A/A: I'm BACK! For now, anyway. I have experience a recent surge of fanfiction inspiration, all thanks to my lovely friend walkingwater, who probably doesn't even know what she did.

But never mind that. I have uploaded a good, long chapter for all those readers that have been stewing in frustration as they patiently waited for the next upload. I would say that hopefully the next one won't take so long, but knowing me it probably will. Such are the trials of life, I suppose.

What I DO hope is that you all enjoy this and not be too angry at me in your reviews for being lazy :)

Chapter Three: Prepare

A prepared seduction is a successful seduction. An adequate assessment will provide you with the knowledge of what you need to accomplish. Preparation will include areas such as appearance.

They wordlessly stared at each other for what must have been a good, long ten seconds. It could have been longer, but counting wasn't exactly on Ino's mind. Actually, for once in her life she didn't have much on her mind at all. There was kind of this eerie stillness, like a mist that had descended over her brain.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing, really. Couldn't remember a time she'd ever been in a situation like this one. Nothing in her Infallible Plan of Action could have prepared her for something like this.

She couldn't seem to move. She didn't know if it was because she was enjoying their rare proximity or because if they did move, they'd then be forced to deal with the aftermath of whatever the hell this was. Either way, she had to do something because what was possibly the most romantic moment of her life (which wasn't really saying anything positive for the state of her love life) was in distinct danger of becoming the most awkward moment of her life.

So she scowled at him. It was her fallback expression. It worked. He withdrew his hands, which somehow freed her movement too.

"Me? Wrinkles? Don't be stupid!" She scoffed, rather weakly she thought. However, it effectively broke the moment, the unsettling stillness that had descended upon them both. But that didn't mean her face wasn't heating up, that her heart wasn't pounding away in her chest, and that her fingers weren't shaking as she clasped them into desperate fists at her sides.

What was that? And what was wrong with her? If any other guy had said her nose wrinkled when she smiled she would have punched them in the face without a moment's hesitation. But somehow Shikamaru had made it seem like the most intimate gesture ever to be bestowed upon a female.

"Whatever," Shikamaru replied after a long pause, shrugging nonchalantly as though that electrifying moment had only been one-sided.

Had it?

This day was just turning out to be way too troublesome. Really.

Your nose wrinkles when you smile? Really?

Of all the things he could have said, of all the little physical characteristics of hers he'd picked up over years of close (and sort of stalker-like) observation, and he chose your nose wrinkles? He was only surprised she hadn't punched him in the face yet. If it wouldn't make him look even worse, he would have punched himself in the face.

Maybe he should try strangling himself with his own shadow. It would be a subtle way to go. Unfortunately his father had never quite told him if it would work, probably because he hadn't wanted his son getting curiously suicidal like he was now.

How troublesome.

He didn't know what he was going to do about her now (she was still divested of her wet clothes and in his shirt, after all) but he needed to move. So, without really planning ahead of the immediate, he stood up.

Bad play. Very bad play.

In an uncharacteristic move, he hadn't accounted for how close she was, so as he stood they collided in a decidedly unappealing way.

His head banged her nose.

"Ow!" Ino exclaimed passionately as she held her nose, "This better not start bleeding, you ass!"

Shikamaru grimaced, though he didn't quite think that expression adequately conveyed the gravity of how much of an idiot he felt just then.

"Sorry," He muttered as he sank back down on the bed, toying with the idea of laying down in it and hiding under the covers until everything, including Ino (especially Ino), miraculously disappeared by morning. He probably would have given it a try if his sheets weren't wet.

Ino managed to give him a glare that could reduce lesser men to quivering heaps on the floor (he only survived through years of practice and hard work) even with her hands covering half her face.

"Well?" Her voice was muffled, what with the hands covering her mouth and nose, but he was pretty sure that's what she said.

"Well what?" He replied morosely, aware he probably looked and sounded more pathetic than she did.

"I'm hurt! And because of you, no less!" She seethed, and he wished her words weren't so clearly enunciated even while muffled so he could at least pretend he hadn't understood her.

"I'm aware."

"Well?"

At the risk of sounded repetitive he replied, "Well what?"

"I could be bleeding! Because of you!"

He sighed. He couldn't help it. It probably wouldn't do much for her temper, but he figured trying to contain that was a lost cause at the moment anyway.

"You're not bleeding," Maybe he would have felt a bit worse if she had been, but there was a distinct lack of blood dripping through her fingers.

"But I could have been! Because of you!"

She seemed to have a penchant for pointing out his blame in all of this, as though the constant reminder was supposed to spur him into some specific action. Women. If she wanted him to do something in particular, why didn't she just ask him to?

"And?" He prompted, because she was clearly expecting something from him. Hell if he knew what it was. Women were unpredictable and unreasonable at best, and Ino certainly wasn't at her best right then.

"And?" She repeated in decidedly more vehement tones. "And?"

Again with the repetition. He wasn't quite sure what she was attempting to accomplish with it.

"You should be checking if I'm okay!" She finally exploded.

And there it is, he thought. That elusive action he was supposed to have been performing by now, or maybe several minutes ago judging from the expression on her face (what he could see of it behind her hands, anyway).

It probably wasn't wise to point out she could just look in the mirror.

Boys were so obtuse! Honestly, by looking at the man sulking (yes, sulking) on the bed in front of her, you'd think he wasn't in possession of an IQ over 10 on a good day. And this wasn't a good day! She'd been rained on, forced to possess Lee (so many possibly psychological issues associated with that), been forced into extended physical contact with Gai (so many more possibly psychological issues associated with that), woken up in a strange room, found out that room was Shikamaru's (man who she loved), found out the shirt she'd casually put on was Shikamaru's (repeat earlier thought), and had probably burst a major artery somewhere in the vicinity of her heart because of that stupidly adorable comment about wrinkles on her nose!

And then, as if all that wasn't enough, he banged her nose with his head! And…and he didn't even seem to care much either way! She was in pain, for crying out loud! There was this irritating dull throb that pulsated in time with her heart and he hadn't even thought to do what normal guys would, like take her in his arms, brush a hand over her cheek, look deep into her eyes and ask, as though it was the most important question to ever leave his lips, if she was okay.

But no, Shikamaru had just sat on the bed, staring off into space, looking like he was wishing for nothing more than dry sheets. What's more, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there or, rather, like he wanted her to be anywhere but there. It stung in a way that wasn't easy to admit to, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to storm out – partially clothed and all – or stay put to suffer through his disregard because she wasn't sure which option was more painful.

And damn it all, there were tears in her eyes now. How embarrassing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried in front of anyone, much less him! At least the appearance of tears seemed to be spurring him into some sort of guilt trip, evident from the deep swallow, widened eyes and pursed lips.

Well, either he was embarking on a guilt trip or he was spontaneously constipated. Both expressions were remarkably similar.

Then he swallowed again and looked like he was steeling himself to perform some vulgar task. This was followed by a long-suffering sigh of resignation. She hoped this had nothing to do with her.

Unfortunately, she'd hoped for too much.

Those were tears in her eyes, weren't they?

Damn.

And because it bore repeating…

Damn.

Tears were one of the many things he could not handle. Even if he hadn't been seeing them with alarming frequency this week as his menopausal mother tried to stop him from going to training (she was afraid he'd get killed because he'd be too lazy to move out the way of a kunai), tears still possessed the disturbing ability to reduce even the strongest of men to a quivering heap of spineless indignity and he was under no illusion that he was the strongest of men. Hell, he probably didn't even make it past the bottom three percent.

And those were just normal tears from normal women (though he could only tentatively place his mother in the category of 'normal'). They weren't Ino's tears. The last time he'd seen Ino's tears was when they were both four and he'd pulled her hair because she'd forced him to eat mud (and she hadn't even had the decency to disguise it as pie). Even at that tender age he'd felt the injustice of it all. Mud-eating was far worse than hair-pulling in his books, so he couldn't help but feel a little miffed when her tears had gotten her a lollipop and him a hard spanking.

So when he saw her tears now, he couldn't help but feel the injustice of it all once again for a number of reasons. Firstly, he hardly thought that little bang to the nose warranted tears. Secondly, any girl's tears had the uncanny knack to make any man feel remarkably awkward and incompetent and this instance was no exception. Thirdly, he felt awful. He couldn't physically remember a time when he'd felt more so, which was really saying a lot because much had happened over the past few years with Ino to make him feel particularly awful.

Like that time only a mere two weeks after he'd fallen for her when he'd caught her making out with some asshole called Shin (he didn't actually know the guy but he couldn't imagine he'd ever like him now). Then there was that time when a messenger pigeon had dropped a piece of paper on his head and he'd read it only to realise that the bird had flown to the wrong guy when he saw it wasn't his name Ino had associated 'you make me hot all over' with. Oh, and how could he ever forget the time Ino had shamelessly walked into the men's toilets (to this day he never found out why), laughed (yes, laughed) when she saw him at the urinal and left before he could reassure her that it was actually much bigger when he was using it for something other than pissing.

Now he felt awful because all those times he'd only felt that way because Ino had done something to hurt him (unintentional though it was), but this time he'd done something to hurt her (unintentional thought that was) which, he was surprised to note, made him hurt even worse than all those times combined…and then some. It couldn't be said that it was a particularly pleasant feeling, so awful seemed an apt way to describe it.

Hell. I'm going to have to do something about her now. How troublesome.

It wasn't so much that he minded doing something; he just wasn't quite sure what it was he was supposed to be doing. He vaguely recalled her mentioning something before the tears came along, but he couldn't quite remember what it was exactly because he was entirely too accustomed to blocking out things that were troublesome. There was something about her bleeding and a mirror…?

He sighed. If all this was over a stupid head-into-nose bang he may as well just have a look at the damn nose and convince her he hadn't done any permanent damage (maybe that's what she was so upset about). The sooner the tears disappeared, the better for everyone involved…namely him. Unfortunately, in order to gain access to her nose he'd be required to get close to her face.

He swallowed apprehensively. He'd held out from kissing her thus far, so perhaps his astounding luck in this department would continue? There wasn't much else that could go wrong for him today. Surely his lifetime quota of bad karma had already been expended.

Before he could reason himself out of it, he stood up – being very careful not to hit her nose this time – and stood in front of her. He was far too close to be anywhere near comfortable, but he figured he couldn't exactly check her nose from across the room.

But at this distance, her eyes were just that much bluer and that much wider as she stared up at him in what could only be called confusion. The utter lack of anger or annoyance in her expression, which was what she usually directed his way, gave her that appearance of innocent vulnerability again and all he wanted to do was put his arms around her. He might have done just that if it weren't for the fact that she'd knee him in the groin or something to that affect if he tried.

Look at her nose. Just look at her nose.

The nose had to be the least attractive part of any face (that, and possibly eyebrows), so he figured if he focused all his attention on that one appendage he'd be fine. However, she was still covering her nose with her hands so all he could really see were those eyes…

Move the hands. Now.

His fingers gently encircled her wrists and her hands went slack from the shock of the sudden contact (which just reinforced the idea that it wouldn't be a great time for a surprise kiss). He shifted them away from her face with deliberate movement, not sure whether he was doing so for her sake or his. As soon as her face was revealed he sucked in a quick breath, unable to pause the irritating reflex action. Had he ever been so close to her face before? He couldn't remember ever noticing how her lips parted slightly as she exhaled and the length of her eyelashes on her cheek when she blinked, and that tiny, single freckle on the side of her nose that she usually covered with makeup.

On the subject of her face, it had sort of blanked out by this time. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but as long as she wasn't yelling or inflicting some form of physical damage on his person he figured he was in the clear and should proceed with caution. The caution was certainly for both their sakes. He'd always liked to think of himself as possessing an abnormally large quota of self-control, as proven by the fact that he hadn't done anything troublesome to her yet, but now it would just be so easy to close the distance…

Nose. Look at her nose.

He brushed the tips of his fingers over the bridge of her nose. It was completely unnecessary, but he had to indulge himself just that little bit, hoping she'd write the brief contact off as a routine part of his inspection. Then he stepped closer for some unknown reason. It was like he had no control over his body anymore, like someone caught him in his own shadow jutsu and was forcing him closer and closer to her.

Not that he minded.

She seemed to sway a little on her feet, kind of backwards and forwards, away and towards him. Then his spine was attacked by a swarm of electric tingles when her hands rested lightly on his chest.

His mind completely blanked. By this point he was only feeling, not thinking. His movements were based entirely on the tsunami of emotion that was pummelling him again and again and again. Electricity sparked around them, between them, between that gap that he swore was getting smaller and smaller as their bodies got closer and closer.

Her fingers curled against his chest and his thumb brushed across her cheekbone. It was smooth, soft. Her gaze met his gaze; it was full of unspoken things, secrets he was desperate to know, but somehow, sometime, his words had vanished and all that was left was this deep chasm of feeling and a traitorous voice in his head that whispered treasons, like maybe this feeling wasn't so one-sided after all.

He was going to kiss her.

He was going to kiss her.

She knew the signs. She'd kissed enough boys in her time to be able to tell when it was coming.

And it was coming. All the signs were there. His face had that blank expression, his eyes that intense, almost fierce determination like nothing in the world could stop him now. And he was touching her, the tips of his fingers brushing across her cheek, her temple, her hair, as softly as butterfly's wings or the tip of a feather or any other relevant cliché she could come up with while he was doing that to her.

It was devastating. It was stealing every rational thought that had ever existed within her. He was holding hostage her ability to think, speak, move or do anything other than wait.

Wait for his eyes to drop to her lips.

There it is.

Wait for his hands to still, tilting her face towards him.

There it is.

Wait for his eyes to close.

There it is.

Wait for the slow, excruciating descent of lips until they finally, finally touched…

Wait, where is it?

Feeling more than a little irritated, Ino opened her eyes only to find that Shikamaru's attention wasn't on her anymore. His eyes were wide open, looking off in the general direction of the door. His hands were still cradling her face, but the moment was gone and she felt the loss of it with everything.

Damn stupid idiot!

It figured that the one time they'd gotten even remotely close to something (she wasn't quite sure what, but a kiss was always a good sign), he spaced out at the last second! It was so Shikamaru it made her want to tear her hair out. And she loved her hair.

The moment well and truly gone, Ino followed the direction of Shikamaru's intense stare to find out who would have the audacity to dare interrupt something that was far too long coming in the first place.

So she looked.

And then she froze.

Just when he thought his day couldn't get any better, fate decided to agree with him and made it worse.

There he was and there she was. Or rather, there they were, together, standing far too close for it to be casual, looking at each other far too intensely for it to be nothing, touching far too intimately for it to be coincidental.

He'd thought it most possibly the greatest moment of his life.

Sure, he was taking an uncharacteristic risk in kissing Ino. She'd looked receptive enough, if receptive meant she hadn't made any moves to stop him. She had, in fact, put her hands on his chest (where they still were, he noticed absently). He couldn't claim to have any great depth of experience with women, but surely they didn't just put their hands on a guy's chest unless it meant something. At least, Ino had never done that to him before so he figured it meant something for her.

But the moment might not have happened at all for what it mattered as acutely destroyed it had been the instant he'd heard the soft murmur of surprise, followed by a muttered "Oh, my!" and they hadn't been coming from Ino (he would have noticed, being that close and all).

It was some sort of sick cosmic joke that, at what would probably be the only chance he ever got to kiss a probably-receptive Ino, his mother walked in.

One glance at the door told him all he needed to know, but he couldn't seem to look away. Neither could she, apparently. Well, that was hardly surprising. He realised, rather belatedly, that he'd left the door half open so there was no reason for his mother to not just walk on in. So walk on in she had, and came across the scene before her now.

There he was and there Ino was. Or rather, there they were, together, standing far too close for it to be casual, looking at each other far too intensely for it to be nothing, touching far too intimately for it to be coincidental.

And looking for all the world like they were about to kiss. Which they had been, he noted with no small degree of annoyance.

By this time Ino had noticed their rather sensitive predicament and positively leaped back from him, a sure sign of guilt. He stifled a groan. He'd been hoping to extricate them from the troublesome situation after a bout of quick strategic thinking and planned movement, but Ino had just gone and done more damage than he could repair in the space of a few seconds.

The situation was worsened when he noticed his mother looked like she was tearing up. She'd placed a hand on her chest, her lips were quivering and her eyes were getting that dangerous sheen to them. He personally thought that crying at the discovery of your son's sex life (if only) was a bit overdramatic, but he'd never expected his mother to fall in the categories of normal motherhood behaviours anyway. It was just so unfortunate that she hadn't exceeded expectation this one time, though.

"Shika…Ino…I…I had no idea," She whispered.

This time he did groan out loud. This was not going to turn out beneficial for anyone.

"Mum, please…it's not…"

"I never thought this day would come!" She exclaimed happily, and Shikamaru thought her cheeks were about to crack under the force of her smile.

"What?" He and Ino said together, but he didn't dare look at her lest it encourage his mother to continue whatever the hell it was she was doing.

She sighed and clasped both her hands over her heart whilst looking between him and Ino, as though they were about to start professing their love for each other at any moment. As though she was hoping that would happen.

Something is not adding up here. This is very, very wrong. How troublesome.

"You have no idea – no idea – what you two children have put we parents through these past few years!" She admonished.

"Multiple heart attacks?" Ino guessed, and Shikamaru had never wanted to throttle her more. Did she not know his mother enough to realise that speaking when she was in the midst of a pointless rant was never a good thing? This woman could be scary.

His mother turned her sharp gaze on Ino, who he swore visibly shrunk under her gaze.

"Close enough," She replied, and he was sure he could feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. Icicles would probably start forming under his nose any second now.

"For four years we've been trying to keep our distance so it could developed naturally and without inference," She continued, addressing Ino more than him while he wondered what 'it' was, "but I thought my dear Shikamaru was one of those gay people from all the attention he showed a beautiful girl like you, Ino!"

"Oh my god," Shikamaru groaned again while Ino barely suppressed a giggle. He didn't think this could get any worse. If it got any worse he may just have to relocate to Sand or something, a good three days away from the bane of his existence…both of them, who were in his room. Together.

How troublesome.

"Don't you laugh, Yamanaka Ino! It certainly didn't help that you were too busy getting it on with every boy that moved to notice what a treasure my Shikamaru is!"

While he took objection to being referred to as a treasure, he was far more concerned with just how grossly insulted Ino had just been by his mother. She hardly got it on with every boy…just a lot of them.

He chanced a glance at her only to see a look of blank shock on her face reminiscent of the time he'd almost kissed her (it felt like centuries ago now). Even though having one's promiscuous reputation openly commented upon by a friend's mother was certainly a mortifying experience, he hadn't thought she'd be quite so upset about it. She'd made no effort to hide her…extracurricular activities and had, at times, almost seemed to take pride in being the notorious Seduction Mistress, more commonly known as the Slut.

But now she looked beyond mortified. She looked hurt and that wasn't an expression he was used to seeing on her…and it definitely wasn't an expression he could tolerate.

"Mum, stop," He commanded in the most assertive voice he'd ever be able to use around her. His mother had the rare talent of emasculating every male within a 10-mile diameter with her sheer presence alone.

"Oh, be quiet, Shikamaru! Allow me just this brief moment of triumph before you ruin it by getting all grumpy," She scolded harshly. "I'll leave you two alone in a moment so you can continue what you were starting…or finishing," She continued with a pointed look at Ino's attire.

Shikamaru wanted to slap himself in the face because he felt so ridiculously stupid. Ino was still in his shirt, wasn't she? So not only did it appear as though they were about to get into something, it also looked like they'd already finished doing something. Honestly, he doubted much more could go wrong.

"Naru-san, I'm afraid there's been a bit of a misunderstanding," Ino reasoned whilst pulling down the hem of his shirt, which only served to redirect his mother's attention to the shirt.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ino," His mother waved at her dismissively. "Do you think I'm stupid? I was young once, you know."

Shikamaru sighed. Here we go.

"You don't need to worry about what I think about you two being up here in Shika's room all alone. I know what goes on between young people in love behind closed doors," She smiled reminiscently and he had absolutely no desire to find out what she was thinking about.

"Speaking of doors," she continued in afterthought, "You really should close it if you're going to be walking around in nothing but a shirt. Shikamaru, dear, maybe you should put a sock on the door like me and your father-"

"Oh my God. Stop. Now," So many mental images he never wished he'd seen flooded his brain. It would probably take months of therapy to forget it now.

"Sorry, Shika, I don't want to embarrass you," She said like she hadn't already done that already. "Anyway, you don't need to hide your activities from us, dears. All parents concerned are in complete agreement on the matter!"

Then she gasped in excitement, "I can't wait to tell them what happened! We'll have to have a dinner to celebrate, of course."

She was more talking to herself now as he and Ino could only stare on in horror.

"Okay, well I'll let you two continue…you know…and I'll just be making a quick visit to the flower shop!"

With that she gave them one last huge, suggestive grin and firmly shut the door behind her, effectively leaving them alone in stunned, horrified silence.

And all he could think was: what do I say to her now?

Ino couldn't think of a time she'd been more mortified in her entire life. Sure, there was that one time her dress had ripped when she was out partying without realising and she'd walked around half the night with her thong showing. There was also that time she'd been hooking up with a guy that said he lived alone, but then his dad had walked in to find her straddling his son topless. And then there was being found in Lee…and being hugged by Gai. That was just bad all round.

But all of these experiences were something she could look back on with some small degree of fondness. They were experiences she could share with friends and they'd all share horrified gasps and laugh over it. But being called a whore by the mother of the guy she was in love with? She was never going to look back on this with any degree of fond reminiscence. She was never going to share it with friends and laugh about it because it wasn't the time she'd almost kissed Shikamaru and had been caught by his mother. That would have been okay. No, this was the time every hope she'd had of regaining the respect of the only person she wanted it from died.

It wasn't that she cared a great deal about what Shikamaru's mother thought of her. That wasn't the crux of the matter. Sure, it was more than a little humiliating to find out that she knew about Ino's notoriety and the reasons for it. And if Shikamaru's mother knew, she didn't even want to begin to think about how much her own mother knew! If his mother had made that comment when they were alone, she would have been momentarily irritated at her audacity but nothing more. She didn't blame her for thinking that about her because she did have a reputation. But to say it in front of Shikamaru? It was just the accumulation of everything she never wanted to happen.

She loved Shikamaru because of who he was despite what everyone thought him to be. He was commonly seen as irresponsible, unmotivated, lazy, and apathetic – all traits despise in shinobi. And sure, he was those things. He'd rather watch clouds for hours on end than learn a new technique. However, there was so much more to him than most people saw. Chouji saw it. Asuma saw it. Even Naruto saw it. And she definitely saw it.

He was strong, so much stronger than he'd ever give himself credit for. After all, wasn't he the first of their group to become a chunin? Wasn't he the one who'd been leading and completing multiple missions when the rest of them couldn't even get past being genin? Wasn't he the one constantly beating the odds and insuring success? And even though he was strong, he was humble. He never showed off, never rubbed his abilities or intellect in people's faces. He was a leader, ready to take charge and demand respect when needed, but just as willing to fade into the background and let others have a go. Usually his lack of ambition was a blessing because it allowed him to remain objective and keep calm in situations in which others (like Naruto, for instance) would lose their head.

But above all his superior ability, intellect or personality traits, he was a good friend. He cared about people. He'd do his damnedest to disguise it all as troublesome, but she knew better. She could see him. She saw his generosity in the way he'd do the most inconvenient things for a friend if they asked him. Even if he complained the entire time he never said no unless he had no choice in the matter. She saw his honour in the way he stood up for Chouji countless times for countless things. She saw his care for his comrades when he put his life on the line for them constantly in many different situations over many different years. She saw all that and so much more; all the little and big things that made him Shikamaru, even all the bad things, and she loved him for all of it.

Not only that, he'd certainly more than grown into his looks over the years and he looked damned fine in that jounin vest with those hoops in his ears and that scowl on his face. If he hadn't been too damn lazy to pay a little attention to females he'd probably have them all over him by now. Sometimes, she'd catch a glimpse of him out the corner of her eye and she swore her heart definitely stopped for a few seconds, as though it needed time to comprehend what she felt when she looked at him.

She only had two great hopes in her life. The first was to learn the Fifth Hokage's anti-aging jutsu (that women was well into her fifties and positively smoking hot). The second and most important hope was that one day Shikamaru would see her too. Really see her, like she saw him.

It was only as his mother had mentioned her reputation that she had realised her hope was futile. It didn't matter if he was the only person she wanted to know the real her, he would never be able to find the real her when everyone around him believed what she'd led them to believe for so many years. Even Sakura, her rival-come-best-friend-still-rival believed the worst about her. Why? Because she did absolutely nothing to dispel the rumours, what people said she got up to after hours. Hell, she'd even fabricated more than a few raucous stories to add fuel to the fire. Why? Because that's what people expected from her.

She'd always been a more physical person and had most definitely been an early bloomer. Too early. The idea of clandestine affairs and forbidden kisses in back rooms seemed thrilling to her when she was fourteen. She was too naïve to know that affairs were rarely glamorous and forbidden kisses were usually cheap. So armed with her vivacious (usually referred to as obnoxious) personality, curiosity, sense of adventure and decent looks, she'd gone searching for the romance she'd heard so much about only to find the thrill was fleeting, the pleasure brief and disappointment crippling. Unfortunately, by the time she'd realised the kind of romance she'd idealised for so long didn't exist anymore it was too late. Her identity had been created from her various strings of conquests and hook ups.

Identity was an impossible thing to change. When someone expected certain behaviours, it took a lot to change that person's mind. And those in the shinobi world was more cynical than most. It came from killing people on a regularly basis, she guessed. As a ninja, you literally saw the worst evils of humanity and it did wonders for forming the belief that good was hard to come by and change was a rare commodity, one always met with suspicion. So she figured if people already believed she was a slut, she may as well be the best damn slut around in order to gain some control over the rumours that would spread regardless of any effort on her part to stop them. She'd been content with her lot in life. Sure, people looked down on her but at least she was having fun.

Then she'd fallen for Shikamaru. It'd crept up on her slowly, just a series of realisations of the person he'd become. Then that ridiculous belief in romance that she couldn't quite get rid of kept haunting her and teasing her, suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he could see her for who she really was and love her for it too.

Only now did she see the stupidity of that dream. Only now did she see the stupidity of her actions thus far. If she wanted him to change his perception of her she had to show him who she was, not wait around for it to suddenly smack him across the forehead. But she didn't know how to show him and if it'd do any good at all.

She knew seduction and that was what she was supposed to be doing anyway. A seduction. And wasn't it going wonderfully? She'd failed in her assessment and the only preparations she'd done were for a lifetime of loneliness.

She sighed. Thinking about her dire future would do absolutely nothing to help diffuse the aftermath of the most horrifying moment of her life. Shikamaru was still staring at the door, looking like he wanted nothing more than to learn some sort of body-swap jutsu so someone else could deal with this problem.

The problem was three-fold.

One: His mother was about to tell her parents that she and Shikamaru were having sex. It's not that she didn't mind the idea of she and Shikamaru having sex (actually, she welcomed it with open arms…or open legs, as the case may be), it was just that she didn't want their parents talking about them having sex. She didn't want them even thinking about them having sex! And she most certainly didn't want them rejoicing because they were (supposedly) having sex! It was just too weird on so many levels.

Two: They had almost kissed. It was most definitely the elephant in the room. She figured Shikamaru would probably ignore it and pretend nothing had happened because that's just what Shikamaru did. He probably thought it the least troublesome strategy. Thing is, she didn't really want to be the one to bring it up either because what if she was wrong?

Three: She was still in his shirt. It seemed to be the smallest part of the massive problem that was their existence but it was an annoyingly recurring problem that seemed to accomplish nothing but make all the other parts of the problem seem that much worse. She felt like as soon as she got out of this damn shirt everything would start to return to some semblance of normality.

Then Shikamaru turned to her. Her heart raced in anticipation.

What was he going to say? "Sorry my mother is such a nutcase"? "I don't think you're a whore"? "You look so damn sexy in my shirt"? "She said let's continue where we left off, so why don't we"? "I almost kissed you because I love you"?

All were acceptable options. None were ones he chose.

"So I'm pretty sure your nose is okay."

In hindsight, bringing up her nose again probably hadn't been the smartest move. It just made her remember that he'd been the one to hurt her nose in the first place. Also, her nose had become the reminder of what had almost transpired between them, which was something he was trying to forget or block out at the very least.

He wasn't stupid, despite the string of stupid mistakes he'd made throughout the day. He knew that he was about to kiss her and he knew she was about to let him. But he didn't know what that meant exactly. Sure, he knew what it meant for him. Kissing her was pretty much at the top of his list of Things I'd Really Like To Do But Probably Never Will, along with other impossible things like turning into a cloud and floating away. Kissing her was his number one unfulfilled fantasy. So yeah, he knew why he wanted to kiss her. What he didn't know, however, was why she'd ever let him.

Part of him hoped that perhaps it was because she felt something for him too. She didn't have to love him, nothing so far fetched. He just wanted something, anything that gave him some small modicum of hope that maybe he had a chance with her. The best part was it would not be an illogical conclusion. When one kissed someone, or allowed themselves to be kissed, it most usually meant they wanted to kiss that person, either because they found them attractive or they had feelings for them. He'd happily take on either of those reasons if he was sure they were Ino's.

However, the reason he hadn't addressed the issue, the reason he never would unless she did, was because he didn't know if those were her reasons for allowing him to kiss her, even if the kiss hadn't actually happened. If it was any other girl but Ino, he would be going for it again because of how sure he'd be that it meant something. But for Ino, who kissed guys on a frequent basis, he couldn't be sure what her motives were. Kissing was obviously nothing more to her than a pleasurable pastime, one that had no particular meaning. She had no qualms about kissing a guy just because she thought he was hot, not because she had any depth of feeling for him. Sometimes she didn't know their names.

He loved Ino, obviously. He knew there was so much more to her than what people perceived her to be, what she led everyone else to believe. He thought he might be the only one who saw through her. But that didn't mean there wasn't some truth to the rumours. He'd seen her hook up or leave with too many guys than he cared to remember over the past four years. He wasn't naïve. He knew what happened when a girl left with a guy. So he made it his policy to believe only what he saw with his own eyes…but unfortunately, he saw a lot, which meant her reasons for letting him almost kiss her were a mystery.

She could just have been going along with the moment. They were standing so close, his hands on her face and she would have been able to tell what he was about to do. She might have just thought "why not?"

Why not, indeed.

So he remained silent. If it meant enough to her that she wanted to talk about it, he'd talk about it. He figured if she just ignored the issue, it meant she wanted to forget it and who was he to prevent that from happening?

So he'd said the one thing he thought would distract them from their almost-kiss and hopefully (but doubtfully) erase the memory of the moments following it. Obviously it was the wrong thing to say because she'd given him a look so hostile he wouldn't be surprised if he found out she'd been getting lessons from his mother.

But look was all she'd done. She hadn't berated him, yelled at him or beaten him in any way. She'd just seemed devoid of energy, supported by her next words: "I want to go home."

He wasn't surprised she wanted to leave. He sure wanted to leave and would have done so a long time ago had it not been his room and had she not been standing in it…still in his shirt, no less.

That shirt was becoming a bit of a problem. Her clothes were still a wet heap on the floor and he couldn't very well expect her to walk through the streets in nothing but the shirt.

She'd obviously realised the same problem as she'd looked down at her attire and then longingly at the clothes on the floor.

"I'll just put my shorts on so it's not like I have nothing but underwear under this thing," She'd said, unwittingly causing him to conjure up multiple appealing images in his brain, none of which he had any intention of blocking.

"Whatever," was about all he could manage with all that going on in his brain.

"I'll wash it and give it back to you as soon as I can," She'd continued, perhaps surprised by his easy agreement.

"Yeah."

Then there'd been an awkward pause, like there hadn't been enough of those already.

She'd looked embarrassed, which was, strangely, becoming an expression he was getting accustomed to seeing on her now.

"You'll…uh…you'll have to turn around as I put these on."

Oh. Oh.

Needless to say he turned around quick fast, but not without his mind returning to those same scintillating mental images. It was amazing that his body could arouse the adequate feelings of desire after having been plunged into the equivalent of cold ice that was his mother.

"I'm finished."

He turned around with the vain hope that perhaps she was lying and was actually halfway through putting her shorts on, which was obviously absurd. Why would she do that? The knowledge didn't make a spot of difference, though. His brain was just full of stupid thoughts today, why stop now?

So there she was, fully dressed. At least he assumed so. He couldn't actually see the shorts under the shirt, but the knowledge that they were there made a startling difference to his composure. However, it couldn't have made that much of a difference because he still heard himself say:

"I'll walk you home."

Did he just ask to walk her home? After this whole embarrassing, humiliating, life-destroying debacle, he wanted to prolong the torture by walking her home? Was he completely insane?

"Okay."

Did I just say that?

She noted the open shock that Shikamaru had adopted as his latest expression.

Yep, I just said that. Damn.

"Right," Shikamaru replied in a tone that obviously implied that he acutely wished she hadn't responded positively to his question.

Had he only asked her to be polite, assuming that the polite thing to do after a girl had been unconscious in your bedroom, dressed in your shirt, almost kissed, interrupted and insulted by your mother was to walk her home? If it had stemmed from pure politeness and no real desire to walk her home, should she have noted this and responded with a firm "No, I'm fine, thank you"?

Ino stopped herself when she realised what she was doing. She was thinking about a single question he had posed. Not only was she thinking, she was analysing. No other action was so proficient at causing female romantic downfalls as analysing. It was a major taboo in her Rulebook and there she was, the author supreme, committing that most abominable act.

There existed two reasons females fail at seduction. One: they're ugly. Two: analysing. Analysing made women think too hard and too much about their subject's words and actions, inevitably deciphering them incorrectly, which in turn caused them to respond incorrectly and therefore bring the whole seduction attempt crashing down in a blaze of humiliation and, often, tears (usually of humiliation).

This most deplorable of fates had happened to her once and she swore it never would again. She was the one who dictated the terms of the game so she was the one who came out the victor, with her subject completely under her thumb and delighted to be there. The only way that could be accomplished was by keeping a cool head and not allowing herself to get too involved in the game. As soon as emotion or ambition or desire became too prominent in her decisions, the analysing began and all was lost from there. So she'd learned to recognise the signs of analysing and stop them before the game was lost.

She'd just recognised them now. Sure, one could argue that the hope of her conducting a successful seduction against Shikamaru was dwindling with every second that passed, and one would be correct in that argument. However, as soon as the analysing began all hope, no matter how little left, would disappear in a puff of smoke and stupid reactions.

So it didn't matter why Shikamaru had offered to walk her home. He had, so he would. She'd just have to salvage the situation as best she could.

It was only five minutes later when they were halfway to Ino's house that Shikamaru accepted that he was not going to get out of walking her home. That was five minutes of awkward silence and painful hope that he'd be relieved from said silence because Ino also found the awkward silence painful and said something relieving like "You've come far enough. Thank you" or even just "Go away" (wouldn't have been the first time).

But no. Here he was. Walking. Down a street. With Ino. And it was still awkward.

He had to say something. He'd been thinking (desperately hoping) that she'd be the one to say something, anything, but alas, she'd been silent since she'd said "Let's go" those long five minutes ago. Now that he thought about it he didn't remember ever hearing her be this silent for so long.

He thought about that for a moment.

Hearing her be silent? Does that make grammatical sense? Should I be worried, both that I cannot use sentence structure properly and that she's silent?

He thought about that for a moment.

Perhaps I should just say something. Then I won't have to think about my incorrect sentence structure or her silence. I should probably say something that won't piss her off though.

"I'm sorry about my mother."

He wasn't sure if that would come under the category of Things That Won't Piss Ino Off, but there was an alarmingly short list in that category so he took a blind shot.

Instead of turning to him with murder in her eyes (that had happened with distressing regularity since he'd been born), she simply looked to the ground and replied, with a sad smile on her face, "You mean when she basically called me a whore?"

Okay, he was definitely not smart enough to answer that question in a way that wouldn't grievously insult her. He didn't think any guy was smart enough to formulate a neutral response to that. However, if he stayed silent too long whilst trying to magically conjure this illusive response in his frantically active brain, she'd take it as confirmation that he agreed with his mother's assessment of her. Which he didn't. Not even close.

"Yeah, that would cover it," He looked over at her and immediately wished he hadn't. She wasn't made to look so sad. "I don't agree, though."

She laughed, but it wasn't the happy, musical, so-gorgeous-it-crushes-my-heart laugh that he was used to. It was harsh, and bitter, and all the things he didn't want her to be.

"Of course not, because I'm not a whore. If I were I'd be getting paid for all my various and numerous exploits. I'd be a rich woman, because I'm such a slut."

His eyes shot to her in disbelief. He'd heard her refer to herself as a slut, as The Slut, plenty of times. But she was always joking; always laughing as she said it in response to some ridiculous rumour she'd heard about herself. But now…now she was serious. There was no laughter, no hint that she didn't mean what she just said.

And he didn't know what to say. This was worse than being outnumbered on the battlefield with no strategy in play. If only love were as easy to navigate as a shoji board he'd know how to comfort her.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to comfort people. He had to comfort his mother on a regular basis, assure her that he wasn't going to die an early death. But that was easy. All he had to do was remind her that he was far too lazy to put himself in life-or-death situations, which was most often the truth bar a few exceptional circumstances like his friends dying and other such annoyances.

He had been comforting Chouji since he was a child as well. Chouji had many issues of which Shikamaru had to help him through: abandonment, identity, body, self-esteem, and so on. He wasn't a wreck, just a normal teenage guy that wasn't content with himself sometimes. However, comforting Chouji wasn't so hard either since he'd gotten the knack for it. Abandonment? Hang out with him for a week flat, not saying anything, just proving he'd always be there. Identity? Challenging him to a fight and letting Chouji roll over him a few times to prove his worth as a shinobi. Those were painful and didn't happen often, for which he was most grateful. Body? Self-esteem? Take him to the all-you-can-eat barbeque and remind him how much better food was than being skinny. Those times were usually a blow to the pocket, but what were friends for if not to blow outrageous amounts of money on food?

Now he found himself faced with a situation in which Ino needed comfort and he didn't know what to do because she'd never needed comfort before; at least not from him. In every circumstance she was always so strong and unbreakable. Some things people said about her would send weaker people hiding out in their rooms refusing to be seen in public again. Not Ino. She'd be back out with a vengeance the very next day, determined to prove the naysayers wrong, or, even more remarkably, do exactly what they'd accused her of doing to prove she didn't care.

All he could think to do was tell her the truth; tell her that he didn't believe all he heard about her and all she made people see. That perhaps he was naïve, but he saw an emotional fragility in her that wouldn't allow her to do some of the things people accused her of, things she claimed to do.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I don't want you to think I blame your mother for thinking what she does, or even saying it. I also don't want you to think that I pity myself, nor do I want you to pity me. I made myself who I am, and I take responsibility for it. I just…"

She hung her head down again, blinking rapidly, her fists clenching in his shirt that she wore. He wanted to do nothing more than hold her, but he waited. She wasn't finished yet and he desperately wanted to hear what she had to say next. She'd never been so candid, so open, so honest with him before. She was trusting him with something she'd never told anyone else before, trusting him to take it and not use it against her.

"Sometimes I can't help but wish that someone could see me for who I really am, behind everything I make people believe."

He sensed this was his moment. This was the perfect time for him to grab her, say something ridiculously romantic like "Ino, I see the real you" whilst looking deep into her eyes (proving both physically and metaphorically that he can indeed see her). Then she'd undoubtedly fall madly in love with him for being so sensitive and understanding. Then they would actually continue what started in his bedroom, right there in front her house, and then…well, he wasn't actually sure what would happen after that. Anything else would be a bit of an anticlimax, really. They could kiss some more. He'd like that.

However, the moment passed and he was abruptly wrenched from his somewhat silly fantasies with:

"I'm a virgin."

She'd done it again. She'd said something she'd previously had absolutely no intention of ever saying out loud, in public, to Shikamaru, to anyone, ever.

She continued walking for a few more paces, revelling in her stupidity and humiliation, before she realised he wasn't beside her any longer. Looking back confirmed what she suspected might have happened. He was frozen, mid step, a look of immense stupor on his face as he stared directionless into the space before him.

It was an understandable reaction, she supposed, so she wouldn't get mad at him for keeping her waiting, which was awfully generous of her she thought. She'd even take it a step further and wait for what she said to catch up to him. Observing the range of emotions his otherwise emotionless face would inevitably display was sure to be somewhat entertaining.

There was shock, disbelief (she'd been expecting that one), replaced by shock again, surprise, confusion, shock again, understanding, belief and…was that pleasure? Surely she must have read him wrong, but she was damned good at reading emotions. It was a part of her craft. So why would Shikamaru be pleased she was a virgin? Why would it matter to him either way?

Before she could think on that puzzle further, Shikamaru's body finally caught up with his brain (it was a common problem with him) and he made his way to her side. He still looked shocked, but there was something almost peaceful about him.

That made her mad. How dare he be peaceful when she'd just dropped the biggest secret of her entire existence out into the open air like that? How dare he be so serene when she'd just opened herself wide for him (no innuendo intended), allowing him to see inside the very depths of her (repeat previous thought)?

"That was unexpected," He stated once he reached her.

"Yes, I gathered that from the way you suddenly froze," She replied.

He nodded, "I supposed freezing mid step is one way to convey surprise."

"As is this," Ino did her best to imitate the range of emotions that had crossed his face, minus the last one. She didn't want him to know she saw that because she hadn't yet figured out what it meant.

Shikamaru grimaced, "I did that, did I?"

Ino smiled with glee at his discomfort, "Yep."

"How troublesome," He sighed.

And then there was silence. Again. She almost groaned in frustration. If he didn't say something she was going to say something and it'd probably be another revelatory statement. At the rate she was going today, there'd be none left to expose and she liked her revelations, especially when they weren't being revealed.

She'd kept her silence for a whole five minutes earlier. It was deliberate, of course. The plan had been to goad him into speech by making the silence as awkward as possible. That part of the plan had worked brilliantly. What he had decided to say, however, was not expected and therefore her response had been wrought from raw emotion.

So it was a bit of risk waiting for Shikamaru to be the one to break the silence, since it hadn't gone so well the first two times, but Ino was grasped by a desperate need to hear what he had to say about what she'd told him. Judging by the wide array of somewhat unexpected emotions that had crossed his face, he had to have some feelings about it. This was the man she loved, the man she wanted to see her more than anyone else, and she'd just gone and forced him to do just that. Her desire to know what he did see was almost a physical need. It was almost painful. It was-

"Well, I managed to walk you home."

Shikamaru sensed that he'd said the wrong thing. Again. It could have been the familiar murderous gleam in Ino's eyes that clued him in, or perhaps the way she clenched her fists at her sides as if she was about to hit him. It could also have been the clenched jaw, the stiff back, or her increasingly red face. He expected steam to make an appearance any moment now.

In hindsight, perhaps it would have been a good idea to spend a little longer thinking about what he should say. It was now obvious that she'd been expecting something somewhat emotional, or at the very least profound, in response to what she'd just told him.

He sensed he'd missed another opportune moment to make her fall in love with him by saying something ridiculously suave, like "You're still a virgin? Allow me to help you with that." After which she would inevitably become weak at the knees as she gazed up at him in adoration and lust and invite him to her bedroom where they would proceed to shed her of said virginity. It was probably one of the best ideas he'd ever had.

Then again, they were at her home and he had walked her there, regardless of what happened during the walking. Sure, now may not have been the best moment to state the obvious, but if she'd wanted something in particularly said, she could have said it herself.

Even now he had no idea what he was supposed to say. He'd never met another person so capable of making him completely stupid. How was he supposed to react when she done the unthinkable: given him hope.

He knew some girls didn't think much of virginity. He understood their reasoning. If they'd done everything else, what difference does a penis make? Physically, they're on the right track. Fingers, fist, penis – they all accomplish the same thing. Emotionally, mentally, they're wrong. Sex was about more than a good time and sticking a penis in a vagina. Bodies were made to have a penis in a vagina. It is the closest someone could physically get to someone else. It is a natural human inclination to want to be that close to someone, so close they're literally inside someone else.

All this time, he had thought that someone else had been the first one to experience that level of physical, emotional and mental closeness to the woman he loved. At first, it was hard to function from thinking about it, about all the guys that had been there since, about all the guys that would be there, inside her, close to her, when he would never be.

He realised that just because she was a virgin by no means indicated that she wanted to lose it to him, but it did mean he still had a chance to be the first one, the only one, who would know her that way, that intensely. He wasn't stupid. He knew it'd never happen, but hope had the ability to wipe all intelligence away.

It didn't matter that there was a good chance she'd done everything else. He just wanted this last part of her for himself, a part of her no one else could have. It wasn't because sex was good, even though he wanted her badly, it was because he loved her and love simultaneously made him selfless and selfish.

So how was he supposed to respond to that?

"That's all you have to say when I just told you the biggest secret I have, which I have told no one else?"

And how was he supposed to respond to that?

This was so troublesome.

"Ino," he groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion. "I don't know what to say. What do you want me to say?"

She clenched her fists harder, "I want you to know what I want you to say."

He rubbed two hands over his face, "That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to know that?"

"Argh, I don't know!" She ground out between clenched teeth, "You tell me! You're the genius!"

"That doesn't even make sense. You're being completely illogical."

"Screw you and your logic! You're being completely stupid!"

He frowned at her, "Not as stupid as you."

She scoffed, "Oh, that's mature."

Then it seemed all the anger just left her as she exhaled. She hugged herself, looked up at him, and looked down again as if she was afraid of what she might see on his face when he looked at her.

"Just…please, just tell me what you think."

Shikamaru was startled at the vulnerability she was displaying. He knew with a certainty that this time he couldn't answer by changing the subject or his usual "I don't know." He realised she had opened herself, her real self, up to him, not knowing he had been able to see it anyway and was terrified that he was going to reject her. As if he ever could.

But she didn't know that.

How did she get herself in this position? All she wanted was for him to answer her question properly without her having to tell him what to say so then she wouldn't have to be the one putting herself in the way of rejection, so he would volunteer the information she craved, so she could keep what little dignity she had left by not having to ask him to tell her what he thought of her now.

It hadn't worked. She should've known he'd be too obtuse for such a simple request. She should've just left it, recognised a lost cause when it was staring at her insufferably with an insufferably bored expression on its insufferable face, and gone away. Given up.

She couldn't. She loved him and she had to know what he thought of her now. So she'd laid all dignity aside and asked.

He was taking his time, but somehow she didn't mind. It was a sign that he was taking her request seriously, that he wasn't going to push it aside by changing the subject or replying with his usual "I don't know." That had to mean something, right? If he were disgusted, or whatever, by her he wouldn't bother to stick around, right?

And there I go analysing again. Disgusting.

"What?"

"What?"

"Did you just say something?"

Did she? "No, don't be stupid."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. She hated it when he did that.

"It sounded like you said 'disgusting.'"

"Well, I didn't," She retorted as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. Supreme gestures of superiority usually end the argument.

"No, you definitely said 'disgusting.' Your lips moved and everything."

Except for maybe this time. Shikamaru had never been one to appreciate and/or recognise such gestures.

"Well, if I did I didn't mean to and it must have been a subconscious reaction to your face."

"Oh. Okay then," Shikamaru replied neutrally.

Damn him.

"Go on then."

"Go where?"

"Nowhere!"

"Then why'd you tell me to go?"

"I didn't mean leave, I meant go on then and tell me what you think!"

"Then why didn't you just say that and save us a lot of time."

"Because that part of the sentence was meant to be unspoken."

"If it's unspoken, then how the hell am I supposed to hear it?"

"You're not meant to hear it, you're meant to understand it."

"You're not making sense again."

"I'm making perfect sense. You're just being stupid."

"If I'm being stupid, it's because you're being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous! Well, you're just-"

"Shut up."

Before she could understand what was happening, she felt herself being pulled off balance in a general forwards direction until she was stopped by a large solid mass (nice and firm, she noted) that had solid appendages that wrapped around her. Only one thought occurred.

Shikamaru is hugging me.

And for the first time in a long time (possibly since she'd come screaming out of her mother's womb), she was completely and utterly speechless.

A/N: I know, I know. It's unbelievably cruel of me to leave you on a cliffhanger like that! Please don't be so mad at me that you won't review, though, even if it's just to say I HATE YOU! Perfectly understandable. I'm just a little curious to see if I've still got any writing skills left after such a long absence ;)

Til next time...whenever that time will be.