Author's Note:

Hello Reader!

Sorry this has taken so long; thanks to Jacky D. Blade and Jess whose reviews got much of this chapter written, as well as darkcalling and Master Doc that got my lazy butt off of WoW to finish it. This chapter is where the story starts to earn its 'M' rating, so don't let any little kids read. As always I don't own Naruto. Please review! I'm serious about those reviews convincing me to write more!

See you space cowboy,

M. Turing

/Author's Note

Chapter 3: Memories

It had been hours since Temari left his room; the moon had long ago crested in the sky, and was steadily marching towards the horizon. Lying on his bed, Shikamaru was as awake now as he had been the moment she left; the events of that horrible trip replaying continuously in his mind.

Three Months Earlier…

A lone figure raced across the blazing desert that separated the Fire and Wind countries, brown cloak billowing behind him as he ran full tilt towards Suna. Toping one of the numerous waves of sand, Shikamaru allowed himself to stop for a moment's rest. Overhead the sun beat down relentlessly, lashing out at any portion of his body not covered or hidden in shadow. With a sigh he pulled the white cloth covering the lower half of his face away from his sweat soaked skin—enjoying the taste of air unfouled by the damp cloth.

A sudden gust of wind whipped his cloak over his shoulder—threatening, for a moment, to compromise his balance and plunge him down the other side of the dune. Replacing the cloth over his mouth and nose, Shikamaru turned to face the reason for his impromptu sprint across the desert. In the distance, a low haze completely obscured the horizon—a wall of sand from the desert floor to the clouds above.

'This was supposed to be an easy, relaxing trip; no fights, no explosions, just a slow pace and open sky.'

Shikamaru's eyes refocused on the horizon. The storm was moving very quickly; he had perhaps fifteen minutes before it reached his current position. If he kept the same pace as earlier, he might be able to add another five minutes worth of distance before the storm completely destroyed any hope of travel. Turning in the opposite direction, Shikamaru could see the very beginnings of the rock cliffs surrounding Suna—perhaps seven miles away.

'This'll be close…'

With that thought, Shikamaru launched himself off the dune, his cloak once again flaring behind him despite the stiff breeze assaulting his back. As the desert floor raced towards him, Shikamaru began to concentrate a small amount of chakra into his feet. Walking on sand, he had found, was not all that different from walking on water. Left alone, the fine grains were easily pushed aside by his weight, and walking—much less running—became a tiring and labor intensive exercise. By using his chakra to subtlety disperse his weight, he could run nearly as fast on the shifting dunes as in the forests around Konoha.

The miles slowly fell before Shikamaru's blistering pace; after only three he could feel his heart pounding relentlessly in his chest and his lungs burning from a horrible combination of sand, sweat, and exhaustion—and, behind him, the sand storm swept ever closer. As if sensing his desperate flight, the storm had picked up speed, and was now closing the distance between them at a frightening rate.

'Not good…'

The thought had taken on the role of a mantra in his mind; every time he considered his position, it had become even more precarious. His chances of reaching Suna were dwindling steadily, and it was already too late to look for shelter. If the storm caught him, he would be forced to wait it out on the exposed desert floor, possibly for days, or risk losing his way in the blinding sand. Both options loomed far more ominously than Shiamaru would have liked.

'Not good at all.'

Despite his body's complaints, Shikamaru forced himself to run faster; the fourth and fifth miles disappeared in a haze of sweat and pain. Topping yet another of the endless dunes, a sudden blast of sand-choked wind slammed into his back, flinging him over the side of the dune.

Shikamaru landed with a grunt of pain, and the world in front of his eyes swam, his head slowly sinking down onto the hot sand.

'I need to keep going…I can't stop here…'

Despite his thoughts, Shikamaru felt his body shutting down, succumbing to exhaustion. The cliffs before him had been steadily growing, but he was certain there were still at least two miles separating him from safety—an unconquerable distance in his present condition. As what little determination he still held slowly drained from his body, Shikamaru felt sleep beginning to cloud his mind…and a nagging feeling that he had missed something holding it back.

With a sigh, Shikamaru gave in…and started replaying the last few seconds over again in his mind, looking for what important fact he had failed to consciously note.

He found nothing. Turning his body to further shield his face from the impending storm, Shikamaru whinced as pain flared in his chest.

'Damn that hur—'

His oversight blossomed in his mind in all its glory. When he had hit the sand, it had hurt. While the dunes were high, falling into the fine-grained sand should have absorbed most of the impact. Reaching out his hand, Shikamaru plunged it into the sand—hitting solid rock after only three inches.

'I'm almost there; I must be within a mile'

Leveraging his fist buried in the sand, Shikamaru rose to a knee, then slowly to his feet—staggering slightly as his muscles protested the sudden return to activity. Gritting his teeth, Shikamaru forced himself into an unsteady run, occasionally tripping and nearly falling. It took only moments before his lungs once again burned with the exertion, beads of sweat trickling down his face.

Time began to run together, seconds felt like minutes and minutes like seconds. Shikamaru was unsure of how long he had been running along the now rocky desert floor, how long it had been since he had fallen from the top of that dune. It took a nearly superhuman effort just for Shikamaru to raise his head enough to gauge how far he was from Suna.

'I almost made it…'

The last thing Shikamaru remembered was the desert floor rushing forward to meet him.

A soft breeze flittered across Shikamaru's cheek, joined moments later by the feeling of warm sunlight caressing his face. With a sigh, Shikamaru allowed himself to sink back towards sleep; this was far too good a feeling to waste by waking up. Shikamaru groaned as an annoyingly logical part of his mind warned that, at the moment, he was trapped in a ferocious sandstorm. These feelings of comfort were likely hallucinations from exposure and dehydration. Much to his dismay, these logical thoughts seemed to have no need of his assent—already the soft breeze had entirely disappeared.

'Troublesome'

As much as he wanted to sleep, it was probably not worth dying…at least now that the breeze had stopped. With another sigh, Shikamaru forced his eyes open.

For a brief moment, Shikamaru found himself contemplating what kind of jutsu was necessary to turn the sky a solid, uniform white. An avid cloud watcher, he was certain this wasn't normal.

"Shikamaru…"

The sound of Temari's whisper immediately cleared Shikamaru's mind of the dregs of his exhaustion. Turning his head, he found her sitting beside him, hands folded in her lap, and worry clouding her eyes. Shikamaru allowed himself to relax further into the soft mattress underneath him, and willingly lost himself in Temari's emerald eyes. After several long moments, he felt sleep again rise to meet him, his eyelids slowly sliding shut.

"YOU IDIOT!"

Shikamaru's eyes snapped back open.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? What half-assed reasoning made it seem like a good idea to try and outrun a sandstorm? You almost got yourself killed!"

Temari ended her tongue lashing by bringing a pillow down as hard as she could on Shikamaru's head; his muffled complaints bringing a satisfied smirk to her face.

"Just be happy it wasn't my fan."

Removing the pillow, Temari fixed the Konoha shinobi with a glare; "If you ever do something that stupid again, I swear I'll kill you myself."

Shikamaru, able to breathe again, simply sighed; it was pointless to argue with her, even if it wasn't his fault. Taking his silence as acquiescence, Temari visibly calmed, again seating herself at the side of his bed.

"You're lucky one of the sentries saw you running like a mad man towards Suna. When you fell, he went out to find you despite the storm."

Temari gave him another stiff glare, "You're damn lucky he's almost as stupid as you ar-"

Two stiff knocks interrupted Temari, followed seconds later by the door swinging open. Shikamaru immediately recognized the intricate purple makeup and black clothing of Kankuro. The sand jounin barely acknowledged the Konoha shinobi, sparing only a single, short glance in his direction before turning toward his sister.

"Temari, dinner's ready."

Temari nodded at her younger brother, "I'll be right down". Kankuro simply grunted in acknowledgement and left.

"The doctors said you'll be fine. You just need to stay in bed today, and take it easy tomorrow. I'll bring you some food after we finish.", with that Temari stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Shikamaru turned back towards the white ceiling, his brow furrowing in thought. Something was wrong; Kankuro wasn't the sort of guy to go all the way to the hospital just to tell his sister dinner was ready. And the way Temari was talking, it sounded like she would be eating right down stairs. Shikamaru's eyes left the ceiling and began to wander. The room he was in was furnished with a bed, desk, chair, and dresser. Near the door Temari had left from, her fan leaned against what looked like a closet. Shikamaru's eyes widened as he gazed at the dresser. On top sat a picture of Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara, and beside it a small, ragged doll. His heart pounding in his chest, Shikamaru slipped out of the bed and stumbled to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. Shikamaru's heart stopped, and a blush crept up his face. There was no mistake; the drawer held a woman's underwear—a woman about the size of Temari. An image of Temari clad only in the sheer, netted underwear appeared in Shikamaru's mind, an image he didn't quite have the willpower to push aside. Closing the drawer, Shikamaru stumbled back to the bed.

' Temari's bed. '

The thought sent a shiver down his spine; he was staying in the Kazekage's home, and sleeping in the bed of his sister—the only kunoichi to ever hold his interest. Shikamaru slid his weary body back under the soft sheets.

' I'm either the luckiest man in Suna or the deadest…'

With a weary sigh, Shikamaru rolled towards the chair Temari had been seated in; noticing, for the first time, a small black fan with a silver flower design sitting in Temari's place. As exhaustion pulled him back toward sleep, Shikamaru smiled—remembering the light breeze tickling his cheek.

When Temari returned to her room, she found Shikamaru passed out in her bed, a wistful smile on his face. Moving as softly as possible, she closed the door behind her and moved to the side of the bed, sitting lightly on the edge. She stayed seated, simply looking at Shikamaru's sleeping form for several minutes. Finally, she reached a cautious hand forward and lightly brushed a stray piece of hair behind his ear. At the feel of her warm hand, Shikamaru let out a contented sigh, unconsciously attempting to move closer to the gentle warmth.

Hidden in the shadows of the room, Temari allowed herself to smile at the man beside her and revel in the feelings that were quickly overwhelming her. Hesitantly, Temari permitted herself to lie down beside him—easily convincing herself that it was only for a moment. Shikamaru's arms wrapped around his new found source of warmth, pulling Temari's willing body against his. With a contented sigh, Temari's head dropped to Shikamaru's chest.

' I'll just rest here for a few minutes…then …I'll…go…'

Temari's eyes closed as the kunoichi willingly embraced sleep.

The sunlight played across Temari's face; warming her skin and slowly pulling her back to the world.

Temari's eyes snapped open as the details of the past night filtered through the morning haze; reacting on instinct, she pushed off the bed and landed a few feet away—putting as much distance as possible between her moment of weakness and herself.

' This is all his fault; if he hadn't gotten himself hurt… '

Temari realized her mistake as the sudden movement pulled Shikamaru out of his own slumber.

"Good Morning", Temari tried desperately to sound natural despite her frantically beating heart. Temari's heart dropped into her stomach as Shikamaru looked at her suspiciously.

Shikamaru stifled a yawn and brought his attention back to the puzzle before him; he had woken up to Temari in his room—not all that strange since it was actually hers. What was strange was that she had been…nice. Shikamaru felt a smile tugging at his lips; Temari should have slipped at least a comment on how long he slept in. If she was being nice, she was hiding something. Moreover, as if Temari's sudden departure from normal wasn't enough, the kunoichi before him looked disheveled, and—he was quite certain—she was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

Shikamaru's mind raced through possibilities and likelihoods, finally settling on one. It wasn't the most likely, but it was the one he desperately wanted to be true. Temari and he had always spent a lot of time together—their positions made it easy. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen for her. It had been years since he first acknowledged the possibility that he loved Temari, but the idea—and the feelings it evoked—was still as strong now as they had ever been.

"I'm sorry for stealing your bed Temari. Where did you end up sleeping?"

Unlike Temari's, Shikamaru's voice was pitched perfectly as only a polite question. The reaction from Temari was more than Shikamaru could have ever hope for. Her eyes left his, and her body unconsciously shifted partly into a fighting stance. Shikamaru read the gestures perfectly.

' She's trying to protect herself…and she's about to lie to me '

"I slept downstairs on the coach; I was just coming back up to change clothes and shower."

As if to give her words more credit Temari grabbed a towel out of her closet and made her way out of the room. A few short seconds later, Shikamaru heard a door close, and a shower start.

It was a good lie; Temari had covered all the abnormalities except her own behavior. For the first time, Shikamaru began to seriously consider the idea that Temari—the most troublesome woman he had ever met—had feelings for him. Despite himself, Shikamaru felt himself grinning as he laid back into the soft bed—Temari's bed.

Temari emerged from the bathroom, wet and clad only in the towel she had retrieved earlier. Shikamaru did everything in his power to appear nonchalant and prevent his eyes from leaving Temari's face—barley succeeding.

"I just need to grab clothes"

Despite her casual tone, Temari felt as though she'd been kicked. She was standing in front of the man she loved, wearing only a towel and he hadn't even batted an eyelash. Grabbing her clothes a bit more forcefully than she had intended, Temari began to walk towards the bathroom; stopping half way across the room at the sound of a door slamming, and a shower turning on. Running to the doorway, Temari confirmed her ears. The bathroom door was now closed.

"KANKURO! I was using that!"

If Kankuro heard Temari's furious shout, he made no reply.

"Damn it."

Turning back into the room, Temari closed the door behind her, and fixed Shikamaru with an angry glare.

"Close your eyes Shikamaru"

Shikamaru closed his eyes…and started counting.

'17…18…19…20'

As covertly as possible, Shikamaru allowed his right eye to open. Seeing Temari with her back turned, he allowed his left to open as well. Temari stood on the far side of the room next to the dresser. As he watched, she slowly tied her blond hair into the four tufts she always wore.

'This is wrong…I shouldn't be—'

Temari let her towel drop to the floor, and Shikamaru struggled to control himself as his eyes began to wander over Temari's long muscular legs, then upwards towards…

Shikamaru's conscience finally triumphed, and his eyes slammed shut.

The image of Temari's body did not, however, disappear. In his mind Shikamaru saw her standing in front of him almost as clearly as she had in reality. Shikamaru swallowed hard as he felt his willpower beginning to fade.

'I'm going to die for this…'

Shikamaru's eyes slowly reopened.

Temari was now wearing the black, meshed underwear he had found in her dresser, as well as the fishnets that obscured part of her right leg. Shikamaru felt his hands beginning to ache, begging for the chance to touch her creamy skin, to strip away the fishnets, and to—Shikamaru swallowed hard.

His eyes rose further, taking in the Temari's firm butt, partially obscured by her black underwear, and her long, toned back, again partially obscured by a strip of lacy black cloth.

Shikamaru watched Temari's every movement, his breathing coming faster and faster and his heart keeping pace. He was in danger; she would be putting on the kimono she had taken out next, and it was possible she would see him when she turned to pick it up. Worse, she might even check to make sure his eyes were closed. In either case, the probability he would be in excruciating pain very soon was steadily growing.

"I thought I told you to close your eyes, Shikamaru"

Shikamaru's heart stopped; Temari hadn't even turned around, yet she somehow knew he had been watching her. Without a word, Temari lifted her hand to point towards the photo of her and her brothers sitting on her dresser. With a groan Shikamaru finally noticed a small reflection of Temari's face sitting on the picture's glass.

Temari slowly turned to face the Konoha shinobi—and Shikamaru's heart started beating again, albeit far too quickly. Temari was, in the simplest words, beautiful. Shikamaru fought to breathe as the kunoichi took another step towards him.

"I hope you're enjoying looking at me like that because it's the last thing you're ever going to do", the words were exactly what he had expected from Temari, the tone of her voice was not.

Shikamaru tore his attention away from the beautiful ninja in front of him, concentrating not on Temari's threat, but on the subtle way her voice had changed. It took Shikamaru only moments before he put the pieces together.

Temari's voice was too low; there was no anger, no promise of pain. Moreover, she had had access to that reflection from the beginning, and yet, she had still dressed in front of him.

Temari took another step towards him, and—much to Temari's surprise—Shikamaru stood.

In that moment, years of desire tore loose from Shikamaru's careful control, and, for the first time in his life, he did something without considering the possibilities, without even thinking.

"You know Temari…that was a cruel thing you just did…and it's a game two can play."

Shikamaru closed the distance between them in a single step, his arms encircling Temari's waist and pulling her against him. His head dipped towards hers, his lips brushing against Temari's for the slightest moment, before continuing to her neck.

Temari's shock slowly gave way to pleasure as Shikamaru completely gave in to his feelings; despite herself, Temari felt her own hold on reality loosening as her lust and love began to build on one another. When she had first seen him, eyes open, in the picture's reflection she had dared to hope that he felt the same things for her that she did for him. Now, there was no question.

Shikamaru heard Temari gasp as he kissed her neck, gently sucking and running his tongue over the tender flesh. Shikamaru's gambit was rewarded with a soft moan as he moved slightly higher, slowly trailing kisses towards her lips. As he reached her lower lip, he ran his tongue across it, then over her upper as well—at once begging and demanding entrance.

Shikamaru vaguely felt Temari's hands grip his shoulders, then, without warning, he found himself at arms length. Shikamaru's lust clouded eyes found Temari's, the unvoiced question clear. Temari simply smirked, and placed a hand at the base of Shikamaru's neck. Her hand began to move slowly downward as Temari drew nearer, tracing the muscles and contours of Shikamaru's chest.

"You don't get all the fun."

Reaching his pants, Temari found the lip of the shirt and slid her hand underneath. Shikamaru had never felt anything like the sensations Temari's touch elicited; he found himself losing track of the sweat tortures he had intended to inflict on Temari, instead leaning headlong into his own. Temari watched Shikamaru's reaction with interest, smirking as his eyes glazed over with pleasure. In one fluid movement, Temari stripped Shikamaru of his shirt, running both her hands and eyes over his chiseled chest. With a contented moan, Temari finally closed the distance between them completely, sliding her tongue into his mouth and moaning when he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

How long they stood there, locked in one another's arms and kissing each other senseless, neither could tell. Temari locked her lips with Shikamaru's one last time, deliberately slowing the pace of the kiss. After several long moments, Temari pulled away, smiling sheepishly.

"It wasn't supposed to go this far…we should get dressed before…"

Shikamaru's lust-clouded mind vaguely registered Temari's words, but chose instead to focus on her sudden embarrassment; Shikamaru had never seen the brash Suna kunoichi even approach the emotion—she had always thrust herself into the world, taking whatever it gave. Seeing her in front of him, nervous, flushed, and…maybe even…blushing drove his desire even higher.

'She's off balance; she really wasn't expecting this…'

With a satisfied smirk, Shikamaru ignored Temari's request and crushed his lips back into hers, hearing a moan escape Temari as his tongue met hers. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he was positive it wasn't for these feelings to end. Shikamaru's hands slid over Temari's back, down her abdomen, over her hips, before finally wrapping around her butt. His sudden squeeze elicited a gasp from Temari—somehow, the thought that he would be severely punished for every liberty he was taking only excited him more.

Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Shikamaru felt the rational part of his mind screaming to be heard, shouting that he didn't make sense, that he should listen to Temari. Shikamaru continued to ignore it.

Gripping Temari's butt tighter, Shikamaru lifted her; groaning with pleasure when she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his neck tighter. Temari shifted her body slightly, and waves of pleasure coursed through Shikamaru's body; tightening his grip, Shikamaru managed to make it to Temari's bed and lay them down before he gave in—desperately grinding himself against Temari.

Pulling his lips off hers, Shikamaru again trailed kisses and bites down Temari's exposed neck.

"Shikamar-"

Hearing the unspoken appeal in her voice, Shikamaru returned to her lips, crushing her request and remaining self-control with his passionate kiss. Moments later, her hands were back on his body, tracing over the hard muscles of his back before curving around to the front of his pants. Shikamaru felt Temari fumble with the button for several seconds, then simply tear it off—stripping him of his pants scant moments later. Temari allowed her hands to trace the tight black underwear Shikamaru wore, running her hands over it she rested them on his butt-giving a strong squeeze and pulling his hips into hers a moment later.

Shikamaru felt a breathless moan escape his lips; he wanted—no needed to feel all of Temari against him. Giving her a chaste kiss, Shikamaru ground his hips against Temari's again before laying a trail of kisses down her neck and across the exposed parts of her chest. His right hand moved to slide the straps holding her bra in place out of the way as he repeatedly flicked his tongue over one of Temari's cloth covered nipples, watching as her head fell backwards and her back arched to bring her chest closer to his mouth.

Shikamaru, utterly consumed in continuing the flow of soft moans coming from Temari, and Temari, lost in the sensations of Shikamaru's wonderful ministrations, never heard the voices in the hallway, nor the door's handle turning.