Chapter 84
"Wake up, ass!" rasps Temari while lying on the bed, trying to twist around to glower at the man whose arm is thrown on top of the covers over her naked hips.
"Hmn..." murmurs Shikamaru, not bothering to open his eyes and his arm remaining where it is.
Peeved, Temari hoists her body up, only the arm over her becomes heavy and tries to pin her down.
"Don't wriggle too much, woman," grunts Shikamaru, tightening his hold. "Five minutes," he mumbles pleadingly.
Temari purses her lips in a huff and blows on her bangs but stops trying to get up from the bed. Assenting begrudgingly, she mutters under her breath, "Okay. Fine. Five minutes."
Still lying on her side, with Shikamaru's chest on her back and his hand on her hip, Temari watches the slow tick of the bedside clock until gradually the lull makes her lids drift close on their own.
—o0o—
Shikamaru opens his eyes unhurriedly; his gaze dropping on blonde hair, disarrayed and freed from its ties, before traveling down the woman's bare shoulder which moves gently as she breathes.
She's still asleep.
Lifting his body slowly so as not to wake Temari up, he takes that moment to watch her slumber. This is not the first time he does so, however, this time, her face is relax. There are no miniature creases between her brows and her lips are slightly open as she inhales and exhales gently.
Tucking a wisp of blonde hair, Shikamaru then leans down and brushes a kiss on her temple before getting up.
—o0o—
Temari wakes up and notices that the arm over her hip is gone. A frown appears and mars her forehead until her gaze switches to the bedside clock.
With a groan, she scrambles to get up. Quickly fixing the bed before rushing to the attached bathroom.
Finally, dressed in her green printed yukata, she goes out of the bedroom and hurries towards the dining area.
Breakfast is set on the table and everyone—except her—is already eating.
"Ass, why didn't you wake me up?" She glowers as she passes Shikamaru on her way to her chair.
Shikamaru lifts his head from his food to watch her approach. Silently, his eyes go over her face."Because you must be tired," he answers evenly.
"If you meant that because of last night," mumbles Temari, "...well, I'm not. In fact, I got a good night sleep."
Shikamaru's chopsticks halt in its way into his mouth. "Me too," he replies, smiling a little crookedly across the table towards Temari.
Seeing the fleeting look that passes between the two, Yoshino snorts.
Shikaku eyes his wife, a bit sharply, before shrugging his shoulders. "Fish, Temari?" he asks as he gestures at the dish closest to his now seated daughter.
Temari clamps with her chopsticks a salted fish from the dish and as she catches a whiff, she scrunches her nose, putting the fish back down on the dish.
"You don't like it," Shikamaru states the obvious as Temari pushes the platter of salted fishes farther away from her, almost glowering at it. He queries, "Is there something particular you want to eat?"
Temari glances up at her husband, the glower still in place. "None, ass—"
"You just pick at your food lately." Shikamaru leans back on his chair, putting down his own chopsticks. "Tell me what you like to eat and I'll get it for you."
Temari glances at the fish, at the miso soup and rolled omelet spread on the table then at Shikamaru just as her stomach grumbles. Picking up her bowl filled with just rice, she starts to chew on the white grains, as if she hasn't heard the question posted.
"Come on, woman. What do you want to eat?" Shikamaru reiterates.
Stopping mid-chomp, Temari retorts, "I'm thinking, ass."
"Daughter, tell me what you want to eat," Yoshino speaks, disregarding the fact that it was already asked twice by Shikamaru. "I can prepare it for you faster than him," she adds.
"I want a chestnut—"
"Chestnut?" Yoshino interrupts, "That produce is not really from around here but then I can go to the market now and order from—"
"—flavored cracker," finishes Temari.
Yoshino and Shikamaru frown simultaneously.
Shikaku chuckles. "Good thing I didn't offer. Well, good luck to you two finding that one."
"Temari, be reasonable," protests Yoshino. "There's no such thing as a chestnut flavored cracker. And in the first place, it's not healthy for you and the baby to eat junk food."
"I'll ask Choji. Maybe he knows where I can buy something like that," Shikamaru utters. "In the meantime, eat something more nutritious than just rice. Maybe if you dip the fish in soy sauce that will mask the smell."
Temari curls her upper lip in distaste at Shikamaru's suggestion. "I doubt it."
Yoshino scorns, "That will just make the fish too salty."
"Try the omelet then," Shikamaru recommends. "It's good,"
"Of course, it's good." Yoshino glowers at Kamaru, ruffled by the insinuation that her rolled omelet could even taste bad.
"Yoshino," Shikaku mutters, "Kamaru was complimenting your cooking."
"I don't need his compliments," snaps Yoshino at Shikaku.
Temari reaches for the rolled omelet and starts breaking it into smaller pieces with her chopsticks then with that tiny portion of the egg on her rice, she balls the sticky grains around the yellowish filling. She pops one into her mouth, not bothering to chew that much before swallowing. "You're right, Kamaru. This is actually good," she agrees loudly but her gaze is towards her mother, silently reminding the older woman about their previous talk about her son.
The sharpness in Temari's eyes, Yoshino is aware, admonishes her for again treating the man her daughter claims to love, quite unfairly.
"Hmp," the older woman mutters, deciding it's best to eat.
—o0o—
Temari picks up the used bowls and stacks them one by one before proceeding towards the kitchen. For the first time, Shikamaru follows her with the glasses and the other items used at breakfast.
Gradually, washing first the glasses then the bowls by the sink filled with water and soap, she feels Shikamaru's eyes peering at her while he waits for an item she has done soaping so he can rinse it under the adjoining tap.
Unable to ignore the gaze anymore, she abruptly turns her face towards him, grunting, "Just remove it, ass."
Shikamaru appears baffled but immediately recovers, his face clearing. He swats at something from her hair before returning his hand to his side.
"Thanks," Temari murmurs, wondering if indeed there was a rice grain clinging on her bangs that bothered him to the point that he can't stop staring. Smirking for no particular reason she continues scrubbing with the sponge the remaining dishes.
But just after a handful of minutes, as Temari submerges the pan into the soapy mix, she catches Shikamaru, again staring at her with that odd expression on his face. "Stop," she mutters, sounding almost annoyed.
Shikamaru simply raises a brow.
"Stop watching me—" Temari lifts her hand and with her wet, sudsy palm, she covers Shikamaru's eyes. "—as I simply wash dishes."
Shikamaru yelps when Temari's soapy palm, without warning, covers his eyesight. Raising his own hand to remove her hand over his face, he then wipes the resulting dampness with his shirt sleeve. While still squinting, he tries to glower at his wife.
Temari laughs as Shikamaru surly attempts to blink off the soap residue from his eyes.
"Seriously, woman. That hurts," grumps Shikamaru.
Temari replies, still chuckling, "Don't be such a crybaby!"
Shikamaru plunges his own hand into the sudsy water at Temari's side of the sink before waving threateningly the now soapy appendage in front of her face.
"You wouldn't dare," mocks Temari.
Shikamaru raises his dripping hand as he steps closer. Temari stands her ground, her eyes warning of retribution if he goes through with his plan.
Defeated by Temari's menacing look, Shikamaru swipes his hand on his pant's leg.
Temari grins. "Just wipe the bowls dry so we could finish here."
"You wipe them," retorts Shikamaru, banging the dishcloth on the counter top near the sink.
Temari picks up the dishcloth only to throw it at Shikamaru. "You volunteered to help. How come I'm doing every thing, lazy?!"
"Tch." Shikamaru glances in the direction of the dining room, hearing Shikaku and Yoshino's voices but the divider between the kitchen and dining area effectively blocks the others' presence. Suddenly, leaning down towards the woman, he kisses Temari on the lips, dropping the caught dishcloth to the floor.
"What's that for?" grumbles Temari after the quick peck.
Shikamaru shrugs. "I wanted to do it. I saw no more reason not to."
"I asked for help," Temari pouts petulantly, "not kiss."
"Ah but then I married an independent woman."
Temari opens the faucet and rinses her hands under it. "And I married a domesticated husband," she says with a straight face, shaking her dripping hands before using a towel hanged beside her to totally dry them off. "Finish washing everything," she orders. "This independent woman has more important things to do."
Shikamaru refuses to move into position in front of the pan swimming on the sink, which the woman vacated. "I'm not domesticated," he drawls, turning towards Temari.
"Shh. I'm going to tell Yoshino, you're washing the dishes." With that, Temari swivels on her feet, a teasing grin wreathing her lips as she steps out the kitchen towards the dining room.
Shikamaru witnesses the smile on the woman's face as she leaves making him sigh, casually keeping his happiness to himself.
Temari seems satisfied and if he impresses Yoshino, she'll probably be all the more so.
At the last thought, he snorts but still he dips his hands into the sudsy water, fishing for the pan.
Wouldn't it be nice if he could bribe Yoshino into liking him with just washing the dishes...Tch. He doubts that he could but to please Temari, he can do these troublesome and yet futile things.
"Kasan, Kamaru volunteered to do the dishes and the cleaning today," Temari speaks a little too loudly behind the divider. "Let's go buy you a new dress—or a new pot—whichever you like," she adds, convincing the older woman to take the day off from house work.
"Tell that boy to stay away from my kitchen and from my damn floors!" Yoshino snaps.
Yep. Futile. Shikamaru's lips twist into a smile and with uncaring shrug, he scrubs the pan, starting to hum a tune he heard Asuma hummed once before as the older nin cradled his child, forced by his own wife to coax the tiny being into sleep.
He's becoming more like Temari's sensei...a husband.
TBC
—o0o—
~2 4 14 A 14~
A/N: Exercise your power to inspire...review :)