Note: It's funny when a girl hits a guy. It's funny when a dog hits a guy, as Scott Adams of Dilbert noted. It's not funny when a guy hits a girl or a dog. It would've worked better considering the personalities if it'd been the other way but... I have to bend Shikamaru's character about in here a bit, more than I would've liked, but if you squint it's all right.

Written for rondaview, who wanted to see some TemaShika action. I did hetero. I can't believe I did hetero. I am stunned. But! I like how it came out--I love Temari, I really do.

Wacky, freaky, slightly naughty situations. Enjoy!

Shikamaru let himself slide further in the warm, steaming bath water that was easing his sore muscles, and tried to ignore the screeching harpy pounding on the bathroom door down. The door shuddered on it's hinges from the blows.

It had been a long, crappy mission--rescue missions always were. All missions were. And while the hotel suite was crappy--all these country hotels were--there was running hot water and a fridge downstairs, and he had gotten to sleep on a real mattress last night and now...

Now he just needed some down time...

The banging continued. Bang. Thud. Pound. Bang.

Shikamaru tried. He really did.

But sadly, every man has his pride, and with even more sorrow, Shikamaru had to admit that at one point, while approaching his nineteenth birthday reluctantly, he was a man.

Somewhere. Deep down. Sometimes.

It depended on how he felt at the moment.

He sighed. He wanted to take a nap.

Life sucked like that.

The banging continued.

Outside, Temari's very short patience grew shorter.

"You've been in there for half an hour! Get your ass moving--I need it more than you do! Hey! Hey! Are you even listening to me?! Get out of there now! NOW! I'm breaking the door--"

The door was yanked open from the inside.

"What?" Shikamaru snarled as he slammed one hand against the frame.

He was out of the tub. He was vertical. He was cold. He was not happy. He was not happy at all.

He hadn't bothered to tie his hair back, or even dry it, so it was plastered against his face. He, logically, also hadn't bothered to towel himself dry, or even make use of the existence of towels.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to nap--just a short nap! It was too early for loud noises or thinking and doing and he just wanted to go back to being warm and motionless until he got hungry enough to find the kitchen. And, more than that, he wanted to know what the hell was her problem. She'd been obnoxious and bitchy to him since the mission had started, and hadn't bothered to let up even when he had save her life. She hadn't even said thanks! What? PMS? Menopause? What?

Temari was mortified--she was offended beyond redemption. He hadn't even bothered...

Holy crap this was embarrassing...

He was naked.

Shikamaru blinked muzzily, at the sudden silence, and the salmon blush on Temari's face that was turning scarlet as her eyes slid, irrevocably down, the anger draining. Then things clicked in his head. Temari was frozen.

That jerk hadn't even bothered to put something on! Rude! He did it on purpose too!

The shock morphed slowly into righteous anger.

Shikamaru smirked.

"What?" he asked cockily with a bit of contempt while tilting his hips just so, since her eyes weren't on his face. "They don't have real men were you come from girl?"

Temari snapped, and he hit the floor just in time, but still getting hit by some of the falling debris as a whirlwind took out most of the doorframe. A chunk of plaster hit his arm and he yelped, crawling between his legs into the hall because there was more space out there and lashed out at her ankle, tripping her.

"Ow! Watch it idiot I bruise easily!"

"You sexist pig I'll cut your dick off!!"

"If you want it that badly you could've just--"

There was an enraged screech swiftly followed by one of pain as Shikamaru, still naked, narrowly dodged a handful of nails and knives intended for his lower bits that tipped his chest instead.

The wall in back of him was now scarred and slashed and he slapped his hand on the floor, feeding in energy to prepare an escape route while he rolled to dodge another attack on his stomach. He was bleeding--oh now that was just peachy...

"Bleeding! Bitch! I wouldn't screw you--"

"Bitch please ass hole!"

A blade shuddered through the floor where Shikamaru's arm had been, and, combined with the bit of energy he had fed into it, the floor collapsed.

Kankuro stumbled down the corridor. Good God it was early...why was it so early? Why was he awake? Oh yeah...those two. Screaming. Idiots. Crap...he needed his coffee--he needed it bad.

He opened the door to the kitchen and saw his sister and that lazy smartass kid naked wrestling on the floor...or the naked kid trying to keep his sister's kunai away from his skin, a large hole in the ceiling above them and water leaking from broken pipes.

His sister was spitting and swearing hatred and mortification while the smart-ass kid--just seemed busy holding on to her wrists away from his face and snapping back at her. Oh. How cute.

Temari was stronger in the arms than a girl should be, Kankuro had often thought. Probably had something to do with lugging the oversized fan of hers around all the time--that and plenty of pent-up anger. It hurt more than it should when she hit people, often times him.

Without really thinking, he took a few photos of the naked kid on his back and his sister on top. Ah...that'd be something to show the grandkids.

"You idiot what're you doing!?"

Kankuro smiled at the dual voices demanding help and vengeance at the same time and waved cheerfully. Coffee could wait a bit...

"Toldja you should've just screwed him first and got it out of your system early," he clipped in Temari's direction. The pink flush turned dark scarlet dappled with white on her neck and cheeks. Kankuro was amused. Then she went pale with anger. Kankuro poured his coffee, and Shikamaru was smirking his all time best smirk.

"Idiot!"

"What?"

"Shut up! The both of you--I hate all men!"

"Hah! You liked me! I knew it! You liar I knew you--Ow!"

Kankuro added sugar until the coffee was harder to stir than it normally was. He was smiling benevolently and continued to watch the small fracas on the floor.

"I'll tear your head off--"

"Which one?"

"Arrogant little snot--"

"Too bad you sag so much or I might actually--"

"What??"

Temari flushed pink--from her ears down to her neck. Emotions fought for dominance--she settled with anger. The family usually did when confusion hit, with the occasional exception of Kankuro who, while not at Shikamaru's degree of laziness, was still pretty lazy sometimes.

The short scream was cut off shortly, mostly because Kankuro had snorted out hot coffee onto her back through his nose and shock. It was an impressive display of control on Temari's part that she didn't lose concentration on her objective--trying to castrate Shikamaru--to startle at the sudden hot liquid.

It was an impressive display of control on Shikamaru's part that he turned to look to the source of the shock. The look on his face and the sudden weakness in his arms--she could pin them to the floor now--was enough to cue Temari in to the fact that something important was happening to her left. She looked.

The trio was silenced. They had an audience.

A small child dressed in an expensive red brocade kimono gazed at them in confusion, the hem embroidered with it's clan's insignia. It was no more than three feet tall, perhaps less.

Then, finally, it looked up imploring and tugged on Gaara's pants.

"That man's naked," it objected pointing, the only creature in the room not stone cold with terror or--in Gaara's case--surprise.

"That man is naked," Gaara confirmed, eyes surveying the naked man emotionlessly and Shikamaru counted three years off his life, "and with my sister."

Crap.

Shikamaru was prepared to forfeit the whole thing if it meant less pain. He didn't whimper though--his throat had closed.

Temari felt herself pale.

After a slow nail screeching burn, Gaara addressed Kankuro.

"Why?"

From the corner of his eye, Kankuro could see Temari paling and psychically threatening him with bodily harm. Directly in front of him, he could see Gaara the Killer patiently painstakingly, deboning his body with his eyes, joint by painful cartilage-lined joint. The Cowards' Corner had already been crowded and closed down by Shikamaru--he would find no refuge there.

In a fit of cravenness, his higher thinking functions shut down, perhaps explaining the crappiness of his answer.

"They really like each other. A lot. So..." the lower thinking functions shut down too. Gaara was staring at him. He wouldn't stop staring at him.

"I just came 'cause of the coffee though..."

His voice died mid-plea. Gaara's silences could do that: huge, sucking silences like inaudible black holes. Without reply, he turned back to the human sprawl.

"Are they married?"

Kankuro hesitated--he wanted his coffee, but he wanted his vital organs intact too. It was a tough call.

"No?" he hazarded.

"Have the Hokages been informed?"

"No," Kankuro said with more certainty. No, they certainly didn't know--he doubted Temari or the smart-ass kid had known either before he had opened his big mouth.

The silence yawned, gaping and saw-toothed, and threatened to swallow him hole. Gaara wasn't looking at him now, but then he didn't have to.

"I'll see to it?"

"Good."

Gaara glanced at Temari with all the emotions a younger sibling gives to an elder when they begin to date: anger, jealousy, possessiveness, disgust, awe, pride, confusion, and loss.

Temari felt something...melt. He never acted his age...but when he did he...

She wanted to hug him, but the family didn't hug. She wouldn't, naturally. But she wanted to.

Then Gaara looked at Shikamaru.

Shikamaru's elbow scraped and scrabbled loudly twice against the floor in a bone-deep survival instinct to run--run and run and run and never look back because he would already be dead. But, the logical part of Shikamaru's brain knew, even without the light green eyes growling it, that he'd never be able to run fast enough. He'd never be able to hide well enough. Never. So he gave up, and prayed the death would be quick, because it wouldn't be painless. He surrendered--he wouldn't insult her or even be near her if it meant he got to live a few moments longer...

Without saying a word, an understanding was reached.

Gaara continued down the hall, the child at his heels.

Behind them, sound exploded.

"You fucking moron why the hell'd you tell him that!!!"

"You idiot! You goddamned idiot!!"

"Hey don't you--hey! Watch it!"

"Hold him! He's mine! He's mine!"

"You little butt wipe--"

"That's my brother ass hole, shut your mouth! You little wanker you--"

The child tugged again on Gaara's pants--they were closer than his hand was.

"Those people are saying bad words."

"Yes."

"Mother said I shouldn't listen to naughty words like that."

"Then don't."

"Where are we going now?"

"To eat."

"Oh. Did you really have a bear like Mr. Stitches when you were little?"

"Yes."

"Wow... Do you still have him?"

Pause.

"What do you want to eat?"

End Notes: Duh da! Done.

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