"Do you own any nice clothes?" Shikako asked, pausing her assault on the flashcards she held to look across the couch at her boyfriend, not nearly as weird or terrifying as she'd initially thought, of two weeks.

"I have the kimono I wore for New Years." Sasuke pointed out over the pages of his book.

"I mean, something to wear to Mist." She amended pointedly. "To the wedding of a foreign dignitary."

Sasuke shrugged in response. "Theoretically. I haven't looked around yet but I'm sure my cousins had something."

Shikako considered her words before she spoke. "Why do you wear their clothes?" She asked. "Is it to memorialize them, or because you don't want to spend the money? Or is it just because you already have it all and you don't want to let it go to waste?"

He shrugged. "The last two, I guess. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to buy more clothes when all I had to do was open some boxes and run them through the wash once or twice. It's quicker and cheaper." He answered. "Why? Is there something wrong with them?"

"Its...its been almost eight years. I don't think you can wash the mothball smell out." Shikako admitted. "They aren't ugly or anything, they actually look good on you and when we were younger I agree with you, that it made sense. But we're being paid pretty well now, and I think you deserve not to have to go digging for clothes that have been sitting unused, in mothballs for an ever increasing amount of time. You have to be noticing that they are wearing out pretty quickly."

Sasuke leaned in to his shirt and sniffed.

"You don't smell awful." She reassured. "You smell more like the soap you use and the tea you drink more than anything else. But it is there, if I spend the time to pay attention, and I wouldn't exactly mind if that wasn't there anymore." Shikako continued apologetically.

"Okay." He sighed after a moment, letting his head collapse back onto the cushion. "You're right. But I at least am keeping my crest. Are they going to be able to put it on what I buy or should I get a sewing machine too?"

She rolled her eyes. "None of my stuff comes with my clan crest on it either. We get it added on later for a little extra cost. It's not that much when you get a bunch of stuff printed at once."

"Alright. I surrender. You can take me shopping."

Her lips quirked up into a smile. "I promise it won't be too bad. I'll take you on a date this time."

"Alright, let's handle the casual clothes first. What colors do you like?" Shikako asked, as she lead him through the doors of the shop and pulled him towards a rack of shirts organized by color. "I'm definitely thinking the darker ones, right?"

"Yeah, no yellow or orange or anything like that, please." he answered, lazily eyeing the selection of colors.

"You don't look good in any of those anyway." Shikako commented, wishing Ino was here with them. "Wouldn't be much of a date then though." "But you like blue, right?" She reached for his hand and held it against a teal shirt. She shook her head and put it back. "But not that blue."

He pulled a forest green shirt from the racks and held it up to her skin. "Now we'll match." He joked, tossing it and two others in the basket.

Shikako stuck her tongue out at him. "Ino will be delighted. Look at us, coordinating our outfits and everything."

He tossed a few darker grey shirts in as well. "You wear that a lot too."

Shikako punched him in the arm. "You can't just plagiarize me, those are all Nara colors."

"Well, you are family."

Shikako sighed. "Yeah, we are. Come on, let's get one more new color. And not black or blue, you already wear those a lot."

He tossed a few maroon shirts in the basket as well. "I'm gonna change my headband color to that as well. So...nice things?"

She sighed. "Well that didn't take as long as I would have liked." "The maroon is for your mom, right?" Shikako asked, as she led him by the hand to a selection of nicer shirts. "We can't do something dark for a wedding, so I'm thinking a nice white shirt and a vest. That okay?"

"Ino is your best friend, I'll do whatever you want, honey." He pointed out, hesitantly trying out another endearment.

Sasuke was….eager as a boyfriend. Eager to find new ways of showing her his affection as respectfully (overly cautious at times, in Shikako's most personal opinion) as he could, and not, at all, in ways she might have expected(feared). He brought her flowers at random times. He put extra effort into cooking things she liked, insisted on doing odd jobs or chores for her and, occasionally, he might try a new affectionate name. It was… unexpectedly in character of him, he was passionate and determined in other parts of his life, and while she expected him to be as enthusiastic in showing her how much he cared in this part of his life, their life, it wasn't always in the ways she had expected. And it, he, was kind of growing on her, if his goal was to make her feel like her cautious, risky step was thoroughly appreciated, and that her fears and concerns were being constantly considered, he had achieved it.

She sighed, "I like 'princess' better." She admitted, color rising to her cheeks to match the look on her best friend's face and the slight warmth she felt when he called her that. "Okay, tiger?"

"Oh absolutely." He drawled happily, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Shikako tossed a white button down shirt in his face. He sputtered."Go put that on." She ordered, pointing at the changing room. "Too much, too much, too much." She took a slow breath and exhaled equally slowly, pushing the all too intense feeling back until she was comfortable again. She started to peruse the colors and styles to try to find something to match him with. "Nothing dark, has to match pale skin, dark hair and a dark red headband. Cheerfully appropriate to a wedding."

She came up with a couple different colors by the time he came back. He flicked through them and put one of them back immediately.

"Not that color red, please." He requested.

'Why not?" She returned, frowning and holding it up to his shirt. "It'll look good on you and it's thematically appropriate. You should at least try it. What's wrong with it?"

"It reminds me of what Sakura usually wears." He answered uncomfortably after a moment.

She put it back in the rack.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable a minute ago. I didn't mean to." He apologized.

"I know." She said, shortly but not harshly. "It wasn't unpleasant, the way you made me feel. Just out of my comfort zone. And I'm not wanting to leave very far out of that yet. It's not your fault, you weren't trying anything. We're alright. " She patted him on the head. "Now go try those on. We have to make you look pretty for the wedding."

"...I hate you." He said in the driest, most sarcastic, most loving tone he could manage.

"We have a winner." She said as soon as he came out of the changing room.

"Yeah? I admit, I really like this one as well. I wouldn't have thought of it. But I like it." He agreed, looking down at the sky blue vest.

"You look great." Shikako reinforced, tugging the vest down and smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. "Very handsome. You should wear it more often." She requested, turning a little pink around the collar.

Sasuke blushed, "Thanks." He muttered.

She shook her head. "Ok. Let's pay for it and go. I want to make something new that I think you're gonna like, and we need to get some stuff to make it."

She paused. "On second thought…..We are going to Mist on a diplomatic mission. And rich people tend to like mixing business and pleasure. Do you own a swimming suit? If your answer is 'theoretically' or 'cut off blues' your answer is a 'no.'" She added.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

"Then go pick something that fits in a color you like. And then we can go grocery shopping." She said.

……….

Sasuke knows he's not the only one to notice these things about Shikako. Not the only one by far, and definitely not the first. In fact, by now, just about everyone in their tightest, littlest circle of friends has. They've all noticed these little….inconsistencies that Shikako will occasionally display when she's at her most relaxed, her most carefree, or, like now, when she's trying her best to let someone in a new level.

It wouldn't be too unusual, these scraps of songs no one's ever heard of, these quotes undoubtedly from authors never published, and now, this recipe from heaven no one's thought of yet but her, except for the simple fact that they are done with far too much confidence to be the delightful little quirks of an amazing, intelligent, loyal, encouraging friend they love.

Not that they weren't delightful little quirks, as far as Kiba, Ino, and Sasuke were concerned, and Sasuke suspects that Sakura feels the same. He thought absentmindedly as he watched Shikako layer tomato paste, shredded cheese, and slices of meat on top of unbaked, rolled out dough brushed with melted butter and minced garlic and place it in the oven.

They've known her their whole lives, in one state of closeness or another, and there's no reason to be suspicious. They trust her with their lives, so what's a few weird references to things that don't exist. They've seen weirder.

"How did you even come up with this?" He asks, amazed, because for something this simple, he knows it's going to blow his fucking mind. He knows he's not going to get a straight answer, he's not really expecting one, and he really doesn't care. But it'd be weird if he didn't ask.

She freezes for a moment, then shrugs. "You like tomatoes and savory things, so I thought it would be fun to come up with a new way to enjoy them."

"Well it's amazing and I love you." He guesses, cleaning the mess they made off the counter, cabinets, and walls. They got into a little flour fight when they were making the dough.

"You haven't even tried it yet." She argues.

"I know what all the ingredients taste like." He counters, pulling out the shogi board and laying it on the kitchen table. "Besides I've tasted your cooking before." "You're way too confident about this for it not to be good anyway."

She was quiet for a minute before responding "Thank you for your faith in me."

"What kind of friends would we be if I didn't?" He returned, taking her hand and squeezing it gently, knowing this was about far more than….whatever this dish was called. "What do you call this anyway?" He gestured to the oven before making his opening move.

"I don't have a name for it." She said honestly, walking around the table to pick up a chair and place it closer to him. She ignored the board. "Can we talk about something?" She asked simply, turning towards him and resting her head in her hand, and her elbow on the table.

"Anything." He agreed, assuming the same posture towards her.

She idly took his other hand in hers and interlaced her fingers with his, as she considered her words. "I really appreciate you being a gentleman in the way you're treating me. I didn't really expect anything less from you. But you've...you've suprised me." She started off slowly. "I expected you to be affectionate and enthusiastic and determined, you're a passionate person in the rest of your life. You're a hard worker, you rarely give up when you're set on something. I just didn't expect you to do all the romantic things you're doing, and I appreciate that. I expected you to be respectful of my concerns and boundaries and the fact that I'm wanting to go really slow while I get used to this." She took a breath. "But I didn't expect you to barely hug me or that holding hands was the most we would get up to. I appreciate your effort to respect my concerns, but…."

"I've gone a little too far the other way?" He finished for her.

She gave him a wry smile. "Yeah. I feel like we've hugged and, well, cuddled, honestly, more as friends than doing this." She lifted her head to point her hand from him to her. "I just want to make sure that you aren't afraid of asking me for physical contact." She said, squeezing his hand. "If you want to hug me or cuddle or whatever, ask. I might say no, but I'm not going to get offended as long as you aren't asking for something obviously out of line. You're my friend. I trust you to respect me and to not be a dick."

Sasuke blushed. "Can I play with your hair?" He blurted out, sheepishly. "Just, while we wait."

She looked like she was holding something back. "You like my hair?"

"Yesyesyesyesyes." "Yes." He stumbled out. "It's so long, and soft looking, it's like a river of silk down your back, even when it's all braided up and it's beautiful. And I promise I won't put knots in it. I just want to run my hands through it."

She burst out laughing. Great, heaving laughter until she was sobbing, like she had just heard the funniest thing in her life and he began to feel very betrayed until she gasped out. "Hahahaha, I'm sorry, I *hic* promise I'm not laughing *HIC* at you, hahaha, Sasuke." She gasped for air. "Oh it hurts." She laughed, hugging her arms around her ribs. "It's just that, hahahahaha, when we were in school. Pffft hahahaha all the girls, used, used to talk about how you like long hair." She giggled, fighting her laughter down until she could breath. "And everybody said that you'd ask out whoever's had the longest, prettiest hair. And I never *HIC* would have expected that to be true."

He felt the giggles rising up in him too. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He answered. "Who started that!?" He asked.

"I don't know?! It's a school rumor, nobody starts those!" She insisted. She took a big breath and sighed. She smiled. "Yes." She answered. She stood up from her chair and paused. "Can I sit on your knees and lean into you while you play with my hair?" She asked. "It'd be a bit more comfortable for me."

He pushed his chair away from the table and nodded, eyes wide. "Of course."

She sat down on his knees, both legs to one side, and leaned her shoulder across his chest into his shoulder, her jaw on his collarbone. She wrapped her left arm around his neck and relaxed.

Sasuke hesitantly wrapped his arm around her waist and began gently undoing her bing his fingers through her hair, beginning at the top and trailing down to the center of her back until it all unwound. When it was, he continued.

"You're good at this." She commented after a few minutes. "You could put me to sleep doing this." She elaborated, struggling to keep her eyes open. "How long until the flatbread comes out?"

He shrugged under her. "We have a few more minutes. Thank you, I'm glad I'm doing this ok."

"Do you like your hair played with?" She asked. " I notice you running your hand up the back of your head all the time through your hair. Would you want me to play with yours?"

He was quiet for a moment before he whispered into her ear. "Please."

She obliged, running her fingers up through his hair at the back of his head, combing it up the wrong way. "You know that you doing this so much makes the back of your head look like a duck's butt right?"

"I didn't actually." Sasuke said dryly.

"I mean, clearly it doesn't look too bad. But it is kinda funny."

He huffed into her hair. "Your hands feel really good there."

"So do yours." She returned.

As though to thwart them both, the oven beeped the end of the timer.

Shikako got up, keeping her hands on his shoulders to keep him in the chair. "I'll get it." She said firmly, walking over to the oven and grabbing a few rags to protect her hands as she removed the sheet from the oven. She frowned.

"Sasuke," she asked. "Can I use your sword to cut this up? I promise to clean it when I'm done."

"The ANBU one is in the third scroll to the left in the night stand." He answered, puzzled.

She went and retrieved it and used the long, curved blade to cut the flatbread creation into eight triangular pieces. "Leave it to cool off a few minutes." She told him. "I'll take care of this real quick." she gestured with the sword.

He nodded. "You know where the maintenance kit is. What do you want to drink?"

"Just ice water, thanks." Shikako tossed over her shoulder.

When she came back, she placed the sheet on the table and picked up one of the triangles by the exposed dough around the edge and took a bite, leaning up against him and letting out a contented sigh, relaxing into the taste like the comfort of an old friend.

Sasuke completely agreed. The explosion of hot tomato sauce, garlic, and savory meat and cheese was far, far better than he had anticipated. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "Shikako, thank you for opening my eyes." He joked. "I've got a new favorite food now.

She grinned. "See, I'm not crazy after all."

He snorted. "Yes you are. You're the best kind of crazy." He tapped her on the nose with another slice, leaving a small dab of the sauce on her face.

She wrinkled her nose.

"May I clean that off?" Sasuke apologized.

She looked up at him, a very dry, knowing look in her eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Very smooth, but not today." She tapped him back with her own slice.

...

Alright. Here it is. I hope ya'll enjoyed it.

Please forgive any formatting weirdness. I'm posting this on mobile, I'll fix it when I get back to civilization, and my laptop. I basically wrote all of this during Annual Training over the past three weeks.

Leave reviews and constructive criticism. Shout out to my fellow Shikasuke writer Faerielight and her story "Here there be Dragons." It's fucking amazing and it's both inspired me to finish this chapter quicker and lifted my spirits here in this hellscape known as Camp Shelby, Mississippi.