Title: Pythagoras Switch

Author: The Kitty-kitty

Rating: G

Summary: Love doesn't apply in strategy, theory or math. ShikaTema.

Author Notes:… no comment. I apologize for this.

Pythagoras Switch

"It's not going to work," they sat, shoulder to shoulder, wedged comfortably in a dip in the rocks at the shore, drenched and sticky with sea-spray. Temari, lazily channelling little whisps of red chakra through flat, sharp pieces of flinty rock and tossing them, with a flick of the wrist, into the ocean, skipping once over the waves before breaking the surface with a depressing 'thunk.' Shikamaru, head tilted back until his neck hurt, watched the clouds.

"Shut up," grumbled Temari, giving her companion a hard nudge in the ribs and drawing a slight hiss of irritation from him. "I'm getting it."

"Not skimming stones."

"This?"

"Us."

"Is that so?"

"It's troublesome."

Temari, twisting a loose strand of blonde hair around one finger, eyed him critically. It was too late in the day for this kind of mind-game; the sun was sinking in the distance - against a miserably grey and navy sky, rather than the vivid colours Ino had promised her on the road - and the tide was lapping at their toes, at the very edge of the beach. She shivered. At least in the desert's freezing night, she wasn't wet.

"I know," she muttered, picking up another stone. "We live too far away from each other."

"Konoha and Suna's treaty is paper-thin."

"There's not even supposed to be relationships between hidden villages."

Twist wrist, throw - skip, skip, plop - the stone fell in again.

Shikamaru dragged his gaze, with some effort, from the sky and cast a tired look at Temari. They were both exhausted, that much was obvious - Temari's hair hung loose and lank with salt-water around her shoulders, sticking to her damp, tanned skin. His own hair was all over the place, half in and half out of his usually rigid ponytail, and his limbs were heavy with sleep.

"You're doing it wrong," his own chakra, pale blue, flared at his fingers as he sent a particularly round stone skipping into the sunset, disappearing in the distance.

"You're too critical," Temari snorted, and tried again.

"You never stop complaining."

"You're a cry-baby."

"You're low."

"You let me be."

"You look terrible when you're wet," muttered Shikamaru. Temari tensed. He could feel the sudden tension at his shoulder.

She met his hard eyes. "You only look human when you're wet."

"Ninja aren't supposed to be human."

"You're the worst kind of idiot."

"The over-worked kind?"

"The smart kind."

"A smart idiot?"

"You know math. You know strategy. You can predict your enemy's moves, break down their personality, make everything into probability."

"And what's idiotic about that?"

"People don't work like that. You don't know people."

"Tcheh."

"If you were fighting Kankuro," she said, "and he was using Karasu, binding your team – all three of you are hanging by the strings of the puppet between you and him – and he flinched when he saw a spider, what's your immediate reaction?"

"Get Ino to summon some spiders."

"He'd panic, pull the strings tighter and accidentally squash you to death."

Tossing another stone, Shikamaru watched it drop straight into the water, the chakra dissipating at the surface. A lapse in concentration.

"Then I'd-"

"You'd be dead. No second chances."

"I know."

"Idiot." Temari smirked, reaching out to brush some of the sopping-wet black hair from his forehead.

"You know people?"

"Nobody knows people. People don't know people. Not even themselves."

The little pile of flat rock by Temari's side had dwindled to two more stones, oddly-shaped and almost impossible to skim naturally. Her fingers lingered over one, tracing the whorls of fossil at its surface.

"People are-"

"-troublesome?"

"… yeah." Shikamaru's hand closed over hers. "You're doing it wrong."

"Teach me properly," her green eyes twinkled as his fingers slipped through hers, taking a hold of the stone and twisting the palm of her hand sideways before his chakra blazed through her skin and sunk into the stone. Despite the cool colour, it was hot.

She gasped.

The stone shot from their hands in one slight, but firm toss, and skipped across the sea into the sunset.

"You'll feel a jolt when you're doing it right," he mumbled, letting go.

"Do you still feel a jolt?"

"We're not talking about the stones."

"We're not."

"Trouble-"

"-some. Answer the question."

"Do I still feel a jolt?"

She pushed the last stone into his hand and linked their fingers.

"Maybe," he said.

"Then that's that."

She threw, a blast of red chakra, hopping across the water into the sunset.

"I've just lost, haven't I?" Shikamaru asked.

"See? Smart idiot."