Author's Note: Because this story has been on the brain since the Shima "Financee" arc came out, and the fact that Sango eventually stops slapping Miroku tends to go unnoticed sometimes. Enjoy!

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Retribution

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Miroku couldn't get away with anything.

In the months since he'd met Inuyasha, Kagome and Shippou, his freedom to act as he desired had been challenged. Such was the risk of traveling with people whose interests did not always coincide with his own. When Sango joined their number, he had soon found his liberties even further compromised.

There had been some manner of trade off, of course. Despite the burden that weighed heavily on her shoulders, Sango was a strong, fiery woman, and Miroku had found her alluring from the start. If ever there were a woman who could tempt his self-control, Sango would be the one. The sentiments that had risen between them along the way had done little to help his dilemma, as Sango was not one to hide her disapproval of his habits and did much to discourage it.

It was even worse now.

Miroku had long known it was merely a matter of time before he capitulated and acknowledged the relationship growing between himself and the demon slayer. He could hardly ignore it despite every effort he made to the contrary. Miroku had never intended to reveal the tenderness he felt for her so soon, but revealed it he had. Now, fortune permitting, they were to be wedded upon Naraku's death.

Words could not express the elation he had felt at Sango's acceptance of his suit. Of all of the things he could ask for in a woman, she was everything and more.

The problem was her jealousy. Sango wasn't much inclined to share him. At all.

She monitored him closely. Every time they approached a village, Miroku could feel her eyes on him, watching. If he so much as approached a member of the fairer sex, it was only a manner of time before Sango was dragging him off by the scruff of the neck or making her displeasure known with the blunt end of Hiraikotsu.

Honestly, it wasn't anything Miroku hadn't expected. He had known from the start that Sango desired his undivided attentions, and she wasn't one to settle for anything less. On the other hand, stepping from habits that had been allowed many years to take root straight into complete chastity… that was another matter entirely.

Miroku sighed, breaking from his thoughts as he placed a final ofuda on the wall of the house, running his palm over the paper charm to smooth away the creases.

"That should do it," he said, turning towards the retainer that had accompanied his journey around the grounds. "Already the ominous aura I sensed upon my arrival is dissipating. It should be completely vanished by morning."

The elderly man looked practically overcome with relief, and he bowed deeply. "Thank you so much, Houshi-dono. I know the lord of the house will be grateful indeed when he learns of your service upon his return. Please, is there anything more I can do to express our thanks?"

Miroku returned the bow respectfully. "No, no. The accommodations you have provided are quite enough. In fact, I think I would like to retire now, unless you have some other need of my services."

"Right this way, Houshi-dono."

The retainer led him back through the mansion. Rounding a corner, they came into view of the room that had been opened to Miroku and his friends for the night. A smile crept across the monk's face - Sango was outside, seated on the veranda. Deciding he wanted to approach her on his own terms, Miroku turned to the retainer and thanked him again.

"I think I know the way from here," he explained, with another courteous bow. The man raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Bidding him farewell, the servant turned and disappeared the way he had come. When he was gone, Miroku turned his attention fully to Sango.

She glanced at him as he approached, and he resisted the urge to smirk. He had been a little concerned at first that she'd come outside to seek solitude. It had been a trying few weeks and after her recent encounter with Kohaku, he had thought that she might still be saddened by that. However, there was no missing the faint annoyance that lingered on her features. This was something else.

"Oh Sango," he sighed as he grew closer, letting his tone grow teasing as he drew close. "You didn't have to wait up for me. How kind of you to worry about me."

She gave him a droll look. "Inuyasha managed to upset Kagome-chan again," she said, ignoring his goading comment. "I figured I would give them some time to work it out on their own."

"Oh ho," Miroku laughed, coming to sit beside her. He settled carefully - not too close, not to far. "That Inuyasha never learns, does he?"

Sango hummed her agreement, watching him curiously. He did his best to remain unassuming. No need to raise her suspicions. Her countenance shifted to one of amusement. "So, Houshi-sama, were you able to successfully purify the 'ominous cloud' you sensed earlier tonight? No problems, I hope?"

He easily caught the gist of what she was getting at, but feigned innocence regardless. "No, Sango. None at all. It seems to be disappearing quite rapidly."

"How strange," she mused, tapping a finger against her lips. "Neither I nor Kagome-chan could sense anything at all about it… It doesn't feel like anything has changed."

Miroku gave her a sideways glance. "Oh? Just what are you implying Sango?"

Her eyebrows lifted incrementally, and she examined him with open curiosity, dropping the act. "Houshi-sama, you really have no qualms about lying to these people? Don't get me wrong, I don't particularly mind getting to sleep inside for a change, but… sometimes I wonder." Almost unaware, she was leaning closer to him, clearly interested in whatever his answer may be.

He gave her his most striking smile. "Sango, every man has his vices."

To make his point, he slid his hand over and took the opportunity to feel the curve of Sango's bottom. He sighed pleasurably, admiring the way she fit against his palm just so. This, this was the kind of thing he missed, that he couldn't get enough… because she always slapped him away…

Something was wrong.

Miroku's eyes had drifted closed as he took time to enjoy the moment, but he opened them to examine the situation. Yes, his palm was still definitely on Sango's bottom, but her hands weren't even raised to strike him. Rather, they were clasped on her lap. Utterly confused, he looked to her face for some clue as to what was going on.

Sango was staring at him with complete exasperation. "Houshi-sama, I think you have enough vices for several men," she told him wearily.

He blinked, lifting his free hand to rub the back of his neck - there was no way he was going to stop touching her if she was going to let him do so. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"That's all?" he asked, wondering if karmic retribution was merely biding its time.

She pursed her lips. "You're complaining?"

"Hardly!" Miroku exclaimed emphatically. He definitely didn't want to give her the wrong idea. "I'm just curious: why the change of heart? Such a wonderful change of heart…" He gave her bottom another rub, just for good measure.

She looked away, a blush staining her cheeks a lovely shade of pink. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for her next words. "W-well," she stammered, "I just figured, with everything that's happened lately…" She trailed off momentarily, taking a chance to swallow down her nerves. "I thought that, well… if we're promised to marry some day…"

Miroku stared at her, stunned. This was a development he had never even dreamed to expect. "Sango…"

"Please, let me finish." The woman glanced up at him, all nerves, and finally blurted out the rest of what she had to say. "If we're promised, that makes me yours, right? As long as I'm the only one, and you're not flirting around with other women, I… I don't mind as much."

Miroku's jaw dropped. It took him a long minute to gather his thoughts.

"So, it's okay if I touch you then? You don't care?" he pressed, flummoxed but marveling at his luck. Surely this was no dream! If it was, Miroku never wanted to wake up.

Sango sighed, finally shifting away so that his delinquent hand fell from its place on her posterior. "Don't get carried away, Houshi-sama," she chided. "I didn't say I don't care. It's just… a compromise."

Miroku leaned back to study her, evaluating how best to proceed. Sango's cheeks were dark with embarrassment and she was being careful to look anywhere but at him. He found himself a little surprised that she had the resolve to sit here under his scrutiny despite being so blatantly uncomfortable. Surely she was itching to run away and escape this mortifying situation. But, here she was, waiting for him make the next move.

He smirked. Oh, he was definitely making the next move. There was no way he was letting this moment go to waste.

The monk reached over and took hold of Sango's wrist. She started and snapped to face him as he tugged her gently towards him.

"Houshi-sama? What are you doing?" she whispered. He would daresay she looked a little scared.

"Experimenting," Miroku said, unable to keep his grin from widening. "Trust me."

Sango was skeptical, but he felt the moment she finally relented. She let him pull her close with little resistance, but immediately tensed when he threw his arms around her, bringing her against him. But, much to Miroku's satisfaction, she neither tried to leave nor attempted to stop him,.

"A man could get used to this," he mused, tightening his embrace. She stirred, and he thought for a moment that she might pull away. Instead, she shifted towards him, resting her head against his chest and relaxing into him. Just for a second, Miroku felt his breath leave him at the feelings that her simple act stirred.

This woman was full of surprises.

"You like this," Miroku chuckled, enjoying the way he could tell she was blushing again from the heat that radiated against his chest. "And here I was, wondering if maybe you just didn't like being touched!"

She humphed, even as she pressed closer. "Sometimes you have strange ideas about how a woman wants to be touched, Houshi-sama."

"What?" he asked, mischievousness creeping back into his tone. He let his hand drop again, finding its way back down to his favorite part of her body. "Are you talking about this?"

He laughed when he felt Sango's shoulders slump and she sighed heavily, only to have to resist the urge to shiver when her breath hit his neck - did she have any idea what she did to him? He leaned down, carefully resting his cheek against her hair. No, she probably didn't. There was no way she'd still be letting him hold her like this if she did.

"Houshi-sama..."

Sango trailed off when the sound of approaching voices reached their ears. Immediately, she made to pull away. Miroku reluctantly let her go, privately cursing the two servants that appeared and made their way across the open courtyard. Somehow, with this interruption, he knew that the moment was irrevocably over and he would have to wait for some other time to get his hands on Sango.

She was going to be the death of him.

The taijiya climbed to her feet, straightening her clothes self-consciously. Watching her, Miroku wondered if she would ever give him the chance to really muss them up. His eyes glazed over as he took a moment to indulge in a little fantasy. Ah, that would be a wonderful day…

"I'm going to head in," Sango said after the servants disappeared, unknowingly interrupting his little daydream. Miroku let it go with a sigh of regret; chances were, that dream was not going to come true anytime soon.

Then again…

Miroku stood, biting back a grin as a little plan began to take root in his mind. It was risky, but he had been so very lucky already tonight. Maybe he could press it just a little further.

"Sango," he called. She had been about to walk away, but she glanced at him over her shoulder and waited for him to continue.

That was his opening.

He swooped closer, honing on his chance. Before Sango had a chance to get away, his slid his arms around her waist, dragging his fingers purposefully across her stomach as he drew closer. Her breath caught at the touch, and Miroku smirked triumphantly. Not done yet, he leaned in and spoke close to her ear.

"What if I don't want you to leave yet?" he murmured, his voice husky. A shiver ran through her, and he felt his pulse spike.

Then she was twisting in his embrace, moving to face him. Sango looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. Her lips parted, soft and alluring, and Miroku couldn't help but stare. He swallowed involuntarily, feeling his mouth go dry.

Briefly, against all better judgment, he considered kissing her.

And then, suddenly, he was seeing stars as Sango's palm cracked against his cheek. The entire left side of his face was stinging, and Miroku freed her from his embrace to cradle his aching jaw. Sango stepped back, folding her arms and giving him a look of open annoyance.

"I told you not to get carried away," she told him dryly. With a shake of her head, she let her stance drop and turned to the shoji screen that led to their room. Sango hesitated, just for a moment before sliding the door open, and Miroku could have sworn he saw her smile. "Good night, Houshi-sama."

And with that, she slipped inside and out of his sight.

Miroku sighed, doing his best to massage the pain out of his poor cheek - he'd probably have a bruise there in the morning. But, as he reflected on the night's happenings, Miroku couldn't help but feel that he had come out of this little conversation much better off than when it had started, bruise or no bruise. After all, not only had she let him grope her, Sango had most definitely enjoyed his embrace.

However, ridiculously, neither of those things were the cause of the wide, boyishly happy smile that broke across Miroku's face. Just the memory of it, in face of all of the reasons why this was a bad idea, lightened his heart and made him look ever so much more forward to the day Naraku was dead and he was free of the Kazaana's curse.

'She said she's mine.'

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Written for LJ community mirsan-fics, prompt "posession."

(But it's really for Kip.)