Many waters cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it. Love is as strong as death.

"Temari, if you make me kiss him, you will regret it." Gaara's voice brooked no opposition.

She's the extractor, not that she looks it. Most people walk on by her without realizing that she can–and will make their lives agony beyond their imagining to get what she wants. She comes in looking like little more than a florist's daughter: low necked shirt, mesh, a short skirt and a bundle of flowers wrapped up. Her gloves are long and made of thick leather which the poison can't quite get through. She plucks a hybrid rose and examines it a moment. Let the prisoner think a geisha has come to him; she's had training in that manner as well. Unlike Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve, Ino could be the honeypot, the poison thorn.

This day may have arrived sooner than she originally thought, but Yoshino couldn't have said she was all that surprised.

In the aftermath of war, Temari stands beside him, steady. And Shikamaru finally understands.

Shikamaru walks into a trap

30 young sand sibling drabbles, wherein Temari is (sometimes) a lady, Kankurou doesn't play nice with the other kids, and Gaara is perhaps a little socially inept.