They both collapsed back onto the sheets, satiated and breathless. She nestled herself into him, head tucked into the crook of his neck, hand lying in a partial fist against his sweaty chest. She loved these quiet moments where they simply lay together, completely content, listening to each other's heartbeats.

She did not love him disentangling himself from her momentarily to reach for the pack in his bedside drawer.

She sighed, drawing herself up slightly in the bed. "You've gotta quit that habit of yours someday, you know."

He held the cigarette precariously between his lips as he lit it. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered airily, exhaling a wispy plume of tobacco smoke.

"I can't stand the smell," she groaned. "And you always smoke after sex. Am I not all the satisfaction you need?"

"Of course you are, troublesome woman," he smirked, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She only allowed him a quick peck before she backed off.

"You think I'm gonna kiss you when you taste like an ashtray?"

"Never stopped you before."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "I grit my teeth through it most of the time. But not once have I permitted any tongue action after you've just taken a drag."

He thought about it for a moment. "Huh. Guess we've gotta change that," he said cheekily, moving towards her once more.

She leaned in under the pretence she was meeting him halfway, only to swipe the cigarette from his fingers as their faces were less than two inches apart. She grinned, eyes sultry and dangerous, waiting for him to realise.

"Oi! Don't throw it away, these are the nice ones."

"I'll do no such thing, don't you fret," she winked as she moved the cigarette closer to her mouth.

He sat back slightly. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice suddenly anxious.

"What does it look like?" she smiled innocently, sliding it between her lips. "Having a smoke."

"W-what?" he replied in disbelief. "You can't do that-"

"Too late," she chuckled, breathing out a smooth cloud of chemicals.

"Since when did you smoke?"

"Actually, this is the first time," she said breezily, taking another puff.

"I thought you couldn't stand it," he commented, confused as to why she wasn't coughing or spluttering as everyone did the first time. No, he was more confused that she was partaking in the activity at all. He knew for a fact that she hated the habit. What had gotten into her all of a sudden?

"I can't," she laughed, twisting around to tap off the ash in the earring dish she kept on her nightstand. "Guess you could say I learnt from the best. If you're gonna do it, so will I."

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're...you," he mumbled, unable to form an argument. "And it's...not good for you."

"Never stopped you before," she smirked, echoing his earlier words.

"That's different," he insisted. She looked at him apathetically, continuing to smoke as he talked. "What if you're pregnant, and we just don't know it yet? You could be killing our unborn baby right now!"

"Relax, idiot," she muttered. "I took my pill this morning. No Nara kids will be popping out of me anytime soon."

"Because they'll have died from smoke inhalation!"

"Why's it such a big deal to you? I've been breathing in your second-hand smoke for years and I never saw you make any attempt to prevent that."

"I'm a lost cause," he said sheepishly. "But you...someone as beautiful and healthy and vivacious as you shouldn't smoke."

The cigarette was shortening significantly in her slender fingers. She brought it to her lips once more. "Look in the mirror and tell yourself that, genius-"

"Fine, I'll quit!" he snapped, snatching it away from her and dropping it in the glass of water on his bedside table. "God, Tem, you're so damn stubborn sometimes."

"I have to be," she shrugged, then put a hand against his face affectionately. "I want to see you live a few more years, Shikamaru."

"Is that so?" he grinned.

"Well, what if a Nara kid did pop out of me sometime in the future? I want you there, Shikamaru. I want you to watch that kid grow up, and watch however many other kids we have grow up, and be there for all the big moments, and yell at our son when you find his secret cigarette stash and walk our daughter down the aisle. Because if you leave me to handle all of that by myself, I swear to God I will-"

He interrupted her with his lips on hers. It was tender and sweet, like they were teenagers again.

"What was that for?" she asked curiously.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"It was painful to watch you smoke," he admitted. "It was like watching you damage yourself: those beautiful, functional lungs of yours; that knowing smile; those bright, brilliant eyes. I hated it. That cigarette was taking my Temari away from me. It was taking our future away from me...kids included."

"Ah. So you finally know how I feel," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Mm," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers again. "Oh, and one more thing."

"What?"

"You taste like an ashtray," he smirked.