A/N: Please have mercy on me, this really wasn't my idea. But my fingers have a mind of their own with this fic. Honest to God, I never intended on there being a sex scene in this - my idea was about a feature of Kagome that John was both disgusted with and was afraid of.

Now, this is my first sexual scene, so if you have to criticise it, please only leave constructive criticism, even though I'll probably never do one again. And I realise that Kagome may not necessarily do the things I make her do, but may I remind you that this is my version of her and she is a bit darker. She has just been - as she sees it - betrayed and possibly abandoned. So, feel free to enjoy it if you wish….

BP

Chapter 1: Betrayal?

John frowned disapprovingly at the sight in front of him. Sherlock looked part impressed, part curious. Kagome was looking at them both startled, the scalpel poised, hanging in the air. Blood dripped onto the floor from the table and paper was piled in one corner of the little room. Another table was laid out with more pieces of paper on it, only these weren't blank. They had pictures on them - of anything and everything. All done in blood.

"Kagome." John started lowly, then seemed to stop for a second, almost at a loss for what to say. Finally, he settled for, "What the hell are you doing?" And despite the seriousness of the situation, John couldn't stop cracking an internal smile at Kagome's very familiar 'stupid-question' look. Even when her hands were covered in blood. The man underneath her scoffed at his question. Kagome's expression turned ice-cold as her head turned so she could glare at her prisoner, eyes promising more pain later. He gulped.

"Sherlock knows." She said, turning back to John and Sherlock. Sherlock rose an eyebrow. She immediately amended her statement. "Well, he does subconsciously - his instinct is sharp." Her smirk was just as sharp. "Instinct approves." She noted. John's frown deepened.

"Yes, I can see what you are doing. Why are you doing it?" Kagome rolled her eyes and set down the scalpel in a tray of sterilised water, starting to stain it pink. She sent her prisoner a look.

"You get reprieve - for now." He sighed in relief, closing his eyes. Kagome came towards them, utterly serious. "Do you really want to know?" John nodded resolutely. She sighed, inspecting the blood on her hands, rubbing it in places. "He dared to attack you two the other week, remember? Well, I didn't take too kindly to that, as you can imagine." Sherlock rose an eyebrow.

"So you took him two weeks after the event?" He frowned. That made no sense. Kagome's eyes half closed and a small smile appeared on her face.

"No, I researched him and destroyed all of his escapes, all of the people who could miss him." She shrugged. "It wasn't hard. Then I lured him in a week and a half ago." She grinned viciously. "I've been spending every other night with him." Then she frowned thoughtfully, glancing back at the man on the table. "I just can't figure out how I want the bastard to die." She focused on the two men in front of her again, only to find them both with eyebrows raised.

"You're doing all of this…" John stuttered. "Because he attacked us the other week?" Kagome looked confused, but nodded.

"Of course." Sherlock understood completely, understanding her nature on an intellectual level and he turned to John to see his jaw clenching. Oh dear. John was a doctor, first and foremost. The idea of torture would never sit well with him.

"How could you even think of doing this?" John asked, angry now. "This isn't even humane!" Kagome's eyes narrowed, utterly insulted. Yes, it was obvious that he didn't understand, but that didn't diminish the hurt any. Her lips lifted in a snarl that rebounded off of the walls threateningly, her eyes beginning to turn silver.

"I'm not human!" The shout echoed in the room, silencing everything. Even John had his eyes wide open, having never been on this side of Kagome's anger. She sighed and forced the silver out of her eyes. She purified the blood from her hands and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her closed eyes. "I'm not human." She repeated quietly. "I don't think like one, I don't act like one and I don't age like one. Why, then, would I be constricted by the morals and useless social conventions of a human?"

"But…" But John was interrupted.

"But nothing." Kagome said coldly. She opened her eyes and they both could've gasped at the iciness in them. "And if you can't accept that," She continued, turning and walking back to her prisoner. "Then maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore." She picked up her scalpel and was about to put it to the man's skin when she paused. They were still there, watching her. A growl started low in her throat. The scalpel flew through the air, just missing John's shoulder. "Get. Out." She hissed, glaring at them both. John, startled, left. Sherlock followed, but he looked back for just a moment. Kagome wasn't watching them leave, but he knew why when a tear trailed into view, dropping off of her skin.

Looks like he was going to be the one sitting on a fence, understanding Kagome's reasoning, but his long friendship with John… He scowled behind John's back. This was why he'd never intended on having friends. Or after he'd gotten one, gaining another.

Problem was, that if John couldn't accept Kagome's protective nature, with a bloodthirsty taste to it… then there would be no more Kagome, he just knew it. It wasn't even her fault either - instinct was hard to ignore, especially with hers so close to the surface.

Meanwhile, back at the little room, Kagome sat down heavily after collecting her scalpel. Her prisoner opened his eyes and took in her tear-filled eyes and her troubled expression. He was a hanyou, and understood why she was doing what she was doing, and sympathised with her for having a companion that didn't understand her vicious need to protect.

"I'm sorry." Her eyes shot to his face in surprise, wondering why he was apologising to her. "I didn't mean to ruin you and your pack's relationship." Kagome laughed bitterly.

"No, perhaps it's better they know. I know that Sherlock understands and accepts what I do, but John…" Her voice hitched and she shook her head. "He doesn't understand at all." She fought not to break into tears. She looked down at the scalpel with blurring eyes. Frustrated, she threw it elsewhere and wiped angrily at her eyes. She looked at her prisoner and sighed. "I'm not even in the mood to do anything to you now." He smiled softly.

"I understand. It can be hard to protect those who reject you after all you do to make sure they're safe." He was right. The pressure her instinct to protect had been placing on her was gone. The urge to kill the person that had dared to threaten her pack was gone. It was replaced by a burning misery and a feeling of loneliness.

She looked over the ropes keeping the hanyou male stretched out on the table. Now that the need to kill him in the most painful way possible was gone, she saw no reason to keep him there. She untied the ropes from his ankles and hands, ignoring his look of unsurprised surprise. Then she gestured for him to get off the table and handed him his clothes and gestured to the door. "Feel free to leave." God, was that her voice? It sounded so… flat. She had turned away to re-collect the scalpel when she felt a touch on her arm. It was the hanyou, with a look of concern on his expressive features.

"Will you be okay?" He asked, looking into her eyes. She nodded.

"As well as I can be, I suppose." Still, her voice lacked inflection. He looked her over once and then leaned closer. She almost frowned in confusion, but didn't get the chance as her lips were suddenly occupied. Her mind went to John, but dismissed him when the image of his face when he realised what she was doing and why cropped up. If he couldn't accept her, then there was no relationship. With this in mind, she reciprocated. The passion built quickly and soon the male was kissing his way down her neck, listening to her moans and whimpers. He reclaimed her mouth and one hand went to the back of her neck while the other slid underneath her shirt, sliding sensuously against her torso.

Kagome shuddered against this male that she'd just been torturing for a week and a half - her mind suddenly protested. What the hell was she doing? But reason was beaten back by her primal instinct for comfort via touch. Suddenly he wasn't close enough, clothes were in the way and why didn't this room have a bed? No matter, they were both accustomed to blood-filled areas and completing the act on the blood-stained table wouldn't be a problem. She didn't have any blankets here either, as she made sure the room was kept warm enough for her not to feel even chilled, no matter what she was wearing.

John's silent refusal to accept her, as well as his ungratefulness, hurt. And for some reason, the hanyou in front of her knew how she felt. She panted as she undid the shirt he'd just put on, groaning at the feel of the hard muscles underneath, rippling with her touch. She felt along the smooth skin of his back, raking her nails along the sensitive area at the small of his back. She relished in his groan and he retaliated by rubbing firmly down her spine. It relaxed her completely and she leant against him, letting him support her weight. He did so easily and spun her round so her back was against his bare chest.

Her hands rose of their own volition, one circling his left shoulder and the other cupping the skin on the back of his neck, tickling the hairs there. His mouth went back to her throat, nipping and licking his way down to her shoulder. She hissed and rubbed her hips against him, feeling the evidence of his desire and hearing his sharp intake of breath as she did so. She ground against him firmly and hardly knew what had happened before she was lifted onto the table and stripped of all of her clothes.

Winded, she almost laughed before she saw the hungry expression on the hanyou's face, rendering her silent. Then she looked down and her own breath hitched. Sure, she had seen him naked before, but she was in a different frame of mind then, one very different to the one she was in now. Desire clouded her instincts and she tugged him above her. A wicked smile curved her lips.

"You are so lucky." She said, licking her lips. A smirk of his own lifted his lips.

"And why's that?" He asked before leaning down and licking a trail to her left breast. She arched her back as she replied.

"I don't usually let someone top me the first time." Gasping, she drew his lips back to her own. As they explored each other's mouths, his hands wandered, one of them reaching the apex of her thighs, making her break their kiss with a gasp, her head tipping back. He grinned as she just couldn't seem to get her breath back. Finally, she let out a low, drawn-out groan.

"Enjoying yourself?" He rose an eyebrow, just for effect. She glared at him half-heartedly.

When he finally entered her, she was a shuddering, panting, sweating mess. A flush was across her cheeks and her eyes were glazed with pleasure, her mind having completely forgotten the incident that had occurred less than forty minutes ago.

She growled as he began to move - too slow. Much too slow. He held her down, refusing to let her make him speed up, though he was tempted when she squeezed him, making his hips stutter once before regaining their slow rhythm. He hissed through his teeth, the slow pace torture for him as much as it was for her.

Eventually, Kagome had had enough, and flipped them around with strength that her hanyou lover wasn't expecting. She bit at his collarbone, earning an aroused growl. Smirking, she rose her hips slowly before slamming down on him, relishing in his small cry, his eyes pinched shut and chest heaving, trying to calm himself down, to bring himself back from the very edge. Kagome was unwilling to give him a break to regain his self-control, and repeated her motions, setting a fast pace.

The room echoed with the eager and passionate sounds that both Kagome and the male she rutted with made. With the pace that Kagome had set, it wasn't a surprise when they finished quickly with unintelligible cries.

When they got their breath back enough to speak, he said, "So much for letting me go on top." Kagome giggled and swatted at his chest.

"It wasn't my fault you were going too slowly." He grinned wickedly.

"I assure you that it was torture for me too." Then they both burst out laughing, sweating and covered in blood, the context not lost on either of them. They calmed down fairly quickly and put their clothes back on. Kagome nodded at the hanyou, smiling slightly. They knew they'd never see each other again, and he knew to never strike at Sherlock and John again.

Then, when he was gone, she purified the whole room of the blood and searched for her scalpel. It was near a wall and looked like it needed a good clean, but she could do that later. She put it lovingly back in it's case, along with her other 'unpleasant' instruments.

Her way back to Baker Street was calm, and filled with a kind of contentment that she didn't always feel. Walking up the seventeen steps was something that she did without thinking and she walked into the kitchen and out the kettle on. The room was dark, but she didn't mind, knowing that Sherlock was laying on the couch, most likely awake anyway. John was upstairs, asleep, but not having good dreams, if the feel of them was any indication. She frowned, disturbed when nothing tugged at her to stop his distress. Did her instincts suddenly not like him or something?

"Sherlock?" No reply, but she did hear him moving on the couch, could almost see him turning around and lifting his head up to see her. "How was John…" Her voice cracked. "How was John when he got home?"

Silence. And then, "Angry. Upset." He paused. "Afraid." She froze, not wanting to breath for a moment. Afraid? But… I would never harm him. "Barely said a word to me all evening." She turned her head slowly to look in his direction, unable to see his facial expression. She took a deep breath.

"And you, Sherlock? What about you?" There was no silence this time, no pauses.

"I understand completely. Your nature demands that you protect what's yours." There was a smirk. "One would have thought that John would have been grateful."

"Then why wasn't he?" She snapped, unable to control herself.

"John's a doctor. Torture will never sit well with him, especially for what he deems to be insignificant." She laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, well. He's getting his wish." She said, not happy about it.

"What?" She smiled tightly.

"Thanks to his response, something that my instincts took as a betrayal, all desire to kill and harm the one that attacked you went. There was no tug anymore." She shrugged casually, despite the detachedness in her tone that was strangely mixed with fury. The kettle clicked, but she wasn't in the mood for tea anymore. She snorted. "Guess he's on his own now."

"Kagome." Sherlock said, sounding a bit unsure. "What are you going to do?" She felt her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I'm going to give as good as I got." She says darkly before grabbing her coat and stalking out of the flat, making her way back to her apartment.

A/N: Well that was longer than I expected it to be, but needs must, I suppose... By the way, this will be a three chapter story and I hope you'll enjoy it!

BP