"Where is it?"
She was at that age now. When what she wore meant everything.
Forget that she was a kunoichi, forget that she had spent the majority of her life living in perpetual fear of her youngest brother, and forget that she was Sabaku no Temari.
She was sixteen years old. And she was vain.
"I look fat without it." She whined to her mirror, turning slightly and placing graceful hands upon wide hips, crinkling the cloth of her shirt at the waist as she did so. The hands removed themselves and the wrinkles faded, erasing most of her figure in the process.
How annoying. If she went out like that, people might actually confuse her with one of the girls that lived in this village.
And that, Temari decided with a shake of her golden head, would most definitely not do.
And so, the delicate desert flower, who was not so delicate at all, began to wreak havoc upon the room, searching for the long red sash one would most commonly find tied in a bow just below her bust.
A few moments later, and the garment had been found buried in the coverlet of her bed. And with well practiced ease the girl wrapped the thing about herself, smirking that cocksure grin at her reflection, hands on hips, hips thrust to the side. Damn she looked good today.
Then again, didn't she always?
Long, tanned legs were bared for the world to see. Accented by asymmetrical mesh and barely hidden behind a deep purple skirt that fell to her mid-thigh; slit up the side to reveal even more. Her shirt was a lighter shade of lavender, loose and long-sleeved, serving mostly as a buffer between herself and the off-white chest plate that wrapped about her torso in the style of a corset. Layers. That was her current fashion. And her fashion was a thing that changed easily.
Unlike her hair; always done up in the four distinct ponytails. Never let down.
After all, it wasn't her fault that grotesquely unruly hair ran in her family, was it?
With that thought Temari turned, smirk (for she rarely smiled, as she looked rather fearsome whenever she bared her pearly whites) once again curving her lips, and slipped her Tessen into the back of the sash, the heavy iron comfortable against her back as she bounded through the open window.
Why not use the door?
Well, people might get the impression that she actually lived there.
And really, that wouldn't do at all.
With a pout and a sigh Temari took in her surroundings, folding her arms over her chest and glancing first one way, and then the other down the main street on which she stood. There was nothing to do in Konoha. Nothing at all. True, she was here on a 'mission', but really, that mission involved Gaara and Kankuro more than it involved her.
So she was free to take her uterus (after all, that was the reason she'd been left behind while her brothers, the blonde kid, and the Hyuuga went off after some missing nin; a known rapist) and do whatever the hell she wanted.
To bad there was nothing she wanted to do.
Temari sighed over dramatically, and allowed her eyes to glaze over the crowd. Dull people. Everywhere. She sighed once more, only to feel a tap on her shoulder. She turned, half-lidded, to pout at a dark-skinned civilian man.
"You from out of town?" He asked in what she guessed he thought was a charming sort of drawl. She nodded, deciding to pretend that she was mute.
"All the girls as hot as you are where you come from?" Nice. Suave. Very. Not. What, did she look like a civilian to him? Did she not give off the gorgeous, sex-goddess that you do not want to talk to vibe that she was going for? She decided to give him a blank, dumbfounded look.
"It's in the desert."
Cue the awkward silence.
Temari was laughing inside, and she turned her head to scan the crowd once more. Aha!
"If you'll excuse me." She ducked her head slightly, smirking as she slipped away, "That's my boyfriend."
Snickering beneath her breath, Temari lingered behind a familiar, pine-apple shaped head for a moment before bouncing, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind, allowing her skirt to ride up a little as she did so. Give the civilian a show to watch as she nuzzled against Shikamaru's suddenly stiff neck.
"Yo."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
She laughed, somehow managing to feel the heat of his cheeks, "Getting rid of a stalker. Pretend you're not gay for a couple of seconds."
"I am not gay." Hissed through grit teeth. She smirked, making a mental note to insult his sexuality more often.
"Of course not." She laughed softly, dropping off of his back and slipping her hand into his, glancing back over her shoulder at the civilian before returning her attention to the bright red Chuunin.
"Troublesome…"
"Oh come on, you just have to stand there and look delicious." She tweaked his cheek, pink tongue sticking out between her teeth, "I have always liked younger men."
He made a strained noise, glancing around nervously, "If my mom sees you…"
"What, she'll kill me for deflowering her little baby boy."
"No! She's…scary. Like…she'll think you and I are…and then…" He shuddered. Temari looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Maybe I should meet your mom."
"No!" This only made her laugh and flash him a 'V' for victory.
"I'm coming to your house for dinner tonight!"
"You're…what?"
"You heard me." She swooped down a bit, planting a kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the crowd. Shikamaru stared after her, wide-eyed.
What had just happened?
And why did he feel like his life was about to make an abrupt shift for the worse?
"That's him?!" Temari pointed a chewed-up fingernail to yet another picture in the procession of which his own mother was showing her. He groaned once more, burying his face deeper in his hands as both she-devils burst into laughter.
"I guess I get why you don't wear your hair down Shika-kun. It sticks straight up!" He scowled at both the nickname and at what she said from between his fingers. Beside her on their couch his mother was laughing as well.
"Ah! Temari-san, I'm so glad our Shika-kun met you!" She patted the girl on the knee, smiling as she stood, "He never brings any girls home! Not even Ino anymore! Says it's too…"
"Troublesome," Temari finished, nodding and grinning as she closed the photo album.
Shikamaru scowled as even his own father laughed.
"Come on," Yoshino beckoned to her husband, who pouted like a hurt puppy, "Help me with the dishes." The man's eyes seemed to light up slightly as he stood, following his wife, placing a hand on her butt as he did so.
Shikamaru turned bright red, and in doing so, turned his full attention to Temari, who was drumming her fingers against the cover of the album and staring off into space. He cleared his throat.
"What do you think our babies would look like?"
He began to sputter, "What?"
She turned oceanic eyes onto him in annoyance, "Our babies. If you and I had children together, what would the look like?"
"Scary." She chuckled.
"Especially if they got your hair."
He scowled, touching his ponytail angrily, "Yeah, well why do you always wear yours in ponytails?"
"No reason."
He rolled his eyes, sinking back into the armchair and choosing to inspect the stitching rather than reply. In the silence, they could each hear a soft moan from the kitchen. Temari sat bolt-right up, eyes widening, jaw dropping. Shikamaru frowned, pretending he hadn't heard and beginning to pick at the stitching.
"Did you…" He shook his head to cut her off, eyes focused intently on the stitching. Temari tilted her head to the side, listening intently as a slightly mischievous grin swept her face.
"You know…" He tried to ignore her as she spoke. The furniture! It demanded his full attention. Of course, he hadn't heard the rustle of cloth as she lifted herself to her feet. He did, however, feel her breath on his cheek and she leaned in close, her hands on the arms of his chair. He sank back further away, as though she were going to bite him.
"Listening to that…" She tilted her head and Shikamaru was forced to listen to the soft noises, which only caused him to burn brightly. She leaned in towards him, "Makes me kind of…" She didn't finish, brushing her lips against his. She smirked at his expression, a sort of mixture of fear, longing, and embarrassment, and settled herself in his lap.
Right then, Shikamaru decided that he was one lucky mother fucker.