A/N: That was close. I almost didn't get this up in time.Coming up with Shikamaru-plots is harder than I expected. But I managed it.

You don't actually find out what he did this chapter. I split his bit into two chapters. Next one will be the escape.

Enjoy.

Chapter 20: Capture

Shikamaru's eyes opened slowly. His teeth gritted involuntarily against the throbbing pain in his skull.

"Damn," he muttered. "My head…"

The Akatsuki had found him on a covert mission, he now remembered. Kisame had hiven the back of his skull a taste of his sword-hilt and he'd been out like a light. This was the aftermath.

He sat up, ignoring the agony. He was in a small room of concrete or gray stone. It was completely unfurnished save for a single raised platform of rock on which blankets had been laid.

My bed, he thought dully. Looking around, he whispered to himself, "My prison…"

He hoped Naruto would be able to manage.

For the moment, he satisfied himself with contemplating the nature of his prison. There were no windows – unsurprising. For a Ninja prison, windows were an escape waiting to happen. The door consisted of bars of a strange silvery metal which was almost certainly Chakra-absorbent. And he couldn't feel his Chakra. The prison, it seemed, was capable of consuming Chakra, rather like Shino's Earth-style barrier jutsu.

Or perhaps it only nullified Chakra – Shikamaru felt no Chakra at all, but if he was totally dry, he'd be dead. A Ninja's Chakra Coils intertwined so completely with his various organ systems and blood vessels that if it were empty he would be dead in minutes. Chakra Exhaustion was both partial and reversible. Chakra Void was neither.

Kami, his head hurt.

He lay down in his bed, his head resting on the blissfully soft pillows. The bed might be stone, but it didn't matter – the blankets and pillows were warm and soft. He made a mental note to return the favor to the Akatuski if they were ever caught.

And then he slept.

When he next awoke, he was not alone.

"The boy won't go along with it, Madara-san," Zetsu was saying. "No matter what he says, it makes a difference who it is. He does care, unfortunately for us."

"I am aware of that," grunted Madara's low voice. "But you underestimate his pride. He has said that the Namikaze means nothing to him. To go back on that would be to admit his wrong – and that he cannot do. And so he will assist us, whether he likes it."

"I think you overestimate your Clan's pride, Madara-san," said Zetsu softly. "He's getting tired of this – you can see it in his eyes. We have perhaps two years at the most before he sees it himself. And something like this will halve that."

There was silence. "It is a valid point," said Madara softly. "But you overestimate something as well. Sasuke is meaningless. Certainly, I would rather he survive and that an Uchiha channel the demon, but that is merely a simple satisfaction. What is important is that we have strength. And Contingency Kitsune's strength will be far greater than that of Uchiha Sasuke."

"And you are willing to forego your clan for that?"

Madara laughed. "For a time. The Sharingan is derived from the Juubi – once we call it down, I will be able to copy the gene and recreate the Uchiha in any case. It makes little difference."

"Very well," said Zetsu. "I only ask that if it comes to it, you kill Sasuke before he kills one of us."

Shikamaru watched his door intently as Zetsu's black skin and yellow eyes walked past it. There was a short pause.

"I imagine you heard all that, Nara," murmured Madara.

"Of course," muttered Shikamaru. "Care to tell me what Contingency Kitsune is?"

"Contingency Plan Kitsune," Madara corrected. "Contingency Kitsune doesn't exist yet – it will be the result."

"Fine. Contingency Plan Kitsune, then?" Shikamaru asked dully.

"No," Madara said flatly. "I don't do monologues. They cause problems."

"Damn," muttered the Nara. After a moment, he said, "I hear you're having a bit of trouble with Sasuke."

"Not at all," Madara chuckled. "But Zetsu is quite correct – while Sasuke has caused no stir yet, there is the potential there."

"Why?"

"I don't do monologues."

"Damn!" Shikamaru exploded – if that was the right word for such an isolated, quiet exclamation.

Madara was chuckling. "Now I understand why Sasuke loves his monologues so. It is amusing to wind you Leaf-nin up."

Shikamaru tucked himself in – he hadn't slept long enough and was still tired. "If you say so, bastard."

Madara didn't answer, and Shikamaru found himself falling asleep again.

The next time he awoke, things were silent. There was no noise or movement about him.

He was slightly hungry, but he felt sure he'd get food soon enough. The Akatsuki wanted him alive – probably so they could gloat if and when they won.

In the meantime, he tried to devise an escape. If one existed – and it did; it was impossible to protect from all possibilities – he would find it. He was, after all, Nara Shikamaru.

And so he began to think.

After about an hour, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards him. He opened his eyes and waited.

No force on Earth could have prepared him for whent came into his field of view. A young woman was walking past his cell door – a young woman with sharp, angular features, blond hair tied into four frizzy pigtails, and a fan slung on her back.

It was Temari.

And she was carrying the jacket-clad Aburame Shino under her arm.

He stared at her until she crossed out of his field of view. After a moment, he heard a metal door opening and the sound of a body being thrown onto a stone floor. Temari walked past again, now without Shino – but this time Shikamaru noticed something.

Her eyes were without pupils.

It took him only an instant to realize what was happening, and as soon as he did, his heart ached. She'd been caught in some kind of enthrallment jutsu. She was enslaved be the Akatsuki.

He closed his eyes, looking down, trying to achieve his customary mastery over his emotions. Enthrallment jutsu were almost always irreversible except by the death of the caster, he knew.

Then I'll raze Akatsuki to the ground and kill the caster, he determined. There was no loud determination in the thought like Naruto would have had with a statement of that kind. There was only a quiet conviction; a firmness born only of certainty. But first, he decided, I have got to get out of here.

He took stock of his situation. Shino was here now – that changed matters. Shikamaru considered. They had very different talents… perhaps, together, they could succeed where one might fail.

When Temari came again half an hour later he was still in a meditative position, having still not fully built up his plans. He had several shapeless ideas, however. He looked up when he heard a scraping sound.

The enslaved girl was pushing a wooden tray into the room under the door. It bore a bowl of stew, a glass of water, and a small bed of lettuce.

He inhaled slightly. It smelled delicious. Odd – he'd been expecting minimal accommodations. Instead he received a meal that, while small, looked to be as easy on the tongue as any of the meals he'd ever had on missions.

"Madara-sama tells me to inform you," Temari broke into his thoughts, and tears almost came to his eyes at the toneless quality of her voice – the fire in it was gone. "The food is not poisoned in any way. The Akatsuki is experimenting with various cell conditions to see which serves their purposes best. Every prisoner is in different conditions."

Shikamaru almost laughed. If he and Madara weren't bitter enemies, he felt he might have enjoyed an intellectual chat with the man. As it was…

"Would you ask him who it was who enthralled you?" he asked Temari. "I would like to know."

"I was instructed to relay your questions," Temari said flatly. "Expect a reply at Madara-sama's convenience."

Shikamaru nodded gracefully, carefully keeping his face composed. "Thank you, Temari."

For a moment, an almost confused expression flitted across the thrall's face. Then she seemed to dismiss it and walked away.

Shikamaru brought the tray away from the door and knelt beside it. There were even chopsticks – and not the throwaway ones one was given at restaurants. These were proper chopsticks – cylinders of wood, carved with the likenesses of dragons, phoenixes, and everything in between – with tips of brass at the end where they were meant to be held.

He only wasted a moment admiring them before proceeding to eat. He honestly believed Temari – he was already depleted of Chakra, and the Akatsuki clearly wanted him alive, so what could they do through a meal?

He refused to let his mind go through the many possibilities. They might be numerous, but not one of them had any significant probability of occurring.

No, not even all of them put together.

When he was finished eating, he set himself back down into a meditative position. It would take time to come up with a plan, he knew.

But given the circumstances, he had little shortage of time.

Shino awoke about two hours later – though Shikamaru by this time had completely lost track of time. Shikamaru called his name as soon as he head his fellow ANBU agent groaning. "Shino?"

"Hawk-senpai…" he heard Shino mutter weakly. "So you're here too?"

"Yes," said Shikamaru. "Unfortunately."

Shino groaned. "Did I headbutt Sakura's fist recently?"

Shikamaru chuckled. "My head hurt when I first came in too. I think they've taken to doing that to us. Kami knows why."

"They want prisoners," Shino grunted. "Shikamaru, listen. Temari-san and Kankuro-san…"

"I know," said Shikamaru quietly. "Temari, at least, is under a jutsu. She's their slave now."

"Damn," said Shino, just barely loud enough for Shikamaru to hear.

"My thoughts exactly," agreed the Nara.

They sat in silence for a time, and then, at long last, Shikamaru's first plan was finished. It seemed likely to him that it would be the only one he needed.

"Shino," he said. "Remember bugs?"

Shino didn't answer. He wasn't meant to. 'Remember bugs' was a code Shikamaru had set up for a contingency like this. If he needed to talk to Shino quickly and quietly, Shino would send an insect and it would relay the plan.

After about a minute the Chakra Insect crawled into Shikamaru's cell and on to his waiting finger. And so he whispered his plan into it.

When he'd finished, he sent in on its way back to Shino. After a moment, he heard a soft grunt of assent from the neighboring cell. Shino had received and understood the plan.

Now all Shikamaru had to do was wait for Shino to finish his part.

A few more hours had passed before anything changed to break the monotony.

"You wanted to ask me something?" Madara said, stepping into Shikamaru's doorway.

Shikamaru frowned. The man was silent – very bad sign. "I asked Temari. You should know."

"An unfortunate oversight," said Madara. "I told her to tell me if you had questions, not what they were. So I have no idea what you asked."

"Who enthralled her?" Shikamaru asked flatly.

Madara chuckled. "I did," he said. "And her brother Kankuro, too. But you see, you can't free them by killing me."

"Why not?" Shikamaru growled.

Madara actually threw his head back and laughed. "I would never have expected such ferocity from you, Nara-san. But you see, if death is what breaks the bond between thrall and master, then I am secure in my ownership." Madara looked down and Shikamaru glared into the holes in his mask. "I am Madara Uchiha. I am already dead."

Shikamaru blinked. "What?"

Madara chuckled again. "Oh, no. You've heard too much as it is."

"That's why the Reanimation Jutsu worked on you!" Shikamaru said with a strange horror dawning. "You're not alive!"

"No," Madara agreed. "I am not."

"But then what are you?" Shikamaru asked in bewilderment. "How are you standing here?"

Madara shook his head at him. "No, Nara. You know now as much as you ever will. The girl is mine. And that is irrevocable. You cannot change it."

And he was gone. But his last words had reminded him of something he'd somehow managed to forget.

"Son," he remembered his father saying on the day he was named an ANBU agent, "There's a jutsu our family keeps. It's time you learned it – and it's looking more and more like you'll be the only one to use it every day. Good luck, Shikamaru, and keep it safe."

The Ritual of the Five Sacred Stars. Passed down by the Nara for generations. The one thing Madara could not predict which could save Temari.

Shikamaru smiled slightly. It was the year 271 of the Shinobi Era. It had been three hundred years since the jutsu had last been performed.

It was time it was performed again.

A/N: There you are! The first half of Shikamaru and Shino's last little while in the past. The next one will be up next week. Please review!