A/N: Set during Part Two/Shippuuden.

Chicken's Done

Ino answered the door before Chouji had a chance to knock. Such was the astuteness of the Chunnin kunoichi.

"Hi, Chouji," she greeted him cheerfully. "Come on in. I know we said that we were going to head to the training grounds at eleven o'clock, but I found this cool Western recipe for making chicken, and I've been working on it all morning. It's an Italian-style dish, called chicken marsala. Being the connoisseur that you are, I thought you might like to have the first bite. If you like it, we can spar for an hour and come back here for lunch."

Ino's enthusiastic monologue kept her from realizing that Chouji had not said a word since she opened the door.

"Well, aren't you going to come in?" she asked, exasperatedly.

Truth be told, Chouji had refrained from speaking not because he had a chip in his mouth, but because he had a frog in his throat. Like most other ninja who relaxed on their days off, Ino had made a habit of wearing t-shirts and pajama bottoms around her apartment. "Nobody to impress", she had justified. However, on this particular day off, she had opted to wear flannel pajama pants and a white, scoop-neck t-shirt...

...without a bra.

Chouji gulped, and stepped inside. He did not know if it was because of the chicken mar-something-or-other (he had not heard her over the roaring sound of her nipples pointing at him) baking in the oven, or because of the Konohan summer sun, but Chouji found himself extremely warm at that moment.

"Have a seat, Chouji, while I get a sample of this chicken for you," Ino went on, as she rushed into her kitchen for a forkful of the dish still hot from the oven. "You're going to love it," she assured, bending over the coffee table to hold the fork to his lips.

Giving him an eyeful instead.

Straining to hold onto the last vestige of propriety and gentlemanliness, Chouji pointed his eyes to the ceiling and obediently tasted the food Ino offered him. His other senses, mainly taste, kicked in, reminding him that this was unexpectedly good food. Just as he opened his mouth to tell Ino so, his eyes mischievously shifted downwards, catching a glimpse of Ino's...generous...attributes.

Instead of drawing in breath, he drew in marsala, and promptly began to choke.

Ino frowned. "You know," she began, irately, "I tried it myself, and it's not THAT bad!"

Chouji cleared his throat as best he could, and amended the situation. "No, no," he coughed, "it just went down the wrong pipe, that's all. It's amazing, Ino. I've never had anything like this before. If the offer's still good, I'd love to have lunch with you today."

Ino smiled, pleased at the compliment. "Get yourself a glass of water while I go change, and we'll get going," she said.

It'll take a lot more than a glass of water to get over this bird, Chouji thought, foregoing the water and going straight for the ice cubes in the freezer.

--------

Ino looked on as Chouji grunted in discomfort, silently cursing himself after having fallen victim to yet another one of Ino's newly-developed attacks. She smiled, content that she had finally figured out a way to ruin Chouji's concentration during ninjutsu practice.

All it had taken was a little...'chicken'.

--------

FIN

--------

Author's Note: Like the double entendre? Review, pretty please (with chicken on top)!