A/N: Oh...my...gosh, you guys. I can't believe it. Some of you know that I went through a heart-breaking loss of my stories-in-progress a while back. But while I was digging through the outbox of my email account this morning I found this one, in the form of an attachment to my friend. It's incredibly old, and so therefore probably a bit OOC. It was also written back when I still used a lot of western affects in my "canon universe" stories. Eighteen months ago I would never have posted it, because it's raw and ridiculous and self-serving. But today, in honor of the joy I felt when I found it and was able to read it again, I present it to the rest of you. I hope you like it. :)

A couple of quick points: Suna is presented here as the Mexico to Konoha's US, which is how I sometimes like to think of it. And, yes, it's a drunk!Shikamaru story. I can't help it; I always wanted to write one. For the purposes of this fic, I've set the drinking age at seventeen. Shikamaru is eighteen, and Temari is twenty-one.

Tequila in Suna

Temari was standing in the kitchen, rifling through the contents of the refrigerator, when she heard Kankuro calling her from the living room. There was more vigor in his voice than was usual for the first thing in the morning, which meant he had some sort of scheme up his sleeve. And Kankuro's schemes had stopped being fun back when she was about twelve years old, when he'd graduated from vomit jokes and tormenting cats and moved on to wreaking genuine havoc.

"No, Kankuro," she said, without lifting her head to look over the fridge door.

"Hey, that's not fair," he said. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I haven't had breakfast yet. My answer is always no before breakfast. You should be aware of this."

She pushed an old piece of Tupperware aside, revealing one last blueberry yogurt. Score. Now all she needed was an overlooked granola bar and she'd be all set. With two brothers in the house, she was lucky if she could find anything she didn't have to cook first.

"It'll be fun."

Kankuro's voice was now way too close; just behind the door, in fact. So she stepped back and closed the fridge, then straightened herself to look him in the eye. Adam's apple. Whatever. "I doubt it."

She turned to the sink and set about washing a spoon for herself, but her brother trailed behind. "C'mon, Nee-san," he said. "Just hear me out. Don't you want to help me devirginize Shikamaru?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said as she dried her spoon, which was her standard answer for Kankuro any time he rambled off a series of words that supposedly constituted a plan. But then the literal meaning of what he'd said hit her, and she stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Shikamaru," he said, leaning forward with an air of mystery, but speaking loudly enough to be heard by anyone in the area, "has never gone out drinking."

He was jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, and Temari looked around him to see Shikamaru sitting in a recliner in the living room, in full uniform, but lounging so disinterestedly that he looked asleep.

"What's he doing here?" she asked.

Kankuro shrugged. "Mission for Gaara tomorrow, but nothing on his agenda for today. So I've added something. We're all going out tonight."

"I like how you just casually add me to this, as if I won't notice."

"It'll be fun," he said again, grinning. "His first time, Temari. Think of it. It's a very special night in any young man's life."

Temari's mouth was full of yogurt, so she couldn't respond immediately. But she took full advantage of the silence by rolling her eyes enormously. Once she was able to swallow, she said, "you just want him to get hammered so he'll act like and idiot. What are you going to do? Take pictures and blackmail him?"

"That depends on him." Kankuro's eyebrows raised. "He's probably a really boring drunk, though. I'll bet he falls asleep at the bar."

"Then you could skip the alcohol altogether and get the same result."

"Bah."

Temari strode into the living room and jabbed Shikamaru's calf with the toe of her shoe. His eyes slowly cracked open, but he made no effort to sit up straighter in the chair.

"Don't give me that," Temari said. "I know you've been listening. What's your take on this?"

"On getting drunk?"

"On going out. Kankuro's hell-bent on it. Is it your birthday or something?"

His shoulders raised. She supposed that was his lethargic way of demonstrating uncertainty. "No. I don't know what his issue is. But drinking is pointless; that's my take on it."

Yeah, Temari had heard that one before. Only someone who'd never been thoroughly hosed could make a comment like that. It bothered her, that he should be so ignorant about something.

"You're going," she said.

He sighed. Long, drawn-out, completely disgusted with the direction his life was turning. It was if he was saying, "So it's come to this."

"You only have to do it once," she said. "Just so you'll stop spouting nonsense like 'drinking is pointless.'"

"You guys are bad influences," he said.

"Probably."

She went back into the kitchen, where Kankuro greeted her smugly. "I told you," he said. "It's annoying."

"Kind of," she admitted. "Where are you going?"

His mouth turned up, the picture of devilment. "The Cactus Moon."

"You're taking him there? It's his first time, Kankuro. We should go somewhere private, not Skank Central Station."

"We only have one shot at this. Might as well try and get him some tail out of the deal."

The picture of Shikamaru attempting to chase tail in an inebriated state did, in fact, amuse Temari. It was the juxtaposition of several totally unrelated ideas, like a beaver trying to juggle pickles. While roller skating. At a funeral.

"Okay," she said. "I'm game."

"Great," said Kankuro, rubbing his hands together. "We'll leave after dark. Good?"

"Good."

"Oh and there's one more thing," he whispered. "I lost my camera. Can I borrow yours?"

"No," she whispered back.

"Damn."

O O O

Temari didn't bother dressing up. She never did. She liked drinking just fine, for its own sake, but she was not interested in picking up the kind of guys who cruised bars, looking for uninhibited women. One of Temari's goals in life, in fact, was to avoid ever appearing to be that type of woman. And, especially, to avoid that type of man.

Shikamaru hadn't changed, either, which was normal, but Kankuro had traded t-shirt and shorts for a long-sleeved black shirt and pants. And as soon as the sun set they headed off down the street toward the Cactus Moon. The place was already hopping, the music thumping, but by some miracle Temari spotted three bar stools open next to each other. She weaved through the crowd and hopped on the stool in the middle, claiming all three, then gestured the guys over.

Once they were seated the bartender was on them like a hawk. He got to Shikamaru first, who looked out of his depth at being asked what he wanted. He hesitantly plucked a small menu from the counter, and it took Temari a second to realize he was looking at at drink menu. His eyebrows shot up as he flipped through page after page of fruity pink concoctions, and Temari took it upon herself to reach over and snatch the menu away.

"Three beers," she said to the bartender, trusting that he could read her lips well enough that she wouldn't have to shout.

A curt nod, and the beers appeared from behind the bar.

"Those drinks are for girls," Temari explained to Shikamaru, who was simply gazing at his beer. She had to lean in to be heard. "Girls who can't handle the real thing. Got it?"

His fingers wrapped around the bottle, covered in a thin layer of frost. "So, this is the real thing?"

Wow, the guy really was clueless. "This is just to get us started. When we give you the real thing, you'll know it."

He nodded, brought the bottle to his lips and took a swig. His mouth turned down unpleasantly. "This is disgusting."

"You'll get used to it. You've really never had a drink before?"

"I'm fond of my brain cells," he said. "And my mental faculties. And not puking in public."

Temari took a drink of her own beer, grateful for its chill. The bar was already too hot, and it was only going to get worse. "We'll fix that."

It didn't take long for Temari and Kankuro to work through their first beers, but a glance at Shikamaru revealed that he'd made little progress on his. Instead, he was swirling it around in the bottle absentmindedly, staring at the scene behind him in the mirror across the bar. The place was getting packed, and the skanks were moving in droves. Everything was too much skin and butt-length hair and four-inch heels and high-pitched squealing.

"I can see why you both enjoy this so much," Shikamaru said dryly.

"We don't normally come here," said Temari. "Kankuro thinks he's being funny."

But Kankuro's attention was on Shikamaru's beer. "Don't do that,"he said. "You'll make it flat and it'll taste like shit."

"It already does," said Shikamaru. "Or do you mean it gets worse?"

"Yes."

"Huzzah." He stopped swirling to take a dainty sip, and Temari was embarrassed for him. He really did look like a girl, the way he nursed that thing. Without thinking much about it, she grabbed his beer out of his hand and downed it, then put the empty bottle back on the bar with a thunk. His eyes popped open in surprise.

"Shots," she said.

"Yes," said Kankuro. "About time."

Shots. It wasn't possible to look girly with one of those. Holding it, drinking it, even choking on it; all those things were reasonably manly. But she'd have to be careful. It took a lot to get Temari drunk but a couple of shots might have Shikamaru under the table. She really didn't want to have to carry him home.

They had to wait for the bartender this time, who was busy mixing pink drinks for a gaggle of skanks. Shikamaru eyed them warily, as if worried that they might get too close, but Temari's group had gone unnoticed so far. Luckily. Eventually someone would notice she and Kankuro were here and then solitude would just be a memory.

"Get him something he can sip without looking like a jackass," said Kankuro.

"No," said Temari. "He's not going to like it, no matter what. We're going quick and dirty."

"Just don't give him anything that will make him puke."

The bartender finally headed their way, and they ordered shots of good tequila. Kankuro wasted no time knocking his back, and Temari followed suit, relishing the burn in her throat, spreading through her chest, and the light hum in the back of her head. And, again, Shikamaru was left contemplating his own shot, while Kankuro and Temari waited.

He took the small glass between two fingers, held it up, then looked over at Kankuro and Temari. Judging.

"We're fine," said Kankuro.

Shikamaru's face was dubious. "If this makes me stupid, don't let me have anymore."

"One shot is not going to make you stupid," said Temari. "Don't think so much."

"He's going to need the salt and lime," said Kankuro. His own lay untouched on the counter.

"No, he's not," said Temari. "He can do this."

"I know he can, I just want him to enjoy it."

"He'll be fine."

"What are the salt and lime for?" asked Shikamaru.

"Nothing," she said. "They're for the tourists."

"He is a tourist," said Kankuro. "Let him do it the tourist way. It'll be cool."

"You should look up 'cool' in the dictionary, little brother."

"Come on, you know you wanna see it."

"I don't know what you're-"

A hacking sound from Temari's right snatched her attention back to Shikamaru. His glass sat empty before him and he was glaring at her, tears in his eyes.

"Whoa," she said.

"Hell, yeah!" said Kankuro. "How was it?"

"Horrible," he croaked.

"But it's over already," Kankuro said.

"Lucky me."

His coughing had, unfortunately, drawn the attention of several of the skanks, who took notice of Kankuro and Temari and slinked over. Skanks liked Kankuro; they were drawn to him like moths to a flame. As hard as it was to admit it, her brother had grown quite popular with the ladies, and he probably turned down more offers than he accepted. Temari's relationship with the skanks was more complicated; women that seemed terrified or intimidated or indifferent toward Temari in public always flocked around her in the bar setting. Maybe it was just her status. There was probably something cool about being seen drinking with someone like Temari. Or maybe they acted friendly with her because she was Kankuro's sister, best friend, and drinking buddy. Or maybe they were just drunk.

At any rate, they soon found themselves surrounded by black sequins and cleavage, and the girls were taking turns giving hugs to an enthusiastic Kankuro. They didn't bother trying to hug Temari. They knew better.

"Hi, Kankuro-san! Temari-san!" said one girl, shouting over the music, her dazzlingly white teeth set off by her black hair and darkly tanned skin, her pink drink sloshing dangerously in the glass. "You guys haven't been here in forever!"

"Imagine that," Temari murmured to herself.

"We've been going to Yama's," said Kankuro. "But we brought a friend with us tonight, and we wanted to show him the best." He directed the attention of skanks toward Shikamaru, who looked up from the counter with only a hint of curiosity. "Ladies, meet Shikamaru."

Dazzle-Teeth turned her dazzle on Shikamaru, and, oddly enough, didn't falter at his lack of interest. Her eyes roved over his uniform, and she slid in next to his bar stool, in effect putting her ass in Temari's space and blocking her ability to make out the details of their conversation. Temari could hear the murmur of the girl's voice, but not Shikamaru's responses. But she could clearly see the way she flipped her long, dark hair back, or put her hands on her hips, curving one outward suggestively, and Temari even caught a glance of Teeth's painted nails trailing along Shikamaru's shoulder and down his arm.

But she wasn't surprised when the girl turned away, looking insulted, and she had to hide her smile. Nice try, Skank. It would take a lot more than one shot to get Shikamaru to give a woman the time of day. Once the space between Temari and Shikamaru was empty again, she looked over to see him rolling the glass between his hands, a pink flush on his cheeks. Was is the tequila, or embarrassment from being hit on?

The other skanks didn't seem to take the rejection of their comrade personally. If anything, they swarmed around Shikamaru with more enthusiasm, smiling and flirting and asking about being a Konoha shinobi and how many men he'd killed. Classy. A red-head slithered in and actually sat in his lap, which made Temari cackle out loud. She turned her head and pretended to be laughing at something Kankuro was saying, but Kankuro wasn't laughing; he was watching Shikamaru with distinct disapproval.

"What's he doing?" he asked, frowning. "I tossed him a bone, but he keeps throwing them right back."

Temari turned back to see the red-head leaving, humiliation all over her face. Shikamaru just looked pissed.

"When does this get fun?" Shikamaru asked, pushing away another girl before she could appropriate the seat that the red-head had just left. The rest of the skanks were starting to get the hint, and they began trickling away in groups of two or three.

"He isn't loosening up at all," Kankuro said to Temari, ignoring him. "Maybe he needs another shot."

"Probably," she said, "but after that you should give him a break. It'll catch up to him."

"Right."

Another round, which Temari participated in, with the resolution that this would be her last for a little while. She'd had enough to get a nice buzz going, and that was a level she wanted to maintain. She felt responsible for Shikamaru, and she wanted to have enough control to keep an eye on him. It took some coercion to get him involved in this round; he was obviously nervous, now that he knew what the shot would be like, so she took pity on him and showed him how to do it with the salt and the lime. Kankuro had been right; it was pretty funny to watch Shikamaru drink the tequila that way, licking the salt from his hand and drinking with his eyes screwed shut, then sucking the lime after a reminder.

She gave him a minute to see if the tequila would come out the way it had gone in, before asking, "Better?"

He nodded once.

"How do you feel?"

He looked down at his hands, then brushed away the remaining salt. "Warm."

Warm. Well, that was a start.

O O O

The next half hour passed with no actual drinking, but with amiable conversation, kept up largely by Kankuro and Temari. At first, Shikamaru gave the strong impression that he would, indeed, make a surly drinker. He sat very still, just watching the counter and giving the occasional nod or shake of his head in response to a question. But after a while he looked up, meeting Temari's gaze squarely.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Actually, yeah," he said. "I'm fine."

Kankuro laughed. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I don't know. I keep expecting to get sick."

"That comes later," Kankuro said, at the same time that Temari said, "We won't let you get that bad."

"It's hot, though," said Shikamaru.

Yes, it was. Temari was sweltering, from the combined effects of the tequila and too many bodies crammed into one establishment, of people closing in on them from behind in their effort to get to the bar.

"I think it's time to try the beer again," said Kankuro. "It's better when you're hot."

Temari allowed him to order one for her, but she took more pleasure from holding it against the side of her face than from drinking it. It felt wonderful.

She still had it pressed against her cheek when a new batch of skanks moved in, giving the usual hugs and making the usual pleasantries. A curvy one in a red dress was trying to chat up Shikamaru this time, fingers pushing back her sandy blond hair. Temari tried to remember her name. Haruka? Haruhi? Something like that. Haru-something.

"Hi," she said to him, offering her hand. Shikamaru stared at it a moment before shaking it, as if he was trying to decide how offensive he was going to be. Temari had to wonder what it was like to shake the hand of a skank; probably limp like a dead fish. Of course, shaking hands with someone from Konoha wasn't much better. It just wasn't part of their culture.

"Are you having fun?" asked the blond, and Temari smiled to herself at the prompt. Here was the moment when a more aggressive man might say, "I am now." But Shikamaru just shrugged and pushed his beer around on the counter.

"I'm not not having fun," he said.

"Double negative," she said. "Tricky."

He glanced up, mildly surprised.

"What you need is some dancing," she said. "I guarantee you'll have fun."

Suddenly, Temari felt Kankuro punch her in the shoulder. Her head jerked around to glare it him, but he pointed to Shikamaru and said, "Pass it on."

With pleasure. Temaru made a fist and landed it on Shikamaru's bicep, who did his own version of the turn-and-glare. She pointed at Kankuro, and Shikamaru leaned forward to look around her.

Kankuro jabbed a less-than-subtle finger at the blond. Dance with her, he mouthed.

Shikamaru made a noncommittal face, but the blond laughed.

"Yeah, dance with me," she said. "Give in to peer pressure."

"I think I've done my share of that tonight," he said. "But maybe later." It was clear from the look in his eyes that maybe really meant no.

Kankuro barely waited until the girl was out of earshot to say, "What is wrong with you? Girls are throwing themselves at you and you're still sitting here."

"So are you," Shikamaru pointed out.

"Of course I am," said Kankuro. "I invited you. Which means I'm stuck here until you get your lazy ass out on the dance floor."

"My ass is not lazy. It's uninterested."

"Bullshit. That chick was perfect for you. Hell, she knows words with more than two syllables."

Temari had to nod. That was a good point. Shikamaru stared at her like she was a traitor.

"Look," he said. "Am I here to drink with you guys, or am I here to waste my time with women I don't know?"

Kankuro shook his head. "The fact that you even had to ask that question means you need more booze." He slammed a fist down on the bar. "Shots!"

"I still have some be-"

"Shots! You're so damned sober I think you need twice as much alcohol in you to make a difference."

Shots arrived. Temari passed, but Shikamaru downed his with little hesitation and some semblance of skill. He didn't seem so afraid of the liquor anymore; maybe he agreed with Kankuro. Two shots hadn't done much but warm him up; let's see what will three do.

The first thing he did was actually make an effort in the conversation. That was a huge improvement. And some of the surliness was missing; even better. Kankuro was getting to the point where he really needed to hook up with a girl so she could get his attention away from the bar, or he was going to be done way too early. He'd never been that good at pacing himself.

"All I'm saying," he said, "is that this bar is full of beautiful women. And they want you. I know you pride yourself on thinking with the right head, but you have to think with the wrong one sometimes."

"Why?" asked Shikamaru. "What would be the point of finding a girlfriend in Suna? We'd never see each other."

Kankuro groaned in disbelief, then punched Temari on the shoulder again. "Can you believe this guy? Shikamaru, no one is talking about girlfriends. I'm talking about having fun. Interacting with a female in a way that doesn't include shuriken or exploding tags. And if you find the right one, she'll bring a whole new meaning to the word 'interaction.'" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Right, Nee-san?"

"Probably.".

"So, go out there," said Kankuro. "Pick one and chat her up. You have your uniform going for you, and the fact that you're new. You can't lose."

"No, thanks," said Shikamaru. "I'm not hunting down a girl."

"Fine," said Kankuro. "Don't hunt one down. But the next one that talks to you, you have to dance with her. Or do something with her besides totally blow her off. Got it?"

"I don't want-"

"I don't care," said Kankuro. "I brought you here to show you a good time. Now have a good time, damnit."

Shikamaru sighed. Kankuro seemed to take that as assent, because he went back to what was left of his beer with an accomplished look on his face.

Temari needed to pee. She slipped down from her stool, leaving her untouched shot on the bar.

"Where are you going?" asked Shikamaru. He sounded a little desperate.

"Be right back," she said.

"But-"

She wandered off, leaving him rambling.

O O O

The line for the bathroom was long, and Temari had to wait behind six girls before she got her turn. Then she headed back to the bar. It was time for that shot; hopefully Kankuro hadn't sneaked it while she was gone.

But the scene she returned to was a lot different than the one she'd left. For one thing Kankuro was gone; she caught a glimpse of him on the floor dancing with Dazzle-Teeth. And for another Temari's stool was now occupied. By the blond.

As she got closer she saw that the woman was turned on the stool a little, legs crossed toward Shikamaru, talking animatedly about something. And he was actually looking at her under heavy lids, elbows on the bar and chin propped on his hands, nodding now and then. While she watched, the blond made a gesture with her hands, like something was exploding, and she laughed. Shikamaru smiled back, said something. She laughed again.

Unbelievable. He was actually conversing with a woman, and he didn't look miserable. She was a little disappointed that the scene wasn't...funnier. It just looked like a normal chat. She definitely needed that drink.

She walked up to the bar and sat in Kankuro's old stool, then glanced in front of the blond to see that her shot glass was empty. Damn, Kankuro had gotten to it first.

"Shikamaru," she said.

He glanced around the blond's chest. "Yeah?"

"Up for another one?"

"Mind if I buy him one, Temari-san?" asked the blond.

Temari raised her hands. "Be my guest."

"Great. I want to show him how we drink tequila here in Suna."

"Actually," said Shikamaru. "Temari and Kankuro already showed me. With the salt and the lime, right?"

The blond grinned, and dropped a slow wink at Temari. "Oh, I doubt they showed you this way." Temari just chuckled to herself. Poor Shikamaru. He really had no idea what he was up against.

"Oh, okay," was his naive response.

The blond stretched up and tried to see down the bar, leaning in front of Shikamaru to do so. Temari caught his eyes straying down to her cleavage for a second, before snapping up and settling on his empty beer bottle.

"I'm going to find the bartender," she said. "Save my seat."

Shikamaru nodded. She hopped up and walked away, engulfed by the crowd within seconds. And Temari took her opportunity.

"Hey," she said, grabbing the sleeve of Shikamaru's shirt. "What is that girl's name?"

"Harumi."

"Oh, right," she said. "Harumi. That's been driving me crazy."

He smirked. "You sound weird."

"What do you mean, 'weird?'"

He shrugged, and his smirk turned into a grin. "Just...weird. 'That's been driving me crazy.' It just sounded funny. Have you had too much to drink?"

"No," she said. "I think you might be pushing it, though. Better make this next one your last for a while, okay?"

He nodded, still smiling. "You know, I don't feel like throwing up. At all."

"Good."

"But it's really hot."

"Yep."

Harumi returned, hopping up onto the stool and crossing her legs again. The bartender followed not too far behind and placed two shots in front of her. Temari stopped him before he could get away.

"I'll take one of those."

Harumi shook her hair behind her shoulders and took her shot in one hand. "Okay," she said. "Show me how you set it up."

Shikamaru licked his hand and shook some salt out on it and held it out for her to see, but before he could react she grabbed it and brought it up to her lips. His eyes widened, then practically fell out of his head when she licked off the salt, starting near his thumb and slowly dragging her tongue all the way up his index finger before pulling away. He continued to gape at her as she took her shot and finished with the lime, his hand still wrapped in hers.

"Did they show you that one?"

He shook his head, mouth still hanging open.

"Want to try it?"

"Uh..."

Temari snorted. It was finally getting funny.

"Come on," said Harumi. "Give it a try. I don't bite."

He didn't say anything, but he disentangled his hand from hers and faced forward. Which might have been interpreted as a brush-off, except that Temari could see that his eyes were still wide, and he was breathing a lot harder than normal.

And Harumi was a persistent bitch. She went right ahead and readied her hand with the salt, then turned him toward her on his stool so that they were knee-to-knee. From this angle Temari couldn't tell if she was talking to him, or what her face looked like, but she could see that Shikamaru was staring at her as if entranced, chest still heaving. After a moment his eyes narrowed, and without dropping his gaze from Harumi's face his lifted her hand to his mouth. He wasn't as demonstrative as Harumi had been, but he kept his tongue on her skin a little longer than necessary, then languorously drank the shot, and Harumi held the lime between two fingers for him to suck. He got a lot more than just the lime.

Damn it; this wasn't humorous at all. Shikamaru looked way too much like he knew what he was doing. He was just too chill of a guy to go really crazy and make a fool of himself; at most, the tequila was making him more successfully chill. Where was the fun in that?

Temari watched Harumi place a hand on Shikamaru's thigh and lean forward. She said something, he nodded, and before Temari knew it Harumi was leading him away.

And...there he goes. Four shots and a beer, and some woman convinces him to dance with her. That seemed like a lot of liquor, but it was pretty likely that he was at his limit. Shikamaru would probably have to get almost totally drunk to interact with a girl.

"Hey, where'd Shikamaru go?" Kankuro appeared, one arm wrapped around Dazzle-Teeth, his face beet-red. "Did he cut out already?"

"No, he's actually dancing."

"Are you kidding?"

"Hard to believe, I know."

"With a girl?"

Temari shuddered at the image of Shikamaru dancing by himself. "God, I hope so."

"Awesome. Now all we have to do is find a guy for you..."

"Kankuro."

"Yeah?"

"Beat it."

He grinned. "Come on, Temari. Drunkenness and frigidity were never meant to co-exist."

"You don't understand," she said. "I need to be drunk so that I can be as uninhibitedly frigid as I please. And I'm not there, yet."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, before leading Dazzle back onto the floor. He never argued with her anymore; he had to know by now that trying to force a man onto Temari was pointless.

O O O

Temari drank alone for quite a while, and she was comfortable with that. Now and then she'd glance around the floor to see if she could catch a glimpse of Shikamaru or Kankuro, but no such luck. That was fine; as long as they didn't get near the bar again, they were probably safe.

A little while later, Shikamaru appeared beside her. He had a pink tint to his cheeks and he was smirking, his hand clasped around the wrist of a female. Temari looked back, expecting to see Harumi.

It wasn't Harumi.

It was a new girl, every bit as blond and curvy, but a lot less appealing, in Temari's opinion. She had the same ditzy expression that every other woman in this bar was wearing, only three IQ points higher than the stool Temari was sitting on.

Shikamaru leaned all the way over the bar and grabbed the shirt of the bartender as he passed. When the bartender caught his eye, Shikamaru held up two fingers.

Temari tried to catch his arm and pull it back down, but two shots had already arrived, as if by magic.

"Shikamaru," she said, "you need to hold off. Just for a little while."

He made a thoughtful face, then shook his head. "I think I'm fine. I feel pretty good." He pulled the new blond by the wrist and put an arm around her waist, then leaned forward and put his mouth right against her ear. He grinned and said something; she giggled.

"Of course you think you're fine," Temari said. "Where's Harumi?"

Shikamaru leaned back and stared at the blond's face, puzzled. "This isn't Harumi?"

"Uh...no..."

"Oh," he said, shrugging. "Then I don't know."

The stool immediately next to Temari was still vacant; Shikamaru sat on it backwards and pulled the blond onto his lap. He put fingers on her cheek and turned her face toward him.

"It's okay if you're not Harumi," he told her. "I don't hold that against you. Want me to show you how we drink tequila in Suna?"

Okay, now that was funny.

Shikamaru had apparently picked up a few new tricks, or maybe he'd just come up with one on the fly. Instead of putting the salt on the blond's hand, he tapped the shaker over the sweat-glistened skin of her chest. Then he leaned forward and licked along her cleavage, all the way from the edge of her dress to her collarbone. He downed the shot while she laughed outrageously.

"I don't think I can do it that way," she said. "You're a guy."

He gave her a lecherous grin. "What we need is another girl," he said. Then he grabbed shot, salt and lime in one hand, and pulled her into the crowd with the other.

Temari sat there for a moment, stunned. Had he actually licked a woman's boob? It's not like she hadn't seen that one before, but this was Shikamaru we were talking about. Where was the misogynistic lazy-ass that she knew and tolerated? Well, okay, licking salt off a random woman's breast could be classified as a form of misogyny, but still.

Things were definitely getting interesting. No way was she going to be able to sit here, knowing that Shikamaru was on the dance floor doing stuff that she'd be able to tease him for for decades. She was beginning to regret not bringing the camera.

She ordered a beer, feeling like an idiot. More beer on top of the tequila would just give her a righteous hangover tomorrow. But she needed something cold to drink if she was going to venture into that writhing mass of sweaty human beings.

Beer in hand, she made her way into the crowd. She wandered through, crammed between couples and singles dancing, pushed here and there. It should have been easy to find him; he was one of the taller guys here. But she soon realized her mistake. She'd been looking for his characteristic hair, when she should have been looking for a Konoha shinobi surrounded by an absolute horde of curvy, blond bimbos. He certainly had a type, didn't he?

He was dancing with two of them at once, if you could call it dancing. It was more like he was holding them both too close to his body while they slithered and bumped against him. Neither was Harumi, nor the blond with the salty breasts. But one of the girls had her mouth against his neck, and that's when Temari realized that his face was covered in blotches of red and pink lipstick.

What do you know. Don Juan Nara.

Temari kept her distance; she was only here to observe. But the minute the song ended, Shikamaru opened his eyes and they fell on her. He slipped away from the two girls to their very vocal displeasure and made his way over to where she was standing.

"Temari," he said. "I have something to show you."

"It's not how you drink tequila in Suna, is it?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "No, you showed me that."

"No, I didn't," she said. "That was Haru-"

But his hand clamped around her arm, and he removed the beer she was holding. Before she could stop him he handed it to one of the blonds and began pulling Temari away.

"Hey!" she said. "That was my beer!"

"I'll get you another one!"

He pulled her through the thick of the crowd, then across the floor to the other side of the bar. Her arm was still in his grip when they emerged, and he led her down the hallway where the bathrooms were.

They didn't reach the bathrooms, though. He opened an unmarked door and pushed her inside, then followed her in and closed the door.

The music was suddenly a lot quieter, and it was pitch black. She instinctively fumbled for the light switch beside the door, found it and flipped it on, but there was only one low-watt incandescent light bulb on the ceiling and it cast an eerie glow around the tiny closet they were in. They were surrounded by cleaning supplies; the floor was tile with a drain, and a faucet stuck out of the wall, aimed right at the floor.

He watched her with eyebrows raised, as if expecting her to be impressed.

"It's a mop closet," she said.

He grinned and stepped toward her, breathing heavily. "It's a make-out closet."

"What?" she asked. "That's ridiculous."

His eyebrows furrowed. "The other girls didn't think so."

"Other girls? Have you been making out with random skanks in a mop closet?" She already knew the answer, of course; it was smeared all over his face in shades of red.

"Yep," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "You didn't let any of them take your flower, did you?"

"My...flower?" he asked, confused. Then comprehension registered on his face and his fingers settled near the button of his pants. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly.

"I don't think so," he said.

"Good. You can still be sacrificed to the volcano gods." She reached for the handle of the door. "Thank you very much for showing me your make-out hole. I'm ready for that beer you owe me."

But he stopped her hand before she could open the door, then stepped toward her again, pushing her against the wall. His face was flushed and she could smell the alcohol on his breath, mostly because his mouth was only a couple of inches away.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Let me go."

"Can't," he said. "You're not allowed to leave the make-out closet until you make out in it."

"What? That's..." She struggled to get out from behind him but there was no where to go; walls blocked her on both sides. "That's stupid, Shikamaru. Whose dumb rule is that?"

"I made it up. Just now."

"I'm not going to make out with you. Give me a mop; I'll make out with that."

He laughed. "I'm a much better kisser than a mop."

"I don't doubt that. After all that practice you had with your blond girlfriends."

"Mm." His hand came up to her hair; she felt him pull out one of her hair ties.

"What are you doing?" she asked again. "Stop that!"

He reached for another, then leaned in and brushed lips against hers. She tried to twist her head away but he was still holding her hair and she didn't go anywhere.

"I like it loose," he murmured, pulling out the tie.

"Well, I don't," she said. "Now back the hell off."

He shook his head, rubbing the end of his nose against hers. "As your friend, I can't allow you to break the cardinal rules of the make-out closet. One, your hair must be loose." He pulled out the third tie. "Two, once you enter, you are obligated to make out before you can leave. Three, making out with an inanimate object does not apply toward the aforementioned making-out requirements."

He took out the last hair tie, then brought both hands to her head and buried his fingers in her hair. He brushed his lips over hers again. "Much better."

Temari put her hands to his chest and pushed, but he didn't budge. So she tried to turn her face away.

"Shikam...wait...sto-"

But he kept her head firmly caught between his hands and covered her mouth with his, cutting off her arguments. His kissed were wet and clumsy, the smell of booze almost overwhelming as she tried ineffectively to shove him away. He leaned all of his weight against her, spreading his feet apart a little so that he lined up with her more evenly. Or maybe to keep from falling over. He prodded at her lips with his tongue, but when he didn't get anywhere he pulled back, giving her a disgruntled look.

"Rule Four," he said. "It's not making out unless you kiss me back."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. She didn't really feel threatened by him; she was confident that if he got too out of line she could paste him to the wall, especially considering that he was quite a bit more inebriated than she. She was just...hesitant. She'd just never considered that his drunken tail-chasing would put her tail in danger.

"You're smashed," she said.

"Maybe," he said. "Wasn't that the goal?"

"Well, yeah..."

"You need to loosen up," he said. "Want another drink?"

"I had another drink."

His eyes fell to her cleavage and he smirked. "We need tequila. And salt."

"Forget it," she said. "The last thing you need is more liquor."

"You're probably right," he said. "I can liquor without the salt."

"Huh?" she asked, but his hands slipped down behind her back and he bent over, almost reaching her boobs before she caught onto what he was going to do and grabbed his face, pushing him away.

"No," she said.

He looked disappointed. "No?"

"No. This is the make-out closet, right? Not the second-base closet. All you're allowed to do in here is kiss. That's it."

He considered that, eyes beady as if he thought she was trying to trick him. But he finally nodded. "Okay," he said seriously. "Let's kiss."

Then his mouth was mashed against hers again, and all she could really do was just chuckle to herself and hang on. It was too ridiculous to take seriously, and the truth was, she didn't even mind that much. He had nice lips, and he smelled good, despite the alcohol. And it was good to have a warm, male body so close to hers. Hell, she was a little smashed, too, and he was fairly attractive, and the odds were he wouldn't remember any of this, anyway. Might as well enjoy it.

"Promise me you'll forget all about this tomorrow," she said.

"Promise."

Of course he did.

But she put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He mumbled in appreciation and flicked his tongue against her lips impatiently, so she gave him what he wanted, parting her lips for him. She was already warm, from the tequila and the close quarters of the closet, but the feeling of his tongue against hers made waves of heat course through her body and sweat break out on her face and chest.

And his hands wandered as he kissed her; she had to keep redirecting them when they ventured too close to her chest. But she found that it didn't bother her to let him grab her butt and hold her against him. Didn't bother her at all.

"Temari..." His lips traveled to her ear; she felt teeth on her earlobe. He spoke in voice that was clearly intended to be a whisper. "You're hot."

She let him work on her ear, then her neck, before answering. "That's because it's a hundred and ten degrees in here."

"I don't think that's why," he said, lips on her throat. Shivers traveled from her neck down to her stomach. "I think it's the other way around. It's hot in here because you're hot. You're doing it."

She probably would have laughed at his reasoning if it hadn't been for the fact that she'd been thinking the same thing about him.

"You know," he said, "there's another rule for the make-out closet."

"Mm? What's that?"

"Rule Five: the make-out closet can be reclassified as a sex closet at the discretion of the president. That's me."

At this, Temari unequivocally put her foot down.

O O O

"Holy god."

That was Kankuro.

"This is such a pain in the ass."

That was Shikamaru.

"Both of you shut the hell up before I dig two holes and bury you in them."

That was Temari. God, a kunai in the temple was preferable this: the tequila hangover. Light hurt. Sound hurt. The feeling of Shikamaru shifting on the other end of the couch made her want to puke. Hopefully the eight or fifteen aspirin she'd eaten would help, if she could just hold out until they'd taken effect.

Kankuro lay flat on the floor, his t-shirt pulled up over his face.

"I hope I banged that chick."

"I'm sure you did, little brother."

"What about you, Nara? Get any ass out of the deal?"

"I don't remember any ass. I remember an eagle's view of the toilet bowl, and making out with your sister."

Kankuro sat up straight and tore his shirt down. "What?"

"Ow," Temari and Shikamaru said in unison. His voice pierced into the brain like a red-hot poker.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten that," she said.

Shikamaru turned his head slowly to look at her; he was barely peering out from under his eyelids. "I don't forget stuff."

"Not even when you're drunk?"

"Apparently not."

Kankuro lay back down on the floor and silence dragged out for a few minutes, broken only by the occasional sniffle or squeak of the couch. Kankuro was the first to speak again.

"I can't believe you kissed him," he said. "That's not what I was going for."

"I had to," Temari said, musing. "It was Rule Two of the make-out closet."

He snorted. "There's no make-out closet. There's a sex closet..."

"I knew it," said Shikamaru.

"It was demoted for virginal types," said Temari.

Kankuro groaned. "You guys made out in the sex closet? How am I going to get that image out of my brain?"

"Tequila?"

"Ha-ha." He pulled his shirt over his face again, then pointed to Temari. "You know she's a crone, right?"

"I'm only a year older than you, Kankuro."

"Yeah, but in girl years that's, like, seven."

"Don't make me kill you when this aspirin kicks in."

There was another long silence, during which Shikamaru shifted so that his head was on the arm of the couch. Then, out of the blue, he made a declaration.

"Older women are better kissers."

Temari would have laughed if she could have. "Is that what you learned last night?"

"Mm."

"How many girls did you make out with?"

He held a fist in front of his face, then stuck out his thumb. Then his index finger. Counting.

"Five, including you."

"See?" said Kankuro. "Aren't you glad we made you go?"

"I guess. Couldn't help but notice that I'm the only one with a mission today."

"Sorry, man."

"Want to go again tonight?" asked Temari.

He glanced at her, side-long. "Think we'll end up in the make-out closet again?"

She felt a smirk tug at her lips. "Maybe."

"Then we might as well stay here and make out on the couch," said Shikamaru.

"Aw, you don't want any more liquor?"

"I didn't say that. I just don't want to have to go through all those girls again to get to you." He turned enough to look her in the eye; there was a hint of mischief there. "And I still have to show you how they drink tequila in Suna."

The End