InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Gods' Opinion ❯ Appetizers ( Chapter 7 )

The Gods' Opinion

 

Disclaimer: Almost all characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko.

 

Warning: This is a mature story and I mean that in more than this story only containing sexual situations and bad language. It contains adult themes.

 

Summary: Kagome is trying hard to have a baby. But when things don't work out, she visits the best fertility doctor in the world. She finds her feelings and beliefs challenged as she struggles to hold onto her dreams.

 

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Chapter Seven Appetizers

 

“Hey!” Kagome greeted her love the moment the door sprung open with his arrival into their home.

 

“Kagome,” he happily spoke her name, opening his arms up to her. Kagome closed her eyes as his arms embraced her tightly, relishing in the contact of the hug. “I missed you.” He dropped his coat, keys and other items from work right there on the floor, only to worry about them later. He lifted up his foot to kick close the door to give them privacy from nosy neighbors.

 

“I missed you too,” she breathed out. She tilted her head back to look at him only instead to receive a very deep, mind-numbing kiss. Oh yes, he did miss her just as much as she missed him. “How was work?” she fumbled out as she caught her breath and her thoughts before they flittered off.

 

Relaxing his hold on her, he shrugged his shoulders. “The usual. And you?”

 

Kagome giggled as she laid her head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat thunder in her ears. “The usual.” Taking a firm grip of his hand, she pulled him into the dining room where dinner was ready and waiting.

 

“Smells good,” he said as he sat her down in her chair, being polite to her in the comfort of their home. Tipping her head back, he gave her a simple kiss. Just because.

 

“What is it?” he asked as he sat down in the chair next to hers.

 

“What is it?” she questioned him mockingly. But the smile on both their faces gave each other away. “It's lasagna.”

 

He inhaled the smell of the saucy concoction, the smells of different flavored cheeses and meat sandwiched tightly in large noodles teased his senses. “I like it.”

 

She laughed at him as she playfully slapped his arm. “You haven't even tried it yet.” She scooped out a generous portion for him and slopped it onto his plate. She served herself a smaller portion and placed the spatula back in the lasagna pan. There was also garlic bread and salad to accompany the Italian dish.

 

“Itadakimasu,” they sang out in unison. Most of dinner included Kagome talking about her day. He stayed silent to listen to her and to eat, nodding or shaking his head when asked about something. There was plenty of time to talk about his day. He was more interested in hers anyway.

 

Once finished, together they cleaned up the dishes before retiring to the living room. Sitting on the couch, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they watched the sun dip into the buildings. They sat there quietly, taking in the last few moments of the sunset.

 

Perhaps it was the serene moment, the company, or a combination of a lot of little things that ignited a need in each of them; a need for each other.

 

Like a clash of water splashing against the rocky shore, Kagome flung herself onto his lap, coiling her arms around his broad shoulders, entrapping his waists with her thighs and silencing any protests he might have had with a bruising kiss.

 

He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, grinding his hips deeply into her core, letting her know that his need for her was there. Their tongues danced and tasted each other as the crisp spring evening air warmed around them. His hands roamed up her back, gripping onto her neck, giving him control of any and all of the kissing.

 

Kagome gasped as she found herself lifted up and flipped around, her back up against his chest, her fleshy bottom sitting on his hard, swollen member. She leaned back into him, her head cradled in the crook at the top of his shoulder as his hand snaked up underneath her shirt to find her lace-covered breasts already sensitive, but aching for his touch.

 

His lips, tongue, and tiny nips marked her exposed throat and shoulder as his fingers pinched and pulled at her needy nipples. She breathed heavily and in quick short bursts as her body tried to keep up with the different sensations he bestowed upon her milky skin.

 

Down past her flat stomach, he found the button to her jeans. Unsnapped and the zipper down, he slipped his hand down into her underwear to find other parts of her begging him for attention as well, crying to be played with.

 

“Ooh,” she mewled as he found her bud, the one that only increased the sensitivity of her skin, the one that really started the buildup of pleasure deep in the pit of her stomach. Her back arched out, jutting her pert breasts into the one hand giving them `kneady' attention.

 

Any stable, direct connection to the real world was disconnected as flashes of colors and intense physical feelings found a place to play. Her legs reminded her of Jello - quivering and shaking by touch alone - as her body was ravaged by skilled, loving fingers. Her ability to speak anything short of a vowel disappeared as well.

 

“Kagome . . . “the voice breathed huskily into her ear. She moaned quietly in response finding the talking to be distracting. She didn't want him to stop. It was right there, the end goal, and the release from this tension-filled prison.

 

“Kagome . . . “

 

Kagome opened her eyes to find that she had to blink a couple of times to realize that the room was dark and that her eyes were actually open. There was a light coming from behind the shadow of the man standing in the door.

 

“Kagome, are you all right?”

 

Kagome moved up onto her pillows into a sitting position as her mind worked on figuring out how the hell she went from being pleasured by - gulp - Dr. Takahashi to having Hojo in the bedroom at, she glanced over at the red digits, 2:28 in the morning?

 

She was dreaming, partly. Kagome sheepishly pulled her hand out of her damp panties, twisting her fingers into the sheets to wipe her own glistening liquid off of them. The darkness of the room hid the blush that sprouted along her cheeks.

 

“I-I'm fine,” she croaked out with a strain, embarrassed by being almost caught. “Just . . . just a nightmare.” It was a little fib, but what could she say? That she was involuntarily masturbating to a fantasy involving her fertility doctor, Dr. McHunky Hanyou. Like that would be an accepted answer for the straight-laced Hojo.

 

Hojo frowned, his body tensing in preparation of consoling his Kagome. “Will you be okay?”

 

“Yeah, it wasn't about . . . “Kagome's voice faded as she recalled the nightmares that plagued her mostly sleepless nights after the death of her grandfather and brother. It had taken several months before she had a night without visions of car-crashes interrupting the dreams she wanted to have.

 

“Okay,” he quietly replied as he finally entered the bedroom, relaxing when he knew she was fine. She watched as he moved to the dresser, pulling out fresh underwear and pajamas for the night. “Go back to sleep. I'll be in after a quick shower.”

 

Kagome nodded, unsure if he could see her passive response in the darkness. She moved back down into a lying position, turning onto her side, tucking her scented hands underneath her pillows.

 

“Night Kagome.”

 

Kagome yawned as he eyes gently shut. “Night . . . “She knew any chance to finish her dream, as well as her other actions, were all lost. This time, there would be no dreams, just plain dull sleep.

 

xxxxx-----xxx-----xxxxx

 

Briskly walking back from the gym where she did more than her normal workout to release that tension Hojo had interrupted, Kagome returned home to take care of the day's activities. The spring days felt like summer ones as June was a little less than a month away. A winter baby?

 

Kagome took a long hot shower to wash away the sweat from the workout and the sexual tension, which she noticed still wasn't going away. She was going to regret her decision that extra laps in the pool, as well as the extra two miles of stairs was enough to replace that sexual tension with tense muscles. It would only bring her pain tomorrow. Pain, pleasure, for some, there was no difference.

 

Once dressed, Kagome headed over to her office, the kitchen table. There were papers to grade, lessons to plan and then her capstone project that had little more than a month left until it was to be turned in. It was the culmination of all of her training neatly typed out and bound to be scrutinized by the best chefs and culinary artists in the city, an idea that she always yanked out of her head so she could concentrate without getting nervous.

 

Soon, it was lunch. Kagome prepared a toasted sandwich with turkey, ham, cheese and some leftover tomato sauce she had stored in the fridge, before returning back to her work. She planned to wait another hour before calling Sango and inviting her over for dinner; something she hadn't told Hojo about yet.

 

“The Izayoi Clinic, this is Saori speaking. How many I help you?”

 

“Hi Saori, this is Kagome, is Dr. Taijiya in?”

 

“Oh, good afternoon Kagome. Hold on for a moment while I check.”

 

Kagome listened to the voiceless tunes of soft rock while she tapped her purple pen on the stack of graded papers. Now that the grading was out of the way, after this call, she could focus on her project. A few hours to work on it until dinner time. What was she going to make for dinner?

 

“This is Dr. Taijiya.”

 

“Sango, its Kagome.”

 

“Kagome,” Sango said with some surprise. She hadn't expected Kagome to take her up on her offer so soon. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I would like to invite you and a guest of your choice, if you'd like, over to my place for dinner Friday night.”

 

Dinner? Sango sat up straight in her chair, reaching out for her electronic organizer. “What time?”

 

“Uh, six would work.”

 

Sango leaned back into her chair, kicking her heeled covered feet onto her desk. This was certainly unexpected. Still . . .

 

“Can I give you an answer later, to check my schedule?”

 

“Sure. I'm calling Dr. Takahashi back on Thursday and I can check back with you then.”

 

Inuyasha was invited? He hadn't mentioned anything when she saw him this morning. Sango leaned forward, again checking her appointment book. She was scheduled to meet with Kagome that day.

 

“So, if I make it Friday, it might be best to reschedule your appointment.”

 

“Uh, sure, though, maybe you could . . . “Kagome let out a sigh. “Yeah, I could do double duty next week. I. . . I would feel better if both you and Dr. Takahashi could show up. I tend to be more open with people I've eaten with.”

 

“Of course. Food is a wonder like that. So, we'll schedule you for two appointments next week and dinner, Friday at 6.”

 

“Yes. That sounds good. I'll talk to you Thursday.”

 

“Sure, Thursday.”

 

“Have a good day Sango.”

 

“You too Kagome.”

 

Sango hung up the phone. Dinner with Kagome and Hojo. She readily admitted that it was a golden opportunity to study the two together in a comfortable environment. And she was allowed to bring a guest. This was a chance she couldn't ignore. Observation was a proven technique that could help this couple out. However, she faced one problem: Inuyasha.

 

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Kagome worked diligently in the kitchen, simultaneously fixing dinner as well as her project. She heard the door open followed by it closing and the jingle of keys being tossed onto the table near the door. Hojo was home. Now, or should she wait?

 

“Hey,” Kagome said as she checked the grains in the rice cooker. Hojo had wandered in, going straight to the refrigerator.

 

“What's for dinner?” he asked while searching for something to quench his thirst.

 

Kagome looked at the giant pot with the simmering food inside, the broth bubbling up and splattering some flavor up and out to her nose. “Oden.”

 

Hojo chuckled as he closed the fridge door, holding a can of milk tea loosely in his hand. “I see. Your favorite.”

 

Kagome smiled sheepishly. “Well, I just happened to have all of the ingredients handy.”

 

“How much longer `til it's done?” He snapped the tab and quickly gulped down half of the drink.

 

“Just a few minutes more.” Kagome turned back to the stove finding herself a bit nervous, more afraid than plain nerves. “Hojo,” she blurted his name out clumsily, as if she wasn't meant to speak it. “I-I . . . I invited Dr. Takahashi and Dr. Taijiya over for dinner Friday night.”

 

Hojo arched an eyebrow up into his neat bangs. He stopped drinking the canned milk tea as the words settled into the part of his brain that prompted him to ask questions. “Oh.” He moved the can away from his lips. He pursed them closed as he thought about what she had said. “Why?”

 

“Why not?” Kagome giggled back, concentrating on her soup. She didn't see the concerned look on his face. Or was it detest? She spun around, the bamboo spoon in her hand, when she caught the look on his face before he had a chance to blank it out. “You . . . you think it's a bad idea?”

 

Hojo didn't frown, but he definitely wasn't smiling. He set his can down on the counter as he strolled over to his girlfriend. “I don't think it's a bad idea, but I feel . . . uncomfortable with it.”

 

“Uncomfortable?” She stepped up to him, resting her non-spoon hand on his arm. “Because they are our doctors or because you don't know them?”

 

He shrugged his shoulders as he replied, “Perhaps a little of both.”

 

Kagome turned back to the stove, turning the heat off and moving the soup off that burner to someplace where it could cool. Dipping the spoon back into the broth, she stirred everything around, mixing the flavors and ingredients about.

 

“Having them over for dinner would give us a chance to get to know them.” Kagome turned back to look at Hojo. He was staring at the ground, finding the tessellated pattern of the linoleum floor interesting. “I would feel better if I knew them, for our baby.”

 

Hojo looked up at his Kagome and let out a quick puff of air. He nodded his head at her. “Of course,” he answered, sounding more like he was just giving into her wants and needs. But this was for a child, something both of them really wanted. If Kagome felt that it was important to know her doctors, then he wouldn't argue with her.

 

Kagome smiled at his tone of permission. “Go sit down. I'll bring dinner out to you.” She handed Hojo his canned drink before pushing him out of her kitchen so she could finish the last part of dinner.

 

She was glad that he was okay with this dinner plan of hers. Kagome had high hopes for this dinner, mostly for herself. There was a lot she needed to sort through and deal with as she prepared both her body and mind for the difficulties that lay ahead of her.

 

xxxxx-----xxx-----xxxxx

 

Friday.

 

Today was Friday. The dinner.

 

Kagome had been in the kitchen for hours, prepping food for tonight's feast. A call to the Izayoi Clinic let Kagome know that both Inuyasha and Sango were coming, as well as an unnamed guest. She was pleased though, everyone was coming. It also made the butterflies in her stomach flutter around a bit more than usual. Warning of an oncoming storm perhaps?

 

After the phone call, Kagome spent all Thursday night creating a menu; appetizers, salad, main course, side dishes, beverages and of course, a delicious dessert. The only problem was that she wasn't granted with the time to test out said menu. Tonight's dinner was not only the test, but the final performance. A no-no to her in the world of food hospitality.

 

She did find the time to slip into the shower, go back to the kitchen to tend to the main course, back into the bathroom to do her hair, back in the kitchen to chop and slice, slipping into a dress then an apron before back into the kitchen to grate and mix. At 5:33, she was finally finished getting herself ready and could focus on finishing the food.

 

Where was Hojo?

 

Rushing into their bedroom, she pulled out some nice dress clothing for Hojo and placed them in the bathroom so that when he finally made it home, he could shower and dress quickly. Kagome sighed at how easy it was to be a guy when having to get reading for something like this.

 

“Kagome.”

 

Oh, thank the gods, her mind cried out. “In the bathroom,” she yelled. Hurrying out of the tiled room, she found Hojo walking briskly towards her. “Hurry. Shower. Clothes already in there,” her short, quick words rushed out of her mouth.

 

Hojo said nothing as he walked passed Kagome, disappearing into the bathroom with the door closing and locking behind him. Kagome scurried back into the kitchen to finish the main feast for tonight's dinner. There were lots of little things to do, which caused the panic to rise in Kagome, unsure if it was all going to be done in time. Her guests were due to arrive in any moment.

 

Kagome jumped at the sound of their doorbell announcing the arrival of her guests. Scrambling to pull the apron off of her, she tossed it onto the floor, straightening out her dress as she scuttled her feet across the hardwood floor to the door.

 

Hojo met her there, his chestnut hair looking more like melted chocolate after his shower. Kagome straightened out the collar on his shirt as the doorbell cried out again. Kagome took a deep breath, asking her tense muscles to relax as the evening officially began.

 

“Sango,” Kagome happily greeted the doctor. Stepping aside, she motioned for Sango and her guest to enter their apartment.

 

“Here, I can take that,” Hojo offered as Sango slipped off her caramel colored pea coat.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Hojo placed the coat in the nearby closet for safekeeping. Sango wore a low-cut caramel colored cotton sweater with a similarly colored silk camisole peeping out from underneath. A forest green brocade pencil skirt that was cut off at her knees swished when she moved back to the door to slip off her dark green sling-back heels. Sango then turned to her guest, grabbing onto his arm and hauling him inside. “Hojo, Kagome, this is Dr. Miroku . . . “

 

Miroku pushed passed Sango, taking a hold of the hands of a very startled Kagome, planting a quick peck on her knuckles. “Please. Dr. Miroku or just Miroku. Either one works for a charmingly beautiful example of the female species.”

 

Sango rolled her eyes at the man. She'd known him for how long and he had never changed. Even with her weapon of the psychological, the man was too settled in his ways. But, time allowed her to test a variety of solutions to deal with his overzealous flirtations.

 

And the solution that worked the best; physical abuse. As a psychologist, she should've been repulsed by the idea of resorting to such archaic tactics, traditions of the very old, but with Miroku, she lost all resolve and acted almost prehistoric around him. Besides, it worked and that's what mattered most.

 

“Sango-dear . . . “Miroku pleaded as he rubbed the part of his head that had connected with Sango's rock hard fist. It had hurt, like it normally did, but, like he normally did, he ignored it.

 

Kagome and Hojo remained silent, though a bit shocked, as the scene between Sango and Miroku played out before them, sharing only looks of confusion. However, it seemed to them that this was a common occurrence between the two, causing Kagome to just grin and laugh at the odd couple.

 

“How about we move this into the living room? Hojo?” Kagome didn't need Sango and Miroku standing in their doorway doing what would look like to others as some form of spousal abuse. It would make their noisy neighbors talk and she didn't want to hear about it at the monthly tenants meeting.

 

Hojo agreed and showed Sango and Miroku into the living room. It worked. The two quieted down as they took root into the cushions of the darkened green soft leather couch.

 

“Um, anything to drink. We have been ordered to stay away from alcohol, so the choices are water, juice, tea, coffee or a sparkling berry cider.”

 

“Tea sounds wonderful,” Miroku smoothly requested, flashing Kagome a crookedly dashing smile. Hojo nodded in agreement with Miroku's choice.

 

Sango stood up, straightening out her skirt. “I'd love to see your kitchen.”

 

Kagome smiled and motioned for Sango to follow. Sango turned to Miroku and mouthed something to him. Kagome figured it was a warning for him to behave in the presence of their hosts, or something along those lines. This Dr. Miroku seemed to be almost child-like in many of his mannerisms.

 

Miroku watched as the ladies disappeared into the kitchen before turning to Hojo. Right away, his thoughts about the man were right. Sango's description of him was dead on, making it easier for Miroku to try to put himself in Hojo's shoes.

 

“You're a doctor?” Hojo asked, sitting in one of the arm chairs off to the side of the couch, a matching set of forest green hues decorated as Kagome saw fit and in a décor he was comfortable with. Nothing too girlie, like giant flowers.

 

Miroku nodded, resting one arm along the length of the sturdy back of the cushy couch, the other lying comfortably on a bent knee. “Yes, I also work at the clinic. I'm an OB/GYN.”

 

“Really,” he exclaimed, his eyes wide from that little bit of information. Hojo never would've guessed this man to be a woman's doctor.

 

“I believe I will be working with Dr. Takahashi on Kagome's case once the more intrusive fertility methods are employed,” Miroku explained it plainly. He could tell that Inuyasha had yet to get that far in their treatments. Oh well, he figured, at least they'll know now instead of much later.

 

Hojo slowly rocked his head, as if he head heard what Miroku said, but it wasn't settling. “Well, Kagome will be glad you came then.”

 

Miroku glanced over in the direction of the kitchen. “I too am glad that I was invited. Kagome is a gorgeous woman. Very nice indeed.”

 

“Yes, she is. She works out, eats healthy,” Hojo explained, not catching Miroku's double meaning.

 

Miroku lightly chuckled. “Yes, well, that's an added bonus. I like women because they are complex and fierce creatures. Kagome seems to be just that.”

 

“Not really. Our lives are very simple.”

 

“I don't believe that for one moment.” Miroku angled his body so that it faced Hojo. “Kagome is a woman full of life, which comes with wants, needs and desires to be fulfilled. I work with women. Women are my patients. I tend to believe that I know a little something about them. And Kagome . . . she's vocal, isn't she?”

 

Hojo shifted around in the leather of his seat. “Vocal?” he asked innocently, his eyes never leaving Miroku's.

 

“Yes, vocal.” He glanced back towards the direction of the girls. “Especially in the bedroom.” His eyes lingered in that direction for some time, his mouth parting, the pink appendage in his mouth darting out, licking his hungry lips.

 

Hojo coughed at Miroku's blunt and totally inappropriate remark. “I-I . . . Look, I'm sorry, but my relationship with Kagome is not to be discussed with you.”

 

“Sorry. I apologize for intruding into your activities. I find that I can't always help myself. I do find that knowing my patients as intimately as possible allows me to better help them.”

 

“What Kagome and I do in the bedroom is satisfactory for both of us. I see no reason for Kagome to seek out help.”

 

Satisfactory. Miroku winced at the word. And only in the bedroom. Oh the humanity, and all species of demons as well. Whatever, this was bad. Very, very bad. No bedroom experiences should be accepted as satisfactory, ever. Miroku had worked with hundreds of women, and a majority of them never wanted to ever settle for satisfactory, only seeking something better.

 

xxxxx-----xxx-----xxxxx

 

“Wow, Kagome . . . “Sango started as she took in the sight that was Kagome's kitchen.

 

“Uh, green tea okay. If not, I've got black, brown, some flavored stuff.”

 

“No, green is good.” Sango couldn't believe her eyes. Kagome's kitchen was clean, but the counters were covered with edible delights that caused Sango to drool at the mere sight of such eats. Was this what they were going to be served with? Her belly could hardly wait.

 

Kagome warmed up the water as she put the finishing touches on the evening's appetizer. Sango quietly watched as Kagome hummed some unknown tune while pouring some tomato mixture on top of what looked to be pieces of toasted bread. This was Kagome in her element, doing what she loved and what she did best.

 

“What is that?” Sango had to ask, not wanting to wait to be told what she would most definitely be eating later.

 

“What? Oh, this?” Kagome settled pieces of mozzarella cheese over the tomato mixture. “Appetizer. It's, uh, a tomato bruschetta. I apologize to you ahead of time if it doesn't taste good. Normally, I like to practice and taste my recipes before making others eat it.”

 

After Kagome slipped the baking sheet into the oven, she readied the tea for the two men in the living room. She couldn't help but wonder about Inuyasha. Sango said he had to work, and if Hojo was her example of working on Fridays, Inuyasha might not make it.

 

“Will you carry this for me?” Kagome asked handing Sango a black lacquered tray with the ceramic tea kettle and cups neatly placed on it, along with sugar cubes, a jar that most likely contained honey, a tiny jug of milk and lemon slices. Sango was impressed with her attention to detail. This was both a good thing as well as a bad thing. Kagome would follow Inuyasha's instructions down to the dotted i's. But, she would never talk about her real fears because Kagome was one that only wanted to please others, even at her own sacrifice.

 

“Are we getting along?” Kagome teased as she brought out the crispy, steamy appetizers, followed by Sango with the tray of tea.

 

“Just lovingly,” Miroku commented, reaching out to take the tray from Sango, which she refused. “Ah, Kagome,” Miroku started as he got his first look at everything. “Sango said you were a chef, not an artist.” His eyes glazed over at the sight of the steam rising off of the melted white cheese tops of the tomato bruschetta appetizers.

 

Kagome blushed, and then giggled it off. “Looks and tastes are separate matters. However, comments are always appreciated,” and with that said, she urged everyone to taste the first of many flavors she had planned for the evening.

 

“Kagome, this is . . . “Sango stuck out her tongue to pluck a loose chunk of tomato from her lips. “Wow.”

 

Hojo nodded in agreement. “Another one for the recipe books.”

 

“The taste far exceeds the looks,” Miroku quickly uttered before stuffing the entire piece into his mouth.

 

“Good. I'm glad.” Kagome blushed at the attention. Moving over to Hojo, she bent down to tell him something. “I'll be in the kitchen for a few more minutes.”

 

“Okay,” he replied, reaching out for another bruschetta to snack on.

 

Kagome left the three to chat and snack on cheesy tomatoes while she headed into the kitchen to finish up the rest of the evening's meal. The table was already set with the proper utensils and plates, as well as a bouquet of fresh spring flowers and candles that matched the color and scent of the flowers.

 

As she was shaking up the bottle of salad dressing, the doorbell rang. Setting the bottle down, she quickly wiped her hands on a kitchen rag as she yelled out an `I got it' to those sitting in the living room, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

 

“Good evening Dr. Takahashi.” Kagome nervously beamed at the sight of her doctor standing there in a leather jacket, though still dressed in the work clothes for the day. He did not fail to make it look more casual by pulling out the hem of his crisp, white button shirt and letting his silver hair flow freely without the constraints of a tie or braid. She stepped aside, allowing him entrance before closing the door behind him. “I can take your coat if you'd like.”

 

“Sure, thanks.” Inuyasha slipped out of his jacket and handed it to her. “Are Sango and Miroku already here?”

 

Kagome opened the coat closet and pulled out an empty hanger. “Yes, they are in the living room with Hojo right now.” As Kagome put the coat on the hanger, she found herself curious about the scent of the jacket. Did it smell like him? A combination of manly, eh, hanyou musk, cologne and his sweat? She was too embarrassed to find out; worried that he might catch her. As a human, she wasn't supposed to go around sniffing other's belongings. That was left to dogs and other animals that sniffed.

 

“This way Dr. Takahashi,” she said with a faint smile on her face.

 

“Kagome, you can call me Inuyasha.”

 

“Okay,” she lied. She couldn't. The title doctor would serve to remind her that he was just that, her doctor. And that even though she fantasized about him, Sango's warning buzzed violently and as bright as a neon sign in her mind. To call him by his first name would be a step into that fantasy, and she was afraid of getting more than her foot stuck.

 

“Ah, Inuyasha has arrived,” Miroku proclaimed as he munched as his piece of appetizer.

 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Kagome offered as she checked on the tea, which was still okay.

 

“Kagome, I'll have that cider you offered earlier,” Sango spoke up form her place next to Miroku.

 

“Whatever is fine,” Inuyasha spoke as he sat down in the empty armchair across from Hojo.

 

Kagome grinned as she turned and headed back into the kitchen to fulfill that order. Sango pushed the tray of tomato bruschetta towards Inuyasha. Miroku stopped her and snagged two more pieces off for himself.

 

“You have to try these,” Sango said as she plucked off one for herself.

 

“So, Inuyasha, a busy Friday isn't like you.”

 

Inuyasha looked up at Miroku as he leaned over to reach for one of these bruschetta things he just had to try. “Keh, that and traffic.”

 

“Well, we are glad that you could make it,” Hojo said with a half-smile on his face. “Kagome has really worked hard on this.”

 

Just then, Kagome returned with another tray of drinks. Five lily-shaped flutes filled with a remarkable looking liquid, a cool lavalamp of bubbling beiges, pinks and oranges. Kagome passed one out to everyone since she wanted them to try it, whether they wanted to or not. What she wasn't telling them would hopefully allow for truthful and helpful comments.

 

“Kagome, what is this?” Hojo asked as his brown eyes narrowed and scrutinized the colors and bubbles of the nameless liquid. “And what's this . . . object . . . is it stuck at the bottom?”

 

Kagome frowned at the knotted string of questions Hojo threw out at her. She found it slightly rude, especially in front of guests. Now they would be hesitant to try out her new recipe. So much for those helpful comments she depended on to better her culinary skills.

 

Inuyasha noticed the change in Kagome's demeanor. At first, she was excited to serve the unknown beverage to them, standing tall, proud and with one of those smiles he preferred. Now, she frowned, shoulders slacked and he could sense many negative emotions; annoyance, fear, and she was really nervous.

 

“Oi,” Inuyasha called out. Kagome snapped her head towards him, shocked at his sudden outburst. She was surprised to see him holding out the glass at her, empty.

 

“Uh, more?” She asked, stunned at his bold gesture, her shaking hand reaching out for the glass. Inuyasha nodded his head, letting out a small grunt. “Okay, uh, if you're all ready, we can move this into the dining room.”

 

Everyone silently agreed with that idea, since it held promise of more food. They moved into the dining room while Kagome was in the kitchen readying not only more of the berry spritzer drink, but the start of the meal; basically more food. And if the appetizer was of any indication, only good things were to come, bringing a smile onto her face once again.

 

Calm down.

 

Must calm down, Kagome instructed herself as she gripped the edge of the tiled countertop, her fingertips red, and her knuckles white. It took several deep breaths before she was able to function again. Why was she in the kitchen again? Why did she feel so hot, flushed? What was wrong with her?

 

Was it . . . was this . . . could it be . . . Inuyasha?

 

She shook her head, trying to shake him out of it. This was just some silly, high school - no - junior high crush. Hojo was her one true love, the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, the one who will very soon be the father of their child. There wasn't time for her to gush and flutter about so carelessly. It was childish, foolish.

 

It would only lead to unnecessary trouble. The exact kind she wanted to and needed to avoid. During her mental berating, Kagome put together the salad she intended to serve, tossing the sensitive ingredients harsher than she should have. She couldn't believe she was letting it bother her this much.

 

When she determined satisfactorily that her mind was stable enough to face her distractingly handsome guest, everything was ready for them. Kagome reemerged from the kitchen into the dining room, smiling as brightly as she could. No one could ever know. She hoped that if she ignored it, the problem (if she could even call it that) would go away on its own.

 

“Kagome, I'm already impressed,” Sango said as Kagome approached the table. “You really didn't have to do all of this just for us.”

 

Sango was referring to the table settings. Setting in front of everything was the chocolate stained rectangular table striped with a white cotton table runner. The five place settings had been set with bright sky blue placemats. The dinnerware was white with an intricate design in stark black. On top of the oval shaped plates were bright yellow salad bowls, looking more like a child's rendition of a sun. The correct silverware was placed, salad and dinner fork placed to the left, the knife, serrated edge facing the plate and spoon to the right.

 

“She's right Kagome. For Sango, take-out is gourmet,” Miroku poked fun at the woman sitting next to him.

 

Sango scowled at the smug boy, secretly preparing ways to torture him later on. Her use of force earlier was uncalled for it front of people who weren't used to their real personalities. Well, at least Miroku's.

 

But she wasn't going to let that be the last word. “As long as the delivery boy is cute.”

 

Kagome sat down a giant bowl of salad onto the table next to Sango. Then she gave Inuyasha his refilled glass of the spritzer beverage, not taking immediate notice of where he sat. Instead, she focused on having everything she needed for the salad. Tongs in the serving bowl, dressings, croutons and grated cheeses.

 

“Help yourselves. I have several types of dressing here since I didn't know your preferences. The one with the blue cap is shallot-balsamic dressing, the red cap is a simple garlic-oil dressing, the green one is a Japanese ginger dressing and the yellow cap is just regular Italian.”

 

“Did you make all of these yourself?” Miroku asked as he eyed the bottles, trying to pick one out to test. They all looked tasty.

 

“Yes I did.” Kagome sat down in the empty chair, the one in between Hojo and Inuyasha, with her sitting directly next to Inuyasha as Hojo took his seat at the head of the table. She blushed when she caught him, Inuyasha, looking at her as she reached out to unfold her napkin, setting it carefully onto her lap.

 

“Kagome, this is fantastic,” Sango gushed as she munched through the grilled romaine hearts slathered in warmed oils and herbs. She then turned to Inuyasha and pointed her fork at him. “Why can't you get the cafeteria to serve food like this? Stuff that actually tastes like it's supposed to.”

 

Inuyasha came to the dinner with one goal for the evening: keep his mouth shut. And he was going to.

 

Miroku had to jump onto this. “Just imagine it. Good food, and we could see the lovely Kagome all of the time. Mmmm, what do you think, Inuyasha? It would be better than eating ramen consistently for every meal of everyday. Hey, let's ask Kagome.”

 

“Mmmm?” Kagome mumbled as she munched on her salad. She hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation, more worried about how the salad came out then to small talk. It tasted fine to her, but that didn't mean the others would find it as delicious.

 

“Is ramen considered a food group?” Miroku asked in a very serious tone, only to mock the inu-hanyou. “Though it may be different for demons, or as Inuyasha is a hanyou.”

 

“Uh,” Kagome stuttered, trying to get her grip on the conversation. She looked over at Inuyasha since this conversation was suddenly about him. His eyes were closed, his head titled down and he was gripping his fork tighter than he needed to. “For demons and some hanyous, depending on their heritage, protein is the most basic need to sustain the energies of their bodies. As with our bodies as well, we can convert proteins into carbohydrates, a reason why we must watch our carb intake.” Kagome had taken some demon biology classes in college so she could better help them when it came to nutrients. And she kept up on it with magazine subscriptions to nutrition journals.

 

“So, as long as he adds meats, or even certain beans, legumes, to his ramen, he's eating just fine. Unless you want the cafeteria to serve wiggling meat.”

 

“Kagome,” Hojo leaned in to whisper to her. “Not that discussion again.”

 

Kagome nodded, not realizing that two pairs of eyes were scrutinizing everything she and he said or did. Time to change the subject. “As much as I would enjoy running a cafeteria, I'm afraid that if I'm to have this child that we are all working on, then I would have to decline.”

 

Sango and Miroku both sighed disappointedly as dreams of fabulous food at work quickly faded away. So far, the food was beyond their expectations. Even Inuyasha was behaving. He hadn't lashed out at them cussing and ranting on and on, protecting his ramen and its greatness. Instead, he was behaving like a well-trained dog.

 

“So, Kagome, Hojo, how many children are you planning on having? I'll need to know so I can keep my schedule clear for you.” Miroku glanced at Sango, hoping to see some kind of reaction from her about his choice in questioning.

 

Kagome and Hojo looked at each other, surprised by the sudden turn in topic, fumbling with their utensils and their words.

 

“Let's see if we can have one first,” Hojo dryly replied as he dug back into his salad. He felt that this wasn't a proper dinner topic. Dinner topics should include sports, politics, certain advances in health and medicine, not this. These were matters not to be discussed so openly in such a casual setting.

 

Kagome nibbled on her bottom lip as the awkward silence filled the room up. This normally didn't happen. The conversation should be flowing freely. Kagome glanced over at Hojo, taking notice of his furrowed brows. Normally, Hojo didn't get bothered by anything. She found him to be such an easy going guy.

 

Sango and Miroku picked up on the tension between the two. Kagome was willing, maybe even wanting to talk about children while it was very clear that Hojo did not. It wasn't to say that Hojo was changing his mind; it was just that he didn't want to talk about it here and now.

 

Sango turned to Miroku, her mouth agape at the uncomfortable situation, looking for a way out; looking to him for a new conversation topic. Miroku had a penchant for small talk from his years as an OB/GYN, helping to calm the anxious nerves of girls in that position.

 

Miroku gave a nod to Sango, answering her silent plea to help out Kagome. “Tell me Kagome.” Kagome looked up at Miroku, her eyes showing worry at what he would ask of her. “How does one put together a meal like this? The flavors, they all blend together so immaculately.”

 

“Practice, taste-testing and some education, well more like reading and experimenting.” Kagome picked up a tomato from her salad and held it up. “I got the idea of grilling the romaine hearts from grilling and broiling tomatoes.”

 

“It must be a painstaking process,” Miroku commented as he ate his grilled lettuce and tomatoes.

 

“It was, but now, a lot of that part of the cooking process is taught as a basic class for culinary students, especially matching herbs and spices.”

 

“Keh,” Inuyasha interjected, gently pushing his empty plate of salad away from him. The others looked over at him as he had remained particularly quiet this whole time. “It's why I like ramen. It's tasty and universal.”

 

Kagome giggled, setting down her fork instead of stuffing her mouth with food so she could comment. “You're right you know. Especially ramen noodles. I probably have a couple hundred recipes that involve ramen noodles.”

 

“Careful Kagome. Inuyasha may ask for your payment to have you prepare every ramen recipe you have,” Sango playfully warned both the chef and the fertility doctor.

 

“Keh.”

 

“Come now Inuyasha,” Miroku smirked at the hanyou. “Other than dessert, it is the only meal you eat, and the money you receive for your services partially supports your ramen obsession.”

 

“An inu-hanyou has to eat.”

 

xxxxx-----xxx-----xxxxx

 

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roshully's End of the Chapter Corner:

An abrupt ending because I wasn't sure where to stop and what I had written out didn't really have a good stopping point. So, the appetizer and salad were presented here and the next chapter will hopefully finish up the supper. Why am I writing about this? You'll see. I do hope you'll put up with the mundane for a moment.