InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Kagome ❯ Chapter 38 ( Chapter 38 )

DISCLAIMER:: I do not own InuYasha and company, they are the brain children of Rumiko Takahashi. I do, however, own an overactive imagination. . .

 

Special thanks to Sacred_Shaz, who is my inspiration and sometimes (when she has the time) Beta. Without her support, this story would not have happened.

 

I love you forever Shaz, in all your incarnations.

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Kagome

 

 

Chapter 38

 

 

 

Ricky squinted at the battery of monitors on the wall, and slipped on a pair of designer framed glasses. They did no good. In reality they only made it worse. It was like trying to focus while underwater. Whatever that girl had done, she didn't need them anymore. The problem with the monitors was not due to her eyesight.

 

“What the hell happened?” she demanded pulling off the spectacles and moving in closer behind Ted . He frantically keyed in adjustments to the data he was attempting to view on the editing room monitors.

 

“Dunno,” he muttered, casting a baffled glance back to her as they were joined by a pair of interns. He keyed in yet another command to the editing console, and there was a fluctuation on the screens. At least now the chronometer had begun to work, flashing a rolling sequence of numbers at the bottom. “It's like I have to compensate for electro-magnetic interference of some kind. This isn't any regular RF problem. I didn't see any security drones, anyway. The data is here, I know it . . . see?” He pointed at shifting frames on the screen. Not a significant enough improvement for use, however a ghosting of images could be discerned among the digitized scramble.

 

“Here, let me try something,” suggested one of the interns, a young looking girl with twin braids falling over her shoulders. Ricky mused that she barely looked like she was out of high school, and didn't hold much faith that she could remedy their dilemma. The girl moved around the console, and as she tinkered with something in the back, the screens fluctuated again several times.

 

“Bert, be careful back there . . .” warned her counterpart, a male with a military style buzz cut who didn't look much older. “If the old man catches you, we're both in deep shit. . .”

 

“I read about this last week . . .” came her alternately echoed and muffled response, “this particular system has a fail safe for that sort of thing, but you have to rig it up It's not automatic . . . Just a sec . . .” Ricky raised a brow at Ted, who shrugged in response.

 

“Oh hell!! You're right! A counter for potential E.M. attacks . . . but that's only for military operations, Bert,” he wiggled down behind her, watching as she deftly rearranged cables.

 

“A clause in the Congressional approval for the contract was to include the capability in civilian broadcasting equipment . . .” she backed up to examine her work, “just in case the military has need to commandeer it.”

 

“Lovely thought,” Ricky muttered under her breath.

 

“That should do it, Teddy. You need to reboot the system for it to fully integrate.” The girl stood up and brushed her jeans.

 

“Teddy?” Ricky peered at her camera man, who was blushing uncharacteristically.

 

“It's better than 'Tard',” he grumbled as he keyed in the reboot sequence.

 

“You really think this is going to work?” Folding her arms, Ricky leaned back and watched the screen run through lines of boot data.

 

“Actually, it should. . .” The voice behind them drew everyone's attention to a mature man who was leaning on one arm against the doorway. “That is IF it was E.M. interference.”

 

“Shit,” the boy swallowed hard at their being discovered by the Senior Editor.

 

“Relax Ernest, you're not in trouble. Roberta, in the future I would appreciate being informed prior to any modifications to the equipment. Understood?” Head tilted down, his look of reprimand brought a blush to the girls freckled cheeks.

 

“Yes Sir. But in my defense, Mr. Dawson, I did kind of . . . um . . . save the day . . . didn't I??” She asked hopefully.

 

“That remains to be seen, young lady.” Dawson raised a brow, then moved into the cramped room. “You two get back out in the field. . .” He placed a hand on Ted's shoulder, then replaced him on the stool he had been occupying. “I'll see what I can do with this . . . any law enforcement drones or military craft around at the time?”

 

“No! That's what's so weird about it . . . nothing . . . hell, it was practically dead out there. . .” Ted rubbed at his temple and noted Ricky tossing her expensive pair of designer glasses into a small trash can by the door.

 

“Don't remind me,” she grumbled. “C'mon Teddy, let the geeks fix it.” She glanced around at the odd assortment of people who had wandered into the already tight room, and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt.

 

“You'll wanna be careful what you use from that,” he warned, “that is if you get anything at all . . . He broke a field microphone, but he did state in no uncertain terms that he refused the interview before he did it.”

 

“Ted . . . dammit!” Ricky hissed furiously.

 

“Hell no . . . he told you 'no' and all you did is switch to the girl!” he accused. He glared down at her expression which reflected his own. “And she was none to pleased about being recorded, once she realized I had a camera.”

 

Ricky stiffened. She had received a gift from that girl, and knew she should probably be grateful and leave it at that. And by the disapproval in Ted's expression, that was how he was seeing things as well. But she smelled a bigger story, one that could very well make her career, and she couldn't let it go. She had to know that Kagome's story. How Inudono fit into it was another mystery, and one thing Ricky could not resist was a good mystery.

 

“Who are we talking about?” Dawson had swiveled the stool around to watch the pair telepathically joust. Had to be, since they seemed to have stopped talking.

 

“Caleb Inudono . . . he was out with his girlfriend on the pier and Ricky pushed him,” Ted's condemning eyes never left her.

 

“Oh, no . . . He has a girlfriend?” Roberta's disappointment was evident, and when all those present turned to look at her she blushed again.

 

“So . . . neither of them consented to the interview, I take it.” Dawson eyed the reporter, and scratched the side of his chin. Ted shook his head. “Last thing we need is a law suit.”

 

“There was no interview, Daws . . . Just a lot of swearing out of Caleb and a broken mike. The girl tried to be nice about it, but in the end she asked me not to 'show it'.” Ted reached for his bag, and tapped the back of his hand on Ricky's upper arm.

 

“So . . . before you go,” Dawson tapped in the sequence to search through the clip, “Mind telling me why we went to all this trouble? For something we can't use?”

 

“Oh nice! What kind of bike is that, Ernie?” Piped Roberta, drawing everyone's attention back to the screens. The image had improved remarkably, and Dawson had set the clip to rewind from the end.

 

“Ducati I think, Bert . . . Holy COW! He crushed that mike with just one hand?? Just like a beer can!” smirked the boy.

 

Running backwards it looked as if the guy had drawn up the pieces into his hand and then handed Ricky a pristine microphone, which was followed shortly by a bright flash of light. The pair walked backwards at high speed some distance to a bench then sat and wrapped one another up into a passionate embrace and the camera pulled out and panned left to a family walking backward up the sidewalk.

 

“What the . . .” muttered the editor, playing the sequence forward at standard speed. “Where's the damn audio??”

 

“There's no more than 30 - 40 seconds of audio in the whole clip. If that much. Like I said, a lot of swearing,” Ted responded. “There's a couple of things I want to look at more closely later, though. Bert?” He nodded toward the bank of monitors and Roberta understood. It was his signal that he wanted his own copy of the data. She nodded lightly in acknowledgment.

 

“There's more to that girl than meets the eye,” Ricky ventured. “Give Yolanda a clip of them walking together, let her break some hearts. It's pretty obvious he's involved with her. Archive the rest . . . there's a bigger story here, I know it.”

 

“Ok, R.T., it's your gig,” Dawson waved at their retreating forms without looking as he deftly maneuvered through the footage, looking for the best frames to offer the About Town anchor. Glancing up, he observed the oddly dreamy look on Roberta's face as she stared at a stilled closeup of Inudono. She sighed.

 

Ernest turned to see what the boss was looking at and rolled his eyes the girl.

 

“What the Hell is it that chicks see in that guy??” He asked. Dawson only offered him a shrug and shake of his head in response.

 

 

 

~ooO0Ooo~

 

 

 

Selene sat back on her bed, thumbing through the case files she had surreptitiously 'borrowed', hoping that InuYasha and Kagome would return soon. She had a few questions for him about some of the stranger evidence that had been collected and photographed. Perhaps his intimate knowledge of demon abilities and motivation would help her to solve some of these mysteries.

 

Not that anyone would ever believe that it was anything other than random acts of human violence. Even she still had moments when she would question the sanity of suspecting anything else.

 

This had become personal, however. She needed to know . . . to understand. . . for her own reasons. Her concern for Miranda's safety had been growing with each new file. Just how did Kouga fit in to all of this? InuYasha hated him and it seemed as though he blamed Kouga for the whole of it, and more. That would imply that Kouga was the one issuing the orders. Perhaps Kouga had experienced a change of heart, since the activity had so significantly decreased. Then again, maybe he had a more clear target than before . . . now that he knew Kagome.

 

The thought made her shudder.

 

Michael had returned some time ago, and she could hear him tinkering off in the kitchen. He had tried to call Ouna, and she had heard him leave a message on her voice mail to return the call as soon as possible. He was at least making an effort to make amends for his maliciousness earlier. She had to give him credit for that much.

 

It wasn't like him to show interest in cooking though, and the thought still unsettled her. She had thought about overseeing his efforts, just to make certain that her house wasn't inadvertently burned to the ground in the process, but he had shooed her away citing that she made him nervous.

 

'Tit for tat, Monk,' she thought. His little experiment in her kitchen was making her very nervous.

 

Opening another case file, she noted the sound of Michael going into the bathroom, then coming out and lingering in the hallway. This case was a messier one than most, involving a find of dismembered limbs in an alleyway near the docks. She steeled her nerves for the photos she knew were included, and turned the page. The remains were noted as being from a young female, and the D.N.A. signature was being researched against the list of missing persons that had been reported.

 

“My dear Selene . . . I am going to get you a cat!” The abrupt announcement came from just beyond her doorway, interrupting her thoughts.

 

“What? Why would I want a cat?” She muttered, examining the rather gruesome scene photos. “I do have you, after all . . .” she raised her brow and glanced at him standing in the doorway, “that's enough 'cattiness' to deal with, don't you think?”

 

She observed his jaw work for a moment, noting she had scored a coup with the comment.

 

“Ok . . . I had that coming,” he admitted. “However, my love . . . I do not hunt mice as effectively as a true feline would.”

 

“Tell me you didn't just say . . . mice . . . as in rodent . . .” He had her full attention now and she watched him nod sagely. The idea was simply too foreign for her to consider seriously. “A mouse would starve to death in this house!”

 

“Well, apparently not . . .” he seemed to be watching down the hallway which was odd, and she closed the file she had been reading. “Maybe Kagome has a stash of junk food in her room,” he looked back at her. “She did have a bunch of ramen in her bag at Ouna's . . .” He nodded toward Kagome's door, “I can hear the thing rattling around in there.”

 

“Oh good grief,” she mumbled, rising. “Did you bother to look? Kagome's not the type to squirrel food away . . .”

 

“The door's locked . . . go listen for yourself,” he suggested, backing up as she brushed past him to do just that.

 

Putting her ear to the door, she could hear an asynchronous tapping just beyond. Trying the knob, she found it was indeed locked, just as he had said.

 

“Hey, 'Gome! You in there?” She called through the door, rapping loudly with her knuckles.

 

“The bike is gone, Sally . . . The screen to that window is sitting against the house,” Michael sighed with a hint of exasperation. “They're not in there.”

 

“So what the hell is making that sound??” She demanded.

 

“I already told you! A mouse!” He insisted, shrugging with his hands out for emphasis.

 

“No way . . .” she glared at him, fists on her hips. There couldn't be a mouse in her house.

 

Shaking her head in denial, she darted to the kitchen to search the junk drawer for the emergency key. It was more like an Allen wrench and never having used the thing before, it took several minutes of her dragging her fingers through useless odds and ends before finally finding it.

 

Rejoining him at the door, she held the key up in triumph.

 

“What ever you do, don't let it out of there,” Michael warned her. “We'll catch it and let it go outside.”

 

“I'll buy a damn trap, to hell with catching it!” She growled. He was really starting to sound like a Buddhist.

 

“Poor little, defenseless mouse . . .” he mumbled with a smirk, which drew a warning glare up from her as she worked the lock.

 

Opening the door just a crack, Selene chanced a quick scan around the room for any signs of movement. The tapping had stopped, and it was difficult to discern exactly where it had been coming from. Slipping into the room, she was immediately followed by Michael, who then shut the door behind them to prevent escape of the culprit.

 

All was quiet in the sparsely furnished room, and Selene immediately went to the nearly empty closet and pulled the doors open, carefully checking the dark corners.

 

Michael gingerly pulled at the edges of the bedspread and on not seeing any movement he lowered himself to look under the bed. The lack of available light brought him to push himself deeper under to check the dark shadows of the corners.

 

“Nothing here . . . I know that it wasn't my imagination,” she muttered as she closed the closet doors and proceeded to check the floorboards for possible sites of entry.

 

“No, we both heard it,” his voice muffled from under the bed. “It's in here . . . somewhere . . .”

 

“Any of your little scraps of rice paper ward off unwanted pests?” Selene asked, only half joking as she started opening dresser drawers to check inside.

 

“Hell no . . . or I would have used one of them on Inudono . . .” he grumbled, edging his way out from under the bed. He swallowed, and hesitated a moment from pulling himself completely out, uncertain as to what awaited him in her response to his offhanded comment.

 

“What's this?? I've never seen these before,” Selene fingered the scarlet fabric she found folded in the drawer. “This isn't Kagome's . . .”

 

Sighing in relief, Michael drew further out.

“If it's red, it's Caleb's pajamas,” he offered, just as the tapping began again, accompanied by a low vibration right above him. Startled, he jumped and slammed the back of his head against the bed frame. “OW!”

 

“Serves you right,” she deadpanned as she closed the drawer then stepped over his legs to investigate. “Here's your 'mouse', Monk . . .” She held down a palm sized electronic device which she had discovered vibrating on the bed stand.

 

“What the hell is that thing?” He demanded, sitting on the floor at her feet, rubbing the back of his head with a scowl.

 

“Not sure, kinda looks like a phone,” she pressed a rather large button on the front and the vibration stopped. “No . . . a palm pilot maybe? It's different though . . .”

 

“Oh, yeah. Kagome was looking at it last night and he grabbed it back from her,” he commented, watching her turn the thing around in her hand.

 

Flipping a hinged back panel, she discovered a miniature keypad and screen, which immediately on being fully opened, flickered to life. Projected on the screen was a live video feed of none other than Seth Inudono in all his arrogant splendor.

 

Selene swallowed audibly, then dropped onto the bed and forced a smile, unsure if it was a two way connection or not. She considered closing the thing and putting it back. Just pretend it never happened.

 

She watched him as he slowly blinked, his eyes rolling slightly up under his lids as he did so. She glanced around the unit, wondering where the speakers and microphone were hidden. . . or a camera for that matter.

 

“Officer . . .” She heard him say, so there were speakers somewhere, “You are in possession of my brother's phone . . .”

 

“mmhmm,” she hummed in nervous response, finding herself slightly tongue tied and still trying to figure the thing out.

 

“And, may I ask . . . just where is my brother?” Even though those eyes were on a tiny screen, she could feel them piercing through her.

 

“Oh hell,” Michael moaned. “Gods, Sally . . . Don't piss him off,” he hissed from the floor as he rose to his knees beside her.

 

“Too late for that . . .” The eyes flashed on hearing the comment. “Where is he??”

 

“Uh . . .” Selene answered stupidly then glanced at the window and back at the screen. “He went out . . . With Kagome!” She offered him another smile and a brisk nod, to see him do another eye rolled blink in response. It was pretty obvious to her he was not pleased.

 

“Do you have an estimated time of return for them . . . Sally, is it?” He inquired, and at her nod there was very slight warming of his expression. “My brother has spoken of you most kindly.”

 

“I think soon, it's been several hours since they left . . .” She glanced at Michael, who had moved down to the floor again and was now examining InuYasha's sword which had been propped against the wall. She waggled her hand, and frowned shaking her head at him. “Can I give InuYasha a message for you?”

 

She could feel the Demon's scrutiny again, and it made her skin crawl.

 

“You use that name . . .” He paused a moment, “Why?”

 

“That's his name, isn't it?” She raised her chin. True, he had never told anyone specifically that his name was anything other than Caleb. “I know his I.D. says Caleb, but I . . . I knew who he really was even before Kagome figured it out, at least consciously.”

 

“Ask him how he does that trick with the sword . . .” prompted Michael, who was busy examining the hilt for the hidden buttons he knew must be there. He shook the sheathed weapon, then pulled the rusted blade out and swung it around in the air with a perplexed look on his face.

 

“If that is Mr. Andrews. . .” at Selene's nod he continued, “you would be well advised to not handle Tetsusaiga. It is not a . . . toy. Only InuYasha can command that sword.”

 

With that said, Selene gave Michael one of her patented 'you will surely die a thousand painful deaths' looks, and he froze, still holding the katana out and away from him. Blushing, he hunched his shoulders and responded with his pleading 'surely my dear, I meant no harm' expressions as he sheathed it again. Post haste, he put the sword back where he found it and rubbed his hands nervously on his shirt.

 

“I will make sure he gets your message, Mr. Inudono. . .” she prompted.

 

There was yet another moment of silence, and she watched the miniature Demon on the screen. He was so still that she wondered if the connection had been broken, or if there was a problem with delay in the signal.

 

“Tell him . . .” he arched a brow at her, and his tone was stern, “that I have need to speak with him immediately on his return. It is . . . important.”

 

The screen suddenly went black, before a list of options appeared. Michael leaned over and noted that the call had been ended.

 

“Not much for formalities, is he? Not even a good-bye, or thank you,” he observed glumly.

 

“Wow, this thing is amazing!” she exclaimed as she ran over the list. “Sat. Radio, T.V., G.P.S., Voice or Video Communications . . . DAMN!”

 

“You just got through talking to one of the wealthiest people in the country, and a Demon no less, and you're all aflutter over the damn phone??” Michael stared at her with disbelief. Both of them raised their heads to the sound of an approaching motorcycle.

 

“Tell me you took the ward off the door, Monk. . .” she lowered her head and eyed him, as she closed the hinged back of the unit.

 

“Uh . . .” He rose from the floor, “Ok . . . I took the ward off the door . . .” he offered her his best boyishly sweet smile, then darted out of the room to dismantle the ward, agilely dodging the tossed pillow that followed him.

 

Setting the device back on the end table where she had found it, Selene sniffed lightly at a disturbingly familiar aroma emanating from the direction of her kitchen.

 

Something was burning . . . and it sure as hell better not be her house!

 

 

 

 

~oo0O0oo~

 

 

After abruptly disconnecting the call, Sesshoumaru silently chastised himself for being rude to the nice police officer. However, it had taken an extraordinary amount of focus and concentration to remain placid during their short conversation, and he truly did not wish to inadvertently vent his fury on the innocent woman.

 

It was not her fault that InuYasha tended to be a bonehead.

 

What the Hell was InuYasha thinking, to leave Tetsusaiga in the care of that fatuous clod, Andrews?

 

'Ask him how he does that trick with the sword,' echoed in his mind.

 

The very idea!! He imagined the fool had been looking for hidden buttons or triggers. The list of reprimands he had been keeping mentally for his brother was growing longer by the minute.

 

It had been nearly 24 hours since his last contact with his wayward sibling. Inwardly he fought with the old cliché 'No news is good news', but knowing InuYasha it was a certainty that would not be the case.

 

Damn him.

 

“Another delivery for the young lord, Sesshoumaru-sama,” announced Timothy from the door way to his study.

 

“Does it never stop?” Sesshoumaru eyed the clock on his desk. So late on a Sunday evening and still the deliveries came.

 

He mentally kicked himself for ever even considering taking InuYasha to the opera. Between that, and the hint of his recovery from an illness in the newspaper article, every posturing, conniving, husband seeking, ass kissing member of local society seemed to have a need to send greetings or gifts. At first the arrival of the gifts and messages had been a trickle, no more. Now the library had become a mail room of sorts, with literal stacks of packages and envelopes.

 

It was a marvel that the summons from the Intercontinental Council hadn't been lost in the fray. They would need to leave in two days to arrive at the session in time, and he had yet to tell Kagura of his impending departure, let alone InuYasha who was expected to attend as well.

 

“It seems your brother has many well-wishers, my Lord,” came Timothy's funereal response. “I believe you will want to see this one for yourself, Sir.”

 

“Hn,” the Demon grunted inappreciatively. “Just place it with the other things in library, Timothy.” He waved to dismiss him, but the man remained steadfast, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Sesshoumaru.

 

“I do not recommend placement of this gift in the library, my Lord. The results could prove disastrous.” Without further ado, Timothy retrieved a rather large looking crate from the hallway and set it inside the study.

 

Sesshoumaru rose from his desk, eyes never leaving the resin case, which looked suspiciously like a traveling kennel. Someone sent livestock? Who would be so stupid?

 

“Where is the card?” He asked his attendant.

 

“There was no card, my Lord. However, there are a number of other items.” Timothy motioned toward the hallway, where upon investigation Sesshoumaru found a rather daunting stack of assorted boxes.

 

“Oh my!” exclaimed Kagura from down the hall as she approached the study. “Someone's birthday?”

 

“Hardly.” The Demon responded drolly. Turning to Timothy, he issued his edict, “Have these removed to the library, leave the crate where it is.”

 

“Crate?” Kagura breezed past him into the study. “OH!! He's adorable!”

 

Following her in, he found her cuddling a squirming white puff of fur. The tail was going wildly, as he watched his mate coo and snuggle the little beast.

 

“It's . . . a dog,” he observed belatedly.

 

“He's precious! Is he for me??” she asked hopefully, lifting the puppy up and touching noses with it. “You really shouldn't have!”

 

“That's good . . .” he nodded his head with undisguised amusement at the way she was making over the little ball of fur. “Because I didn't.”

 

“Oh.” He watched her exuberance decline for a moment. “Well, he's still adorable . . . Who does he belong to?” She cradled the puppy, then dropped to sit in a chair, stroking it.

 

“It would be my assumption that it belongs to InuYasha,” he replied. “But from whom I do not know. The question is, what to do with the little beast until my brother deems a call home worthy of his time.”

 

“He's not a beast, Sesshoumaru!! He's a baby, and obviously very hungry for attention . . .” she raised the puppy to eye level and cooed, “aren't you, sweetie?” She looked over at her vexed mate, then grinned wickedly. “He's made the news again, or so I heard . . . something about breaking hearts,” She chuckled. “Bonnie in the kitchen said they had footage of him walking hand in hand on the wharf with a girl.”

 

“Kagome, no doubt.” Sesshoumaru allowed himself a sigh. “I really do need to get it through his thick skull how important it is to not put himself in that position.”

 

“Oh, Sesshoumaru, what harm has he done? He's simply courting his intended mate, ne? It doesn't matter what the masses think . . .” She hugged the puppy.

 

“Too much scrutiny by the press always leads to complications, that is an inevitability that can be counted on . . .” He moved to the window, and watched toward the gates in hopes of seeing the red motorcycle.

 

“Well, just who was it that started the presses?? You were the one who dragged him out into the public eye in the first place!!” She watched his back stiffen, her amusement at his reaction unchecked.

 

“Remember your place, woman . . .” he growled.

 

“Oh, excuse me!” she chortled. “Would that be underneath your bejeweled foot, my Lord??”

 

“I fail to find the humor in this,” he turned and glowered at her.

 

“Of course you do, dear . . . that has never been your forte,” she acknowledged helpfully, dropping the puppy to the floor. “Oh, good grief! Would you just relax?”

 

“Your irreverent attitude is making that impossible!” He hissed at her uncharacteristically. “This Sesshoumaru has to answer for any and all indiscretions.”

 

“Oh, get over yourself.” She joined him at the window and deftly began massaging his shoulders. “You'd think the weight of the world rested on these.”

 

He couldn't help the low moan that escaped with her unexpected attentions. The woman knew exactly how to push his buttons, both pleasant and not so pleasant. Turning, he pulled her into an embrace. He had to tell her about the summons, but was unsure how to do so.

 

“I like this spot much better than under your bejeweled foot,” she grinned into his chest. “Just because I let you mark me, doesn't mean you get to wipe your feet on me, you know.”

 

“You 'let' me mark you, huh?” There was just something wrong about that. He would have to think on a proper response when his mind wasn't so preoccupied. He nuzzled her neck and tried to let go of his apprehensions regarding his brother, and the impending inquisition by the Council.

 

“What is it?” she asked simply, pulling away to meet his golden gaze. “What aren't you telling me?”

 

He should have known better. Now that they were finally bonded as mates, he would not be able to hide behind his mask of indifference. Not that he had had much success at doing so prior to that. Even before, she had learned to read his moods better than anyone else, which had been both a blessing and a curse.

 

He searched her scarlet eyes for several moments, noting the concern as it grew in them.

 

“There is an emergency session of the Council convening in three days. Both I and InuYasha have been summoned.” There, it was out. He braced himself for the impending windstorm.

 

Kagura studied his eyes for several moments, then her eyes narrowed on him.

 

“If what you suspect is true . . . Surely you aren't expecting InuYasha to leave that poor girl unprotected?” Her tone approached accusatory.

 

This was not the response he had expected. What he had expected was outrage that he, her mate, was being abducted by the Councilors for an undisclosed period of time. Or a plea to be allowed to, at the very least, travel with him. Frustrated stomping of feet that her new mate would have to be gone, away from her. Tears and pleading that he try to get out of the obligation. No. None of that. Definitely not what he had expected at all. Instead it appeared that she was blaming the summons having come at all on him.

 

As he considered an appropriate response, movement pulled his eyes past his mate, and to his utter dismay he witnessed the thus far unnamed beast that she had been coddling, squat and produce a dark stain spreading on his antique Persian rug.

 

All in all, it had not been a good day. Sesshoumaru could only wonder what more could go wrong.

 

 

 

 

~oo0O0oo~