Author's Note: Yeah, fluff. You have been warned.

Sango busied herself with juggling the preparations for dinner and caring for the children – for her boisterous twin girls, that meant making sure they kept their hands to themselves and stayed out of trouble. They were not quite two years old and already they were everywhere – thank goodness they had not learned to walk yet or she would be completely overwhelmed.

Dinner was already over and he was still not back yet. The former slayer caught herself continually glancing at the door, waiting for the sound of familiar footsteps. Miroku – her husband now, she thought fondly – had said he would be home that night and apparently it was not in time for dinner. A yawning Haruko fidgeted a little in the background and her mother hushed her, brushing back her fringe lovingly. Both girls had insisted on waiting up for their father and Sango had found it difficult to resist their identical obstinate faces.

"Sssh, Otou-chan will be home soon," Sango whispered.

Emiko, the quieter of the two, was the first to hear him coming. She squealed, suddenly awake, and pushed herself up onto wobbly feet, toddling over to the door; her unsteady legs gave way and she fell forward –

– into a pair of strong arms. "Whoops! Hello, darling," smiled Miroku, sweeping his daughter onto his shoulder. "It's been a long time since I had girls falling for me," he quipped, raising an eyebrow playfully in Sango's direction.

His wife giggled, coming over to give him a welcome kiss, Haruko in tow. "Welcome home, we missed you."

"And I missed my girls." Miroku scooped up his other daughter with his free hand amidst their happy squeals.

Sango picked up his tray of food from the hearth and placed it in front of him. "How was the demon extermination?"

Miroku was busy chuckling as he tickled his daughters and missed the question. When she repeated it, he put them down, letting them crawl off, a suddenly sober look on his face.

"Hmm? Oh, it was fine. Just some rat youkai, nothing major."

"Really?" She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Then why did it take the whole day, Miroku?"

"There were several small nests dotted all over the estate," he said, taking up his chopsticks. "Took me quite a while to find them all and completely rid the house of the demons."

Sango nodded. "I'll put the girls to bed." She slid open the cupboard where the bedding was kept, taking out the futons.

It was a plausible explanation and she knew it – except for the fact she had traveled with Miroku long enough to know when he was lying. It was a good lie, nonetheless, but still a lie.

From the side room as she tucked her daughters in, she watched his profile by the fireplace. A year's marriage and the few more together before that had taught her to trust him; Sango decided to let the lie slip this time and give him the benefit of the doubt. And later, when he slipped into bed beside her with a whispered "Goodnight" in her ear, his hand lingering over her cheek and a soft kiss on her forehead, Sango wanted to believe in him more than ever.

"Sango?"

"Mmm?" She was having a tough time this morning; for some reason, Haruko and Emiko had decided that their clothes were too restrictive and were absolutely refusing to cooperate with their mother's efforts to get them dressed and ready for the day.

He sat cross-legged by the dying embers of the hearth, sipping a cup of tea. "Inuyasha and I have a job in a village in the next province exterminating a plague of centipede youkai. I'll be gone for a few weeks."

Sango glanced up sharply. "You're leaving again so fast? You just got home."

Miroku took a long draught from his cup, setting it down before speaking again. "It's been a good summer this year, Sango. The lesser youkai have been thriving in the bountiful conditions and are a bigger problem than ever." He stood up and brushed off his robes, coming over and snagging a runaway twin by the back of her half-tied kimono. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She did not miss the way he refused to meet her eyes.

The former slayer tied a fast knot in the other twin's obi and sat back, her eyes following his fingers as they deftly knotted his squirming prisoner's obi and released her with a gentle slap to her butt. Haruko and Emiko reluctantly left their clothes alone, finding the knots too difficult to pick apart, and crawled off to some corner of the house to find more mischief to get into.

"I know," Sango said eventually, turning to him. He was wearing a despondent look which she found near impossible to refuse anything to. "Just... I thought we could spend more time together."

Miroku smirked, knowing he was forgiven. "We as in you and the girls or just you?" His hand slipped down to her ass, giving it a playful caress. Sango swatted it away.

"Pervert. You know what I mean."

He laughed and bent his head to kiss her – when they were interrupted by a loud voice outside.

"Oi, Miroku! You ready?"

The monk sighed. "Yes, Inuyasha. I'll be out in a short while."

He took up his shakujou from where it leaned against the doorframe and stood on the threshold, casting one last long look at Sango before disappearing outside.

She remained seated there long after Miroku was gone, oblivious to the giggles of her daughters from the next room and the ominous sound of tearing fabric.

Miroku returned a month later in the dead of the night, a bandage wrapped around his left forearm. Roused from sleep, Sango rushed over to meet him in her sleeping kosode, snatching up the old box of medical supplies Kagome left behind as she went.

"What happened?"

"The weasel youkai made a desperate attempt at me and Inuyasha couldn't get it in time," he said, wincing a little as she pried off the old bandage. "I was knocked against a hut. It didn't break the skin but Inuyasha thought it was best to treat it with some of Kagome-sama's miracle ointment."

Sango looked up from the wooden basin of water she was rinsing some rags in. "Weasel? I thought you said you two were exterminating centipede youkai?"

A stricken look flashed over his features for an instant – quickly replaced by his usual genial look. "That's right – centipede. I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere."

She pulled off the bandage and examined it. The bruise was long and nasty, the flesh grotesquely swollen. Sango gently prodded it with a finger, drawing a hiss of pain from Miroku.

"No bones broken," she said, cleaning the bruise carefully. "But that's a nasty bruise, Miroku."

"I know." She squeezed a liberal amount of ointment from the tube and gently began rubbing it into his arm. Mindful not to cause him any more pain than absolutely necessary, she slowly worked her fingers into the area and the muscle around it, feeling his body relax under her touch. It was a while before Sango fastened a new bandage around it.

"You have to take proper care of yourself," she scolded him, only half-joking. "Youkai are tricky – you know that as well as I do."

Miroku chuckled and patted her hand with his free one. His ungloved right hand still felt strange against her skin, despite being close to two years since it was discarded and stored in a corner of the house along with her taijiya suit and Hiraikotsu.

"I know. It's not the same when you're not there with me, Inuyasha is simply no substitute. For one, he doesn't have an ass as fine as yours..."

Sango rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. The one thing that never changed about him was his sense of humour – lecherous, as always.

"Where are the girls?" he asked. "It's been a while since I last saw them, normally they'd be crawling all over me, no matter what time of day it is."

She smiled ruefully. "Haruko and Emiko are sleeping. They're exhausted – they've been with Shippou and Kaede-sama the whole day." Sango closed the medical chest with a snap. "They learned to walk while you were gone."

A disappointed look appeared on his face. "I missed that."

Scooting over, Sango rested her head against the shoulder of his uninjured arm and planted a shy kiss on his cheek. A smile touched his features.

When the pattern went on for a few more months – within which time he had been home for a total of a mere two weeks – Sango finally lost her patience.

Miroku returned home, exhausted and covered with dust, to an mostly empty, cold home, Sango sat by the hearth with her back to him.

"I asked Kaede-sama to take care of the girls for tonight," she said, anticipating his question.

He sighed heavily and beat the dust from his robes. "Sango, what's wrong?"

"I should be asking you that," she hissed, whirling on him as quick as lightning. The smile he had on slowly faded away. "What have you been hiding from me, Houshi-sama?"

He flinched at the old title; Miroku thought it had been retired with their marriage. Her use of it was calculated to hurt deeply and it had succeeded.

"I... I'm not hiding anything from you, Sango."

"Don't lie." To his horror, her voice was on the verge of breaking. "We've been together for so long, you think I don't know when you're lying? You've been so secretive these past few months."

Her shoulders slumped. "It's me, isn't it? You're tired of me – you can't bear the sight of me any longer."

Miroku moved forward abruptly and gripped her shoulders hard. "Sango, I can't believe you would even think that. We're married now. I promised you I would never as much as look at another woman."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"Sango, look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her head to stare back defiantly at him; unshed tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes. Miroku's eyes were intense violet in comparison. No longer guarded, they seemed deep enough for her to lose herself in.

"I might not have been completely honest with you all this while but I swear to you, Sango, there has been no other woman in my life but you since that day by the river."

Sango felt a weight lift from her heart instantly but one little doubt lingered. "I believe you... Miroku. But what have you been doing? I know you haven't been as busy with exterminations as you said you are."

"How did you know?"

"Your robes are clean, cleaner than from the time we were hunting for Naraku. There's hardly any sweat nor youkai blood in them."

Miroku sighed. "Very astute – I should have known better than to keep this from you."

"Tell me the truth about what's been going on," his wife demanded in a quieter voice, refusing to be distracted.

He smiled a genuine smile which spread across his face – once she had not seen in a while. "Why don't I show you?"

Sango stood on a familiar hilltop overlooking the village she grew up in; the gently sloping meadow dotted with wildflowers where she had used to spend her childhood days frolicking with Kirara, and later Kohaku.

But the taijiya village below was not as she remembered it from her younger days, nor was it the sad ruin which Naraku left it in; it was a curious cross in between. The wreckage had been cleared, huts repaired, weeds choking the paths pulled out, the crumbling palisade wall rebuilt. A modest shrine stood sentinel over the graves of her people.

"I've been working on it ever since we got married – then took a break when the girls were born. The cleaning up was the easy part," said Miroku's voice from her side. "But the rebuilding of the huts and walls took a lot of work – a good thing Inuyasha was willing to help. Kohaku's been helping too, whenever he had the time to come back. That bruise – " he rolled up his sleeve to show her the now unblemished patch of skin, " – was from a falling beam."

"But – what motive could you possibly have for wanting to keep it a secret from me?"

He smiled, his hand stealing into hers. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I know how much you love this place and how you've said you've always wanted to rebuild it. And after all, aren't we going to move back here someday?"

Sango's head jerked up. "Move back here? With the girls?"

"Of course, my silly Sango. Did you think we were going to live in Kaede's village forever? From what I see, the girls take after you and they'll need to be trained in the taijiya tradition in the taijiya village."

A large lump in her throat prevented her from saying anything else.

Her husband glanced anxiously at her. "It's alright, isn't it? I'm not really sure about how the village used to look – Kohaku couldn't remember very much – and I know my carpentry skills aren't exactly the best – "

She flung her arms around his neck and drew him into a bone-crushing hug, effectively silencing him.

All the months of hard work, blood and sweat became worth it as Miroku's arms came up around his wife, feeling her hot tears of joy on his skin and the choked, whispered "Thank you, Miroku" in his ear.