A/N: Whoo! A whole oneshot in one day! Seriously, this just hit me this morning, and now I'm posting it in the evening.

Anyway, enjoy this cute little family-bonding fic!

Morning Surprise

It was a beautiful morning in Suna.

The sun was on the rise, reflecting off the pale sands of the horizon, and alighting the distance with a fiery montage of golds and reds and all the colors in between.

Temari woke with the sun, as its beams brushed across her face, banishing the cold of the desert night.

The sun rose early in Wind country. In the flat landscape of the desert, the second the sun appeared on the horizon, the entire place lit up.

Temari yawned, stretching her arms above her head so her fingers bumped the headboard.

It was a new day.

And there was lots of work to do.

She shifted to roll over and out of bed, but halted as the weight on her side shifted as well, holding her tighter.

There was someone in bed with her.

She wracked her brains, trying to remember anything from last night that could have led to this.

It wasn't like she had never woken up to someone next to her. However, Shikamaru wasn't in town, so it couldn't have been another case of his casual, lazy sex, and she was quite sure she couldn't have gotten drunk enough to sleep with a stranger.

She peeked her eyes open, hoping to Kami she hadn't made a huge mistake.

Paying attention now, she could feel the slow rhythm of a ribcage expanding and relaxing against her own, and the tight grip on her sides that had kept her from rolling over.

Getting the sense that whoever her partner was was still fast asleep, she slowly pulled her sheets back, so as not to wake the person.

She first got a glimpse of vibrant, unruly hair, a shade of such a deep crimson that she nearly mistook it for blood. The she saw his face.

Temari froze, getting even more scared of the possible consequences of this scenario. Even after all these years, it was a hard habit to break.

With his cheek pressing into her breast, his superbly mussed hair curling into his face, his lips slightly parted, and his dangerous gaze hidden behind velvety black lids, he looked...

Dead to the world.

It was said that even the most vicious characters could turn angelic in their sleep. However, he just looked... like he didn't plan on waking up for a year or so. He didn't even look very peaceful. His brow was furrowed, looking strange on his slack face, and the strength with which his fingers were digging into her ribs conveyed just how unpeaceful his slumber was.

But... this was certainly the most restful she had ever seen him. While he was alive, at least.

However, back to the problem at hand, why was Gaara in bed with her?

She wouldn't even let her mind touch on the possible reason she had been thinking of before— before she found her baby brother was the one in her bed. Because there was no way she had participated in any sort of incestuous relationship— no matter how drunk she had been, and especially considering Gaara.

However, she couldn't think of any other reason, considering she couldn't remember how he had got there.

At least, thank heavens, they were both fully dressed. Almost too dressed, she realized as the desert day's heat was already beginning.

"Mm..." she stiffened as Gaara shifted, his hands digging in almost painfully before relaxing, and his eyes drifted open.

She watched, with a sort of paralyzed fascination, as hazy teal considered the opposite mound of her breast, which blocked his vision, as his face was cushioned on the other. The his gaze slowly moved upward, until Temari's wide powder blues met exhausted sea foam greens.

They stared at each other for several moments, as Gaara blinked slowly and swallowed, trying to bring moisture back to his dry mouth.

"Good morning," he finally said, apparently unaware of the awkward timing, as their silence had already lasted at least a minute. His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep; Temari relaxed a little upon realizing Kankurou often hosted the same rasp right after waking. She wasn't sure why, but that comforted her.

"Um... hi..."

"Hm..." Gaara's eyes drifted shut again, and he turned his face from the sunlight.

Temari grunted in surprise as this entailed having Gaara's face hiding in the valley between her breasts.

She had to slow her breathing, lest the increased rise and fall of her chest disturb the redhead lying on it. Several more quiet moments passed, and Temari realized Gaara intended to sleep longer. With her present, too, according to the almost desperate grasp his fingers were still digging into her sides.

"Um... Gaara?"

No response.

"Uh... hello? Are you awake?"

She flinched as she got an annoyed growl in reply.

But he didn't move beyond that, and Temari couldn't even spot a speck of agitated sand.

She was afraid to disturb him any further, but she was quickly becoming uncomfortable. It wasn't like he was very heavy, even draped as he was over her side— he was much too light in fact, she was reminded anew of her recent campaign to make him eat more— but he was definitely very warm.

In the surprisingly icy Suna nights, that warmth would have been welcome. However, with the sun already climbing in the sky, the desert was quickly heating up.

And she had to pee. But more importantly, her heightening curiosity was threatening to overtake her actions.

She poked his head.

He grunted half-heartedly, but otherwise remained docile.

He didn't seem to be in a violent mood. Just... tired.

Shukaku had been removed about three months ago, taking away the danger of sleep for the red-haired Jinchuuriki. However, Gaara had not been very keen on taking advantage of the new freedom. Unfortunately, without a demon to make up for the damage done to his body by insomnia, Gaara could not keep functioning as he normally did. It was simply a physical impossibility.

So, refusing to go to sleep by will, and unable to hold to that, Gaara started a pattern. A pattern doctors had urged them to help him break, but Gaara, as stubborn as he was, would not change.

He worked; just as he had before Shukaku had been taken. He worked for as long as he could, doing paperwork until there was nothing left to do, and then he found more. The he passed out.

The first time this had happened, it had caused a bit of an uproar in the Kazekage office. But it soon became a familiar scene to find the leader of Suna draped across his desk in a dead faint every couple of days.

He always woke up kicking and screaming like his nightmares were chasing him into the waking world. Then he'd go right back to work again, despite the pleading of the doctors and his siblings.

Nothing could keep Sabaku no Gaara from his paperwork.

Which begged the question, what was he doing in Temari's bed?

She poked him again, and he didn't even flinch this time.

His hair was... fluffy! She had never felt her littlest brother's hair before, but it was practically the softest thing she'd ever felt.

Holding back a girlish giggle, she dug her fingers into the mass of loose crimson curls.

Gaara's hair was practically heavenly. It was angel-fine, almost like an infant's hair, and thick. She soon found that underneath the visible mass of haphazard crimson spikes, was a mess of even tighter curls, a shade darker than the end exposed to the harsh Suna sun.

She was a little jealous, that her brother, of all people, could have such hair, while she had to deal with her impossible wiry mess, which only looked tame in four retraining ponytails, unable to manage even just a one.

Gaara made a rumbling sound again, and Temari stilled, wondering if she had crossed a line.

He lifted his head, giving her a slightly miffed look. "Why'd you stop?"

"O-oh, I thought..." she started gently scratching his scalp again, which apparently pleased him, and Gaara let his face fall back into her cleavage.

She heaved a sigh, partly from tension, and partly from relief. Gaara's wants and needs were unpredictable sometimes. One day he'd hiss at you if you got too close, and another, weakened by exhaustion or just by whim, he'd randomly hug you if you got too close.

Granted, that was a huge improvement over his personality of three years ago, but it was still incredibly disconcerting.

"Sooo... remind me, why are you in my bed?"

"Mmm... stop talking."

"Hey! This is my bed, so I can talk if I like!" Gaara's decidedly non-hostile demeanor had given her courage to act according to her usual character.

Gaara lifted his head again to fix her with a glare. "I'm trying to sleep."

"I thought you didn't like to sleep?"

Gaara buried his face in her breastbone with a sullen mumble.

"What was that?" she prompted.

"I'm TRYing to SLEep."

"Oh, so you changed your mind, huh?"

"Hn."

"Was that a 'yes'?"

"Yeeeessss."

Temari chuckled, ruffling his hair and tangling her fingers in it in the process. "So, what made you change your mind?"

"Nuthing."

"Nothing. Really."

"Hn."

"Really? I don't believe you."

Gaara growled, and Temari rubbed his scalp harder as consolation.

"You were so adamant before, to not sleep, and now, here you are, snarling at me because you want to sleep. I refuse to believe you just changed your mind on a whim." Actually, it wasn't that implausible. Gaara, nonviolent or not, Shukaku or not, was prone to unpredictable moods. It was very possible that he had simply changed his mind because he felt like it. He tended to be variable like that.

But Gaara, surprisingly enough, actually seemed to intend to reply. He lifted his head just enough to peek at her through his curly bangs, an unusually pensive look in his eyes. "I had a heart attack."

"WHAAAT?"

"Wah!" Only Gaara's weight stopped Temari from snapping upright.

"When did this happen? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..."

"Why didn't you go to the hospital? No— wake me up! I would have taken you to the hospital! Wait— did you really have a heart attack? You're so young! But the doctors did say that could happen—"

"Temari!"

"Gaara! The doctors said this would happen! The body can't take the stress of not sleeping for a long time. Wait! Did you really have a heart attack, or did you think you had one?"

Gaara glared. "It was a heart attack."

"Have you ever had a heart attack before?"

The redhead sunk back into her cleavage, averting his eyes. "Maybe..."

Temari smirked. She did not doubt that he had definitely had a scare, but they had quickly learned, after Gaara's sand armor was no longer automatic, that he tended to exaggerate physical ailments. However, she wasn't about to discourage him, now that he was finally willing to do something good for his health. "Well, I think it's definitely a good idea. Did you sleep well?"

He glanced up at her, then away. "... It was easier..."

"Hm?"

"... with you."

Temari grinned. "Ah! I was wondering why you'd chosen my bed to climb into."

Gaara's brow furrowed. "Well, I went to Kankurou's first, but he grabbed my behind and called me, 'honey.' Besides, you're cushier."

Temari blinked. No, she would not ask about what had happened in Kankurou's bed. She just didn't want to know. But she'd have to kick him in the face later for violating their little brother, whether it was a conscious action or not.

Then she registered his last comment. "Cushier?"

Gaara blinked at the sudden danger in Temari's tone. "... Is that bad?"

All the righteous woman's-virtue-protecting anger left her at Gaara's perfectly innocent face. What was she thinking? Gaara was as naïve as they come when it came to even the lightest sexual topic.

"Gaara..." she sighed. She realized now just how absurd she had been to think she had made a 'mistake' with her brother earlier. After all, the last time Kankurou had brought his vulgar sexual interests to the dinner table, Gaara had thrown him out the window— and only because the puppet-nin had been upsetting Temari.

It was strange to think it, but Gaara was almost childish when it came to such things.

"I'm just a giant pillow to you, aren't I?"

"Mm... no, you're my sister." Gaara gave her a perturbed look, as if she had to be crazy to ask such a thing.

Temari grinned, glad that Gaara was comfortable enough now to use such terms. Just a couple years ago would have been a different story. But his sense of humor still needed work.

She buried her fingers in that heavenly hair again, and Gaara's eyes drooped under the caress. "How do you feel now?"

"Mm."

"Gaara?"

"Quiet. I'm sleeping."

She snorted. "I have to get up, you know."

"No, you don't."

"Gaara—"

"The Kazekage has given you a mission: stay in bed."

"Hey! You can't do that!"

"I just did. Now, the other part of the mission is to be quiet. Do you want to fail? The health of the Kazekage depends on you." From anyone else, Temari may have thought his was a joke.

But Gaara was dead serious.

Once Gaara decided he wanted to sleep, they had a new problem. He wouldn't do anything but sleep.

He had reached a new extreme.

He slept until he couldn't sleep anymore, and he demanded the presence of at least one of his siblings at all times while he slumbered, or else he'd be woken by nightmares.

Well, at least the doctors were happy.

And while Kankurou, after the initial incident, who was only allowed to get the day shift with Gaara, when he couldn't sleep and had other things to do, complained nonstop. However, Temari had to admit her new Teddy Bear, self-heated and soft to the touch, wasn't all that unwelcome.