InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Art of Tea - ON HOLD ❯ The Art of Tea - Chapter 8 - A Twist of Lemon ( Chapter 8 )

DISCLAIMER - The ownership and general brilliance that is the original Feudal Fairy Tale remains the property of its honored and rightfully revered creator Rumiko Takahashi without whose brilliance, we would not have fodder.

 

 

By: ElegantPaws

 

Edited by: Meara the Celt

 

Chapter Eight is dedicated to AKay Gemini…who has written a lovely piece that should be read titled, “Coffee Shop Girl.” You are missing a treat, if you don't read it, rather refreshing. - simply charming.

 

Namaste

 

Reviews are fuel.

 

 

 

"Nobody can teach you how to make the perfect cup of tea. It just happens over time. Wearing cashmere helps, of course".

 

 

--- Jill Dupleix, "Old Food”-1998 ---

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

Chapter 8 - A Twist of Lemon

 

Sango's lashes fluttered open, dazed. Jewel-toned eyes the colour of deep amethyst looked languidly back at her, with a hint of a smile.

 

Her hands had finally found purchase on a broad chest. Cashmere. The pullover was cashmere, just a shade or two lighter than mauve.

 

His lips were moving again as he stepped back and she finally registered that he had asked her a question.

 

She blinked and cleared her throat, hands finally retreating from the searing warmth of his skin below the material. Sango hurriedly stuffed her hands in her trouser pockets and looked to the floor hoping to hide the heat in her face.

 

“Shall we go through? Let me do the talking, please?” was the barely there whisper.

 

Sango nodded and followed, unsure why she had agreed so readily. He couldn't go about kissing women willie-nillie like this. She would wait and straighten him out later.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

 

Sesshoumaru paused at the bottom of the stairwell, feeling like an eavesdropper. It seemed Miroku never missed an opportunity to plant his seed, or prepare the ground for it.

 

The Taiyoukai shuddered with disgust. The man had the morals of an alley cat. Not that he was one to talk, having sown plenty in his time. The difference being the females in question knew their purpose and understood the honor he had bestowed them, permanently spoiling them for the next male in their midst.

 

Clean and simple, unlike the usual mess and endless tear-filled phone calls Miroku withstood, or the odd rooftop he had to use by way of escaping their retribution. Miroku's current interest looked to be the dangerous variety and not the type to go quietly after their tryst.

 

He heard the door open and close, suddenly hit with the intensity of Naraku's questing aura. Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed, a predatory smirk on his lips. Perhaps he would release his jyaki to tempt the hanyou, but not here. There was far too much at risk here: Rin for one, and well…the Higurashi female for another. The tiresome ningens were now his responsibilities by default.

 

“Mister Taishou?” Kagome asked, standing on the top of the stairwell with a questioning look. Gray hakama and a white haori were draped over one arm, and the diary in the other. Her expression was serious.

 

Golden eyes searched her own. Something was different in her manner and stance.

 

“We need to talk. Please meet me in the garden after you are dressed,” she said carefully, taking the stairs one by one, her eyes never leaving his as she approached him. Sesshoumaru could sense a mixture of fear and excitement passing through her aura as she handed him the wafuku, which appeared to be his.

 

“Hai. I will see to Rin first. You appear to have a customer.”

 

She smiled in relief. Nothing unpleasant or tiresome had come from her simple request, though his eyes had lingered on the diary.

 

“It's Saturday. In the past it's our most profitable day,” she answered pleasantly, giving him a shy smile.

 

“Right, well, do you need me to walk behind you…or anything?” she said, folding her lips and trying to look innocent.

 

Sesshoumaru growled and gave her a look designed to quell her humor at his expense.

“Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. I hardly think you want anyone spying the goods.”

 

“Miss Higurashi, your assistance in this matter will not be needed. I will dress here,” Sesshoumaru retorted icily.

 

Kagome folded her arms and turned on the stair, allowing him privacy.

 

“Fine…Whatever.”

 

A trouser leg hit her over the shoulder followed by a shirt, both still warm from recent contact with his skin. A shiver ran through her body, the scent of him still evident. She quashed the urge to bury her nose in the soft material. What the hell had come over her?! The sooner they got this `relationship' back on a business level the better. She didn't need complications. Her life was set.

 

“You may turn around, Higurashi.”

 

She did, suddenly faced with something alien within her own being. There before her stood a vision. It had to be a mirage. It couldn't be real. He glowed like something otherworldly, like a memory.

 

Sesshoumaru blinked up at the female, head quirked, a sinking feeling hitting him. He was sure he was cloaked beyond human view. Why was she staring at him in that way? He took one step closer to her, irises dilated to the point where only a thin gold rim was evident of his pupils.

 

“Miss Higurashi, is something wrong?” was the gently query, a callused palm touching her cheek, bringing her to.

 

“I've met you before, a very long time ago.” Kagome said softly, her hand instinctively covering the hand atop her cheek, the warmth of her touch causing Sesshoumaru's expression to soften minutely.

 

She smiled.

 

“I might have been eight or nine. It was a rainy Sunday. You and father were in mock battle in the dojo. You both often did that on Sundays, but that was the first time we were introduced.”

 

His deep register reverberated in the narrow passage. “Yes, we have met before.”

 

Kagome stepped back, suddenly very aware of how close they stood. Somehow, this was far more intimate than earlier.

 

“Ahh well, ummm…well, let me see how things are progressing up front. I am the owner you know and when you're ready, we should discuss Rin and our arrangement, businesswise,” Kagome said, emphasizing the last word, unable to keep his eye.

 

Sesshoumaru stepped back, face suddenly glacial. “As you wish, Miss Higurashi.”

 

Kagome stepped gingerly around him, giving a nervous half smile. “See you out back shortly,” she added, swinging the door open, then stopped.

 

“Oolong?”

 

The patrician male gave her an appraising glance and extended his arm. Kagome furrowed her brows and followed his eyes to her hand. She squiggled her nose and gave him a heart stopping sheepish smile.

 

“This Sesshoumaru would not wish your patrons to assume you have resorted to taking in laundry to keep a roof over your head.”

 

“Wiseass…just drop them in the laundry basket upstairs, thanks.”

 

Sesshoumaru gently pulled the trouser leg from her grasp, the feel of it like silk passing through her hands, eliciting another shudder, as their eyes met. The shirt fell to the ground, both stooped to retrieve it, almost bumping heads.

 

“Mister Wiseass to you, woman,” he said, their lips almost touching.

 

“And a fine one too,” she said breezing through the door before he could retort or he could see her blush. The words having left her mouth before she could stop them. Sango might have been right. She was in serious need of a date or two. Maybe Houjo would like to go to a movie on Sunday? He had asked her enough times, she thought as she opened the door leading to the little shop.

 

She squealed, placed the diary on the counter and ran forward into open arms; the arms of Naraku.

 

Miroku and Sango exchanged glances, neither aware of the blood red gaze beyond the seemingly opaque glass doors, nor for that matter the acrid puddle that once was clothing now green glop at Sesshoumaru's feet.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

“Professor Onigumo, what are you doing here? This is a wonderful surprise!” Kagome beamed, genuinely happy to see a familiar face that had nothing to do with business.

 

Naraku smirked at Miroku, dark eyes traveling to the inner door that lead to the family quarters. A subtle wink was not missed by Miroku or Sesshoumaru who burst through the door. The damn woman was all over him of her own volition!

 

All over him, being a relative term, the Taiyoukai's told himself. She had merely shaken his hand and had yet to let go. The reprehensible cur, however, had taken the opportunity to stroke his thumb across the back of the hand in his, lulling her into a false sense of familiarity; too much familiarity by the looks of things.

 

Stupid woman! And Miroku wonders why this Sesshomaru is so particular. They are not to be trusted. Given the slightest opportunity they would abandon…Sesshoumaru stopped himself mid mental rant, as another customer entered the little shop. A gangly male somewhat unsure of himself whose large eyes searched then found his quarry.

 

The tall, elegant male, who looked as though he had stepped out of the historical novel, Shogun, glowered at him. The almost as tall and equally handsome male who currently was attached to the petite, dark-haired beauty leveled him with an equally threatening glare. The two darkly clad males, currently holding up opposing walls, built along the lines of heavy weight pugilists, tipped their designer shades forward and stared menacingly in socked feet, drinking, of all things, bubble tea.

 

About the only friendly face, outside of Kagome's, was another striking male who took him in curiously before glancing lazily over his shoulder at the less than welcoming Samurai who had not moved. Of course there was also Sango looking quite put out, as she in turn, glanced from one to the other of the participants in the glaring match.

 

Par for the course, Sango thought. It just figured she knew him and here she had thought she had managed to keep one thing for herself. She might have known his sudden interest in her volleyball team's upcoming tournament had been a rouse. She had felt so important when she had gotten the check days before and an invitation for coffee sometime in the near future when he was in town. He had yet to even acknowledge her.

 

Kagome remained oblivious as she retrieved the much caressed hand and headed toward Houjo, turning briefly to look down at Naraku's feet in sudden realization.

 

The dark-haired male feigned an apologetic expression, scuffing off the soft leather and handing them to Kagome with a bow. “Sorry, where are my manners?”

 

She eyed him, not buying the apology for a second. “Better.”

 

Naraku could feel Sesshoumaru practically breathing down his neck. It was not in the least comforting for the half demon. There was nothing he could do at the moment; stalemate for both predator and prey.

 

Oshi smiled. Now things were finally on an equal footing, literally. Mister Taishou would take care of things. He could safely retreat for his coffee break in the back and replenish his bodily fluids. It had cost him much in the way of sweat keeping the conversation going before the other two had gotten here and there was an uneasy tension when Mr. Houshi had bantered with Mr. Onigumo. Way too much in the way of pare and thrust. Sango had been atypically quiet. It was simply unnerving having to serve this formidable being and the other customers that came and went unheeding of the dormant threat within their midst.

 

“Hi Houjo, the usual?” Kagome asked sweetly, extending a hand to shake, before she gracefully sank to her knees and removed his sneakers, placing Naraku's by the other pairs of shoes at the door. Florsheim and Prada apparently had a going concern when it came to men's footwear, she thought with amusement.

 

“No, no…Not necessary, Kagome, please get up.” Houjo pleaded, nervously looking into iced citrine and the equally malevolent opacity black of Naraku's. If he didn't know better, he might have just interrupted some kind of argument.

 

Oshi chose that moment to slink away to the back, taking the diary with him for safe keeping.

 

“Oh please. Come in. We have some lovely bubble tea in the back, your favourite. Want some?” Kagome asked cheerfully, looking up into terror-filled eyes. She turned, following his gaze to the two tall males in the center of the tatami covered floor. She had finally read the temperature of the room and stood. Something was going on between Sesshoumaru and Naraku.

 

“I- I don't think I have time right now. Mrs. Lee called and said she wanted a favor, so I thought, I would just…” he said half-heartedly looking down at the back of her head.

 

“Oh no, you are staying.” Kagome said over her shoulder with a thin smile, deciding to take the `bulls' by the horn. “You haven't had the pleasure of meeting either Professor Onigumo, or for that matter, Mister Taishou,” she said flourishing a hand delicately.

 

Neither man moved or even deigned to acknowledge the jean clad male, who smelt ever so slightly of fish.

 

“Your trade precedes you, Mister HooHum. Might I hazard a guess that you are a fishmonger?” Sesshoumaru asked, stepping around Naraku and making a beeline for the much shorter male. Houjo felt the sudden need to find a very tall tree and hide.

 

Houjo wiped his hand hurriedly against damp jeans and extended it. Sesshoumaru glanced at his palm blandly, and sniffed, before slowly inclining his head a fraction.

 

Kagome began to tap her socked foot. “His name is Houjo and you…”

 

“Houjo, my good man, pleasure to meet you,” Naraku pumped his hand with exaggerated hail-fellow-well-met, slapping him soundly on the back.

 

Miroku sauntered forward and bowed. “Miroku and I think you know Sango?” he added smiling amiably. Houjo felt severely underdressed.

 

“I am capable of speech, Ambulance Chaser. Hi Houjo, how's it going?” Sango asked with no real interest.

 

The sound of loud slurping caused all the adults in the room to turn around as a little girl in an orange sun dress appeared, closely followed by Mrs. Lee with a tray of refreshment.

 

“Ahhhhhhh, Houjo, you've come.” Mrs. Lee said smiling broadly at all concerned and most especially the `nice' Mister Houjo. Things were looking up, the elderly woman thought as she scanned the room of available suitors. Perhaps Houjo was not the only choice. There was that nice man in front of the white-haired nuisance and look how charming he was, all smiles for Mister Houjo. He looked respectable unlike the suspicious silver-haired male. Where did he get his money from anyway? The two guerrillas in the ill-fitting suits, however, hmmm.

 

Kagome cast Sesshoumaru a quick glance and hurried toward Rin, who smiled shyly up at her. At least this will stop the malicious looks he is giving Houjo.

 

“Miss Taishou, would you be kind enough to allow me the honor of teaching you the art of tea?” Kagome asked respectfully on bended knee. The little girl giggled and shook her head in affirmation. Kagome smiled into big brown eyes. Rin was trying to make herself as small as the cool glass she held with the oversized straw that still had one bead of dark tapioca at its base. A larger, slender hand took the glass from her gently.

 

“Miss Higurashi requires a response, Rin. Speak.”

 

Kagome jumped to Rin's defense. “She already has, Mister Taishou. We just need to work through the details as to what time is convenient for her.”

 

Sesshoumaru crouched. Miroku, like a good second, smiled inanely at the less than pleased Naraku, whose beady eyes were busily assessing the new complication.

 

He had thought the task would have been made infinitely easier with the death of the Priest, but there was a new fly in the ointment. A rather large and dangerous fly with fangs.

 

“Well, how nice, so good to instill ancient traditions in the young,” he said with a beguiling smile for all concerned. Rin hid instantly behind Sesshoumaru who had turned razor sharp fangs in Naraku's direction as he rose to his full height, baring them for him to see.

 

“I agree. Are you in town long?” Kagome asked pleasantly, ignoring the tall male next to her. She didn't need to look to know he was probably glowering again, observation not being her strong suit that day.

 

“We are leaving, Miss Higurashi. I will call you and we can better discuss the details.”

 

Houjo quietly sat in the corner with Sango, both like wallflowers, confused and unobserved for the most part as they sipped the refreshing drink.

 

“Hey, Sango. What's up?” Houjo asked, watching the display in front of him. Now that he had time to see, he could tell some kind of rivalry was going on between the two men for Kagome's attention.

 

The fairer of the two looked pissed, to put it mildly, each time the shorter spoke to Kagome. He was being territorial, like a dog with a much prized bone. Houjo thanked the Kami that he hadn't said what he had planned when she had so kindly removed his runners. A date wasn't worth his life. He would try another day. She was home now and not going anywhere soon.

 

Sango slurped dejectedly, one eye fixed on the cashmere-wearing lech who currently had his back to her. How had she allowed him to kiss her like that? He hadn't made a move since and a damn good thing too, cause she would thump him if he tried that shit again.

 

“What?”

 

Houjo sighed. “Nothing. Gonna help Mrs. Lee take these in.” He pointed at Sango's empty glass and headed carefully towards the inner door, keeping his eyes averted.

 

Sesshoumaru watched with mild interest the ningen male's retreat into the back, wondering if Oshi had disposed of the evidence he had left behind.

 

“I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight? We can catch up on old times, strictly, academic of course. Catch me up on what you have been doing the past three months. I know a fine little Italian place, not too out of the way and what they do with scampi is simply to die for?” he entreated with a mischievous smile.

 

“Oh…that sounds heavenly,” Kagome said. “My treat.”

 

“No, I couldn't possibly.” He waved a hand dismissively, snapping his fingers. The two thug wannabees hurried to the doorway and retrieved their footwear.

 

“I simply won't hear of it. Pick you up at sevenish?” Naraku said brightly, beating a hasty retreat. He could feel the Taiyoukai's jyaki rising to dangerous levels in so small a space. This was neither the place nor the time.

 

“Miss Higurashi has a previous engagement,” Sesshoumaru said barely suppressing a growl as he gripped Rin's hand tightly. She wriggled, reminding him of her presence as she gazed up at him with a questioning look. He loosened his grip.

 

It was Kagome's turn to glare at the tall silver-haired male. “Wait, you forgot your tea,” Kagome called out, hurrying to the door. Handing it to her professor, she smiled, perhaps more widely than was strictly appropriate.

 

“Mister Taishou is mistaken. Looking forward to it, see you at seven.”

 

She waved as the dark luxury vehicle headed off, her smile faded once it was out of sight. Kagome slowly pivoted on one heel.

 

“Right. Sango, Rin let's help the others in the back, shall we?” Miroku said helpfully, herding both females in front of him, escaping in the nick of time as the first bellow escaped Kagome. She certainly had a fine pair of lungs.

 

The curvaceous blur kept gesticulating up at him. Her dark, shiny mane wildly flouncing back and forth with rage reminded him of a caged tigress. Her aura was in full bloom as it danced about her. Sesshoumaru's skin tingled as she marched back and forth in front of him. Her little growls amused him. What fire.

 

“Are you quite done?” he asked with a bored air, examining a cuticle.

 

Kagome stopped mid rant. He remained unfazed. “Have you even heard a word I've said?”

 

Sesshoumaru paused. “Can't say that this Sesshoumaru has, actually? Was it of importance?”

 

Kagome saw red.

 

How and when she had managed to tackle him to the tatami successfully, remained forever a mystery, but she did.

 

Hovering over his face, legs firmly locked about his waist, small hands about his throat, she growled in his handsome face. Her eyes locked with his.

 

Sesshoumaru blinked in shock. Did she know what she was saying? She couldn't. Still it wasn't his place to look a gift Kami in the mouth.

 

A large hand encompassed her waist steadying her, while the other pulled her head forward.

 

“As you wish, Miss Higurashi,” Sesshoumaru murmured against her lips, pressing home the point with a chaste kiss that rapidly deteriorated into tongues and teeth and low moans and a nip for good measure.

 

She was kissing him. No, that is not what they were doing. They were discussing the recent events that transpired. His mouth was not on hers, his tongue was not currently making a detailed exploration of her mouth, nor was she equally so engaged. No, no such thing was happening. She would think this through later. When had he taken a sip of bubble tea exactly? Kagome mused distractedly, adjusting her position as a hand gripped her derriere more firmly. She would teach him for interfering in her personal plans, she thought, nipping his lower lip, sucking it through her teeth. He really was a divine kisser. Repercussions be damned. Guilt later, kissing now.

 

It was with a pleased expression that Miroku, not having heard a sound in the last two minutes, re-entered the shop proper to find a small female, seated, if seated was the right word, atop a very engaged Lord of the Western Lands. Well pleased with his employer, and the audacity of the little wench, he slowly edged back out. He never knew the big dog had it in him. Things were certainly getting interesting and it wasn't yet afternoon, he slurped happily in thought .Yes, a fine, Saturday indeed.

 

Author's Note

 

….No, they aren't kissing. Where did you get that idea from? Oh you people…soooooooo smutty. Geeeeez. I am surrounded by pervs…hope you enjoyed.

 

EP