Chapter Eleven

Unsatisfied

"This is kind of..."

"Cute?"

"Weird. Feels less like surveillance and more like peeping."

"If it makes you uncomfortable, you can look somewhere else. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Thanks. But I'll be okay as long as..."

"As long as what?"

"As long as they stay dressed, I guess."

"Aw, come on, Chouji. You had to see this coming. They're in love. Eventually they're going to...you know."

"Yeah, I know. But I sure hope they wait until someone else is on watch."

O O O

The second day in the hospital passed much like the first. It wasn't until the morning of the third day that Sakura cleared Shikamaru to get up and move around the room, and only after carefully examining him to make sure his wounds were still sealed and healing normally. He was able to walk with minimal discomfort, and he took the first opportunity to change into some normal clothes and get rid of the horrible hospital gown. Good riddance.

Temari was there through it all, her eyes on him as he was taking his first tentative steps. Things had changed since his first day in the hospital, but not in an unexpected way. They'd spent that whole day vigorously making up for all the fighting and sarcasm of their first week together, but now they seemed to be reaching an equilibrium. He could see it in her eyes as a reflection of his own feelings, that despite all the kissing and talking and mind-reading, they were still Shikamaru and Temari. They were still a couple of highly stubborn people that were going to butt heads over a lot of stupid things during the course of their lives. And kissing Temari probably wouldn't always shut her up. But they cared about each other. He cared about her. And he wanted a lot of things for their marriage. He wanted her to be happy so that she wouldn't fight with him, for one thing. And he wanted something else, something he felt ashamed for being so interested in, even though it was a perfectly normal and natural part of being married: he wanted her to sleep in his bed tonight. He wanted to spend his first night home having his wife beside him. And although falling asleep next to her was in his plans, it wasn't his most important goal.

But it didn't know if that was going to happen like he hoped, because Temari hadn't given him any particular indication that she was ready for the same. She'd been physical with him for sure, but he felt like that was more the product of her aggressive personality than an out-of-control libido. Just because they were married, it didn't mean that two days of making out was enough to make a woman comfortable with the idea of sex. He had no clue what women needed or expected when it came to that topic. And he couldn't even say for sure that Temari fit into the normal category of women, but it would likely be a huge, amateurish mistake to assume that just because she talked and acted like a man that her sex drive would be similarly motivated.

But it was on his mind as he helped Temari pack up their stuff in preparation to go home. And he found himself paying closer attention to things that he'd probably always noticed, but that had been so far out of the realm of attainable for him that he'd never bothered to dwell on them. Like her body. He wasn't in the habit of studying women's bodies, but now that he was studying hers he came to the conclusion that it was the most perfect one he'd ever seen. Not thin and scrawny by any means, but not unrealistically out of proportion, either. She was small where she needed to be, but bigger in all the places that mattered. Plus, Temari was unique in the way she displayed it. Shikamaru's experience so far had been that the skinny girls, whose bodies he'd prefer never to see, were the ones most likely to wear the least clothes, whereas the girls who probably had interesting curves tended to keep them covered. Temari kept herself covered well enough, but everything about her clothes seemed intentionally designed to draw attention to her shape. A sash wrapped tightly around her waist. The way her neckline was as low as a woman could legally wear in public, yet the view was always blocked by a flak pad or some other article of clothing. Not an unnecessary inch of her skin was exposed, but she still gave the impression that she purposely dressed this way to remind men everywhere of what they'd never get to see. He hadn't thought of her as the kind of woman to care how she dressed, but now he could see that she put more consideration into it than most of the girls he knew.

He wondered if he'd ever get used to being wrong about her.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Just wondering if your clothes are packed yet."

Once the room was clean, Shikamaru continued to walk around. Keeping himself moving while they waited for their "escorts." Dad insisted on sending a couple of ninja to follow the two of them home, as they were now under near-constant attack, and while Shikamaru was mobile, he still wasn't in top-fighting form.

So he walked. Stretched. And as he did, he thought about his conversation with Dad. Shikamaru still hadn't told Temari what he'd learned that night, despite his intentions to be honest with her. But it wasn't that he wanted to hide it from her, he just didn't know how to go about bringing it up, especially when she was already so irked at his father. But he'd made the promise to himself that he would tell her before they left the hospital today. And that meant now. They were alone for once, and he had to take advantage of this time while he had it. But when he looked at her, sitting across the room from him on the end of the bed, he found that he was no more prepared now than he had been yesterday or the day before. He didn't want to tell her. It was just going to cause more raging and more conflict.

But Temari crossed her legs, propping her hands on her knee, and gave him an impatient look. "Spit out it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Whatever secret you're keeping from me. Spit it out."

He let his eyes drop to the floor, and they fell on a couple of stray leaves from Shiho's tree. Mom had had a heck of a time getting it back through the door.

"I'm not keeping secrets," he said. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to say this."

"I'll give you some advice, then. Open your mouth, and when the words start to come out don't stop them."

"Fine," he said. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, reminded of how nice it was to have pants on again. "My dad knew what he was doing when he kept you from getting to me on time. He needed the attack to succeed to a degree, so that the public could be aware of Danzo's intentions, and you were going to get in the way of that."

Her face was blank, and he took advantage of that to plunge forward before she could get started on her ranting.

"He had it all worked out, though," he said. "Ino was there in case you didn't make it, and to help me the minute you brought me out." Then something clicked in his brain, and he added, "I think Dad wanted Ino to save me on the street, so that people would see. That's really all that matters, after all. Obviously it would be better if I live through all of this, but-"

She raised a hand, silencing him. He'd been babbling. Desperately trying to plead Dad's case before Temari came to her own conclusions. But she sagged forward, dropping her forehead into her palms.

"Thank god," she said.

That wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been expecting.

"You're...okay with that?"

"Are you kidding me?" She lifted her face. "I've been sitting here for two days, trying to figure out how I'm supposed to keep you safe, thinking your father was incapable of it. Thinking he couldn't even plan well enough to keep his own son alive. Of course I'm relieved to find out he's not a complete idiot. I thought I was going to have to handle this coup by myself." She exhaled and dropped her face into her hands again, and he heard her mumble another thank god.

"Oh," he said.

"But he's not going to do it again, is he? I don't think I can go through this again."

"No," said Shikamaru. "He said once was enough."

"Good."

They were packed and ready to go by the time their "escorts" arrived: none other than Hatake Kakashi and Uzumaki Naruto. Escorts. Right. More like a the other two members of a four-man parade. Dad even had their trip home carefully planned out to get the most bang out of his public-relations buck. They raised quite a few eyebrows as they headed through the streets, and conversations became murmurs, then whispers when their group would approach. He knew what the crowd was seeing: Kakashi, flanked by the Suna Princess and the National Hero as he helped Danzo's latest victim home. Despite the fact that Shikamaru was relieved to be out of the hospital and into the freedom of sunshine and sky, the scrutiny of the crowd was enough to make him long for the safety of home.

Most of the members of his household were there to greet him when he arrived. Something else was there to greet him, as well, but at least Dad had the tact to wait until after Shikamaru had enjoyed his lunch before giving it to him: a letter from Danzo.

Temari was already spitting obscenities before he'd gotten the envelope torn open and the letter pulled out, but he read it out loud for her benefit.

Shikamaru,

Be in my office at three p.m.

Rokudaime Hokage

"He can't possibly expect you to meet with him face-to-face now," she said. "And that's only an hour away!"

But he barely had time to form an opinion of the letter before Dad reached over and plucked it from his hand, then made a show if tearing it down the middle and dropping it on the table.

"I doubt that he does," he said. "This is probably the first step in a more complex strategy."

"So I'm just ignoring the order?" Shikamaru said. "That's grounds for arrest, at least."

Dad swallowed his drought of tea before answering. "I'll have Ino send a note excusing your absence. I'm sure she'll agree with me that you have more recovering to do. Speaking of which, neither of you is leaving this house for the next three days, unless I'm with you. Understood?"

Shikamaru nodded, heard Temari's mumble of assent.

"Thank you. But the truth is I don't expect that there will be many more direct attacks on the two of you. Danzo will be looking for other ways to draw you out." He gestured to the two halves of the letter.

"Why?" asked Temari.

Dad smiled a bit, like he knew an inside joke. "Let's just say that Gaara got word about the injuries his brother-in-law sustained in the Hokage's own building, and has made his displeasure perfectly clear."

After lunch, Shikamaru and Temari took their time putting their things from the hospital away and getting settled in. There wasn't a lot to do now that they were trapped in the house, and Shikamaru was reminded of their first night together, in Temari's bedroom. The hours had dragged by then, punctuated only by awkward attempts at conversation and the occasional visit from Kankuro. But so much progress had been made since that night. Shikamaru felt a lot more comfortable sitting in silence with Temari, while she rifled through the contents of his book shelf and he played a solitary game of Shougi. She'd turned down the offer to be his opponent, stating that she refused to play any game that she knew she couldn't win, but it was still nice to have her there, sitting on her bed and reading the copy of "The History of Konoha" that had been one of his fourth year text books.

Some time during the second game, Ino and Chouji stopped by the room. Ino was holding a small, flat box wrapped with a green bow, and she presented it to Temari.

"Seriously," Ino said. "You guys are alone up here and you're playing Shougi?"

"I'm reading," Temari corrected, holding up the book with one hand while she accepted the gift with the other. "What's this?"

"Just a little something for our newest citizen. Something no Konoha kunoichi should be without." Ino looked spectacularly pleased with herself.

Temari shot a tolerant glance at Shikamaru. "Let me guess: does it have a leaf on it?"

"It does indeed," Ino said.

Temari smiled and untied the bow. "Thanks," she said. "I guess I do need one of these."

Shikamaru couldn't see inside the box when Temari lifted the lid, because the lid blocked his view. But he could see Temari's brow furrow a bit, and her hand disappear into the box. Then her eyes popped open, and a red flush crawled up her neck and face.

"Ino!"

Ino's grin was devilish. "You like it?"

"No!" said Temari. "It's..." He saw her wrist turn back and forth; apparently she was giving whatever was in her hand further examination. "This is...are you crazy?"

Chouji was watching Temari with a bewildered look on his face. "What is that?" he asked.

Ino dragged him down to whisper in his ear, smiling gleefully. But her explanation didn't seem to afford him any clarity, because he just looked more perplexed.

He shrugged. "What's it for?"

More whispering, during which his cheeks began to redden and he glanced nervously away from Temari.

"Oh."

Shikamaru felt stupid; his gut was telling was telling him in no uncertain terms that he did not want to know what was in the box. But his mouth went ahead and demanded the information anyway.

"Come on, guys, what is it?"

He felt himself cringe as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and three sets of eyes turned to stare at him.

"Nothing," said Temari, cramming the lid back on the box. "It's Ino's idea of a joke. Funny joke, Ino. Ha ha. Now take this back."

She thrust the box at Ino, who stepped back and waved it off.

"Uh-uh," she said. "It's yours."

"I don't want it."

"But you will," Ino said with a knowing nod. "You guys will be stuck up here for a long time. I'm sure you'll find use for it."

Still holding out the box, Temari's eyes landed on Chouji, desperate, as if she might be able to foist it off on him. But he turned without another word and disappeared down the stairs.

Ino chuckled.

"Ino..." Temari shook the box at her.

"Nope."

"Then get out," said Temari. She leaned over the end of the bed and pushed the box underneath it. "You're a menace."

Ino's sing-songy voice could be heard as she sauntered away. "You'll thank me later!"

Temari shut the door with more force than necessary. Shikamaru wasn't sure what to say, if anything, and Temari carefully avoided eye contact with him, clearing her throat and turning the page of her book with an irritated flourish. But his curiosity over the contents of the box were struggling with his intelligence and sense of self-preservation, so he searched for something to distract him, looking around the room for anything at all that might hold his attention or spur a topic of conversation.

He found nothing, but his eyes landed on the window and he realized that it was much later than he'd thought. The sun was already going down, which brought his thoughts back onto the track they'd been stuck most of the day, and that Shougi hadn't been quite enough to help him forget. Bedtime. Temari. The marriage to her that he was very much interested in consummating.

Except that he hadn't had a bath in...what? Three days? Four? Not since before he'd been been admitted into the hospital. And if he ever got up the guts to ask Temari about which bed she'd be sleeping in, surely the way he smelled would be a factor in her decision.

Come to think of it, Temari hadn't been home to clean up in the last few days, either. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to offer her the use of the tub first, but he wasn't sure he felt like waiting. But he could probably use the downstairs bath, if no one else was. Then they could both go at the same time. Good idea.

He stood up and worked the stiffness out of his long-bent knees, then started grabbing some clean clothes out of his drawer.

"What are you doing?" asked Temari.

"I'm going to take a bath," he said. "You want one?"

Until that moment, Shikamaru never realized that it was possible to hear silence. To feel stillness. He detected Temari's stasis with his entire body, and turned before he could stop himself to see her watching him with startled eyes.

"I just meant," he said, hurrying to correct his mistake, "that there are two bathrooms. So if you also wanted to take a bath, you could do that."

"Oh," she said. She laughed in a way that made him turn back toward his dresser, embarrassed. What kind of reaction he could expect from an intentional attempt at intimacy? Maybe he'd be better off leaving it alone.

"A bath sounds good," she said. He could hear her rummaging through a bag. "I'm almost out of clean clothes, though."

"Mom's washing them," he said. "Do you have something to wear for now?" He considered offering her one of his t-shirts, but it seemed like another one of those things she'd probably laugh at.

"Yeah, I've got something."

"Okay," he said. He tucked his clothes under an arm and headed for the door. "See you."

"Don't wait up," she said.

O O O

Temari took immense pleasure from running the water as hot as possible and soaking herself in it until she pruned. She wasn't in a hurry; she had days worth of weariness and stress to let seep out of her pores and float away, then wash down the drain once the plug was pulled. It was only when she was pretty sure that she was about to die of heat stroke that she climbed out of the tub and sat in front of the sprayer, washing her hair and body and shaving her legs with cooler water. Then she rinsed off and got back in the tub, ready to tempt death again. It felt wonderful.

She scooted down in the tub until her whole body was in the water, then inhaled deeply, drawing in the steam and making her chest float. She thought about Shikamaru, who was probably still having his own luxurious soak in the downstairs bathroom.

"I'm going to take a bath. You want one?"

She smiled to herself. Silly boy. So quick to cover up for his mistake, unaware that she'd been about three seconds and a leap over her pride away from saying yes. It was probably better this way; now she had all the time and room and privacy that she needed to relax and groom. But there was something about the way her splashing echoed through the room, amplified by the acoustics, that made her feel a little lonely. There was no reason to bathe like single people if you'd rather bathe like married ones. And she was reasonably certain that he'd rather; he'd been staring at her body all day, too inexperienced at girl-watching not to get caught at it. That was fine. It was kind of cute watching his eyes flick away, then narrow as if he was annoyed at himself for getting distracted.

She lay in the bath as long as she could a second time, then forced herself to slither out and dry off. It was too steamy to see herself in the mirror, even after wiping it down with a dry corner of her towel, so she took a tiny pump of soap from the dispenser, dampened it under the faucet, and rubbed it on the glass. After wiping down the mirror again, she was staring at a crystal clear reflection of herself.

Her skin was blotchy and bright red from the bath, which made her eyes look unnaturally green, so she ran cool water into her hands and splashed in on her face until it went away. She towel dried her hair, then combed through it with her fingers, carefully separating the waves. When dry, her hair was absolutely ridiculous. But it was quite nice when it was wet, the waves making it look tousled and soft. It was the only time she liked it.

Then she got dressed. All she'd had left in her bag was a tank top and shorts, which would have to be good enough. Her thoughts briefly went to the box under her bed, but she pushed the idea away. Ino was a crack-pot.

Shikamaru was already in the room moving clean, folded laundry from a basket into his dresser. He was dressed simply, too, in a green shirt and black pants, damp hair still hanging loose and making wet spots on his collar and the shoulders of his shirt. He pushed the last drawer shut, then faced her, and she noticed for the first time that his cheeks were flushed.

"Here," he said, thrusting the basket toward her. "The rest of it's yours."

She glanced into the basket to see her panties folded and stacked neatly on top of some other clothes. She smiled.

"Are you scared of my underwear?" she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head in one, awkward motion. "I just didn't know where to put it."

"Ah." She dropped the basket onto her bed, then covered the three paces to where he stood. His eyes widened as she got closer; she made herself hold his gaze, even though she had to keep looking higher, her head tilting back until she was right in front of him. This was going to be hard to get used to. Until now he'd always been below her when they kissed, and that felt natural to her. She was in control that way; he only got to be in charge when she let him. But now she had to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't usually going to be like that. He was bigger than her. He made her feel small. And no one had made her feel small since Yashamaru-jisan had carried her around on his shoulders when she was four years old. She'd liked it, then. She wasn't so sure she liked it now.

But she'd have to get used to it. She wasn't always going to be able to push him down every time they made out, as much as she might want to. And other women tolerated it, so maybe it wouldn't be all bad.

"Kiss me," she said.

His expression was doubtful. "Are you sure you want me to? You're making a weird face."

"Kiss me before I push you down."

"Well, if you're going to threaten me..."

Sooner than she was expecting, his arm circled her waist and pulled her closer. Fingers of his other hand slipped behind her neck. She kept her face tilted back, but she allowed her eyes to close as his lips grazed hers. This was so, so strange. Her husband. Taller than her, despite being quite a bit younger. It was an unfair advantage that men had, something she'd learned to compensate for in battle long ago. But she'd never prepared herself for the possibility that she might one day be physically inferior to a man in a romantic sense. A knee to the balls didn't seem like a fair or smart way to level the playing field in this situation.

Not that he was a dominant kisser, exactly. He handled her carefully, as if she were fragile and he was afraid he might damage her. Or maybe offend her. And that was almost worse. It was one thing for her to feel small; it was quite another for him to treat her that way.

She sighed and pulled away, and he looked down at her with puzzlement.

"You're not going to break me, you know," she said.

"You...want me to kiss you harder?"

"I want you to kiss me like you mean it."

He frowned, but his thumb moved along her jaw, his fingers still behind her neck. "I mean this."

"You pulled your punches when we were fighting, and you're pulling punches now. I'm a woman, not a soap bubble."

He stared at her, drawing in a slow breath. Suddenly, a war began to wage behind his eyes. A thousand thoughts flickering past. Options weighed. Rejected. Consequences considered. Fear recognized. Accepted. Embraced. Then his eyes squeezed shut for a span of about three seconds.

When they opened again, everything was gone.

Vertigo grabbed Temari as Shikamaru twisted and spilled them both onto his bed, a "whoa" of disbelief escaping her when she landed, crushed underneath him, her world swallowed up by warmth and the weight of his body and his mouth on hers. There was nothing hesitant about him now, nothing careful about the way his tongue demanded entrance, or the way he refused to let her breathe. She was desperate for oxygen but more desperate for him, so she kissed him back, head swirling as one need was ignored in favor of another. His arms were still around her, one hand behind her neck, and he used it to tilt her head back and lift her chin, dropping his lips to her throat. Then he held her neck in place as he attacked, tongue dragging under her jaw, dipping into the hollow of her throat, and she didn't mean to do it but she exhaled audibly, like a tiny moan. He stilled, drew back to look at her, an eyebrow arched in surprise. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to say something annoying or teasing or not-sexy, so she pulled him toward her before he could open his mouth and kissed him again. He didn't fight her.

She felt his hand glide down her hip and along her thigh, to grab her knee and swing her legs up onto the bed beside him. She helped a little, and the extra momentum she added carried her over, sending them rolling on their sides. Their legs tangled together somehow, his thigh jammed between hers, and his free hand groping at her back through her shirt. Then lower, and his fingers began to trace the bottom edge of the tank top, as if he thought he was being sneaky. Like he could slip under it without being noticed.

She didn't laugh at him or rib him for it. She was too ready for this. Her desire for him had confused her at first, because it had been so sudden and so intense, like he'd flipped on a blinding light when he'd kissed her that day in the hospital. But she'd accepted it as another ambition in her life, possibly as the single greatest motivation she'd ever encountered. She wanted him. She wanted to sleep with that arrogant, lazy, irritating Nara. Because she'd finally realized that he wasn't arrogant, he was just so brilliant that he knew exactly what his capabilities were, and never underestimated himself. And, yes, he was lazy, but he was also the calm in the storm, a man with the unique ability to detach his mind from the insanity of life around him and simply...be. And when Temari got close enough to him that calm expanded to include her, his gravity holding her to the earth and centering her, helping her recognize how little any of that other stuff mattered.

And if he was irritating, it was only because of how often he was right.

So when he traced her lip with his tongue to try and cover the fact that his hand was creeping under her shirt, she didn't call him on it. And she pretended to ignore the way that he shifted against her to surreptitiously allow room for the tank top to work its way up her torso and expose her stomach. But she couldn't help shivering a little when his fingers brushed over her ribcage and down her abdomen, softly enough to tickle her.

But then she sensed it; that trepidation in his movements again, that moment of disconnect when his brain began to try and act independently of his body. His fingers came to a halt against her skin and the haze of lust in his eyes cleared, leaving behind nervous questioning.

"Temari..." he said. He rested his forehead against hers, but his eyes were lowered enough that she could barely see their anxious movements under thick lashes. Then he finished his thought with barely-moving lips, in a voice so quiet that she wouldn't have understood him had she not already been perfectly aware of what he was going to ask. "Stay here with me."

Honestly, she was annoyed. She was angry at his super-ego for interrupting, for getting in the way when things had been moving along just fine. And she was frustrated that he had to ask. How could she abandon herself to him to this degree if she wasn't already confident in him? If she wasn't already sure of her feelings? They were wrapped so tightly together that they were practically one person, on his bed; she was getting an up-close and personal experience with the anatomy of the human male, mostly against her thigh; did he think she was just playing a game right now?

She opened her mouth, although she wasn't sure whether she was planning to reassure him with words or with a particularly hard and enlightening kiss, when she heard something that startled her enough to make her jump.

Sabaku no Tori, tapped out on the window.

O O O

Only one thought was going through Shikamaru's mind when he heard the knock on the glass, and that was to kill anything that might try to get in and hurt Temari. Sex forgotten, he landed on his feet beside the bed, shadow already reaching away from him toward the window. But Temari's fingers grabbed the back of his shirt, and her voice didn't sound afraid. It sounded disgusted.

"Put that away," she said. "It's just Kankuro."

He didn't immediately obey, but he kept his shadow far enough back to allow her to get to window without getting caught. Waiting.

"Why would he be out there?" he asked.

She sighed, fingers working the window locks. "To try and scare me, probably. Idiot."

"But, how do you know..."

"The song," she said. "It's been our password since we were kids." The window slid open, and black-sandaled feet slipped in, followed by a black uniform and a face painted in garish purple. He pulled his puppet in behind him, then threw it onto Temari's bed, followed by his pack. He was grinning imperiously.

"You are not funny," Temari told him. "Everyone in this house is over-react mode. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I saw what you two were doing," he said. "You wouldn't have been able to defend yourselves against a rabbit. And, by the way..." He wrapped a tough, protective arm around Temari and squeezed, making her grimace. "...that's disgusting."

"You're just jealous," Temari said, which made Kankuro laugh like he'd scored a point. Temari scowled, and Shikamaru could only observe, and wonder what kind of weird sibling competition they had going on. As an only child, he was uneducated in matters like this.

"Right," Kankuro said. "I'm jealous. Can't figure out who I'm supposed to be jealous of, though. The one kissing my sister, or the one kissing a guy?"

"The one getting any action," she said, except that it was a barely intelligible mumble. Kankuro chuckled again.

"Oh, I get action," he said, "and I get it with unrelated females. So I think that means I win."

"Butthead."

"Fart-face."

Shikamaru went ahead and interrupted, because he couldn't see that this was going anywhere productive. "Temari's right, though," said Shikamaru. "Someone on Dad's team might have thought you were a threat."

"Nah, they knew I was coming. And now that I'm here, I'm going to deliver Gaara's update to Shikaku-san and crash. I've been on the road for eight days, did you know that?" He stared at Temari like he was expecting sympathy. "I didn't even make it to Suna before scouts met me and turned me right back around."

Temari pretended to wipe her eyes with a knuckle, then glared at him, unimpressed. "Where exactly are you planning to crash?"

Kankuro shrugged. "Right here, I guess." He gestured to the room in general.

"No, you're not," said Shikamaru. The words had jumped out of his mouth on their own.

"Well, whatever. It has to be in this house, though. I'm not even supposed to be in Fire." He pulled his hood off and dropped it on the bed beside his puppet, like he was already claiming it. Then he reached up and scratched his head with both hands. His sweaty hair stuck out in all directions.

Shikamaru glanced at Temari, who was chewing her bottom lip in concentration. He knew she was running through the property the same way that he was, trying to picture all the places left for a person to sleep. Chouji took up the whole living room, so that wasn't a possibility. The only unoccupied space was the empty bed in Ino's room.

Temari groaned a little and rubbed her face with her hands. "I guess you're staying in here."

"Wait," said Shikamaru, "there has to be somewhere else." Anywhere else. The thought of having some guy in here tonight instead of his woman was making him desperate.

"You know there's not," she said. "There's hardly enough space for the people who live here already. And he can't sleep with Ino."

"Who's Ino?"

Shikamaru was about to suggest that he sleep in the bathtub when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Ino."

"Go away," Shikamaru and Temari said in unison. Ino opened the door and walked in, dragging Chouji by one arm.

"That's Ino," Temari told Kankuro, jabbing a thumb. Kankuro's eyebrows popped up, distorting the purple lines on his forehead.

"Really," he said.

"What's going on?" asked Ino.

Shikamaru sighed and sank onto his bed, finally coming to terms with the fact that he most definitely was not going to be having sex any time soon. "We're trying to decide where Temari's brother is going to sleep tonight. And since your room is the only one with space, I guess that puts Temari in with you."

Ino actually looked annoyed by this. "No way," she said. "Temari has to be with you. How else will she use my present?"

"What present?" asked Kankuro.

"Ino," said Temari, "would you shut up?"

"I thought I explained to you that she never shuts up," said Shikamaru.

"I'm getting that."

"And Temari can't be with me," Shikamaru told Ino, "because that puts Kankuro in with you."

"Hey," said Kankuro. "I can sleep with Ino."

"No."

At first, Shikamaru didn't realize that he wasn't the one that had just said "no" in such a inarguable tone of voice. He followed the sound back to Chouji, who was watching Kankuro without malice, but with no trace of flexibility. For a moment, Kankuro looked like he was considering taking up the challenge, but he finally smiled and shook his head. Ino, however, was staring at Chouji with an unfathomable expression.

"This conversation is over," said Temari. "Kankuro will be in here, and I'll be with Ino. Now..." she turned to Ino with mock-tolerance, "what did you come up here for?"

"Oh," said Ino, her eyes darting from Chouji to Temari. "Um...right. Yeah. Dinner's ready. And Shikamaru got another letter from Danzo. It said..." She cleared her throat and affected a theatrically masculine tone of voice. "I expect you in my office first thing in the morning, regardless of your medic's recommendation. Failure to comply will result in immediate action taken." Then her voice went back to normal and she grinned. "I like how he left the "action" part totally open. Think he'll have you attacked by rabid kittens?"

No kidding. What did "action" mean? It sounded like Danzo was at the point of making up rules just so he could get to Shikamaru.

"What did Dad say?"

Ino gave an embarrassed smile. "Something a lady doesn't repeat. But I think the gist was that we're ignoring this order, too."

"Gotcha."

"Hey," said Kankuro, pointing a finger at Ino. "I remember you now. You're that crazy broad that chopped all her hair off in the Chuunin Exams."

"None other," she said, flipping that hair behind her shoulder. "Now let's go downstairs before Yoshino-san comes up after us. She's already mad about Danzo's letter."

"Lead the way, blondie."

Shikamaru laboriously raised himself from his bed and followed the crowd toward the door. He caught Temari's eye, and she raised her hands as if to say, "what are you gonna do."

Strangling a brother-in-law was starting to sound pretty good.

O O O

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on, please?"

"I don't want to."

"Why? Why would you do this to me?"

"Because I can, mostly. And because I can't go to an inn."

"Then sleep in the woods, for all I care. Just go away."

"Thanks for the offer, but no."

"Fine. I'll give you thirty bucks."

"Thirty bucks? Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm bribing you. I'm bribing you to go somewhere else tonight and leave me alone."

"You must think I'm a cheap buy, then."

"Fifty."

"Keep going."

"Just skip the haggling and tell me how much you want."

"A hundred bucks."

"Okay, fine. Great. A hundred bucks it is. Take it and get out of here."

"Wow. That was easier than I thought. You must really want to get la-"

"I just took one hundred dollars out of my very own pocket and gave it to you. Why am I still looking at your face?"

"Alright, I'm going. I can take a hint."

O O O

Shikamaru lay on his back in the dark, unable to sleep. Kankuro hadn't come up yet, so he was alone in his room, but he couldn't be happy about the solitude. Off to his right was Temari's neatly-made bed, sheets clean because Mom had changed them before the two of them had come home, and Temari hadn't had a chance to sleep in it yet. Would she have slept in it tonight, if her brother hadn't shown up when he did? It was hard to say. His thoughts drifted back to earlier in the evening, when he'd had her here in his bed for a few, glorious moments. He'd finally gotten up the nerve to ask her to spend the night with him...sort of. But she'd never had chance to respond. And maybe that was a good thing. Nothing had really changed between them, and letting him kiss her didn't automatically mean that she was ready to sleep with him. And, if he was honest with himself, she hadn't put up much of a fight over giving her room to Kankuro. It had been her idea. She'd seemed a little irritated, but not nearly as irritated as he felt right now.

Maybe he'd moved too fast. Pushed her too hard. She was right: she wasn't breakable. But that didn't mean she didn't have reservations. And she'd looked so frustrated with him after he'd asked.

He sighed and rolled toward the wall, mashing his face into his pillow. There was only one way to handle this without any more confusion, and that was to let her make the moves from now on. It was the lazy way out, but the one with the least heart-ache. No more attacking her and pushing her down on his bed. If she wanted him, she'd have to come to him.

He heard his bedroom door creak open, then close again. Kankuro. Was it so wrong that Shikamaru wanted to throw a pillow in his face? After all, Kankuro was here for the same reason Temari was, and that was because of their respective roles in the reclamation. It probably wasn't fair that Shikamaru wanted to accept one and reject the other. But he didn't care about fair. He just cared about how warm and soft Temari had felt in his arms for those brief moments before Kankuro had butted in.

Shikamaru heard the sounds of footsteps on the floor. Clothes shed. More footsteps.

Then weight on the side of his bed.

He bolted upright, and turned in the direction of the person climbing under his blankets. But it was too dark to see a thing; Dad insisted that his keep the windows totally covered while they slept, so that no spies could see inside.

"Kankuro?" he said.

Temari's voice came back to him, laden with sarcasm. "Were you expecting my brother to invade your bed in the middle of the night?"

Her voice had the power to open a pressurized can of emotions in him, from relief to nervousness to terror to hope so strong he could feel it like adrenaline in his veins. Temari. In his bed. Surely she hadn't come here just to chat.

"But...where is he...?"

"Don't know, don't care. Hopefully as far away as my money will take him. Now lay back down."

He obeyed, already grinning to himself. "You bought him off?"

"Eh, I think I owed him some money, anyway."

He rolled onto his side, facing her, but she reached out and pushed down on his chest until he was flat on his back again.

"What are you-"

But he felt her fingers at his waist, just under the hem of his shirt, and she sidled up closer as her fingers slipped higher. They were cool and they tickled, but he kept himself as still as he could as her fingertips brushed up his abdomen, stopping below his sternum. At his scar. It hadn't totally healed, yet; it would take a couple more sessions with a medic to get rid of it. Assuming he cared that much. He really didn't.

She touched the scar, running a finger up its length, then lightly traced its edges. Tingling where she touched. The her fingers went still, and he heard her draw a shaky breath.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered. Her hand left his stomach, reached across his body and caught his hand. She pulled it toward her until he had no choice but to roll onto his side again. He guessed that was okay when it was her idea.

There was still some distance between them, but she pulled his hand toward her face and kissed his fingers, soft lips drawing over the tip of each one. When he felt her tongue warm his index finger, he forced himself to speak and make his position clear. As painful as it was.

"You don't have to do this," he said. "We can wait until you're ready."

She gave a short laugh, hot breath against his knuckles, then pulled his hand away from her mouth and put it on her waist.

There was nothing there but skin.

"I think I'm ready," she said.

Suddenly, breathing was no longer an option. He kept his hand at her waist, terrified of moving it. He definitely didn't want to pull away, but venturing beyond where it rested seemed like a dangerous proposition. But he finally convinced his thumb to shift a little, to brush her skin. Then his fingers followed suit.

He moved upward, searching for the edge of a shirt. This was a coincidence. She couldn't possibly be naked; her shirt had probably just gotten pushed up when she'd slid under his sheets.

He stopped when he got to her ribcage, afraid to go any higher.

So he changed directions, creeping his fingers lower, trying to find shorts. Maybe even underwear. But he made it all the way to her hip without meeting anything of the sort, and he couldn't help but let his fingers keep gliding over the curve of her hip, then down her thigh. Nothing. Nothing except warm, satiny-smooth skin.

Desperate for oxygen, his body finally forced him to draw in a deep breath.

"Surprise," Temari said. "A belated wedding present. Hope you like blondes."

He inhaled again, then coughed out a laugh. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but was aware that doing so would bring him fully into contact with...her. But he decided that there was a time to be hesitant and prudent, and right now, with Temari presenting her body to him as a gift, was not that time.

So he reached out and gathered her toward him, wrapping her in his arms. Her mouth found his in the dark, and his hands found her curves, the shapes that'd had him so mesmerized.

"Do me a favor," she said, mumbling into his lips.

"Mm?" was all he was capable of uttering. He was currently sneaking up on one of her breasts.

"Promise you won't be gentle."

Encouraged, he reassigned his stealth mission as a full-on attack. She actually squeaked when he did, but it bubbled into an embarrassed laugh.

"Was that brutal enough?" he asked.

"It's a start."

"Just make sure you let me know if you're enjoying my brutality."

"Don't worry," she said. "I don't think there will be any doubt in your mind."

A/N 11/24/10: I changed the initial, untagged dialogue, because I decided to drop the storyline that the old dialogue applied to. It wasn't anything important, and I like this one better.

Thanks for reading! Review, pretty please with umeboshi on top!