Disclaimer: I wish I owned Naruto, however, you know, I just don't.

Chapter 4

"So," Shikamaru smiled, as the woman left their corner, "What is it that needs pulling together, Sakura?" He could tell she had hoped he'd been distracted from her agitation by the previous interruption, judging from the telling blush spreading over her face for the third time since he'd been in her company. A blush which he couldn't help thinking to himself was rather charming. It reminded him that beneath the battle-hardened exterior and cool medical professional's mantle, there was still a gentle girl of twenty-two. A girl whose laughter was less frequent than it had been not too long ago, but just a lovely and apt to make his chest tighten as it had been when they were only thirteen and her thoughts were filled with the brooding former teammate of hers, that miserable Uchiha.

"Ah, jealousy... what a drag. No sense in dwelling on the past," he thought to himself, "Better to be present, focus on her now, here."

Sakura fiddled with the strap on her purse, her eyes downcast. Demure and girlish under Shikamaru's lidded gaze, she took a breath to steady herself, and decided to just be out with it. He more than likely could read her every thought and movement with that damn tactical genius mind of his anyway.

"I wasn't sure whether this... this... coffee... was..." she sighed, her voice trailing off a bit, "Whether you intended, to... um..." Her bangs had fallen back in to her face, and rather than finish the sentence, she took another steadying breath and pulled out her hair tie, her layered pink locks falling forward onto her shoulders and spilling down her back before she pulled her fingers through them, catching what she could to pull back into a slightly messy bun at the nape of her neck. She tucked the shorter front pieces back behind her ears, and when she looked up, found that Shikamaru was looking at her intently, with a slight smile and rather amused look on his face.

"You didn't finish your sentence, Haruno-san," he stated teasingly. He tilted his head at her, practically daring her to say what he almost certainly knew she'd intended.

"Shikamaru, really. This is, I mean, this is... awkward for me. Please..." her brows knitted together now, the blush deepening and spreading across her nose and cheeks, her neck and chest warming as well.

This was ridiculous. Since when did Shikamaru make her feel like such a babbling fool? "Since you opened your mouth without having a single thought in mind, you idiot," she thought to herself angrily, "He's a genius, and never wastes words, and here you are stuttering on like it's your first time out with a guy in your life." With that thought in mind, she immediately stopped her fiddling and looked directly at him, determination renewed. Nara looked on, finding her rapidly cycling blushes and emotions just beneath the surface of her relatively even exterior both curious and entertaining. He could only hope she wasn't about to treat him to that infamous temper of hers, which was seen rather rarely these days, though he was certainly tempting fate by teasing her so. Seeing she was possible a hair's breadth away from telling him off, he relented.

"Sakura, I'm sorry. Perhaps I was unclear. I had asked you to join me for coffee because I wanted to enjoy your company..." was that enough, he wondered? Her face looked shocked, but was still confused, her brow still knitted, "I didn't consider this a proper date," he continued, "But I did intend to ask you for one, though now, judging from the look on your face..."

Sakura could hardly believe what she was hearing. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again, willing herself to reply, but found that her tongue was stubbornly thick and heavy. As if by magic, she spotted the waitress hustling toward them with their order, tray balanced neatly on one hand, with an ashtray in the other and a knowing look at Shikamaru. At least now she would have a moment to collect her thoughts before responding to him while their order was delivered. She shifted her attention to the server as she arrived, smile and calm quickly drawn back to her face.

"Ah! This smells wonderful, thank you so much!" she exclaimed almost a little too enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Kira-san," said the young man, eyes on the ashtray. How had she known? He really could use a cigarette right now, but then again, he didn't want to spoil the effects the aroma of the freshly baked sweets seemed to be having on his companion. She had yet to reply, thanks to this interruption, and seemed genuinely relieved. Perhaps he had miscalculated after all. The thought was troubling, although not wholly unsurprising. He had, after all, come up with this plan on the fly after their walk to work this morning and thoughts of her had plagued him for most of the day... it was entirely possible that he had simply seen what he wished to see- interest on her part- as a result of his own desires. This wouldn't be the first time the strategist had been mistaken when it came to women and their emotional reactions. They were a variable that was on occasion, nearly impossible to predict. He reached for his cup of espresso, smiled and nodded at the waitress, and turned his gaze back to Sakura, feeling the sting of impending defeat as yet another tug (heartburn again?) tightened in his chest.

Sakura took her cup of espresso, set it on the coffee table before her, and methodically opened and dumped the contents of two sugar packets into it. She lifted the tiny espresso spoon and dipped it into the golden crema on the surface, admiring the color of the addictive liquid when brewed properly. Come to think of it, that golden brown was rather similar to the color of the pair of eyes she could feel watching her every movement as she did so. Eyes like two perfectly brewed cups of espresso, warm and dark. Why should this be so uncomfortable, then? Why let the old ghosts of nervousness and rejection, the fear of being thought annoying, awkward, unattractive, intimidating, unladylike, and the like ruin what potential there may be here?

Nara Shikamaru was lazy, perhaps. He certainly had that exasperatingly languorous manner of doing things, but hadn't she herself thought that it was because he was deliberate and thoughtful about where to expend energy? It was quite different from how she did things, sure, but they do say that in romantic relationships, balance is important, right? That he was an attractive man was completely undeniable. Tall, elegant in his own slouching way, with inky black hair always pulled into the signature ponytail high on the back of his head. Fine-boned yet masculine features, high cheekbones, perfectly angular jawline, and those sleepy eyes with the enviable lashes... all were worth staring at. She'd seen other women admire him as they walked together to and from work. She had even noticed him before, when they were young- though her thoughts then had always been focused on Sasuke. She shook off the thought and sighed. Sasuke was no longer an element. But Shikamaru... here he was. And despite the sort of undone quality of the interaction, it seemed he was saying that he liked her. Well then...

"Shikamaru, if you think that qualifies as asking me on a date you're doing a poor job of it." She smirked as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "However, I will enjoy my coffee with you as of now, and give you an opportunity to make a better offer after we finish what we've already started here. It's rather odd to begin discussing the next outing when we've only just gotten our drinks now, don't you think?" Her confidence restored, she felt a different sort of warmth entirely as she looked at the man seated across from her. A man who was now clearly at a loss for words himself, though he looked quite pleased.

"Hn. You are very particular, you know," he replied casually. "I would have expected you to drink something all sweet and frothy and topped with whipped cream, like Ino does. But no-nonsense espresso, two sugars removed from their containers in exactly the same way, empty packages discarded methodically, spoon stirred counter-clockwise precisely seven times... one might think you were conducting surgery here."

"Ah. I see we're skipping any further discussion. Fine with me," she beamed. "I'm not particular, I just like things a certain way. When it's not done a certain way... it's... you know..." here she paused, deciding to abandon all pretense, "You're right. I'm very particular. Like you, I don't like to waste energy on things. Like whom I chose to spend my time with, for example." Sakura laughed. She could feel the spark of something beginning to happen, like electricity on her skin. He made her feel so- comfortable. And clever. Like she grew internally under his gaze.

Shikamaru watched her intently, smirking to himself. So this is what it was like to be on the receiving end of her admiration. Well Sasuke had really been an idiot. She was cheeky, and lovely, and her green eyes sparkled with mirth. Funny though, how quick the transformation had been. It was almost as if she had been arguing with herself, before blossoming under the attention he was paying her. As if somehow he was the sun warming her, and she had shaken off the frost of so many years of dwelling on her unpleasant past. Yes. This was exactly as he had hoped, while spending his morning contemplating the possibilities. Deer cells and their uses had most certainly been the furthest thing from his mind, and getting Shizune to send him out early and head to the Hokage's office was no simple task. Well worth it, to see this: Sakura in bloom.