InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Art of Tea - ON HOLD ❯ The Art of Tea - Chapter 15 - Infusion of Steam ( Chapter 18 )

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.

 

Reviews are fuel.

 

Namaste

 

By: ElegantPaws

 

Edited by: Meara the Celt

 

Chapter Fifteen is dedicated to Chaos and Serenity.Her“Temporal Sequence” led me down this proverbial rabbit hole to a brand new world. Thank you my dear, a masterpiece.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

"My dear, if you could give me a cup of tea to clear my muddle of a head I should better understand your affairs."

-

~ Charles Dickens ~

 

Chapter 15 - Infusion of Steam

 

Kagome, a genial woman as a general rule, but a little deficient in sporting blood by Sesshoumaru's standards, was on her feet within the blink of patently bored citrine eye.

 

He had anticipated this response. She was so easy to rile. Her current demeanor was preferable to the fearfulness he had felt coming off her in waves earlier. He wanted her acquiescence not her terror.

 

Her glare held promises of imminent death should he continue to address her in that less than congenial manner. How dare he command her to do anything like she was some sort of vassal or concubine of old?

 

“Who the hell do you think you are talking to, Mister Taishou? How many women do you think would still be standing here having just realized the man she had planned to…well… that he isn't even human!?” the dark-haired woman asked between gritted teeth, a small fist gesticulating in the general direction of the diffident jaw-line.

 

Eyes the color of winter sunlight looked down at the delicate fist with mild interest and a modicum of amusement in the set of his lips.

 

`Excellent, she is processing the honor this Sesshoumaru is about to bestow to her dreary mortal life.'

 

“The water grows cold. You will join this Sesshoumaru for his bath, woman. You may ask your tiresome questions as you soap my back,” the lanky Being added, before abruptly turning and re-entering the bathroom, giving Kagome a fine view of his pale, smooth assets.

 

She gulped involuntarily at his utter audacity. At least that is what she told herself, ignoring the flip of her own stomach, the rapid rise of her body's overall temperature and the pulsing warmth between her thighs.

 

“Asshole,” Kagome murmured under her breath, subconsciously beginning to tap a petite foot, thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of tight, twin moons. She licked her lips and whimpered aloud as her new favourite parts disappeared provocatively under the steamy suds. It took her less than a split second to realize he had heard the involuntary whine.

 

Sesshoumaru smirked, flexing the muscles of his arms as they lay over the side of the elongated tub with the desired effect; a sharp intake of breath and a familiar, delectable scent.

 

He had her where he wanted her. It was just a matter of time. Her curiosity and need for retribution would be her undoing. Never before had he looked forward to a conquest of the carnal variety. She was worth the wait. We would soon see who had the upper hand.

 

`She is selective in her hearing. Something this Sesshoumaru will correct.'

 

“In this instance, Kagome, this Sesshoumaru will overlook your selective hearing. The sight of his body is understandably overwhelming to the uninitiated, human female in heat. Nevertheless, do not tarry.”

 

By the time he heard the little growl a vase came hurtling through the air at surprising speed. It was caught in the nick of time as he bared his fangs at the female who was currently astride his lap, woman-fully attempting to strangle him with long digits that could not quite meet at the base of his throat, her blunt fangs bared in effort.

 

Things were progressing nicely.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

Sango stood in the modest foyer, her feet kicking away the torn phone books not yet retrieved by the other residents of the walk-up. No, things were not progressing well at all. Why had she taken the ride from him back to her apartment? Nothing good could come of it; best to get away as soon as possible.

 

“Thanks. It wasn't necessary, but thanks,” she said, shuffling her sodden feet and gripping her own greasy package, just as a rather sleek, dark benz cruised by slowly.

 

Brown, hard eyes followed it suspiciously. It so did not belong in this neighborhood. It lacked the flash the criminal element insisted on.

 

Miroku beamed at the taciturn woman in hopes of an invite up to her apartment. Though currently decrepit, the buildings façade spoke of gentler times at the turn of the century. By the looks of things, she was either exceedingly cheap, or seriously hard up. He could not decide which, but remained curious. He noted the stiffening of her body as her eyes moved away from his to the dark, luxury vehicle now parked at the corner of the block.

 

Those dark eyes looked up into his with a studied, cool reticence. Sango was fully aware of what he wanted.

 

“It stopped raining, in case you haven't noticed. My advice is to get the hell out of Dodge before anyone notices and take a fancy to it.”

 

Miroku continued to beam and look behind her in a last ditch effort. This was certainly strange. By now the average female would have given in. He wasn't sure he liked this game, especially as he did not know the rules. Lunch was getting cold and that damn car at the corner was not moving. His hackles were up. Something smacked of Naraku. He needed to get her inside to relative safety.

 

“Yes, it has. So are you going to invite me up to see your etchings or what?”

 

Sometimes it was simply best to tackle a bull by its horns.

 

The resounding slap across his pale cheek was sufficient to answer at least one question.

 

“Baka!”

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

 

Kagome's fingers fascinated the Taiyoukai. Long, strong, yet fragile in bone structure, tipped with pearly, pink nails. Her claws were oval in shape, not quite suitable for rending. They were weak in comparison to his, but they suited her. His eyes followed the flex of her white knuckle grip around the bath brush's handle before returning to her ever present glare.

 

A silver brow quirked at her with lewd intent as he gripped her hips and forced her to feel his throbbing need against her stomach; he rather enjoyed the unusual shade of pink she became in the sudden realization that she was devoid of clothing as was he.

 

Citrine eyes hooded in anticipation.

 

He really wanted to fuck her senseless, but first, she needed to recognize her place as concubine and consort to the Western Lord. It was tiresome that her initiation required tact, but fortunately, this would be the only time. After this, he could take her as he pleased.

 

`Control, Sesshoumaru, you must maintain control.'

 

Taking a deep breath he shifted his focus, merely quirked a brow at her insolent expression. Her silence was deafening and something in the way she held the brush aloft spoke of violence.

 

“You will begin.”

 

“And you will explain,” she countered, soaping the brush with something akin to malevolence, as she eased herself from his lap, very aware that she was quite naked beneath the sodden remains of the linen sheet. His eyes caressed her breasts as he turned, giving her the full breadth of his back. Her rosette tipped nipples had given the game away beneath the material, leaving nothing to his obvious prurient imagination.

 

Kagome sighed, leaving the last vestiges of her pride behind as she took advantage of his turned back and removed the wet sheet, placing it on the side of the bath. She was annoyed. He was making this her choice, denying her the opportunity of selecting to have no responsibility for what was to come. They both intrinsically knew it was just a matter of time.

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

Legs, long, silken legs appeared out of the backseat onto the pavement with a click. Dark, lethal looking stilettos taking center stage in the afternoon light as the tall female uncoiled herself to her full imposing height.

 

Miroku froze as sultry laughter followed. A gloved hand taking that of the driver's with understood indolent grace.

 

Sharp, yet full lips smiled in knowing as pale emerald eyes took in Sango dismissively then returned to Miroku with a steely gaze.

 

“It seems some things never change, darling.”

 

“Raku? I didn't expect you `til the board meeting next week.”

 

Sharp, white teeth gleamed in the pale face of the strikingly beautiful, flaxen haired woman.

 

Sango, in that moment, felt like shit. All prior thoughts of doing Miroku a dirty fled. There was no point with Cruella de Ville in tow. The man had lost all interest in her and was busy gawking at the tall, slender female with the killer curves and icy disposition. She was unnaturally flawless and hideously beautiful; reminiscent of that other pestilence, Taishou Sesshoumaru, who Kagome had taken up with.

 

Miroku hadn't even noticed as she closed the foyer door and began her ascent up the stairs, so wrapped was he is quiet conversation with this Raku woman.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

Sesshoumaru could tell she was livid, but there was nothing for it.

 

Her breathing had become irregular, revealing a delectable amount of blushing cleavage to match her comely face. She was beautiful angry and so desirable. Such a shame her mouth got into the act too, he noted with keen interest as his lascivious gaze took in her hardened nipples while her eyes remained closed. She still wanted him, though she had seen him in his youkai form.

 

“Why delay the inevitable woman?”

 

One honey brown eye popped open across from him. He noticed for the first time a prominent vein in her forehead that was practically pulsing with rage, while a pale pearlescent glow began to act as halo about her.

 

Sesshoumaru's lips quirked upward in understanding.

 

`You are a Miko.'

 

He wanted her. She was a rare jewel, but she was as yet unaware that she was a pearl of great value. The very reason Naraku wanted her too, no doubt.

 

A little frustrated growl escaped her petulant lips as she continued to scan his face and body speculatively through hooded lids.

 

“See here, Mister Taishou. If we are going to do this, and it is a hell of a big ifconsidering, you need to stop ordering me about. I am not a vassal, not a concubine, not a servant that suffers your ill temper. I am a person; a free thinking woman and you will learn to ask me nicely.”

 

Sesshoumaru flicked a damp, wayward strand over his shoulder indifferently.

 

“Hmmmm… would that you knew.”

 

“What was that?” Kagome asked. He appeared to be smirking but she wasn't sure why. She would soon put an end to that smug expression. “How old are you, exactly, in human years?”

 

Closing her eyes, she indulged in the soporific warmth surrounding her. Kagome pretended to ignore the long, tapered feet, tentatively caressing hers beneath the water.

 

In the last twenty minutes, she had learned a few things, none of which gave her ease. Her grandfather kept rather important secrets for one. There were real demons, not in the Western sense, but the stuff of the mythical feudal variety still in existence. One lay seemingly contented across from her now. She was in reality a Miko, albeit apparently a dormant one, but it explained a lot. In fact, it explained much in the way of care her grandfather had taken in teaching her several ancient tongues. One of which she only had the most rudimentary grasp of, having only ever learned empirical commands. To her it still sounded like growls and yips with the odd gnashing of teeth, but here now with Sesshoumaru they had gained resonance.

 

“Approximately 780 of your years. One loses track of theses irrelevancies such as age over time,” Sesshoumaru responded languidly, inspecting a claw. These endless questions were getting tiresome for the usually taciturn Taiyoukai.

 

Kagome's eyes opened wide as she gaped in disbelief at the male currently eyeing her cleavage with a slightly dazed gleam.

 

Instinctively she crossed an arm over her pert, yet ample, bosom. The act of which made the creamy skin of her breasts more alluring to the male slowly wading across to her side of the bath with marked interest.

 

The judicious application of a damp finger tip to the crescent of the Taiyoukai's forehead stopped his forward progress, eliciting a less than patient growl. Long, well-muscled arms encircled her waist and lifted her to a standing position on the first step of the sunken bath. They now stood eye to eye.

 

Kagome responded in kind with what she hoped was the feminine equivalent to the low, warning reverberations coming from his throat. She raised a pedagogical finger to his patrician nose, removing a strand of wet silk that had dared to mar his otherwise perfect alabaster features. The warning growl abruptly stopping as she carefully placed the strand over one broad shoulder, resting her hand there, while the other retained some level of modesty, covering her nipples.

 

Sesshoumaru's grasp loosened about her waist, eyes narrowing at this sudden docility. No good could possibly come of it.

 

“I'm not done questioning you and I haven't decided yet, Mister Taishou.”

 

He knew it!

 

“Now see here, woman. I have shown inordinate patience with your verbal diarrhea over the last hour. Enough is enough. This Sesshoumaru has needs and you will see to them.”

 

Kagome gingerly stepped backwards onto the second step that lead out of the sunken bath, hurriedly grabbing the towel that had been conveniently placed on her side and securing it.

 

There was mischief in her eyes as she slowly turned around and took him in. He already knew the next words to pass her lips would have cost another their life under differing circumstances.

 

“The current state of your loins, Mister Taishou is of no concern to this Kagome. Keep it in check,” the dark-haired woman said, pointedly, with a leer worthy of Miroku as she minced through the bathroom door with head flung back in victory.

 

The phrase sounded familiar to his ears. Sesshoumaru finally recognized it. She was paraphrasing his words from two days prior.

 

Before the Taiyoukai could retaliate for her galling behavior and wanton disrespect of her new Lord and Master, two piercing screams sounded from his bedroom before the frantic woman's return with another deafening squeak.

 

“What in the Kami is that thing in your bedroom?!” she stuttered breathlessly, adhering to his broad back like a suction cup, the towel lost in her haste to return to the relatively safe confines of his arm.

 

Sesshoumaru blinked meditatively, weighing the merits of the current situation. She was shaking like a reed. He decided, rather magnanimously he thought, to correct her later. It was not her fault that she was so extraordinarily loud and given to extremes of emotions. She was a ningen female, after all, and apparently given to sudden outbursts. The manner with which her little hands clutched at his biceps was most pleasing. He had ever intentions of giving her far more compelling reasons for doing so in the immediate future.

 

Sesshoumaru swiftly turned, caring the female with him as he faced the open fusuma that overlooked the garden….waiting in his birthday suit with a suitably imperious expression.

 

He had to admit it was his fault entirely that she was currently quivering like an Aspen, having neglected to mention the actual appearance of his retainer. At the best of times, Jaken could frighten even the most jaded of gargoyles in the right light.

 

A beaky nose and large bulbous eyes rounded the corner of the fusuma that overlooked the Taiyoukai's private garden as Kagome leapt onto Sesshoumaru's bare back and squeaked, holding fast to his throat. This time she almost succeeded in cutting off the passage of air through the Taiyoukai's wind pipe.

 

Carefully and solicitously he loosened her grip, before placing both large palms over each silky butt cheek. They fit nicely, like two well ripened melons in his grip. Soft, intimate curls grazing his lower back did much to sooth his usual virulent temper when it came to Jaken's gaffs, which were legendary.

 

Kagome had never seen anything like it in all of her years. The little being was a bilious green with protruding eyes. Its beak kept opening and closing as it mumbled nervously and fumbling with its little, chubby claws, stealing the odd malicious glance at the offending female that was using his Lord as horsie. Something his Master, apparently, did not mind.

 

“Jaken! Keep your eyes on your Lord.”

 

The kappa bowed low in supplication, but not before giving the human female one more malicious glare. A glare which had immediate and rather painful repercussions, as the being called Jaken went sailing over the deck and toppled into the stream, landing at the bare feet of a ruggedly, handsome white-haired male, whose dark brows and horrified expression was priceless.

 

Kagome, still attached firmly to Sesshoumaru's back like a leech, looked on with a querulous quirk to her brows. He seemed familiar.

 

Sesshoumaru remained nonplused by the male's sudden appearance, sighing aloud with forced patience. Another matter he had not seen fit to mention would now have to be addressed.

 

“Miss Higurashi, I believe you have met my…”

 

Ahh yes, this must be Inuyasha, his little brother from the night before. If Sesshoumaru could affect indifference to both their nakedness, she would try too. After all, she had the distinct advantage of being covered by his body, Sesshoumaru not so much. Then again, he seemed to have a thing for exhibitionism.

 

One little handshake would not go amiss.

 

Kagome gave Inuyasha the most beautiful, toothy smile that accentuated the modest blush of her cheeks.

 

“Your hair is different. I like it,” she added amiably, hoping to lessen the tension that was slowly rising again at her casual reference to the younger male's appearance.

 

Sesshoumaru was growling again, this time at Inuyasha.

 

No translation was necessary. Inuyasha was to stay put and surprisingly did. Not for the reasons of course, the Western Lord wished.

 

The female in question was glowing rather threateningly, shielding Sesshoumaru, though her words belied her body's defensive stance.

 

She might just be the right choice, after all.

 

~~~~TAoT~~~~

 

The knock was at first ignored. No one came to her door. She must have misheard. There it was again though, just sufficiently loud to garner her attention but not enough to frighten.

 

Sango sighed with annoyance and placed her chopsticks in the open container of steamed veggies. She levered herself up from the low table and padded to the door, prepared to rip whomever was on the other side a brand new one for interrupting her solitude.

 

Four locks and three curses later, amused and slightly apologetic amethyst eyes peered into her no-nonsense brown. Those unnaturally white teeth were pinging at her again even in the dim light of the hall.

 

“Those have got to be veneers. They're just not right.”

 

Shouldering past her before she could protest, Miroku stood in the little hall with his gifts of forgiveness. They included two, long stemmed Lalique crystal goblets, wine, and of course, a rather large greasy brown bag with his own much neglected feast.

 

“No, all mine. I put it down to excellent genes, myself,” he said pleasantly as he swiftly sized up her humble but charmingly, tasteful abode. She had excellent taste in music too. Rather embarrassingly, his stomach began to rumble.

 

“Where's the microwave?”

 

Sango pointed into the kitchenette and smiled, having heard his stomach's protests. He had to be blind not to have seen it. Obviously, he was trying to make conversation. She was just too tired to protest and it would be nice to have some company, even his.

 

“May I?” he added with a chivalrous incline of his head as he stepped through the passageway.

 

“Could I stop you?”

 

He turned to her then and stared into her eyes, causing her to shiver at the appraising glance he gave her. There was something there, rather dangerous beyond the pleasing smile. This man was more than he appeared and not as feckless as he preferred most to believe.

 

“Probably not, but if you wish me to leave, I would,” he answered softly, handing her the glasses and the wine.

 

Sango knew the moment she stretched out her hand the pact had been sealed. She closed the door silently and watched pensively as he set about her kitchen organizing his own repast.

 

Levels below in the barren, late afternoon two striking vehicles remained, completely out of place. Surprisingly no one approached either as a thin, serpentine wisp of smoke escaped the back window of one of them.

 

 

Author's Note

 

Yes, yes, yes. I can hear it now. Another chapter, possibly tomorrow, your wait will be rewarded. I PROMISE. Sincerely hope you enjoyed. Things are getting interesting.

 

EP