This is based of a KakuSaku fic I read last night, only this one with ShikaTema, though it is pretty much the same idea.

Also, this was a spur of the moment morning thing I did today, so when I reread the thing at some point and decide I hate it, which often happens, I may delete it, in which case, ask if you want to reread it.

Like I said this is seriously un-edited besides a brief spellcheck, so I'm promising that there are mistakes. get over it.

But either way- review people review! (did i tell you i did this new thing where i swore to read every fic i read whether i like it or not? let's all do this!)

Oh, and the original story was about firsts, so in that format, it is a series of 'firsts'.

Frustrations

The first time she saw him was the morning he arrived. She had been expecting to see him as soon as she heard that some of the Konoha ANBU were coming to observe the training camps on the edge of Wind Country. It was unlikely he would be in the relatively small group of thirty coming out of hundreds, thousands even, of Fire Country ANBU that were candidates. But then, there he was, facing the leader of his team with a lazy expression as assignments were handed out.

It'd been almost three years since she'd seen him, but it didn't seem much had changed. He still looked the same, taller maybe, and there even seemed to be a fair amount of sinewy muscle in his arm that he hadn't had before. But apart from that, he looked exactly the same.

She watched him for a bit, watched the foreign group as they began to move about her camp. They were probably mostly from the Leaf, but she didn't recognize anyone. And no one did her, as she was passed by more than a few young men nodding their heads in greeting.

There were two women in the group, which made her feel better. She was sick and frustrated of being surrounded by the constant testosterone of males.

She kept her position in front of her cabin, eyes searching for him among the spreading crowd. By the time she spotted him, he was on the other side of camp, speaking to one of his team as they entered a cabin. However, he turned before the door shut, spotted her, and gave a nod, a small smile on his face.

She just stared, and then, with one final sweep of all the people she would be living and training beside for the next six months, Temari turned around and entered her cabin.

When he first saw her, she was exiting a wooden cabin, stretching her arms over her head and looking out at morning sky.

He smiled to himself, watching her greet the day. I'd been three years, but she didn't seem to have changed a bit.

He hadn't known she was going to be here. When someone said that the camp would mostly house new recruits, he'd pictured young men his age. She'd been with ANBU long before he had. She had no reason to be training still.

But he was glad to see her, nonetheless.

When he spoke to her for the first time since she'd left her ambassador position three years before, it was because she had neglected speaking to him, and by prolonging it, it made the inevitable initiation of contact all the more awkward.

So, he spoke to her because he had to.

"Temari," he said, approaching her after lunch a few days after he'd arrived. "Hey."

She looked over at him, "Shikamaru," she acknowledged with a nod.

"I didn't realize you'd be here."

"It was a new training camp," she said in way of explanation, "they needed someone with experience."

He nodded, coming up to stand beside her as she observed two men training. "Does this mean you aren't being trained at the camp?" He asked after a moment of watching.

She shook her head, "I underwent my training two years ago. But I will be training you."

His lips formed a small smirk before he continued, "how long have you been here?"

"A year last month."

That news surprised him, "with only men?"

She nodded.

"Hm," he said, imagining being in her position. It sounded difficult, he figured, being surrounded by nothing but men for a whole year. "So," he said after a few minutes. "How have you been?"

She turned to him, "I've been good. The training wa-" but she was interrupted, mumbling something about having to go work when the match she as observing began to get out of hand.

The first time he realized that she was a woman was when he sat beside her at dinner.

It had been a slightly awkward dinner, they were both adults now and they didn't get along in the same easy manner they had as children. It was different now, she was aware of her actions, her mannerisms. He was less likely to banter with her, attempting to not irritate a training officer within his first week of being a new recruit.

Things were deliberate and slow, but he knew they could have probably ridden it out, overcoming whatever blockade held them apart. But neither of them had the will, they were both busy in separate lives.

But he did see the way she twirled her hair, the way she rested her cheek in her hand- he saw the way she had grown up. He saw the ways she had changed.

The first time she realized he was a man, was when he caught her eye while in a match.

Before this, she had watched him every now and then, usually when they were in the same area, which only seemed to be during meals. And he was always speaking to his friends, a girl and a boy, per usual it seemed, so she didn't go interrupt. But she did watch, occasionally. Enough to know that he was late to breakfast but always early to dinner. But apart from that, the moments she was in enough proximity and actually patient (or bored) enough to pay attention to him were sporadical at best.

For the most part, she had other things that garnered her attention.

But the first time she ever saw him fight at the camp, she had spared almost an hour of her schedule to just… watch.

His jutsu was unusual, and word had passed to her of his skill within the first few days, but she had already seen him fight. She had fought with him too many times to count. And so it was almost two months after his arrival that she took her time to stop as she passed by the training field he was in.

It was now that she noticed his change since she had last been in Konoha. She noticed how his body moved as he controlled the will of another being in his palms. The grace he had in his movements, holding the physical power of his opponent so majestically- she had been mesmerized.

She had had no other option but to stare.

The way he lean arms moved, lines of his muscles stretching and shrinking beneath the pale surface of his skin. The tattoo that she had found attractive on some men, but had yet to notice it on him, was now transfixing, pulling her attention away from his fight to focus on a bit of ink stitched into his body.

And the way the Fire Country's ANBU uniform fit him like a glove, moving to his whim.

The shadows he produced, winding and racing along the floor, the trunks- whatever surface was available.

And his concentration was different too. Harder. He wasn't bored nor lazy, only determined and steadfast. He could get like that during fights, she remembered, but never during training sessions.

With one last shaky and uncomfortable breath, Temari moved on from the field, back to her work, noting that she had missed something in him. Something she wished she had seen before.

Because Shikamaru, he was a man, and she had never noticed.

The first time he noticed her frustration, was around the end of his first two months at camp, when one night,, his friend Ikuyo sat down at their table and announced that she was horny.

Hideki had looked up from his soup, gaping.

Shikamaru on the other hand, didn't really care. "There are sixty men here at your will, I don't think satisfaction is a problem you need to worry about."

Ikuyo just glared, "you have no clue about women, do you?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "I just don't understand why it's an issue."

"It's a matter of respect," Ikuyo shot back, "you couldn't have a one night stand here. If it meant nothing, other men would be jealous, and that would create rifs. You have to choose right, and that's a very hard thing to do."

"Why not? If the women are as sexually frustrated as the men, which I'd imagine they are, then a one night tryst would be nice. For the girls, especially, because they could have as many as they want."

Hideki had finally gathered himself enough to join in, "that's degrading."

"It is." Ikuyo agreed.

"That's probably why Temari-senpai is so tempered." Hideki noted more to himself than aloud- she was his training captain.

"Ha, no," Shikamaru chuckled, "she's always been like that."

But a few nights later, when he caught her and another boy in one of the training fields, he realized that Ikuyo was probably right: Temari was in the same boat -though he could imagine hers was relatively deeper- as the rest of them.

He saw that it wasn't enough: when the boy brought his lips to hers, soft and gentle. The boy was slow, and she was gripping his vest, trying to pull him deeper, but he was being too chauvinistic. His lips looked paced against hers, and she was groaning in dissatisfaction, beginning to claw at the collar of his vest.

And he knew, he could tell, that she needed something more. She needed something that this man wasn't giving her. She probably realized it too, he figured, but was too stubborn to do anything about it. What had she said to him all those years ago: "No emotions should be connected to sex. It should be a past time, not something that is the base for any actions or consequences,"? Something like that?

She pulled away from the boy.

"What's wrong?"

She just shook her head, "never mind, I don't think this is right."

He knew, he could walk over there, grab her shoulders and kiss her like she wanted to be kissed.

But he didn't, refusing to let his frustrations get to him like they seemed to be getting to her. Though, the thought passed his mind a little too often over the next few days.

The first time Temari realized she was protective, was when Shikamaru became occupied.

The other female at the camp, Temari noticed one day during lunch, had a crush on Shikamaru. Whenever Temari watched him these days, the girl was always sitting down at the end of the table he normally shared with his friends. And then, about half way through their meal, the brunette would sidle up to him, there with the pretense of speaking to his blonde female friend. But she would always sit beside him, pressing her thigh into his.

The first time Temari saw it, she laughed.

Then she became annoyed, relationships weren't supposed to happen at the camp. Nothing as small minded as sex was supposed to break the concentration of training.

And then, a day or two after she had started coming to the table, Shikamaru began responding. He would lean over and whisper in her ear, make her giggle as they spoke over lunch.

Temari couldn't remember the last time a man had whispered in her ear, and she strained to hear what they were talking about knowing full well that the noise would never travel all the way to her table.

Nevertheless, she wondered... and she worried.

Until one day, she didn't show up at their table, and not the next day either. And eventually, Temari saw the girl speaking to another boy on the other side of the rec hall.

And this, she refused to openly admit, made her very, very happy.

The first time he realized he was attracted to her, she had been lying out on a stone floor reading a book.

At the time, he was wondering, briefly, how Temari had made it a year. He had gone ten weeks now, and it was too long. The frustration was growing on him steadily. Manageable for now, but the future looked relatively bleak.

It was the during the second snow of the season, when the heated baths were opened to the camp. She was on the edge of the stone floor, knees bent and calves hanging into the water below, her black tank top dry, but the majority of her tied black hakama pants very, well, wet. And he noticed.

He was sure the men noticed it as well: how her legs curved gently, tanned skin peppered with droplets of steamy water. And above, where her shirt covered her torso loosely, the bra she had forwent doing everything to help her cause. He figured the uniform vests were tight enough to give the right support, but now, he was wishing she had brought one anyway.

He must have stared at her the whole night, watching as she laid on the edge of the floor, her legs over the side of the pool of water, a book in her hand.

He also knew he wasn't the only one. After all, Ikuyo was right beside him in her shirt and skirt, and had gotten more than enough male attention.

But unlike Ikuyo, who got irritated and left within an hour, Temari didn't seem to notice the ogling, though he knew better. But she only laid out with her book, caught in her own world.

And that was when he realized, as her chest lifted up and down with her slow breaths, that he was attracted to her.

Suddenly this manageable period of his sexual frustrations seemed very slim.

The first time Temari began to look at Shikamaru sexually, was also the first night they spoke more than five sentences to one another in almost a week. And certainly the first time they ever spoke about something other than training.

She had come to the rec hall looking to see what the camp had been buzzing about the past few days. There was dancing, alcohol, music- things she hadn't been witness to in a couple of months, at least.

Temari didn't drink though, not here, not when she was supposed to be in charge. And she didn't dance, anywhere. But she could listen to the music, observe her comrades as they enjoyed themselves freely for the first time in four months.

And so, when she walked in amid the chaos of a party and Shikamaru was the only person she saw casually observing his liquor while sitting on a bench by the entrance, he was the first person she went to.

Sitting down beside him, Temari followed his gaze to where his two friends were dancing, jumping wildly to the music.

"Enjoying yourself?" She asked.

He glanced at her, as if only now realizing she was beside him. He nodded, managing a 'hello', before turning away and looking at his friends again.

She had seen his looks recently, the prolonged, heavily-implied ones with a meaning she had yet to decipher. But now, he wasn't looking at her. He was, if anything ignoring her. And he seemed irritated, frustrated about something. Shrugging it off, Temari bated her time patiently before one of her friends showed up and swept her up in conversation.

The night was frosty out, the rec hall cool but relatively groggy with all the sweat of the people and the mismatched heating of the room. But Temari didn't mind. She spoke to her friend, laughing and sighing all the same. It wasn't until, at one point, she shifted, swinging her knees apart in an effort to shift her blood flow so her feet wouldn't fall asleep, that her outer thigh bumped Shikamaru's. Quickly pulling it back, she turned away, hoping he wouldn't notice the heating of her cheeks.

She wasn't training herself anymore, and any physical contact, especially when it was so direct, made her anxious.

But not a moment later, his leg followed hers, pressing his thigh into hers, harder this time. He mumbled a, "sorry", but nevertheless, he kept his thigh against her. Both comfortable and uneasy, Temari tried to ignore the feeling of him, but she too did not move away.

The night drew on, and she continued with her friend, not speaking to Shikamaru but being acutely aware of the heat from his body. She wondered if he knew what he was doing, just languidly pressing against her. He didn't seem to, not giving any indication either way. And when he stood up to leave, he moved away from her with ease, as if he had never noticed they were touching at all.

She watched him exit the building, the sharp gust of frigid air hitting her cheeks.

"Shikamaru." She said, following him out into the night. Snow littered the ground, and she could feel it turning to water by her feet the longer she stood there, but she didn't move. She didn't know what she was going to say, but she had to say something.

He was only a few feet away from her, turning his back to glance at whom was addressing him. But then he began walking again. "I'm going to go to sleep."

She jogged to catch up with him. "Wait."

He stopped, "what's the matter?"

She looked at him, eyes meeting eyes for the first time in months. They were silent for almost a whole minute as he stared at her with a dark, knowing, and somewhat angry look. Suddenly anxious, Temari pulled her gaze away. "Nothing. Nevermind."

"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" He asked, knowing full well that there was.

She was about to shake her head, when the aching feeling in her body changed her mind. "Want to fight."

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "If that's all you want me to do."

She stopped, lips slightly parted.

How did he know?

But then she shook it off. She was misinterpreting his words. He couldn't know- not about that.

She turned around, leading the way through the snow covered grounds. He followed her, weaving through a line of cabins before they came upon the edge of the clearing before the forest hit. They were behind the row of cabins now, obstructed from view. The snow was fresh here, their feet falling a few inches each time they took a step. Circling one another, Shikamaru waited for Temari to make the first move- she was always the impatient one.

But then she waited, and so, Shikamaru threw first, testing her with a left.

She moved aside, angling him with a few throws before retreating a few feet. He came back, dodging her blows and missing his hits.

She got his arm a few times, he hit her side, twice. She kicked him in the face when his defense was down, knocking him back, closer to camp. He swung a half-attempted fist at her.

She dodged it easily, coming back at him with a series of punches aimed at his middle, forcing him to move back into the back wall of a cabin. Trapped, she threw her planned blow to his stomach.

But he was waiting for it, flexing his abdominals while whispering the words under his breath.

He faltered a bit when her fist made contact. Too much energy had been put in that one punch. But he had completed the hand signs and now she was the one who was trapped, bound to the ground by a collection of shadow-ropes. With one final movement on his part, she was pulled down to the cold, wet ground. Hitting with a thud, the breath flew from her lungs and she began coughing.

Letting the bindings drop, Shikamaru offered her a hand.

When she regained enough breath, she looked up at him. "That was too short," she said. "It didn't satisfy anything." She took his hand, pulling herself to standing.

She looked so determined, so serious, so defiant as she convinced herself that a fight, a longer, perhaps more physical, fight was just what she needed to get out of this day-to-day frustration.

He saw the looks in her eyes, the legitimacy and pent up fire. He only blinked, being perfectly honest, "we both know that's not why."

She narrowed her eyes, "what's that supposed to mean."

Shikamaru moved around her, saying it as if it were the most obvious thing. "You're looking for something else."

"Looking for what," she snapped, hair half out of her ponytail and cheeks red with exertion and embarrassment.

It was that, the adrenaline, and the slight buzz of alcohol that made him take her. Grabbing the straps of her vest and lifting her harshly, Shikamaru pushed Temari back into the wall of the cabin hard enough to bruise. "Wha-" she managed, mouth wide, before the look in his eyes made her shut up.

And then, he pushed his lips to hers, hard.

But she wasn't complaining.

After the initial shock wore off, she was gnawing on him, hands in his hair, around his neck. She tried to wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him between her legs.

She was kissing him as though she had never been kissed before, and he was reciprocating with equal ferocity. Pushing himself into her, groaning, hands bruising her hips.

But then, as quickly as it began, he pulled away, taking a step back as her legs landed her in a shaky standing on the ground.

"As I was saying," he began pausing at the annoyed and hungry light in her eyes, "a fight isn't what you need."

The first time she realized she might be attracted to Shikamaru, she was thinking about the kiss, pure and simple. She couldn't help thinking about the kiss.

At first, she atoned it to plain, spur-of-the-moment things. But she knew it wasn't. He knew. He knew it was something she had been craving, aching for.

How had he known?

And her hormones were crashing on her harder than they had before, she was frustrated and anxious, and tempered, bearing something she needed desperately to rid of. And from him no less, she realized days later. It was something she needed from someone, something she wanted from him. They weren't nearly as close as they had been years ago, but he was a man now, and it didn't matter how close you were- you just as easily be attracted to someone.

And she was attracted. She was hot, bothered, and breathless around him.

She went to more of his training sessions, watching as he maneuvered around his opponents. Winning every time.

She watched as he ate, with those two same friends, acting as he always did.

She watched him this way for a month, reciprocating these long glances, only trying harder to do it where she wouldn't be caught, whereas he didn't really seem to care either way.

But he saw her, and she knew it, and it began a tingly feeling from her gut to her groin every time she was caught.

And that was when she realized that she was attracted to Shikamaru.

The snow was beginning to lessen, clear nights and visible stars the night he first realized that he might have feelings for her.

It didn't take long at all after that kiss to notice it.

For him, the kiss had been equally as hungry and desperate as it was for her. Then, it had just been about sex. The craving, the need, the frustration building up into one moment where he needed to fuck her hard.

He would have too. Up, against the cabin. Scratching and moaning, pushing into her like a starving man, stealing from her what he wanted most.

But he hadn't. Because right before he ended it, he realized that wasn't what he wanted. A good (great) hard fuck was not what he wanted from her.

This kiss had given much more than it had taken, and he realized that, whatever was to happen between them, it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted sex. He wanted her.

He would have to wait until they were on equal territory. Because here, emotions ran too high for any screw-ups.

The first time she realized that her resolve for no sex was wearing dangerously thin, was when the fistfight broke out during her day off. She had seen the large mass of men, in a tight circle, cheering as two of them men went to blows, most likely to only let off some steam. She knew the feeling. And she could appreciate where it was coming from.

But, unfortunately, as part of her duty, she had to break it up.

She pushed through the swarm of bodies knocking men aside to get to the center of the circle. But she didn't make her presence clear enough before descending into the mock-ring. And she was hit, hard in the jaw.

She could have defended herself and she would have too. But Shikamaru was quicker, standing in the front row of the crowd, he had thrown himself into the match, beating anyone in his way although the man who had initially hurt Temari was trying to apologize. But Shikamaru kept coming, receiving and giving hits back and forth between the sweaty men. And then she realized, standing on the outside of the crowd, too shocked to try to break it up again, that Shikamaru had been defending her.

The first time he realized that he might be in love, was one of the days he regretted the most.

"Now is not a good time," he said, as if he knew she was the one at the door.

"Shikamaru," she said calmly, "let me in."

"I said: go away." His voice was harsh, cruel.

She knew what state he was in, winning the fight with too many consequences. She had seen the injuries, the anger. It was against someone he hadn't wanted to fight. And it wasn't training, anymore. There was a month before the new recruits came, before him and his group left. They were taking the final tests, and his opponent, Ikuyo was her name, was injured. Badly. And it was his fault.

She had watched him kneel on the floor, see the beautiful ninja as she was carried off to the infirmary, and then storm off the field, heading straight for his cabin.

He had hurt the girl, torn her body apart. She had been so determined, so strong- the only way to win was by force, because she hadn't given him an easy way out.

And he was furious and humiliated and regretful.

Temari knew this when she followed him. She knew exactly how unsecure he was, but she ignored this part of her mind, continuing to bang on his door.

"Open the door," she said slowly but confidently, "I am your superior."

There was a very annoyed groan, and then the knob turned.

Shikamaru was standing over a sink, shirt off, washing some of the blood from him face.

"Let me see it," she said striding over to him.

"I think you should leave," he snapped, but took a towel to the water on his face and neck and turned to her anyway. "You're not a medic."

"If you wanted one of those," she said plainly, "you would have gone to the infirmary like you were supposed to. Now sit."

Reluctantly, he sat on the edge of the bed, looking way as she began wiping away the dirt and grime from the fight with the warm towel. Temari positioned herself between his legs, kneeling up to drag the towel over his shoulder and his chest, balancing herself on his thigh.

"She'll be okay," Temari began, but Shikamaru cut her off.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She nodded, scraping over his collar at some dried blood and mud. She tried harder, moving a hand to his inner thigh to push herself up as she moved her hand ferverently.

But as soon as her hand put pressure on his leg, he let out a quick breath, grabbing her wrist in one , instinctual, swift movement to pull her away from him and into standing.

She didn't say anything, taken aback, as he held her wrist in his hand, his eyes burning into her waist, his breath becoming labored in its lack of control.

"Temari," he said slowly, "I told you too leave."

She paused, her face becoming flushed as his hand began squeezing her wrist. "Why?"

"Because," he said slowly, "I can't wait any longer."

She let out as long gasp, her breath shaking. And it was too much- he grabbed her elbow with his other hand, taking her and pulling her around and under him.

They stopped there, lying out on the bed, his thigh pressing into her groin, her mouth close enough to his to have their breath mingle.

The anticipation hung in the air, palpable. Hearts beating raggedly, thumping against chests.

Neither one moved, just looking at one another, heavy breaths creating the only noise in the cabin. After a minute, Shikamaru gripped the outside of her right thigh, fingers holding tightly.

And as if given permission, Temari willed herself over, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met, and then they were kissing- a mix of sucking a biting, his hot tongue sweeping over hers, lips pulling and teeth banging.

She could feel the heat between her legs; feel herself growing wet as pulled away long enough to unzip the vest from her torso, practically ripping the zipper off in the process.

It was desperate and heated, tearing her satin tank top as he tried to pull it down over her shoulder, tongue and teeth sweeping over her jaw, her neck.

She reached for his pants, fingers fumbling with the buckle, but pulling the fly down quickly and with ease. His boxers were off, his vest on its way as she began on her own pants. Seconds later, she was rolling on top of him trying desperately to get his length in her, against his will. He wanted to tell her to wait, to not make it simply a lay. He wanted to warn her, this meant more.

But before the words could come, she had taken hold of his cock and was guiding it wherever she wanted it to go.

She moved over him, letting out a loud moan as soon she he was all the way inside her.

"Fuck," she was whispering, head thrown back, sore lips parted in ecstasy. His hands went to her waist, no breath able to come to him, his fingers ran up her side, touching the outside of her breasts before reaching for her neck and pulling her down to latch his mouth onto a nipple.

As if she now remembered how sex worked, Temari began moving, going slowly, but going hard.

Their rhythm was in sync now, and it didn't take long until he rolled them over to push into her harder.

He thrust, over and over, the feeling of being inside her, inside any woman for that matter, had gone too long (five months) unfelt.

When she came, it was loud and earth shattering, the whole world beginning to shake as the sound of her moans overpowered the squeaking of springs in the bed.

And she was hot and wet and slick and couldn't help but come sooner than he had ever wanted to.

But when did… damn.

They ended like that, him on top, still inside her, too worn to move. Her body was soaked with sweat, her chest hurting with the effort it took to breath with all his weight on her.

But none of it mattered.

She was so... relieved.

But then when Shikamaru pulled out, rolling over to lie on his own, more dry, section of the cheap bed, Temari began too slowly regain focus.

"Well," she began, "I… I didn't... now what?"

With no other words to say, he let the thought slip, "I think I'm in love with you."

That hadn't been what she was expecting. Letting out a short laugh, Temari realized he was serious. "This is the first time we've spoken in a month," she pointed out.

He shrugged, "I'm just saying… I don't think we can do this again."

She stared at him then looked back at the ceiling. Annoyed she had even attempted to go without sex for almost two years. "Well," she said simply, "that's a stupid reason."

When she first figured out that she might have more than just sexual feelings for him, it was when his pretty blonde friend was released from the infirmary and Temari saw them walking through the camp, Shikamaru escorting her to her cabin after her two weeks in recovery.

Temari, only a few feet from them, watching from the window of the rec hall, heard the girl point to his neck and laugh. "You've been having some fun while I was gone, haven't you?"

Figuring it was probably a hickey, Temari only watched as Shikamaru gave his friend a sheepish look.

"Finally got her, I see." The girl said, grinning.

"It was her fault," he said nonchalantly. And that made Temari smile.

The first time she realized she was in love, was the last night she saw him for almost thirteen weeks.

When the end of February came, Shikamaru got ready to leave, his six months of training complete. They'd hardly had a month together in the end, wasting away five good ones as their own frustrations got the better of them.

She had decided to leave with the second string of Wind Country ANBU in another week.

After this, they would go to the respective villages, where they would spend the rest of their lives, or at least the next few years, in the ANBU divisions, protecting their people.

The night was late, the air cool and her cabin cozy. He was stretched out on his back, hair mussed and matted, eyes probably puffy from lack of sleep. But he didn't give a fuck, preparing for the inevitable words of parting.

"Did I ever tell you," he began, running a finger over her naked back. "Why I joined ANBU?"

"No," she said softly, voice muffled in the pillow.

"Well," he continued, observing how the lamplight made her lightly tanned skin glow. "It was because of you."

She sat up briskly, "me?"

"Part of it, yes. Before you left, you gave me a bunch of shit about not applying myself. So, I became a jonin, and after that, applied for ANBU."

"Because of me?"

"Well, my father and Ino helped too. But yes, because you made me feel worthless."

She blushed, leaning down to brush her lips over his neck, "I am so sorry if I hurt your feelings."

Shikamaru snorted, "I know you never meant to. But if you're going to start apologizing for that, you'd spend the next year of you life speaking to everyone from the Leaf to the Mist."

She smacked his chest lightly, going back to lying on her stomach.

"Shikamaru," she asked after a while, "what now?"

He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "I don't know. Go back to our lives, I guess."

"I won't see you," she whispered, "it's not like before. I'm not the ambassador anymore."

He gave a small laugh, "we'd take you over Kankuro any day." But then sobered, "Temari…" he began, having thought this out before, "real life isn't like camp."

"You don't think I know that?"

"What I think is that sometimes… feelings are skewed here. When we go back to reality, it might be different. You've, well, you've been here for a year and a half, you'll probably want something else after you leave."

"You think I'll want someone else." She said it as a statement, but he nodded anyway.

"I just- I could travel to Suna often enough. Tsunade and Gaara would understand, but when you get home, you could… change your mind." He paused, glancing at her. "Why are looking at me like that?"

She only smirked, sitting up and crawling onto his lap. "Don't be daft," she said with a smile, "I can promise you that I won't have changed my mind."

"Why?"

She chuckled under breath, leaning forward to place her lips on his jaw, "because," she mumbled against his skin, "I love you."

He couldn't help the satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Well that's a stupid reason."

I know you all don't know anything about Ikuyo, but she will now appear anytime I need a really BAMF of an OC (she IS bamf, ya'll just don't know it yet).

So, yeah. review review!

Seriously, reviews are what make my day.

Thanks, love, etc. etc.

-LM