If I Ever Feel Better

| Starter call for Shikamaru! No cap, interests include:

Temari was glad he didn’t seem to notice the red tint to her cheeks. IT was true she was already starting to feel the subtle haze that came over most people when they started to get tipsy. Not that she would ever admit that to him.

“You never told me you worked at a bar.” she huffed out at him, gulping down her drink like it was nothing more than a coke. “And your no better suited, I came to drink my cares away and enjoy this delicious long Island.” Unsure of what prodded her to be sassy, either his comment on her drinking or the fact she didn’t know he’d be here, now she was hell bound on drinking more.

“Hmph.” she audibly grumbled again and snatched a napkin to wipe at whatever it was he had pointed at. Probably the discoloration, but there was nothing more she could do except wipe off what makeup she had hastily patted on her cheek. She hated wearing cover up anyways.

“Where did you even learn to mix drinks? Though I’ll admit, this kinda gig does suit you.” The finishing of her drink was signaled with gurgling of ice and what little liquid was left. She sighed and resisted clutching the glass to her face again.

Where did he learn to mix drinks? Shikamaru stirred up the first of her two orders, pondering the question with careful silence—how mad would she be if he said all he had to do was YouTube for a half hour or so to get a grasp on the basics and picked up everything else after he’d landed the job? The interview was pretty easy; he impressed the owner with his memory skills and somehow his passive attitude worked well with what the guy was looking to hire.

Nah, saying any of that would definitely piss anyone off.

“Life works in funny ways.” Ambiguity was troublesome when personally dealing with it, but it seemed to work well as an evasive maneuver, so he’d wing it. He raised an eyebrow as she finished off her drink in hand just as he finished preparing the next one—he hadn’t taken that long, had he? At this rate… Did she always drink this much?!

“You know, I don’t think this has ever had a chance to come up in our colorful conversations.” They were absolutely vivid, what with his determination to make them seem one-sided by feigning interest in other things as they would chat; but he couldn’t risk not actually listening. That was what he continued to tell himself…

“I think if it had, we could have gone into detail about tolerance levels.” He pushed the new drink towards her pointedly, eyebrow still sky high. “And exactly what cares you’re drinking away. Have anything to, uh, do with all of this…?” He indicated to his just below his own eye, eyebrows finally grounding into a confused furrow.

“Did I promise that? I can’t recall….” Temari teased right back at him, getting her heightened spirit back at his expression. She may not kill him today, but his responses to her teasing were just irrisistable and worth the trouble of the dishes she would have to do later.

Perhaps he was a fool though to follow someone home and into their apartment while not really knowing them, but she didn’t say that. Instead she held her breath and watched him with a bemused smile on her face, waiting for him to taste it. 

“Not going to kill you?!” Temari started laughing, it wasn’t exactly a compliment, but it was still better than the reactions of her brothers. Kankuro was usually yelling and upset about something too often to comment on food. Gaara was… well Gaara. “I’m flattered, I may have to keep you. Try it with ketchup.” Temariw as still smiling to herself as she took a large bite.

“Selective memory, huh? Should have pegged you’d have as much.” He stabbed towards her accusingly with the utensil, lip jutting out by the slightest margin. “Doesn’t matter. There was probably a witness or two in the surrounding area. I just have to… find them…” His voice trailed off into a groan—that was already way too much work more than its worth. “… Or concede this battle as a fair defeat. But I’ll get you saying so next time.”

His ears burned at the keeping comment—but he didn’t bother addressing it, instead silently opting to do as she suggested and add ketchup to her cooking’s mix. “The moment of truth, huh? If it’s not satisfactory, I’m just gonna take this bottle as rightfully mine and head out.”

He took a bite with the addition and—

“I’m a sprinter, moving slow isn’t my thing.”

Temari beamed and kept her arm threaded through his. Even being honest wih herself, she wasn’t sure why she was this excited. She had enjoyed a few festivals before with her brothers, she loved the food and sometimes the rides that were there. But it almost seemed like an entirely different awaiting experience, possibly because she had a certain quiet man next to her. 

Not willing to dwell on that, she decided to fire a question at him as they walked. “What kind of booth is your family running? Anything considered ‘fun’ for the common fun loving people?”

“Consider potential passengers when moving about so maniacally,” Shikamaru grumbled under his breath—without malice. If anything, the hint of a smile quirked at his lips as he stole a glance over to his excitable companion. Was she always so cheery…?

… She was asking about his family’s booth. Well, there was truth behind almost every lie, right? “How interesting that you’d bunch yourself with people that consider themselves ‘common’.” Snide remarks aside, he rolled back his shoulders with a sigh.

“Nothing they couldn’t do at a farmer’s market. But I think my mom wanted to show off her candy apple making abilities. She puts a lot of effort coming up with so many different kinds when the basic type will suffice for this kind of thing… But I guess she genuinely enjoys it…. Oh. They have other fruit desserts, too.”

The hell was taking so long? Temari huffed and leaned onto the counter, still playing with her ice. Suddenly getting an idea, she lifted it to the injured side of her face and lightly pressed it to her cheek. It gave her a sting at first, but the cool glass eventually started to numb away the soreness she felt, and she let out a releived sigh. She didn’t really care if the makeup faded from her actions, it was just so people wouldn’t stare. A few more drinks and this pressed tenderly to her face and she’d be good. 

Temari jumped as the voice registered with her, her own dark green eyes widening at the new person behind the bar. “Sh-Shikamaru! What are you doing here!”

Her face flamed almost painfully at his remark, and she unwillingly released the cup she had been nearly cuddling to her face. Immediately sweeping up her fresh long island and starting to suck it down as well. Of all people to see her in this state, he wasn’t one she favored. Unsure if she was going to be teased or pitied, she threw out another order. “I’ll be needing another one of these soon.” She emphasised on the quarter of the glass she had already drank. “Burbon and coke would be good too next.”

“Temari.” It seemed obvious, but he said it anyway—“I work here.” He took back the cleaned out glass and leaned against the counter lazily, elbows forward. “I think I’d be better suited to asking that. But the answer might be as apparent—assuming you know what you’re doing by drinking these down so fast.”

He noted her orders and acknowledged them with a roll of his eyes and makeshift salute, fingertips tipping off his forehead. “… Like I said. But I’ll keep them coming. As you wish.”

--It was when he started to straighten out that he noticed a sheen off her face, where she’d been holding the drink. From the sweat of the glass, maybe? The lighting was too dim to make much of it, so he waved in front of her with his free hand, gestured to his own face where it would be, and said, “Got something right here,” before spinning around to fix up her iced tea.

“Eye contact is troublesome.”Why did she have to point it out?—

It was tough enough having tolive down an “It’s cute like that,” after thinking she’d been fidgeting withher hair too much—he didn’t have to look at her immediately after if he didn’twant to!

As expected, a tactless comment on gender. But he redeemed himself before she could muster a glare in his direction. At the very least he seemed raised by a strong woman, you would think he would’nt be so…. Laid back. Or that was her logic. But his words did seat some comfort in her, she really should be thankfull for having partners that looked out for her safety. Better that than someone who would much rather you be shot first. 

“Thanks…” She murmured quietly, still a bit shocked that he would have made her feel bettter, even more so that he had read her so easily. Her brother’s usually showed no acknowledgment to her emotions,but would simply let her work through them by herself. 

She listened to him as she fixed both plates, making sure to turn the oven off as well. A fire wouldn’t make a good impression either. The thought occured to her that, if anything, she would enjoy his company again should her food be up to standard. As she worked she did catch the change of conversation, and curiosity gnawed at her as why he hadn’t declared a major yet. Temari had been forced into her particular career path and studies, and even then she knew she would like to dabble in art. How it was that he didn’t know his own major… confused her at best. But akward and inquisitive as she was, she could take a not so subtle hint. 

“Ah well it’s only interesting when they start throwing chairs and desks.” Temari returned with two full plates, balancing one in each hand. “Food time! A la rat poisoning!” She said it sarcasticaly and she slid them onto her medium sized table, bounding back for silverware and her beer. 

He wavered and picked at the beer can tab on his drink, half expecting some form of reprimanding—as brilliant as he was with board games and assignments and the like, he was sure of his struggle for smooth communicating. He could get his points across, no problem—but he had often been told that he needed work with his deliveries. And, surely, when talking to any troublesome woman, there was a heightened counter working against his attempts at keeping the peace, especially when it came to talking.

But, it never came. Instead, he was—rewarded. With a soft thanks.

He peered up at her, but she’d already moved away to finish up whatever she was working on—at least, her motions screamed of finalization. Shikamaru allowed himself another gulp before making his way to the table, muting the subtle prod of pride that stirred upon the word of gratitude. That was nothing to get excited about.

--Especially if he was about to die. He stared at her until she returned her, balking. “You promised me you were a decent cook!” A sharp inhale and his sense of smell returned with information—it didn’t SMELL poisonous. Or offensive towards rats. He reached for the silverware hesitantly, pausing just before his fingers could graze it. “This was your plan, in the end, wasn’t it? Taking those classes with me really ticked you off, didn’t it? This is revenge. I’m no fool.”

Her eyes widened in admiration upon hearing his explanation. “So, you have photographic memory then, in a sense? Or you just pick up really well? In any case that is truly amazing. Don’t waste a talent like that!” Her head shook and she smiled at him, “keep up the good work!” A stack of cards was then offered to her and she held her hands up and shook her head. “Oh no no, not really. No. I…am more of a person who can do tricks with their body, and not cards.” She gave a sheepish laugh.

“Oh. No, it’s not a—“ No. At this point, it would be best to forfeit all attempts at denying it and instead embrace this laughable image he has wrought upon himself. Ah, well. If anything, it was just one girl. And, she did seem rather impressed and it would be infinitely more troublesome to dampen this vibrant impressionability. He succumbed. “I just pick things up very quickly. Thank you. I’ll… keep at it.”

Temari ‘humphed’ when he tugged her to a stop, with sudden realization she glanced around, as if hoping directions would appear in front of her. “Heh… Sorry… I think I just assumed it would be in the center of town?” Luckily he had stopped her before she got too far. 

She relaxed her grip on his arm, hoping she hadn’t bruised him or anything. She was by no means bigger than him, and only just as strong as she needed to be for her line of work. But it wasn’t known if the younger man brused like a peach or not. Temari would never hear the end of it if she left a mark.

Not that she minded him bothering her in her free time. Offering a guilty smile she apologized again. “Sorry, you should probably lead the way. But let’s not crawl there!”

Ridiculous girl. Shikamaru cleared his throat and straightened his shirt out, disheveled by the slightest at her initial burst of energy. They hadn’t even reached the festivities yet… But it wasn’t as though her enthusiasm was unfavorable either—if anything, it would have been worse if she’d seemed less than enthralled to check out the carnival…

But, anyhow.

“We won’t be crawling. But leisurely strolls are adamant for good health; take them into consideration every now and again.” –which probably wasn’t true, but he wasn’t exactly jumping to run over there, even if he was sort of looking forward to see what had been cooked up.

“--…Actually, you have the right idea.” Well, she wasn’t stupid, after all. “It’s right beside there. Just around the shopping center. This is the right way.” Which meant he hadn’t necessarily had to stop her, but—

Her posture? Was that really a problem? And did she really stand like that - all important like and what not? She didn’t try to. It was snobbish and she most definitely was not a snob. Standing straight, she sighs some, her shoulders slumping.

He was right - it was just coffee. But even still, she had to shield herself.

“Oh my goodness.” She sighs, placing a hand on her hip.

“I’m looking for no one, really. If anything, I suppose I’m hiding. Well, not hiding per se, but…staying out of the way? If it makes sense.”

He breathed out through his nose, a short laugh—was that a fix? “Pockets are a slouch’s greatest friend.” He shrugged, shifting a little ways so as to indicate to his own adapted lounging stance. “But it’s not as though that’ll pull the entire trick through. It’s a process.”

--Hiding?

mxndokusei

‘I don’t even know what to start with…’ Temari thought as she pushed open the door to good times bar. Slinking to the far corner of the room before too many people could notice her. She had dressed up in hopes of cheering herself up, but it didn’t help her damaged pride or sore cheek. 

The makeup covered the slightly swollen purple flesh of her face well enough, but it still stung when she touched it. The last thing she had expected was for some punk to throw a right hook at her, but it was too late now to linger on it. All the blonde wanted now was to get wasted and forget the whole morning ever happened. 

“Long Island please.” Temari asked the bartender, scooting herself into the stool at the very end of the bar near the corner. Interacting with people was the last thing of interest to her until there were at least a few drinks in her. 

Temari offered her best smile for bar tender when her drink was handed over. She quickly downed half of it, already wanting another before she finished her first. It was going to be a long evening. She ordered another and sucked down the rest, playing with the ice in her cup as she glanced around the bar finally. It wasn’t too crowded at all, which to her was good, more quiet time while she drank. Less likely someone would spot her as well. 

Long Islands were good and simple and not too much of a hassle, so when Shikamaru stalked in to cover his coworker’s break, word of the requested drink didn’t immediately annoy him. “Who’s it for?” He remembered to intonate his question this time—recalling that this particular coworker had an issue with the flat way Shikamaru spoke. Completely bothersome, but less trouble than starting a cold war of sorts with someone he had to see every end of the week.

The client in question was pointed out to him—someone near the furthest possible seating area of the bar. Another good point—people who opted for that section tended to be more mild, desiring nothing but a quiet night out—just them and the drink. He nodded at the indication, sent his coworker off, and finished up the drink with no issues.

Of course, as he raised his gaze from the glass to properly look over the customer, his eyes widened—marginally, but, how could they not? The familiar tufts of blonde hair and striking face—it was… definitely Temari. –Well, she was of age, but he’d never seen her there before.

He almost turned around to bid his quiet evening a wistful goodbye as it sprinted out the front doors.