on whether or not that was a good enough excuse. There was still a slight slur to his words, but he was coherent enough. He sighed, understanding that I wasn't satisfied.

"You're being very troublesome tonight," he muttered. When I responded with a glare, he continued, "Besides, what's the big deal? You're not gonna get pregnant; you had your period last week."

My husband may have been the only one of his male friends who already truly understood how this business worked, and only because my paranoia had forced it into his head nearly the second we'd become… active.

"Yeah, but you never know." It was a clear threat. If an unwelcome surprise showed up in my medical chart a week or so from now, this could turn out to be a very short marriage. 'Til death do us part, indeed…

He was exhausted and not totally sober and starting to get irritated. "You said it's supposed to happen the week before, right? So it's not gonna happen now."

"It shouldn't, but it could," I shot back. And it wasn't just something to be difficult about, because it was sinking in that I was right. Freak pregnancies happened all the time. That's why they called them accidents, wasn't it? I'd always prided myself on making sure we were logical about our less than perfect relationship. This time of peace must have already been going to my head. I cursed myself for letting my guard down and not speaking up when I'd first realized he wasn't wearing any protection.

He saw the panic rising in my eyes and propped himself up so we were on the same level. Sounding suddenly completely alert, he said, "No more arguing for the sake of arguing, okay? What's really going on? I know you don't want to give up your career right away—"

"I don't want to give up my career at all," I cut in.

"Fine," he amended, sounding a little impatient. "I'll give up mine. I'll be an advisor on the sidelines or whatever, and I'll stay home and take care of the kids."

I couldn't help my incredulous stare. "You want kids?"

A flash of annoyance took over his expression. He looked more exasperated than I'd seen him in a long time. "Seriously? You too? You know, just once, I'd like someone's response to be, 'Really? That's awesome that you want a family; I'm sure you'll be a great father.' Not once has anyone ever thought I was up to it."

"Never?"

"No. Never. Not even my best friend. Not even my mother."

I continued to stare, feeling kind of guilty. This whole time I'd thought we'd been on the same page about our child-free future.

"That's so… selfish!" I burst out at last, knowing my hysteria had not yet passed and I had failed utterly at finding the right words. "It's my body you could potentially be destroying!"

This was an alternate possible future I didn't want to condemn myself to. Granted, it didn't always happen. But I'd heard stories of former kunoichi whose bodies had just never been the same after childbirth. Even if they had been planning to return to the line of duty afterwards, it just wasn't an option anymore.

"Fine," he countered coolly. "I could find a surrogate."

"Oh, like hell you will!" If he was going to be raising his child, it certainly wouldn't half belong to some other woman!

"So what do you suggest? Adoption?"

I could feel myself wavering. The guilt had returned with a vengeance, and I could tell he was torn as well. I was stunned by how much he wanted this, but I knew he'd never force me into parenthood if I wasn't up to it.

"Look, can we… talk about this in the morning?" I hated the way my voice quavered, but he just sighed.

"Yeah. Sure." He kissed me goodnight again, laid down, and fell back to sleep.

In truth, we didn't talk about it again. Not for years. Later, when all our friends were having kids, Shikadai kind of just… happened. Shikamaru was straight with me from the beginning. The option to not have him was always on the table, but I couldn't take that away from him.

Up until the day of his birth, I wasn't sure how I felt about becoming a mother. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be any good at it. But in the end, I surprised myself. Now I can't look at him without smiling. Our son—that bizarre mix of the two of us. I love him, and sometimes that makes all the difference.

Review please!

I don't own Naruto.

I'm not sure how often this will be updated. It is very much a side project while I'm trying to complete some of the other stories I have up on this site, but it seems fun and could go on potentially forever, so I feel no real rush.