He wasn't waiting at the gate when she arrived.

This was, in fact, unusual, as through the years she had been serving as ambassador, despite all of his complaining he had never missed a chance to see her if he knew she was coming to Konoha.

Temari frowned, squinting in the late afternoon sun of the early spring. This wasn't how their game was played. The game that the two of them had been playing for who knows how many years, the game that the two of them liked to pretend didn't exist; but they both knew had clear and well-established rules.

He picks her up at the gate. They banter. She would insult him outright. He would insult her more sneakily. They would smile at each other and go eat at her favorite restaurant in Konoha. Some nosy waitress or acquaintance would inevitably ask them if they were on a date. They would act annoyed and deny it, but she's seen the way he looks at her when he thinks she isn't paying attention.

Temari's not an idiot—she's a grown woman with needs and desires, and has been trained from adolescence to weaponize her own sexuality if she needs to. She knows what desire looks like, and she likes to think that she knows how to use it to her benefit to get what she wants. She likes to think that if she wanted to, she could get Shikamaru to break the rules. But she never is quite so bold, and he never acts on it, it being the invisible sexual tension between them that is so strong it gets pointed out by their friends and even by damn strangers every time they're seen together.

The rules are: he never acts on it, and he walks her to her apartment, and she invites him inside for tea and a game. They play shogi, and he beats her, but she always makes it difficult and puts up a good fight.

This is Temari's favorite part of the evening; the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor, relaxed, the comforting aroma of the tea steaming at their sides. He usually takes his uniform vest off when they play, and while he's concentrating on the game, she allows herself the pleasure of admiring the lines of his body. The ridiculous hair, the point of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, the slope of his neck. The broad lines of his wide shoulders she particularly likes; Time had been good to him there. His big hands and slender fingers with short clean nails catching her eye as they out to move pieces on the board. She pretends to be annoyed when he looks her in the eye when she's realizes that she's lost, what used to be a smug expression on his handsome face has transformed over these sessions into a real smile: soft, sincere. For her. He likes to win, but more than that she suspects he likes to spend this time with her. When he stands to leave, she usually remains seated. They exchange the usual snarky pleasantries and he walks out the door, she says he'll see her at the next day's diplomatic meetings.

The last time they performed this little ritual, the night before she was to return to Suna, he surprised her when he picked up their two teacups and brought them to the sink in her small kitchen. From her seat on the floor, next to the board displaying her most recent defeat, Temari made an impulsive decision. This was the first time he had deviated from the rules, and she found it alarmingly thrilling. As she listened to the clinking sounds of him washing the teacups and placing them down to dry, she reached up and pulled the ties out of her hair, shaking out her blond waves. When he emerged from the kitchen, she was gratified by the brief but obvious expression of surprise that flashed across his face, before he visibly schooled himself into his usual blank expression.

"What? You've never seen a woman with her hair down before?" She asked, wincing internally as what she was aiming to be teasing words came out a little more aggressive than she had intended.

Shikamaru's mouth tugged into a smirk. Snark was familiar territory; he must have thought. Safe ground. "If this is some kind of distraction maneuver, Temari, I will remind you that you already lost the game," he taunted, making his way towards the door.

Taken off guard by the lack of reaction to her obvious deviation from the rules, Temari abandoned the playful tone and intuitively reverted to her habitual way of speaking with him: insults.

"Idiot! You just took too long getting out of my space that I couldn't take it anymore! Your presence always gives me a headache," she called after him, blindly grabbing at the nearby game pieces. Shikamaru's eyes widened as he sensed the oncoming violence, and he managed to slip through the door as Temari hurled the pieces towards his retreating form with full shinobi strength.

The pieces embedded in the door as it closed, but she could not hear his footsteps. There was a long pause. Was he going to come back inside? She waited quietly, and then heard the sound of Shikamaru's lazy shuffle move down the hallway. Temari looked down at the floor. You idiot, she thought. You took a risk and you fell flat on your face. Eyes sliding shut, she tilted her face up towards the ceiling, drawing in a labored breath. Will things go back to the way they were?

That was two months ago. At present, Temari was standing at the Konoha gate in the light of the green spring day, becoming increasingly annoyed that Shikamaru had broken the first of their many established patterns of behavior. She stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and started down the road towards Konoha's restaurant district. He may not have been there to greet her, but she was pretty damn hungry from her journey and resolved to strategize over a meal at her favorite place, even if it was alone.

She ended up getting take-out and bringing it back to her apartment after the restaurant owner asked her where her "boyfriend" was, further piling on to Temari's growing mountain of frustration. As she ate, standing alone at her kitchen counter, she found her gaze drifting to the shogi set, annoyed that this one little change in her routine had thrown her so off balance. Frustrated and determined not to let this affect her like an emotional little girl, she resolutely finished her meal and set off to take a bath. As she dumped bath salts into the hot water and lit scented candles with a little more force than usual, she repeated to herself: I am not a teenager, I am stronger than this, and resolved to beat her mind into submission by force and greet him at tomorrow's meetings in a way that let him know that she wouldn't stand for this change in the game. She lowered herself into the steaming water all the way up to her chin and closed her eyes, smiling to herself. I am Sabaku no Temari, and it is so on.

At the next morning's meeting, Temari seated herself very deliberately opposite Shikamaru. She allowed herself to stare at him more openly that she had in the past; she wanted to make him uncomfortable. Their rules had been carefully followed that she knew he would pick up that this, a seemingly small gesture, was a flagrant violation of the rules. Uncomfortable enough to finally act on what she knew was a mutual understanding of attraction. After meeting her gaze across the table now fewer than three times in five minutes, he sent her a questioning look, arching one thin eyebrow as an elderly diplomat droned on in the background about the upcoming adjustment in trade tariffs between Wind and Fire Country. She arched an eyebrow back and kicked him under the table, and enjoyed the resulted wince.

Temari didn't look at him again for the rest of the meeting, but she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

Later, on her way out the door, Shikamaru appeared at her side and stopped her with a hand on her elbow. Temari spoke before he could say anything.

"I'm a little disappointed you never showed last night. Now I finally understand what distracts you, and I was sure I was going to win."

She turned and left before he could speak, leaving Shikamaru standing in the hall with his hand still outstretched and his jaw hanging open.

That'll do, she said to herself. It's only a matter of time.

Later that evening, after having the customary dinner with the Konoha kunoichi of her social circle and a cold shower to wash off the heat and sweat of the day, Temari put on her pajamas and settled in to wait. Reclining on her couch, she was dressed in an old t-shirt that she had worn to bed since she was 17, a little too short and tight across the chest for use in public, and a pair of small, comfortable shorts. She thoughtfully applied scented lotion to her arms and legs, and treated herself to using her expensive hair product, enjoying the gloss it gave to her curls and the scent that hung delicately around her face.

As such, Temari passed a pleasant couple of hours reading on the sofa, until she heard a quiet knock at the door. She glanced at the clock: 11:49 pm. The knocking resumed, louder this time, and she smiled to herself as she leisurely stood up from the sofa, stretched, and walked to the door. As the knocking resumed for a third time at an increasingly impatient rate, she swung the door open to reveal a slightly disheveled Shikamaru, ponytail a little looser than usual, cheeks lightly flushed, and his hand still raised to knock.

Temari observed his face carefully as he straightened to his full height and took in her outfit, his eyes lingering on the tight pull of the small shirt across her breasts, the exposed strip of her stomach, the tanned length of her legs, her bare feet. When his eyes finally came back to meet hers, she allowed herself a smirk.

"Did you just come here to ogle me, or is there a reason you're showing up at my door at midnight on a Tuesday?"

Hearing her speak seemed to pull him together. "Can I come in?" he asked.

She nodded and stood aside, and he entered the apartment the apartment. This wasn't the tone she had expected from him. Another deviation from their rules; they rarely spoke to each other so seriously.

He stood in the middle of her living room and turned, looking at a fixed point somewhere over her shoulder. He gestured towards the floor in the general direction of the shogi board.

"Let's play."

"That's why you're here? To play shogi in the middle of the night?"

He looked directly at her then, expression carefully unreadable. This was so odd. Temari felt turbulent emotions rise from deep inside her, felt them pushing at her ribs. She plowed on, words spilling out of her mouth that had been unsaid for years, finally saw the light.

"We were supposed to play yesterday, Shikamaru. But you broke the rules. The first one being: you pick me up at the gate. Then we go eat, and then we play shogi. You gave up your chance when you failed to perform rule number one."

He turned away. Was he embarassed? Temari 's words kept coming, Now that the dam was broken, a flood was inevitable.

"Was this because of what happened last time? That divergence from the rules? You did something that deviated from the tracks we've been on for so long, and just that little deviation gave me the idea that maybe finally we were acknowledging the thing we never speak about: the way you look at me."

At this Shikamaru's head snapped up and he looked her in the eye, expression stormy. "How I look at you?" he asked slowly, taking a step towards her. "How I look at you? God, Temari, you think I can't feel you watching me when we play? I can feel you looking at me and it makes it so hard for me to think!"

"Could have fooled me!"

"Fucking hell, Temari! You never make anything easy! Why do you have to keep antagonizing me when all I'm trying to do is live a normal life!" Shikamaru moved suddenly, crossing the room towards her in two longs strides. "My feelings about you were never supposed to be more than a crush. I mean, God, when I think about it, I've had a crush on you ever since we fought at the Chuunin Exams and through all these years you've made it be so easy to admire you, because I only see you every couple months and we always follow to the rules!"

Silenced momentarily upon hearing these uncharacteristically emotional words come out of Shikamaru's mouth, Temari didn't know whether to feel validated or upset. "You broke the rules first," she ground out. "You didn't leave right after the game like you always do!"

Shikamaru took another step closer, until he was close enough that she had to look up to look him in the eye. "You took your hair down," he began forcefully, "and you were so beautiful. And it was so unlike you that I wanted to believe that it meant something."

Temari was struck. To hear him compliment her outright and confirm out loud what she had long known to be true filled her with immense satisfaction, but she still didn't understand.

"Then why did you leave?"

"I knew if I stayed, I would do something stupid, like kiss you or embarrass myself with these feelings." He laughed harshly, without mirth. "I worried I would do what I'm doing right now."

"Like you're doing now? You haven't even kissed me yet, crybaby."

Shikamaru looked down at her then, brows drawn together and expression filled with open bewilderment, so unlike anything she had ever seen cross his face before that she almost laughed. But she didn't get the chance, because she suddenly found herself being kissed desperately as Shikamaru pressed himself against her, hands flying to her hair and the hinge of her jaw, holding her in place as he kissed her with bruising force.

Temari responded in kind, opening her mouth and allowing their tongues to battle for dominance in a manner that resembled all of their other many arguments where neither was willing to back down. Her hands came up to grip the shoulders of his uniform vest, and she reveled in the feeling of his hands on her body, the sensation of his calluses as he slid his hand down her neck, the slight twinge of pain as he tugged on her hair, encouraging her to tilt her head back, to open to up to him.

Shikamaru must have decided that he needed some more leverage, because he walked Temari backwards until her back abruptly hit the kitchen counter. She gasped at the burst of sudden pain, breaking the kiss, and then found herself being hoisted until she was perched on the counter. Shikamaru looked like he was about to say something, but Temari wrapped her legs around his waist and hauled him in, and his hands flew to her hips, grabbing on and pulling her to his until she could feel the growing evidence of his arousal pressed against her core. The exuberant feeling Temari had of finally knowing that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him was quickly forgotten as she felt his hands move under her shirt above her waist, long fingers stroking the skin of her back as his he reclaimed her lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

Temari's chest felt tight and she felt the heat of arousal low in her belly. She felt lightheaded, couldn't remember the last time a man made her feel this way. She moaned into his mouth and arched into his touch, rolling her hips against his erection, eliciting a moan from him.

This movement seemed to awaken the rational part of Shikamaru's brain that had been absent since he showed up at her door, and he abruptly broke the kiss and looked down at her, chest heaving, regaining some of his broken control. Temari looked up at him questioningly, confused and out of breath, but he seemed to find his composure, hands moving to her thighs as he looked down at the counter.

"I can't do this, Temari."

She smiled, grabbed his chin so he was forced to look at her. "It sure feels like you can do it to me," she teased, grinding her hips against his lightly.

His face fell, and he pried her legs from around his waist, taking a few steps back and away from her to begin pacing anxiously, running a hand through his hair.

"Don't joke about this, Temari," he said tightly. "Please."

She closed her mouth. It was a rare thing to see him so worked up. Had he ever asked her a question so politely before?

Shikamaru sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, stopping his pacing and turning to face her.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me? How you make me feel? The kinds of things I think when I'm around you? I would like nothing more than to rip off those tiny shorts and fuck you right there on the counter. But I can't."

"Why, Shikamaru?" Temari asked heatedly, taking in his appearance: the flush still high in his cheeks, the way his hands couldn't seem to stay still. As he looked at her his eyes were hard, looking at her in a way he hadn't in in years. To see him so closed off made Temari unexpectedly emotional. She had been feeling the warmth from his gaze for so long, to see it extinguished in moments left her feeling extremely off-balance.

Tamping down on her gut reaction of anger, Temari spoke in a low voice, level and calm. "If you had any doubts about my attraction to you, what we just did must have dispelled them."

Shikamaru lowered his gaze and looked somewhere in the direction of her feet, dangling from where she was still seated on the counter. Temari could still feel the imprint of where he had touched her, the way his hands, only moments ago, had slid under her shirt by her waist, how he had left her lips swollen and bruised from the intensity with which he had kissed her.

The silence drew on. He wouldn't look at her. Temari was uncomfortable, and feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she could remember being in a long time. She decided she would have to be the one to break the silence, and drew in a deep breath.

"I want you, Shikamaru," she said, her voice embarrassingly earnest to her own ears. To go against her ingrained habits of being avoiding directly expressing her feelings at all cost was making her feel like she had been stripped naked, and she suppressed a shiver and gripped the end of the counter, seeking some sense of solid ground.

Shikamaru looked up then, and the gaze he fixed her with was softer, yet still penetrating. The lines of his scowl smoothed out, and he suddenly looked very young.

"Temari," he began, "you have to know that I want you, so badly, but don't you understand? Sleeping with you now would fulfill every fantasy I've had since I was fourteen, but it would break me. To allow myself to hope would, will, crush me...we live in different villages, for fuck's sake, Temari, to be with you now would destroy any chance I would have at a normal life!"

This was not the response Temari expected her confession to garner. Her repressed anger flared, and suddenly incensed she pushed herself off of the counter and crossed the room, put herself up in his face, couldn't hold herself back from yelling at him.

"Why, Shikamaru? Because I'm so fucking messed up? Because I'm too much of a pain in the ass for your cookie cutter notions of what a life should be?"

The anger in her voice and in her eyes brought the scowl back to his face, the power to his voice, and the hardness back to his eyes. "That's not what I mean and you know it! Stop putting words in my mouth, Temari! Fuck! This is exactly what I'm talking about, every little thing you do and you say drives me crazy, makes me unable to think clearly!"

"Oh? And you'd rather have a life where you would go unchallenged at every turn? Find some boring girl who doesn't call you on your bullshit, who's no match for you intellectually?" Temari couldn't stop herself from getting closer to his face as she spat out the words. "This is fucking typical of you, Nara, choosing to back away when things are just getting good. I can't believe I wasted years thinking that you would finally show some goddamn backbone and choose me!"

Eyes wide and inches from Shikamaru's face, Temari was shocked that she had let those words, those dangerous thoughts, fly out of her mouth. Shikamaru stood there, silent, holding her gaze, matching her green eyes flashing with anger with his own. Then he turned, and walked mechanically towards the door.

Temari was struck dumb. After all this buildup, all these years, she didn't think he would actually leave when the tension finally snapped, even after what they had said to each other. Shikamaru reached for the doorknob and opened the door, pausing to look at her over his shoulder.

Temari unconsciously held her breath. Was he about to prove her right?

"I'll see you around, Temari. Goodbye."

The door clicked shut behind him. Temari, standing alone in the middle of room, the click of the door echoing in her mind, was left with the feeling that by testing the limits of the rules of their game, she had shut that door forever.

Numbly, and not really knowing what she was supposed to do, she walked out of the living room and climbed into bed. Turning off the light, she lay staring at the ceiling in the dark, replaying their argument over and over in her mind's eye. She had never seen Shikamaru act that way before, had never seen the way he looked at her change so abruptly, so many times. She was overcome with how much it had hurt.

She felt tears springing to her eyes, and was filled with rage. She had never shed tears over a man before, and she sure as hell wasn't about to start now. Blinking the tears away, she rolled onto her side and repeated to herself like a mantra: I am Sabaku no Temari, and I am stronger than this.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Temari saw Shikamaru in the diplomatic meetings they were both obligated to attend, but he wouldn't look at her unless norms of politeness required he do so. Even then, he was distant and overly formal in his address, and wouldn't look her in the eye.

When they walked out of the room after the final meeting of the week, the day before she was to leave Konoha until the next round of meetings in three months, he passed her in the hallway as she was headed out the doors of Hokage Tower.

"Goodbye, Temari-san." He inclined his head respectfully as they passed each other, didn't break his gait.

Temari-san? He hadn't been that formal with her in years, not since before the war. Bewildered, as she walked away from the tower, Temari felt like that added syllable was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. Distracted and caught up in her thoughts, she was much less observant than usual as she walked down the street and didn't notice Sakura and Ino until it was too late.

"Temari-san!" They called out, rushing up to greet her. Ino gave her an enthusiastic hug. "I'm so happy we caught you before you return to Suna! You have to have dinner with us, we've barely seen you all week!" Ino said excitedly.

Temari opened her mouth to politely decline, but the eager (and slightly unhinged) way Ino was looking at her indicated that she wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Temari sighed inwardly. "Sure thing, Ino," she began resignedly, "but it's your treat. Where to?"

And that was how Temari found herself seated at a small table in a barbeque restaurant, boxed in by two friends who she knew to be two of Konoha's biggest gossips. While she didn't doubt the authenticity of their desire to see her off before she left town for an extended period, she knew she would have to be careful choosing her words.

"So Temari, when will you be back in Konoha?" asked Sakura, "I haven't had the chance to see you this whole week! There was a big birthday party for Choji two days ago, and I was hoping to see you there! Where were you hiding?" Her tone was teasing, but Temari wasn't stupid. She was obviously fishing for information, and frankly, Sakura must be desperate for it if she put so little effort into hiding it. Ino couldn't even contain her enthusiasm for Temari's answer, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

"I was given an unexpected amount of work to do by the diplomatic council, and I had to stay in and get it finished before yesterday's meetings," Temari said carefully, and decided to lay it on thick. "I heard about the party, but it just wasn't possible for me to get there—I was working straight through until after midnight."

Ino made a loud noise of indignation. "Midnight! That's when things were only getting good! The party went on until after 3!"

"I went straight to bed, Ino, I'm sorry. I already passed on my condolences to Choji for missing his party and wished him a happy birthday."

Ino drew back, leaning against the back of her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, and fixed Temari with a shrewd gaze. After a moment, she lifted her hand to her chin and looked up into the middle distance in an exaggeration expression of deep pondering. "It was a great party," she drawled, "but Shikamaru was in such a terrible mood. I haven't seen him drink that much in a long time."

Temari sensed a shift in mood. This wasn't information extraction anymore—this was about to become a full-blown interrogation. She felt her heart rate pick up against her will, and dug her fingernails into her chair under the table. She schooled her expression into a blank mask.

"Nara has always had a proclivity towards bad habits," Temari said evenly. "Smoking, drinking... for a guy who thinks he's so smart, he makes a lot of stupid choices."

Ino narrowed her eyes. "It seemed to me like Shikamaru had a reason to be upset that night."

Temari returned Ino's gaze, held it. After a beat Ino turned to Sakura and continued: "When I happened to lament the fact that our dear friend Temari wasn't at the party, Shikamaru became rather upset. Don't you remember, Sakura?"

Sakura nodded eagerly; her desire to confirm whatever suspicions she had about Shikamaru and Temari's relationship far outweighed her desire to be subtle about it. "Yeah! He got very angry when I mentioned your name and actually left the party to go for a 'smoke'...it was quite a while before he came back in, isn't that right, Ino?"

Ino turned back to Temari with a smug expression and went in for the kill. "There must have been trouble in paradise. I hope you two didn't have a fight?"

Temari felt the sting of pain as her nails dug further into the wood of her chair, and forced herself to breathe evenly. "Nara and I always fight, Ino, nothing happened this week that was any different."

Ino clearly wasn't buying it. "That's interesting, Temari, Because I could have sworn I heard him grumbling to himself about 'the rules' as he went by. Would you have any idea what he could be referring to?"

Temari raised her arms in a shrug and plastered on a wide smile, making sure to show all her teeth.

"Ino, I have no idea."

As she sped through the cool morning air on the road back to Suna, Temari allowed herself to finally think over what Ino and Sakura had told her the previous evening. Choji's party was the night following the night that Shikamaru had shown up at her door. Though they had been trying to provoke her, the testimony of Ino and Sakura led Temari to the logical conclusion that she had been on Shikamaru's mind, that he hadn't calmly shut her out of his head like his cold behavior towards her at the week's meetings had led her to believe.

She smiled to herself as the greenery of Fire Country flashed by. By the time she reached the desert, she felt lighter, reassured, by the knowledge that he had been as affected by what had happened as she was.

Three uneventful months passed. The height of summer faded away to autumn, and it was time for Temari to return to Konoha. She would be lying to herself if she said the prospect of seeing Shikamaru again didn't make her nervous. She had spent the time since she had left Fire Country aggressively trying to squash her lingering hopes about him through a variety of means. She worked herself to exhaustion in masochistic training sessions, but she kept thinking about the feeling of his hands on her body when she was alone in bed at night, so she turned to anonymous sex. But the sex was always disappointing; while it scratched an itch, she found herself comparing the shape of these men to the lines of the body she was trying hard to forget. The first man was too short, and his hands were small, not nearly wide enough to span the expanse of her back from hip to hip. The second man was too muscular, his frame bulky and awkward, lacking grace. She wasn't attracted to the way he moved.

As she made the three-day journey between villages, Temari attempted to distract herself with the scenery. She always relished the opportunity to travel through Fire Country at such a time. Growing up in the desert, she had come to appreciate how her diplomatic travels allowed her to experience the changing of the seasons that Wind Country lacked. The vibrant red and orange of the leaves against the bright blue sky made her happy, cleared her mind for a time. Then she noticed the clouds, white and puffy against the blue, and instantly thought of Shikamaru: in his familiar pose of lying on his back with his hands behind his head and one leg bent at the knee, taking in the slow roll of the clouds as they crossed the patch of sky above his head.

Temari turned her gaze back to the road ahead, annoyed that something as common as the clouds in the sky involuntarily turned her thoughts to him. She hadn't heard a word from or about Shikamaru in the time since they had last parted, and she had prepared herself for the likelihood that she would not see him outside of their diplomatic duties during her stay in Konoha.

Therefore, when she arrived at the gate, she was not surprised that nobody was there to meet her.

Without missing a beat, she strode through Konoha, greeted familiar faces, stopped to chat with Tenten and accept a dinner invitation, and headed for her apartment.

As she turned the corner onto her street, she was thrown off guard when she saw a familiar silhouette propped against her building. Eyes wide, she halted in her tracks. Shikamaru wasn't looking at her, but she knew he must be aware of her appearance. She watched the end of the cigarette in his mouth burn bright for a moment, before he took it in his slender fingers and lowered it to his side, exhaling the smoke in a steady stream. Temari shook herself out of her stillness, and began to walk towards him.

Shikamaru raised his head to face her as she moved towards him, dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his toe. The acrid scent hung in the air as Temari stood before him. Shikamaru held her eyes for a few moments, expression calm and unreadable, but not cold. Temari looked back at him, confusion openly written across her face, until he pushed himself off the wall and stood to his full height.

"Come with me," he said quietly, and turned to walk down the street.

Now Temari was irritated. This was what he had to say to her after months of silence? After the way he had treated her at their last parting? But curiosity quickly got the better of her, and she jogged to catch up to him as he walked leisurely down the road.

She looked up at him. He didn't speak. She studied him openly as they walked side by side in the golden light of the autumn evening. All around them, people were running errands and having loud conversations; the street was filled with noise. He kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes never strayed from the path in front of them as he led her around a corner and through a series of quieter streets. They came to a series of stone stairs, and without pause he began to climb. Temari halted at the bottom, and Shikamaru was on the fourth step before he noticed she wasn't beside him. He turned to look down at her questioningly.

"Where are you taking me, Nara? What the hell is going on?" Temari asked, voice brittle. The silence as they walked had made her feel itchy and uncomfortable; too close to her own thoughts, too far away from his.

Shikamaru sighed. "Just follow me, woman, we're just going to the top of the stairs." He turned and continued up the steps, leaving Temari to huff out her exasperation and follow behind him reluctantly. When she reached the top of the steps, she was surprised to find a sloping grassy park, quiet and empty in the late evening. The sun hung low in the sky; the sky was awash with color. The only noise that could be heard were the intermittent chirping of unseen birds, the shuffling movement of small animals. It was peaceful, and very beautiful.

After taking in the view for a few moments, Temari turned and realized Shikamaru had been watching her.

"Is this why you brought me here?" Temari asked, confused. "To see the sunset? It's beautiful, but we do have sunsets in the desert."

At that, Shikamaru smiled, just a small uptick at the corners of his mouth. "I come here to watch the clouds, when I want to avoid thinking." He removed a hand from his pocket to gesture at the lush expanse of grass. "Come sit for a moment."

She followed him warily, and when he sat and proceeded to lie all the way back on the grass, she knelt a few feet away, feeling uncomfortable and unsure of how to act. His eyes slid closed, he brought his hands to cradle the back of his head, and lifted his right knee so his foot was planted on the ground.

Temari, increasingly bewildered, didn't know what to say. The rules had well and truly flown out the metaphorical window. She opted to face the sunset and enjoy the last of the autumn day's warmth on her face, observe how the colors of the sky shifted as the sun began to sink under the horizon.

Temari's mind began to race as she came up with a dozen possible outcomes of this bizarre encounter. She was brought suddenly back to the present by Shikamaru's voice: "I just told you that I come here when I don't want to think."

She turned back to face him. His eyes were still closed. His face was a perfect image of relaxation in the low light, save the small line between his eyebrows indicating the stress behind his words.

He continued: "After you left, I came here practically every day. I was very angry at you, you know." Temari bristled instinctively at this, but remained silent.

"This place used to be a haven for me. A place where my mind could go completely blank. But after what we said to each other three months ago, it didn't work anymore." One brown eye cracked open, focused on her. "All I could think about was you."

Temari looked down at him in shock. Unable to speak in that moment, she could feel a blush, unbidden, rising in her cheeks. Confused by his words and embarrassed by her lack of control over her body's reaction to them, she avoided his gaze and looked down at her hands in her lap. Shikamaru closed his eye again and continued speaking quietly.

"I couldn't stop replaying that night in my head, Temari. How you felt under my hands, the noises you made, the way your voice sounded when you said to me: I want you..." He trailed off here for a moment. Temari burned a confusing mix of hope and embarrassment, didn't dare to interrupt. Her throat felt dry. She clasped her fingers together; held on.

"But more than that, I kept hearing my own words over and over again. And at first, I thought I was justified in saying them. But after a while they started to sound pretty stupid. The girl I've been in love with for years said she wants me and I pushed her away, for what? A notion of normalcy I thought up at 14 and never thought to question..."

Shikamaru trailed off and was silent for a minute. Temari stared wide-eyed at her hands, mind racing. This sounded a lot like the confirmation of their mutual attraction she had been trying to get out of him three months ago, but after what had passed between them this confession felt too good to be true. As she grappled with these thoughts, trying to piece together a response, she didn't hear him sit up.

She was startled by his fingers on her chin. Shikamaru gently tipped her face up, and her eyes snapped to meet his. His angular features, lit by the light of the setting sun, cast small shadows on his face.

"I didn't realize what you were doing then, Temari, when you violated our rules. And despite fantasizing about it for years, I wasn't ready to see it play out in real life." His thumb stroked across her cheekbone. "I regret some of what I said that night, and I bet you do too, but I'm grateful that we said them because I know clearly what to do now, even if it will be an enormous pain in the ass down the road."

He smiled at her then, open and honest, and Temari was surprised to find herself speechless yet again. So, instead of speaking, she boldly reached out and threaded her hand through his hair, and his eyes flicked down to her lips. Satisfied with that reaction and gaining confidence, Temari tightened her grip in his hair, tilting his head back much like he had done to her that night months ago. His smile only widened. He had obviously been expecting such a reaction. She gave him a small smile.

"Idiot," she began. "I'm glad you finally caught on."

She kissed him then, confidently, and was happy to feel him respond immediately in kind. He leaned forward as the hand on her face slid, and he pressed his thumb into the hinge of her jaw, asking a silent question. She responded to his requested by turning the kiss into something open mouthed and filthy, sliding her tongue between his parted lips. As Shikamaru began to respond with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, Temari pulled back, just far enough to look him in the eyes. Shikamaru looked momentarily confused, and she was spurred on by how quickly she was able to make him lose his composure. Before he had a chance to think about it, she pushed him roughly on the chest and he fell back into the grass with a huff. She threw herself down on top of him, elbows caging his head, and he lifted his face up to once again fuse his mouth to hers.

Temari was gratified as his hands flew to her hips, first gripping and then encouraging her to straddle his waist. This connected them at the hips, sending a spark up Temari's spine and forcing a short groan from Shikamaru against her lips. She ground down against him, and he responded in kind, one of his broad hands sweeping up her back, pushing down to crush her breasts against his flak vest, the other sweeping down her thigh and coming back up to grab her ass through her kimono.

Shikamaru broke the kiss and slid his mouth in a hot line down her neck. Temari closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling, and was startled when he bit down suddenly on a patch of skin below her ear, pausing momentarily to suck on the spot he had just marked with his teeth.

Temari huffed out a laugh. "Marking me, Nara? You'll pay for that later." She laughed a little louder, as she realized their position. She was so caught up in emotion and desire, sprawled across his lap, that she had forgotten she was still wearing her fan strapped across her back and that his uniform vest was crushed uncomfortably against her breasts. She pushed herself up and off of his body, flopping to a reclining position close to him.

"Where the hell are you going, woman?" muttered Shikamaru, though the words lacked any real malice coming from a man with a goofy grin stretched across his usually stern features. Temari propped her head up on her hand and looked down at him. He smiled back up at her, a real smile that showed his teeth and reached his eyes, and she was very happy.

"I'm not having sex with you in this field, Nara. We're both public figures and," she gestured at her obi, the fan still sturdy on her back, "let's be honest: logistically, it's just not going to work right now."

The open smile on his face morphed into something closer to a leer. "Oh...you want to talk logistics? I am a genius after all, I'm sure I could figure something out..."

Temari sat up fully and smacked him on the arm. "Ow! Damnit, woman, I was kidding!" Shikamaru yelped, standing up in a hurry. He offered Temari his hand and pulled her to her feet. The last of the sunset's light was fading, and he was fuzzy in the near-darkness.

"Then, let me take you home, Princess," he said with a smirk.

"I actually am a princess, you idiot, you're the only person who gets away with talking to me like that," she replied primly. Though she pretended to be offended for pretenses sake, their banter had taken on the fun, light quality that it had used to, when they were relaxed in each other's presence. They made their way side by side back towards Temari's apartment, hands brushing occasionally, the contact as they walked through the streets a private enjoyment as the atmosphere between them crackled with the anticipation of further privacy.

Ten minutes later, the two of them stood once again outside the door of her apartment. The mood between them was markedly different from the desperation with which they had clashed on the hill. After simmering separately for so long, the initial coming together of two very strong-minded individuals had blazed as hotly as one might expect. The quiet walk back to her apartment had burned in a different way; the anticipation of what was to come and the promise of the fulfilment of many years of imagining a similar scenario kept them both quiet, wondering.

Wordlessly, Temari unlocked the door and stepped inside, looking back over her shoulder at Shikamaru with a small smile. She cocked her head in a silent invitation, and he followed her inside. The door shut quietly, and she leaned in towards him teasingly, only to reach around him and slide the lock on the door into place. The quiet snick echoed in the silent room. She stood up straight, looking up into Shikamaru's face, then reached behind her body and removed her fan from her back. Breaking the tense eye contact between them, she looked away to carefully lean the fan against the wall.

Looking back into Shikamaru's face, Temari saw the heat of arousal reawaken in his gaze. She slowly raised her hands and, resting her left hand on his shoulder, took the zipper of his flak vest in the fingers of her right. Raising an eyebrow, she smirked at him as she slowly unzipped his jounin vest, his gaze falling from hers momentarily to track the movement of her hand. Temari heard his sharp, quiet intake of breath, and was pleased at the reaction she was eliciting; that she could make something so simple an erotic act. She felt the weight of the years of tension between them vibrating in the air.

The zipper reached the bottom of the vest, so Temari pushed it over his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a whumpf, the sound startlingly loud in the still room. Shikamaru eyes darted again to meet her gaze, and Temari allowed herself a victorious smirk at how quickly he was seemingly to losing his composure.

She turned and walk slowly towards the bedroom, pausing to look at him over her shoulder. He was looking at her with the same kind of hard intensity she had seen in his eyes when they fought. He was breathing deeply; without his vest she could trace the rise and fall of his chest. She felt warm, felt the stirrings of arousal that she hadn't experienced in the months since they had so acrimoniously parted, that she hadn't experienced since the last time the two of them stood together in this room.

"Come on, then," Temari murmured. She turned and walked through the door to her bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed. Orange light from the street lamps came in through the window and diffused throughout the room, giving off just enough to see in the darkness. She paused to undo her hair ties one by one, shaking out her curls, as she heard his quiet footsteps coming up behind her.

His mouth attached hotly to the side of her neck as warm hands slid around her waist, holding her still. Shikamaru was pressed up close against her back, and she could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressed against her backside.

"I never thought I would have so many opinions about your hair," Shikamaru spoke quietly in her ear. His lips were so close, she could feel the wet warmth of his breath as he spoke. He continued: "I've spent years imagining what you look like with your hair down, imagining you would let me close enough to touch it. When you took it down that day, three months ago, I was so surprised. You were even more beautiful than I imagined, Temari..." His lips reattached to her neck, sucking another mark into her tanned skin as his hands slipped up her body; thumbs skimming the underside of her breasts. Flushing at the low timbre of his voice as he spoke these words in her ear, Temari drew in a sharp breath and tipped her head back against his shoulder, seeking to give him better access. She could feel her body heating up, felt too warm under her kimono.

Shikamaru drew away after one last nip to the soft skin just under her ear. His hands on her body pulled her, turning her in his arms. Temari lay her arms around his neck, rising up on her toes to kiss him hard for a moment before breaking away and fumbling with the red obi around her waist.

"Goddammit..." she muttered to herself. She glared up at Shikamaru when he dared to chuckle at her struggling. After a few more seconds, Temari triumphantly whipped the obi from her waist, dropping it on the floor. Her kimono, without the security of the belt, began to slip open, and she watched her partner's eyes drop from her face to her chest. Unashamedly, she opened the kimono fully and pushed it from her shoulders, letting it puddle at her feet. She was left standing in her underwear: a solid black bra and plain blue panties. After all, she had been travelling, and had assumed this would be an ordinary Sunday. But she didn't have time to feel uncomfortable standing before him; watching Shikamaru's eyes hungrily take in the planes of exposed skin, she knew she had no reason to feel insecure.

"Now you," Temari smirked at him, reaching out to the hem of the black shirt he wore under his uniform. His fingers beat her there before she had the chance to grab it, and he yanked it up and over his head, throwing it carelessly at his feet. Temari's fingers changed course to slide across the pale skin along the top of his pants, but before she could make any headway he was reaching for her, demanding her attention once again with a deep kiss.

This one was different than the other kisses they had shared that night. It lacked the desperation that followed Shikamaru's confession, but it wasn't sweet or tender. This was the kiss of two people who wanted to possess the other, to make their partner forget about everything else around them.

As Temari's hands wound into Shikamaru's hair, his own moved from the flare of her hips, up her sides, and around her back to free the clasp of her bra. Temari broke the kiss when she felt it come loose, shaking it off of her shoulders without a second thought. She then sat down on the bed, sliding backwards while feeling the heat of Shikamaru's gaze on her body, until she lay back fully reclined against the pillows. She felt warm despite the coolness of the night, her skin burning hot against the sheets, luminous in the diffuse orange light.

"Well?" she said, regarding him steadily, a challenge in her voice. Her tone was quiet, but authoritative, and Shikamaru smirked in response as his fingers went to his zipper. He didn't say anything as he shucked his pants and took his underwear with it, erect cock bobbing as he stood back up. He observed her for several moments, taking in the image before him: Temari sprawled on the bed in nothing but her panties, blond halo on the pillows around her face. Totally unashamed in his nudity, Shikamaru took the time to relish the little things he was learning about her body, things that had been hidden from him under her clothes all the years they had known each other. How her thick hair was actually kind of curly when it wasn't stuck up in her ponytails. How she had a thin, pink scar crossing her upper thigh—long healed— another on her abdomen. The color of her nipples, a dusky pinkish-brown, set against the canvas of her sun-kissed skin.

Her blue-green eyes flashed at him in the low light of the bedroom. After watching his eyes track over the curves and planes of her body for what felt like a short eternity, she was about to open her mouth and tell him to get a move on when he reached out and wrapped his broad hand around her right ankle. Temari's mind raced, and she realized he hadn't just been staring at her, but likely charting a plan of attack.

His thumb skimmed across the sensitive skin on the inside of her ankle, sending goosebumps racing up her leg. He shifted and knelt on the edge of the bed, moving to crawl over her body. Letting his hand slide up her leg and over her waist, his face came to be level with her as he planted his other hand on the pillow by her left shoulder. His eyes were black, all pupil, as he gazed down at her heatedly.

Shikamaru's left hand slid up Temari's waist to cup her breast, and she gasped as he weighed it in his palm and thumbed across her nipple, already hard and peaked just from the feeling of his eyes on her body. He lowered his head as if to kiss her.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about you laid out like this, under me?" he asked almost casually, his lips a scant inch above hers. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, forcing a gasp out of Temari as she unconsciously arched her back into the touch. He lowered his head to the right to kiss her neck as he continued his assault on her breast.

"I've had a lot of time to think, through the years, and I have a very active imagination. I still can't really believe you're letting me touch you like this," he said, voice scratchy. He ground his hips down here, and she stifled a moan, spreading her legs wider as he rocked against her sensitive core.

He released her breast and took her wrists in his hands, pinning them on the pillows next to her head, continuing to roll his hips against her teasingly. Temari's breath came faster, but she allowed herself to be held there, tilted her chin up defiantly even liquid heat pooled in her belly and she felt her control start to slip. A small noise, almost a whimper, slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Shikamaru's smirk widened. His face was very closed to hers—she could feel the warmth of his breath ghost across her lips. "I've always wondered about the noises you would make," he murmured as he tightened the hold on her wrists. "Don't hold them back. I want to hear you."

He kissed her then, hard and desperately while continuing to grind his cock into the covered apex of her thighs. Temari moaned shamelessly into his mouth and her fingers flexed instinctively for something to grab onto, but then Shikamaru was pulling away as quickly as he had attacked. He moved his mouth with intent down her body, pressing hot open mouth kisses to her collarbone, the hollow in between her breasts, finally taking her right nipple into his mouth and scraping it roughly with his teeth, running the fingers of his left hand across the front of her panties. Temari cried out as he continued to tease the pink bud with his teeth and tongue while stroking her folds through the fabric, feeling her wetness even through the barrier. He moved to her other breast, giving it the same harsh treatment, causing Temari to writhe under him. She threw a hand to his head, fingers digging into his hair as she held him to her chest as her other hand gripped his shoulder, nails digging in.

His mouth released her breast and he raised his eyes to look up at Temari's face gaze heated and heavy-lidded. He placed an open mouth kiss on her trembling stomach, then another a couple inches lower, making a trail that moved lower and lower until he was achingly close to where she wanted him to touch her the most. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down and off, throwing them carelessly behind him. Temari didn't have a moment to think about the sudden exposure because Shikamaru had pushed her legs wide and was delicately running an exploratory finger through the wetness between her thighs. Temari, having had many private fantasies about what his slender fingers could do, ground her hips down shamelessly against the contact, pleased when he took the hint and stroked her more firmly, finally letting his index finger slip inside her.

"Ah!" she gasped, back arching off the bed as he pumped his finger slowly in and out. "More, Shikamaru!" she cried as the tension coiled in her belly wound tighter, spreading heat throughout her limbs.

He obeyed her plea immediately, slipping his middle finger in alongside the other seamlessly, eyes riveted to the spot where they disappeared inside her body. Temari tossed her head and moaned as his curled his fingers, quickly finding the spot inside of her that made her see stars, relentlessly stroking it over and over again. Temari cried out and lost all sense of time as she felt herself rising quickly towards orgasm, the tension in her lower belly white-hot and tighter by the second. Her fingers grasped the sheets as she cried out.

"Ah! Shikamaru! I'm so close!"

Seemingly pleased at hearing her call his name, he surprised her by lowering his mouth to her clit, sucking on it harshly as his fingers ramped up their assault. A few moments of the dual stimulation—the friction of his long fingers and the hot wetness of his mouth on her most sensitive place—sent Temari over the edge, her core clenching around his fingers as she cried out his name.

Shikamaru continued to lap at her clit and slowly pump his fingers as she rode out the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm in her recent memory, finally releasing her and moving back up her body to reclaim her mouth. She returned his kiss with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his lean waist, grinding up against the silky hardness of his straining cock. His composure finally seemed to break, then, and he pulled back far enough to ask if she had a condom handy, and then followed her instructions to rifle through the drawer in the nightstand.

As he rolled the condom down his length, he wondered briefly why she would have these in Konoha, and was overcome with a surge of jealously. He steadied himself by her head as he used his other to lift her right leg to rest on his shoulder, spreading her wide and aligning himself with her opening. He let out a broken groan as slipped inside her, Temari gasping as he sunk into her inch by inch, her body easily accommodating him as he drew out and made an experimental thrust, forcing a choked moan to slip from her lips. Embolded by her reaction, he thrust again, a little harder, and was gratified with the same noise. He tightened his grip on her thigh pressed against his chest, and Temari squeezed her eyes shut as he began as rhythm, hard and deep, the sounds of his exertion mingling with her breathy moans in the air between them. Shikamaru's eyes roved over her wild hair, the beautiful flush that had spread from her face all the way down to her chest, the bouncing movement of her breasts with every hard thrust.

They moved together like this for several minutes, Shikamaru cataloging her every noise, every reaction, when he suddenly let her leg drop. Slinging them one by one behind his waist, he rose up onto his knees, strong hands holding her hips up and off of the bed completely as he drove into her with increasing speed. Temari's eyes snapped open as the new angle scraped deliciously inside her, sending her barreling down the path towards a second orgasm. She reached a hand down and began making quick, rough circles on her clit, desperate noises escaping her on every thrust, crying out yes, there, Shikamaru, please as she felt the tension wind tighter inside her belly. Sensing her climax was near, Shikamaru picked up the pace, driving forcefully into her feeling his balls tighten as he too raced towards his impending release. After a few more hard thrusts Temari cried out and gripped the sheets, her second orgasm rolling over her as her cunt contracted around Shikamaru's cock, pulling a loud moan from her partner's lips.

Shikamaru clenched his teeth and willed himself to hold on, releasing Temari's hips and falling to his elbows, caging in her head. He kissed her harshly as he thrust slow and deep, biting down on her lower lip as she cried out, sensitive from her orgasm but delighting in the pleasure-pain of overstimulation. He pressed himself fully against her, chest to chest, and her nails dug into his muscular back as he buried his face in her neck, thrusts slowly increasing in speed as he desperately chased his own release. Temari dragged a hand up his back and scraped her nails across the back of his neck, called his name quietly against the shell of his ear—and that was all it took.

"Tema-ri, ah!" her name rolled brokenly off of his tongue as his hand gripped the curve of her hip. He thrust inside her once, twice more, holding her flush to him as he finally found release.

They stayed wrapped in each other for several moments, maybe even minutes, Shikamaru panting hotly into her neck as her hands slid soothingly over the planes of his back, his body still cradled between her thighs, as they came down together from their respective highs. While he was a little heavy, Temari reveled in the closeness, enjoying the feeling of smallness under his larger frame and the press of skin to skin. He finally seemed to muster the strength to move, lifting his head from her shoulder to look her in the eyes. He gently pushed her sweaty bangs from her face and kissed her gently as he pulled out.

As he moved off of her and away, Temari was surprised at how much she mourned the loss of contact. She had thought, based off of her previous experiences, that she wasn't the type to desire cuddle after sex, but as she watched him stand and dispose of the condom, she decided that like with so many other things, with him it was different.

Shikamaru stood by the bed and stretched, his back to her, and Temari admired the solid lines of his frame once again, backlit by the window. In his nudity, she could fully admire the stretch and pull of his muscles: the corded length of his arms, the solid muscles of his back, his strong legs. She could see already the red marks forming that she had left on the pale canvas of his back.

She called out to him quietly, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back in a deliberate attempt to coax him back to her side. He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled at her, a genuine smile, soft and small.

"Who would have thought you were so docile after sex, woman?" he teased, though his words lacked any real heat—he was already moving back towards her. He lifted up the blanket and lifted an eyebrow in a silent question.

Temari rolled her eyes. "I'm guessing you've entertained the thought, you idiot. And yes, you're staying. Unless you don't want to go again in the morning?"

The smile on his face slid into a exaggerated leer. "Well, if you're offering..." he trailed off, slipping into the bed and pulling her under the sheets with him. He lay on his back and she settled against his side, slipping her leg between his.

Blond head pillowed on this chest, Temari reflected on how this banter was comfortable; familiar. She would almost say it followed the rules, if their lying naked together wasn't evidence enough that they had well and truly thrown the rules to the wind. She smiled to herself. She felt his fingers come up to stroke her arm, gently, before falling to rest his hand at her waist. They lay in comfortable silence for a while, and Temari observed with sleepy interest the contrast of her tanned hand as it rested upon his pale chest. She was almost sure he had fallen asleep, as the rise and fall of his breaths were soft and slow, when she was surprised by the vibration of his chest under her cheek as he spoke.

"We haven't magically solved all our problems with sex, you know," Shikamaru said quietly. "You're still only here for a week, we still live in different villages." His voice was carefully neutral; but she could sense his seriousness.

Temari exhaled again his chest and slid her thumb along his one of his ribs. "I'm sure I can find more excuses to come here. You could, even, come to Suna." At that she heard him huff out a small laugh against her hair.

"If you really want me, you'll have to learn to love the desert," she continued. "And my brothers," she added as an afterthought. Shikamaru let out a groan at the thought of the two of them, the vibration tickling Temari's cheek.

"They're going to hate me now, you realize," Shikamaru huffed out.

Temari didn't respond for a long moment. Lying with him in the dark, pressed skin to skin, she was more content than she had been in a very long time. Even the thought of her brother's reactions couldn't dampen how she felt in this moment.

"You're the genius here," she said quietly, settling further in against him. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

FIN