Shikamaru had made good time, even with the rest breaks he took to keep his stamina up, but the heat and sun were unrelenting. That, and walking through the shifting, sliding sand was like taking a step back for every two steps forward. His calves ached, and he felt burned and scoured all over, as the sand had somehow worked its way into places Shikamaru had thought would be safe from it. He'd stopped to rest when the sun was at its zenith, and now it was in its descent, not that he could tell the difference in the level of heat or the glare off the sand.

And this goddamned endless wind! Sand crunched in his teeth, stung his eyes, itched his scalp and coated his skin with a fine grit. It was a hot wind, too, not giving any relief from the heat. It seemed to be picking up, a moaning howl filling the air. Shikamaru froze. He couldn't see the horizon; ahead was a whirling cloud of dust, closing fast.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Sandstorm!" He looked around for somewhere he could take shelter, but everything was flat sand as far as he could see. "Think, think, think!" he berated himself. He could dig a ditch… and get buried in sand. He cursed vehemently, squinting at the impending disaster before him.

"Shikamaru!" came a shout, and a hand clamped around his wrist. "Come on!" It was Temari. She dragged him along as she ran; he ran after, the sand blinding him. His only connection to the world was Temari's iron-strong grip. Where was she going? All around them was shifting sand. Then they hit a downward slope, and Shikamaru almost fell as his feet slid beneath him. With a yank, Temari threw him into a cave that was little more than a hole in the side of the hill, then dove after him.

Shikamaru landed hard, but was unhurt. He gasped for breath as Temari dragged herself further in, away from the opening. The moan of the wind became a piercing whine, and outside the cave was a moving wall of sand. But it stayed outside.

"And that," Temari said, "is why they call this the Wind Country." She looked back at Shikamaru. "You caught up."

He nodded, unable to speak.

"You're lucky you did; you might have been buried or suffocated out there," Temari said. She settled herself, and removed her pack.

"How long do these last?" Shikamaru asked, when he had his breath back.

"They can last for days," Temari answered as she shook sand out of her clothes.

Shikamaru goggled. "Days?"

"I don't think this one will, but you never know."

"Thanks for saving me," Shikamaru said. "How did you know this cave was here?"

"I know this desert. You have to, or you'll never survive." Temari leaned back against the wall. "We might as well take this opportunity to rest."

Shikamaru was impressed. Temari acted like dodging sandstorms was just another normal, daily occurrence. Even now she was calm, whereas Shikamaru could still feel his muscles twitching. He clasped his hands together around his knees, not wanting her to see how they were shaking.

"You all right over there, crybaby?" Temari teased.

"I'm fine!" Shikamaru insisted. "I'm just tired. Jeez, this sandbox you live in is a pain in the ass."

"It's not for everyone. You have to be stronger, quicker, and smarter to survive here," Temari said. She rummaged in her pack. "Do you have food?"

"Yeah, traveling provisions."

"Might as well have a bite, then," Temari said. Shikamaru's stomach was starting to rumble; he had been too preoccupied to notice. Traveling in the desert had taken a lot out of him. He drank some water and felt the dryness and dust leave his throat. It was easier to breathe again. Outside, the sand still whipped past. They ate in silence.

It began to grow darker, and colder. At first it was a relief, but soon Shikamaru found himself shivering. "Why is it so cold?" he asked.

Temari was shaking out a blanket. "It's like that in the desert. It gets really cold at night. Come here."

Shikamaru balked. "Why?"

Temari gave him an exasperated look. "Body heat, of course. I'd say you're welcome to freeze, but then I'd freeze, and I'd prefer not to." She smirked at him. "So now you're being shy, eh?" She lay down with her back to him, using her pack as a pillow, and pulled the blanket up around herself. "Suit yourself."

Shikamaru scooted over, dragging his pack and blanket with him. He was about to curl up against her, then thought better of it and lay back-to-back. The air beneath the blankets began to warm up almost immediately. He sighed. It felt good to lie still. His muscles were crying out, and he felt so tired that it hurt.

He had wondered what it would be like to sleep beside a girl. So far it wasn't anything interesting. Actually, it was kind of awkward. He was almost afraid to touch her, partly because he really, really wanted to. Just pretend she's a pillow or something, he told himself as he began to drift.

Sometime in the night Shikamaru woke up to find that he and Temari had shifted positions in their sleep. She was lying half on top of him with her head on his chest, arm curled around his waist, and one leg overlapping his; his arms were wrapped snugly around her. He could feel her heart beating. He brushed a few stray hairs out of Temari's face, and she sighed contentedly in her sleep.

So this was what it felt like.

Shikamaru wondered what Temari would think if she woke up. He thought he should probably disentangle himself, but he didn't want to. Besides, he could feel the cold outside the barrier of the blankets, waiting to invade, the same way he would bundle himself under his covers on a cold winter night and feel the chill on his face while the rest of his body stayed toasty. And if he moved, he might wake Temari. Instead, he closed his eyes and counted her heartbeats until he fell back asleep.

Temari woke before dawn to find the sandstorm was over. The sky was indigo paling to violet, and while the cave was still cool, she knew that in as little as an hour the temperature would climb.

She also found that Shikamaru's breathing was tickling her neck. One arm was curled around her head, the other around her waist. "Shikamaru," she said. "Wake up."

"Hmm?" he mumbled, still asleep. He nuzzled his face into the curve between her neck and shoulder. Temari sighed in contentment. Right now sleeping in the dirt was cozier than her empty bed in the palace had ever been. But the ninja in her was nagging that the best part of the day for traveling was slipping by while she gave in to weak, womanly emotions.

"We should go," she said. Shikamaru answered with a faint snore.

Temari grew impatient. "We don't have time to cuddle, lazybones," she hissed. "I think we can make it to Suna today but we have to leave. Now." She gave his arm a sharp pinch.

Shikamaru peered out of half-closed eyes. "Whuzzuh?" His eyes widened and he jerked away and sat up. "C-cuddle? I wasn't—I mean I was just sleeping." He chuckled nervously.

"Mmhmm," Temari replied with a knowing look.

"What about breakfast?" he asked with a yawn.

"We can eat it on the way," Temari said, rolling up her blanket. Shikamaru followed suit, his face burning with more than the rising heat. Damn, but she could be businesslike when she wanted to. How could a desert-dwelling girl be so chilly?

Packs on, they exited the cave. The desert was so calm and still that Shikamaru could hardly believe that it had been torn through by a sandstorm just yesterday. He expected cataclysmic upheaval, expected the sand to be gouged by the fierce wind. But it looked exactly the same, like a blanket that had been tossed up into the air and settled back on the bed, perfectly smooth.

"Come on," Temari urged. "I'm sure you don't want to spend another night out here when you can be sleeping in a bed in the Kazekage's palace."

If it was like last night, I wouldn't mind sleeping out here every night, Shikamaru thought to himself as he followed her.

"You didn't have to escort her the entire way home, you know," Kankurou said with a smirk as he greeted the pair at the village entrance.

"He didn't. He caught up to me, and I saved him from a sandstorm," Temari said.

"You do love saving him when he's in over his head," Kankurou teased.

"Be nice," Temari said. "He's here to evaluate us."

Kankurou's brows knitted together. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm on a mission," Shikamaru said, and offered Kankurou the scroll with his orders on it. Tsunade had given it to him with instructions to present it if questioned as to his presence in Suna.

Gaara was suddenly there, though none of them had noticed his approach. He took the scroll before Kankurou could grab it, and snapped it open. "I requested an envoy from Konoha to evaluate our training program and make suggestions," Gaara told his brother. "Our students are doing well, but while I was watching this last exam it seemed like Konoha was still doing better than us." He rolled the scroll up and gave it back to Shikamaru. "Temari," he said, turning to his sister, "I know this is short notice, but you are to be Shikamaru's guide during his stay in Suna."

"Yes, Gaara," Temari said, as though she had been expecting this.

Gaara looked at Shikamaru, and Shikamaru froze as though caught in a Kage Mane no Jutsu himself. Those pale green eyes always seemed to pierce the very soul. "You will be staying in the guest quarters of the Kazekage's palace. Also, you'll eat dinner with us tonight." Gaara sure knew how to get to a point. No formal orders masquerading as requests, no flowery language.

"I'd be honored," Shikamaru said.

"Good." Gaara's attention left Shikamaru and returned to Kankurou. "Let's go. I want to talk to you." They departed, leaving Shikamaru and Temari behind.

Temari turned to him. "Would you like to tour our classrooms and training grounds first, or would you like to get settled?"

Shikamaru scratched his head, scowling. "Can I have a bath or something?"

Temari gave a short bark of a laugh. "We don't have huge hot springs like the Hidden Leaf, so you'll have to make do with a regular tub in your room."

"I'd make do with a bucket at this point," Shikamaru muttered.

"That's what some people have to do," Temari told him. "It's a luxury of living in the palace that we even get to immerse ourselves." She began to walk, and Shikamaru followed.

"No wonder you three hit the hot springs every time you come to Konoha," Shikamaru said.

Temari nodded. "It's very relaxing after the long trip to get there. I wish I could offer you the same here."

"It's okay. Just getting here is a relief."

They walked down the main street, Shikamaru keeping pace beside Temari. He sized the place up as they made their way to the center of the village. He had never been to Suna, though he heard Naruto and Sakura talk about it. It was definitely no Konoha. There didn't seem to be much in the way of plant life, for one.

"There's not as much water here as in your pretty, green country," Temari said, as though reading his mind.

"I'll keep that in mind when I'm filling the tub," Shikamaru answered. He looked at her sideways. "Maybe you could supervise."

Temari snorted. "If you can't fill a tub on your own at your age, I'll have to have a talk with your mother."

"Already threatening to talk to my mother, eh?" Shikamaru bantered back. He reached out to grab her hand, but she snatched it back, suddenly austere again. Shikamaru's face burned. He turned his attention back to his surroundings, and that's when he saw what must have made Temari close up again. An older man, sweeping sand off of his front step, was glaring at him, probably scandalized that a foreign ninja was behaving so familiarly with the Kazekage's sister.

The old man wasn't the only one looking at the Konoha leaf plate on his arm, some with curiosity, some with open hatred. The latter came mostly from the older folks, those who remembered the Leaf as an enemy, not an ally. It didn't seem to matter that it had been Konoha shinobi who went so far to rescue the kidnapped Kazekage, while many of his own subjects had wanted to immediately declare him dead and choose his replacement so as not to appear leaderless and weak to their enemies.

The people here seemed more serious, and carried themselves with military discipline. This was a village more familiar with war and slower to trust. Not like his pretty, green country indeed.

Temari showed Shikamaru to his quarters, and the bath, which was round and freestanding, unlike the ones at home. It looked more like a huge cauldron. "Go ahead and get settled. I'll have one of the servants get you when it's time for dinner. We'll begin everything tomorrow." She scratched at her scalp. "I could use a bath myself."

Shikamaru cast a glance around the room. "Is mine big enough for two?" he asked. Temari just laughed and shut the door behind her as she left.

"Women," he sighed, and began to unpack.

For three weeks, Shikamaru observed the training methods Gaara and his siblings had developed based on those of Konoha. He was impressed. The Sand's program was smaller in scale due to the Wind Country's daimyo limiting the number of shinobi the Sand was allowed. The students were older, but they were quick studies. Training for the Sand shinobi had traditionally been more militaristic, turning out ninja who were more like troops than special agents. A few talented elite like Gaara and his siblings rose above the rest, usually through the efforts of private tutors or their parents.

The emotional training was more extensive and strict (a difference Shikamaru had noticed right away in his first dealings with the Sand siblings) and yet it seemed unneeded; living here had hardened these kids already. It seemed to Shikamaru that wind-borne sand had pumiced away their softness. They never complained, never got visibly frustrated, and never disobeyed orders. He wondered how Naruto would have done here.

"You need more trainers," Shikamaru said to Temari as they watched Kankurou and Gaara spar with their students. "There are too many students here for just the three of you."

"Are you volunteering?" she countered. Shikamaru looked askance. Temari had been consistently professional around him since they arrived. He had expected at least a stolen kiss or two, or at least more warmth after their closeness in the cave, not this antagonism that was somewhat different from their usual banter. Had she reconsidered her feelings, or would he have to wait until they parted to find out?

Perhaps Konoha was the only place she would show him any softness. He expected Temari to feel more comfortable in her own village. But here her family and her people were watching, the same people who glared at his armband. Here she was the Kazekage's sister, daughter to the former Kazekage, a leader and an example to her people.

Shikamaru was thinking, his fingertips together, fingers curled to form an O. It was his concentration stance. "Temari," he said suddenly, "the daimyo only allows a certain number of shinobi, right?"

"Right."

"Does that number include anyone ninja-trained, or just active ninja?"

Temari paused. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Maybe you could increase your turnover rate, keep your ranks fresh, by giving incentives to older shinobi who retire, perhaps sooner than they usually would. Then you could increase the number of younger ones. And if you could recruit some of them to be instructors but only active in that way… perhaps you could get around the quota," Shikamaru said.

Temari looked thoughtful. It was a good plan, but a precarious one. It depended on the daimyo letting certain things slide. "Put that one in your report," she said. "I'm sure Gaara will consider it."

Shikamaru smiled; he knew he had impressed her. He went for the trump. "And in wartime, when things get desperate, I'm sure the daimyo overlooks extra reinforcements, right? When the older folks who are still able come out of retirement?" Temari looked at him in amazement. "You could follow the quota and increase your reserves, so when you really need all your strength, your full power, you'd have it."

"It's quite a plan," Temari said. Shikamaru smiled his satisfaction and returned his attention to the training.

"Why does Gaara only have one student?" he asked. Gaara was sparring with a girl, using sand to block her swings of what looked like a chain with weighted ends.

"We let them choose who they wanted to train with," Temari explained. "Matsuri is the only one who chose Gaara. Brave girl, though she didn't seem so at first. She struck me as weak and timid, but he seems to have improved her some."

Shikamaru shook his head. "In Konoha, the Hokage chooses teams with members whose abilities compliment each other, and a sensei who can teach to their learning styles."

"We don't have that luxury," Temari said, her voice hard.

"At least give Gaara more students. You and Kankurou are overwhelmed—"

"Gaara didn't want to force anyone to learn under him," Temari cut in. Her eyes were fixed on her brother. "A lot of people are still afraid of him, you know."

"Even though Shukaku—"

"Hsst! Be quiet about that," Temari hissed desperately, her eyes pleading.

"They don't know?" Shikamaru whispered, surprised. The Akatsuki had succeeded in removing the demon from Gaara's body, killing him, and the old lady Chiyo revived him.

"Of course they don't," Temari whispered fiercely. She leaned in closer, breathing her words voicelessly into Shikamaru's ear. "Gaara can still control the sand. He can put on enough of a display that no one questions it. But the sand no longer protects him automatically, without him thinking about it."

"So if an assassin knew, then they could murder him as easily as anyone else," Shikamaru realized.

"Not only that, but the only reason none of our enemies dare attack is because they know our Kazekage has the power of Shukaku and would obliterate them. That's why no one must know," she insisted. "The only thing that stops even enemies in Suna from killing Gaara is their belief that the sand protects him and he is invincible." Temari closed her eyes. "Only a handful of people know the truth, including your friends in Konoha."

"I won't tell anyone," Shikamaru promised.

"Thank you," Temari said, somewhat relieved. She was still standing very close. Shikamaru had the urge to put his arm around her, to comfort her, but he knew she would probably snap at him that she didn't need his pity or comfort. She wasn't some weak girl who would fall into his arms and weep.

"Well," Shikamaru said finally, "I'll let you get back to your students. I have to write up a status report for the Fifth." He turned to go.

The corner of Temari's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Are you sure you can find the way without me leading you?" she asked.

Shikamaru smirked. "Tch. Unlike you, I don't need an escort everywhere I go in a strange village."

Temari snorted and turned her back to him. Shikamaru headed back toward the Kazekage's palace.

He had never seen Temari look scared before. She despised weakness, in others and herself, and was always pushing herself harder than she should. Totally the opposite of me, Shikamaru thought. Perhaps his laziness was the byproduct of living a peaceful life in Konoha. Temari couldn't afford to lay back and watch clouds.

He pushed himself when he had to, of course, but he knew his limitations. He could recognize when the time came to pull back, when going any further would be dangerous. He did it during the chuunin exam. Temari was like Naruto; she'd charge ahead until she collapsed.

She had a lot of strength. That was part of why he liked her. A lot of the other girls had grown in recent years (Sakura, for one outstanding example), but for so long they had seemed so petty and weak and, quite frankly, useless. It seemed Temari had always been capable.

Shikamaru was back in his room before he realized it. He had been daydreaming so much that he practically sleepwalked back. He shook his head vigorously. It must have been a sign that he felt safe here, but it was a habit he had to rid himself of. Temari would scold him up and down about inattention leaving him open to attack one day.

He sighed and pulled out an empty scroll. "Time to work," he said as though about to choke down a bitter medicine.

A knock on the door startled Shikamaru awake. He groaned and raised his head from the desk; he had fallen asleep over his scroll, and now the sky outside was dark. Yawning, he pushed himself up from the desk and went to open the door.

Temari stood there, her hair slightly damp, dressed not in her usual black kimono but a silk one with peach and pink flowers on a field of cream. "Did I wake you?" she asked.

"Temari? No—I mean yes, but that's okay. I wasn't supposed to be sleeping." Shikamaru yawned behind his hand. "Um, you look nice."

Temari looked down at her outfit as if to say "This old thing?" and smiled. "Thanks," she said. "I thought I'd put on something comfortable for the evening." She peered over Shikamaru's shoulder at the desk. "Are you busy?"

"Not really," Shikamaru said with a shrug. His status report could wait until tomorrow, and if he tried to continue it, he would probably just fall asleep over it again. "What do you have in mind?"

Temari nodded to the side. "Walk with me. I want to show you something."

"Okay," Shikamaru said, somewhat questioningly, and followed Temari out.

A few minutes later they were standing in front of a large building made of glass. "This is our greenhouse," Temari explained as she opened the door. Hot, moist air wafted out into the dry, cool evening, carrying with it the herbal green smell of leaves, the sweet smell of flowers and fruits. Shikamaru inhaled deeply and followed Temari inside. She shut the door behind them.

It was still almost oppressively hot and humid even though night had fallen. All around was more plant life than Shikamaru had seen in weeks. "This is incredible!" he marveled. "I had no idea this was here."

Temari shrugged. "We have to grow food and herbs somehow," she said. She tugged at Shikamaru's sleeve. "Come. What I want you to see is further back." She disappeared down the path.

Shikamaru had to pass through another door to get to the back of the greenhouse. Here the air was more like the air outside, for this was where the desert plants were kept. He found Temari standing before a tall, spiny cactus bearing a single flower of palest pink.

"It's beautiful," Shikamaru said. The delicate flower seemed so out of place amidst the long, needle-like spines. Its fragrance was light, fruity and spicy.

"It only produces this one blossom, once a year, for one day," Temari explained. "Legend says that if a person gives the flower to their beloved, their love will be as rare and beautiful. But it's forbidden to pick it; they say if you do then the cactus will never bloom again. But if you are determined enough to seek one out, and lucky enough to find one in bloom, if you wait, the blossom will fall and still be as fresh as when it first bloomed." She fell silent. He had never heard her speak so poetically before.

"Do you believe all that?" he asked.

Temari shrugged, her arms folded. "It's a pretty story, but I just think the flower is amazing all by itself." She smiled thoughtfully. "It reminds me that some things are worth waiting for, and some moments you have to slow down and pay attention to catch."

"How did you know it would bloom today?" Shikamaru asked.

"I didn't," Temari admitted. "I just happened to come in here to collect some aloe for a burn salve and saw the flower had begun to open. It's lucky you happen to be here. I wanted to share this with you," she said quietly.

She unfolded her arms; her hand brushed Shikamaru's accidentally. This time, she didn't pull away. Instead of taking her hand, he linked his pinkie finger with hers.

"Thank you for this," Shikamaru said solemnly. Not just for the miracle of the flower, but for this little moment of intimacy, which was just as rare.

Temari giggled. That surprised him almost as much as everything else. "Let's go on back," she said. "If you're falling asleep over your scroll, you probably belong in bed."

"Mine or yours?" Shikamaru teased as they turned. He waited for Temari to release him, but she curled her finger around his tightly and tugged him along. They walked all the way back with that tenuous link holding them together.

"Visit the greenhouse whenever you like," Temari told him as they stood outside his door. "I know you must be homesick."

No matter where I am, I'm either homesick or lovesick. I don't know which is worse, Shikamaru thought to himself. "Thank you," he said. They smiled at each other, hesitating to part. "Temari," Shikamaru began.

"Goodnight," she said with a sweet smile, uncurling her pinkie and slipping from his grasp.

Shikamaru waited half an hour before returning to the greenhouse. It was an hour after that when the flower tilted forward and fell into his waiting hand. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled its scent. Its petals were soft against his lips.

Temari smiled in her sleep. Something smelled wonderful. She peeked through slitted eyelids. On her bedside table was the cactus flower, its petals as lush as if it was still on the plant.

"Shikamaru!" she exclaimed, astonished. Her cheeks flushed as she reached out to take the flower in her hands. As she did, she knocked a small, tightly rolled scrap of paper onto the floor. She leaned over the side of the bed and picked it up. Setting the flower carefully in her lap, Temari unrolled the paper and read:

A flower of the desert, for the flower of Suna.

Temari lay back upon her pillow, her mouth slightly agape, heart pounding. She began to titter, than giggle almost giddily. She took up the flower again and brought close to her face, inhaling deeply. She let the breath out in a long sigh and grinned.

Temari tucked the note away in a safe place, but she left the flower on her bedside table. Soon the heat of the day would rise and the flower would wilt and wither in the dry air. But there would be others.