"What?" Shikamaru asked, confused, and Temari looked away, almost ashamed.

"Do you love her more?"

"Why," Shikamaru began slowly, as though speaking to a child, "would I love her more?"

"Because she had a baby," Temari snapped, suddenly angry, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"So? The baby cries all the time, and it's tiring."

"But you wanted it." She was bristling like an alley-cat, clenched hands and bared teeth. She was beautiful when she was angry, he decided, so sharp and wicked, such a difference from delicate, soft Ino. "You were so happy when she had the brat."

He reached out and touched her lips, and she fell silent. "Don't be bothersome," he said tiredly. "I'm not going to love her more, so just be quiet."

She stared at him for a long moment, then swallowed a scream, punching the wall. "Go home," she forced out, pressing her forehead against the much-abused wall. Shikamaru looked at her and she avoided his eyes. "The negotiations are over, you don't need to be here anymore. Go home to your wife and your son."

He stopped next to her on his way to the door, leaning over to kiss her cheek quickly. She didn't move, a stone of sand, and he opened the door with a put-upon sigh.

"I love you, Temari," he said as he closed the door behind him, and she scrambled across the room to grab a vase and hurl it at the door, wishing it was shattering against him, rather than the door.

"Stupid bastard," she whispered, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like crying.

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