Title: Contrary To Popular Belief

Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just the idea.
Spoilers: None
Summary: One shot. Before the birth of their second child, Temari and Shikamaru make their way to Suna. ShikaTema.

This is my very first Anime fic. And of course, I had to pick the two most difficult characters to right, 'cause generally, I'm not a particularily lazy, or overbearing person.

OOCness.

Was originally going to be for RamaChan's Baby Contest on DeviantArt, but I started late (didnt even sign up), wherein this taking forever to write. And since this wasnt finished on time, I decided to forgo a few stipulations. So more of a random bito'fluff. Credit to RamaChan for the use of Hatsune's name.

"- and that was how Uncle Kankuro defeated the evil Sound Ninja," said uncle, and said five chakra-stringed Marionette flourished around in a dramatic head-to-floor bow.

Ruckus applause and 'ooh's, and 'ah's of appreciation echoed in his mind, but unfortunately, that was the only place they were forming, as upon rising from his bent over position, a very unenthused and snoozing audience met his purple encased eyes.

Across from him in an aged highchair sat his audience of one, completely engrossed by the insides of her eyelids, head resting against her right cheek.

The Puppet Master rolled his eyes, and shook his head scornfully. "Man, why can't she be more like you?" Kankuro huffed to the woman behind him in the living room, while storing the four (Kiba, Akamaru, himself, and Sound) mini puppets in a satchel, "You at least pretend to listen to me."

"Why pretend?" Four tufts of hair followed a shaking head, as the toddler's mother smirked at her younger brother from her location on the sofa.

Kankuro slouched down in a chair beside the sleeping youngster, sighing dramatically. "Ah, remember the days when I was a respected?" to really no one in particular.

"Nope," Temari chided, her back propped comfortable at one end of the couch, her feet at the other, legs splayed an appropriate amount for the maximum comfort of her 8 month pregnant belly. Scratching her nose with a pen, she continued sifting thought the Puppeteers missions report. Hard to believe her brilliant Shinobi of a brother failed to grasp the simplicity of punctuation.

"Ha, ha, you're a riot," Kankuro quipped, reaching out to play with a stuffed dog Uncle Kiba had given to the child at her birth.

"Thank you," Temari deadpanned, dotting an 'i' and adding a comma, "I'll be here all day."

How true that was.

With continuing Alliances between the two villages, Sand and Leaf would often join forces in attack planning or defensive strategies. Today Shikamaru, Leaf liaison, and Konoha strategist was in a lengthy meeting with Gaara and his council (minus Kankuro with broken ribs from a bad mission) regarding a missing s-class nin from Cloud country with connections to the few remaining Akatsuki members.

The meeting had started shortly after they arrived yesterday, and resumed after a night reprieve this morning, leaving Temari and 2 year old Hatsune in the company of Uncle Kankuro, who was ecstatic to spend his free downtime with his niece.

So far her visit to Suna had been both a pleasant holiday and living hell. Being an 8 month bloated whale, she couldn't exactly get around easily (the journey to Suna had taken an extra day itself), and as training had been forbidden by all Hokage, Kazekage, and Shikamaru months in, she had little to do with her time but fill out reports, or grade academy papers for her joint training program with her husband. Don't get her wrong, she loved being pregnant and absolutely loved being back home, where the sand got everywhere and sun never stopped, but seriously, what else can you do when you waddle everywhere, and have to stay a foot away from everything?

All-in-all, her second pregnancy had been much better than her first, but she assumed this had more to do with the fact that she actually knew what to expect, than the chunky brew that that Rock Lee fellow, and his Sensei had forced her to chug down to fulfill a 'youthful and blossoming' pregnancy. Although the concoction was disgusting and putrid in everyway imaginable, it did happen to do what it was said to do. It seemed one day she had a slight bump, the next her feet vanished. Blossomed, she sure did.

But she wasn't complaining. Unlike some woman who hated what pregnancy did to their body, Temari reveled in it, completely happy with the life inside of her, and what it meant.

Being the sister of Gaara, and the daughter of particularly bad parents, pregnancy had not really crossed her mind in her younger days. Kids were whinny, yappy, bawling vessels of bodily fluids that eventually grew up to be disrespectful, unruly, disasters who would rather forget you than spend time with mother dearest. Not that all kids were like that, but knowing her luck, that's how they would turn out. Of course, that was with a Suna Shinobi as a husband.

It wasn't until her 18th year that her view on a no Sabaku spawn would change, 3 years after she met her future husband. No, it wasn't love at first sight, nor was he the man of her dreams or any pitiful phrase like that, but somewhere between the first encounter with him at the Chuunin exams, and the 8th or 9th kiss, she knew her view would change.

Despite his outward appearance as being Konoha's (and any other village's) laziest Ninja, he was an incredibly gifted man. Yeah, his initiative needed work, but his skills as a Shinobi were flawless, his loyalty was pure, his brain, quite frankly, was a turn on, and let's face it, he wasn't hard to look at.

The first time she saw him, he was an obstacle to overcome; after that she wasn't quiet sure where he fit.

He just did.

"What are you smiling at?"

Temari blinked, not looking at her brother. She hadn't realized she wasn't paying attention. She shook her head. "Mind your own business.'

Kankuro rolled his eyes, amused at his sister's antics. She thinks no one notices, but that smile only appears when she's thinking about her husband and kids. Marriage has softened her, if only slightly, but she can still lay a beating on him.

Relieved that her little brother didn't question her further, she continued scanning his notes, ever so often toeing the pant leg on a pair of blue Jounin slacks. She didn't normally wear pants, but she had taken to donning a pair of Shikamaru's during the later stages of both her pregnancies. They were less constricting than her typical wears, and loose and baggy enough to accommodate her growing form. Shikamaru also noted on several occasions that he preferred her in his clothes, (or out) than himself. Displaying his Clan emblem was the closest he was willing to get to any form of possessiveness (although he'd never say it allowed), and even though Temari wore his family symbol on her clothing, there was something akin to pride, (or lust) to see her in his Jounin uniform, or wearing his boxers and t-shirt as her nightwear.

A slight pressure in her abdomen tore her concentration away from the mass of papers on her stomach. Reaching a hand down, she gently rubbed her belly, hoping to soothe the agitated youngest. Although she was used to the slight disturbance from her first bout of motherhood, for the past week or so, the offspring seemed to be more out of sorts than usual. At first she wasn't alarmed, but as more kicks than necessary arose, and slight pain twinged at the protuberance, she feared that something might be wrong. Scheduling an appointment with Sakura, she feared for the worst. The tests, however, appeared to be all normal, and with a healthy prognosis for both her and the baby, Temari was assured that the child was just preparing for delivery, and that there was nothing to worry about. So when Shikamaru was given a mission to assist Suna, they made the trek for the Village Hidden in the Sand. Being in her 8th month, traveling passed that would be virtually impossible.

A gurgle from across the room brought her attention from the perturbed life within her. Turning her head in the direction of the noise, aqua eyes fell upon her dozing toddler, head now down, resting her forearms on the highchair table.

"Hand her over," Temari said, removing the papers on her stomach, and inserting her pen into one of her spikes.

"But she's sleeping," Kankuro pointed out; weary of waking the child for fear of inheriting both Shikamaru and Temari's grumpy dispositions upon waking.

"She's a Nara. Nothing short of a paper bomb could wake her. She's her father, her grandfather, and every other Nara before her all over again."

"You sure?" her bother asked, still fearful of the almost two year old.

"Of course, I'm sure."

True to her word, the child didn't so much as coo when her uncle picked her up, carried her over to the couch, and placed her in her mothers open arms, Temari resting the toddler's head on her shoulder, legs spread around a growing belly.

Temari gently stroked Hatsune's back with her left, while the right tucked securely under her bottom. Hatsune's, even though dead to the world, seemed to register her change in location, and snuggled further into her mother's warmth. Again, a smile lit the Konoichi's features.

Back at his seat in the dinning room, Kankuro scoffed, "Total momma's girl."

"Nuh uh," the duel citizenshipped Ninja shook her head, "got her daddy wrapped around her finger."

Kankuro nodded. From what he'd witnessed, Shikamaru certainly liked to dote on and indulge his little girl. Nothing was too troublesome, or too much of a bother when it came to the tyke. Bath time, nap time, feeding time, playtime; even his own nap time revolved around her. According to Temari, if Shikamaru wasn't at work, father and daughter could be found on the floor in the living room, sound asleep, Hatsune snoozing comfortably on her father's chest, toys scattered in a 4 foot radius.

"Just like her mother, eh", a voice from the doorway spoke, before either could respond. Turning to the open door, Kankuro snickered at the whipped Shadow User, looking a mixture between boredom (which was customary), and relief.

"Look who it is," the Sand Shinobi greeted with a nod toward his brother-in-law. Shikamaru returned the courteously, removed his shoes, and padded toward the couch where his wife and child (children) lay. Supporting himself with a hand on the back of the sofa, with the other on the armrest, the Nara gently kissed his daughter's temple, before briefly brushing his lips to Temari's, savoring the softness he'd been denied for the better part of two days.

Kankuro crinkled his nose. It was odd to see them openly affectionate with each other. The first time he was them holding hands, he had to take a second and third look, the first time he saw them kiss, he was shocked (and somewhat disgusted) to see his sister clearly enjoying such a display of emotion, even now, after 6 years of marriage, with a child, and another on the way, it's still odd to see his arm around her, or her playing with the loose ends of his ponytail. But somehow, it works with them. He couldn't picture Temari being this way with anyone, and he most certainly couldn't picture anyone else as a brother-in-law, even if that Samurai from the Rock was in awe of his puppetry skills.

"Hi," Temari greeted her husband, in what Kankuro, quite disgustedly determined to be the most wistful voice he had ever heard coming from his tomboyish sister.

Oh, there's that smile again.

"Hey," Shika replied, moving to the other end of the couch to lift her legs, before replacing them on his lap when he sat down.

Too quickly for Shikamaru's taste, the novelty wore off upon seeing her husband, and the Temari Kankuro knew emerged.

"It's about time you got back. What's so important that takes two days to discuss?"

The Leaf Nin shrugged, running a hand underneath her pant leg to caress the smooth, lightly muscled flesh of her shin and calf.

"Don't look at me, woman," to which he earned a heel dug into his thigh. "Your elders were the ones talking." He wasn't going to tell her that he did his fair share pointing out flaws and advantages to predetermined plans. He might have married into the country, but Temari would still scold him for showing up her home village. Though that one time when he outwitted a codgery (but respected) council member about a bad trade with Amegakure, she had never of been prouder. She had let him know how much later.

"Oh, shut up about my elders," Temari half-heartedly berated, "I know for a fact that you stuck your Konoha nose into everything. You can't help yourself. You always have to be the brainiac." Shikamaru rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't have to tell her; she already knew how he worked.

"Gee, Temari," Kankuro laughed, finally speaking after some time of watching the couple, "Sound like someone else you know?"

Temari glared at her brother, then turned back to her husband, who had his head resting on the back of the couch, hand making small circles on her now exposed calf with a thumb.

Temari shoved him in the thigh again with her heel, bringing his attention back to her, "So what was so important that I wasn't allowed in on?" she said quite bitterly.

Upon hearing that Shikamaru had been requested to Suna, she had hoped she could be made useful in the discussions and actually take part in any council affair, as in Konoha she had been excluded from some pretty high-ranking discussions due to her condition. Temari hated that word. She was pregnant; not dead. Sure, she couldn't do most physical aspects that Ninja life required if she weren't sperminated (as Kiba once made the mistake of calling it), but her mouth and brain worked fine. She was still a Jounin, and therefore, smarter than half the population of Konoha and Suna. She was also experienced, and with nowhow and understanding of most, if not all, tactical moves, she could still be a valuable asset.

Apparently not.

She had been told to rest, and not exert herself. Apparently meetings would be too strenuous.

With her elimination from most discussions, Temari had be quite …temperamental (to put it politely) for the past month, even without the pregnancy hormones. It got so bad that Shika, begrudgingly, had put in a request to the Hokage to include her (and that was one humiliating life experience that he wish not repeat).

Temari had been ecstatic to feel like a Ninja, instead of a housewife, again, but that changed, yet again, when the meetings became long, and her body began to ache.

Unfortunately, this also coincided with the stage in pregnancy that every man waits for…except the only man who could do anything about her increasing…urges. In the privacy of their home, it was welcome, but at meetings with elite Jounin, council elders (who usually frowned on such lewd behavior), and Hokage present, a leg running up your thigh, or pouty lips, wasn't exactly what you wanted to be thinking about at that time. Even after these stages have passed, Kakashi still smirks at him from behind that mask.

Shikamaru shrugged non-committedly, answering her previous question, "Missions, security, trade deals, Chuunin exams; in no particular order."

Temari glared at him, but let the subject slide. He'd tell her, by force or not, one way or another. After all, she knew his weak spots; right behind the ear, or just below his collarbone.

"From what Gaara told me yesterday" Kankuro inserted into the conversation, "he's hoping to increase our alliance with you Konoha folk", nodding at Shikamaru, "through further cooperation; involving both our villages in more allied negotiations." Once finished his spiel, he was amused to see both his sister and Shikamaru roll their eyes in unison. Sometimes it was freaky how much they acted alike.

"Basically," Temari added running her fingers through her daughter's dark hair, "since we're allies, it's best if we clue in each other on how things are done."

"Hn," Shikamaru nodded, moving his hands to massage his wife's feet and pregnancy induced swollen ankles.

"A bunch of dribble if you ask me."

Temari glanced at her brother before reclining her head, taking in the comforting pressure on her feet, and the deep breathing of her child on her chest.

"It's politics. It's all about dribble."

Kankuro chuckled, while Shikamaru just smirked, eyelids fluttering closed.

It was nap time.

Hours later

From beyond the borders, sand whipped across the land; dirt devils making a formidable overpass to any would-be trespasser.

Dressed in an oversized nightshirt, Temari stood at the door to her Suna balcony waching grains of sand sift across the ebony sky, contemplating the day's events.

Dinner had been a pleasant affair. The attendants had made a delicious meal, and even Gaara who was always swamped with Kazekage duties, made an appearance, if not for his sister's sake, than an excuse to see his niece.

Hatsune, rejuvenated from her all afternoon nap, happily made conversation with anyone who would listen. She playfully babbled about the paper shurikens she had made with Neji and Tenten's daughter, Hyuuga Hitomi (pupil of the eye; for exceptionally beautiful eyes) in Konoha, or about the deer offspring grandpa had taken her to see, hours after it was born. She even made a point to invite her uncles to her birthday party in the coming month. Both said they'd make an effort to attend, Gaara even going so far as to ask what the birthday girl would want, to which she excitedly said a green spandex suit, like Uncle Lee. Both her parents subtly banished that idea.

Hours after her brothers had left, Temari stood at the balcony window, surveying the grounds she used to call home. The night air was cooler from what she was now used to in Konoha, but the cloudless, dry air gave her a sense of deju vu, in which she couldn't help but smile.

"You know," a groggy voice from behind her said, "people are generally sleeping this time of night." Temari didn't bother turning toward the bleary-eyed Nin. The old her would have been greatly surprised that he had went through the trouble of joining her, but quickly into their relationship, she discovered, among other things, that went it came to her, he wasn't so lazy, dare she say, even sought out her company.

"Since when have I been put into the category of the general public?"

Shikamaru smirked lazily before pushing off the doorframe he was leaning on, and advancing towards her. Once in her sphere, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, while she leaned back into the broadness of chis chest.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't as lethargic as he made himself out to be (hence the rank of Jounin), while she wasn't the cold hearted terror that everyone claimed (hence the two children, and a devoted, if slightly whipped, husband). Yes, they still had their moments of true characterizations, but more often than not, she could be seen lounging under the Konoha sky, while he could be found barking orders at an unruly crop of Genin. How they managed to pick up each other traits was bizarre, which was both quite disconcerting to Temari's brothers, and a reason to celebrate with Nara Yoshino.

Even now, Temari was the one gazing dazedly at the night sky, while Shika rose from his slumber to find her. Years ago, neither would have been caught dead doing such.

Placing both her hands on her belly, Temari allowed Shikamaru to gently sway her from side to side, hopefully soothing the vexing child he knew she had gotten up because of. During the final trimesters of both her pregnancies, he was keenly aware of her discomfort most, if not all the time. This was due more to reading her body language, than her actually saying, as she wasn't one to complain. In her times of distress, he found if best to assist in anyway possible to ease the aches and pains he knew (upon finding out she was pregnant with Hatsune, his mother had made him lug 2 bushels of deer feed to simulate why Temari would be more ornery than usual) her body would be feeling; and really, how easy could it be carrying a 15-25 pound growth on your stomach, all day, every day, for 9 months?

Contradictory, he did this more out of want than obligation. Yes, she was carrying his child, it was the least he could do, but to be honest, he just didn't like to see her in pain. Hatsune's birth had been agony on him; not because of the broken fingers (he couldn't do seals for a week), but because of the abnormal tears of pain running down her cheeks, and the uncharacteristic pleas of 'Make it stop! I can't do this! I can't!'

In the early stages of motherhood, he let her roll around in bed for hours, finding comfort on her own, but when sleep began to elude him as well (which in itself was odd), with her tossing and turning, along with her displeasure throughout the day due to exhaustion, he took it upon himself to ease the pain.. He generally found that during the day, she would be content with back, foot, and shoulder massages (which he didn't mind because of the soft skin, and delicious noises she made), while at night she preferred sleeping on her side, either with a leg thrown over his, or him spooned at her back, a muscled leg between hers. When neither would work, she'd often get up and find relief in a cup of tea, or warm milk.

Just as now, once the beverage of choice was finished, she'd make her way to the window, observing anything with hopes of drooping eyelids. This nightly activity was nothing new to her though. As a child, many a night were spent fearing her uncontrollable brother; as a teenage Ninja, evenings were spent on a cold ground, or high up on a tree limb; and once Hatusne was born, night time feeding and diaper changes were the norm. Of course, now she had Shikamaru, who more times than not, used Temari's exhaustion as father-daughter bonding moments with midnight changes and soft lullabies.

It was during this time that Shikamaru himself fully began to understand the mentality of his own mother. Seeing Temari blissfully happy, yet groggy and run down brought a new perspective on why his mother was the way she was.

With little sleep, wonderful, though draining children, and a never-ending list of things for mothers and wives to do, it was easy to see why his mother nagged him as much as she did. And with an identical Shadow Clone as a father, he now understood about the grey strands she tried so hard to dye. It was tough being a Nara wife, a Nara mother, and in Temari's case, a Kunoichi, all at the same time. Maybe that was why his mother had given up the life of a Ninja. Caring for both him and his father had been a fulltime job.

Shikamaru nuzzled the side of his wife's neck with a slightly stubbled jaw.

"Come back to bed," he murmured into her ear.

Temari shivered as this breath danced across her skin, a chuckle escaping her lips. "You try sleeping like this," she playfully scoffed.

Shikamaru trailed kisses from her temple to her collarbone, removing one of his arms from around her shoulder, to move the gold strands at the nape of her neck, that hand then resting on her thigh. "I'm sure I can find ways to tire you out."

Temari moaned at the insinuation, still shocked that after 6 years of marriage, lazy himself, initiated over half their sexual relations.

She giggled (yes, giggled) as the stubble on his jaw skimmed across the back of her neck with each open mouthed kiss he placed.

"I believe that's why I'm not sleeping now," neither rejecting nor submitting to his advances.

Shika 'Hn'ed', his hands moving underneath her nightshirt to caress her baby bump, completely oblivious to the exposed panties, where the shirt rode up at his wrists, that could be view thought the glass door by any passing Suna villager.

"A month," she breathed, her hands now clasped with his underneath her shirt. "A month, and Hatsune will have a sibling."

She felt Shikamaru nod from where his chin rested on her shoulder. "A brother," he stated matter-of-factly.

Temari briefly glanced at him, "How do you know that?"

"I planned it," was his cheeky reply, at which the fan wielder roller her eyes.

"Oh yes, Nara Shikamaru's plan for the future." She remembered that long before they were dating, he told her of his future aspirations, which back then was satisfactory with a Chuunin rank. "But if you recall," Temari pointed out, "that was with an average looking wife, and a daughter who would be married off."

The Shadow User waited for what he knew was coming.

"Well, let me tell you something, lazy-"

Oh, there it was.

"-My daughter will not be settled to be some housewife whose main job in life is to please her husband and produce his heirs. She will be a strong, skilled Kunoichi, with her father's brains, and her mother's independence!"

Inner Shikamaru found it quite fascinating that she spoke so adamantly, yet didn't even raiser her voice, or break from a light tone, probably more of the child sleeping down the hall.

"Now, what do you have to say about the average looking wife?"

Shikamaru didn't even have to think about that one. It was in the Husband's Handbook. Although, it was no surprise that he found her far from unattractive. If memory serves him right (it usally did), the first time he saw her naked, the words 'Kami, you're beautiful' slipped from his lips before he even had a chance to think them. Then again, covered in blood, and dirt, reeking of sweat and filth, he still thinks whoever you believe in knew what they were doing then they created the woman in his arms.

"I love you."

Temari scoffed, by smiled. "That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for, but it will do."

Shikamaru answered her with a yawn. "Can we go back to be now?"

To her great pleasure, Temari yawned as well, confirming the myth that yawns were indeed contagious.

"Yeah."

Removing his hands from her expectant belly, he laced her fingers with his and gently pulled her towards the bedroom.

One more month.

Author's Note: First Anime fic. Please be nice. Oh, the OOCness of it all. Ok, I've never been pregnant, and really have no idea about anything to do with pregnancy b/c I dont generally spend time with mothers-to-be. I apologize for any errors, or naive assumptions I may have made. Did I mention the OOCness?? And yes, rather abrupt ending. Ideas were slim-to-none.