InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Come Hither's Shticky Shorts - Vignettes & Other Nonsense ❯ DETOX ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Rumiko Takahashi owns Inuyasha; therefore, I do not.

 

The following POS is just a gag - a spoof, really - on a word that is used excessively in Inuyasha fan-fiction: “intoxicating”- as it pertains to the scent of Kagome's arousal. Now understand, I mean no offence to any of you who have used it in the past. I'm just getting sick of seeing it over and over again. Can we find a new one?

 

Just so you know, what you are about to read is morally bankrupt, highly inaccurate on a number of levels, and probably a little gross. Yes, I do know better. But ya know what? I really don't give a rat's patoot. It's been a crummy few weeks, and I won't bore you with the details, so let's just say that I think I've finally lost my marbles - and could care less. This is more or less an effort to loosen up and shake it off, and is not in any way, shape, or form meant to be taken seriously. Go away if you're looking for something serious, meaningful and beautifully written, `cause this ain't got none of that crap.

 

Also, I'm sure that none of you care, but this is not the response to SplendentGoddess' triple-dog-dare. That is coming in the near future, just as soon as I can pull my happy ass out of this slump and figure out how to clone myself.

 

DETOX

 

Kagome's twentieth birthday was supposed to be a milestone event that marked her passage into adulthood. She could now get smashed lawfully, and planned on it.

 

Still traveling back and forth between times, still hunting shards, still head-over-heels for nincompoop of a hanyou who was too blind to see it; her life had become the proverbial stale donut, sitting abandoned on a shelf long enough that the sugary glaze had gone so brittle that it cracks and flakes like old touch-up paint when you bite into it.

 

Her smile at that analogy was rather like cracked donut glaze: thin and transparent. How's that for a long and exaggerated simile on the quality of my life.

 

On the bright side, Naraku had finally trudged off to the netherworld when Kagome, in a blind fit of PMS rage, shot a purification arrow riddled with vast quantities of spiritual energy fueled by enough estrogen to cripple a bull sperm whale at the height of breeding season. Estrogen can do a lot of damage. You'd get a sympathetic groan from any male who'd ever been on the receiving end of that tricky hormone which on the one hand can deliver an unparalleled level of passion, and on the other hand can blow a male to smithereens with the minutest of fluctuations. Lethal stuff, really. Various governments have tried to use it as a weapon, but failed due to its natural volatility.

 

At any rate, Kagome decided she needed to get rip-snortin' drunk what with being legal and all. And why the hell not? It wasn't as though she didn't appreciate a little chaos in her life. Hell, she loved it, because the alternative (a life of mundane activities such as paying taxes and working herself to death in a boring job) wasn't particularly appealing.

 

In all honesty, Kagome loved what she did. Over time, she'd grown to value her insane lifestyle. She felt almost spy-like since none of her friends and acquaintances from her world could ever know what she was up to. In her younger, sillier years, it was a nuisance to try to cover her tracks with ridiculous diseases that one couldn't catch even if they visited a whorehouse in some jerkwater town plagued with Ebola, The Clap, Shingles, Gangrene, Leprosy, Mad Cow Disease and Spondyloperiwinkleitis.

 

With maturity came that seize the day attitude that recognized that not everyone gets to live out a fantasy. Sure there were ups and downs (mostly of the dead variety), sure there were days that could tear apart the souls of those with weaker constitutions, but what the hell good was having a life if you didn't feel every little dip and rise?

 

All that being said, Kagome was cognizant of the fact that adrenaline rush after adrenaline rush eventually inures a young mind to seemingly apocalyptic events. That, in part, is why she decided she needed a single day of pretending to be a normal girl in a normal world where the worst that could happen was a hangover that could level Mid Town Tower. Well, that and she really needed to evaluate where her life was going. Actually, scratch that, she knew where she wanted it to go, she just wasn't sure if Inuyasha was game. Years of being in his company brought her to the conclusion that he wasn't the type to take kindly to being sneakily seduced, and their relationship was at a standstill. He was a tough nut to crack, and she was beginning to wonder if anything she did would ever break that shell.

 

She had no way of knowing that Inuyasha was in almost the same predicament. Furthermore, she had no way of knowing that his mental set of balls had finally grown to match his real set. Not his battle balls; those were already huge, but his love balls which were pretty insecure and tended to retreat up into his body like he'd dunked them in a really cold stream. And who could blame him? His previous experience with love had left him quite gun-shy.

 

But he overcame the odds and his love balls had finally descended. Look out below!

 

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He'd waited. Oh, how he'd waited, and waited some more. Why he wasn't quite sure, but some little cog turning in the deepest recesses of his mind told him to wait before he laid claim to his other half.

 

Part of him wanted to blame it on her, waiting not so patiently for Kagome to ripen into the beautiful woman she had become while maturing enough to handle the rigors of demonic mating, because not only did it require flexibility of body, but a whole hell of a lot of open-mindedness.

 

Yet another part of him, the part that said Kagome could handle anything he threw at her, and did on a daily basis, knew that was a load of hooey, a crock of crap… an excuse. It was an excuse that the blunt, more primal side of his nature knew was just a cover for what he couldn't give her: stability. Inuyasha wanted, no, craved the opportunity to provide that for her, but knew that this was about as stable as it was ever going to get. Maybe she would choose him if he tried hard enough. It was a long shot, but he was nothing if not stubbornly single-minded when he set his mind to a task.

 

He sighed. She'd broken down his shell so long ago that she was now practically imbedded in his soul. Her modern ways didn't grasp the concept of split-apart, or that the act of sex formed an entire and complete being. Split-aparts always felt a little hollow when not joined by their other half. Future people didn't get that. Sex was just a pastime for them. Somehow, he found it hard to believe that Kagome would treat it as something to merely pass the time. Her mind may be futuristic, but her heart and soul were in the past with him. He was sure that somewhere down deep, Kagome had to feel it at least a little.

 

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A miko's blood stream is an amazing thing. It is vastly different from your average Joe Schmoe's. The way it processes alcohol and some of the weaker narcotics is truly remarkable. Yes, they could get a buzz. Yes, they could get a pounding headache, if nothing else to humble them. However, debilitating hangovers are virtually unheard of. Vomiting is not an option for a miko. Why? You may ask. Well, the answer is twofold…

 

Reason part one: Physiologically, a miko tends to purify any and all traces of foreign substances and/or possessing entities that attempt to weaken the miko. Alcohol is a foreign substance; therefore, it is purified… uh, processed in a strange way. Rather than processing it through the liver, as a normal human's metabolic functions do, a miko simply bypasses that route altogether in favor of sweating it out directly from the pores, and secreting it in all other bodily fluids. While some of the effects remain the same, by and large, the blood alcohol concentrations remain low.

 

What does this mean? Kagome could drink twelve nasty-ass shots, catch one hell of a buzz and still pass a breathalyzer, whereas one of her pathetic friends could drink half that and end up under the table.

 

Reason part two: Traditionally, mikos' lives basically sucked. They weren't supposed to love, they weren't supposed to know of the carnal pleasures in life; they were only around to serve the greater good. They were somewhat comparable to Plato's civic guardians, so they might as well get tanked when they could, off duty of course. It was the only escape allotted to them in life otherwise designed to serve, protect, and purify. The gods, smart chaps that they were, realized that a hung-over miko was a useless miko and gifted them with a nearly demonic metabolism. But over time, the gods saw how slack humans had become and figured that if they didn't give a shit about the health and maintenance of their own cities, then why the fuck should they?

 

And that is why today's mikos are an unruly bunch of drunkards who live for parties and are no longer trusted to protect their way out of a wet paper bag, for the most part anyway. This sweeping generalization did not apply to Kagome, though. In fact, there really weren't any applicable generalizations where she was concerned. Kagome was unique.

 

A trembling and pale hand clasped the edge of a dry wooden well frame, hoisting up the equally pale and trembling hung-over figure well into stage three of the aftereffects of an uproarious night of binge drinking.

 

“Aw shit!” proclaimed the pained vocal chords attached to the guardian who'd spent a night screaming overtop subwoofers that could put a fully transformed dog demon's bark to shame. “Damn sunshine. Damn glare,” the vocal chords explained to the air because nobody else really cared. Birdies chirped in a nearby tree. She yelled at them to “Shut the hell up… Friggin' birds.” Vaguely amused, they ignored her and kept on chirping.

 

All in all, it could have been much worse. Kagome's head was aching terribly and she had a wicked case of the shakes, but was otherwise intact. Her brain, in a desperate attempt to replenish some much needed oxygen, forced a gaping yawn to stretch her tired jaw just as she heaved her body half-way over the ancient wooden brim.

 

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a clawed hand grasped the back of her shorts, and as luck would have it, gave her one hell of a wedgie in the process of hauling her out of the abyss of time.

 

Once her feet hit earth, Kagome discreetly set her underwear to rights and addressed the red-garbed figure.

 

“Howdy,” she said.

 

“ `Sup…uh, yo?” he returned, sounding rather uncertain of her era's new-fangled language abuse. Inuyasha furtively snuck a couple of whiffs of her scent. His cute little upturned nose went haywire. Something was way off with her scent. He sniffed again, analyzing the individual components of her aromatic signature. Hyacinths, clover, and a pinch of nutmeg were all present as usual, but overpowering all of that was the peculiar scent of alcohol.

 

Vague memories of his misspent youth and an unfortunate mishap were triggered by the abrasive smell oozing from her pores. Suddenly, it all clicked. She smelled like a distillery, he noted with dismay.

 

Kagome groaned, holding her head in her hands. He could have gotten angry, but what good would it do? Besides, whatever price she was paying right now was worse than anything he could say to her. Plus he felt a little sorry for her. The hanyou hated seeing his other half in pain, even if it was self-inflicted.

 

Nevertheless, he wouldn't be deterred from his goal. Today was the day, hangover or no. Hell, it might even make her feel better. Better yet, he didn't think she could summon the energy fight him over it. In his mind, there was still a slight possibility that she would say no. She may love him, she may be attracted to him, but that didn't mean she would choose him in the end.

 

He wondered if she held his initial two year prick phase against him. Kagome wasn't the type to hold a grudge, but he had said and done some pretty stupid things back then. The moment she woke him up from Kikyo's spell, he knew what she was, but fought against it, terrified that if he grew to trust her she would betray him too. Years ago, he thought Kikyo might have been his split-apart, but something always felt off, incomplete when he was near her. It was like having a cup of water that was three-quarters full, but still missing that last and most satisfying gulp. The very thought of Kagome being the one when she was the reincarnation of the miko who turned on him in the first place was depressing to say the least, and always left him on edge.

 

At first he cursed himself for falling in love with Kagome because he just knew how it would end up. The potential for disaster was too great. But she never did betray him, and eventually the prick phase wore off. She'd proven herself trustworthy time and again, so he dropped the act.

 

In the last three years, they'd grown closer. Time did what it does best… pass, and Inuyasha came to the conclusion that he'd be damned if he would let her go without a fight.

 

Reaffirming this thought, the hanyou shook himself out of his mental twisty-tie. Without any warning, he swooped her up and bounced away from the well in a direction that would take him far away from and potential meddlers.

 

Only when he was a reasonable distance away did he somewhat explain. “We're gonna have us a little chat. After that, I've got something that will help you feel better.”

 

“What?” She was curious.

 

Me, he thought. Aloud, he said, “You'll see.”

 

On he ran, swiftly and silently. The gentle rocking motions of his body soothed his hung-over miko, and she fell into a twilight sleep with her cheek nestled against his chest. And if he had his druthers, that's where she was going to stay indefinitely.

 

About eight minutes later, as the hanyou flies, Inuyasha came to a stop in a secluded clump of forest, sat down with Kagome in his lap and daringly brushed his lips over his sleeping split-apart's. She mumbled something that might have been his name and groggily parted her lips. An invitation is an invitation regardless of whether or not it was made coherently, so Inuyasha took full advantage and parted his own. An inquisitive and very sensitive tongue tip wandered into her mouth and skimmed its mate.

 

Kagome's eyes snapped open when the curious feeling of her tongue being caressed by something warm and slick registered, only to be met with the sight of a very close pair of glimmering golden eyes with the lids at half-mast. Needless to say she was quite surprised. She tried to say his name, but failed considering she had a mouthful of his tongue. Shocked as shit? Yes. Did that stop her from enjoying the moment in order to demand an explanation? Not a chance in Hell.

 

Wow, her head was even feeling a lot better.

 

When Inuyasha pulled back with a final tender little fang nip to her lower lip, she shuddered, and then gazed at him in astonishment. “Wha…” she tried.

 

“How's your headache?” he interrupted.

 

“Quite a bit better; still hurts some, though. Um… what's going on?” The hoarseness and cotton mouth was still fairly annoying.

 

He didn't answer at first. Instead, he leaned forward and sniffed at her. The alcohol scent was just as potent, so he concluded that she must still be processing it out of her system. He sighed and sat back to look at her. Unconsciously, his hand that wasn't supporting her was lightly caressing her thigh.

 

“Look, I'll save the long drawn out explanation for later, but for now, here's the deal - you are my other half. When the jewel is complete, you're going to have a decision to make. I won't force you to stay here, but I won't let you go without a fight. Consider this fair warning, because I'm not going to be pulling any stops in trying to sway your decision when the time comes.” The authoritative tone of his voice was a complete put-on. Inside, he was an anxious mess.

 

Kagome looked at him blankly for a moment, and then blew his whole argument out of the water. “Who ever said anything about me leaving?”

 

“Huh?” Inuyasha questioned stupidly. His ears had never failed him before, but there was just no way he heard her right. He was very confused, and rightfully so. Wasn't she always rushing back to her world because it had things she wanted and couldn't get here? And now she was implying that she wasn't going to escape back to all that?

 

“I said, who ever said anything…”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I got that part, but I thought you would rather go home than stay with me because your world is more stable. It's dangerous here. I've been waiting for things to settle down so that I could try to give you at least a little of the stability your world offers.” His voice was mystified because he honestly couldn't understand what the hell was going on in her head.

 

Kagome burst out laughing. “That's what you've been waiting for? You dummy, I could give a shit less about stability or my world. It's boring. I don't want boring. I want excitement, I want danger, I want a guy in a garish red outfit, with silver hair, golden eyes and impossible ears. I want you, ya dork.” Her laughter ceased and she sighed, shaking her head. “And to think…all this time we both could have had what we wanted instead of pussyfooting around.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle again, simply because it was either laugh or cry, and it was far better to laugh in the face of wasted time.

 

Then her giggles turned more genuine. “Besides, you're probably the only biped on the planet that can make ear hair look sexy, so when you're eight hundred and sixty-four, it won't be a turn-off.”

 

Inuyasha took a few moments to process this information. Frankly, it was a bit much to take in. Like with everything else in his life, he'd been expecting a fight. Instead, he was told in a roundabout sort of way that he was more important to her than the very thing he always thought would take her away in the end. Was he dead? Was he sucked into a parallel universe somewhere? Were the gods playing some cruel prank on him? And just how the hell did she know that she'd be around in eight hundred years or so?

 

An amused voice broke him out of his insecurities as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. “You know, you've really gotta stop underestimating yourself, and me for that matter.” She rolled her eyes and sarcastically added, “Surely you don't think I'd just up and leave you. I've got way more willpower than that. Plus, I'm a miko - we get special concessions if we don't piss off the gods too badly. I get one request, and I'm sure Midoriko will put in a good word for me when we free her, according to what Kaede told me.”

 

 

He gawked at her for a full five seconds. A somethingth of a second later, her laughter was abruptly terminated by a pair of warm lips determined to shut her up.

 

His determination to shut her up quickly evolved into something far more salacious. Soon he forgot why he wanted her to be quiet at all. The tiny moans and quavering exhalations that eked out between brief gaps of air where their lips weren't touching drowned out all other sound. A giant oni crashing through the woods could have crept up on him. Nothing mattered as long as she kept doing that. Although, he must admit to loving the way she was peeling off his uppermost layers and the way her hands were touching him in gentle mesmerizing strokes.

 

Sweet and sensual, relentless and demanding all at the same time, the kiss gave way to movement without any truly conscious thought. They were both on autopilot. She somehow wrestled him completely out of his robes, and the moment he felt the contact of her warm breasts and perked nipples against his chest, he could have died a very happy man, not just because it felt good, but also because of the excitement being this close to her brought. This was the closest he'd ever been to his other half. The thought alone was enough to energize and paralyze him at the same time. He was desperate for more, but didn't want to give up what he had right then.

 

Kagome was in much the same condition. Perhaps it was the remnant of her hangover, but she had even less command over her faculties. All she could do was feel his hands roving over her flesh, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, his lips flowing over her own like silk, his tongue provoking hers, and the strange magnetic pull of her body to his. More than just sexual, it was almost a spiritual draw he had on her, and she on him. Hokey as it may sound, it was as if they were made for each other.

 

The passage of Kagome's hand over a ticklish spot on his back woke Inuyasha up with a little jerk.

 

In the small breaks for breath between kisses, he managed to utter a whispered request. “Kagome, will you…”

 

She cut him off. “Do you really have to ask?”

 

Kagome's vision suddenly went all white and strangely ribbed. It occurred to her that she might be more hung-over than she originally thought. But that idea was quickly dismissed when she realized that the white was her cotton tank top being yanked over her head. Following its flight path to a nearby tree branch, she was startled to discover that her bra was right behind it, intact.

 

“How did…”

 

“For Heaven's sake, Kagome… you really think I don't know how to get you out of your clothes by now. I've been studying your ways for a long time now, though I'm not too sure about those `shorts' things of yours.”

 

Strange to be having this conversation while his hands were exploring the soft curvature of her breasts.

 

“Mmm, you're so soft. You feel better than I could have ever imagined.”

 

Before she could get a word in or even have the chance to shudder under his delicate caress, one of those hands skimmed its way down her side and over her thigh.

 

“Pretty color,” he said, fingering the edge of her pale yellow shorts, dangerously close to the short inseam and her crotch. “It'd be a shame to rip them off you, but I could if you don't hurry up and lose `em.”

 

When did he get so infuriatingly straightforward? Who cares?

 

“Alright, alright - hold your horses. You have to let me move a little so I can get to the buttons, Inuyasha.”

 

“Okay, but just a little,” he said, barely letting her shift enough to accomplish the task.

 

“Sheesh, greedy; I'm not going to run off on you. Give me some wiggle room,” she complained, hoisting herself to her knees with some trouble and going to work on the buttons.

 

“Nope. I like touching you. Now I have every right to do it as much as I want, and you can bet your ass I'm never gonna stop.”

 

She started to roll her eyes and laugh at this, but the second that last button came undone, she found herself on her back and her shorts flying in the general direction of her bra and shirt. She didn't even see or feel him move.

 

“What the… Whoa!”

 

The hand on her thigh crept upward until his thumb was precariously positioned on the tendon connecting her pelvic bone to her leg, exerting just the right amount of pressure to trigger the reflexive spreading of her legs wide open in complete surrender.

 

That was the only warning she got before his clever tongue found and manipulated that spot that turns women into opera singers. Inuyasha decided her voice was quite melodic, and enthusiastically endeavored to make her sing some more for him. Best of all, it was his name she was belting out. He liked that, a lot.

 

She was so wet, and he was so excited that he only noted in passing that her natural taste was disguised by whatever she'd been drinking last night. It didn't deter him at all, and he kept at it until he could taste only her. The hanyou didn't even notice the buzzing in his head until it was too late and he was lit up like a bonfire.

 

Wobbling up to hover over her legs, he slurred, “Daaamn, girl… watchoo bin drinkin'?”

 

Not really sure why he was asking or acting so strangely, Kagome replied, “Saquilameisters.”

 

His lips were apparently too numb to frame the question on his face, so Kagome explained. “A shot of sake, a shot of tequila, and a shot of Jägermeister.”

 

It was a toxic brew so vile that it could put hairs on the chest of even the most testosterone deficient male. Luckily, Inuyasha had no idea what tequila or Jägermeister were, otherwise he would have barfed at the mere thought of it.

 

“Fuggin' intox… intoxi… in-toxi-ma-cating.” With that, he flopped over her spread legs, passed out dead to the world.

 

Kagome looked down her body at him and sighed, feeling guilty. She supposed they could pick it back up tomorrow when he was sober.

 

 

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Can't say I didn't warn you. If you read this and are royally disgusted and/or PO'd right now, blame yourself because I gave you a chance to run away. And I bet there are at least a couple of you out there who have though the same thing.

 

Oh, I must give credit where it is due. I borrowed the split-apart concept from some old movie from the 80's. Can't remember the name of it. If anybody knows, tell me and I'll add it to my notes.

 

Lotsa sloppy love,

Come Hither