"Touch me like that again and I swear, I will cut that hand right off!"

Miroku rubbed his cheek. Her bright red slap mark had left its imprint. He groaned. The left side of his face was now throbbing. However, it didn't compare to the pain that was in his arm. Miroku could pin point the exact location. His wound started at the wrist and traveled, in a straight line, to the base of his elbow. Kikyo's incision seemed to burn stronger than ever. Miroku assumed it was because he had given into temptation and decided to softly caress Sango's bottom– and he did so with delicate care.

"Don't you want your life to get better?" He laughed helplessly, going over the reasons for why he was there. "Don't push me away by smacking me off! It's hardly kind!"

"Everything was fine the way it was, now I have some pervert following me around telling me he came from hell and is here to help me! What kind of sick joke is this!"

Miroku sighed, exasperated. "Are we in denial again, Sango?" Miroku watched her as she scooted to the foot of the bed (a safe distance away from him) and stubbornly crossed her arms. "Come now, don't be like that! It was only a little pat. . ." Miroku chewed on his lower lip at the lack of her response. He was going to try and be understanding about this. If he couldn't get the girl to listen to him, he was never going to impress Sesshomaru and earn his rightful place in heaven! "Isn't there one thing you really want in the world?"

Sango took a moment to think about that. " . . .it's nothing you could give me."

Miroku raised his eyebrow.

"Somehow I highly doubt that…" He lifted up his arm from under his long dark apparel, revealing his handkerchief and bead covered hand. "...what is it you wish, Sango?"

She looked over at him with a look that bore into his eyes. "Forget it, I said." And suddenly Sango began to look rather sullen.

Miroku rolled his eyes.

He went and leaned over onto her nightstand, made out of fine rosemary oak. "Everyone desires something. You are no different from the millions of people inhabiting this world. . ."

Sango turned sharply on her heel to face him, fists clutched to her sides in annoyance. "So… you're just here until you make me happy, correct?"

"Correct," Miroku answered, slightly nervous at her murderous glare.

"And you won't laugh if I tell you what I…what I want?"

"You have my word."

"I'm going to test out your abilities." Sango spoke. Miroku smirked, ready for any challenge. "Go ahead." Sango smiled. "I want you to become a dog."

Miroku blinked twice, "What?" Sango laughed at his facial expression. He was obviously lost. She lifted up the covers that hid the under part of the bed and grabbed a book out from underneath it. She then brushed the cover off and blew on it so all the dust particles that had gathered on its cover would be gone. She smiled and met Miroku at his side, turning to the page with a black German Shepard on it. "Hey, woman-izer, look at this…"

He slid a finger lightly down her chin to her neck, "What is it?" He said, softly.

"So you respond to 'woman-izer', huh?" Sango gulped, placing a foot in back of her for balance.

Miroku kept a stern face, lightly brushing the air against her cheek, and then dropping his hands to the side. "Women intrigue me; I will admit that. But I cannot honestly say to you that I have ever fallen in love: true love. But… the thing is… the conditions. They said I can't fall in love…" Miroku gave Sango a small smile and Sango could feel her face turn magenta. She froze. Sango had had enough. She was utterly scared and confused by his motives now. She soon thawed, and walked backwards against the wall. Her heart felt like it was being savagely thrown around inside her chest.

"You don't seem like the type of man who would settle down with a woman." She stammered, dropping the magazine to the floor.

"You hardly even know me…" Miroku whispered, averting her gaze.

Sango exhaled. That's what I want."

She watched as Miroku turned his head to glimpse at her again.

"What do you want?" He asked, carelessly.

"I want someone to love me, and you can't give me that." Sango's eyes held a sadness that stunned Miroku.

"Sango, but we've only just met!"

"I wasn't talking about you, "she snapped, anger bubbling up inside of her. "Of course I can't love you! First off, you're dead—"

"Don't rub it in…"

"Second of all, you're from Hell!" Sango seethed. The memory of Miroku groping her was now coming back.

"So you want me to find you a mate, is that it?"

Sango blinked at the calmness in his face. "Yes…"

He nodded. "I'll see to it that your wish is fulfilled."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: Sorry it's such a short chapter, with like…nothing happening yet. I promise you that it will pick up from here, though.