AN: Here it is at last! Chapter 7. Hope you enjoy…no really, if you don't, please let me know and I'll try to do something about it for the future…
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto…and you should all heave a sigh of relief that I don't.
Visiting Hours
It was a jittery and wild-eyed young jounin who sat at his desk a week after the Ichiraku incident, trying desperately to focus on the pile of paperwork on his desk.
His ponytail, the only part of his appearance with which he took any trouble, was crooked and chaotically tangled, and his hands shook like Asuma's after three hours without a cigarette.
All Nara Shikamaru could think of was when the next 'attack' would be, and what item of clothing he would lose this time.
Anko had taken his pants.
Damnit, I liked those pants too.
She had tried to 'take' something else as well, but fortunately the effect of a pantless Shikamaru had rendered her immobile for a few precious seconds; just long enough to clutch the tablecloth around his waist and get the hell out of there.
A day later, Temari had ambushed him while dozing on a hill.
He had escaped when Ino and Tenten had appeared, breathing threats and fury at their blonde comrade, but had lost his sandals in the process. (Temari had dived for his legs, and, as he had been wearing a belt on this occasion, had settled for keeping a death grip on his feet.) When asked (from a safe distance) to return the shoes, she had given the pony-tailed jounin a cat-like smile and told him that they would be waiting for him under her bed.
Two days after that, Mizuki's friends had made an aborted attempt to 'attack' him, claiming that because the kissing bet had been their idea in the first place, it wasn't fair for Mizuki to have reaped the consequences alone. They had nearly had his shirt off, when Hinata and Kurenai had appeared. At the sight of the Byakugan and Kurenai's knuckle-cracking, the two girls had fled, but not before snatching the shadow-user's jacket.
Never in his life had Shikamaru been subjected to such harassment, and it was all happening too quickly to take in and analyse. He had no idea why, after a socially -deprived life in the shadows of such chick-magnets as Uchiha Sasuke or Inuzuka Kiba, he suddenly seemed to have become an object of lust to most of the female population of Konoha.
It had not just been the attacks; everywhere he had gone recently, similar incidents on a lesser scale had been occurring. Girls had been winking and smiling seductively in the supermarkets, kunoichis had been eyeing him suggestively in meetings, his secretaries had each in turn offered to work late with him, and he could have sworn he had caught his 60 year old neighbour peeping through his shower window last night.
The lazy shadow-user was currently in a very fragile state, so it was not surprising, perhaps, that when the door to his office flew open, he jumped violently, spilling coffee down his front and into his lap. The coffee had been freshly brewed and heated; Shikamaru yelped with agony as it boiled away on his skin, his attention distracted from the person standing in the doorway.
"Shikamaru! Are you ok?"
Sakura ran forward as he pushed his chair away from the desk, coming around to stand in front of him, her forehead creased with concern.
"Don't you people ever knock?" he gritted out, "Damnit, that really hurts!"
"I'm so sorry! I was in a hurry, and I didn't think-" she broke off as he winced, holding the wet, steaming shirt away from his skin.
"Here," she lifted his hands away gently, bending over him, "Let me have a look at it, burns shouldn't be left alone; it could be serious."
Shikamaru's eyes widened as her hands moved to the hem of the shirt. Her smooth fingers slipped underneath and gently began to tug the shirt upwards, baring his stomach.
He caught her hands, stopping her. Green eyes met his in puzzlement.
"Er…actually, I think I'm fine Sakura, I'll get some medicine for it later."
"Are you sure? I could just take a look at it here if you take off your shirt."
A week ago, Shikamaru might have whipped off his shirt without a fuss, but after the recent forcible attempts by various females to strip him, he had understandably developed a tenacious attachment to his garments.
He looked up at her. "Er…that's ok Sakura, don't worry, really."
A flicker of some unreadable emotion flashed across her face, quickly covered by the cool, professional gaze of a medic.
"Don't be ridiculous," the pink-haired girl said crisply, hands on hips, "I'm a healer and I know what's best for my patients. I can ease the pain and have you fixed in five minutes. Now stop being a baby and take it off!"
The pony-tailed jounin already had the shirt half-way over his head, muttering under his breath.
"Yare, yare, you're sounding exactly like Tsunade, Sakura. You've been spending too much time around her," he sighed, peeling the shirt off the length of his arms and dropping it on the floor next to his chair.
He did not notice the sudden hitch in the girl's breathing, or the slight flush that coloured her smooth alabaster cheeks as he straightened up, revealing his lean, finely-muscled torso and warm, lightly tanned skin.
After only a brief pause, Sakura cleared her throat slightly and bent down, leaning over him, laying a smooth, cool palm on the scalded skin on his lower belly. As her hand glowed green and Shikamaru began to feel a tingling sensation on his skin, she looked up at him.
"So you think I sound just like Tsunade-sama now, huh?" her large green eyes sparkled with amusement.
He shrugged lazily, feeling suddenly very relaxed, as he slid a little further down in his chair.
Wow, these healing techniques are amazing. This is the first time I've felt so relaxed in days…I could go to sleep right here…
"Or maybe all us troublesome women sound alike to you?"
The pink-haired girl continued with a smile, her hand moving slightly, caressing his skin as the soothing green chakra continued to pulse into him with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.
Unbidden, Shikamaru felt his eyes begin to drift closed. Due to the events and resulting stresses of the past few days, he had not slept much, particularly after discovering a video camera implanted in the wall of his bathroom last night.
The fact that he had recognized it as one of the latest models used by the ANBU Intelligence squad had hammered home to him the fact that this sudden inexplicable wave of popularity was not something which he could just dismiss as 'troublesome'.
But now, safe in his office, with a harmless female who had never shown any untoward interest in him, the jounin let his heavy eyelids fall.
Sakura's really amazing at this medical stuff…Tsunade always raves about her perfect chakra control, so smooth and shaped, you'd never even notice it's in your system…she sure smells good too…
A slight furrowing of the patient's brow was all the warning that Sakura received before narrow brown eyes flew open, and a strong grip caught her left wrist, the hand of which was in the action of nimbly unbuckling the shadow-user's belt.
The pink-haired girl gasped, then, quickly recovering herself, wrenched away from the pony-tailed jounin's grasp.
"Shikamaru, what on earth are you doing?" she exclaimed with an unconvincing laugh.
"Nice try, Miss who-ever-you-are, but would you mind dropping the act and showing me who you really are?" The normally lazy, slightly nasal voice was icy, the brown eyes narrowed threateningly behind the silver spectacles.
The pink, shapely lips twisted into a poor attempt at a confused smile. "Shikamaru, what are you talking about? It's me, Sakura!"
"Oh really?" His eyes shifted to the doorway, and a smirk tilted up the corners of his lips. "Try telling that to her."
The girl spun around, her eyes widening. There in the doorway stood an open-mouthed Sakura, with Shizune at her side.
"What in the world?" Shizune stared back and forth between the two Sakuras in confusion.
The Sakura still standing in front of Shikamaru gave vent to a frustrated groan. "Ok fine, you caught me! But honestly –" there was a puff of smoke, which cleared to reveal a curvaceous young lady with a long black braid, which she flipped impatiently over one shoulder, "Can you blame a girl for trying?"
"Okada Mizuki!" gasped Shizune and Sakura.
"Troublesome kissing girl!" exclaimed Shikamaru, at the same moment. All three women stopped and stared at him.
"What?" he mumbled, looking away in embarrassment, "I'm supposed to remember her name now?"
Shizune frowned. "Mizuki-san, would you care to explain what you were doing in Nara-kun's office, disguised as Sakura?"
Mizuki sighed. "Just trying to execute plan B for catching the hottest shinobi in Konoha. Oh well, and I was this close to getting his pants off too."
She turned back to Shikamaru, leaving Shizune to marvel at the girl's bravery/stupidity in turning her back to them when Sakura was emitting such a powerful killing aura.
"Oh yeah, how did you know I wasn't the Sakura girl? I know there was nothing wrong with my Henge no jutsu and my mum taught me how to mould medical chakra, so what tipped you off?"
The shadow user eyed her warily. She's not that bright, is she? Even a genin could sense Sakura's killing aura right now. He propped his elbows on the armrests of his chair and folded his hands in front of his face, à la Uchiha.
"Quite simple really; you may have learned to mould medicinal chakra, and quite well too, but chakra control as perfect as Sakura's isn't something you can learn. She's treated me once before, and I'll never forget how smooth it was; it could have been the Hokage doing it. Your chakra was pulsing all over the place like an amateur."
Shikamaru glanced out of the corner of his eye. Sakura's lost the murderous look; Shizune's smiling. We may avoid bloodshed yet!
Mizuki pouted. "Fine, fine, so my chakra control's not good enough."
He smirked. "Actually, I knew it wasn't really Sakura from the moment you entered the room."
At this, Mizuki, Shizune and Sakura all stared at him in disbelief.
"I don't believe it," snapped Mizuki, "How could you possibly have known from then?"
A beam of sunlight caught Shikamaru's glasses, turning the lenses into opaque mirrors of brilliance, hiding his gaze.
"Because," he said coolly, "Although she is a very generous and warm-hearted person, Haruno Sakura is someone who values privacy. And before entering a room, she always, always knocks."
Face burning bright red, Mizuki took a step back. "Well fine, if that's all, I think I'll just be leaving now." Shizune took a step forward and grasped the girl's arm firmly.
"You won't be going anywhere except to the Hokage's office young lady, where I'm sure Tsunade-sama will be delighted to hear you've volunteered for cleaning duty in the hospital for the next three months. The genin teams have been making a fuss lately about the bedpans."
A look of horror flashed over the girl's face as Shizune forcibly escorted her out the door. Shikamaru and Sakura could hear her wail from down the corridor, "Bedpans?"
The lazy jounin heaved a sigh of relief and yawned. "And that takes care of that problem."
He looked at the girl across from him, who was standing in front of his desk, her eyes directed out the window.
"Man, Sakura, can you believe that girl, impersonating you? I'm starting to think I need around-the-clock protection."
The pink-haired medic remained silent and he felt a pang of worry. What's wrong with her? Is she that upset? I didn't say something wrong…did I?
The sound of her voice broke into his thoughts.
"Shikamaru?" Sakura's face was turning pink as she kept her eyes steadily averted out the window.
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
AN: Wow, look at what all your reviews have done. I have two final exams next week and I had an exam yesterday, and yet here I am, with chapter 7 finally up and chapter 8 finished this morning! Thankyou to all you guys for hanging on, I really appreciate it!
This story is getting tricky, not because of writer's block, but because I'm getting so many ridiculous ideas for plot devices that I really want to use, but now I'm wondering how I can fit them into the story, and where this story's going to end...argh