"Come on Shikadai. Say dada."

His voice was high and lilting. As he spoon fed his son he made several weird faces, hoping to persuade the baby. If anyone were around, especially his wife, he would never live this down.

At this point, he didn't know if his son was just being lazy, something he could only blame his own genes for, or if he was being stubborn. So far the boy seemed to be acquiring several of his wife's lovely but, at times, more frustrating qualities.

Unlike himself, Shikadai, when awake, was constantly on the go. He couldn't even walk yet but he could roll and his little hands were always getting into things they shouldn't be.

Temari had thrown a fit when Shikadai had found his kunai. Shikamaru had thought he had placed them out of reach but apparently not.

Despite his limited vocabulary, which consisted of 'mama' and 'no', Shikadai was very chatty, always cooing, always babbling. Grandma Yoshino was ecstatic that Shikadai seemed to have at least some zest for life, unlike her own son had at this age.

Shikamaru himself was proud of his son's accelerated advancement. But one thing was bugging him.

Shikadai was so smart and active. Why couldn't he just say dada? Wasn't it supposed to be easier to say than mama anyways?

Regardless of Shikamaru's efforts, Shikadai remained in his high chair, puréed strawberries and bananas dripping from his mouth. The baby's breakfast continued to dribble onto the 'grandma's favourite' bib his mother had gotten her grandson.

"Dada," he repeated.

How had Temari gotten him to say mama? She told him to just say the word over and over again.

"Mama – mama – mama," his son responded, rubbing the contents of his breakfast all over his face and through his hair.

Great, it looked like he was now on bath duty. Out of nowhere Shikadai let out a ear splitting screech and hit the bowl off the highchair and started laughing at his father's bemused expression. Strawberry mush now coated the floor and his face. Before Shikamaru could so much as grab a washcloth to get rid of some of this mess he heard the door open.

"I'm back," Temari called out as she rounded the corner.

He warily watched her take in the scene. Her eyes scanned the red mess on the floor before rising up to see her son covered in baby food. It looked like she was about to say something, but when she turned to face him, Temari began to laugh uncontrollably. It was a crass laugh too. Hastily, he swiped his cheek to remove his fruit facial.

"How is it," she managed between laughs, "that I'm only gone for ten minutes and everything is a disaster?"

Well, even though she was laughing at him, it was a lot better than yelling at him. Once she had gotten a hold of herself, Temari seriously took in her surroundings. "In all honesty though, what were you doing?" she questioned.

"It's not like I told your son to throw his food around."

"Oh, so he's my son once he's done something you don't like?"

She had one eyebrow raised and he knew it was time to tread carefully.

"No," he carefully reassured her.

He picked Shikadai up, in part because the kid needed a bath but also because, if worse came to worse, he would be the best shield. Temari wouldn't even so much as yell at him when Shikadai was in the same room.

"He's your son because every time I try to get him to say dada he counters it with mama...then he throws his breakfast at me."

His wife sniggered and reached for a towel to clean up the mess.

"You shouldn't worry about it so much. He'll say it eventually, in his own time."

There was a small portable bath they kept for Shikadai in the kitchen. He was not the tidiest eater but today he had definitely reached new heights. Shikamaru ran the water, testing it to make sure it wasn't too hot. Shikadai struggled in his grasp as he tried to reach towards the tub.

Screeching, squirming, throwing things, this was definitely Temari's kid.

When Shikamaru was finally able to get him in the water he turned on his wife.

"You have to admit it is a little odd though."

"Actually I don't," she flippantly brushed off his concern. "Inojin and ChōChō haven't even said their first words yet. We can't go expecting too much of him."

"He'll probably say Naruto before dada at his rate," he grumbled.

"Na-Na," Shikadai happily babbled, swishing the water around. Shikamaru's head spun around to face his wife with an 'I told you so' expression.

"I'm sure that was just a fluke," she supplied, but the nervousness in her voice betrayed her.

The universe really liked to screw around with him.

Sensing his disappointment, Temari walked up to the pair and helped to wash Shikadai's hair.

"Say dada, daadaaa," she prompted.

Thankfully, he stopped saying the beginnings of Naruto. If the seventh had been here, Shikamaru would never have heard the end of it. Truthfully, he didn't know if he himself would ever be able to get over it if his son said Naruto before dad.

However, Shikadai was now distracted by Temari's hair, which he reached up to yank on. Proving her kunoichi days were not behind her, Temari quickly retreated and held his hands. "No Shikadai. No pulling."

"No, no, no, no, no." The kid was like a parrot.

"Aw, no one can stay mad at that face," she easily forgave her baby. He sighed as Shikadai became enraptured by the faces his mother was making. "You shouldn't pout like that," she chastised.

Jeez, the woman had eyes on the back of her head.

"I'm not."

"Shika," she admonished gently, "just because he's not saying it doesn't mean that he likes you any less."

Temari passed off the freshly cleaned, toweled bundle. Even if he was second best, he didn't mind. Shikamaru couldn't blame Shikadai. Temari was almost always the one who got up with him at night, fed him and played with him. Shikamaru worked gruelling hours, at times. The most he got with his family was weekends and evenings.

Shikadai let out a tiny yawn and an involuntary smile spread across his face. The combination of food and a warm bath had made the baby sleepy.

"I'm going to put him down for a nap." Temari merely nodded in acknowledgement.

He walked into the nursery or what he had coined 'the green room'. Shikamaru struggled to get Shikadai into his clothes as the boy was slumped over, practically asleep already.

The baby looked at him through unfocused eyes, but Shikamaru swore he could see some annoyance there. He was probably upset that his dad hadn't allowed him to simply fall asleep in a towel; definitely his kid.

Feeling merciful and greatly amused by Shikadai's grumpy face, Shikamaru set him down in the crib. He chuckled as his son's eyes flew wide open the second he hit the blankets, as if to say he wasn't really tired and had been faking it the whole time.

"You're a lot more defiant than I was. You never want to do anything unless you think it's your own idea, just like your mother. How bout we make a deal?" The infant in the crib looked up seriously, as if he could understand what was being said and was truly considering the offer.

"No more prodding. But in return it has gotta be my name first okay? Names of objects and animals are fine I guess. But mom and dad have to be first."

He couldn't help himself from stroking that new fuzzy brown hair. Shikadai let out a little yawn which then morphed into something else entirely.

"Da."

It wasn't very loud but it was crystal clear, too precise to be accidental.

As he stood beside the bassinet, he felt no need to go tell Temari. The moment felt, almost, too personal. She would hear him say it soon enough.

Right now, only the two of them needed to know.

Naturally, it was the time he had honestly given up trying to persuade Shikadai that the baby would choose to comply.

"You're something else, kid."