InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Smirking Revenge ❯ Intermediate Spaces ( Chapter 22 )

Love's Smirking Revenge

Chapter Twenty-Three

- Intermediate Spaces -

 

 

Where am I?

 

The rhythmic beep of a heart rate monitor sounded somewhere close by and for a while she simply listened. Its pace was steady, almost hypnotic. It nearly lulled her back to sleep but her conscious mind wasn't willing to relinquish its hold just yet.

 

She stirred, experimentally moving fingers, toes, arms and legs just to be sure all the pieces were in working order. There was a constant throbbing ache running through her shoulder and it hurt to breathe too deep, but the pain was tolerable. Strangely, she was thankful for it. Pain meant she was alive. She tried to remember why this made her feel such relief, but her thoughts were clouded like she'd been sleeping for too long or not long enough.

 

What happened?

 

The second question to float through her thoughts left her just as dumbfounded as the first. The harder she concentrated on the answer, the more it seemed to slip away. The only constant was the dull pain that ebbed and flowed through her body with every pulse of her heart and it was that which finally brought the world into focus.

 

The realization that she was in a hospital was benign once she remembered why she was there. The evenly spaced beeps echoing from the machine sped up as the memories came roaring back. She remembered every blow, every word. His face leered before hers, smiling, promising no end to the torture. She couldn't look away from the jet black eyes that bore into her soul showing no mercy or emotion.

 

A sob caught in her throat and her hand fisted the sheets in search of the gun's reassuring weight. She could still feel the uneven crosshatch texture of its grip against her palm.

 

Where is it? Where's the damn gun?!

 

It took a moment before she realized the gun, her only refuge, was gone, taken somewhere far out of her reach. She remembered how easily he'd used it to put a bullet in Inuyasha's shoulder...

 

Inuyasha!

 

With a sharp intake of breath her eyes snapped open and jerked from one dark corner of the room to the other. The heart rate monitor was beeping like a fiend next to her ear and her hands had a white knuckle grip on the sheets. The sudden warm touch of a hand against her naked arm made her jump.

 

It took a few seconds of staring before her brain connected the face in front of her eyes to the memories associated with it. The reaction was instantaneous. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, she rested back against the pillow.

 

“Nightmare?” he asked quietly, pulling his chair a little closer.

 

She nodded feebly. His fingertips brushed against her arm in a soothing gesture.

 

“He can't hurt you anymore, Kagome. I promise.”

 

She pulled in a shuddering breath, let it out, and blinked the tears out of her eyes. His words were as reassuring as his presence. The haunting images began to slowly fade from her mind and she repeated a simple mantra to herself -

 

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

 

Naraku was dead. Oniguomo was dead. She was finally free and it was all thanks to him. Her eyes settled on his face and the familiarity of his gruff expression brought a weak smile to her lips. The relief of seeing him there, alive, spread from the centre of her chest in a warm rush that reached the very tips of her limbs. She'd never been more grateful for anything in her entire life.

 

As her eyes swept over his form, the white tie of a make-shift sling wrapped round his shoulder caught her attention.

 

“You shoulder…,” she whispered, her voice sounding rough from disuse.

 

He dismissed her concerns with a shake of his head. “Don't worry about me. Go back to sleep so your body can heal.”

 

She didn't want to go back to sleep. She had so many things she wanted to ask him, and so many more she wanted to say, but it was as though his words had flipped a switch in her brain. Her eyelids grew heavy and it was a struggle to get out the next few words.

 

“Will you…?” was all she managed, but he seemed to understand. The last thing she saw as her eyes drifted closed was his nod. She missed the frown that pulled at his lips and the way his eyes averted hers.

 

“Yeah. I'll stay.”

 

Too weak to fight the pull, she let his promise wrap around her and like a warm safety blanket it cushioned her descent into the black abyss.

 

 

---------------

 

3 Days Later…

 

It came as a bit of a surprise when the next time she opened her eyes it was to a brightly lit hospital room; made extra cheery by the various bouquets of flowers adorning every surface and the golden sunlight streaming through the window.

 

Her eyes swept the room slowly, taking it all in, until they fell on a certain hanyou sitting, as promised, exactly where she remembered him. The sling was long gone and he stared quietly at her from a chair next to the bed. An empty coffee cup rested loosely between his hands and his hat sat askew atop his head. He looked like he'd had a rough night, or maybe a few. Her eyes locked with his and the familiar sense of warm relief she felt when she looked at him flooded through her chest once more.

 

“Hey,” she croaked, flashing him a weak smile.

 

It felt so good to see him again. Nearly a week spent in Naraku's storehouse had given her time to think about a few things; a lot of things, actually. For one, she was finally ready to admit that even though the physical wounds from Oniguomo's abuse had healed years ago, the emotional ones were still raw.

 

She'd denied the truth for too long, convinced that if she kept the walls up and everyone at arm's length she'd be okay. It hadn't worked. Inuyasha Takahashi, the rude, arrogant, alcoholic, temperamental detective, had broken through her defences and she'd been left vulnerable. She recoiled at the thought of being so defenceless again, but when she was with him it felt like she was healing. The thing that was broken inside of her was being torn down and rebuilt into something new. Being with him felt good; it felt right.

 

There weren't many people in the world she needed like she needed him. In fact, she couldn't think of one. He was the most important person in her life. He'd dominated her thoughts the entire time she was imprisoned and it wasn't just because she was hoping he'd come save her. She'd dreamt of him, sought comfort in her memories of their times together, worried about him, prayed to every god who would listen that no matter what happened to her he'd be okay.

 

It took being abducted, tortured and a near death experience for her to realize the truth. She loved him. Not in that giddy, giggly, sugar pop sweet kind of way. There was something more honest about it. Maybe it was because they'd both been hurt and their hearts were vulnerable. Maybe it was because even though they fought like cats and dogs, on any given day they understood each other better than anyone else ever could.

 

For the first time since Oniguomo she was ready to give her heart to someone. The idea was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. She suddenly found it hard to breathe and the way he was looking at her certainly didn't help. Neither could keep the smile from her face though.

 

“Hey,” he shot back. “How do you feel?”

 

Looking down, she took quick inventory of her injuries. Other than her arm being in a sling, her body didn't seem too worse for the wear. Like his brother before him, Naraku had developed a particular fondness for striking her in the face. She moved her jaw experimentally from side to side and frowned at the soreness of the muscles as they resisted. It was a small price to pay considering the alternative.

 

Flexing the fingers of her left hand she answered, “Alright, I guess.”

 

He flashed a grim smile at her and relaxed back into his chair while her gaze fell nervously to the floor. There was so much she needed to tell him. She wasn't even sure where to start. Would he forgive her for keeping Onigumo a secret? Did he hold her responsible for Kikyou's death? Was he only at her side now out of a sense of duty or obligation? Such thoughts didn't sit well in her stomach. Somehow, she needed to find a way to make things right.

 

“Inuyasha… I-,” she began, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

 

“Don't.”

 

“But-!”

 

Scowling, he abruptly stood and retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair.

 

“I hate hospitals,” he groused, shoving his arms into the sleeves.

 

She stared blankly up at him from the bed. Her brain was so filled with pain medication and antibiotics that it was slow to catch up. Why was he leaving when she still had so much to say? She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find when she awoke, but somehow this didn't seem right. Wasn't he even going to give her a chance to explain?

 

“Don't go…,” she pleaded with her fingers gripping the sheets. The neediness underlying her words was surprising.

 

Swallowing had become painful. The knot in the back of her throat was so thick that even if she could've found the right words to say just then, she didn't think she'd be able speak them.

 

He stopped at the door barely long enough to send a lingering glance over his shoulder. “I'm glad you're alright.”

 

And then the doorway was empty. She gaped at it silently, listening to the seconds tick by on the heart rate monitor. He was gone and everything in her gut told her he wasn't coming back.

 

He's gone…

 

The realization crashed through her like a tidal wave and when the tears came she let them fall, lacking the strength to even wipe them away.

 

 

---------------

 

He could smell her tears from where he stood outside her door. He was a bastard, plain and simple. It took every shred of self control he possessed to keep from walking back into that room, pulling her into his arms and promising that he'd never leave her side again.

 

But he couldn't do it.

 

He couldn't bear to be in that room a single second longer; staring at her injured body, counting the bruises on her face and knowing, knowing, that he could have spared her from them. Maybe not all of them, but the worst of the bunch at least!

 

And the way she looked at him, with such gratitude and affection, it made him want to claw out his own eyes so that he wouldn't have to be tortured by it anymore. The gods certainly had a cruel sense of humour when it came to him.

 

He'd wanted to apologize to her the minute she woke up for not being there for her when she'd needed him. He'd spent three long nights thinking about it, planning out the words he would say, but the second she'd opened her mouth they'd evaporated from his tongue like water under the Sahara sun. He was nothing but a damned coward.

 

His scowl shifted into a pained grimace as the self loathing became too much to bear. Turning, he slammed his fist solidly into the cement brick of the opposite wall until the pain of his cracked knuckles ricocheted up his arm.

 

Dammit! Dammit Dammit Dammit!

 

“Alright, I guess.”

 

Her words echoed through his mind, taunting him. She'd lied for him and put on a brave face, smiling through the pain that probably coursed through her body with every breath. Two broken ribs and three more cracked, a badly dislocated shoulder, a broken jaw, cracked cheekbones and orbital bones… There was so much damage. There was no way she didn't feel that.

 

He'd watched her sleep for three days, inwardly wincing with each breath she took. A bullet through the shoulder was nothing compared to that, and the worst part was he could've prevented it. It was nearly as bad as if he'd laced into her himself!

 

Uttering a pained groan, he braced his hand against the wall and considered dropping to the floor and never moving again. He didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room as her either. He didn't know what the hell to do with himself anymore. Sit outside her door like an obedient dog? Suck it up like a man and stay by her side? Or go back to life outside the hospital doors?

 

He was still torn, trying to decide which direction his feet should move next when a familiar voice caught his attention from down the hall.

 

“Heya mutt!”

 

Kouga.

 

He pulled away from the wall as his partner in crime sidled up to him. His eyes caught the bouquet of flowers Kouga was trying to keep out of sight, but decided he had enough battles to fight without adding another. He nodded a greeting and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“You still here? It's been, what, four days? Go home! Take a shower! Get some rest!” Kouga clapped him on the shoulder and shook it a little as though he were trying to shake some sense into him.

 

“Yeah, I was just headin' there,” he lied, evading his eyes.

 

“Hey, did she wake up yet? How's she doin'?”

 

The mutt glanced towards the open door and tried to get a look inside over his shoulder. Inuyasha shrugged out of his grasp and took a step back to give himself some space.

 

“She's fine.”

 

Something in his tone must've given him away because Kouga shot him a curious look. Pretending he didn't see it, he looked away and scratched nervously at the back of his head. Eager for a distraction, he decided to ask about the man at the storehouse. Not knowing who he was bothered him. He wanted to do at least one decent thing this week and make good on his promise to tell the man's family.

 

“Hey, who was that John Doe DOA? You know him?”

 

Kouga shrugged and crossed his arms, careful of the flower blooms. “Just some yakuza scum, I think. I don't really know to be honest. I got to that hall that led to the balcony and I see him standin' outside the door listenin' to everything that's going on below.

 

“I didn't know if he was a friendly or not, and I could hear you talkin' with that rat bastard trying to stall for time, so I waited till the guy made his move and then moved in to take him out if I had to. He only got one shot off before Takeda put a slug in his chest.”

 

Kouga's fingers found their way to the smooth shaven skin of his jaw and he rubbed at it in thought. “You know, I don't think he was shooting at you. From where I was standin' anyway, it looked like he was aiming for Takeda. I almost feel sorry for him. Some poor guy just tryin' to do the world a favour and make it short a yakuza Boss…

 

He shrugged and shook his head dismally, sighing in frustration at the unfairness of it all. In typical Kouga fashion, he was upbeat again in a shot. Nothing could keep him down for long. Snapping his fingers, he asked,

 

“Hey, did you figure out how Kagome knew the guy?”

 

Inuyasha shrugged and shook his head. Inwardly, he withdrew from the sound of her name and the feelings he'd begun to associate with it. Feelings of guilt, hate, disgust… all directed inward.

 

It was time to leave, before he lost his nerve. Kouga was right - he needed a shower and a change of clothes. Besides that, he didn't want to be within 10 miles of the hospital once he talked to Kagome and saw her tears. It'd be nothing but annoying, prying questions and dirty looks after that and he didn't have the patience for it.

 

He'd only taken a single step toward freedom when a strong hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

 

“Hold up! I've got somethin' for ya.”

 

It was Inuyasha's turn to lift an eyebrow. Hesitant, he turned back around. “What is it?”

 

“Call it an early Christmas present. Here, we dug it out of the floorboards at the storehouse. Ballistics has already been over it so it's all yours.”

 

He caught the clear plastic cup Kouga tossed at him by reflex. The metallic `tink tink' against the hard plastic caught his attention and he held it up to the light to better study the warped bullet fragment inside.

 

Hard to believe something so small can cause such a world of pain, he thought. His demon blood had completely healed the bullet wound in his shoulder two days prior, but it ached now out of sympathy for the memory.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

Kouga's question went unanswered.

 

He stared up at the bullet, scrutinizing it in the fluorescent hospital lights, turning the cup this way and that. Finally, sounding preoccupied, he asked, “You're sure this is the right one?”

 

Kouga nodded and leaned in, his detective instincts making him curious. “Yeah it had your blood all over it. Why, what's up?”

 

Inuyasha shook his head thoughtfully and frowned. It's not gold.

 

“It's not gold,” he muttered, repeating the unsettling thought aloud for his partner's sake.

 

For his part Kouga looked thoroughly confused but a fire of excitement had begun to shine in eyes.

 

“Was it supposed to be?” he prodded.

 

“It shoulda been. If he was the one…” Inuyasha's words trailed off as his mind whirred, already running a mile a minute. He made his way purposefully toward the double doors at the end of the hall, tucking the bullet fragment into his jacket for safe keeping.

 

“Where you goin'? Are you on to something? You can't just leave me hangin' like this!”

 

His feet didn't halt for Kouga's shouts of indignation. There was no stopping them now. He practically ran to the snow dusted squad car he'd left in the Visitor Parking four days prior. As he slipped inside and kicked the snow off his shoes he silently thanked his new partner. Uttering a quiet snort, he jammed the key into the ignition turned it, bringing the engine roaring to life.

 

Early Christmas present indeed.

 

 

-----------------

 

 

“Heya Kagome!” Kouga called out sounding extra cheerful as he rounded the corner into her room.

 

He tactfully averted his eyes when he noticed her wiping tears from her cheeks and made a mental note to torture an explanation out of the mutt if he had to. When he looked back she was offering him a small smile from where she sat upright on the bed. Walking over to her, he held out the small, vibrant bouquet of flowers that he'd picked up in the hospital gift shop. She accepted them with a gracious nod and automatically brought them to her nose to breathe them in.

 

“Kouga, thank you. They're beautiful.”

 

He felt an uncharacteristic blush tint his cheeks pink and hastily looked away, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he did so.

 

“No hard feelings, okay? About the whole gun thing?”

 

“No hard feelings,” she agreed and nodded, surprisingly forgiving given the circumstances.

 

He breathed an inward sigh of relief. He'd been worried about that - her holding a grudge. Sometimes civilians didn't understand the complexity of situations like that. A cop's gotta do their job in a hostage situation no matter who's holding the gun or how important they are to them. He'd always thought she had a good head on her shoulders. He was glad to see he was right.

 

Trying to be discreet, he studied her injuries in the fading daylight. It was strange seeing her this way, looking so small and vulnerable. The Kagome he knew was larger than life, a hot little spitfire who didn't take shit from anyone. The girl in the bed looked like Kagome under the bruises, but apart from that he didn't have a clue who she was.

 

Taking a turn about the room, he drew to a halt by the window and gazed out at the parking lot six stories below. He watched the mutt's car back out of its spot and speed toward the main road. Damn. He was definitely on to something. He'd have to torture the details about that out of him later too.

 

“So, they treatin' you alright in here?” he asked, turning with a smile to the girl in the bed.

 

“I guess so,” she shrugged. “I just want to go home. It feels like an eternity since I've been able to sleep in my own bed...”

 

He didn't like the faraway look that suddenly clouded her eyes and moved quickly to change the subject.

 

“So how `bout the food? Is it as bad as they say?”

 

She glanced sidelong at the untouched tray of food that'd been left next to her bed.

 

“I wouldn't know.”

 

Between waking up and having Inuyasha walk out on her he figured there hadn't been time enough to eat.

 

The far away look was back in her eyes and Kouga watched anxiously as her attention was drawn to the fading sunlight beyond her window. He began to wonder if she'd ever go back to the way she was before. All week he'd been celebrating like a hero because they'd arrived in time to save her, but perhaps they'd been too late after all.

 

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the window and watched a plane cross the sky.

 

“Well I'm glad you're doing alright. You had us worried for a while there.”

 

Her smile was fleeting and it didn't reach her eyes.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Nothing to apologize for, beautiful,” he said, brushing off her apology with a wink.

 

Remembering his conversation with the mutt in the hallway, he decided to ask about the man in the storehouse. The mystery was getting to him too. From the look of him the guy was pure yakuza but he couldn't figure how Kagome had ever become connected to the likes of him. Were there even more skeletons hiding in her closet? He sincerely hoped not. He didn't want to be disappointed by her again.

 

“I was wonderin' - who was that guy at the storehouse? The one who got shot. It seemed like you knew him?”

 

He watched her reaction carefully and realized belatedly that he was searching for tell tale signs she was lying. Once a cop, always a cop; there was no getting it out of his system. He felt instantly guilty when he noticed her shoulders shaking. He was at her side in two steps, pulling the mutt's chair up close to the bed. Wearing an apologetic look, he took hold of her hand.

 

“Sorry, I didn't… Shit, I was just curious…”

 

She shook her head and sniffled loudly while wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

 

“No, it's fine. I don't know why I'm being like this.” She laughed lightly; a shaky, nervous sound. “That guy… He's no one really. He's just some yakuza.”

 

“And?” he prodded, her evasive answer making him more curious than ever.

 

“You're going to think I'm crazy.”

 

She sent him a withering look and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. It took a heavy sigh and an encouraging smile from him before she was ready to continue.

 

“Before Naraku got there he was…nice to me. We talked. His name's Kesuke. He has a daughter named Yuriko. She's only six. He didn't want to be a yakuza, you know, but it was the only way he could pay the bills. He was a socially inept jerk off, but he wasn't such a bad guy. Even when he left he…”

 

Her words trailed off as memories claimed her.

 

“He didn't deserve to die like that,” she finished in a quiet whisper.

 

Kouga sat back and let out a despondent sigh. Stockholm Syndrome. Damn, he thought. It was unfortunate, but at least the guy was dead so there'd be no complications down the road. She was right, he hadn't deserved to go out like that but such was life. It wasn't always fair to those who deserved it.

 

Eager to pull her out of her funk, he leaned in and offered her his most charming smile.

 

“How about I make you a deal? You concentrate on getting better and when you get outta here I'll take you for dinner somewhere nice. Your choice.”

 

She smiled at that and her eyes seemed to come alive again.

 

“Okay, it's a deal,” she promised. “As long as you clear it with Inuyasha. I don't want a repeat of last time.”

 

Kouga thought back to their previous breakfast date and had to laugh at the memory of the mutt storming in halfway through to grab him up around the collar and threaten to beat his face in. Typical Takahashi.

 

“Don't worry, I've got it covered,” he laughed and gave her hand a reassuring pat.

 

His eyes glanced automatically at the empty doorway and he couldn't help but wonder if in a few days time asking the mutt for permission to take her out would even be necessary.

 

 

---------------

 

A sharp winter wind whipped down the narrow street; it tousled the dark hair around her face and stole her breath away. Her ruby shaded lips pursed with annoyance while her heel stubbed out what was left of her cigarette on the sidewalk.

 

She wasn't accustomed to waiting and with each minute that passed her temper grew shorter. Hunching her shoulders, she tucked her chin into the luxurious warmth of her fur collar and studied the café across the street.

 

Its interior lights cast a warm yellow glow against the dark pavement, inviting passers by inside. The oversized furniture and simple décor gave it a warm and cozy appeal, but it wasn't her style. From the razor sharp point of her heel, to the hard line of her mouth and the cool, impassioned intelligence she was known for there was nothing that could be considered warm or cozy about her.

 

She was Kagura Suzuki, director of Tokyo's top yakuza syndicate; she couldn't afford to be soft, or weak. At every turn she had to remind those beneath her that she had every right to stand at the Boss's right hand.

 

Daily life had become a constant battle - between the ruthless insubordinates jockeying for her position and the near constant need to reassert Inagawa-kai's dominance over Tokyo - and it was wearing her thin. Sometimes she wondered how much longer she could endure. Was it even worth it? On some days it was harder to answer that question than others, this being one of them.

 

Her watch read 10:05. It was time to leave. Curiosity had gotten the better of her this time, but she didn't wait around for anyone. She couldn't afford to look weak no matter how badly she wanted answers. It was as she turned to leave that her contact decided to make an appearance.

 

“You're late.” Her tone was biting and it had the desired effect. He bowed low, showing his shame.

 

“My apologies, Director. Forgive me. Did you hear the news?”

 

“News?”

 

“The Boss is dead.”

 

Those four words resonated through her, momentarily stealing her composure. Dead? Could the gods be so kind? She'd spent half a decade tolerating whatever abuse his sadistic mind could think to dole out and now, just like that, she was free? It hardly seemed possible. But now wasn't the time for celebration. She had to stay in control - now, more than ever.

 

Maintaining her cool composure she snapped, “You'd better have something for me.”

 

While he nodded and retrieved a manila envelope from inside his jacket, she put another cigarette to her lips and lit it in a futile effort to keep warm. Inside the envelope was a set of glossy 8x10 photographs.

 

“What is this?” she sneered, holding up a photo of the café across the street. An all too familiar face was shown leaving its door looking rather preoccupied with his thoughts.

 

“I've been watching him for a while now. He comes to this place a lot,” he explained, aiming a derisive glance at the café. “Kami knows why…”

 

“What's so special about it? Does he have a connection inside?”

 

She flipped through a few more photos, studying them through a haze of cigarette smoke for signs that the café was a front. There didn't appear to be any. Her contact seemed to agree. He shook his head and shoved his hands under his arms to keep them warm.

 

“I don't think so, nothing that I've found anyway. It's just a coffee shop. I think he likes to talk to the waitress,” he offered, tilting his head to study the photo on the top of the pile. It was a close up shot of the girl. She was young, no more than 20 if she was a day, and cute. The venomous jealousy that surged through her veins was both sudden and potent.

 

“Can't blame him. She's a cute little thing.”

 

Kagura made a sound of disgust at his uninvited commentary and he hastily retreated with an apologetic bow.

 

After shoving the photos back into the envelope, she slipped the entire package into the cavernous designer bag that hung over her shoulder. Taking a long, slow drag from her cigarette, she watched the small wisp of a girl through the café's front window.

 

The pretty young thing was moving gracefully about from table to table, wiping them down while collecting the used mugs and teacups. She was tempted to walk in there and lace into the little bitch herself but she couldn't afford to be connected to this. There weren't many men in Tokyo she feared, but she feared him. If he knew she was involved there wouldn't be a single piece of her left that was large enough to identify. The thought sent a shiver down her spine even as it hardened her resolve.

 

Taking another drag, she blew it out slowly and fixed her hard, calculating gaze on the neon sign posted above the coffee shop door that labelled it the Vica Café. How quaint. Terrifying though he was, Sesshomaru had to learn some respect. Perhaps this would be one way to remind him that he wasn't as untouchable as he liked to think.

 

“Burn it,” she ordered.

 

“And the girl?”

 

She lifted an eyebrow and a smirk tugged at her ruby stained lips.

 

“I'll leave that up to you.”

 

She didn't need to wait around to see her contact's nod of agreement. He would do as he was told if he wanted to be paid. The satisfaction that surged through her made her feel as though she were walking on air. With each click of her heel that echoed against the pavement her confidence soared higher.

 

For the first time in her life she could do as she pleased. She felt like the soaring eagle that floated freely over the countryside on the back of the wind. She was untouchable and finally, at last, there was nothing left standing in her way.

 

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Author's Note: This chapter came out sooner than expected (terrible school work procrastination on my part) so I figured I'd post it. I hope you liked it!

 

I will be on hiatus for the next few weeks due to my thesis being due at the end of the month so please be patient with me :) Rest assured, there's lots more to come with this one.

 

I just noticed the other day that LSR was nominated by landofthekewt and LuxKen for best Action/Adventure and Best AU in the IYFG awards. Thank you so much for the support you guys!

 

This chapter goes out to you Inu_Does_Me as well for writing one of the nicest reviews I've read in a while. :)

 

Happy 2009 Everyone!

 

- Langus