Um, big long chapter here. Haha.

Chap. II: The Date

"Attraction is not a choice."

– David DeAngelo

The day had been simply troublesome.

First, he had awoken to find Ino glaring at him through the crack in the door way. She claimed to have been waiting for him to awaken so that she could "educate him on the proper date behavior" before he "went out there and made a fool of himself" in front of the "woman of his dreams".

"She's not the woman of my dreams," Shikamaru had corrected her.

Ino looked at him gravely. "Trust me," she said simply, and Shikamaru had a very bad feeling about that.

After dragging him out of bed, Ino had strapped him to a chair with a morning bowl of oatmeal and pulled up a white board in front of him. He sat in wordless silence as she drew different pictures in different colored markers and pointed to them to show what they meant and how they affected him.

"Look," she said, pointing with a kunai to a minute stick figure with four pony-tails in front of a house, drawn all in purple marker. "Here she is, and here is the restaurant." Ino then drew his attention to a little shack drawn in blue. "You are going to pick her up at eight o'clock sharp, got it? And then, once the date is over"—Ino pointed back at the stick figure and the house—"You will walk her back home. Understand?"

Shikamaru made no answer. He simply fished through his oatmeal with the spoon for the thousandth time and rolled his eyes up toward the window, wondering why the clouds always looked better on days he was held in captivity.

"Now," Ino said defiantly, holding her kunai at eye level. "Time for behavior lessons."

"Behavior lessons." repeated Shikamaru.

Ino ignored him. "Now to make this date go well, you just… Be yourself, alright?" Shikamaru shot her a look, as if to ask, Are you kidding me?

"You know what I mean," snapped Ino. "And whatever you do, do not fall asleep."

"What a pain in the neck," Shikamaru moaned, but Ino continued as though she hadn't heard a word.

"Talk to her. Engage her in conversation. Be charming, romantic, and witty if possible. You're smart; talk about something impressive. Also, it wouldn't be a bad idea to show her how interested you are in her."

"I'm not interested in her."

Ino towered over him. "Yes," she replied, "you are."

Shikamaru's mouth thinned into a bored line. "Right," he said sarcastically, "how on earth could I have forgotten my unconditional love for the woman who threatens to beat me with her fan on a regular basis?"

"That's the spirit." Ino shot him a thumbs up and tapped the kunai back on the board, where he saw that she had now drawn a slouched Shikamaru and a Shikamaru with correct posture with a circle around it.

It had been a good while since Temari went on a date. The restaurant was a small place that looked cozy enough—she had stopped by the place to check it out earlier that morning.

As for her concerns on what she would wear, Temari decided on a close fitting, deep purple, sleeveless dress. It didn't come down too low, and it wasn't too shiny, but, as Temari admired herself in the mirror later, damn, did it look good.

Now all was left was Shikamaru coming to pick her up.

And, of course, the slacker didn't seem to be moving fast enough. Temari was told that he would be picking her up at eight. It was seven-till, and unless he was just around the corner, he was definitely failing number one.

That didn't look like a promising start to their future together. Temari smiled happily at the thought.

Just to refresh her memory, Temari withdrew the list and a pencil from her purse secretively. She tapped the pencil on her cheek pensively, wondering if there was another question she could add to the test… she turned around and pressed the paper to the door so she had a hard surface to write on as she thought of one.

"Temari?"

Temari fumbled a little bit with her notepad and pencil. She almost dropped it, but quickly handled the situation with her quick reflexes and shoved the materials back in her purse. Then she spun around and faced the intruder.

"Nara?" she asked and peered at him incredulously. Damn! she internally cursed. Had he seen the list? Had he read what was on it?

Shikamaru cocked an eyebrow. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" Temari asked crossly. What was he thinking, interrupting her in the middle of such a brilliant streak of inspiration? And in the confusion she had lost her train of thought!

"I'm here to pick you up for…" Shikamaru cleared his throat. "For our date."

Flushing, Temari muttered. "Oh. Right. Let's go, then."

Shikamaru shrugged. "If you insist."

They walked in near total silence for a few moments, past shops and homes and streets that she didn't know existed. They passed Ichiraku's, and for a moment she saw the familiar orange-clad ninja sitting inside, slurping down ramen.

"What were you writing down?" Shikamaru asked nonchalantly, as though it didn't matter (which, to him, it probably didn't). "I'm on time," he added as an afterthought.

"That's a first," she retorted. Inside, Temari was shaking. Damn, damn, damn! He did see! Now she wouldn't know whether he was just completing the test or if he was actually passing it.

Well, she thought miserably, she would just have to go with it.

They reached the restaurant sooner than she had expected. It was on the smaller side, but pleasant and upscale. Two elegant paper lanterns hung on either side of the doorway. Temari waited for Shikamaru to approach the door first, and when he did, he pushed through it and disappeared. Fuming silently that he didn't open it for her as well, she followed.

Shikamaru was talking to a young man behind a small counter. "Two, please," he said, and the man stepped from behind the counter, holding a couple of menus and smiling as he saw Temari. She blinked.

When they approached their table, Shikamaru pulled out his own chair and sat into it, resting his elbows on the arm rests. The man handed a menu to Shikamaru and then turned to Temari.

"…and one for the pretty lady," he said, winking. She laughed in return, but when she looked down at Shikamaru, she realized he hadn't paid the man the least bit of attention, and the fact that a different man was showing interest—however slight—in his date didn't seem to spike any annoyance. Temari frowned, and the man went away with a polite, "Your waitress will be here in a moment."

A few moments passed and Temari remained standing just behind the chair she was expecting Shikamaru to pull out for her. But when Shikamaru gazed at her and asked, "Are you going to sit down or what?" she realized that it was in vain.

No sooner had Temari seated herself than a waitress appeared, flicking a notepad out of her skirt pocket and extracting a pencil from behind her ear.

"What can I get for you two this evening?" she asked, smiling pleasantly. Temari noticed that she was uncommonly pretty. Temari wasn't the kind of girl to feel self-conscious, but she didn't much like the way that the girl was looking at Shikamaru. Or was she imagining things?

Wait, she wasn't even supposed to care. That's right. She didn't care.

Shikamaru muttered his order without even looking at the waitress. Smugness swelled inside Temari, but she too requested her meal. The waitress went away looking less chipper than before.

The pair was silent for a moment, and then Temari spoke.

"So, Nara…"

He looked up at her. His gaze was underestimating and intimidating—but worse, she was under the impression that he could see right through her.

"Um," Temari stuttered, feeling stupider by the second. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Good, good… How's the family?"

"Healthy," he grunted, blinking at her.

"Ah, that's good… How was your day?"

"Troublesome," said Shikamaru honestly.

"Oh come on, say something at least a little interesting," she snapped.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, resting his hands on the table and folding his fingers together.

"I asked how your day was," she said through gritted teeth.

"Not fun," he said simply.

"What's not fun about it?" she demanded.

"It's just been boring," he replied. Temari was slightly taken aback—did he think she was boring?

She waited for him to say more, but he had apparently lost interest and yawned. Furious, Temari almost reached behind her to whip out her fan and teach him a lesson—then she realized that she didn't happen to have it with her.

God, she thought angrily, what a stupid situation.

As Shikamaru fiddled with his napkin, Temari studied him carefully. He wasn't wearing something super fancy, but he had a nice collared shirt on and decent slacks. His shoes looked cheap but well taken care of, and if it wasn't for Temari's sharp eye, they could have passed as something expensive.

"You look nice," she stated. She wasn't quite sure what made her say it, but she waited for him to reply.

He merely looked up at her and nodded. "Thanks."

Temari's anger instantly flooded back to her as she realized he wasn't going to return the compliment. She longed for her fan again.

The waitress suddenly came back, two waters on one tray and two plates of food in the other.

"Your drinks," she said.

She set the waters down and shot Shikamaru a captivating smile. Temari ground her teeth together. If he paid attention to her when he wasn't even paying attention to his date—Temari would beat the stuffing out of him. And that was a promise.

"And here is your food." The waitress placed each plate gently in front of the pair. She sent another smile at the male of the two, but Shikamaru barely blinked at her.

"Thanks," he muttered, picking up his chopsticks. Temari watched the waitress walk away with increasing vindication.

She too picked up her chopsticks, and looked down at her meal, pleasantly surprised that it looked delicious. "Itadakemasu," she mumbled, and began to eat.

On the other side of the table, Shikamaru was rolling a piece of his meal around his plate with the tip of his chopsticks. "I forgot I don't like boiled eggs," he said sourly, watching the piece of egg as though it had personally insulted him.

Temari swallowed hard. "Are you going to order something different?"

Shikamaru raised his eyebrows, as though the answer was painfully obvious. "No. Too troublesome."

Oh, thought Temari dryly, Right. Of course.

Temari continued eating and began to look around. The walls were adorned with traditional Japanese paintings, all very beautiful. Paper lanterns that mimicked the ones outside of the restaurant hung over each table, and, looking up, Temari observed that theirs was blue.

There were quite a few other couples around, she noticed. The nearest to them was of a young girl and boy that looked no older than themselves. They laughed, ate and talked together—it was like they noticed no one else in the room.

Temari watched them for a moment, slowly smiling inadvertently. It was quite adorable.

"What's that grin for?"

Temari turned away from the pair; she hadn't realized Shikamaru had been watching her.

"Oh, nothing," Temari blushed, caught off guard at being happy on the night she was so determined to make a failure. "It's just…" she glanced at the couple again. "They look so happy."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes when he glanced over. "I dunno. Everything they're doing looks kind of forced to me."

It was Temari's turn to roll her eyes. "How the hell is it forced looking?" she demanded.

Shikamaru shrugged. "I don't know."

Temari frowned at him. "Just 'cause they're more committed to making their date successful than you are, does not mean that everything they're doing is forced," she snapped, diving back into her food and taking a large, angry bite.

Shikamaru muttered something that sounded conspicuously like "how troublesome." He resumed playing with his food, occasionally eating a few things that didn't have the dreaded boiled egg on them.

Temari ate in silence, stabbing things on her plates as a vent for her aggravation. For a genius, Shikamaru sure didn't know anything. About anyone. Least of all, her.

"Temari?"

Startled, she choked on her food. When she had regained her breath, she coughed out, "What?"

Her brain was whizzing in her skull. Was he about to ask her something? Was he actually showing interest in her? Perhaps she had judged him too soon—

Both eyebrows raised, Shikamaru stared at her. She tried to stare back just as intensely.

"Oh…" he muttered, "Never mind."

"Oh, my God," she cried, standing up suddenly. Her chair pushed back with a screech on the tile floor. "Is that all? You're not going to ask me how I'm doing or if I'm having a good time or if I like the food or anything? What kind of date are you?"

Shikamaru's eyes widened considerably. He stared at Temari like she was insane—and he wasn't the only one. A few other customers looked thoroughly alarmed as well.

Temari, sitting down quickly, collected herself by taking a large gulp of water at that moment. She breathed deeply and set her glass down very carefully as the people around her went back to their meals. Unbeknownst to them, she was livid.

"Well," grunted Shikamaru after an awkward moment, "I'm done. You finished?"

Temari, a little taken by surprise but not at all displeased to be leaving, pushed her back from her, even though she was nowhere near to being done. She had been so focused on arguing with him that she hadn't had much time to eat… or enjoy herself. She wondered if he had cut the date short intentionally to get out of there as fast as possible—it's what she would have done, had she thought of it.

Right on cue, it seemed, the waitress appeared with the bill. Temari wondered for a moment of brief insanity if she had been watching them the whole time.

Shikamaru pulled out his wallet and shuffled through it, eventually extracting some money and tossing it onto the table.

Temari stared at him expectantly. She and Shikamaru both knew that wasn't enough for the two of the meals. The waitress coughed quietly.

Shikamaru stared blandly at her for a moment before his eyebrows rose and his mouth opened slightly in an inaudible gasp.

"Oh, shoot," he muttered, shifting through his wallet again, and pulled out a bit more money. "Temari—I only brought enough money for me—"

He stuffed his now empty wallet back in his pocket shamefully. "Would you mind paying the rest?"

Temari smirked. She thought about demanding the money out of him and causing a scene, but then thought better of it. From her own purse she withdrew the remaining amount of money and handed it to the waitress.

Shikamaru sighed with relief. "Thanks. I'll pay you back."

"Its fine," Temari said waving her hand through the air as though the matter meant nothing. She wasn't sure that it actually was fine, nor why she had even said that, but it didn't really matter.

The two left the restaurant and immediately set off for Temari's house. The walk was completely silent. Temari kept shooting glances at him out of the side of her eye, just to see if he was finding this awkward or cumbersome. So far, he looked the same as ever. Bored and uninterested.

Which brought Temari's thoughts back to the date and the test. Naturally she'd have to analyze Shikamaru's results right when she got into the house, since she couldn't possibly pull out the list right here—and then she'd tell him tomorrow. Yes. First thing, right when she saw him. It would be over before he knew it.

Unless, she thought with dread, he actually passed.

Absurd, she assured herself. How ridiculous. There was no way he could have passed—not even if the divine intervened.

Finally, after a long, silent stroll, they reached her house. Temari put her hand on the door knob, but didn't turn it. Instead, she turned around and looked Shikamaru squarely in the face.

"Thank you for tonight. I had a great time," she lied.

Raising his eyebrows skeptically as though he didn't quite believe her (which she knew he didn't), Shikamaru merely nodded in reply.

"Goodnight," he said.

A cool breeze ruffled the through the street. Temari's dress fluttered at her knees and Shikamaru's ponytail bobbed gently. His gaze was quizzical, but not scrutinizing, and Temari felt as though he was trying to decipher something hidden in her eyes. His own shined very softly, like polished obsidian, and Temari felt an awkward pull to speak, to say anything, just for the sake of speaking. They watched each other for another moment before Temari turned away and disappeared inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she breathed out deeply and leaned against it. It was pitch black in the house, and she wondered if Kankuro had gone to bed—but then suddenly, the lights flickered on.

Temari blinked, adjusting her eyes. When she could see again, Kankuro was sitting on the couch, fully dressed and looking passively at her.

"Well?" he asked uncertainly. "How did he do?"

End of chapter dos. Review. (: