InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Transparency, Sharing Sleep, and Fast Cars ( Chapter 33 )

Unburdened by the demands of a noisy alarm clock, Kagome woke with a delicious slowness, fading in and out of sleep for twenty minutes until her consciousness finally cleared out the cobwebs and realized something wasn't right. In addition to the usual heavy mass of dog lying across her legs, there was a dim glow coming from the other side of the bed. She blinked sleepily as the white-haired figure next to her came into focus. “Sesshoumaru? What are you doing here?”

 

“Waiting for you to wake up.”

 

“What time is it?” She turned over and saw that it was a quarter after eight, and in her cloudy, post-nap haze briefly wondered if it was a.m. or p.m. “Shit!” She bolted upright, clutching blankets to her naked chest. “I only meant to sleep for a couple hours, not almost five. Rin—”

 

“Rin is fine,” Sesshoumaru said. “My parents took her out to dinner and they are putting her to bed right now.” He shut his laptop lid and switched on the small lamp on the bedside table. “How do you feel?”

 

“Groggy, but better.” She slipped her tattered robe on and took a long drink from the bottle of water next to the bed. “Now, I'll reiterate. What are you doing here?”

 

“Sango called me this afternoon,” he said simply.

 

Kagome's look of confusion lasted only a split second before her face morphed into an ugly shade of rage. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. I'm going to kill her. How dare she.”

 

Sesshoumaru grabbed her arm before she was able to clamor out of bed. “Calm down. She's concerned about you.”

 

She scowled and shook off his hand. “And what did my ex-best friend say to you?”

 

“Not much.” That wasn't too far from the truth; Sango had been intentionally vague. She had phoned him and said that Kagome was upset. He recalled Kagome's crankiness from the evening before and responded that he knew she was overtired and not acting like herself. Sango told him that something else was going on, but refused to specify, adding a rather large hint that Kagome was planning on looking for another place to live. It was literally the last thing he had expected, especially in light of his conversation with Rin the evening before, and the news that he was sorely mistaken about the status of their relationship shook him to the core. Something had happened, and as he sat next to her while she slept, he answered emails and replayed the past week in his mind, trying to understand what had gone wrong. They had both been busy, but were able to carve out time to be together; there was no fight, no event to which he could attribute her desire to move from the guest house. He had had no indication that she was dissatisfied with their increasing intimacy. “She merely said we needed to talk.”

 

Kagome was relieved that Sango had only betrayed her trust in a big way, not an earth-shattering, the-sky-is-falling way. She could still do this neatly. “I think we should go back to being just friends.”

 

His face turned into a hard, practiced mask. He expected as much, but expectation didn't make the hearing easier. “I didn't know you were so unhappy.”

 

His expression was unreadable, but there was pain in his voice, and Kagome realized she was a fool. It could never be done neatly. She felt tears, hot and fearsome, behind her eyes. “I'm not unhappy. It's…complicated,” she said lamely. “At the risk of sounding like an asshole, it's not you, it's me.”

 

He took a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that she seemed far from certain; Stubborn Kagome was not someone he wanted to deal with when the topic was ending their fledgling relationship. “You're going to have to do better than that.”

 

Kagome knew she could simply lie. She could say that they weren't sexually compatible or that she wasn't interested in monogamy and wanted to see other people…or anything else to avoid telling him that she was choking on fear. But he deserved the truth, never mind that she doubted she could ever lie convincingly to him. “I…I'm afraid. I can't stand the thought of you hurting me.”

 

His eyes narrowed with confusion. “Kagome, why do you think I'm going to hurt you?”

 

“Because you will,” she said, as if it were a fact. “At some point in the future…I don't know if it's in a week or six months…you're going to realize that we had our fun, but you have stature in the community and society has expectations of you, and it's high time you played by the rules and got yourself a Trophy Wife.”

 

The conversation was proceeding like nothing he had imagined, and her false impressions had taken him aback. “Is that what you think of me? That I'm nothing more than a conformist?”

 

She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

 

“You'll want someone you can be proud to take out to your fundraisers and charity benefit balls. Someone who is young and beautiful and has family ties and money and the right connections and doesn't swear and drink and doesn't make her own clothes and doesn't drive a mini-van disguised as a political statement and doesn't have a shameful…” She stopped and tore her gaze from his, tortured by her perceived failings. “Someone like Kagura.”

 

Sesshoumaru stroked her cheek, encouraging her to look at him again. “I've told you, I don't know how many times, there is nothing between me and Kagura.”

 

“Maybe not…she's just an example. I mean someone who comes pre-approved by your social circle. I don't.”

 

“I don't care about that. I never have.”

 

“That's my point. You will. Someday you will.”

 

“Let me get this straight. You want to cease romantic and sexual contact with me and ignore what we've come to mean to each other over the past month.” He paused a moment, thoughtful. “The past several months…because Kagome, you have to admit that we haven't been just purely platonic friends in a long time. You want to do this because you think I'm going to one random day decide others' opinions matter more to me than my own happiness and that the vain, shallow people I've avoided my whole life will suddenly become whom I want to tie my future to? This is what you are afraid of?”

 

His voice had an amused, relieved tone that annoyed her and, incongruously, also made her feel better. “Well, when you say it that way it sounds stupid. In my head it's perfectly reasonable.”

 

He laughed softly and kissed her. “Kagome, I can't predict the future. I do know that I will want to be with you tomorrow. And the next day and the day after that. And if and when our relationship ends, it will be because we both know it has run its course, not because you don't have a trust fund.” He was surprised that she even thought this way, though in retrospect, her confidence had often been at loggerheads with her self-doubts. “Don't you know how important you are? My life, before May of this year, consisted of my career, made interesting by a few pleasures, namely working out and reading your column. I thought I was satisfied, but I had no idea how hollow my existence really was until you and Rin came crashing into my life, upending it, and showing me what is truly valuable. You are nothing like those women, and I don't want you to be. I thought you understood that.”

 

Kagome let herself be pulled into his warm, welcoming arms and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I do. But…”

 

“Where did this anxiety come from?”

 

“I got a letter recently. It kicked awake my insecurities, and while I was up late night after night this past week, they grew and festered. I should have talked about it with you.”

 

“What was in the letter?”

 

“To summarize…on the bright side, the man who beat me up will never bother me again. On the fucked-up side, some guy who has previously written about Kikyou, with me starring in the role of the slutty villainous sister, is now planning a book. Despite a few regrettable decisions, I'm not ashamed of my sexuality…but the potential bullshit in a future book and what it would mean for your family made me crazy with worry.”

 

“I don't care about that. At all.”

 

“But what about your parents? If we are seen in public together as a couple, the tongues of the gossip pages and blogs will quickly wag. Do they want to be connected to someone like me?”

 

“You need to stop thinking of yourself as that different from anyone else. You're a successful working artist who is very capably raising her orphaned niece, no small feat…hardly a social pariah.”

 

“Oh really?” she challenged. “I can't see your parents finding out about my column and thinking it makes me well-rounded person.”

 

“Kagome, I doubt my parents have ever picked up a copy of The Missing Link, much less read your column.”

 

“I don't know whom this guy is talking to and what garbage that book will bring up about me. What about rumors of threesomes and assorted kinkiness? How much can they handle?” She leaned back and looked at him. “How much can you handle?”

 

“I've been aware of your vibrant history for a long time; I'm not afraid of it. And Scarlet has been a source of endless fascination and speculation since I first read your column.” Her pretty blush was well worth admitting his obsession with a sex-advice columnist. “Don't worry about my parents.”

 

“They only recently stopped looking at me like I was shit on the bottom of their shoes. I don't want to get back on their bad side.”

 

He laughed out loud. “You have a great talent for exaggeration. My parents love you.”

 

“Maybe they love the woman who is raising their granddaughter. What about when they learn she's knocking boots with their only living son?”

 

“Stop being paranoid.”

 

“It's difficult. They rejected Inuyasha because they disapproved of my sister, and they hadn't even met her. I don't want to cause problems between you and them.”

 

“First, my parents' issues with my brother went far deeper than his relationship with your sister. Second, they've spent the past eight months…the past eight plus years eaten by regret. Don't you think they've learned anything?” His arms tightened around her. “Kagome, don't you realize what you've done for my family? It's more than simply allowing us to have access to Rin. You've given us an enormous amount of peace of mind about my brother's life and helped us heal regarding our family history and his death. My mother thinks of you as her daughter and is happier than I have ever seen her. My father acts like he is twenty years younger and is only a shade of the argumentative, domineering, surly old man he used to be. You've given me the parents I've always wanted.”

 

Kagome shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder. “I did what I thought Inuyasha would have wanted. Now I feel like a neurotic diva.”

 

“Will you please stop the self-deprecation?” He grasped her chin and raised her face. There was still so much vulnerability. “What can I do to prove you can trust me? Name it.”

 

Kagome thought for a long moment before she made her request. “Play for me,” she whispered.

 

“What?”

 

“Piano. I want to hear you play.”

 

His first reaction, almost instinctive, was to refuse, to continue to keep his talent hidden. It was safe buried deep and kept only for himself. But she had already encouraged him to disinter and face painful memories; he wanted to share this with her too. “Alright,” he sighed, ragged and cathartic. “Get dressed.” He stood and retrieved his computer. “I'll be waiting for you in the music room.”

 

His abrupt departure left Kagome worrying she had pushed too far, too fast. She knew he had complex feelings about his father and much of that was symbolically tied to the piano. “I fucked up,” she told the uninterested dog. “He opened the door a crack to me, and I smashed through the window. I'm such a clumsy idiot.” She picked up her jeans from the floor, praying he would forgive her.

 

XxXxX

 

Ten minutes later, Kagome tip-toed into the music room, feeling like a criminal. Sesshoumaru was already seated, ramrod straight, on the bench in front of the Steinway. She sat next to him. “You don't have to. I'm sorry—”

 

He kissed her mouth to shut her up. “I wouldn't if I didn't want to.” He kissed her again, longer and less aggressively. “No one has heard me play in fifteen years. I'm glad it's you.”

 

She smiled shyly and took a deep breath. “I promise from this point forward I will stop being a paranoid, whiny, insecure drama queen. Or at least I'll try,” she added with a wink.

 

He quirked a brow, pleased she finally seemed to be snapping back to herself. “Glad to hear it. I prefer normal Kagome to the paranoid, whiny, insecure drama queen variety. Now go sit over there.” He waved a hand at the chaise to the left. “I don't need you in my way.”

 

“Are you mad at me?”

 

“You're breaking your promise.”

 

“Sorry.” Kagome fled to the chaise, stretched out, and closed her eyes. The held-breath silence seemed to last an eternity, and for a moment she thought he changed his mind. Then…sound. The serious, sonorous chord and haunting triplet brought instant recognition. “Ah, Beethoven,” she sighed and let the beauty of the Moonlight Sonata wash over and surround her. She didn't listen as a critic, judging the nuances of his interpretation. She listened as the receiver of a precious gift.

 

When she was in high school, Kagome went through phases of favorite composers, reading about their lives and the history that influenced them and listening to their music, and Beethoven was no exception. She had a particular fondness for his Sonata Fourteen in C-Sharp Minor and taught herself to play the first, most well-known movement on the piano. Her father said she played with great emotion, but let her fiery nature get in the way of technical correctness. The piece, in Sesshoumaru's hands, was measured and appropriately grave, but the passion of the melody ran through like a pulse, necessary and inseparable and expertly controlled.

 

She couldn't imagine a more fitting piece for him to play.

 

XxXxX

 

Mr. and Mrs. Taisho, arm in arm, left Rin's bedroom after indulging her with as many stories as she wished and staying until she fell asleep. They had been planning every minute of their upcoming trip with their granddaughter with a religious fervor, meticulously mapping out trips to the beach and Disney World, fantasizing about a child's wonder at riding in an airplane and seeing the ocean for the first time. Their excitement was almost on par with that of their first Christmas spent together.

 

“Winter weather in Florida can be so unpredictable,” Rose mused. “I'll talk to Kagome about making sure she sets aside enough clothing to deal with any possibility. At least we know that we'll be able to swim in the indoor pool in Orlando. She was so excited for her new swimsuit and…” She stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by an unexpected sound. Music, not recorded, was coming from the first floor of the house. Rose Taisho felt her breath catch, and she fumbled for her husband's hand. She hadn't heard the sound in more years than she cared to enumerate, but she knew the source—it had a familiar DNA, unique like that which gave him his white hair and his amber eyes. “He hasn't given it up,” she said, astounded.

 

Her elder son had a rare gift. She, a musical prodigy herself and his first teacher, should know. She had been relieved and thrilled to learn that he had found a teacher with whom to continue lessons when he went to boarding school, and he demonstrated his considerable progress while home on visits. Her soul swelled with a mother's and a teacher's pride when he had been accepted to Juilliard, and likewise was crushed when he chose to attend Harvard instead. When he returned to live at home and told her that he had stopped playing, her heart broke, as though he had rejected her. And now, the sound of his playing was a balm, soothing years of her own hurt and disappointment.

 

Rose slipped off her heels and, pulling her husband behind, silently padded down the stairs to the music room and peered in, just as the tempo increased and the second movement began. Sesshoumaru was seated at the piano with his back to them. Kagome was reclining with her eyes shut in rapt concentration. The Taishos retreated to the corridor and listened.

 

After a minute, Ken gathered his wife in his arms and whispered, “I understand the significance of his playing, but I need to ask…what is going on between those two?”

 

Rose kept her voice quiet. “I don't know. I suspect they may be lovers…only because Sesshoumaru seems so content lately. I've had my suspicions for some time now.”

 

“And why am I the last to know?” he asked, amused.

 

“You are the last to know, because you, as typical,” she said half-gently, half-defiantly, “choose what you want to see.”

 

He couldn't argue; she was, of course, correct. “Yes, I'm a blind, old fool.” There was so much in his life that he willfully ignored until too late—his wife's illness, his younger son's learning disability, his elder son's desperate wish to remain at home…the fact that the real strength and happiness of his family lay with the four of them together, not isolated, and tragically it was too late for them to be made completely whole. “They make a good couple. Balance is important.” He sighed and pulled her closer. “I wish I had learned that lesson thirty years ago. I could have saved us all a lot of misery.” He wiped the tears from his wife's cheeks. “I'm sorry. For everything.”

 

“I know.” They had worked through a lot of feelings about their marriage and family in therapy years before, but the grief, though addressed, wasn't far beneath the surface, especially since Inuyasha's death. “There are other apologies you need to make though.”

 

“Apologies perhaps twenty years overdue.” He and Sesshoumaru had not ever discussed, or even acknowledged, the past—his sending his son away and his insistence that he pursue business instead of music were the worst sins, but hardly the only—and they existed comfortably that way, so alike in their ability to pretend and ignore. He knew though, they would eventually have to pick apart the false healing that lapsed time had brought. “I've done so much wrong by our sons.”

 

Rose reached up to touch his beloved, melancholy face. “That little girl upstairs is our second chance. We are both righting wrongs.”

 

The third movement, almost vehement in its energy, had them silenced again. “He is brilliant,” Rose said after a minute, shaking her head in amazement. “His skill is truly masterful. I'm just so…happy he continued to play, even if he kept it secret.” She couldn't be jealous that he chose Kagome, and not her, to listen.

 

As if he knew what she was thinking, Ken said, “I'm sure he realizes we can hear. It's not a secret anymore.” He kissed her with a passion that matched the music in the background. “They deserve their privacy. Let's go to bed.”

 

Rose didn't try to hide her smile. In the past months her husband had become more affectionate than he'd been since the early days of their marriage. “It's only nine,” she teased. “I thought you had some work to do.”

 

“Work can wait until tomorrow. You are more important.”

 

As they walked away, holding hands and continuing to listen, Mr. Taisho said, “That woman in there…what is it about her? She's breathed life into this house.”

 

“She's special. I think even our obstinate son is not immune.”

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru let the last notes echo around the room and settle like dust. The stillness that followed was a hungry void, magnifying the intensity of his playing and leaving him raw and relieved. He went to where Kagome lay, her face hidden beneath her hands. “Kagome.” She startled out of her trance and stood, eyes bright with tears that slipped out as soon as she was upright.

 

“Did I play that poorly? I don't think I've ever made anyone cry before.”

 

She laughed and sniffled. “I assumed you would play well…I had no idea. I don't have any pretty words yet. I can only say Thank You.” Her arms circled his neck and she pressed her body against his. “Thank you.”

 

He let her cling to him, then held her at arm's length to gauge her reaction. “Spend the night here with me.” After their late nights together the past weeks, as they dressed and discussed who was acting as Rin's Taxi the next morning, he had hoped and hinted for an invitation to stay. Kagome always insisted he leave and return to the mansion, saying they needed to keep his parents and Rin unaware. Sesshoumaru knew part of her reason was fear of getting closer, but after playing, and playing that piece, he felt reckless. And he didn't plan on taking No for an answer.

 

She paled and swallowed audibly. “You mean like I sleep here and wake up really early and sneak back to the guest house so no one hates me?”

 

He shook his head slowly. “No, I mean like I have the first Saturday morning in recent memory where I don't have any reason to set the damn alarm clock and I want you to sleep here and enjoy it with me.”

 

“Are you sure? Your parents will know.”

 

“Good. I'm done with secrecy. Go home, get ready for bed, and come back. Bring the dog with you.” He would accept no excuses.

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome crept up the staircase, grateful that all the lights were off and maybe the Taishos were in bed and wouldn't hear the dog's claws clicking on the hardwood. She felt like a criminal for the second time in a little over an hour. Sesshoumaru had left his door partially open, and she entered the first room of the suite, trying to remind herself that she wasn't a trespasser. Unlike the time, she recalled with a blush, she showered there and he arrived home at a most inopportune moment.

 

Oberon went on a sniffing frenzy, his nose leading him from the leather sofa to the desk and finally into the bedroom proper. Sesshoumaur's voice came from the other room, murmuring something to the dog, and Kagome had no choice but to follow. There was no light coming from the bathroom, and she realized he was already in bed, waiting for her. She set her water bottle on the nightstand and heard the dog lie down with an exaggerated sigh. Betrayer, she accused silently. Not even her faithful companion would give her a convenient excuse to leave. I want to stay, she told herself. I want to stay and trust and be happy and have a normal relationship. I can do this.

 

She quickly undressed and slid between the sheets, seeking his body for comfort against the chill. “Mmm…warm, naked man.”

 

“Good god, your feet are cold,” he said and put his arms around her. “Did you walk over here barefoot?”

 

“It is winter,” she reminded him. “I think we're supposed to get close to two inches tonight.”

 

“All the more reason to sleep in.”

 

Kagome scooted closer and kissed him, testing for awkwardness. They had been in bed together before, but it was after a prolonged period of foreplay or at least a needy make-out session in a different room of her house. It was a little strange to be in bed with him without being in a heightened state of arousal. A little strange, but not bad. “I like your bed,” she said. “Nice firmness to the mattress. And good sheets.”

 

“Glad you approve,” he said, nuzzling her neck. Her attempts at small talk were endearing.

 

“I've got a thing for high thread-count, luxury sheeeeeaaaahhhh,” she yawned, “sheets. Sorry. Staying up all night is the gift that keeps on giving.”

 

Sesshoumaru lifted his face from the fragrant, tangled mess of her hair. “Roll over.” Her body fit perfectly against his, back to chest, like the last, missing piece of a puzzle. “You're tired. Let's just go to sleep.”

 

Kagome melted into his arms and sighed. She felt safe, enclosed. Prior to that night, their purpose of being in bed together was sex. This…her presence to simply share sleep with him…seemed to be a more intimate act than anything they had done up to that point.

 

Kagome's heart pounded in her chest. The evening had been a turning point—he had told her and demonstrated that he was not interested in the casual affair that had been her starting point. He was committed. She was free to let herself fall head-over-heels, blindly, stupidly in love and love being in love. There was nothing holding her back. And it scared her. I want this. I can do this. She repeated it in her mind, a chant as their breathing slowed and she relaxed both body and mind. “I'm trying. I'm trying not to be afraid.”

 

“I only ask that if you are going to dump me, I want it to be because I'm acting like a jerk, not because the people whom you dated before me were jerks. And not because you are afraid I may act like a jerk in the future.”

 

“Agreed,” she said. “So don't be a jerk.”

 

His answer was to kiss the back of her neck. They lay still, calm but not sleeping, and he loosened his hold around her. His hand strayed, tracing lines on her soft skin from neck to shoulder, down ridges of ribs, taking care not to tickle. He lingered at the hollow of her waist and the sexy rise of her hip. “For someone so slender, you have very curvy hips.”

 

“Is that a polite way of saying I have a flat chest and a fat ass?” His sharp sigh made her instantly regret voicing her body-image insecurities.

 

He rose up on an elbow and turned her to look at him. “Kagome, only you could mistake pillow talk for criticism. You're beautiful.”

 

“Sorry. I'm a little sensitive about my chest size.”

 

“You shouldn't be.” To demonstrate he kissed down the side of her neck and went lower, stopping to lavish attention on a pert nipple. “I'm more of a leg man, anyway.”

 

She squirmed in bliss as he tormented with teeth and tongue and gradually turned his focus to the other breast. Sleep was looking less and less likely. “As long as you don't see tit fucking as an integral part of your sex life.”

 

He remembered the man who wanted to buy her implants. “Sango told me about the breast fetishist. Clearly delusional.”

 

Kagome froze for a long second and started to get up. “I'll be right back. I need to go kill Sango.”

 

He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her beneath him. “You're not going anywhere. Sango was just trying to help. You should be thanking her.”

 

She scowled at him. “You're both lucky it's not in my nature to stay angry. I suppose this is karma for me playing matchmaker for so many years.” The scowl turned into a smile. “You should have seen the shit I pulled to get her and Miroku together. Remind me to tell you about it some time.”

 

“You're a very cute hypocrite.” He chose his next words with conscious deliberation. So much had been happened that night, it seemed right, a logical continuation. “I love you, Kagome.”

 

Had she not already been lying down, Kagome was sure she would have fallen. “What did you just say?” she asked breathlessly.

 

“You heard me.”

 

The entire night had been a series of fairly significant revelations and events that went far in killing her stubborn misgivings about their relationship. His statement simultaneously shocked, delighted, and scared the piss out of her. She threw caution aside and jumped, head first, into the maelstrom of emotions. “I love you too.” She assumed she would immediately wish the words unsaid, but she liked the sound, the taste in her mouth. “I love you,” she repeated.

 

“I know,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Rin told me last night.”

 

“Oh? And what did Rin say?”

 

“I asked her how you feel about me, and she said that you love me. So I asked her if you love me like you loved her father, and she said No, you love me like her mother loved her father.”

 

Kagome blinked back tears. “Clever little Rin.”

 

“Very clever.” He kissed her and she kissed back—their first official in-love kiss. “Would you mind terribly if we didn't go to sleep for a bit?” he asked, stroking her jaw and neck.

 

“I would be terribly disappointed if we did.” She hooked a leg around his and brought him closer, threading her fingers through the long hair that curtained them. “Thank you for tonight. You play beautifully…sublimely.”

 

“I confess I was surprised by your request,” he said as he returned to tasting the shape and softness of her breasts.

 

“Really? What were you anticipating?”

 

He looked up to her face. “I thought you would have asked to drive my car.” Even in the near dark he could see the surprise and glee in her wide eyes and immediately wished he hadn't said anything.

 

“I can drive your car?”

 

His gravid pause made her teeth chatter in expectation.

 

“Maybe.”

 

XxXxX

 

At three o' clock, the agreed-upon time, Sesshoumaru went down to the garage and saw that Kagome was already there, so visibly animated she reminded him of a wind-up toy. An extremely sexy wind-up toy. “You look like you're going to a costume party. Or a dominatrix convention.”

 

Kagome, dressed in a drapey black mini-skirt, tall black leather boots, and a black leather trench coat, grinned. “All the world's a stage, baby, and I need to look the part. I've been smitten with this car for a year, and I'm sure as shit not going to wear jeans and a sweatshirt when I finally get the opportunity to drive it.”

 

“Let's get this over with,” he said, tossing the keys to her. He hoped he hadn't betrayed his own eagerness. That morning when he agreed to let her drive his car, her childlike enthusiasm was infectious, and her rambling about the sequential manual gearbox, engine power specs, and lowered center of gravity reminded him she already possessed knowledge and appreciation of performance automobiles. Now, her positively not innocent outfit had his desire, as well as his curiosity, piqued. She certainly had been nothing but surprise after pleasant, serendipitous surprise, and he felt like he was embarking on the world's most erotic test drive.

 

Kagome opened the car door and slid in, setting a CD on the console. She had been inside Sesshoumaru's BMW M6 more times than she could count, but always in the passenger seat. The thought of having that much horsepower and torque at her disposal made her giddy. “I am so happy,” she squealed and leaned over to plant a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

 

Sesshoumaru watched as she fiddled with the electronic seat controls, all three mirrors, and even adjusted the tilt of the steering wheel. “You're making me regret this already. I've got the computer settings how I want them. Just don't touch anything else.”

 

“Relax,” she said. “You told me I could drive your car; don't start being a party pooper now.” She put the key in the ignition and pressed the start button, smiling in ecstasy as the engine roared to life. “So throaty,” she purred. “I don't know if I've ever heard a sexier sound.”

 

“Kagome, you've been in this car dozens of time,” he said, as she backed out into the bright daylight. “You already know how it sounds.”

 

Kagome paused to apply lipstick and donned dark sunglasses. “I know how I'm gonna make it sound. I've fantasized about Launch Control—”

 

“No,” he interrupted emphatically. “This is the first time you've driven an automobile of this caliber. Don't even think about disengaging the DSC.”

 

Kagome stared at him, open-mouthed. “When did you turn into such a toothless old man?”

 

He scowled. “We aren't on the Autobahn, Kagome. The speed limit in this neighborhood is twenty-five.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I'm not going to peel out. You need to trust me.” She kissed him again and, after quickly wiping off the red mark, slowly cruised down the driveway, then out of the neighborhood toward the highway. “It's weird not to have a clutch. I mean I'm used to an automatic, but this is different.”

 

“You'll get used to it quickly.” When he realized she wasn't going to pretend to drag race on Arborview Drive and she was actually quite adept at using the precision shifter, he relaxed considerably.

 

Kagome drove up the on-ramp, merging with the other cars, and frowned. Traffic was heavy for a late Saturday afternoon. “GAH!” she screamed. “The Saturday before Christmas, I'm in my dream car, and my fast is shot down by last-minute holiday shoppers.”

 

Sesshoumaru understood her frustration. The on-ramp nearest the Redgrave Hill neighborhood was one exit away from a burgeoning shopping area and office park, and back-ups were frequent and irritating. It was one of the reasons he left so early and came home so late. He had never had patience for sitting behind backed-up cars. “It should ease up in a mile.”

 

She changed lanes, squeezing in between cars, and smiled at the quick acceleration. “I could never do that with the mini-van. Ah,” she sighed, as the traffic cleared out, “here we go.” She inserted her CD. “I spent a good hour today making this in anticipation of driving your car. Gotta have a soundtrack to go with the outfit.” The acoustic guitar opening of Metallica's Fade to Black filled the interior. “Hope you don't mind heavy metal. It's what Inuyasha and I would always listen to when we went driving.” Kagome peered at Sesshoumaru out of the corner of her eye and was relieved to see he appeared more amused than annoyed.

 

“I can't have you thinking you'll need to cut up my food for me,” he said sardonically. “What do you think of the car so far?”

 

“I think I'm in love with it. But we'll see in a few minutes if it's a mere crush or a long term thing.”

 

She took an exit he wasn't expecting—one that led them into a predominantly rural area. The landscape was hilly and covered with a blanket of brilliant white snow, but the curvy two-lane road was clear thanks to the afternoon sun.

 

“Inuyasha showed me this place,” Kagome said. “We used to come here a lot when he first got his MINI Cooper. That car's handling was a blast,” she said, smiling with reminiscence. “We had so much fun with it.”

 

Sesshoumaru settled back and enjoyed himself. The snowy winter scenery was beautiful, Kagome was delirious to finally be driving the car as it was meant to be driven, and he didn't even mind the music that much. It felt good to trust her and relinquish a little his vise-tight grip of control. “Try the paddle shifters.”

 

Kagome put both hands on the steering wheel and downshifted into a sharp turn. “God! I love these!” she laughed, her expression nothing short of euphoria. “It's like an amusement park thrill ride that I get to control.” She slowed down for a four-way stop that was approaching. She looked at him. “There's no one around. You know you want to let me.”

 

He sighed and shook his head. “You know what to do?”

 

“Yeah…I spent hours watching videos of Launch Control on YouTube.” She brought the car to a stop and deactivated the Dynamic Stability Control. “I feel like I'm about to have sex for the first time,” she said, skipping the CD forward a few tracks. Once the gearbox was set, she pushed the shifter forward and pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor. Black Sabbath's Supernaut blared just as the tachometer reached fifteen hundred. She released the shifter and sent them rocketing forward. She was white-knuckled with adrenalin-fueled happiness. “Shit! What a rush! Kinda like detonating a bomb to move some furniture, but damn that was fun.” She was pleased to see Sesshoumaru seemed to be enjoying the ride as much as she.

 

A round-about path took them back to the highway, several miles farther away from the Redgrave Avenue Exit than where they left. After maneuvering around moderate traffic, Kagome spotted a half mile of open road ahead of them. She grinned widely and floored it.

 

Sesshoumaru watched as the needle climbed toward one hundred. “You will pay any speeding ticket you happen to incur.”

 

“Eh,” she said dismissively. “That's what Miroku's for.”

 

“I doubt Miroku could fix a ticket for forty-five over,” he laughed.

 

She laughed with him and slowed down as the cars in the distance ahead of them became closer. “If I even thought about going that fast in my car, it would have shaken into a thousand pieces. I supposed my carbon footprint is big enough. Time to go back to being plain old Cinderella.” She took the exit and came to a stop at the red light at the bottom of the off-ramp. “Fuck. The past hour was orgasmic,” she said, bosom heaving. “Better than sex.”

 

“Gee, thanks.” He didn't realize it was possible to be jealous of a car.

 

She looked at him with a naughty grin. “Wanna have sex in the backseat?”

 

XxXxX

 

On the top level of an empty downtown parking garage, a dark silver BMW sedan with fogged-up windows swayed imperceptibly as the late-afternoon sun descended below the city skyline, casting long, concealing shadows. The occupants inside were nearly fully clothed and sweaty, one of them trying not to let his paranoia get the best of him.

 

When Kagome first made her devious proposal, Sesshoumaru immediately refused. Knowing that he owned the only Stratus Gray Metallic BMW M6 in the area, discovery of them having sex in a public place in the middle of the day would have been a disaster. When she told him she wasn't wearing any underwear under her skirt, only thigh-high black stockings, his resistance began to crumble. Her hand inching up his leg and the echo of her voice calling him an old man sealed the deal. Fortunately the roof of his parking garage was deserted and the buildings were likely unoccupied on the Saturday afternoon before Christmas. Sesshoumaru had never had sex in any car, never mind this one, though he wasn't about to tell her that. Kagome seemed to know what she was doing. After stowing Rin's booster seat in the trunk and spreading out the towel that was under it, she whipped a condom out of a pocket and asked him what he was waiting for.

 

“Admit it,” she whispered in his ear as she sank down on his length. “You find the risk of getting caught a turn-on.”

 

“No, actually. I'm trying not to think about it at all.” He threw his head back and closed his eyes to focus on the sensations of her circling hips as she rode him. “You're objectifying me, aren't you?”

 

“Of course not, Mr. Perfect Car. Now stop talking. Or make some kind of engine revving noise.”

 

They laughed together, both happy to have someone to trust and confide in and joke with and love.

 

And screw senseless seventy feet off the ground.

 

XxDWSxX

 

I do not own Inuyasha. I do not own Disney, BMW, any Metallica songs, MINI, YouTube, or any Black Sabbath songs. If you'd like to listen to the Beethoven sonata Sesshoumaru played, here is a YouTube link of Murray Perahia playing all three movements. Copy and paste, removing the spaces between the Ws. w w w.youtube.com/watch?v=hjmTMgERioY This chapter does not endorse exceeding the posted speed limit. Thank you for reading. Reviews are, as always, very much appreciated.