InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Sango's Advice, A Family On The Mend, and Help With The Dishes ( Chapter 19 )

Sango stirred her coffee and paged through copious notes, trying to organize before her next appointment. She had just gotten off the phone with Kagome, who was in the waiting room of Rin's dentist and feeling especially chatty. After hearing that her date was more interested in her as a female source of advice, Sango was expecting to get an earful of boo-hooing, but instead Kagome only wanted to talk about Sesshoumaru. Of course she stubbornly ignored Sango's statement that she was obviously crushing on him, insisting that they were only friends. It made Sango wish she could reach through the phone and throttle her.

 

Her office line beeped and the receptionist announced, “Ms. Mori, you're ten o'clock is here.” The appointment, a consultation, was a last minute addition, and she hoped it wouldn't take too long. “Fair warning…he's really, really attractive.”

 

A moment later Sango looked up to see a tall, white-haired, really, really attractive man enter. “Sesshoumaru? Why are…are you my ten o'clock?” He was the last person she would expect to see in her office. “What are you doing here?”

 

Sesshoumaru approached and replied, voice cool and direct, “I want to talk to you, and I thought this would be the easiest way to avoid Kagome finding out.”

 

She startled with confusion and suspicion, and, trying to keep from blushing like a school girl at his compelling presence and the way he filled the small room, busily shuffled papers. “Oh?” She motioned for him to take a seat. “And what is it that you wish to say that precludes Kagome?”

 

“I want to know what happened to her. This reluctance to date…why? She told me about the assault and PTSD. I know that has something to do with it, but I also know she had an active sex life for at least a few years afterward, and so there must be something else.”

 

“Why do you want to know?” She needed to hear that his interest was real and not just her imagination.

 

They locked eyes. “I'll be frank. I enjoy her company and find her attractive. I want to learn the rest of her history, and she is remarkably reticent on the subject for one who is so otherwise willing to share personal details.”

 

Sango steeled herself, refusing to be intimidated. “I hate the No Men thing as much as anyone, but I also understand the reasoning behind it and am extremely protective of her. How do I know that you aren't just going to use her?”

 

He quirked a brow knowingly. “Let's be honest, Sango. That wall with which she surrounds herself is begging to be breached. If I wanted to merely seduce her I'd have done so already. My intentions are entirely honorable.”

 

Sango felt she was about to become included in a conspiracy and happily pushed away any initial misgivings. “I'll help you…but you realize Kagome will have my head if she finds out. I need your word that this stays between us.”

 

“You have it.”

 

After Sango had gotten him a cup of coffee, she sat back down and sighed, praying she was doing the right thing. “As long as I've known Kagome, she's always fearlessly embraced her sexuality,” she began. “Even the first few years of college, when most of us were train wrecks waiting to happen, Kagome had an honest, healthy attitude about sex.” Sango paused and thoughtfully sipped her coffee. “I don't know how much she told you about the criminal trial. The defense wanted to paint a scenario that they were involved in a relationship consisting of consensual rough sex and that the events of that night were just an accident. They interviewed a bunch of her past partners and dug up all kinds of dirt, and Kagome was terrified they would find pictures of Kikyou, who was a part of the local BDSM scene at the time, and try to say they were pictures of her. During the period it took for the trial court to review the motion in limine—listen to me…can you tell I'm married to a lawyer?—during that time, she went to pieces. The idea that they would take such a vital, vibrant part of her and twist it and lie about it and use it to possibly excuse someone who practically killed her…had her scared beyond belief.”

 

“Justifiably,” Sesshoumaru said, feeling his anger rise.

 

“Fortunately the trial judge determined that such evidence, even though she wasn't the victim of sexual assault, would fall under the Rape Shield Statutes and ruled it inadmissible. Afterward…I still feel guilty that I didn't see the signs more clearly. I was thoroughly distracted by grad school and wedding planning, and though we all knew something was wrong, Kagome could fake Cheerful expertly.” Sango shook her head sadly, recounting Kagome's slide into rock bottom. “Kikyou knew a therapist, a gay, ex-priest heavily into bondage, and he helped Kagome work through a lot of the feelings of doubt and shame that the trial had imprinted on her…feelings that weren't part of her psyche before. Nine months or so later she had clawed her way out of depression and, after a few hesitant baby-steps, embarked on a long series of one-night-stands and experimentation and very short, very intense relationships that both parties knew would burn out after a week or two. Inuyasha and I were at first worried she was engaging in risky, self-destructive behavior, but Kikyou—the woman just knew her sister so well—recognized the truth. Kagome was reclaiming herself, her sexuality, but on her terms. She purposely chose for partners people who would never offer any kind of commitment, short term or long term. By not having to take any chances emotionally or spiritually, by not getting too close, she was protecting herself. Eventually Kikyou convinced us that Kagome knew what she was doing—taking back control of her life in a way she could manage at the time…and she was right. Kagome certainly wasn't lying to herself about shallowness of her relationships, and she was a condom fanatic.”

 

Sango watched Sesshoumaru's reaction for a moment, checking that he wasn't taking it too negatively. Once satisfied, she continued. “This went on for a few years, and Kagome began to feel like she was ready for something deeper. She was doing an art fair and met a cardiologist…wealthy, successful, attractive, polite. In short he was the man mothers envision when fantasizing about sons-in-law, the exact opposite of the guys she had been with. He wined her and dined her, but things never progressed beyond hand-holding and the making out stage. Kagome thought he was being chivalrous, but the reason was much less romantic. Dr. Hojo was a boob man. He had a…tit-fucking fetish. One night he confessed that, though he really liked her as a person, her body didn't turn him on. But, he offered, he would pay for her to get breast implants…said he knew a plastic surgeon who owed him a favor.”

 

Sesshoumaru, who had long been of the opinion that Kagome's legs were incomparable, looked at Sango with disbelief. “And what happened?”

 

“You know what she looks like. She's gorgeous the way she is, and besides that, with her slender build a huge rack would look ridiculous. Kagome's not the type to modify her body to please a man, so she declined and never saw him again. I would have killed the jerk, but Kagome just said she was glad he was finally honest with her, and besides that, she's very non-judgmental about other people's kinks. Unfortunately though, the whole thing left her pretty shaken. She liked him enough and wasn't necessarily that upset about his rejection, but it still hurt and all the fears about sliding back into depression returned. `What will happen when I get dumped by someone I really care about?' was her reasoning.” Sango laughed softly. “Back when we were freshmen, Kagome and Kikyou joked that they were the President and CEO of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. She never saw her chest size as a negative quality, but suddenly it was, bringing up a lot of insecurities about her sexuality from the trial. She decided that dating wasn't worth the fuss and potential heart ache, so she swore off men forever and began amassing her very impressive dildo collection.” If Kagome ever finds out about this, she thought, I'll need to enroll in the witness protection program.

 

“So that's the reason? She's afraid to trust someone?”

 

“I think it's more complicated than that. She's not afraid of rejection; she's afraid of her reaction to rejection. She's terrified of ever feeling again like she did after the trial. I really can't blame her, but I do think she's ready to move on, and she's just using the not needing a man thing as an excuse to avoid taking a chance on herself. Kagome's the most self-aware person I know, except on this issue. She's so deeply in denial…she's convinced herself that she has no interest in you beyond friendship.”

 

Amber eyes narrowed at the implication. “And how do you know that is not in fact the extent of her interest?”

 

“I'm not stupid,” Sango smirked.

 

He felt slightly more at ease. “So what do you suggest?”

 

“I hope you're patient.”

 

“Not especially.” In the world of real estate acquisition he excelled at waiting, knowing preternaturally the perfect moment to strike. In his personal life however, he was unaccustomed to having his wants and needs unfulfilled. “I'm leaving the country on Sunday for two weeks.”

 

“You'll want to wait until you get back,” Sango advised. “I know she's attracted to you, and if you tried to get her in bed I doubt she'd put up much of a fight, but then while you were away she'd come up with five hundred reasons why it was a mistake and should never happen again. No…she'll need immediate and frequent reinforcement to force her to get outside of her head. Take your time and tread gently; she'll come around.”

 

Though not the worst news he'd ever heard, Sesshoumaru wasn't pleased. He was a man of action and disliked the idea of keeping the status quo for the better part of two months.

 

XxXxX

 

As he sped toward the Taisho mansion, Sesshoumaru pondered Sango's words and advice. He still had trouble fathoming a healthy, heterosexual adult male who deemed Kagome unsexy, but then he had always been more captivated by long, shapely legs, and Kagome's were perfect according to his criteria. The new details of her history didn't really change his picture of her; rather than feel pity, he judged her an interesting, alluring challenge. If the trip abroad wasn't so important, he would have actually considered postponing it. He turned into the driveway and saw Kagome walking the path to the guest house, clumsily juggling three grocery bags and keys.

 

He parked the car near her and grabbed a bag, just before it fell to the ground. “You can make more the one trip, you know,” he said, his tone absent condemnation, but rich with the teasing she so often directed at him.

 

She laughed her thanks. “My hero!” Once they were in and bags deposited on the kitchen counter, Oberon, splitting his time between the two of them, received his greeting. “I thought it would be nice if Rin and I and you and your parents could all have dinner together tomorrow evening…before you have to leave. I've already talked to your mom and she said they don't already have plans. Please tell me you can come! I would have cleared it with you first, but I was running around all day and my cell phone lost power. I'm making Italian,” she added, hoping it would convince him.

 

“That would be…very nice,” he said with a small smile. Having dinner with Kagome and Rin sounded like the ideal way to spend his last evening at home. Even the addition of his parents to the party didn't detract from the anticipated pleasantness. His father had been complaining much less in recent weeks and was positively giddy at the prospect of Sesshoumaru's trip and the opportunity to diversify their investments; they were both of the opinion that the corporation was too heavily reliant on real property.

 

Relief softened and gladdened her features. “Oh Yay!” she squealed, squeezing his arm. “Will you tell your mom we'll have appetizers at five thirty and sit down for dinner at six? I hope that's not too early…with school starting I need to get Rin used to being asleep by eight. She's turned into quite the little night owl this summer…up past nine if I let her.”

 

“That will work fine,” Sesshoumaru nodded, recalling his schedule. “I should be done packing by then. International travel always has so many more issues to take into consideration.”

 

“Is your flight early?” she asked.

 

“Very. I arranged for a car and driver to arrive at quarter to five.”

 

Kagome winced. “Four forty-five? That's the most painful thing I've ever heard.” She shuddered, banishing the notion of waking up at a time that she frequently was just going to bed. “Oh, I need to warn you about something. I told Rin that you were taking a trip and would be gone for a little while, and she didn't handle it well…that fear of abandonment I mentioned. I showed her on a globe where you were going and reassured her that you were coming back, and she calmed down a lot, but expect more than the garden variety clinginess.” She began to unpack groceries.

 

“As long as the clinginess is not accompanied by another tantrum, I think I'll survive.” He watched her as she took out at least a dozen Republic of Tea of canisters, including several varieties of green, black, decaffeinated, and herbal teas.

 

“It was on sale,” she commented, noting his dubious countenance. “Would you like to stay for a cup of tea? As you can see, I've got plenty.”

 

He hated to decline the invitation. “I would, but I need to get to work. In addition to the details of the trip, preparation includes ensuring that things function smoothly here while I'm gone. Our latest luxury hotel is scheduled to open in half a year, but problems keep cropping up.” He made no move to leave. “You must be getting along well with my father. He's stopped referring to you as `that Higurashi woman',” he said pointedly.

 

Kagome grinned. “Every time I bring Rin over to spend the night, we end up playing cribbage for at least two hours. I like your dad, despite all his best efforts to the contrary. It's like there's a Crabby Old Man Award out there that he's dying to win. But we have fun; he's really quite cuddly beneath that sardonic façade…and he's told me a few funny stories about Yasha that I never knew. Stuff from when you two were really young.”

 

Sesshoumaru smirked, wondering what his father's reaction would be at hearing the word `cuddly' applied to him, then became serious. “I should thank you, Kagome. My family has a tendency to indulge in unhealthy levels of silence, melodrama, and guilt. You've helped my parents come to a great deal of peace regarding my brother's death.”

 

She was touched, and the familiar lump in her throat rose instantly. “I think where ever he is, Inuyasha's thankful too,” she said, voice quavering.

 

He nodded, still somewhat uncomfortable with her raw displays of emotion. “I should go. There are several loose ends that I must see to before the business day is over. Five thirty, you said?”

 

“Fifty thirty,” she answered.

 

He moved his car into the garage and entered the house, to find his parents in the kitchen. His mother was sitting in his father's lap, arms around his neck, and they were laughing together—the whole scene was an unprecedented occurrence. Thankfully he excelled at unflappability and didn't flinch.

 

“Sesshoumaru, darling,” his mother said warmly, not moving an inch. “Have you spoken with Kagome? She's—”

 

“Yes, Mother,” Sesshoumaru interrupted, tickled by his father's attempt at pretending he hadn't been caught acting like a teenager. “She'd like us there at five thirty.”

 

Mr. Taisho rose abruptly, depositing his disappointed wife on the floor and nonchalantly said, “Sesshoumaru, I'd like to go over a few things about the contract disputes before you leave. Come to my study in an hour.” He tried to ignore his son's obvious amusement. “That dog had better behave himself. You know I don't like animals. We'll walk over to Kagome's house together tomorrow, but now I've got to return some phone calls.”

 

Rose Taisho watched them leave. Still running away, but without the deliberate tension. Kagome's house. Not the guest house. The label did not escape her, and she was truly, completely happy for the first time that she could remember. The dark cloud of Inuyasha's death had lifted enough that she could breathe, made possible by the changes in her husband and son and the child next door. And she knew she had Kagome to thank for all of it.

 

XxXxX

 

At five thirty sharp Rin, beaming beatifically, opened the door to the three Taishos, who were bearing a bottle of Chianti Classico and a bouquet of Asiatic and Oriental lilies. “Hi!” she sang. “Is that for me?” Her eyes were bright and wide at the sight of the colorful flowers.

 

Rose looked down permissively at her granddaughter. “Not the most polite greeting I've ever received, but it will do.” She knelt down to the girl's level. “These, dear, are for you and Kagome as a token of our appreciation for the dinner tonight. Now, you should invite us in.”

 

“Why?” Rin asked, somewhat confused at the formality. “Are you vampires or something?”

 

Kagome swooped in, snickering guiltily. “Ahh…Inuyasha's fascination with monster movies…the gift that keeps on giving. Please, come in.” Kagome accepted the flowers and bottle with gratitude, commenting that the wine would be lovely with the first course, to be served shortly. Rin ushered the guests into the living room and related her trip to the dentist the day before, glowing about the verdict of no cavities. After a few minutes Kagome returned, first with four glasses and the now-opened bottle, and a minute later with a tray of bruschetta.

 

“I helped Kagome make the bread,” Rin said, daintily lifting a piece, careful not to spill any of the tomato topping. “I put the slices on a pan and rubbed them with garlic and brushed oil on them.”

 

“My good little girl,” Kagome said. She watched nervously as the dog trotted over and slowly approached Mr. Taisho. A newcomer in the house, even one with apparent permission, was to be treated with caution. Mr. Taisho eyed the large, black beast with distaste; dogs, in his opinion, were best enjoyed by others. Certainly not by him, indoors, around food. As if on cue, Oberon wagged a few times, nudged Sesshoumaru affectionately, then went back to Kagome and stood loyally at her side. Kagome scratched behind his ears proudly; he had passed the test and would be allowed to remain a member of the dinner party, albeit one not actually allowed to eat or imbibe.

 

Kagome socialized and answered Mrs. Taisho's questions about her art for a few minutes, then went back into the kitchen to take the Stuffed Eggplant from the oven and sprinkle it with grated Pecorino, aglow at hearing Rin politely ask Sesshoumaru if she could sit next to him at dinner.

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru pulled the covers back so Rin could climb into bed. As the evening wore on and bedtime approached, his niece's anxious sadness overtook her normally cheerful disposition, and now she was literally dragging her feet. “Rin,” he said firmly, heeding Kagome's advice to not be a doormat, “it's late, and you need to get into bed.” She complied, but with teary puppy dog eyes that he knew were not contrived and tugged on his instinct to offer comfort.

 

She lay down and sought refuge in her pillow. Her voice was muffled, “I'm afraid you won't come back.”

 

“Don't say such foolish things.” He pulled the child into his lap. “Is it because of your parents?”

 

She nodded, not daring to look at him.

 

“Rin,” he commanded gently, prompting her to raise her face. “I will be back; I promise. But while I'm gone, I'll send you emails about my trip and your aunt can read them to you.”

 

Rin was still sad, and she remembered Kagome's strict admonition that she may not urge him to stay. “But you're gonna miss my first day of school.”

 

He smoothed her hair away from her face. “I'll tell Kagome to take lots of pictures, and we can look at them together when I return. And this year I will spend as much time in your classroom as I can.”

 

This brightened her up a little. The children who were lucky enough to have parents or other caregivers with flexible schedules to allow them to help in the classroom were looked on with envy. She snuggled in his arms, and, though she hated for him to go, he made her feel safe and his reassuring words her gave her confidence that he would be back, just like he said. She crawled off his lap and lay back down. After he covered her and tucked her in, she yawned and asked, “Will you stay here until I fall asleep? I'll try not to take long.”

 

Sesshoumaru understood what Kagome had said about consistency in not capitulating to the girl's whims, but he decided this time he could make an exception. “Would you like me to read to you?”

 

“No, just sit next to me,” Rin mumbled, already fast approaching sleep.

 

XxXxX

 

“Well,” Kagome announced, returning to the living room with a fresh bottle of wine, after clearing the table of dessert plates and the leftover cannoli, “hopefully bedtime goes okay. I have a feeling Rin's going to have him wrapped around her finger without even trying.”

 

Mr. Taisho and Kagome sat, while Mrs. Taisho examined a woven wall hanging. “This is lovely,” she commented. Moving on to a series of framed black and white photographs of pregnant Kikyou, she nodded at the composition appreciatively, then turned and asked, “Kagome, I hope I'm not being too forward, but do you have any photo albums with pictures of Inuyasha? I understand if you have that kind of thing in storage, but Ken and I would be very grateful if you would share whatever you have available.”

 

Kagome stood and went to a bookcase. “The bulk of it is in storage…I was a very prolific photographer once upon a time. I made sure not to pack up the things Rin would want easy access to, though.” She pulled out a thick book; the front and back covers were hand-hammered copper and had red silk bindings. “Their wedding album. I commissioned the metal from an artist friend and bound it myself. The silk was leftover from Kikyou's dress. She wanted a unique wedding and decided the color red was more fitting than white, along with a female…me…Best Man. Really the whole event was unusual. They didn't have much money and decided the little they did would be better spent on a nice honeymoon, so we skipped the caterer and had a pot-luck instead.” She sat back down and was a little surprised at the rather shocked expressions of the Taishos; she had always assumed Sesshoumaru had told them the wedding of their younger son was on a shoestring budget and flew in the face of tradition.

 

She opened the book, and the first picture was of Kikyou, her face delicate against the sun filtering through the window in the background, looking over her shoulder at Sango, who was apparently zipping the dress. Kagome gasped sharply at the image of her dead sister. When she photographed Kikyou, someone who looked so like her, she always tried to capture an angle that she herself couldn't easily see in a mirror—a profile, a downward cast of the eyes, a view from behind. Her sister's calm strength and presence never failed to move her; she was an ideal subject. The facing photo was Kikyou and Sango, arms linked and looking askance at each other, appearing to the rest of the world that they shared a private joke, and Kagome felt her breath catch at remembrance of their carefree younger days.

 

“Your sister was beautiful,” Rose said. “Where ever did she find such an exquisite dress?” Kikyou was wearing a scarlet silk strapless dress, with an asymmetric drop waist and full, gathered skirt and copper beads sewn in intricate patterns over the bodice. The same beads were threaded into her hair, making it sparkle in the sunlight.

 

“I made it…my first wedding gown,” Kagome explained, shaking her head wearily. “I was in way over my head, but managed somehow at the last minute to pull it off. I was up the whole night before beading the damn thing. Kikyou had wanted a much simpler sheath dress, but I insisted on fancy, and she was prepared to kill me if I hadn't finished it.”

 

Rose recovered after a moment and closed her open mouth; she had known Kagome was talented, but the style and craftsmanship of the dress was truly impressive. “My dear…artist, photographer, couturier…Sesshoumaru tells me you are gifted with a lovely singing voice, and this evening we've discovered you know your way around a kitchen. Is there anything you don't do well?”

 

Kagome, never really having considered herself anything much more than average, blushed from the praise and attention. “Uh…I can't manage my personal life very well.”

 

Mr. Taisho snorted, “I can't comment on your personal life, but I'll add shrewd card player to my wife's litany of your accomplishments.” This remark caused Kagome to redden even more deeply; he won almost every time they played, but she liked to think she posed a challenge to him.

 

The next photos were taken in the room where Inuyasha was getting ready; the whiskey bottles, ashtrays, and a large bong visible in the background were clear evidence that the scene was markedly different than the one taking place in the bridal dressing room. The first was Inuyasha and Miroku raising shot glasses in a toast, followed by several of Inuyasha and Kagome, arms around each other, laughing and crying.

 

“He looks very happy,” Mrs. Taisho observed with a melancholy smile.

 

“Yeah, he knew what he wanted.” Kagome had to choose her words carefully, knowing that they viewed their son's marriage to her sister as the worst mistake of his life, or at least they had at the time. “He missed you that day.”

 

The following pages were of the casual ceremony and reception, held outdoors at a private garden. Inuyasha and Kikyou staring at each other in adoration, exchanging rings, kissing to make it official. Inuyasha and Kikyou—arms curled—sipping champagne, cutting cake, playfully shoving it in one another's face. Inuyasha and Kikyou dancing, holding hands as they watched the sun set, more kissing. Kagome turned the page, entranced with the memories, and was dragged back to the present moment by both Taishos bursting into laughter. The photo that had their attention was the two brothers, seated together. Inuyasha had his arm around Sesshoumaru and was wearing what could only be described as a shit-eating grin; Sesshoumaru was glaring daggers at his younger sibling, obviously displeased with the close proximity.

 

“How many times have we seen that, darling?” Mrs. Taisho giggled, momentarily forgetting her poise and reserve. She explained, “I couldn't tell you the number of pictures we have that are variations on that theme—Inuyasha acting a fool and Sesshoumaru wishing he was an only child. The trend began with Inuyasha's first birthday. He was strapped in a highchair, throwing cake, while Sesshoumaru patiently sat next to him, praying we would look away so he could perpetrate some sort of violence. It continued with each birthday and holiday. Always the distinct personalities of both brothers in stark contrast.”

 

Kagome smiled gleefully, then turned the page and instantly teared up, her humor at seeing the relationship of the Taisho brothers, so perfectly displayed, replaced by a beautiful sadness. In front of her was a picture of Inuyasha and Kikyou, about to embark on their honeymoon, waving goodbye to their guests. To her it looked like a final farewell, and she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

 

“Kagome, thank you for showing us this,” Ken said, closing the book and taking her hand. “Knowing our son was happy has made his death more bearable. And thank you for bringing Rin into our lives.”

 

“You're very welcome,” she replied earnestly, glad she could help bring some needed healing to her best friend's family.

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru, satisfied that Rin would stay asleep, entered Kagome's living room to find both women embracing and tearfully laughing. His father looked at them with tender tolerance, rather than with the expected disdain, leaving him with the feeling he had walked into an alternate dimension. “Pity I never learned the lyrics for Kumbaya,” he said dryly.

 

Rose wiped her eyes. “Sesshoumaru, I assume you've gotten that precious child off to Neverland. We were just reminiscing.” She reached for her husband's hand. “Darling, we should be going back. Kagome, thank you for a delightful dinner and most pleasant evening. We hope to do it again soon.”

 

Kagome accepted their thanks and watched as the couple bade Sesshoumaru goodnight and wished him a productive business trip and left, Ken's arm curled affectionately around his wife's waist.

 

“Do you think they're gonna go get busy?” Kagome asked rakishly.

 

Sesshoumaru frowned. His parents' sex life was an even less appealing topic of conversation than that of his brother, though seeing them together, so happy, gave him a contentment he had longed for as a child.

 

“Sorry,” she cooed, teasing, “couldn't resist.” The empty wine glasses and dishes in the sink refused to be ignored. “Time to clean up.”

 

“Would you like some help,” he offered, not ready to leave her warmth and honesty…and beautiful, perfect body.

 

She gaped, surprised. “Do you even know how to do dishes?”

 

“Hmm…I think I remember that there's water and soap involved,” he deadpanned. “I'm a quick study.”

 

Kagome's laughter sparkled as he followed her into the kitchen. As the sink filled with hot water, she handed him a towel. “Any objections to opera?” Upon hearing none, the Vivaldi they had listened to during dinner was exchanged for a collection of Verdi and Puccini arias. Sesshoumaru uncorked the half-empty bottle of Sangiovese and refilled their glasses, watching her gracefully move around the kitchen and wondering how bad the fallout would be if he ignored Sango's suggestion of waiting and simply bent Kagome over the countertop and lifted her skirt. “What?” she asked, puzzled. “You're staring at me.”

 

“Nothing.”

 

They stood next to each other, washing stemware, knives, and pots and pans, comfortable silence interspersed with Kagome grilling him about the details of his upcoming trip and other travels.

 

“I've never been out of the country,” she pouted, suddenly feeling unworldly and boring and was reminded that despite their new friendship, Sesshoumaru's life was very different from hers.

 

“Where would you like to go? If you could choose one place, what would it be?”

 

Kagome smiled; he was engaging her in conversation. “Umm…anywhere? Right now, listening to this music and drinking this wine, probably somewhere in Italy. Florence or Venice. What about you? Where you would go, purely for pleasure?”

 

Venice with you, he thought. “I would like to visit the Great Wall or the pyramids of Giza.”

 

She was impressed, expecting something more glamorous. “Ooo exotic…I like the way you think, Sesshoumaru.” She turned away abruptly; he was staring at her again.

 

“What are your plans for the next two weeks?” He sensed she was becoming shy and, remembering his conversation with Sango, hoped to keep their interaction casual and flowing.

 

“Well, Rin will start school, so I'll be volunteering at Haven, and I have a commission project to finish. And thank fucking god for that—it means getting paid. After that I've got a gallery show to prepare for. It's at the new place on Summit, the Franklin Gallery. A great opportunity, but I'm gonna be busy as shit…I have a few completed quilts and tapestries and several more that are near done, but none of them are showstoppers, so I've got assloads of new pieces in front of me. All good…I'll sleep sometime in November.”

 

“I've not seen much of your work apart from what you've got displayed here at home. Will you show me another time…soon?”

 

His interest surprised her. She knew Mrs. Taisho was a collector and potential patron, but didn't realize he valued art. “I'd like that. I'll dig out my portfolio when you get back.”

 

The dishes were clean and put away, the wine bottle empty. He could make a move or excuse himself.

 

She made the decision for him. “I hope you have a safe trip. It's not too late yet, so I think I might try to get a little work in on my column. Sometimes I do my best writing when I've been drinking.” She felt her stomach lurch over her choice of words; apparently she was getting too complacent around him. “Did I say writing?” she tittered self-consciously. “I meant sewing. Sewing. A column…on a quilt.”

 

He didn't understand why she was suddenly so flustered, but the brush-off was plain. “Goodnight, Kagome.”

 

She walked him to the door and paused. Part of her wanted him to stay, but a larger, louder part told her she was playing with fire. Safety, as always, tipped the balance. “Goodnight. Have a good trip. See you when you get back.” She hugged him quickly, trying to avoid awkwardness; they had developed an easy rhythm with each other, and she hated to see it go. He thanked her for the lovely evening and exited, leaving her to contemplate how much simpler it is to be close friends with a gorgeous man when he is married to your sister.

 

XxXxX

 

September had brought cooler temperatures, but Kagome still was drenched in sweat when she returned from her morning run with the dog. Rin had been back in school for almost two weeks, she felt like she worked nonstop, and taking a hot shower was the only thing on her agenda, the only thing that would make her feel human again after getting less than four hours sleep the night before. She turned on the water and critically examined her eyebrows, deciding tweezing could wait until tomorrow. Her plans at cleansing however were derailed when she tested the water; it wasn't even lukewarm. Something wasn't right.

 

She turned off the faucet and trudged down the steps to the small basement. “Holy shit!” she screamed at the sight that greeted her. Steaming water was pouring from the water heater, rapidly flooding the basement. She quickly tip-toed through the half-inch deep lake on the floor to the pipes, following them to find the water main. Once it was shut off, she ran upstairs and found her cell phone, anxious that Mrs. Taisho, currently at her riding lesson, wouldn't answer.

 

“Kagome?” Mrs. Taisho's voice at the other end sounded concerned. Kagome sighed with relief and explained that the water heater had sprung a major leak. After receiving assurances that Mr. Taisho would be notified to take care of the problem as soon as possible and that she was welcome to go into the main house to use a shower, Kagome grabbed some clean clothes and a towel and crossed the path to the Taisho mansion.

 

Kagome had been in the big house more times than she could count, but never alone. Anita, Mrs. Taisho had informed her, was currently out picking up dry cleaning and going to the grocery, and Kagome couldn't help but feel like a trespasser. She knew all the bedrooms were upstairs, but wasn't sure which one to take a shower in. Rin's had only a half-bath, and the idea of using the Taisho's bathroom seemed like a violation of privacy to her. She crept up the staircase and wandered down the hall, away from Rin's and the Taisho's bedrooms, thinking the guest rooms would be located in a different area. She opened a random door at the end of the corridor and hesitantly entered.

 

She found herself in a spacious, elegant suite, made bright by large leaded-glass windows. There was a leather sofa and matching arm chair, a glass-topped coffee table, and a cherry desk, all pieces in a style much more contemporary than the furnishings in the rest of the house. This was obviously not a guest room. She stepped up to the built-in bookcases and perused the many titles. The subject matter was a curious mixture of various schools of philosophy, history in general and Asian history specifically, and several different disciplines of martial arts. Kagome realized she was in Sesshoumaru's study, but couldn't force herself to leave. She had assumed his reading material would be boring books on business and finance, and, amazed at the unexpected diversity, wanted to know more. She moved over to the McIntosh stereo system and the largest collection of classical music CDs she'd ever seen, spanning centuries, with everything from Gregorian chants to Gorecki.

 

The urge to keep snooping was irresistible, and the large desk called to her Pick Me! The drawers housed the usual denizens—pens, calculator, stamps, files. She sat in the big comfy chair and saw that one of Rin's drawings of the girl and her uncle had been framed and was sitting on the desk next to a cypress bonsai in a shallow terra cotta container. “But where does he keep his porn,” she whispered naughtily, opening the long middle drawer. In it was a picture of him and Inuyasha at the latter's high school graduation, both exhibiting the facial expressions so accurately described by Mrs. Taisho. There was also a picture of his parents, a picture of Rin, and a newspaper clipping of the accident that killed her sister and his brother. Closing it slowly, she lost the creepy fun of doing something forbidden, but couldn't quite pin down this new feeling that had taken its place.

 

She went into the neighboring room, Sesshoumaru's bedroom, the furniture therein of a similar contemporary design. The view through the wide windows showed the manicured lawn and gardens, and the guest house was also visible, leading her to wonder which window this was when she looked up from outside. She lay down on the king-sized bed and sighed. They had been in daily contact via the internet for the nearly two weeks he had been gone; each email began with a short, friendly message to Rin, followed by a lengthy one addressed to her, chronicling the non-business portions of his trip. His colorful representation of Singapore was vivid, using rich, imaginative language that made it seem like she was there and several times had her laughing out loud. She thought it interesting that a man who was such a minimal conversationalist wrote with such eloquence.

 

Then she understood what the earlier feeling was. She missed him. Not in the hot, raw way that she missed Inuyasha and Kikyou and her parents; not in the Gimme A Hug way she missed Rin when she was at school. She missed him quietly, calmly. Remembering the reason she was at the big house in the first place—to take a shower—she got up. Why not here? she decided. He's not coming home for a few more days; he'll never even know. She retrieved her clean clothes and towel from the study and went into the adjacent bathroom.

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru paid the cab driver and entered his house, temper barely held in check. He had to cut his trip short a few days because a dispute over construction estimates was threatening the arena project yet again, and, though his underlings were competent, he really only trusted himself to strong arm the city council and straighten things out. That he had to leave suddenly, before matters in Singapore were completely finished, rankled. The flight back, marked by long delays, crowded airports, and crying babies, only made his mood worse, but his luggage being lost somewhere along the way seemed symbolic of the nightmarish last eighteen hours. And instead of taking a much needed nap, he only had enough time to change clothes before going to the office to prevent the implosion that was about to happen.

 

He walked into his bedroom and, hearing the shower, stopped short. The door was ajar so he pushed it open wider and looked into the steamy room. On the floor lay running shoes, shorts, tank top, and sports bra, next to a neat pile of folded clothes, and then he heard singing.

 

You won't admit you love me and so
How am I ever to know
You only tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

 

Kagome, he realized, was taking a shower in his bathroom, and, though this left him extremely confused, his mood improved dramatically.

 

A million times I ask you and then
I ask you over again
You only answer
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

 

The water turned off, and a moment later the glass door opened and Kagome stepped out. She was wrapped in a pink Hello Kitty towel, her dark, wet hair clinging to face and shoulders. She kept singing as she looked in the cabinet under his sink and sniffed the contents of a bottle of body lotion.

 

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't want to wind up
Being parted, brokenhearted
So if you really love me, say “yes”
But if you don't dear, confess,
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

 

Sesshoumaru watched as she put a foot on the edge of his sink and applied lotion to a long, toned leg. He was quite sure he'd never seen anything so incredibly sexy in all his life. She repeated the song while she did her other leg and arms, and he continued watching, feeling not a single second of guilt. It was his bathroom, and after all the irritation he had recently been put through, he felt the universe owed him something. Even her voice was lush and sensual, and the lyrics of the song did not go unnoticed.

 

He stepped into the room and put his hands on her hips. She jumped at the unexpected touch and spun around, eyes wide with shocked surprise. He placed a finger on her full, red lips to silence a protest, then traced along the edge of her jaw, stopping to brush the damp hair from her flushed skin. His hand continued down her slender throat, stroking and feeling her pulse race beneath his deft fingers. She leaned into him and twined her arms around his neck, neither caring that his clothes were getting wet. He drew her closer and covered her mouth with his own, just as he felt the towel fall to the floor and—

 

“AAARGGGHHHH! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Kagome had wiped the fog from the mirror and saw him standing in the doorway. “GREAT SUFFERING GODS, YOU SCARED THE LIVING, BLEEDING FUCK OUT OF ME! ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME?”

 

Dammit she can ruin things, he thought. “You kiss Rin with that mouth?” was all he managed to get out before she started screaming again.

 

“JESUS BRICK-SHITTING CHRIST! WHAT THE IN THE BLESSED FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

 

“I'll remind you, I live here,” he answered gruffly. “Please, for the love of god, stop screeching.”

 

She calmed down a fraction. “Shit! Fuck! I thought you weren't supposed to be back until Sunday.”

 

“There is an emergency at work that needs my attention.” Even angry and exercising her foul mouth, she's undeniably attractive, he ruminated, wondering if the situation could be salvaged.

 

“The water heater burst,” Kagome explained, then remembered she was clad only in a towel and saw that he had a rather large bulge in his pants; the ire returned instantly. Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled. “You…PERVERT!” she snarled. “HOW LONG were you FUCKING standing there?” She snatched up her clothes and ran out, blushing red and scowling murderously at him.

 

He closed his eyes, hoping he had time for a cold shower.

 

&&&

 

I do not own Inuyasha, nor can I lay claim to Republic of Tea, any locations in Peter Pan, McIntosh audio equipment, or the song Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps (or the original Spanish Quizas, Quizas, Quizas). Thank you all so much for reading this ridiculously long chapter.