A/N; The original 3 AM. XD

Characters: Hidan and Temari

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto

5 AM

Crash!

Temari opened her eyes with snap. There was a whispered curse, then a muffled clattering that steadily got louder and louder as more items fell. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes and grimacing as her head throbbed, she rolled to see the blinking time on her nightstand just inches away from her face. It took her a second to focus. 5AM.

There was another clatter.

She grit her teeth, clenching her fist before forcing herself to turn over, trying to ignore it in the vain hope that it would just stop and go away. Not today. Dear god, please not today, not when she had worked three fricking hours over time on a shift that should have ended at 1. Her throbbing head reminded her of the after affects she got from staying in that overcrowded night club longer than usual, working in a bar positioned so close to the speakers that the glasses themselves vibrated and the machines all seemed to throb with the beat. Eyes squeezing tightly shut, she tried to block out the sound, and smiled as it slowly faded away, and it was quiet, and her muscles began to relax again, and she fell into a calm… nice...

CRASH!

There was a pained yelp, then an onslaught of cursing as all pretense of sleep flew out of the window, and she leapt out of bed, throwing her arms viciously –and unnecessarily, for she was wearing her winter pajamas- through the sleeves of her soft pink silk robe, and stormed down the hall. Reaching the kitchen, she opened it with a slam, steam practically billowing out of her ears as she took in her suddenly silent 'room' mate holding up the –now empty- shelf of cooking utensils. Her eyes narrowed. Releasing the shelf, he took a step back and grinned sheepishly at her, giving her a little wave, before ducking quickly as a pan soared over his head. He put his hands up in surrender as he narrowly dodged a spatula, and then a sauce pan as she just flew across the room, brandishing the weapon wildly. Throwing his hand up, he managed to catch it just before it hit him across the head, and then tried to wrangle it from her, wincing as she attacked back furiously. Finally managing to relieve it from her grasp, he quickly moved all other throw-able objects away from her, and watched with caution and slight guilt as she collapsed to her knees on the floor and scrunched her eyes shut, swaying from exhaustion.

"I. Worked. Three. Hours. Overtime. On a night shift. I have had only one. Hour's. Sleep. Is it too much to ask that when you wake up, and make yourself breakfast, that you try not to trash the kitchen and wake me up too? I have a two hour class this afternoon that I am probably going to sleep through, or not be able to concentrate in, before another god damned night shift at that smelly, crammed night club, that I really, really hate but have to continue working in because it is the only job with flexible enough hours so that I can attend all my classes, and I know this is all my fault, and I am trying to sort this out, but holy shit, you really are not helping!" She put her hands to her head, pushing the fingertips into her temples before dragging them back through her hair, tangling her fingers and yanking weakly as she leaned back against the cabinet door, too tired to care that she was sitting on what felt like a wooden spoon. Exhaustion dragged at the edges of her consciousness, and she fought to keep awake, to get herself back up, and back to bed, at least… before she suddenly just didn't care any more, and just felt herself falling as she slid down the cabinet's smooth surface…

A hand caught her arm and she half opened one exhausted, blood shot eye as she was propped up against something solid, the hand on her arm sliding along to her shoulders as it pulled it around the mans neck, and he maneuvered himself and lifted. She frowned and grimaced, mumbling something about being able to get up herself, but the words came out indiscernible, and all she got was a chuckle as he turned them towards the door. She tried stubbornly to take some of her weight and carry herself, to prove her point, but couldn't seem to find her feet, and suddenly it was quiet, and she was so so tired, and it didn't seem to matter any more…

She was out of it by the time they reached the hall way. He grinned as he felt her relax, transferring her weight from his shoulder as he swung her up into his arms, being careful to avoid banging her bare feet into the picture frames lining the hallway that the owners of this flat had insisted should stay. Dear god, that woman was stubborn. He twisted slightly as he reached the threshold of her bedroom, easing them through the narrow door way, before stepping carefully across the room to her bed, lowering her down onto her duvet. He stepped back, surveying her for a second, before reaching down to slide her gently out of her robe, throwing it onto the chair in the corner. He reached across to tug the sheets back from the opposite side of the bed to cover her, but stopped mid reach, grinning again, as she scrunched her face in a frown and rolled until she faced the other way, grabbing hold of the blankets and hugging them too her chest. Stepping back, he trod delicately over her strewn books and shoes back to the doorway, closing the door softly.

When she woke up eight hours later, after repeatedly whacking her alarm clock, before giving up and just plain throwing it across the room -damn it, now she'd have to replace it again- she found a steaming cup of coffee on her nightstand, on a tray adjacent to a raspberry muffin. Eyebrows crinkling in confusion, she picked up the styrofoam cup and sniffed it, eyes widening in surprise as she recognized the distinct whiff of vanilla that was unique to the coffee house down the road. Scanning her bedside table once again, she saw the edge of a note peeking out from under the muffin, and swapped the coffee to her other hand before attempting to wheedle it out, managing to successfully not knock over the muffin or spill her coffee –which she had a habit of doing in the mornings- recognizing the handwriting as that of her esteemed flat mate as she read the simple phrase.

Don't kill yourself, seriously.

She narrowed her eyes at the note, smile tweaking up the corners of her mouth slightly despite herself, and took a sip of the coffee, leaning back against the headboard and closing her eyes. She opened her eyes at a soft click as her door closed –she didn't notice it was open-, and smiled as she heard a chuckle and feet pad down the hall.

A/N; I was in the mood for a sugar sweet story. XD Probably came out too sweet, and out of character, but who cares, I enjoyed writing it. :D Three Hidan stories in a row; the next one will be taking a break from him – if I can, I love this pairing – blame Katiekitten. The next one should be a PeinSaku; it is planned, and kind of started.

And I am now going to spontaneously combust. :D