A/N: Hi, friends. :) Thanks for coming back for yet another chapter. I got a few messages about the brevity of the chapters. I have unfortunately girl-bossed too close to the sun and am a victim of corporate America, my job is very demanding and as such I have less time to be creative. So, in order to actually give frequent updates, I have to make scenes/chapters a bit shorter. That said - if the general opinion is that everyone really prefers long chapters even if it does take me longer, I am totally cool with this! While I write for fun, I also want those who take the time to read to enjoy it.

- x -

Shikamaru used his middle knuckle to tap on her door, looking down at the small bag of takeaway noodles from a hole-in-the-wall shop he and Choji had found years ago and just kept making a habit of returning to any time they wanted some comfort food. They went nearly every day after returning from the war. Comfort was in high demand back then. For the briefest moment, Shikamaru had thought he had dreamed of their interaction earlier that day, a prolonged silence within the walls of her apartment but he soon heard a quiet shuffling, approaching footsteps, the lock clicking open.

"Hey," Temari opened the door, Shikamaru somewhat taken aback at her standing in just a t-shirt and shorts - not the usual yukata she wore. Suddenly shy, she slipped her frame behind the door ever so slightly before gesturing inside. "Come on in, I'm making some tea."

The loft smelled like her. Vanilla, jasmine, spices that he couldn't quite identify. It was warm, inviting, comfortable. Small windows into her life were scattered around. A couple of bracelets on the counter, a weathered photo of her and her two brothers when they were clearly much younger, a small bag of whole, sweet chestnuts. Shikamaru leaned against the doorway leading into the kitchen as she poured the hot water from the kettle into the teapot, stirring for a moment before letting it steep. Her movements were slow, careful, deliberate, like an artist calculating their next brush stroke. She reached to an upper cabinet, the bottom of her shirt rising just enough to expose some of her bare stomach. Shikamaru looked away quickly, his face reddening as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why don't we eat in the other room," She stated more than asked. Shikamaru shrugged, again making another feeble attempt to keep his composure. His heart still thumped wildly as he wandered to the small tea table in the den, he rubbed his fingertips against his chest hoping to force it to settle. Temari followed a moment after, carrying their respective tea cups and placing one before him. "No sugar."

Sliding over her share of the food, Shikamaru tore open a pair of chopsticks. Carefully separating them, he quickly rolled them together to make them smooth before handing her a pair and sliding her meal over to her in tandem.

"What a gentleman," She mused, peeling open her container to reveal what she could argue was her first good meal in months. "You guys really don't play about food, huh."

"Well, I think I've been to every restaurant in the village multiple times over with Choji and Ino.. and Asuma." Shikamaru said, rubbing his own chopsticks together. If Temari hadn't been paying attention, she would have missed the slight drop in his voice. His eyes were darker than she remembered. Grief was a unique experience for everyone.

"Is.. that who you were visiting in the cemetery today?" Temari asked, pulling a noodle into her mouth.

"Yeah, I try to visit him as often as I can." Shikamaru said, quietly. "My mom gives me a lot of grief over not visiting my dad, I.. I don't know. I can't." He wasn't sure why he was sharing this with her, it's almost like the words spilled out of him. He couldn't tell if it were because he felt comfortable enough around her, or that he really, really needed to talk about it.

"It sounds like you had a good relationship with him, with your dad." Temari added, taking a sip of her tea.

"Yeah, I do. I did, I mean." Shikamaru kept reminding himself to use the past tense but found the task often too difficult to make a habit of.

"Gravestones, tombs.. they're for the living. Not for the dead. So we have some place to go when we need to see them." Temari said, picking at another noodle with her chopsticks. "I think.. when you need to talk to him most, you'll find your way."

"When did you get so prophetic?" Shikamaru asked, setting his half-empty container to the side in place of a tea cup.

"I've done a lot of reading while traveling these past few years. I'm usually alone, so it was always a good way to pass the time. You should try it sometime. Do some thinking." She pointed her chopsticks at him, he met her with a blush and a smile. Somehow her scolding felt comforting.

"I do enough thinking, I don't think I need anything to motivate me to do more of it." He leaned back against the couch behind him, resting his elbows on top of the cushions. The more he sat with her, the more he thought that he could do this every night. Just them, catching up over dinner. Shikamaru felt so selfish in that moment, as if he wanted to keep her all to himself.

"What were you thinking about today, when I found you?" Temari asked, noticing Shikamaru drawing himself back in defensiveness. She wasn't quite sure how to read his body language. She rose to her feet, gesturing towards the room over. "Do you want a drink? Like a drink drink."

"I'm not much of a beer guy." Shikamaru said, breathing a silent sigh of relief at how easily she gave him an out.

"Who said anything about beer?" Temari mused from the kitchen, rounding the corner with a tall brown bottle and two small glasses.

"God, Temari, I feel like I barely know you. Bourbon?" Shikamaru asked, gladly taking the glass she poured for him. He relaxed almost the second the drink hit his lips, but immediately stiffened as she sat next to him. He could smell her perfume, her hair. She noticed how tan her skin was, the nearly invisible freckles that dotted along her nose, how green her eyes were in the candlelight. The tiniest mole on her knee, how soft the skin on her thigh looked. What the hell is in this bourbon, Shikamaru's eyes widened slightly, looking at his glass.

"I've never been a secret, Shikamaru." Temari said as she leaned towards him. She was again painfully close to him, her knee nearly brushing against his thigh. "So, what were you thinking about?"

"Just.. things." He couldn't fathom honesty in that moment. She was too close, he didn't trust himself to not close the distance. To keep his orbit. To not collide.

"Things." Temari mirrored, crossing her arms over her chest. Shikamaru was desperate to stop this line of questioning. He needed a cigarette. He needed a taller drink, maybe even a stronger one. He needed to leave this room that felt ten degrees warmer now than when he walked in.

"Yes, things." He said, fiddling with his earring.

"Pray tell, what things could Shikamaru Nara be thinking about?" Temari asked, spinning the glass in her hand, watching the brown liquid swish around.

"I, uh, well.." He paused, feeling like he was seconds away from smoke literally pouring from his ears as the gears turned in overdrive. "You know, thinking of a gift for Naruto and Hinata - them getting married and all. And then Neji and Tenten got together.."

"Tenten just told me yesterday. Makes perfect sense." She said, closing her eyes and smiling - her face dream-like.

"Does it?" Shikamaru asked, genuinely perplexed. He had never looked at Neji as the boyfriend type. He wasn't quite sure he looked at Neji as the anything type.

"Yeah, I mean.. they've been teammates forever. They go on missions together all the time, sometimes just them. I think, with proximity, the more time you're with someone.. you just start to feel connected. You love them because they see behind the curtain - what goes on in your head. What makes you happy, what you fear. And.." Temari paused, thinking about what she and Naruto had spoken about the day before. "Whatever walls you built aren't... as hard to climb over as you think they are."

"You sure you haven't been reading romance novels?" Shikamaru asked, gently bumping a fist against her shoulder.

"You're so annoying. I'm serious - I think they make a good couple. Sure Tenten is extroverted and boisterous and Neji is stoic and all business but.. they seem to balance each other out well." She balled her fist, then - much to Shikamaru's surprise - took his hand and rested it over hers. "Yin and yang, you know?"

"Yin and yang." Shikamaru parroted, looking down at his hand over hers. He felt his eyes soften, the walls she spoke about seconds before crumbling. For the first time since the day he discovered the art of laying in the grass and watching clouds roll by, he wanted this second to last an eternity. Her hand was so small, completely enveloped by his. Without thinking, without even wanting to, he slowly turned her fist over in his hand and brushed his thumb over her fingers, pulling each one back until her hand was open. Shikamaru finally looked up at her, her green eyes wide, ready to swallow him whole. He stretched his fingers over hers, lacing them together.

Whatever resolve he had was waning rapidly. He didn't just want to orbit, or collide, he wanted to be swallowed by the sun.

"It's late. I should get going." Shikamaru finally broke the silence, brushing his thumb over their interwoven fingers. Temari merely hummed, seemingly not willing to agree but knowing he was right. He let more time pass, their hands still molded together.

Somehow he knew the inevitable was coming and that she did too. What they had been avoiding for years now but just lay beyond the horizon. This summer would be fun, they would play house and they would let their walls down enough to get much too close and then she would leave. Time and distance keeping them apart. He'd write her, knowing she'd only write back once or twice. Busy. Traveling. Liaison duties. He'd stop writing, not out of anger, but because he got busy too. Life marches on. She'd be back for a few days, maybe a week or two. They'd cling to each other, desperately, wanting time to stop. But it wouldn't. Not for them. Eventually they would fall out of touch, she'd be in town and he'd be busy. They'd see other people, they'd settle down with their own families and own lives. This would be fleeting memory, but not one he would dwell on.

"Listen, Kiba's having a get together tomorrow night. I'm sure everyone would love to see you there." He said, finally mustering the will to separate his hand from hers.

"So you want me to go?" Temari asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I want you to go." He reassured, wrapping his fingers delicately around her wrist, craving to touch her again.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." She smiled, looking up to him. Their faces inches apart. He didn't notice how close they had gotten. His whole body felt like it was on fire.

"Tomorrow."