Disclaimer: Naruto and his friends are owned by Kishimoto.

Rating: T

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Just a tiny problem that is

These past few days he has been taking care of Temari.

The woman needs help with everything.

Everything.

Morning starts with the woman waking him, asking—no— demanding him to scratch her back. Why does it always itch on the upper right portion of her back? Troublesome woman. Troublesome way to start his day.

Then Temari will take her bath, sometimes forcing him to take it with her in order to wash her hair. But after he deals with her blonde tresses, he'll be kicked out of the bathroom. Not even a thank-you sex after.

So twice he's lucky, Temari just allows him to catch up on his sleep but always, always she will shake him awake with her bra dangling in front of his face.

What man would like putting a bra on his woman? He should be taking it off not putting it on Temari.

With a sigh, Shikamaru reluctantly will stand up and take Temari's bra. The first time they did it, his wife turned around so according to her he could see the lock on her back.

Tch, as if he needs to see the troublesome lock. If he could unclip it unseen then he could clip it unseen. Simple.

So Temari would remain standing, naked, in front of him while he eases on her bra to cup his favourite twins before his arms could encircle her to hook into place the bra at her back. It usually takes a moment or two to clip the bra tactilely into place…a moment or two of opportunity to touch the twins with his naked chest.

Hearing a growl, it's time to say goodbye to the twins. Picking up the yukata, he even has to wrap Temari with it before striding towards the door and twisting the knob, opening their bedroom door for her highness.

Temari, rushing out, will wait by the kitchen table knowing he'll follow her. Putting on some shirt, he will, to prepare breakfast.

As the eggs are frying, he'll hear Asuma's whimper, a signal that the little man is about to cry.

Leaving the eggs, he'll go fetch Asuma from his crib and carry the baby towards the kitchen where his mother is.

The mother, welcoming the baby, will make what she thinks are cute cooing noises which just sounded more like a big cat's alarming mewl and makes a gesture of outstretching both her arms to receive the tearful Asuma.

The baby's tears abruptly stop as he smiles at Temari. Gurgling happily, he loves his mother's antics.

But Shikamaru will not have any of that. Ignoring Temari's outstretched arms; he will put Asuma instead on his high chair. The result will be the baby contorting every which way with his arms and feet as he fights off his father's hold and the high chair.

Finally strapped in, Asuma's indignant cries also wind down and Shikamaru can then try saving the eggs.

But too bad the sunny side up is more like sun burned eggs already, a yellowish brown rubber with burnt edges.

"I won't eat that," suddenly a voice will complain. While sleepily rubbing her eyes, Shikari peers at the plate put on the table, a down tilt to her small lips.

"You will," Temari warns the new arrival.

"But mom—"

"Open the ketchup, will you, it will improve the taste," Temari interrupts.

"Mom, why are you still not well?" Shikari's small forehead frowns. "It isn't just a tiny problem, is it?" Shikari suddenly gasps, "You're not dying, are you?"

"Your mother is fine, Shikari," Shikamaru reassures nonchalantly as he wipes the dribble from his son's mouth. Somehow the mashed banana he's feeding him landed more on the little tyke's lips and chin than inside his mouth.

"Hmp," Temari grumbles loudly before trying to snatch Asuma's bib from Shikamaru's hand, feed up from watching the unsuccessful feeding. "Give me that," Temari snaps.

Shikamaru just continues cleaning Asuma's chin.

Temari glares furiously, not deeming to fight Shikamaru for the bib since the miniscule piece of cloth is tied around her baby's delicate neck. So instead, spying Asuma's plate she takes the small wooden spoon with her right hand and scoops the yellow mush but, in the end, with the baby's head moving around a lot playfully evading the spoon, the yellow mush again ends up on Asuma's chin.

"Wipe it," Temari orders Shikamaru.

Shikamaru dutifully obeys.

The two of them then work together to feed the baby, exchanging small smiles every time Temari misses her target.

"That's it. Mom is dying," the almost-four-year old cries after seeing Temari grin towards her father more than twice already. That has not happened before. Shikari can only therefore deduce just one reason. "She has to be, to be this nice to you," she reasons.

Asuma, hearing his sister's apprehensive high pitch tone, joins in immediately with his own loud sobs.

And all the adults' explanations fall on deaf ears.

When everything finally quiets down, Shikamaru is left with the household chores from washing the dishes, to doing the laundry, to even pruning Temari's plants, and carrying Asuma around.

Shikari, of course, goes off and sticks to her mom like glue, helping her with anything she needs.

Night crawls in slowly in the Nara household.

And when it does, Shikamaru will tiredly sit on the floor, sipping a cup of sake, releasing another sigh for another long day done.

Pleasantly intoxicated, he will approach and push the already open bedroom door wider. His wife is finally asleep; her left hand with the sore bandaged thumb resting on a throw pillow beside her head.

"Tch," Shikamaru mumbles to himself. He broke his finger once before and it took forever for it to heal. Good thing it wasn't his thumb, otherwise, he would have probably married anyone willing to fasten his pants for him then.

—o0o—

~4 27 12AF~

~U8 21 12~

A/N: Hmn anybody guessed what's ailing Temari beforehand? Oh well, yup, just try buttoning your pants without your thumb. Or try opening doorknobs and ketchup bottles thumbless… Behold our mighty thumb.