AH. MY BAD! I'm usually much more careful. I'm sorry . Here's the real chapter. Thanks for letting me know.

Shikamaru hardly slept any that night. He had gone out with Kiba, Naruto, and Shino, having one last 'boys' night, he guessed. They had a bit too much Sake - he wondered how they ever convinced the bar tender they were twenty one - and Shikamaru had stumbled in a bit past the accepted time, even if he was a mature adult. His father was reading something, glancing up to see his son stumble through the door. Shikamaru had groaned at his stupidity, and reminded himself that he should never have sake again, because he was much too stupid when incoherent.

But his father wasn't mad. He cracked a smile, "Have fun?"

Shikamaru stared at him for awhile, prompting his father to ask, "You look like you expect me to hit you or something. I'm not your mom, you know," With a smile he stood, placed a hand on Shikamaru's shoulder, and assisted him up the stairs to his room.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why aren't you mad at me?"

Shikaku sighed, looking at something distant, "You're a man now, son. War has… changed you. In a good way… That speech was something else, something really.. Indescribable. I've said some things in the past… You truly are a great ninja, for the flaws you keep. And that girl… You fall hard for the hard to get ones, just like your old man, huh?"

There was more, but Shikaku wasn't sure it needed to be said. Chances were Shikamaru might forget everything discussed tonight the second his head hit the pillows, so he didn't want to elaborate. It was the speech that had changed his outlook on his son, but he had heard things, good things, about his son. He was a war hero, with nin from all major nations revering his dedication to his fellow ninja. Inoichi had returned to the village looking a lot older than he was and Shikaku knew immediately, but when he saw him, he smiled just bright enough to be genuine, even in sadness, "Your son is just like you, Shikaku, down to the troubling women and all." And that speech… Shikaku, for all his wit and experience, couldn't have said it better. And, that look on his face! Shikaku withheld a laugh - it was clear only to him that it was entirely improvised. Leave it to a man like Gaara to drop that on Shikamaru, and leave it to Shikamaru to pull out something from so deep inside of himself for the Shinobi of the stadium.

Drawn back from his thoughts, perhaps it was the alcohol, but Shikamaru grinned a real grin for the first time with his father, "She wasn't so hard to convince when I had her under my control…"

"The old shadow technique to hook her, huh?" Shikaku's laugh lowered, "That's how I got your mom, you know. How funny it is that history repeats itself.." He looked at his son once more, "You carry a lot on your shoulders, Shikamaru. Just know that no matter what I might say… I'm proud of you."

He had left Shikamaru alone in his room after that.

And when Shikamaru woke up the next morning, pounding headache and stumbling feet as he sauntered into the kitchen, his father only smiled knowingly and said, "Orange juice helps."

His mother questioned what they were talking about, they simultaneously replied, "Nothing." and enjoyed the small secret shared between them. Yoshino cooked up a mean breakfast and insisted Shikamaru sit for it, claiming he hadn't spent much time at home. After he asked to be excused for the fifth time and he could no longer keep his hands from shaking, she asked, "What's got into you?"

"Look, the sand siblings should be here soon and I really need to clean myself up-"

"Since when do the sand siblings interest you? I know you're friendly, and you served with them, but-"

"Jeeze, you're blind as a bat sometimes, Yoshino," Shikaku laughed, sipping at his coffee gingerly. The newspaper was yanked from his hands violently,

"What's that supposed to mean?" She rolled it up, prepared to hit him.

"Ask him what's in his pocket," Shikaku smirked deviously, "I bet the kid hasn't taken it out of there since he bought it."

Shikamaru paled. How does he know? His paled complextion only worsened the deep blushing that followed, turning him red as a tomato. Thanks, Dad. Yoshino questioned him, "What do you have in there?"

"Now, Mom, don't get all worked up-" Shikamaru, for all his brains, was a little frazzled, and didn't have the time to think of how to best propose it to her-

"Shikamaru." it was a low, warning tone she used. Shikamaru fumbled with the velvet in his pocket,

"Please be careful with it-"

When he opened the velvet box, his mother's breath caught. His father's brows raised and he looked over to Shikamaru, "Boy do you know how to treat a girl, Shikamaru." His grin returned, and just as soon as he seemed interested, he picked up his coffee and the newspaper Yoshino had dropped in surprise, and resumed reading.

"A… oh my… That's…" She swallowed the lump, "SHIKAMARU, YOU DIDN'T TELL YOUR OWN MOTHER YOU WERE GOING TO-"

"Maybe he figured you'd freak out and hold him up from getting ready, like you are," Shikaku glanced at Shikamaru and winked, "Let the boy go get ready. It's going to be a big day… with most likely a long night."

"Shikaku!"

"What? I'm just speaking from experience-" His hands reclined back behind his head with a knowing smirk. He took her violent smack to the back of the head with a grin, "Go, son. I'll take care of your mother."

Shikamaru hurried upstairs and got ready. He didn't think, for all the rushing he did, it would take so long. He was shaking rather violently, and his mind was processing all the possible situations in his head. It was complicated because he wasn't even on the map anymore: Doing something so trivial as proposing to a woman like Temari wasn't a right move. It made no logical sense, had no definite reasoning, and yet he was doing it. He was doing it because just like that, love was so irrational and unprecedented. There was no reason for it and yet, everything just screamed it meant to be. In the same moment he could ask, "Why would I ever get involved with a bossy, troublesome Kunoichi with two killer brothers?" he could respond, "Because." Because what? Was there a what? Did it matter? Would he ever known what that what was, if there was one? He was a genius, but loving her always left him more unanswerable questions. When he did mention to find the answer to one, ten more arose.

By the time he had come back downstairs to leave, he found his parents standing by the window of the kitchen, arms wrapped around each other's waists, deep in conversation. Their foreheads gently brushed, the closeness between them something Shikamaru had never seen. From this angle he could see his mother's eyes, the softness so prevalent and almost startling to him. He smiled.