More note… type… things…

1: You know, eventually I'll run out of ways to introduce these, and then what'll you do?

2: On a bit of a heavier note, my friend is still in rehab, but is doing better, and should be back in school soon. It's been a really hard couple of days, but I got this out, and all is right in the world.

3: Inuyasha, Inuyasha… hmm… Inuyasha… I don't remember buying him, so I guess I didn't. (Eventually I'm going to run out of creative disclaimers, too, and then I'll have to go with something boring. That would suck.)

4: The beginning of this is very mature, and pretty descriptive. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Living On A Dream

Kagome groaned and tried to roll over in bed, only to find that she was being held securely in place by a pair of arms. Looking down at the large, rough, tanned hands that bound her waist, she smiled to herself. Slowly, her eyes traced up the arms attached to those hands, wonderfully tan and thick with muscle, gripped possessively around her, even in sleep. Her body turned slowly with her eyes, moving to face the beautiful man that belonged to the beautiful arms.

His face was relaxed, long black eyelashes resting softly on his powerful cheekbones, rough skin glowing softly in the early morning light. Her small fingers traced themselves up his bare chest to trace fine lines across his face, relishing the feel of the night's growth of stubble beneath her hand. A perverted grin plastered itself on his face, and Kagome marveled at how he could still manage to be perverted in his sleep. Well, she thought he was asleep, but that was all forgotten when she felt his long, calloused fingers traveling down her back to rest on her behind. "I know you're awake, 'Roku, no one sleep gropes, not even you." Kagome whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose and sitting up in the bed.

Miroku let out a small moan as he watched his wife rise, the fur blanket sliding down to her waist, exposing her perfect breasts to his eager eyes, dusky nipples standing at attention. "I don't think your anyone to talk, as you were just performing a perfectly shameful grope while I was innocently asleep a few moments ago." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders again and tried to pull her back down to him.

"How would you know if I was 'groping' you in your sleep, if you were so innocently asleep?" The woman asked, pushing herself up and away from the warmth of their bed, the fur slipping completely off her body. He smirked at her and rose from the bed as well, crawling across it on all fours towards her like a predator stalking its prey.

His eyes raked her naked form, feeling a certain sense of pride to see a body that only he was aloud to see, one that belonged to him, and only him. He slid off the bed, his hands running themselves up and down her slim stomach, loving the goose bumps that rose at his touch. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure, and Miroku let his hands wander a bit more.

Slowly he ran a finger down her thigh and back up again all the way to her breast. And then again, Kagome gasping as his hand dipped to her inner thigh, stopping just below her core and traveling back out again. "Mmm… we need to dress, 'Roku, or we'll never leave this room."

"That sounds like a good idea to me, 'Gome." Miroku agreed, purring her name lustfully as he dragged her towards the bed by her hand. When she pulled away from him, however, he settled for staying where they were and pressing a rough kiss to her swollen lips. "I love you, 'Gome." And she could feel how much he loved her, pressing up against her leg. Letting out a squeal, Kagome jumped away from him, suddenly feeling ill to her stomach.

Clasping a hand over her mouth, the woman ran into the room adjoined to their own, and promptly threw up in the large tub used for bathing. A few moments later, she felt a familiar pair of large hands pulling her hair out of her face as she regurgitated again, and wondered what had made her this way. "Are you okay now?" Miroku questioned as she gave another dry heave, before sitting up and whipping her mouth. He had thrown on a pair of pants, and in his haste had put them on backwards, but was nonetheless standing over her now, looking very concerned. She nodded and rose shakily to her feet, the wave of nausea leaving her as quickly as it had come.

The mood having been ruined, Kagome and Miroku both dressed and left the room, their hands linked as they made their way to the kitchen. Kagome moved to start breakfast, and Miroku pulled dishes from the low cupboards.

As another wave of nausea hit her, Kagome clasped a hand over her mouth, and turned away from the fire, as not to get anything on the half cooked bacon. Miroku was at her side in a second, holding her as she let out another dry heave and rose, clinging to her husband's strong form, her own, smaller one shaking slightly. "Maybe we should take you to Kaede, this could be something serious." The monk questioned softly, stroking Kagome's raven hair as she fisted his purple robes in her small hands.

"After breakfast. I feel better now, 'Roku, I think its past now." She spoke faintly, pushing away from her husband and returning to the sizzling bacon.

In truth, Kagome didn't feel better, in fact, she felt like she could throw up again at any moment as she cooked the bacon, and eggs, then placed them on two plates for the both of them. Just the scent of food was enough to coax more and more waves of queasiness over her, and she found that she could not eat. Half way through the meal, when Kagome had yet to take a bite, Miroku, who had been glancing at her every five seconds, finally stood up. "Come on, Kagome. I'm taking you to see Kaede." And Kagome didn't put up a fight. In fact, she didn't stay awake long enough to put up a fight, as she fainted as she tried to stand up.

Kagome woke, she didn't know how much later, to the feel of a cool cloth over her forehead. After blinking a few times, Kagome could make out the blurry outline of the face of an old woman. A familiar old woman. Kaede. Kagome shot up in the bed, and was immediately pushed back down by the wrinkled, old, priestess hands. "Calm yourself, child. We need to speak alone before your husband finds that the herb I sent him to search for does not exist." Kagome snorted at the thought of Miroku scouring the forest for an imaginary plant, and nestled into the pillows, perfectly content with just laying there.

"What do you need to talk to me about? Is it about this morning? Am I seriously ill? Am I going to die?" Kagome questioned, the words tumbling over each other in her hurry to get them out. Kaede chuckled and pressed the cool cloth over Kagome's mouth to silence her.

"No, no, young one, nothing like that. Kagome, I believe you are with child." It seemed like every nerve in Kagome's body gave a sudden jolt, then went numb. Pregnant? She couldn't be. Okay, so she could be. But how? Okay, so she knew how. But now? Apparently yes, now. What would Miroku say? He would be overjoyed, of course. Her head was spinning and she closed her eyes, trying to rid her mind of all of the thoughts that would dampen her mood. She was going to have a baby. In a few months she would be a mother. The one thing she had always wanted.

Opening her eyes again, she looked up at Kaede's smiling face and beamed up at her, Launching herself up and throwing her arms around the old woman's neck, almost knocking her backwards with the force. Kagome quickly let go of the priestess when the flap covering the door of the hut was pushed aside, and in walked Miroku, looking very downcast and saddened. The small woman, still unable to wipe the smile off her face, threw herself at her husband, pressing kisses all over his face. "Oh, what ails you my love?" She questioned, placing her hands on his firm chest and looking up at him innocently.

She could practically see the gears working in Miroku's head. He glanced down at Kagome, then at the old priestess, then back at Kagome. "It seems I was misinformed. A certain old hag fed me the tale that you would surly parish if I didn't find the little blue flower with the green center. Only when I couldn't find it did I return, in hopes that she could find it for me."

"I am sorry, my love. It seems Kaede lead you on a wild goose chase. The flower she sent you to search for does not exist, and I am perfectly fine, in fact, I've never been better." Kaede looked sheepish and blushed a bit, sending a meaningful look at Kagome, before exiting the room. Kagome grabbed her husband's large hand and practically dragged him out of the hut, skipping along like a giddy schoolgirl.

When they reached their modest hut, Kagome practically pushed him, laughing, into a chair. But then, she thought better of that, and pulled him back up again. "I don't think you'll want to sit down. When I tell you what I've got to say, I'm sure you'd just want to stand back up again."

"Well then, what is it? What was so important that you had to drag me away from a perfectly good excuse to strangle that old woman?"

"Well, if you're going to be like that, I just won't tell you." Kagome huffed playfully, crossing her arms and turning away from him. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her and smiled. She knew he wouldn't let her stay mad at him for long.

"I'm sorry, love. Tell me, I promise I'll listen." He murmured in her ear, nipping against the sensitive skin behind it.

"Are you sure you want to know?" She teased.

"I'm sure."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"Were going to have a baby, Miroku. You're going to be a father." The monk slipped a bit in his ministrations and bit down on her neck a bit harder than he meant to.

"What did you just say?" He dared not believe it.

"I said Kaede is waiting naked for you in her hut for you to ravish her and sweep her off to some secluded, romantic spot in the middle of the forest," she shivered at the thought, then continued, "I said you're going to be a father."

He was silent for a moment, as if mulling it over. Then, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, the monk let out a jolt of laughter, clutching his wife around the middle and swinging her around, an immense sense of pride and happiness swelling up in his chest and threatening to take him up the ceiling. This was his dream, had been his dream for years now. To have a child of his own. To see it grow into its own individual person. Teaching it to talk, to walk, to see it develop powers of its own. The thought sent a pang of longing through his body as he placed his hands and head on Kagome's still flat stomach. "Hello in there," He murmured gently, so Kagome could only just hear him, "I'm your father."

"I'M GOING TO CASTRATE YOU, MONK!" Miroku cringed at the threat, which had been repeated several times over the past hour, and which he knew Kagome would carry out, without a second thought. And that was one of the reasons why he was not in the room with her. She might have strangled him if he was there.

Despite the threats to his person, at each scream of pain, Miroku had to be held back from running into the room with her and holding her hand, no matter how displeased with him she was at the moment. At a particularly loud scream of pain, Miroku gave up, slinking down on the floor and hitting the back of his head, over and over, on the wall. He knew he was a wreck, and Inuyasha had been all to happy to remind him, several times, of how horrible he looked. But he didn't care. He had sent Inuyasha out, with the promise that, when his wife was giving birth, he would torment him about it at every possible moment.

The sound of a swishing curtain brought Miroku's head back up to see a servant girl, beaming down at him, and holding a tiny thing, bundled in fine purple blankets. He was on his feet in an instant. "Congratulations, lord Miroku, you have a healthy little daughter. Your wife is perfectly fine, and is asleep. You may see her now if you wish." Taking his daughter, his daughter, from the servant girl, he swept into the room. His eyes stayed fixed on the tiny face as he sat in a chair beside the bed where his wife slept.

Was it possible for a human to be that small, that fragile? It was amazing, just how much she looked like her mother. Black hair, porcelain, perfect skin, and the most beautiful blue eyes, that only her mother possessed. And she was perfect, so utterly perfect. It surprised him that she wasn't crying. Every newborn he had ever seen had been bawling, protesting profusely at the introduction to the world. But she was so quiet, and perfectly content to just stare up at her father drinking in his every feature, just as he was to her. His heart nearly stopped when she managed to reach a tiny, pudgy hand put of her blankets to grope, haphazardly at his face. With a smile on his face, Miroku raised a finger to her flailing hand, and she immediately latched on, gripping it with amazing strength for such tiny fingers.

Sighing, the tiny babe stuck her father's knuckle in her small, rosebud mouth, and fell asleep. It was then that Miroku thought of the perfect name for his beautiful daughter. Sayuri, small lily.

From the moment he first laid eyes upon her, it was clear that Sayuri had her dear father wrapped around her little finger. When she cried at night, he was the first one up to tend her. When she wanted something, her father would have brought it to her on a velvet cushion. And when her mother denied her something, she knew it was her father who would give her whatever she wanted, no matter what her mother said.

"Papa!" Came the joyful cry of the four year old girl, her raven curls bouncing as she ran to greet her father. Kagome followed not long after, her belly once again swollen, late into her second pregnancy. Beaming, Miroku dropped his staff to sweep the little girl into his arms, cherishing the feel of holding his daughter after a month of traveling.

"Oh, it's so good to see you both. You have no idea how much I've missed you." He exclaimed, holding his daughter in one arm and hugging his wife with the other , pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. Letting out a disgusted squeal, Sayuri buried her face in her father's purple robes.

"Daddy kissed mommy, grose!" Came her ever mature statement, muffled by the cloth of Miroku's robes. With a wicked, the monk placed both his hands under her arms to lift her in front of his face.

"Grose, you say?" Her blue eyes widened and she flailed around, trying vainly to escape as her father pressed large wet kisses to her face.

"Come on, love. Quit torturing our daughter and lets get inside, I have dinner waiting for you." Kagome urged turning her back on them to enter their hut, Miroku smirking a bit as she tried and failed not to waddle a bit. Throwing his daughter, nonchalantly over a broad shoulder, Miroku followed his wife, secretly enjoying the having his daughter and pregnant wife in such close proximity.

Better enjoy it while I can. Not too long and she'll be threatening to cut off certain appendages again.

A/N: I really don't like how this one turned out. I'm not sure why, but I just might rewrite this later. But for now, this is as good as it's gonna get. The next chapter of Take This to Your Grave should be out soon.