a/n Hey friends, welcome back! It's been a long, busy week; I plan to party tonight and sleep all weekend, lol. Also, I'm turning 29 on Sunday, which is kind of neat...though I feel kind of ancient...:X

I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I always think of Suna as a middle-eastern country. In my brain, Suna is kind of like Egypt, while Konoha would be a lusher country, maybe like Lebanon, or even a country farther north. A lot of Temari's curses are borrowed from Arabic and Israeli curses, or inspired by them; whereas a lot of the Konoha curses and sayings are based more on softer curses from Eastern Europe. I thought it would help set up the dichotomy between the harsher Suna and the wetter, and thus more laid back and open, Konoha.

A lot of authors conceptualize Suna and Konoha as having a Mexico/USA relationship. Maybe since I haven't been to Mexico, but I have lived in the Middle East a few times, I feel the Middle Eastern relationship more. I thought you might be interested in my process around this chapter, so let me know if you like how this plays out:)

Special thanks to Dreamingcynic for her pep talk re: this story. I beta for her, and her fics are really great, so check'm out, okay?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Published to "Night Time" by The XX


Chapter Seven: There Is No Such Thing As Zombie Plague

"Ino, there is no such thing as Zombie Plague," Shikamaru moans, holding his hands over his ears. "Can we please discuss the upcoming Suna contract, instead of your idiocy?"

Ino smacks him over the head. "But Gaara even told you that Temari has Zombie Plague! It has to be true!"

"Kankuro told me about it, too," Choji adds thoughtfully, reclining in a chair with a bag of potato chips in hand. "It sounds real to me. She was puking a lot right before she left Konoha, same as Naruto."

Shikamaru rises and begins to pace around the room. "Listen to me: as one of the Hokage's top advisors, I would know if Naruto had the friggin' Zombie Plague—"

"Would you, Shikamaru? Maybe your dad wouldn't tell you!" Ino insists, crossing her arms over her chest. "I think we should contact headquarters."

"Ino, there's no way we're going to be able to get a message through Suna lines about Temari's so-called Zombie Plague," Shikamaru retorts. "We'll have to wait to confirm it until after—"

"Oh, ho ho!" Ino shouts triumphantly, brandishing a finger in the air. "No, we don't! I can use my mind-link jutsu!"

"Ino, it's a three day journey to Konoha from here," Shikamaru counters wearily, "you're going to exhaust your chakra—"

"It'll be worth it, Shikamaru! We have to know about the Zombie Plague. If we don't—"

"Wait, wait! Ino-chan, Shikamaru, I have a better idea." Choji grins and procures a three-pronged kunai from his bag. "Remember? Naruto-kun gave us a Hiraishin kunai, just in case. We won't have to waste Ino's chakra; we can ask Naruto himself."

Shikamaru stops pacing and plops himself down in a hard-backed chair. "Fine—whatever it takes for you two to see reason. Choji, call away."

"Right!" The kunai glows gently as Choji funnels chakra into it; there is a hissing sound, like water hitting a hot stove, and a yellow flash.

"Hey, how's my favorite team doing!" Naruto calls, grinning widely. "Everything okay?"

"Naruto," Ino blurts out before Shikamaru can get a word in edgewise, "do you have the Zombie Plague?"

Naruto blinks at them in confusion. "Wha…? You called me all the way out to Suna to ask me that? You realize this thing takes chakra, right?"

"See!" Shikamaru shouts, triumphant. "There's no such thing as the Zombie Plague!"

"Whoa, whoa, I didn't say that!" Naruto cries. "I totally do have the Zombie Plague. I've been telling everyone that for weeks, but no one will believe me. I can't believe you called me here to tell you something so obvious…"

"Oh my gods, Shikamaru, you totally DID give Temari Zombie Plague!" Ino squeals, throwing her arms over her head.

"Whoa, Shikamaru, you did that? You bastard!" Naruto cries, placing his hands on his hips. "Why would you do something like that? Temari doesn't deserve Zombie Plague—it sucks! And I should know. You feel me?"

"Naruto," Shikamaru grunts, "go back to Konoha."

"Geez guys. You really know how to make a guy feel welcome." And with that, Naruto is gone just as quickly as he appeared.

"Shikamaru—" Ino begins, but she's cut off by Shikamaru himself.

"I'm going out. I need to think," he rasps, massaging his aching temples. "We'll discuss the contract tonight at twenty-o'clock sharp, okay?" Before anyone can disagree with him, he leaves their suite and practically runs out of the inn.

There is absolutely, positively, no such thing as a Zombie Plague. None! Ino had told him Temari's convoluted explanation of the so-called plague—it had defied all common sense!

Apparently, Temari is criminally insane in addition to being infuriating, termagant, and all around impossible! Even if there is such a thing as the Zombie Plague, why would it target only women? And if it effects only women, why does Naruto theoretically have it—the fact that the Kyuubi is female does not explain anything! It only makes the whole situation more ludicrous, in his opinion.

Even if the fabled plague is real, how is Shikamaru responsible if Temari does have it? How on earth did he give it to her? Unless the Zombie Plague is a sexually transmitted disease—now there's an image—he did not give her the Zombie Plague. Shikamaru is fairly sure that he, himself, is not a Zombie; ergo, he cannot give someone else the Zombie Plague.

"I can't think under these conditions!" Shikamaru mutters to himself. Well, to be honest, he's yelling at himself, and the people on the street are all staring at him like he's nuts. Still muttering, Shikamaru begins running as fast as his legs will carry him, until he's out of the gates and traveling over the wide sand dunes.

Once he's out of civilization, he slows his pace and looks around. There are no rocks to sit on, no trees to sit under, and no clouds to look up at. Kami, I hate it here. How he wishes he had just one gnarled oak tree to sit under. Instead, there is nothing but the harsh, westering sun, endless sand dunes, and an empty sky.

Shikamaru plops himself down on the sand. He's on one of the training fields, he's not sure which one—all the sand dunes looks the same to him—but he's sure no one will be practicing this time of day. It's late. The evening chill is going to settle in soon, and the inhospitable night creatures, like sand cats, scorpions, and tarantulas as big as a man's head, will soon be out.

Good. Maybe they can eat me. Being eaten by various and sundry wild beasts sounds appealing right about now. It's definitely better than one irate sand princess, two gullible teammates, and one idiot Hokage-in-training. Stupid Naruto; why did you have to invent Zombie Plague? This is all Naruto's fault, obviously, for fabricating a fictitious disease.

Seriously, besides giving Temari an imaginary plague, what did Shikamaru ever do to deserve being treated like a leper? Shikamaru's brow furrows as he is lost in thought. He thinks until the sun sets in the red sky, until the liquid stars speckle the night, and a full, pregnant moon floats in the purpled east. After a while, he gives up; he's due to meet back with his team in twenty minutes, and he is no closer to solving this conundrum than he was before.

"This day could not possibly get any worse," he mutters to himself, blinking up at the cold stars. It is at that precise moment that a gust of wind picks up out of nowhere, lifts Shikamaru up into the air, and dumps him on his ass about twenty feet away. It's not a windstorm, oh no. Even though it feels slightly different, he would know this chakra signature anywhere.

"Temari," he calls from his landing place, "I can't feel my ass."


Temari has broken every single newly installed training post in her private field. She feels awfully accomplished. The sun, as if in recognition of her bad-ass deeds, is dyeing everything rutilant as it sinks in the west. She slings her fan over her shoulder and proceeds towards home.

One thing is bothering her as she strides towards the village gates: something seems to be off about her chakra. Not quite wrong, just…off. Her jutsu seems weaker than usual; her chakra more frayed. Her book never mentioned anything about this; could it be a symptom of pregnancy? If it is, the book won't help at all, since it is written for civilian women. Maybe her doctor will know? She does have an appointment tomorrow…

Tch. What do doctors know? Temari thinks with ire. She pauses in her journey to look out at the sun as it sinks out of sight, fading from a glimmer on the horizon to nothing, leaving a sea of red in its wake. Temari loves the sunset over the desert, the wide, expansive view as the sun dies and the stars bloom in the clear sky. Grinning, she sits down on the warm sand and watches the evening sky come to life.

At last, the cold evening winds come breezing in, and Temari rises once more, making her way towards the gates. She catches something out of the corner of her eye, a black lump where there should only be sand. It's not a shadow; it lacks the fluid grace of the desert shadows. It's definitely a person. But who would be stupid enough to lay out on the sand at this time of night, when fearsome predators come out to stalk?

As if her thoughts have summoned bad luck, she can see a sand cat slinking towards its unsuspecting victim. Temari reaches out with her chakra to see if the person laying on the ground is dead or alive: just her luck, it's Nara Shikamaru.

"Hey!" she roars. "You're about to get eaten by a sand cat, doofus!" But she's too far away, and Shikamaru can't hear her. Temari doesn't think, she just acts; she unfurls her fan and sends out a mighty gust of wind. Though her chakra spirals and hisses unevenly, it still sends the sand cat flying; however, Temari knows that this will not be enough to scare it off.

Fast as the wind itself, Temari leaps over the dunes, her sandaled feet sending the sand flying in all directions. Just as the sand cat regains its bearings, Temari lands between the predator and its prey. Its yellow eyes regard her warily, debating on whether it should pounce or flee—

Temari doesn't give it any more time to consider. She roars, the cry of a sand cat challenging another to battle, while she flares her chakra. Evidentially, Temari is not worth the bother, for the cat gives her a look filled with distain and stalks off into the night.

"Temari," Shikamaru hisses from behind her, "I can't feel my ass."

Temari can feel herself snap. "You dunderhead!" she shouts, turning on him. "You shit-eating dung beetle! A meerkat has more sense than you do! What the hell were you thinking, lazing about at twilight?"

"I was minding my own business, that's what I was doing," Shikamaru grumbles, rising on wooden legs and rubbing his abused rear-end.

If Temari was angry before, now she is absolutely livid. Without warning, she comes at him with her fan and whops him over the head. "Son of a donkey! You should eat burning poison! I rescue you from a hungry sand cat, and this is the thanks I get? I should kill you myself for being such a pair of testicles," she snarls.

Shikamaru, far from being gobsmacked, shoves his hands into his pockets and frowns. "I think I could have protected myself from an itty bitty kitty, princess—"

Temari gives an inchoate cry of frustration before stalking off. "I should have let you become cat meat. I don't know what I was thinking, saving your sorry ass yet again!" she cries over her shoulder. Though of course, she knows the answer to her own question; Zombie Plague, her unborn child, would never forgive her if she let its father die a gruesome death at the hands of a desert cat.

Her eyes sting with tears at that thought, though she does not slow her pace. She's overwhelmed—she's angry, and sad, and other weird things she cannot and does not want to name—and she just can't take it anymore. She's about to break into a run when she feels a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Temari snaps, trying to twist away, but Shikamaru holds on firmly.

"Temari—I'm sorry. Thank you for saving my stupid ass from the sand cat."

She stands there staring at him for a long moment. "I should have just let you die," she replies. She wants it to sound angry, but it doesn't, because her voice breaks on the last word.

Her words seem to amuse Shikamaru. "It would have been pretty pathetic if I survived rabid zombies, but got eaten by an ordinary wild animal instead. Not very heroic, I guess."

"Being heroic is for suckers," she snaps, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "What the hell are you doing out here, anyway—besides trying to get yourself killed?"

But Shikamaru ignores the question, and instead replies, "It's nice that you're actually talking to me normally, and not playing at being queen bitch."

Temari growls low in her throat. "You have a death wish, don't you?"

"Can we…just be friends?" Shikamaru mutters with a sigh.

"No."

Shikamaru sighs again. "Can we…be…not enemies?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know! Why are you asking me these questions?" Temari cries, waving her hands in the air.

"Can you at least treat me like an acquaintance, and stop with all this formal crap?" Shikamaru shouts, exasperated beyond all measure. "No more Nara-san—it sounds like you're talking to my father—and I'm sure as shit not calling you desert princess anymore. Come on, Temari. Please?"

Temari doesn't answer; she swings her fan back into its sheath on her back and chews the inside of her cheek. "I don't know," she answers at last. "I just—don't know."

"Temari, what the hell did I do? Can you just tell me what I did wrong? Whatever it is, I'm fucking sorry! I'm really, really sorry—you have no idea how unbelievably sorry I am. Do you know how miserable I've been since you dumped me?"

"I didn't dump you," Temari replies slowly. "We were never dating."

Shikamaru smacks himself in the face. "Woman, what the hell is wrong with you? Can't you just tell me what I did wrong?"

"You gave me Zombie Plague," she blurts out.

"Temari!" he shouts. "There's no such thing as Zombie Plague!" His words seem to echo in the hollow night; they stand there, Shikamaru breathing heavily, and Temari staring down at her shoes, for what seems like a long time.

At last, Temari glances down at her belly and replies, "Tell that to the Plague." And then, she is gone in a breath of wind, having shushined away without warning; his hand, which had been gripping her shoulder, falls through the empty air to his side once more.

"Dammit. Dammit! I'm such an idiot," Shikamaru mutters to himself. For a genius, he wasn't very clever just now. He shuffles back to the village gates wishing he knew what it was that he did wrong—why it is that Temari will not forgive him. As he nears the inn, he begins to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the Zombie Plague is real and it is his fault, somehow.

But that couldn't be true—could it?


a/n lol, I had way too much fun writing this chappy. Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know via your kind review:)