InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Catching, Barriers Gone, Cute Feet ( Chapter 35 )

Kagome and Sango found an empty table, nestled in a corner to lend some privacy, at their favorite Memorial Park coffee shop and sat. The bustle of Christmas was over and they looked forward to catching up.

 

“Okay, so I told you about my fabulously awesome Christmas. How was yours?” Kagome said, shrugging off her coat. “How's the family?”

 

“Mine was great, though maybe not as good as yours,” Sango said with a grin. Kagome had babbled nonstop while they stood in line, talking about how her fears were unfounded and the Taishos were nothing but kind to her and how happy Rin was that Sesshoumaru was around more and how good it felt to be in love. Sango had only to listen and nod encouragement. “All the extended family was there, complete with cousins I didn't even know existed. It was a really nice family get-together, especially since my parents were gone on their cruise over Thanksgiving. Kohaku brought his girlfriend to meet everyone, which was a godsend, because it took a little focus off me and my pregnancy.” She shook her head. “All the well-meaning, unhelpful advice gets old fast. Birth horror stories, unasked-for opinions on baby names, people giving me the stink eye when I had a cup of coffee. It's like once a woman conceives she suddenly becomes community property and people feel entitled to question everything she does.”

 

“Yeah,” Kagome said, blowing on her hot coffee. “Kikyou used to say she wished she had a t-shirt that read, `I'm not pregnant—it's a beach ball under my clothes. Now leave me alone.' Just ignore people who aren't giving you positive energy. And realize that no one means any real harm.”

 

“I know,” she said. “It was just irritating to be judged every time I turned around. I still had a nice day though. The food was great, Kohaku's girlfriend is a sweetheart, and my parents gave me a gorgeous leather laptop bag that I've had my eye on for a while. Apparently my dear husband notices more than he lets on…including my catalogue perusal.”

 

Kagome laughed. “You're just now realizing this? I knew from the moment I met him that Miroku was a master at silent observation. I'm glad you had a good time, despite having to run the pregnancy approval gauntlet.” Kagome took an experimental sip and recoiled from the scorching heat. “So what baby names are you thinking about?”

 

Sango grinned slyly. “Miroku and I have decided not to tell anyone.”

 

“What. The. Hell. You can't keep secrets like that.”

 

“Watch me,” she said, ignoring Kagome's indignant frown. It had been Miroku's idea—one she wholeheartedly was in favor of. They enjoyed their friends and social lives, but inside they were both intensely private people, and this decision was one they wanted to be only between the two of them. “I'm still doing a lot of reading and research about pregnancy and birth…and figuring out child care. It's a daunting task. Miroku would love to be a stay at home dad if we didn't depend on his income so much.” She removed a steaming tea bag from her cup and spooned in honey. “I'm thinking about going down to Monday, Wednesday, Friday and working half day on Saturday. I know I could get Saturday appointments; some people just don't have weekdays free. That would let me stay home Tuesday and Thursday and not take a huge hit in income. My mom has already committed to one day a week, and Miroku is checking into the possibilities of working half days on Fridays.” Sango sighed. “It's such a dilemma. The best daycare in the neighborhood wants a commitment of paying for four days a week, but I'd only need it for one and a half. It's a maze of confusion…and I'm not even showing yet.”

 

Kagome nodded. “You may want to talk to Jak.”

 

“Be serious,” Sango scoffed.

 

“I am. He watched Rin bunches of times when she was itty bitty, especially during those months of Kikyou's last tour before her hiatus. Her little face would always light up whenever she saw him, so I'm thinking he interacted with her a lot. He lives in the neighborhood, usually doesn't have anything going on mid-week, and is always up for making some extra cash. He could be a good option for Wednesday.”

 

Sango's expression went from dubious to curious. “I'll discuss it with Miroku. Thanks for the suggestion. I'm a little intrigued. Speaking of Rin, have you heard from her?”

 

“This morning. The Taishos call twice a day. They're currently at the Magic Kingdom and apparently Rin has gotten so many sea shells and sand dollars and Florida memorabilia and Disney stuff, the Taishos had to buy another suitcase. She got presents for Shippou and Jordie and Jerie and a Stitch doll for me.” She smiled softly. “A few months ago I would have been jealous. I admit it,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I would have felt inadequate and guilty that I couldn't provide her that experience and jealous someone else could. But now…I'm just happy that she's happy. I talk a lot to Mr. and Mrs. Taisho too. I think this trip is helping them make up for being absent from so much of their own sons' childhoods, not erasing mistakes, but they are pouring love and attention into Inuyasha's daughter. They said she is being really good, no problems with eating or sleeping, no acting out when told No.” She sighed and the smile deepened. “I guess I'm secure enough in how things are that I'm taking her easy transition not as rejection of me personally, but a reflection that I've got a great kid on my hands and I've been raising her right.”

 

“Kagome, you've done better than right. You helped Rin through some major adjustments, when you yourself were dealing with a huge burden.” Sango reached across the table and squeezed Kagome's hand. “That takes a lot of caring and a lot of strength. You should be proud that she's having a good time.”

 

She teared up instantly. “I am. And my feelings are only a tiny bit hurt when I say `Goodbye honey, I love you and I miss you' and she responds `Bye, we're gonna go get ice cream now.'” The women laughed together.

 

“So apart from missing Rin…tell me about the rest.” The rest Sango referenced was made apparent by a naughty grin and arched brow.

 

“Girl, that first day…hotdamn. We had sex for like ten hours.”

 

“Ten hours.” Sango's voice was flat with skepticism.

 

“Well, not in a row,” Kagome said, somewhat defensive. “We took obvious time for bodily needs and talking and napping and stuff. I can safely say we stayed naked most of the day. We even ran out of condoms.”

 

Kagome looked in her nightstand and groaned. “Oh shit.”

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“I forgot to add a certain item to my shopping list. You wouldn't happen to have any prophylactics in your shirt pocket, would you?”

 

“No, we used the last one a few hours ago. I may have some in my room.” He reached over for his pants, lying on the floor next to the bed, but Kagome stopped him.

 

“Sesshoumaru…” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Condoms were a sex security blanket, one she relied on through college and beyond. The practical safety applications were obvious, but there was an additional symbolic barrier…one she thought she was ready to negotiate her dependence on. “I would understand if you don't want to…we could just have oral sex or play with toys the rest of the night if we've exhausted the condom supply. But…I'm on the pill,” she said shyly. “We could, you know…not use them. I tested negative for everything this summer and I'm a reliable—”

 

He kissed her hard and gave a short laugh. “You have no idea how happy you've just made me.”

 

She made a face, a goofy scowl. “Oh really…is it that much better?” she asked.

 

“Imagine taking a bath. Imagine taking a bath wearing a plastic bag.”

 

She was thoughtful a moment, then moved so she was sitting in his lap in lotus position, legs around his waist, the wetness between her thighs pressed against his hard cock. She adjusted her body and let him slip inside, feeling every slow inch as their bodies became flush against one another. He shuddered with the pleasure of this new feeling and held her tightly. “After dinner,” she whispered, “let's take a bath together.” A whole new world of fascinating possibilities took shape in her mind.

 

“Earth to Kagome,” Sango said.

 

“Huh?” she said, snapping back to the present.

 

“You spaced out for a second. You ran out of condoms…” she prompted.

 

Kagome chewed her lower lip, knowing the import of what she was about to say. “And we decided to skip them.”

 

“Wow,” Sango said. This was big news. “You must really trust him. I know your condom policy.” Beginning their first week of college, Kagome's reputation, one as a tireless condom crusader with a motto of No Glove—No Love, preceded her. “Besides sex, how have the past three days gone?”

 

“Life back to normal for the most part. Work, eat, play, sleep. It's funny strange…there's this ginormous mansion next to us, but we've spent all our time at the guest house.” She stared out the window at passing cars. “I feel like we're playing house. I did a load of laundry today, and there were boxers and men's socks and undershirts in it. We get up together and have coffee before he leaves. I'm teaching him how to cook. He's a quick study…in a lot of ways.” She shook her head to avoid another reminiscing sexual daydream. “Yesterday afternoon I was taking a break from work, making a pot of tea in the kitchen. I had just let the dog out and heard Sesshoumaru's car. A minute later, out the kitchen window I saw a flash of orange, then Oberon ran by. Then he ran back. This was repeated. It took me a minute to register what was going on, and I was floored. He taught my dog, my laziest-dog-ever, to fetch.”

 

Sango couldn't hold back her giggle, so happy and amused. “Sounds like he has become an integral part of your life.”

 

“Sango, it's been years since I had a boyfriend, but even then…I've never been in a relationship like this. I've never been so relaxed, so reassured of mutual trust. I'd chalk it up to maturity, but I know from my column that forty year olds can act like selfish, game-playing children just as much as seventeen year olds. It's more than he's intelligent and, when forced, funny and kind. He's got a buried affectionate side that I've been seeing more often. And he doesn't do the boorish, condescensive Men Are From Mars bullshit that I've always hated. It's respect and tenderness, and acceptance when I show him the same. He treats me as an equal. Sorry,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “I sound like a sappy idiot.”

 

Sango looked at Kagome like a mother bird might regard a fledgling. She had let go of a lot of fear and, frankly, stubbornness and was now finally getting the happiness she deserved. “You don't. You sound like you are in love for the right reasons with the right guy. I'm happy for you.” Sango paused, a guilty shadow crossing her face. “Kagome, I need to tell you…I called him after you came to talk to me a week ago.”

 

“I know.” Kagome had no interest in prolonging Sango's confession; she had gotten over herself soon after she realized how right Sango had been in alerting Sesshoumaru to her intentions of a break-up. “Thanks for being a good friend. I was pissed as hell for five seconds, but fortunately someone was able to shake sense into me. Enough about me and my drama. How are you feeling? You look awesome.”

 

“I feel great,” Sango said. “Nausea, tiredness gone. It's weird…I am very aware that I'm pregnant, but I don't have any more of the yuckiness and I'm not showing. Now that I'm not running to the nearest toilet to puke, strangers don't know I'm pregnant. Right now it feels very private, like a joke Miroku and I are sharing. Thank god for the not showing yet—I don't have to go out and buy a maternity evening gown for New Year's Eve. I can still fit into the dress I wore to the Barrister's Ball four years ago. The style is classic, so I'm simply not going to worry about wearing a dated dress.”

 

Kagome knew that dress; she had made it. It was floor length, black with bold red accents, and had a form-fitting bodice that extended to mid-thigh with a flared taffeta skirt. “That's a little fancy, isn't it?”

 

“Kagome, haven't you seen the invitation? It's clearly a black-tie event.”

 

She hadn't. “Ooohhhhh…fuuuuuck,” she said, like a vulgar balloon deflating. She went from confused over her mistaken assumption to horrified about her wardrobe. The above-the-knee, hanky-hem, black cocktail dress she planned on wearing wouldn't do. She mentally searched her closet and began to panic. “What am I going to wear? WhadamIgonnawear? WhadamIgonnawear?” She scanned the coffee shop and didn't find an answer. “I need to make a dress. New Year's Eve is two days away, and I need to make a stunning, perfect dress.”

 

Sango rolled her eyes. “Or you could, you know, just buy one.”

 

Rebel Kagome bristled. “Hell no! I don't want to look like everyone else.” She knew she and Sesshoumaru would be seen together, and there would be certain presumptions made. As much as she rejected conforming to the lavish lifestyle of his social circle, she was not about to show up as someone who was out of her league. “It's gotta be flattering, obviously. Classic, but not conservative. For a formal event, New Year's Eve is less rigid, so I can have some fun with the design. I don't want to stand out too much, but I don't want to fade away either.” She stared off a moment, plotting. “To the fabric store, I go.”

 

Sango knew Kagome, despite frequent freak-outs, thrived under pressure and tight deadlines. During freshman year in the dorms, she thought her roommate's twin was merely an epic procrastinator, but once she got to know Kagome better, she realized the woman loved being challenged. She laughed. “Knock `em dead, babe. I know you can do it.”

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome sorted through her patterns of bridal, bride's maid, and mother-of-the-bride dresses, pulling out pieces and laying them together—a skirt from one dress, a bodice front from another, mismatched straps from yet another. Like a couture Dr. Frankenstein creating a hybrid gown from disparate parts, her true genius was only to be recognized by those who could appreciate the effort it took to match unrelated pieces. To everyone else, it would merely be a gorgeous dress. Two days was not enough time for her to put her own signature touch on it with beading or embroidery, so she instead chose a lacy ribbon that she had squirreled away for such an occasion. She would use it to embellish the bodice, criss-crossing artfully to accentuate the bolder of the two straps. The whole thing was taking shape in her mind, from the champagne lace against the deep grey viscose silk she had picked out at the fabric store, to the shape of the gown, with a reasonably low, plunging neckline and flowing drapery of the skirt. It was a good look, well balanced and emphasizing her long, slender build. Now she only needed to make it. No easy feat, considering Rin and the Taishos were expected back the next day.

 

She heard the bathroom door open; Sesshoumaru was done with his shower. She got up to join him in the living room, but first tucked away her patterns and yardage so he wouldn't see them. Though there was no need for secrecy, she had a perverse desire to keep evidence of the gown hidden until the big night. She reluctantly turned off the light, torn between the excitement of getting started on the dress and spending every minute with Sesshoumaru before their privacy was swept up with the return of Rin.

 

He was stretched out on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, dressed only in pajama pants that, Kagome noticed with no small amount of happiness, were flannel of a familiar canine print.

 

“Did you have a good workout?” she asked as she took her spot next to him. “You seem more…laid back than usual. And, uh, nice jammies.” The last bit slipped out.

 

Sesshoumaru was too tired to respond to her last comment. He could have defended his choice of clothing by asserting that he only donned them to please her, but the truth was that the distastefulness was more than made up for by the fact that they were soft, warm, and fit him perfectly. “Sensei thought I seemed distracted today and decided I needed a lesson on staying focused. I had my ass handed to me by a man older than my father. I'm already sore. Tomorrow won't be pleasant at all.”

 

Kagome snorted. “Good to know that young whippersnappers who exercise absolute capitalist power can still be taken down a peg.” She snuggled up nearer. “But seriously…I'm jealous. I haven't had a decent workout in over a week. Since it's gotten so cold, I haven't been able to run, and my Pilates instructor is on vacation.”

 

He winced as he put an arm around her. “Come to the DAC. I'll leave a guest pass at the desk for you. You have to pay extra for personal trainers and masseurs, but the pass will give you access to all the machines and classes and the sauna.”

 

“Really? I may just take you up on that. I'd love to hit a treadmill for forty-five minutes. Too bad I can't take the dog. He's languishing.” She shot an apologetic glance toward Oberon, lying nearby. Her glance was naturally drawn to Sesshoumaru's feet, propped up on the coffee table. They were clean and as finely formed as his hands. She couldn't believe she hadn't yet taken the time to notice them. “You have cute feet.”

 

It was a statement of either his fatigue or his self-control that the only part of his body that moved was his eyes to give her a sideways glare. “Nothing about me is cute.”

 

Kagome hid her amusement. “Not cute as in ponies and puppies. Cute as in…sexy.”

 

He was somewhat assuaged, if only by her playfulness. “Foot fetish, Kagome?”

 

“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Okay, not exactly a foot fetish…I just know how erogenous feet can be. They take a lot of abuse as we go about our daily lives, supporting our weight and bearing the brunt of our activity. Then when we strip off shoes and quit demanding so much, they are really sensitive. All those little bones are receptive to gentle treatment. They elicit a rather powerful reaction.”

 

“I confess I've never given feet much thought. Other than that mine are aching.”

 

“I have a unique appreciation for feet,” she said with a wry smile. “Would you like a foot massage?”

 

A massage to any part of his body sounded divine. “I won't turn one down.” It wouldn't do to seem overeager.

 

Kagome slapped her hands together and jumped up. She had no issues with the appearance of eagerness. Within a minute she had dimmed the lights, put on music, and retrieved a bottle of massage oil. “Okay,” she said, kneeling down and pushing his feet from the coffee table, “off with your pants.”

 

“What?” he asked. This added instruction was clearly not expected.

 

Kagome slid the table out of the way. “We both know how this will end up. As cute-sexy as your feet are, I'm not going to be content with my hands on only them. And besides that, I haven't given you a proper blowjob yet.”

 

Sesshoumaru didn't need to be told twice. Dog-patterned pajama bottoms hit the floor, and he settled, naked, back into the couch, too focused on his good fortune to be self-conscious. He had indeed been distracted at the dojo; he had been all day. The question of how to bring up the topic of marriage with Kagome had loomed in his mind at the expense of everything else, and it seemed he was more than merely lucky that his preoccupation would now earn him this lavish attention.

 

Kagome picked up his right foot and set it in her lap, then poured a small amount of massage oil in her hand. It was warm in her palm and smelled faintly of cloves, the first time she'd used it since purchasing it a few months before. She first used both hands, rubbing oil over his skin, using only the smallest amount of pressure and taking care not to tickle. His feet, with high arches and sharp ankles, had graceful shape and length. Strong feet, she thought. Good feet. His skin was smooth and firm, and she decided Sesshoumaru must treat himself to pedicures often.

 

She smiled softly. She and Inuyasha and Kikyou had regularly given each other foot rubs and back rubs; they were all athletic and therefore subjected to the body aches and pains that come with strenuous exercise, and comfort with touching and being touched had been part of the intimacy of their household. However, Inuyasha, unlike his brother, had feet that looked like he had never worn a shoe a day in his life. They weren't gross…just so heavily callused and inordinately ticklish they seemed emblematic of Inuyasha himself—tough, hard layer sheltering the sensitivity within.

 

Once the oil was applied evenly and Kagome felt Sesshoumaru begin to truly relax, she increased the pressure, starting with her thumbs on the top of his foot. Gradually the strokes became harder and worked the flesh lower, muscle and tendon pliant beneath her fingers. She paid close attention to his instep, knowing it was likely where he was most sore, and rubbed the oil into his skin, channeling warmth and languor. The next recipients of her skillful handling were his toes. She plied each one individually, firm enough to not tickle, light enough to not hurt.

 

Kagome was intrigued. He responded with appreciation as she assumed he would, and with the beginning of an erection, but she also sensed a vulnerability she hadn't expected. His body was relaxed, and with his eyes closed he was wonderfully, erotically unguarded. She spent several more minutes caressing his foot, attentive to the way he sighed and moaned and the way he fell under her spell. She turned to the other foot and repeated the play. Oil, light stroking that deepened, bit by bit bringing him to a state of complete letting go. She knew he trusted her—this was yet another layer, further proof of what they had come to mean to each other.

 

She turned to his lower leg. The calf muscle was dense and well formed, but stiff. The time for subtlety was over. She used the strength in her fingers and the heel of her hand to press hard, in broad circular motions.

 

He tensed up at the first sign that she wasn't going to go easy on him, then relaxed through the twinges of pain as she worked out the tightness. It was a good hurt, and he felt the soreness he had acquired from the extreme sparring session dissipate under her fingers. “How did you become so adept at this?” he asked after several minutes of blissful surrender. His mind about their long-term future was even more made up, despite the fact that he still hadn't spoken with her about it. That glaring oversight would be addressed at a more convenient time

 

“Lots of practice,” she said, laying her hands on his other leg. “Your brother was particularly good at getting tied up in knots. He carried a lot of tension in his neck and shoulders.” She kept kneading his flesh until it seemed this particular job was done and it was time to move on to other body parts. She slid her palms up his thighs, encouraging them to part so she could fit comfortably between his legs. In the faint light she could see his cock hardening to full length as she made her way upward. Oh…this will be fun, she thought. And she intended to take her time and enjoy every second.

 

Kagome considered oral sex to be one of the great pleasures of having a partner, and they had already incorporated it into their usual foreplay. However, she hadn't yet brought him to orgasm that way—it was a situation that needed remedy. Most people could give a decent blowjob if they wanted to, but a good blowjob was close to an art form. And she was, after all, an artist. The first time she'd given him head had been a series of sensual experiments. Every man has different needs, after all. Mapping his sensitive spots, his too sensitive spots; learning his tolerance for teeth, the way he liked his foreskin sucked between her lips. Now, versed in his geography, she knew how to make him hers. Nothing, in her experience, was more erotic than a slow buildup of desire, prolonged teasing with lips and tongue and teeth. Nothing a greater turn-on than expectation. Her hands, free of oil, were joined by her mouth. She rubbed and licked and nibbled, inching her way up his legs, first one then the other.

 

His fingers twined in her hair, and she paused. “For the record, you may put your hands on my head…hell, pull my hair a little if you want. But you may not force my head down. I hate that. And I'd love it if you cum in my mouth. No warning required.”

 

He buried his fingers deeper into the thick mass of her hair as she returned to her exquisite torment, and he again questioned his good fortune. He had never had a lover so open and communicative, unafraid of expressing desire and dislike. A lover who knew what she wanted and gave the same. And he had never been with anyone who was so good at getting him out of his shell. It ceased to surprise him anymore that the perfect woman for him, his equal and someone who balanced him, was very different than he.

 

When Kagome reached her destination, Sesshoumaru was so aroused and on edge he could barely contain his reaction. She, daring and naughty and testing, rewarded his patience with continued teasing. She let the tip of her tongue trace invisible lines along his testicles, barely touching. She sucked and played with the loose, sensitive skin. He groaned and twitched, and she could tell he was straining to stay still. Kagome decided he'd had enough. Everyone has a point when fun, sexy torture becomes annoying or, worse, a turn-off, and she consciously avoided that point. She would have to wait to discover the joys of Sesshoumaru on the receiving end of ass play at some time in their future.

 

Without further preamble, Kagome took his cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the smooth, taut head. The sounds he made turned from agonizingly tense to relieved and satisfied, hopeful. That combination of sounds would never get old. She lowered her head, taking him deeper into the wet warmth of her mouth. She continued slowly, up and down, applying pressure to the throbbing veins on the underside of his cock with her flat part of her tongue, taking more and more of his length. She cupped and rubbed his balls with one hand and slid along his cock, mimicking the motions of her mouth, with the other. She found a rhythm, up and down, caressing with her tongue, tasting and touching. He didn't last long.

 

“Kagome, I'm going to…” The half statement was equal parts warning, declaration, and compliment.

 

Kagome slowed and lightened her touch while he came, letting him flood her mouth. Hot, salty, familiar. It really had been too long since she'd given a blowjob; she couldn't imagine anyone she would rather share such an intimate, deliberate act with. She swallowed and kept moving, but with ultimate tenderness and slowness, waiting for him to stop pulsing. Already she couldn't wait to do it again.

 

She climbed up on the couch next to him and smooched his cheek. “You're welcome to spend the night here. I know the thermostat has been turned down next door for the past several days. I'm not coming to bed for a while though. I need to spend some time sewing. Last minute, important project. See you in the morning.” She kissed him again and disappeared.

 

Sesshoumaru sat sprawled on the couch for a half an hour, enveloped in post-orgasmic glow and not interested in moving from his spot. She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

 

Her abrupt departure, when he would have preferred to hold her and perhaps talk about their future, cast a small shadow—he was faced, for the first time, with the possibility of her saying No. The concept was upsetting, but rather than go to the empty mansion next door or seek her out in her workroom, he retreated to the bed he had begun to, hopefully, think of as theirs.

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome cursed herself for not paying better attention to the layout of the Downtown Athletic Club. The place was huge, and she wandered around looking for the women's locker room, ready to admit herself lost. She had attended a beginner Kettlebell class and run two miles on the treadmill. Now she felt like her muscles were shredded, she was drenched in sweat, and she wanted nothing more than to find the women's locker room and take a shower.

 

“Thank god,” she said, when she saw a sign bearing the familiar stick-like figure in a skirt, and hurried toward the entrance. In her haste, she almost bumped into two well-dressed women making their way to the same place.

 

“Watch where you're going,” one of them snarled.

 

“I'm so sorry,” Kagome blurted, then realized she recognized one of them. “Oh…hi, Kagura.” She was immediately aware of her red, flushed face, her baggy, unflattering t-shirt, and the several tendrils of hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail and were now plastered against her face. Kagura, dressed in a red Versace power suit, looked like she had just come from a salon. The situation couldn't have been more awkward.

 

“Kagome…hello. I didn't realize you had a membership here.”

 

“I don't,” she said apologetically, though she had no reason to feel that way. “Sesshoumaru lent me a guest pass.”

 

“I see.” Kagura eyed Kagome's appearance with a smirk and didn't bother to introduce her to her friend. “Don't let me come between you and the shower.”

 

“Uh…yeah. I'm a little sweaty after my workout.”

 

“A little.”

 

They walked in and Kagome grimaced when she saw her locker was near Kagura's. She had hoped to go back to anonymity. She quickly retrieved her bag with shampoo and body wash. “Good to see you again,” she said brightly, trying to salvage some of her dignity. “Maybe we'll bump into each other at the party tomorrow.”

 

“I doubt that,” Kagura scoffed. “There's an invitation-only fete at the hotel, and I don't plan on attending the event open to the public.” She stopped and her eyes narrowed imperceptibly. There was more to this woman than she had realized. She plastered a fake smile on her beautiful face. “Oh, Kagome…are you going to be at the private party?”

 

“Yeah,” Kagome said, not buying Kagura's suddenly friendly tone. “I'm going with the Taishos and Rin. I need to get back home and finish sewing the lace on my dress before they get back from Florida. We're picking them up from the airport later today.”

 

“Wait,” Kagura said, now amused. “You are making your dress?”

 

Kagome cringed. She had always hated her tendency to overshare when feeling uncomfortable, especially at the worst times. She wished she could erase the feeling that she had done something wrong, but Kagura inexplicably intimidated her. She wanted to say, `The dress I'm making will be the envy of almost every woman there.' Instead she merely nodded.

 

“How very quaint of you.”

 

Quaint was a word that had never, ever been attached to Kagome before. It was a label that slid off her like rain, however the mocking derision in Kagura's voice hit home. She didn't doubt her sewing abilities, but the back of her mind was plagued by insecurities. She didn't care what those people thought, but she cared about him. This was his world, and she didn't want to reflect badly on him. It was best just to leave quickly. Kagura was not her friend and never will be. A shower was even more necessary. “Well, see you tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, I've got an appointment with my personal trainer and at two hundred dollars an hour, I really shouldn't make him wait. Tell Sesshoumaru that I had a wonderful time at our lunch yesterday. And I can't wait until next week.” She smiled as Kagome walked away.

 

“Who was that woman?” Kagura's companion asked. “She looks like a fish out of water.”

 

Kagura answered loudly, hoping Kagome could hear. “The aunt of Ken and Rose Taisho's granddaughter. She's been living on their property since this spring. They generously took her and the child in because she couldn't support the two of them financially…though one has to wonder how much longer she can possibly justify imposing on them. A few of my mother's friends have started referring to her as The Freeloader,” she lied.

 

Kagura was thoughtful. She refused to believe that Sesshoumaru would be attracted to someone like Kagome Higurashi, but the fact that she was going to the airport with Sesshoumaru and attending the private party with the Taishos didn't sit well with her. Kagome was insinuating herself in the family. This wasn't good. Her and her parents' relationship with the Taishos was her great advantage in winning Sesshoumaru, who was persisting in his stubbornness about meeting with her for any reason but business. No, this wasn't good at all.

 

“Oh, I just remembered a phone call I needed to make. I'll see you tomorrow.” She picked up her cell and called Naraku. He had better answer promptly, she steamed.

 

It only rang once. “Sister, dear.”

 

“Save the family affection. Is your report ready?”

 

“I'm putting the finishing touches on it.”

 

“Good. I want it tomorrow. Just bring it to the party.”

 

A/N

 

I do not own Inuyasha. I do not own anything connected to Disney. Thank you for reading! Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.