Temari stood at the door to his apartment, her back turned to him. "I guess this is it," she muttered. Shikamaru lay on the couch, eyes on the ceiling. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't watch her walk right out of his life. They both knew it wasn't going to work. Relationships between ninja were difficult enough. Relationships between ninja who came from two different countries: impossible.

He heard the door open. "Bye, Shikamaru." Her voice didn't sound like hers. It was weak. Sad. Hurt.

He wasn't confident enough to speak. If he tried, he'd only end up begging her not to leave, to stay, to pretend to be his for just a moment longer.

He didn't move from the couch. Didn't take the five steps to reach her, to gather her back up in his arms and say that everything was going to work out.

The door closed.

They had tried to make it work, but it just wouldn't. Shikamaru closed his eyes. How long would it take to stop thinking about her; to stop imaging that she would be there when he woke up, or cast a devilish grin his way just before making fun of him? He knew her. He knew her smile, the one she'd reserve for him when she was especially pleased. He knew the crease between her brows when she was ready to chew him out on a particularly chauvinistic comment. He knew her voice; the one that moaned his name in ecstasy, hitched at the climax, and whispered in his ear I love you, I love you, I love you...

He had no idea when it was that he fell for her. Their relationship simply happened. One moment they were bantering over a pile of paperwork, and the next he had her pinned to the floor. He had claimed her lips hungrily, and she had managed to take his flak jacket off in less than a second. Before he knew it, he had given his heart over to a wild, untamed hurricane of a woman.

"We don't get a happy ending," Temari said to him once she realized they were getting serious. "Do we?"

He pulled her close. It was the first time they'd seen each other in months. As a result, clothes were nothing but a nuisance. Their schedules were constantly conflicting, and a six day journey back and forth hardly made it any easier.

For the first time, he thought about it. She was right. They had allegiances to two different villages. Though their respective homes may be on friendly terms, it didn't change the fact that being together meant much more than simply changing locations. He couldn't imagine leaving Konoha, and he knew Temari would never abandon her brothers.

It'll be alright. No. There was no point in lying to Temari. She was shrewder than most, and far more down to earth than perhaps even he. Let's ditch this crowd and bounce, just you and me babe.
Yeah right.

"I'll think of something," he muttered, lifting her chin to his and kissing her softly. She smirked, flipping him onto his back and straddling his waist.

"Think all you want, but you're not getting out of this," she nibbled at his lips and ground against him slowly. He groaned into her mouth. She was exotic, heady, arousing; and she knew it. It was this self-possession that was both intoxicating and frightening. He placed his hands on her hips, seeking entrance.

"No touching," was her response, teal eyes hypnotising and demanding. He gripped the sheets. She was playing with him, and he was putty in her ever teasing hands. She tortured him with the slickness between her legs, lengthening each painfully short thrust. There was no way he could hold out as long as her. "Temari," he warned her. She glared. "Don't even think about it," she said, unsteady, and obviously just as ready to lose it as he. She worked her hips back and forth until he couldn't bear it. "Do it," she breathed, hot, heavy against his neck, and he was in no position to defy her. She grew weak with the release, and slumped against his chest.

"You're going to be the end of me, woman."

She chuckled, letting her fingers run through his hair. "Are you going to tell me that I'm troublesome?"

"The most."

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Do you have to leave tomorrow?"

"I do," he panted. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to."

He hadn't wanted to be apart from her. Not for a minute. Not for a second. When had that changed? Shikamaru sighed.

It hadn't. He still wanted to be with her. He wanted to be able to kiss her in the morning, wrap his arms around her waist, and start the day knowing at least one thing was going to be all right. He wanted to see her become a mentor. She'd work the shit out of some poor trio, but in the end they'd be the best, all because they'd be able to survive her tough personality and unconditional love. He wanted to watch her waddle around the house, heavy with his child, maternal instincts kicking in when she least expected it. He wanted to look at his children and see some semblance of her; with any luck, their daughter would have Temari's hair and Temari's eyes and Temari's amazing ability to be both compassionate and cruel. Knowing the Nara family genes, any son they had would look like him, and he hoped with two strong female relations, his son would come to understand woman much faster, and much better than Shikamaru had ever hoped to. He would be a mixture of proud and sad as he watched his kids move on, become independent, and start their own families. But he'd still have Temari. Blonde hair, wider hips, a body battered by two kids; but then they'd both be different, changed, scarred from too many battles and too many fights. Somehow she'd still love him when he was nothing but old, cranky and retired, and she'd light up each of his mornings with her daring, wrinkled smile. They'd play shougi until she'd get bored and tell him that life was too short to just be staring at the clouds, and hopefully, one day, he'd pass on before her, because he didn't think he could survive watching the light fade from the teal-green eyes of the love of his life.

"I love you," she said through repressed tears. "But I can't have you."

He sat stunned. For three years they had been together. He was happy. They had been happy.

"We're too old to be just fooling around," Temari continued. He almost laughed. She was twenty-eight, hardly old in his mind. Sure, age had made a difference when they were in their teens, but now it seemed trivial.

"So what, you're breaking up with me?"

She didn't say anything. The pit at the bottom of his stomach turned into a black hole, eating away at his insides.

"We can't be together," she said with finality. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Maybe it was working for her, but it wasn't for him. Okay, so he hadn't thought of a way around their more pressing problem, but did that mean everything needed to end? Temari bit her lip. "We weren't ever meant to be together."

Here he was, right where she had left him, the couch permanently molded to his form. If they weren't meant to be together, why did he feel that they were? A million possibilities floated through his head, racing, whirling, pushing him to think of a future without Temari.

He couldn't think of a single one.

Authors notes: I'm not sure where this came from, but let me know what you think! I never expected to get back into Shikatema this much, so I have a lot of feels, okay, I just do.