A young, fit Genin flicked his fake cigarette to the ground, grumbling to himself at his inability to gain access to a Jounin only club. He leaned against the wall and felt the thump of heavy bass beats.

On the opposite side of the fuming Genin rested an idle shinobi, lazily inhaling on his real cigarette and slanting his head down to gaze at the throng of talented ninjas; inside the old warehouse, having been converted to a dance club, was no one he knew. Having newly become a Jounin, he barely recognized faces. All the senseis from his younger years were too ill and old to be at a dance club. These were all new Jounin. He assumed no one else knew anyone either, except only briefly, and yet—he noticed—they flocked together in a mob like they'd been lifelong friends. The music was giving him a headache and he was getting bored faster than usual thanks to his loneliness.

He began to remove himself from the wall that had started to share a blood line with him when a bright green eyed brunette placed a manicured hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face her.

"Shikamaru, right? I'm Yuri! I've heard about you! Shadow Ninjutsu, right?" She continued talking but Shikamaru was only eyeing around her to find the nearest exit. His eyes had to fight through the crowd, straining for a door. He almost didn't notice when he spotted familiar tresses of blonde flopping around on the dance floor.

Ino.

But she wasn't a Jounin. She was still in training. How did she get in? And what interest would he have in finding out, he asked himself, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest.

She was surrounded by men, as per usual, but none had taken ownership of her for the night by placing themselves too close. Although she was the focus in a circle of dance partners, she was dancing alone. Her brilliant blue eyes flashed across his way, and for a moment he thought she'd seen him, but she swayed her head in the opposite direction and he realized that she probably had never thought that he might be there, even if he was a Jounin. It occurred to him that she would never assume to see him at a club, or even a party. She would never see him as one of the guys drooling to dance with her: a fact he couldn't even admit to himself wasn't true.

He supposed he could admit that she was beautiful. Soft, golden locks cascading onto her delicately feminine shoulders: breasts that announced their royalty to the world, perching proudly on her chest. Her waist was shockingly narrow considering her rather stout proportions above and below it. Intensely vivid blue eyes that are combined with baby pink fleshy, plump lips could make any man melt, including Shikamaru. Even if he would never say it aloud.

He hadn't noticed Ino had grown up so much until now. He had always pictured her as a tall little girl, running about, always yelling and nagging. It's possible he refused to change his image of her. It was true she was beautiful now, but she was still a woman.

And still troublesome.

Ino clung close to Hiroshi as unfamiliar faces surrounded her. A new feeling of anxiety rumbled in her stomach. Waiting in line at the strictly Jounin only club, Ino was uneasy and her grip was fierce on her newfound boyfriend's arm. He'd gotten her a fake ID, but when they reached the entry, he flashed the bouncer his and they were home free. She flicked her eyes over her shoulder, waiting for him to realize he'd let a young shinobi into the club. She was fine around Hiroshi; he was older, but they were on the same maturity level. She wasn't all that into him, to be honest, but he was a guy—an older guy—so that definitely had some perks. Like right now, seamlessly strutting into a party illegally, no matter how nervous it made her.

Eventually she was in the middle of a group of men—grown men, which was more than enough to turn her on—swaying her hips and flipping her hair. Hiroshi had left long ago, leaving her without a ride or a friend. It was strange; guys were all around her and none of them had made a pass at her. She'd had a couple drinks by now, but she still held most of her sobriety. She tried to have sexy, hooded eyes and make contact with every man around her, maybe throwing in an extra hip rock in their direction every now and again, but every male surrounding her wouldn't cave. Could they tell she was lower rank? Of course, it shouldn't matter; she was sexy—no man could resist her, no matter how much older they were.

It had crossed her mind briefly that Shikamaru might be there, but then she remembered that the last place Shikamaru would be was at a club. For a second, her heart sunk. She had no chance of knowing anyone in this whole building. Her eyes scanned the walls of the club, just to make sure, and she thought she saw a familiar brown pony tail. Her heart jumped a little and she thought about going up to talk to him, maybe asking for a ride home, but upon investigating closer, she saw that he had his attention taken by some brunette. For some reason she couldn't place, she was angry. She could have sworn his eyes met hers before she continued dancing, trying her hardest not to think of the mesmerizing male.

It was getting late, and Shikamaru had to find Ino again. Successfully ridding himself of Yuri, his eyes strained to find that flowing blonde hair once more. He had circled the club a couple of times, but to no avail. Maybe she'd left, or maybe she was never there at all and he'd been imagining her presence. He felt a little pang in his heart at the thought that he'd missed seeing her. Although, he couldn't figure out why that bothered him; he'd see her around the Village, he knew where she lived and worked—why would it be so troubling to him if he didn't see her now? Did he really think she'd be any more willing to give him a chance in this environment?

Finally, he caught her at the bar perpendicular to the wall he'd been leaning against. She was searching the crowd. Could she be looking for him, too?

No, he cursed himself for thinking such a thing. She was probably just trying to find a boy toy for the night. He saw her back slouch in a sigh as she pushed herself off the bar and back into the dancing mob. He tried his best to keep her in his sights, but she kept going in and out of his view, like a beautiful blonde beach ball bobbing up and down in the ocean.

Ino gave up on trying to keep Shikamaru in her eyesight. It was hard to lose hope, considering every time she closed her eyes, his piercing orbs were tattooed on the inside of her eyelids.

She wasn't really paying attention as she danced, her mind recalling the intimate details of Shikamaru's face, her hips swinging aimlessly to the quick bass. That's probably why it took her a minute to notice when a firm pair of hands laid themselves on her thighs and pulled her back against a familiar body. The smell of cigarette smoke filled her nose, and before remembering that he was dead, she thought of Asuma. Her eyes curiously trailed up to her new dancing partner. Looking down on her awkwardly was Shikamaru. Her heart leaped that he was here. She sarcastically smirked at him, trying not to let him see that she was excited to be dancing with him—and so provocatively, at that. "I thought you couldn't dance." She whispered as she moved her gaze back forward. His lips grew dangerously close to her ear and she could feel his hot breath, causing her to gasp sharply. "I can't," he murmured. At the puzzling statement, Ino tried quickly to come up with a smart aleck come back, but her dizzying thoughts were interrupted as Shikamaru lightly drew his hands up the sides of her waist, causing her to lift her slender arms around the back of his neck. He leaned his head down to the crook of her neck and placed soothing, soft kisses down her delicate skin, causing her to moan a little. She had no idea that Shikamaru could be so gentle. She tried to stifle her reactions by biting her lip, and she felt him smirk on her neck. As good as this felt, it made her angry that he had this control over her. Shikamaru never took control over anything. Nevertheless, she didn't try taking over. She thought, maybe this once, she'll see what Shikamaru can do.

Every curve of their bodies molded together as they rocked to the quick melodic beats. Ino's whole world seemed to slow as Shikamaru lightly gripped the edges of her midriff top. He started to raise it when Ino sighed, "Not now."

"I'm not that stupid," he chuckled as he began to draw invisible circles on her flat stomach. He continued this for a couple of minutes as Ino carefully removed the black rubber band holding his hair in place. She absent-mindedly ran her hands through his hair. As far as they were concerned, there was no one else on earth right now. It was just them, alone together.

His large hands slid down to the rim of her purple mini skirt. He gently sent one finger under her skirt and panties, tickling a couple of blonde curly hairs, causing Ino to shiver in his arms. He let out a snicker, blowing a short breath on the nape of her neck. Ino leaned her head back onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her chest, hugging her tight.

"Please, Shikamaru." She moaned, tilting her head back.

She didn't have to ask him twice.

Lemme know of any errors!
If someone wants to take this to a lemon, be my guest. Just lemme know you did it. Lemons aren't my thing.

I imagined Fire, Fire by Fannypack playing in the club during this experience, but if you want to imagine something else, go ahead.

I'm thinking of just being a short story writer, I'm no good at anything longer than two or three shots.
This is just an idea. I have no idea what I'll do with my longer stories.