Indigo

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. (Believe it!)

A/N: To the 20-something year old fogey who brightens my day every 48 hours or so. :laughs: So, you said snow with NaruTema or ShikaTema. I tried to give it a frigid aura. You better like it, boy, because I sure do.

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The air was full of ache and aloneness.

The snow only added to the illusion.

The park sprawled across nineteen acres of the stuff. Nineteen acres of frosted ground and sleeping boughs layered in soft powdery snow. Stillness drifted in melancholy wafts along the frozen cobblestone walkways. Measures of somber breezes skittered over the metal benches and chattered in brisk tones with the crisp mid morning atmosphere of winter.

The whites and grays of the world were punctuated by the greens and browns of evergreens. And under one such particular tree, a pine with a smug paternal air, stood Temari.

Had anyone been passing by, they would've guessed her age to be about twenty six. They would've been right. But no one passed along to guess her age, and if they had, her age wouldn't have been very high on their list of concerns.

Perfect little pearls of grief shimmered in her eyes, and her golden eyebrows were knitted together in frustration as she battled with herself to not let them spill out. She lost her battle and balled up her fists as the tears dribbled down her cheeks and into the collar of her parka. Her teal eyes shut themselves against the world and she consoled herself with the fact that at least no one was present to witness her embarrassment.

"What on earth would someone have to cry about on a day as beautiful as this?"

Her eyes snapped open and a small gasp escaped her lips. A tall, slender man stood in front of her, warm, beady eyes scrunched up in what seemed to be genuine confusion. He had a shovel hanging off his hand like some sort of weird cyborg-esque extension of his body. His black hair was slicked back into an erect ponytail and his breath was steaming up the air, mingling with hers.

"Who are you?" Temari asked rudely. Truth be told, she had an idea. The somewhat legendary Naras owned this park, and in the winter weeks, when it was closed to visitors, family members took turns staying in a small cottage on the grounds. Guarding the land against poachers, and such. This must be this week's Nara.

The man shoved the shovel deep into the snow and leaned on it. "Nara Shikamaru," he offered, "Out to shovel the paths, if you please—and who are you? The park's closed. I thought the gates were locked."

"They are," she sniffed. He raised an eyebrow. For a trespasser, she wasn't exactly crippled with guilt.

"And you wandered in anyway for a cry?"

"I didn't come here to cry!"

"Ah, I see," Shikamaru nodded, "It must be the scintillating company of the trees that drew you in."

"Shut up." Temari tried to sound scathing, but came off pouty. Gritting her teeth, she shoved past him. "I'm leaving, okay?"

A gloved hand caught hers. "I can't let you go," he objected mildly, "What if you're part of a poachers' group? What if you're planning to hunt our deer?"

She glared at him. "Then you'll know when I show up again and offer you innards of venison on a stick, won't you?"

"Ha-ha."

"Let me go!" she tried to snarl, but the words were a whine. Her temper worsened. Stupid tears really messed up everything about her.

"I'll let you go," he said calmly, "If you shovel the walkways for me."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he headed her off. "I could report you. I'm being a nice guy. C'mon, its not going to break your back, is it?"

"Then why don't you do it," she muttered. He held out the shovel and she grabbed it from his hands. He grinned, and a sudden urge to hit him on the head with the gardeners' tool rose up in her. She satisfied herself by scowling at him and attacking the snow. He sank into the bench a few feet down the way and watched her, unassumingly.

"So, what were you crying about?"

"Nothing you need to know."

"Alright, what's your name?"

"Not something you need to know."

"Does being petulant come naturally or did you take a class?" He was teasing her now, and she didn't want that.

"Temari," she grunted, shoveling quickly.

"Must've been painful to say," he noted.

Temari ignored him. Her cheeks flushed with a healthy rose tint as the work sped up her circulation. She moved down the path, and he walked to the next bench. Twenty minutes later, her face was a full bodied magenta and endorphins were rushing through her system. He stepped in to take the shovel from her hands.

"I'll get a machine to do the rest," he smiled.

She glowered at him. "Why couldn't a machine have done the stretch I just did?"

"Because a machine wouldn't have looked half as pretty."
Temari's eyes widened. "You…jerk!"

Shikamaru laughed. It was a sharp bark of delight, slicing through the air. The flaxen haired female placed her hands on her hips as the brunet explained.

"I saw you on the security cameras. I thought I'd play a prank. Don't look at me like that; it seemed like a good idea at the time. It didn't harm you, and you're certainly not crying anymore."

Her hands pushed his chest, hard, and he fell back with a shout onto a snow drift. She headed off down the path.

"Jerk."

"Temari," he said, "It'll be okay, you know. Whatever it is, it'll sort itself out."

She didn't look back.

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The next day, there was a knock at his cottage door. He opened it, and a gust of hot air blew out and fogged up Temari's vision.

"Shikamaru?"

"Come on in," he said, so she did.

"Nice oven," she said, shrugging off her parka. He was bare chested, a worn pair of jeans riding low on his hips, and he chuckled.

"I'll turn down the heat."

"No need," she said, but he fiddled with the thermostat anyway. Throwing on a shirt, he waved at the couch in front of the crackling fire.

"Take a seat. I'll go get you some hot chocolate."

"There's no need—" she began, but he cut her off with a flutter of his hands, padding towards the kitchen.

"Marshmallows?"

"A few," she relented, following him.

"Cherry syrup?"

"No thanks."

"Lemon juice?"

"What—no," she laughed. The kitchen was done up in granite and dark wood. The window over the sink looked out over the front stoop. He grinned and handed her a earthenware mug. She sipped at it and said, "I was rude, you know. Yesterday."

He raised his eyebrows and feigned disbelief. "You? Rude? Perish the thought."

"Shut up and let me apologize, jerk."

"You must do this a lot," he observed.

"I'm sorry," Temari said brusquely, "Now just shut up, okay? I'm starting to tolerate you. I think it's the hot chocolate."

He snickered, but kept his peace. Dark eyes appraised her in silence, and she stared defiantly back until he said, "What are you looking at?"

"What are you looking at?" she retorted.

"I'm looking at you."

"I'm looking at you."
"Yeah, looking at me like you want to nail me to a wall," he muttered.

"I don't want to nail you!" she said angrily. Shikamaru blinked at her, and she reviewed what he'd said and how she'd replied. Smothering a groan, she set down her mug and made for the exit. He moved to block her way.

"Who's gonna wash that?"

She stared at him in consternation.

"You've got to be kidding me."

HE pointed at the sink. She growled something unprintable and stomped back to the mug. He leaned against the doorframe, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"So what were you crying about yesterday?"

"Didn't I tell you its nothing you need to know?"

"Oh, but today we're friends!" he laughed, "Look at you doing your own dishes in my house. Why, we're practically brother and sister!"

She glanced sharply at him over her shoulder. "I have two brothers," she grumbled, "I so don't want another."

"Husband and wife then, whatever floats your boat."

Temari flicked water at him. It fell on the Nara in sparkling droplets. He shook his head at her.

"So immature."

"Whatever," she said, "I'm outta here."

He watched her go and spoke right before she opened the door.

"It's really going to be okay, you know. It'll sort itself out."

She paused to look at him, a weird expression in her eyes. Before he could name it, she'd averted her gaze.

"Good bye, Shikamaru."

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The next day, he was waiting for her at the main gates.

"How the hell did you know I was coming back?"

"Maybe you're not as unpredictable as you'd like me to think," he smiled, offering his arm. She batted it away.

"I can walk. I have legs."

"Help me out then. I'm a klutz."

She snorted. "If you fall, I'll be the one laughing."

"If I fall, I'm taking you down with me."

They sat next to each other in a seat. The back was a grill depicting a centaur entwined with a cobra.

"You have bad taste," Temari informed Shikamaru.

"I didn't pick these."

"Well, someone had bad taste."

"What were you crying about?"

"Family troubles."

"Your brothers?"

"You don't need to know."

He sighed and curled up. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and peered intently at her.

"What?" she asked.

"I like your eyes."

"You can't have them."

He chuckled. "What do your brothers do?"

"Interested? They're both single."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm looking for a date," he said dryly.

"Gaara's in college. Kankurou works at Akasuna's." To acknowledge the facts brought pleasure to her eyes.

"The puppet shop?"

"No, the patisserie. Of course the puppet shop!"

"I know Sasori by reputation," Shikamaru yawned, "He's not quick to hire. I'm impressed."

"I'll pass that on."

"So, is it your parents?"

"My parents are dead," she said with a too-bright laugh. Shikamaru brushed her hand.

"Sorry."

"Hey, its not like you killed them."

Amusement kindled itself in his eyes again. "So, what is it?"

"Nothing you need to know," she sing-songed.

He shrugged, and drew out a cigarette. "Smoke?" he asked Temari.

"No, and if you light that thing in front of me I'll punch you."

He put it away. "Bad for your health?"

"Bad for my baby," she patted her belly. He looked taken aback. "You're—oh."

"Oh," she agreed.

"Wedlock?"

"Horny husband."

He grinned ruefully. "You should've told me earlier."

"Why?"

"I was planning on asking you out."

She glared at him. "That's not funny."

"I'm not joking. Is that what you were crying about? Your husband?"

Temari peeked at her watch. "Whoa, look at the time!"

"Temari," he protested, "Don't do this."

She stood up and kissed his cheek. "It'll be okay," she said, and walked away.

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"Let's go to your place," she suggested the next day. He nodded, and reached for the brown bag she was carrying.

"Its soup. I can carry it. I have hands."

"But you're—" the look in her eyes dared him to finish that sentence. He didn't. Rolling his eyes, he took the bag out of her hands.

"I'm not arguing your ability to a fully functional human being. Just let yourself be spoiled once in a while, okay? You don't have to be Atlas."

"Oh, yeah, carrying a thermos of soup for a few minutes really is comparable to carrying the sky for all of eternity."

"So, to pick up where we left off is it your husband you were crying about?"

"You just can't take a hint, can you?"

"Hey, I'm a fairly stereotypical man. I'll take a hint when you stop being so stubborn, alright?"

Temari laughed, like the flutter of birds' wings through a summer sunset. "Don't you need a legal permit to be so irritating?"

"Not really. A talent for the art will do."

She let him get the door, dipping her head graciously as she stepped in. "The art of irritating?"

"Yes. What's his name?"

"Whose?"

He tutted and steered her to the kitchen, where she peered through the cupboards for bowls as he took out the soup spoons. "Don't play dumb, Temari. Your husband."

"Naruto."

"Hmmm."

"You don't like it?" she asked, setting down two ceramic vessels.

"It's no Nara Shikamaru."

"It's a beautiful name. Means maelstrom. He lives up to it." A small smile touched her lips. Before he could decide whether it was sad or proud, it disappeared.

"Energetic?" he asked.

"Very," she admitted, "ADD and AHD. He's a handful, my blond boy is."

Definitely pride. But with a tinge of sadness? Shikamaru could only hope, and scold himself for hoping.

"What does he do?"

"Bug the living hell out of me. A little like you, actually."

HE accepted the left handed compliment with a soft chortle and said, "For a living."

"Works at the Toad Sage. Old Jiraiya's his godfather."

"And you?"

"This and that," she said offhandedly, moving to the sink to wash her bowl. He caught her hand.

"Are you in money trouble?"

Temari slid her wrist out of his grip and rinsed her utensils. "No, we're getting along. And even if we weren't I wouldn't take charity and you know it."

"I do," Shikamaru sighed. "So, what on earth were you crying about?"

"I have an appointment with the ob-gyn," Temari said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Let's meet for lunch. At that new seafood restaurant."

"Are you asking me out?" she demanded.

"Depending on how you'd take it…" there was a teasing lilt to his voice, but also a note of hope.

Teal eyes tore that hope apart. "Very, very badly. I'm married, you jerk."

"Happily?"

"Enough," she said, and walked out. He was left in the silence to contemplate whether that word was meant to succeed his or if it was an order to stop.

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"I want to meet him," he said at the gate. She curled a finger, beckoning him to her. He stepped forth and she pointed at an ice cream stand. Shikamaru stared at her.

"In this cold?"

"Pregnant woman's whim."

"You're faking it."

"Spoil me."

He sighed and followed her to the vendor. He smiled warmly at the duo, warm enough to melt his wares.

"What'll it be, pups?"

"Orange lolly," Temari said, "And a chocolate cone for the little girl."

"Temari, were you listening? I want to meet your husband."

"Why?"

"Because…I just do."

"Listen Shikamaru," she turned on him, her face set in a stubborn grimace, "I get it. You like me. But I'm married, and you're just going to have to built a bridge and get over it."

"Are you happy with him?"

"I'm carrying his baby. I'm not leaving him for a man I've known for what—four days?"

"That's not the answer to my question."

"Your question is so loaded with stupid it hurts my head just to think about it."

"You're not responsible for him."

"I know that."

"Can he take care of himself?"

"He's not retarded!"

"Temari," the man said sternly, "I'm no expert on these matters. But it seems to me that a woman won't risk jail just for a peaceful place to cry. You were in pain that day; you still are now. Let me help you fix it."

"You don't want to help me! You want to—you want—me!"

"Temari—"

She threw her lolly down and flared at him through fury-filled eyes. "Just leave me the hell alone, jerk!" she yelled before storming off.

"Pregnant women," the vendor said knowingly, "Highly strung."

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When he opened the door, it was his cousin.

"I'm not supposed to be here for another five days," Saya grumbled as she walked in.

"I'll make it up to you," Shikamaru promised her, "I just have a few things to take care off."

She lived in a dingy building near the docks. He took a deep breath before knocking. A bond man, taller and burlier and far more handsome than Shikamaru opened the door. A grey wife beater hung off his vast shoulders and orange pants clung to his legs. He had a terra cotta tan and luminous blue eyes. Spiked hair lanced the air over his head like a horn studded halo. He had a TV remote in one hand and a half eaten chocolate bar in the other.

"Yeah?"

"Is Temari home? I'm a friend of hers."

Naruto turned over his shoulder and hollered, "Babe, it's for you!" and then faced his guest again. "Come in," he said, opening the door fully. Shikamaru entered. The apartment was shabby and gloomy but a sense of contentment filled it up. Temari walked in from the pittance of a balcony, bundled up in shawls. Without a second glance at the dark haired man in her home she said, "Beat him up and throw him out, Naruto. He's a trouble maker."

Her husband eyed Shikamaru dubiously. "You sure? This guy?"

"No, the other stranger in our living room."

The blond shrugged apologetically and grabbed the brunet's collar. Shikamaru held up his hands. "Just hear me out," he said, "I came to apologize."

Naruto looked to his wife for a reaction. She surveyed the park keeper with wary eyes.

"I'm sorry about—all the things I implied. But…I don't want you mad at me."

"You must do this a lot," Temari mocked. Shikamaru held her gaze.

"I'm just…sorry."

"Let him go, Naruto."

The man shrugged again and released his grip on the Nara. He padded over to the couch, threw himself in it, and turned up the volume on Coronation Street.

Temari jerked her head towards the door. "You and I need to have a talk."

He nodded and stepped outside. She shut the door behind her and then whacked him upside the head.

Shikamaru blinked at her in surprise. "Ow."

"It's a good thing Naruto's too stupid to be jealous. How'd you find my home?"

"Rich people have friends in high places."

"Poor people have friends that can knee their rich friends in the groin for jerk-ish behavior."

He grinned. "I'll back off. Just don't stop visiting. I like your company."

"Duh."

"So you're not mad?"

"I'm batshit hopping pissed," she said, "But I like your company too. So I'm not going to cut you out. But if I hear a single come-on…"

"Your friends will knee me in the groin?"

"I can do that myself."

A few faint strains of a carol floated into the corridor as a door down the hall opened to let out a young redhead. He glanced towards them and nodded deferentially.

"Onee-san? Who is that? Another debtor?"

"It's a friend, Gaara. I'm okay."

Shikamaru frowned at her. "You said there were no money troubles."

"I said we were getting along. A little later each month, but we are. Now get lost before I sic my little brother on you."

"Will he knee my groin too?"

"Rip your head off, more like."

The dark haired man snorted and hugged her briefly.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Why the hell not?" she smiled.

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"You wanna know why I was crying?" Temari asked him a few weeks later. They were eating at a small diner, and Shikamaru pretended to drop his fork in shock.

"Do I ever!"

"That sort of attitude won't win you any favors."

"It won me you."

She laughed. "Sure it did. Just like Naruto won the chess tournament."

"What were you crying about?"

"Mammahood." She rubbed her baby bump. "I was terrified. I practically brought up my brothers, but this little kiddo growing in me scared the living daylights out of me that day. I'd just found out. We weren't ready for a kid in any sense of the word."

"I'll take it."

She threw a grape at him. He caught it smartly in his mouth.

"No way," she said, "This one's mine. Go get your own."

Outside, the snow sighed along the street and the wind chuckled quietly to itself.

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This just flowed right out. There was no stopping it. -.-

It was like taking a walk with a toddler. It meandered every which way and then sat down on its ass and refused to budge. It chose where to start and where to end. And I love it. :beams: