Naruto 1. Fairytales

**A/N: **I basically started this so that when i go braindead for my other stories, i'll have someplace where i can post all the random plot bunnies that jump into my head. I don't know if i'm gonna make it all shikaino or not, but i'm thinking i will. Who knows though, knowing me, if probabably won't end up that way...

This one's really low-key, mellow, it was relaxing to write. I know it's not perfect, but perfection is overrated anyway. I'd love feedback, it makes me quite happy!

**Summary:** When it came to fairytales and happy endings, she wasn't exactly a believer, but she could at least hope for something close.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, Naruto not mine, you know the drill.

* * *

**Fairytales  
**_ShikaIno_

The sun was red, oh so very, very red (red like the blood coursing through her veins, pumping through her heart), halfway past the horizon, slipping away, slowly, slowly, slowly…

It tinted everything a warm orange (not quite red, not quite gold, something between the two, a tainted color), from the sky to the grass to the trees, to his face and her face and their two forms standing side by side, though far enough apart.

(It was quiet, deathly quiet, but breaking the silence would mean breaking the spell. She couldn't do that).

She couldn't look away from the dulled orb (couldn't look at him), so she didn't. She watched every centimeter as it inched along, seemingly into the ground, though it would never come into contact. It didn't burn, didn't blind, didn't hurt. It was an escape.

He yawned (spell broken, magic erased, figures he would do such a thing) and she chanced a quick glance to her left, electric blue cautious and curious.

"Tired?"

A shrug, noncommittal as always, his hands lodged in the pockets of his light beige pants, hazel eyes as intent on the spectacle before them as she had previously been. The shadows under his eyes gave her her answer.

"You didn't have to come."

"…I know."

A sigh escaped her lips, lost into thin air, avoiding her ears, and hopefully his. (But he was Shikamaru, so it only made sense that he heard her, no matter how silent her call). Hazel swiveled, blue locked on, four splashes of such contrast painting such a clear picture.

(Clear to her, but she wondered if he understood).

She felt the strange something, the outlandish electricity between their calm gaze, and she realized that it was almost frightening, how much was lying hidden beneath what they chose to see.

_Are you alright?_ he asked silently.

_Do I look like I'm not?_ she answered, just as mutely.

The smallest smirk graced his lips. _How should I know?_ it was saying.

(What they tried to pretend wasn't there was, in fact, impossible to pretend wasn't there. A complicated thought, but who said they weren't complicated? She would have scoffed at such an accusation: "Being simple is _so_ boring," he would have merely frowned: "What a troublesome question…").

She wanted to say, 'But you should know, Shika, you're supposed to know. You _do_ know, don't act like you don't.' But she instead shook her head slightly, her pink lips slanting up almost invisibly at the corners. She knew that if she opened her mouth her mind would go blank, the words erased from memory, a sign that they weren't meant to be said in the first place.

Instead, she said, short and sweet, "Do you believe in fairytales?"

A dark eyebrow rose, not quite critically, but quite bemusedly. "Is that a serious question?"

It was her turn to shrug. (Let him figure out the answer for himself. Now he had two questions to answer, but he was a genius, it couldn't be too hard).

He scrutinized her, eyes never leaving hers, and hard as she tried, she couldn't ignore the strange little twist her stomach was making. It was uncomfortable and not at the same time; it was strange and new and terrifying and exhilarating and just so exciting, and a part of her didn't want it to end.

(But that other part, the part trained to stop things like these, told her that he was Shikamaru and she was Ino, and there was nothing more to it. _Don't let your emotions blind you, you're a ninja, you don't feel more than is necessary_). She sometimes wished for a shovel that could bury this nagging little voice, only to dig it up when it was really needed.

Finally, and she didn't miss the sarcasm, he said, "I was never much of a fairytale kind of guy."

"…Oh." She left off the 'that's too bad.'

"Do you? Believe in them?"

"Hm…" she hummed deep in her throat, eyes upturning to the fiery sky overhead where the milky clouds were spread so thin, they were almost invisible against the vibrant reds and oranges. She thought, bit her lower lip in that expression that was just so her, and thought some more.

Finally, she answered. "Yes, I think I do. Or, at least…I'd like to." The last part was hushed, wistful.

"Why?" Straight to the point, as always, and hinting his bemusement. (Fairytales were troublesome, no doubt, because they weren't real). He really lacked a certain something called tact in many a situation.

She glanced at him again, her answer clear, her voice strong. "Because they have happy endings."

Something changed in his eyes, and she wondered if maybe he was beginning to understand (Maybe he had understood the whole time). His lips parted, but nothing came out, all sound lost behind an invisible wall, and so he frowned, forehead wrinkling the smallest bit. For once, he didn't know what to say, didn't know the answer. It frightened her, because it meant that she would have to take a stand and answer the question for herself.

(She had hidden it well, but she doubted he had missed it).

_Will I ever have my very own happy ending?_

She didn't think that she was ready to answer herself just yet. She couldn't make promises, because they just set you up to break them. But maybe, just maybe, a small step (giant, giant, terrifying leap) would tell her if she was heading in the right direction.

So she lifted her hand, held it out slowly, and lightly closed her fingers around his, swallowing past the painful lump in her heart telling her _DANGERDANGER! _She threw caution to the wind, which ironically was nonexistent. If she listened hard enough, she was sure that she would hear her own heartbeat pounding violently against her ribcage, struggling to break free of its cage.

Dark eyes widened, illustrating shock, and was that fear? _What are you doing?_ they seemed to ask. (He was putting up his walls as she was breaking hers down).

"I don't know," she whispered back. "…Leaping."

If he was confused by her answer, he didn't show it, instead letting his eyelids fall back down as he sent her a steady gaze that, for once, she was absolutely at a loss for trying to decipher. So they looked at each other, just looked, didn't say anything. They were merely trying to _understand_. Because neither really knew what was going on.

And when he looked away, she was just as confused, if not more. (He wasn't letting go, but he wasn't holding on). This was the paradox that was them. Shikamaru and Ino: the paradox.

It was his voice that broke the (heavylightstrangenormal) silence, saying in his low (music to her ears noshedidn'tthinkthat!) tone, "It's getting kind of late…"

_I don't think we should be doing this._

"It's still light out," she pointed out matter-of-factly, mirroring him and turning her head to the enormous sun, while trying to act as unaffected as possible by his hand still in hers.

_How do you know?_

He sighed, "Troublesome," but didn't pull his warm hand out of her light grasp.

_I…don't know._

And a tiny spark of hope lit somewhere deep inside her.

"Just stay a little longer, please?" she asked, a small smile beginning to surface on her face, and her eyes sparkled in the pleasant glow of the setting sun that was almost gone from view.

_Let this fairytale last a little longer._

She caught his sidelong glance, and this time it was her that broke eye contact. (Let him make his decision without her help).

She closed her eyes as he drew in a deep breath through his nose (it was a calming sound, she enjoyed it), and then let it out in his signature sigh. His hand shifted in hers, and for a second she felt a jolt of panic in her heart (was he leaving?), but was pleasantly surprised when he intertwined his fingers with hers.

"You're so troublesome…" he said with that hidden-yet-not hint of affection.

She let out a breathy laugh, the corners of her reopened eyes crinkling happily. She didn't have to look at him to know that there was a rarely-seen smile on his face; she could hear it clearly in his voice.

"Thank you." _Maybe this is what fairytales are like…_

A small squeeze from his hand sent a lazy, warm feeling pooling through her, like a sip of hot-cocoa on a winter day. (Was it really a coincidence that their hands fit so perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle?)

As they stood silently hand in hand, with the sun bathing their fronts in light and causing dark shadows to stretch out endlessly behind them, Ino wondered if maybe she had started going in the right direction, if her leap had been worthwhile.

She didn't quite believe in fairytales, but maybe, just maybe, she could have something close.


	2. Vampire

**A/N:** ok, so, i just dicovered this amazing anime called vampire hunter, which is seriously one of the best things EVER. it's based off of the manga (which i haven't read, shame on me) but the anime is only 6 eps so far and i am OBSESSED (with zero). So yeah, the idea of vampires inspired me to write this, and seriously, wouldn't ShikaIno make a hot vampire couple? I should write more about them and their vampire-ness... Enjoy!

**Summary:** If they were mere humans, he realized, then the scene would have instead been them intertwined in a romantic, middle-of-the-night kiss. But this meant so much more, held so much more value.

**Vampire  
**_ShikaIno_

He knew from the moment he saw her emerge at the top of the golden-banister staircase, her hair up in an intricate blonde knot with light wisps framing her porcelain skin, her stunning cerulean eyes lined with charcoal kohl and lips painted an enticing brilliant red; he knew that he must have looked like an idiot, the way he openly gaped at her.

And as she gracefully descended the stairs, sending him a brief grin before scanning the room, he knew that his blood pressure must have risen dangerously high, and he wondered when the _hell_ she had ever learned how to look so beautiful.

"Hey," she greeted softly when she reached the bottom step. "Hm, I think suits suit you," she said, eyeing him with a lively twinkle in her eyes, and then giggled. "Get it?"

He was thankful that he had realized and shut his mouth before she had noticed, or else he would not have been able to pull off the furrowed eyebrows and frown he was wearing.

"Very funny," he responded blandly, burrowing his hands in his jacket pockets, trying to act bored with the whole scene. Which was very hard to do since she decided that it was the perfect time to laugh again, and he found himself wondering when the sound had become so…enticing.

"Oh come on, Shika, lighten up," she teased, placing a hand on his arm and pushing him gently. "Seriously though, you look good."

He silently cursed the way she could say something like that with such ease. He swallowed and said, "Yeah, so do you, Ino."

He couldn't help but admire her choice of attire: a strappy crimson dress that hugged her torso and fell into uneven curtains from her waist to just below her kneecaps. She really did have nice legs…

"Well? Are you ready? Choji's probably already at the buffet," her voice cut across his thoughts smoothly, and his hazel eyes snapped back to her blue ones. He felt a jolt of panic when he saw what might have been a knowing look in her eyes partnered with the sly grin on her lips that were pulled back just far enough to reveal two pointy tips. Had she just caught him checking her out?

"Yeah…let's go," he answered as coolly as possible, though his eyes widened as she looped a bare arm through his and began dragging him along behind her as she lead them towards the end of the hall where two enormous wooden doors stood. The faint melodic sound of an orchestra seeped slowly through the barriers, the pleasant thrum of violins standing out among the almost eerie tune.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and placed a palm on the door, and the immediate sound of creaking joints rose to their ears. She cast him the smallest glance, an excited grin on her face, before strutting into the room, obviously expecting him to follow.

As he traced her footsteps, he couldn't help but think that the vibrant red of her dress swaying around her hips was a much nicer color than the deep burgundies flanking the room in the form of curtains and a vast carpet that was only broken by the rich brown of a dance floor. Couples in elegant dresses and tuxes were swaying to and fro, seemingly entranced in the tune, as the orchestra lured more and more to fill up the floor.

Shikamaru regarded this all through bored eyes, sighing quietly as he followed Ino from a distance, making sure that he could always catch a glimpse of her dress so that he didn't lose her in the crowd. When he emerged on the other side of the chamber, it was to find Ino in discussion with a rather chubby man in a light gray suit, two champagne glasses in his hands.

As he was taking a sip from the deep red liquid in the less full glass, Ino jerked her chin to the right, and the man she was with turned his head curiously, glass still at his lips. When he noticed Shikamaru, he made a noise of recognition in his throat and lowered the drink.

"Shikamaru!" he boomed joyously, unaware of the thin trickle of red running down his chin. "Took you long enough. Here, I got you a glass," he said, holding out the untouched beverage in his other hand.

Shikamaru grunted something incoherent and grasped the thin handle, and was about to take a sip when Ino redirected the chubby man's attention to her by scolding, "Choji! Be neater when you're drinking." She picked up a silk napkin from a nearby table and dabbed at his face, and Shikamaru narrowed his eyes.

"What?" Ino asked with a frown, noticing his glare and responding immediately.

Shikamaru let his stare linger for a brief moment before taking a large swig from the champagne glass he was holding, smacking his lips afterwards and pulling a grimace.

"This is nothing compared to the real stuff."

"It's better than nothing, though," Ino replied nonchalantly, letting the now-stained napkin drop onto the table as Choji ran a hand through his sandy hair, most likely embarrassed at having to be cared for like a child. "I'm going to get something to eat, want anything?" she asked over her shoulder as she began heading towards the long banquet table lined up in front of the orchestra.

"Whatever looks good," Shikamaru said vaguely. An amused laugh averted his attention from the blonde's back, and he gave Choji a bemused stare.

"What?" he spat a little too grumpily, for Choji only raised his eyebrows in an amused expression.

"Oh, nothing," was the reply, complete with a not-so-subtle undertone that Shikamaru chose to ignore.

"This is so annoying," he grumbled, pulling out a cushioned chair and sitting down unceremoniously, resting his cheek on his palm. "This is absolutely stupid."

"Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Choji commented sarcastically, taking a seat across from Shikamaru and fixing the dark-haired man with a calculating look.

"What?" Shikamaru asked again, turning his head to the other side, avoiding his friend's eyes.

"Oh…nothing."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh and began strumming his fingers against the tablecloth impatiently, though he wasn't quite sure what he was waiting for, except for the end of this pointless party.

He heard Choji take a sip from his glass, and asked him in a disgusted tone, "Do you actually like that fake stuff?" The husky man raised an eyebrow.

"Like Ino said, it's better than nothing. I mean, I'm not just gonna walk up to someone here and ask them for some of theirs."

"It'll taste better," Shikamaru pointed out stubbornly, but Choji merely shook his head.

"You really should get used to drinking the substitute."

Before Shikamaru could argue his irritation any further, Ino reappeared with a shiny silver plate and a, "There wasn't really much left. That's what you get for dawdling, Shika," as she set the plate in front of him.

As Shikamaru stared moodily down at the scant amount of salad on his plate, he was seriously contemplating telling her that it was, in fact, she who spent the most time getting ready. He stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork and put it in his mouth whole, biting down and enjoying the sensation of its guts spilling everywhere.

"You going to drink that?"

"Huh?" he asked blankly, his eyes rising to see Ino sitting next to him, idly twirling a platinum lock around her red-tipped finger. It was like watching a snake encircle its prey, slowly slithering around and around and around…

"I said," Ino enunciated slowly, a smirk forming on her lips, and she directed her eyes to Shikamaru's half-full glass that he had abandoned. "Are you doing to drink that?"

"Wha-no. Go ahead."

He watched intently as she reached past him and brought the crystal to her tinted mouth. She tilted her head back and downed the translucent red rink in one go. Shikamaru let his attention wander to her exposed neck, his eyes slowly scanning down to her shoulders, where her dress made a stark contrast to her pure skin. He made sure to focus on her face when she set the empty glass back on the table.

"Dance with me," she demanded suddenly, pushing her chair back and flipping loose hair out of her face.

"Wha-" Shikamaru began, startled, but Ino did not allow him the justice of finishing, for she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Dance with me," she said again, a glint in her blue eyes that Shikamaru was just able to catch before she was dragging him along behind her, much like earlier, though now her stride had more intent. He didn't even hear Choji's wolf-whistle.

"Ino, why do I have to do this?" he asked once the blonde had twirled around and placed one of her hands on his shoulder.

"Because, it'll be fun," she said innocently, but the two pearly white points behind her lips did not support her tone. She grabbed Shikamaru's hand and began a slow, unpracticed routine around the dance floor.

"I doubt it…" Shikamaru mumbled under his breath, though he still placed a hand on Ino's waist, not missing the shock of excitement that coursed through his veins at the motion. Her grin widened devilishly.

"What a bad mood you're in," she teased, doing a quick twirl before returning to Shikamaru's hold. "I'm guessing you're thirsty?"

"Hn," he grunted, avoiding her cunning gaze. Her dress really didn't hide much skin, and it was so so brilliantly red. He was very thirsty…

"Well," she said, voice lowering seductively as she leaned closer, "why don't you take a drink?"

Shikamaru raised a fine eyebrow in an attempt to hide the erratic dance his heart had decided to perform. In the most composed voice he could muster, he said, "You don't want that."

She raised her own sculpted eyebrow and let out a light exhale of breath that danced across the side of his neck. He was sure it was a silent giggle, which left him with second guesses, but before he could voice them she had had rested her head on his shoulder.

"If you say so."

His sharp intake of breath went unheard by her as she draped her arms around his neck, bringing them impossibly close. For once, Shikamaru did not seem perturbed at having his personal space invaded to such an extent, though it seemed as if the room had just grown ten times hotter.

It was stuffy and uncomfortable, and he wasn't quite sure if it was his blood that felt like it was boiling as the thin fabric of his white dress shirt clung to his skin like a second layer. Judging by the dusted pink of Ino's cheeks, he guessed that she was feeling the same way.

As the song stretched to a close, Ino took a step back, her hands still on Shikamaru's shoulders, and she fixed him with a meaningful look.

"It's too hot in here; I think I'm going to suffocate or something." She fanned her flushed face with both hands. "I'm going back to my room."

"Leaving so soon?"

She smirked and raised a scorching hand to his face, letting her fingers trail down his cheek and trace to the tip of his chin before answering. "Let's just say this isn't my ideal kind of party."

He watched intently as she sauntered away, frowning slightly as he tried to puzzle out her behavior, but ultimately gave up with a sigh and left it up to Ino being Ino, which in turn meant that she didn't _have_ to make sense.

* * *

Another half hour of the uneventful party proved too much for a hot, annoyed, and bored Shikamaru to handle, and he had slipped away without telling Choji, since the sandy-haired man seemed quite enthralled with the quickly dwindling buffet. Without quite paying attention to where his feet were taking him, Shikamaru found himself standing in front of a plain oak door at the end of a silent hallway, two stories up from the party hall.

"What a coincidence," he mumbled to himself unenthusiastically, furrowing his eyebrows at the golden 34 nailed to the center of the door. With a drawn out sigh, he raised his hand and tapped his knuckles against the solid wood three times, and after receiving no answer, merely turned the knob (which proved to be unlocked) and pushed the door open.

"Hm? I knew you would come," drawled a feminine voice.

"You should really lock your door, Ino. What if some pervert sneaked in here instead of me?"

"Oh, Shika, you worry too much," Ino chided, her form rising into a kneeling position on top of the bed situated against the left wall of the dark room. "Besides, I _knew_ it was only you."

"_Only _me?" Shikamaru repeated, his voice speaking distaste at her informality.

Ino tipped her head to the side, and Shikamaru noticed the unbound shimmers of blonde spilling over her shoulders, visible in the limited moonlight cutting through the thin, white curtains covering the window. She looked more like a porcelain doll than anything else, ruby lips and sapphire eyes and scarlet dress alluring splashes of color amidst the shadows. Shikamaru swallowed.

Blue eyes narrowed beguilingly. "So what brings you here?"

"I dunno. I was bored, so I decided to take a walk."

"Oh? I see…"

A much welcomed breeze billowed out the curtains and swept through the small room, blowing Ino's hair out in front of her. She un-tucked her legs from beneath herself and stepped off the bed.

"Well, I think you came up here for a completely different reason," she said with a glint in her eyes, closing the gap between them slowly. One of her straps fell off of her shoulder; she didn't bother to fix it.

"Do you?" They were beating around the bush, and he knew it.

Ino stepped around him and pushed the door shut, cutting of the yellow of the hall light.

"I do."

Shikamaru titled his head around halfway so that he could look at her out of the corner of his eye. Her back was turned, hand still on the door.

"Well then, mind telling me what I'm here for?"

Ino turned, fixing him with a devilish grin while pulling her hair over one shoulder, leaving the other bare.

"Blood. Mine. I know you want it."

Shikamaru's eyes flitted from her shoulder to her face, and he resisted the urge to back away as she stepped closer, eventually raising her hands to his collar, loosening the red bowtie and pulling it off. Shikamaru panicked.

"Ino, what are you doing?" He grabbed her wrists, piercing her with a strong look, eyebrows slanted in warning.

"Nothing you don't want," she smirked, easily pulling her hands out of his weak grasp. With nimble fingers she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his undershirt and pulled the collar away from his neck. The next time she grinned at him, two pearly-white fangs were fully visible among her other perfect teeth.

Against his better judgment, Shikamaru tilted his head back as Ino rested her hands once more on his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes for better height. Her hot breath skirted across his bear flesh, and uncontrolled goose bumps formed on his arms, which he was surprised to notice were resting on her waist.

He tensed up when he felt her fangs barely scrape against his skin, and his stomach tied itself in knots, from anticipation or fear he couldn't quite tell. Before he could figure it out, he felt a sharp pinprick of pain on the side of his neck and hissed. Soon, however, the pain subsided and only the warm feeling of Ino's mouth on his neck and blood trailing down remained, and Shikamaru found himself enjoying it immensely.

Ino licked her lips slowly once she pulled away, and her eyes were narrowed in contemplation.

"What?" Shikamaru asked gruffly, "I don't taste good enough for you?"

"No, it's not that," Ino answered after a pause. "It's just…I haven't sucked anyone's blood for so long, I'm not used to how strong it is. The fake kind is sweeter…I like it."

Shikamaru grunted and raised a hand to the wound on his neck, his fingers meeting sticky blood, his own blood. He had never been bitten before, it was an odd sensation.

Ino laughed. "You were always a strange one. You could never get used to the fake blood we always have to resort to. It's really not that bad." There was a quiet pause, and then Ino said impatiently, "Well?"

Shikamaru raised his blood covered hand away from his neck and raised an eyebrow. Ino sighed dramatically and put a hand on the back of his head. She pulled it forward until his lips landed on her neck.

"What are you doing?" Shikamaru asked against her warm, smooth skin, savoring the sweet smell of her perfume. He could swear that he felt her pulse beating strongly underneath.

"Bite me," she said simply, slowly looping her arms around his neck. When Shikamaru didn't react, she said in a stern voice, "I wouldn't let just anyone be the first to; you should feel honored that I'm letting you. How often is it that a vampire lets themselves be bitten?"

Shikamaru sighed calmly, though he felt the two fangs in his mouth growing eagerly.

"You don't know what this means," me mumbled, unsure if what he was saying made any sense.

"Of course I do. I already said: I wouldn't let just _anyone_ bite me, and I know how much you want this," she murmured into his ear, and Shikamaru felt his restraints fall away.

His thoughts burned red and hungry, and he bit down fiercely, feeling the snap as his teeth broke her delicate skin. A whimper that was quite unlike her escaped her lips, and Shikamaru hesitated.

"No, don't stop," she said, though Shikamaru felt her hands tighten into fists in his jacket, and her breathing came heavier past the pain.

Her blood was warm and metallic and bitter, exactly how blood was supposed to taste in his mind. It was delicious, exquisite. He drank greedily, quenching the maddening thirst he had been forced to ignore for too long. He held her close; he could feel her warm body against his, her heart hammering next to his own. It was unlike him to ever lose control, but in such a situation he found it too difficult to hold onto reality and his eyes slid shut.

If they were mere humans, he realized, then the scene would have instead been them intertwined in a romantic, middle-of-the-night kiss. But this meant so much more, held so much more value. Her shaky breaths sweeping the side of his face let him know that she felt the pain but she was living with it, for him. Ino didn't like to hurt; she could barely stand paper cuts, and yet she wasn't stopping him as his teeth sank into her skin and he took what was rightfully hers: her own blood.

Slowly, he extracted his fangs, and red-hot blood seeped from the two deep holes left behind.

"Ow," Ino said in a hushed voice, wincing slightly as her hand covered the wound.

"Sorry." Shikamaru wiped his face with his dark sleeve and then gently pulled Ino's hand away from her neck. The red that had bloomed from the bite marks had ran down her neck and mixed the red of her dress; the colors matched exactly.

"No, it's okay." She giggled quietly. "We match, see? Looks like someone mauled the side of our necks…" She swayed and her eyes rolled back as she fell forward, stumbling into Shikamaru's arms.

"Ino?!"

"Ugh," she moaned into his chest, her blood mixing with his jacket. "Next time, don't drink so much, I feel all light headed."

Shikamaru couldn't help but smirk. "Next time? I'll hold you to that promise."

* * *

**A/N:** Mmmm, vampire-licious. Review anyone? and no, i am not some loony, blood-lusting person, i just had to write this to get it out of my head. if you don't like the whole vampire AU thing, you would have already stopped reading, right? i sure hope so.


	3. Umbrella

**A/N:** So i've decided that this _will_ be composed of only ShikaIno ficlets, since my mind has run wild with ideas for them. My ispiration for this one came when i was listening to Umbrella (the Rihanna cover) by All Time Low, and the whole scene pretty much built itself from there. This is NOT a song-fic, just a spur of the moment idea i couldn't let go of. Oh, and it kinda revolves around a character death, but i didn't say who.

**Summary:** Now that it's raining more than ever, at least they still have each other.

**Umbrella**

It was raining, it was pouring. He stood alone under the black umbrella, its color matching that of the clouded sky, and for a while she just stood under the tree and watched his back. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to have noticed him there on the bridge, or if she was just meant to hurry on by to get home before she was soaked to the bone. But something about how his head was bent and his shoulders hunched made her feel a certain tug somewhere in her chest that drew her out of the shadows and onto the slippery cement walkway.

He heard her footsteps splash through the puddles and turned his head to look at her. She was stopped in her tracks when she saw his face, so very forlorn with those brown eyes that were frighteningly empty but still somehow spoke invisible words of pain and sorrow and regret. There was a cigarette in his mouth, but it had been extinguished by the water long ago. It hung limp between his lips.

"Shika," she whispered, unable to coax her vocal cords to do anything more, and when he made no move to answer, just continued to stare at her in a way that was almost pleading, she furrowed her brow and stomped up to him, ignoring the water she sent spraying everywhere. She tugged the dead cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground maliciously. "I told you to stop smoking those." There, her voice was stronger now. Back to how it was supposed to be.

His eyes traveled to the ground to look at the cigarette in numb surprise before he once more fixed her with a hollow gaze that sent shivers down her spine and goose bumps up her arms. "Why does it matter?"

Her lip quivered and her voice wavered when she said, "Because they're bad for you." _And they bring back memories that I'd rather forget. They hurt too much to remember._

He tilted his head back and looked up at the dome of the umbrella blocking the clouds. She saw his chest expand and deflate; he was probably sighing. He never said 'troublesome' anymore. Strangely, she missed that word, very much so.

"I don't want you to die, too." And she told him. She told him the one fear that had been plaguing her mind like a disease, always overshadowing all else with a thick, dark gloom that she couldn't escape from.

Shikamaru brought his head down and raised his eyebrow. It almost broke her heart that the first emotion she saw in his eyes since…how long was it now?…was skepticism. He didn't take her seriously. "I'm not going to die just because I smoke-"

But she didn't care about his stupid reasoning and his stupid stubbornness and his stupid stupid _stupid_ voice that was almost laughing at her own stupid confession. As the first tear fell she lunged forward and threw her arms around his back and buried her face in his vest, not at all caring if she was crushing him in her arms. It felt so good to have someone to hold on to.

"Ino…"

"I miss him Shika. I miss him so much. I just…"

She felt him wrap a sturdy arm around her waist, telling her it was okay, she could stop talking now. "I know. I…miss him too." She barely heard his voice over the splatter of water pounding against the ground and the umbrella and their clothes and bare skin, but it was enough to feel his hot breath against the top of her head.

She let her arms loosen a bit but didn't let go, and so they stood, two lost souls seeking solace and a place in each other's partially empty hearts. Her face burrowed in the cold, wet fabric of his olive chuunin vest, his lips barely brushing her scalp, also wet from rain. They needed something tangible and real to keep them from wallowing in grief all on their own. They needed someone.

Ino muttered something into Shikamaru's chest. "What?" he asked; her voice was too muffled to understand.

She took half a step back and looked up at him. "I said, you're umbrella isn't really helping," she said thickly, eyes tinged red from tears that might well have been streams of rain water on her face.

Shikamaru looked to the side and murmured belatedly, "Yeah…"

_Please, don't look like that. You're the one that's supposed to be strong, for the both of us. Stop looking like that…_

"Shika," she said softly, almost as a question, almost as a request for him to look at her. But he continued to stare with glazed eyes at something only he could see. The water on his face looked so much like tears, she noted, biting her lip and screwing her face into an expression of concern. Concern for him.

She squeezed her arms into his sides and tried again. "Shikamaru."

And this time he looked at her. Looked deep into her eyes, and if she believed those cheesy tales she would have said he was looking into her very soul. But she didn't believe that people could do that, didn't _want_ him to see the dependency she had grown. Dependency on him: his presence, his voice, his touch. It wasn't that she was afraid of her feelings, or afraid that he knew them, she just didn't want to seem so helpless.

"What?" he asked dejectedly.

And Ino closed up her soul but opened her heart as she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on the very edge of his mouth. And vivid memories came flooding back. Memories of two teenagers/ninjas/barely more than children stumbling through the shadowed streets, the smell of alcohol lingering around them like a cloud of escape and temporary elation. She remembered laughing, then crying, then laughing again because she couldn't quite pinpoint why she was crying, the reason kept escaping her. She remembered his hand tighten around her wrist as she stumbled but was saved from falling. She remembered his eyes, piercing and frightening and full of _need_ and _want_ and a promise: _It will all be okay_.

She remembered clumsy kisses and unsure emotions swirling in her gut, and she could see the same nervousness on his face. But then she remembered scorching lips and hot breath soon after, threatening to devour her whole and overwhelm her mind until she could think no longer. She remembered his hands on her waist, pulling her closer and closer and crushing her against him, and she remembered her own hands, one around his neck and one in his hair.

She remembered his words, breathless whispers, at each gasp of air. _"I'll never leave."_

Ino remembered it all, having been more drunk on sheer emotions than on any form of alcohol, but she wondered if he remembered as well. It had happened not long after _that _day, that terrible terrible day. They had thrown away everything they had ever learned at the academy and during training and ever, and had acted irrationally, solely on feelings and adrenaline and the rush of it all.

And as she stared into his eyes she asked him, silently, if he remembered. _Well, do you?_

The smallest, most miniscule twitch of his lips made her hope, and then he reached up and pushed her waterlogged golden bangs away from her face and she dared to hope some more.

"I'll never leave."

The umbrella fell to the ground, forgotten, as he crashed his lips onto her. It tasted like smoke, but she didn't care.

* * *

**A/N:** I read a fic recently (The Seven Sins by AGENT RACH, ch.7) where there was a good chunk on - I'm gonna spoil it now, so beware all of you that don't read the manga - Asuma's death from Shika's perspective. So in this i decided to delve deeper into Ino's feelings after the death from her POV with the ideas that i imagined in this crazy ShikaIno mind of mine. Reviews equal lovelovelove.


	4. Rain

**A/N: **So, i wanted to post this a while ago, but vacation cut me off, and i wrote most of the ending while severely jetlagged. So i'm hoping it didn't just fall apart. I was going for short-and-sweet with this one, hope i succeeded.

**Summary:** The rain was falling as she stared out of her window, a thought coming to mind, one that kept nagging her. Was Shikamaru out in the rain?

**Rain**

There was a time, about one week out of the year, when the rain would pour harder than ever, flying down from the heavens like hundreds and thousands of little bullets assaulting who and whatever stood below. The sky would go gray with clouds and everything would look a tone darker to the eye; the trees weren't as vibrant and the paint on the houses didn't look as welcoming, and most of all the river under the bridge by the hospital was nowhere near calm, the ripples clashing together violently and forming miniature waves.

And the noise, it was almost deafening. Water hitting trees and the ground and houses and people, splattering and exploding into something thunderous. It was definitely not a calm noise. It was almost like drums, many of them playing together, signaling a pace that was too fast to follow.

Ino rather liked this time of year, even though she spent it inside, usually staring blankly out of her bedroom window while lost in thought, the rain a melody to her. She didn't mind the rain, and she enjoyed standing in the middle of the street with her eyes closed and head turned up so that the cool droplets ran over her cheekbones and down her neck. Well, she enjoyed it until her feet got muddy and her clothes began sticking to her uncomfortably, and if she had put on that thin layer of eyeliner, once it began to run.

And then of course, there were the sniffles that usually came afterwards, because Ino really wasn't one for 'dressing for the weather.' She was perfectly happy with a skirt, a light shirt, and a pair of sandals.

So after she had gotten herself thoroughly soaked, she would wrap her heavy blonde locks in a fluffy white towel and slip into some comfortable pajamas, and settle on the couch or her bed with a sappy romance novel and a steaming mug of hot chocolate (and marshmallows were _definitely_ a must).

This year, however, was a bit different from the rest. It was towards the end of the week, and the rain had lessened in intensity quite a bit. She still stared out of her window with glazed eyes and chin on her palm, but this time a thought popped into her head. One that kept nagging her, even though it really wasn't that important.

_I wonder if Shikamaru is out in the rain…_

He was _always_ out atop his cloud-watching hill at that time, which happened to be a bit after noon, whenever the weather was bearable, which happened to include pretty much any weather. She wondered if such dreary rain was included in that 'any weather.'

It really was a silly thought, and none of her business at that, and it wasn't like she was worried that he would catch a cold or anything (he had his mother to do all the worrying). She was just curious.

And she had definitely heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat,' but as she stepped out into the rain she highly doubted that she could die because of some drops of water. Besides, if handsome men couldn't be hurt by water, she felt it safe to assume that pretty girls couldn't be either. Which is why she hadn't bothered taking an umbrella with her.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked herself absently when she saw reached the bottom of the hill – his hill - only to see him standing at the top beneath a wide tree. So he really _did_ go there every single day. Well, everyone had their own strange habits, she concluded. (She personally enjoyed collecting heart-shaped leaves, when no one was looking of course. She called it her _unique_ habit, not quite going for the word weird).

There was a small smile on her face as she climbed the grassy slope, deaf to everything except the rainfall all around. When she was halfway up, his head turned and he looked pleasantly surprised to see her, since she wasn't quite the type to be expected to climb hills in the pouring rain.

She raised a hand and held her palm facing him in her form of a lazy wave, and his lips moved in a greeting. She couldn't hear it, but it took very little effort to decipher the muted, "Hey." She was too lazy to move her wrist; he wasn't even up for lifting his hand.

"So, why are you under the tree?" she asked him once she had reached the top. She was standing very close to him so that her voice could be heard. "Don't the leaves just block out the sky?"

"I don't like the rain," was his intelligent response.

She rolled her eyes. He was drenched to the bone; ponytail drooping and clothes heavy and glossy from water, and even under the canopy of leaves, fat droplets fell onto his shoulders and forehead, and now hers as well.

"Well then, why are you even outside then?"

He shrugged. "Habit."

She had expected that, and could only shake her head at the sad excuse, though there was a fond smile on her face.

"You make no sense."

"Neither do you."

"But I actually _like_ the rain."

She lifted a hand and grinned when his dark eyes followed it to his face, and then they immediately shifted to her face when she placed a cool finger on his temple. She traced the path of a smooth tendril of water down to his jaw, her eyes only flitting to his once her finger paused.

A smirk played at her lips as she drank in the eager look swimming deep down in his eyes, one that he was unable to hide with boredom and indifference. She really enjoyed the effect she had on him.

"Well?" she nudged, flashing white teeth in a grin.

"Well what?"

"You don't have any witty comeback to my last statement?"

He shrugged, not taking the bait. "Not particularly." She could have sworn that he tipped his face forward an inch. Eager now, weren't we?

"Okay then," she said, tilting her head to the right and dragging her finger once more over his skin, trailing it now over his bottom lip, "I win then, right?"

He didn't answer when she let her hand fall from his face, and she knew that he wouldn't, based on his cloudy eyes, so she smiled and raised herself up on her tiptoes.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She pressed her lips to his softly, noticing that his were cool from standing outside for who knows how long, and closed her eyes as the slight pressure of him kissing back became apparent. Encouraged, she placed her hands on his shoulders and stepped even closer. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her waist and tried to bring her closer more, and she stumbled at the quickness of his motion.

Her forehead rammed into his and before she knew it, he was falling backwards, bringing her down with him. She gasped and tried to avoid the grim possibility of landing so that their heads smashed together painfully, and ended up with one side of her face smacking into the wet grass.

She spluttered and wiped the slightly dirt-tinted water off of her mouth, and then rolled the rest of the way off of Shikamaru, ignoring the fact that her back was slowly being soaked with light brown water that seeped up through the mat of grass.

"Ow."

She tilted her head and stifled a laugh when she was the disgruntled frown on Shikamaru's face. "This is _your_ fault," she reminded him.

He ignored her and stared up at the tree above them, so Ino decided to copy him and do the same. Large drops occasionally dripped onto her bare arms and legs from the leaves, but they were safe from the steady downpour for the most part.

"Rain…" Shikamaru sighed in a tired voice.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Ino asked, still looking upwards but moving an arm out over the grass until it bumped into his, and then trailed her hand down to his so that their fingers just brushed.

She got a grumble in response.

The need to talk slowly drifted away, and Ino was quite content to close her eyes and listen. In a way, it was like the world was silent, and the sound of the rain sort of melted into a white noise that was easy to ignore completely. It was very peaceful, despite the raging goose bumps and teeth that were beginning to chatter quietly. So noisy, yet so quiet and calming and –

"Ow!"

Her eyes snapped open. "What?"

"A drop of water fell in my eye."

She laughed, back bouncing slightly against the ground until her voice died down and she tilted her head to look at him. In a quiet voice, she said, "I thought handsome guys can't get hurt by water."

He tore his eyes from the tree to furrow his eyebrows at her in question. "What did you say?"

"I said stop being such a crybaby."

With an indignant scowl and rolling of eyes, he looked back upwards stubbornly. She chuckled silently and gripped his icy fingers tightly, and after a long moment asked with a slight plea, "So, wanna go inside somewhere? I'm kinda slowly freezing to death."

His voice was filled with humor when he answered, "Stop being such a crybaby."

Sometimes she wondered what exactly it was she saw in him…

* * *

**A/N:** The line about handsome men not being hurt by water is from Ouran High School Host Club. Or at least, that's the first place i heard it from.


	5. Free

**Summary: **The world spins and she is falling. And he is falling with her. And she knows that they look beautiful.

**Free**

On a foggy day when the air is deliciously cold and their breath is visible to their eyes they walk hand in hand. Glove in glove, hers a thick black fabric, his worn and sporting tattered tears. The clouds above are dark and they smother the sky; everything is a shade of grey. It is so beautiful.

She is smiling, and when she looks over at him she sees that he is almost grinning, and she is so happy. Her nose is frozen and her fingers are still numb despite the gloves, and the beanie on her head is itchy and uncomfortable but she is able to look past all this. They are all insignificant details, soon to be forgotten.

She looks down at the waves crashing and churning in the ocean. Pale blue erupting with white foam and screaming into the wind; water and air filling her ears with the sound of nature and life and rebellion. And most of all freedom.

"Are you cold?" he asks, and her eyes crinkle at the corners when she answers.

"Yes, it feels so nice."

"It does," he agrees, and she nods absently.

She brings her right hand up to her mouth and pulls the glove off with her teeth so that she doesn't have to let go of his hand. She lets it fall to the ground, a scrap of fabric abandoned on the hard cement. She doesn't look back to see how incredibly lonely the scene looks, how forlorn the glove appears folded over itself and a sad heap all by itself.

Her bare hand drags along the icy railing of the bridge, rough with rust formed by the salty air. Flecks of the dark red metal stick to her palm as she continues to slide it across the flat surface, all the while looking over the edge into the roiling sea.

He squeezes her hand, barely enough for her to notice, but she does and looks up at the side of his face in silent question. He turns his head a fraction of a degree and nods - a questioning nod. His dark eyes ask her if this is the place, or if they must walk farther.

She shoots a look over her shoulder; the concrete stretches back almost endlessly into the horizon, grey on grey. "This is good," she tells him, voice soft and yet full of enthusiasm, and her feet come to a halt. She squeezes his hand tighter and reveals pretty white teeth as she smiles at him adoringly.

"Are you ready?" he asks, and she can tell that he is concerned about her.

She rolls her eyes and pulls the hood off of his head so that she can see the spiky ponytail that is hidden underneath. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. The real question is are _you_ ready?"

He chuckles. "I was born ready."

"Weren't we all." It is a not a question.

She pulls him over to the railing and leans her elbows against it, taking a deep, lung-filling breath of fresh air and holding it until her lungs begin to cry in protest. She closes her eyes tight when she lets it out. She imagines that she is leaving some of her last imprints on the earth.

She pulls her hat off and smoothes her hair down with her right hand, only to have the blonde locks disheveled by the wind. He lifts their entwined hands and pushes the rebellious strands behind her ear, but her choppy bangs are too short and insist on obscuring her vision. She laughs and throws the beanie out into the abyss of howling air, and then it plummets down. It is quickly swallowed by the waters.

"Alright," she says, and they let go of each other's hands so that they can climb up onto the railing. It is only a foot wide and she focuses only on the rusted surface so that she does not lose her balance. When she straightens out and breaths a sigh of accomplishment he takes her hand again and they are silent for a while.

She looks past the swirling veil of pale golden hair into the ocean, and then up to the line where water meets sky. Her mind is uncharacteristically blank; she doesn't have to worry about anything anymore. Instead she listens. All she hears is the thunderous harmony of wind and water, but it is the most perfect music she has ever heard. It is the best soundtrack she could have asked for.

"The cars are going to start coming soon," he informs her, because somehow he knows these things. She nods and takes a miniscule shuffle forward, less than a centimeter but enough to signal that it is time.

He leans into her and presses his nose to her cheek, flattening some of her feather-soft hair to the side of her face. She lets her eyelids flutter close when he whispers "I love you," and his lips graze her skin, and opens them when he gives her cheek a light kiss and begins to pull away.

She is lighting fast and captures his lips in a chaste, sweet kiss. She is smiling and can feel his mouth do the same. "Forever," she says when she leans back enough to look him square in the eyes.

"Forever," he agrees, and they both turn their heads at the same time to look down at the beckoning waves.

She takes one more deep breath and tilts her head back to gaze at the grey clouds up above. "Three," she says in a calm voice, knowing that he had been counting one and two silently, just as she had.

The world spins and she is falling, but she is content because she can still feel his unrelenting grip on her hand, and she knows how beautiful they must look twisting through the air. Every color is grey, and every sound is deafening, and every feeling is adrenaline. And then everything is still and quiet and she is free.

They are free.

* * *

**A/N:** The ending is supposed to be optimistic. Really. You just have to look at it a certain way.

(Five more to go!)


	6. Scorching

**A/N:** Spring break, how i _love_ thee, SO MUCH. (Ack, i haven't updated this since september?! Bad me...) It really is a sign that i don't get on this site enough when it takes me a whole 10 seconds to remember how to upload documents. 10 seconds is a long time! What fail...

This one's basically some pointless, flirty fluff that i came up with one wonderfully hot spring afternoon as i sat in my sweltering bedroom pretending it was summer. :D

**Summary:** The weather outside is frightful; the sun is so not delightful. But maybe some good can come out of a heat wave?

**Scorching **

"It's _hot_."

"Yeah, thanks. Hadn't noticed."

"You know what? Shut up."

"Quit complaining. You're not the only one suffering."

Ino crossed her arms and "hmph"-ed, but then uncrossed her arms a moment later because her skin was too hot to even her own touch. _Everything _was too hot to her own touch. The blinds were drawn, but the sun was so bright in the sky that it made the white linen glow, poorly filtering the sunlight out of her living room.

"Well, if you're getting so annoyed, why don't you just leave?"

"What? Hell no! Do you think I want to burn to a crisp out there?"

Ino groaned. "Well, you're pretty much burning to a crisp in here also. God, I hate it when it's this hot. I think I'm sticking to the couch."

"I know for sure I'm sticking to the couch," Shikamaru grumbled, then pulled an arm off of the faux-leather. It made a distinct skin-peeling-off-of-leather sound, before his arm thumped back down onto the cushions. "I figured you would at least have air conditioning."

Ino let her head fall back onto the backrest, and she stared grumpily at the ceiling where the fan swirled the warm air around uselessly. The droning buzz of it only served to add to her irritation. "And why would you assume that?"

She heard Shikamaru shrug next to her. "It seemed like something you would indulge yourself in."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

The conversation fizzled out, both too lethargic to work their vocal cords. Ino was sure she was melting, and was glad Shikamaru wasn't tactless enough to point out that she looked like a tomato, with her face so flushed. She didn't think she had enough energy to hit him if he did, anyway.

The temperature was reportedly above one hundred Fahrenheit, hot enough to make a Popsicle melt in minutes, or the tub of ice-cream they had been eating turn to a liquidy mess before they had had enough. But warm ice-cream was not at all appetizing, so now the container lay abandoned on the coffee table.

Ino heard a sprinkler turn on next door, shortly followed by the sound of children splashing through the spray. She tried to imagine the cool drops of water raining down on her arms and legs, but all she could picture in her head was them evaporating centimeters before they touched her.

"Shika?" she began, then paused because she really, _really_ didn't feel like speaking anymore. It took way too much effort.

"Huh?" he asked finally, after she hadn't continued for a good minute.

"Y'wanna g'outside?" she slurred. Great, now making coherent sentences was a challenge.

"What?"

She tilted her head to the left, and her cheek stuck to the couch. "You wanna go outside? And turn on the sprinklers? And lie under them or something?" She had managed a whole three sentences, and was sure that she would never speak again.

Shikamaru blinked his brown eyes at her, looking every bit as reluctant to move as Ino felt herself.

"Is there a way to skip straight to the lying under them step?"

Her eyes drooped shut. "No." So much for turning mute.

"Then no."

"M'sure we'd be less hot if we di'n just sit here."

"I'm sure you're right. I just don't want to stand up."

"M'neither…"

The side of her face slipped a bit farther down the backrest of the couch, and she slumped over to the left uncomfortably.

"There is one plus," Shikamaru said after a pause. "You sound pretty hilarious when you start slurring your words together."

"Mmm," was the only answer Ino could supply. Her head drooped lower.

"Are you dying?"

"Mmm."

"Ah. Okay."

Ino let out a weak chuckle. Then resumed slouching over until her forehead met something solid and searing.

"Agh!" she exclaimed, and scrambled away from Shikamaru as though electrically shocked.

Shikamaru jumped from her sudden outburst. "Shit, what?! Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" He looked much more awake now, and was giving her an accusing glower, but Ino didn't pay attention to that.

She stared daggers at his shoulder, the tan skin exposed since his shirt sleeves were rolled back as far as possible. She could still feel his skin burning against her forehead, and didn't miss the fact that she didn't find it all _that_ bad of a feeling. But it was still pretty bad, because –

"God, Shika, you're like, _crazy_ hot!"

He sniggered, looking pleased, and Ino rolled her eyes exaggeratedly before fixing her eyes on his. "That's _not_ what I meant, and you know it. Try to control that ego of yours, please?"

"That's pretty hard to do when you compliment me like _that_. Not that I can blame you."

Ino gave him a look. One of _her_ looks. "Oh? Oh really? And what might _that_ mean?"

Shikamaru ticked them off on his fingers. "One, you find me unbearably attractive. Two, you just can't keep that attraction bottled up inside anymore, and can't help proclaiming your love to me. Three, –"

"Love?" Ino wrinkled her nose. Shikamaru smirked.

"Three," he continued, "you find me unbearably attractive."

Ino gave him a blank stare, waiting to see if he was finished, and when certain that he was indeed, said, "Well, your brain is obviously suffering from this heat wave, firstly because I have at no time proclaimed my love for you, and second because your one and three are exactly the same."

His eyes didn't leave hers. "So?"

"So," Ino sighed, "you plus extreme heat equals a slightly out-of-it Shika." She let herself relax back into her former position, back into the indentations her legs and back had made in the couch. The sticky cushions seemed to mold around her limbs, and slowly her eyes shut again.

"But I'm your extremely attractive slightly out-of-it Shika," Shikamaru said after a minute of the fan humming above them.

"_My_ extremely attractive Shika?" Ino couldn't stop the grin that bloomed across her lips. He really was too much.

"Yeah. Right?"

"Mm-hmm, right. Of course you are." She had meant to sound sarcastic, but wasn't able to completely accomplish that.

Shikamaru's fingers began to patter up Ino's arm, like scorching little bullets. They were light on her skin, but the after-effect left tingles. It left a kind of giddy feeling in her stomach as well, not her heart and not her gut but everything. Her insides. In her opinion, it was the single happiest feeling in the world.

"What are you doing?" she snapped jokingly, swatting his fingers away. He nimbly twisted his hand out of her grasp and enclosed his fingers around a few loose strands of her hair, and tugged gently.

"Shikamaru, stop it!" Ino giggled, the stifling heat and Shikamaru's irritatingly charming little gestures too much for her. It was the type of laughter when you couldn't tell if you were trying to be angry or happy; Ino just let herself laugh without trying to figure out which it was.

When her fit subsided, her shoulders no longer bouncing against the leather, she made a noise at the back of her throat and shook her head to no avail. Shikamaru wouldn't let go.

"Irritating person, hand me my water," she sighed.

"Why? So you can attack me with it?"

Ino pounded her fists against the cushion. "Just give it to meee." It was back to the giggles again. They erupted from her throat in continuous bubbles of sound.

"I think you're going crazier than I am," she heard Shikamaru laugh, but the cool surface of her glass of water was pressed against her arm a moment later. As soon as the layer of condensation touched her arm, the water trickled down, surprising her and causing her eyes to shoot open.

"Oh, cool, thanks," she said after she realized what it was. She took it from him, the condensation instantly making her hand slippery. "Didn't think you'd actually listen." She promptly overturned the glass of water over her head, soaking herself and much of the couch.

Shikamaru stared at her in a stunned silence. "What…?" he began to ask, but Ino placed the glass back on the table and slouched forwards.

"Okay, g'bye," Ino said, and with that she slid off the couch and landed in a heap on the floor. Her shorts and shirt had patches of water all over them, but that was absolutely fine because the carpet less hot and sticky than the accursed couch. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner?

"It's nice down here," she mumbled, placing a hand under her ear. "Nic_er_, I guess. Still pretty terrible, actually. Wish we had hardwood…"

She heard Shikamaru grunt something, heard a rustling noise, and then felt him land heavily on her legs.

"Ow! Get off!"

His arms were slung across both of her legs, and his head was resting on the side of one of her knees. Not exactly the most comfortable position – especially since they were both squished into the narrow space between the couch and the coffee table – but he seemed not to notice.

"Genius," he proclaimed. "Heat rises. All we have to do is lie on the ground and we'll be fine."

"Yeah, that's nice and all, but my legs are _not_ the ground." She wriggled her legs to prove her point, but Shikamaru didn't budge.

"Too tired," he yawned.

"You're cutting off my circulation."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Yes, if you don't get off."

"Mm, I'm fine being fat today."

"Shika."

"Hm?"

"_Shika."_

"What?"

"I'm warning you."

"What? I'm comfortable."

Ino rolled her eyes. "But you're too hot, so get off."

Shikamaru snickered. Ino slapped a palm to her forehead. "No, _not_ like that. Jeez, how do I live with you? Seriously…"

Shikamaru shifted, snuggling himself more comfortably into the awkward position he was in and wrapping his arms more snugly around Ino's shins. "'Night, Ino," he sighed, and then yawned again.

Ino let out a long breath through her nose. "Goodnight, my incredibly hopeless Shika. Even though it's only three in the afternoon…"

She did, however, fall asleep in the muggy heat of the day, thoughts drifting off slowly into unconsciousness as she listened to Shikamaru's slow, even breathing. When she woke up again, stars peppered the sky. She noticed this because the blinds had been pulled back from the window, which had been opened to let in the cool night air.

Night, which meant that her mother must have gotten back from work…how long ago? There was no clock in the room, so Ino pushed herself up onto her elbows to see if she could catch a sign of life in the house. Silence.

The table had been moved, miraculously without waking either of them, it seemed. Shikamaru was spread on his back a few feet away, still deeply asleep. Near his feet Ino noticed two pillows and a few blankets. Had her mother done all of this? She must have.

Her eyes were heavy; sleep still sounded like an appealing idea. Ino crawled over to the pillows and took one, placed it next to Shikamaru, and soon fell back asleep with her forehead against the warm skin of his shoulder.

* * *

**A/N:** Four more to go!


End file.
