This fic is very loosely based upon the life of Edgar Degas (with artistic liberties taken ). Also, the story was inspired by the song Tiny Dancer by Elton John. I do not own Tiny Dancer or Inuyasha. The material presented in this piece belongs to their respective owners. Not me.
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Previously: Closing his eyes in annoyance, he surrendered himself to what he predicted to be an awful evening. That chilly summer night, Sesshomaru fell asleep to a symphony of weeping.

The next morning, Sesshomaru awoke from his fitful slumber to the happy chirping of birds outside of his small, grime-encrusted window. With a sigh, he sat up and adjusted his eyes to the blurry sunlight that bored into his retinas. He slowly put his shoes on and returned his reading glasses to his pocket.

"Why exactly did I agree to spend the night here...? It is not as if I rectified the situation..." He repressed a mental shudder at the memory of the landlord lewdly assaulting Kagome the previous night. A disgusting whore she may be, a cancer of society, but rape just did not sit well with the ill-tempered artist.

Although he was loath to touch the old, moldy door, he pushed it open and stepped out. The windows in the reception area were slightly cleaner than those of the hotel room, so sunlight poured inside to fill the room. Judging by the sun's position and the angles of the shadows being cast, Sesshomaru guessed it to be approximately 9 in the morning. "That insufferable woman seems like the type to awaken before dawn, so where is she...?" he wondered, cautiously looking to his sides and finding neither Kagome nor the landlord, Boucher. His eyelids fell to half-mast as he realized with exasperation that it was quite plausible that the foul miscreant could be once more harassing Kagome, perhaps even in her own bed. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation as he turned to face the door to Kagome's chamber.

"If I once again have to pull that degenerate off of her, I swear..." he muttered under his breath as he rapped on the door and found it unlocked, as it swung open in a wide arc. Left eyebrow arching questioningly, Sesshomaru took the liberty of stepping into Kagome's personal chamber, despite the fact that he could detect no trace of the presence of Boucher in the small room. His eyes slid to the petite form of the sleeping Kagome.

At that moment, Sesshomaru realized just how young the little dancer really was. "Why, she's a mere child," he thought with a grimace, and a pang of guilt, of which the source was unknown to him, ripped through his gut.

Her dark hair was splayed across the pillow in perfect ebony waves, and her tiny left hand, which had been thrown haphazardly above her head some time during her sleep, twitched slightly, and she softly sighed. Sesshomaru stepped near the bedside and quietly observed her.

Her small mouth was slightly agape, revealing supple pink lips shaped into a small "o." Dark eyelashes rested softly upon high cheekbones like a fringe of delicate black lace. Soft cheeks, still slightly round from youth, reflected a stray beam of light from its sun-kissed surface. Sesshomaru's eyes traveled south of her face and saw the mottled tattered blanket, having caught the hem of her white nightgown, hitched up to reveal scrawny, taught, pale-cream legs. "So young," his thoughts trailed off as his view strayed up her abdomen to rest upon her perky breasts, which were standing at attention at the slightly chilly draft that wafted in through the open door. "Far too young..."

He stepped closer to her bed until his shins pressed against the bedding. Her brilliant blue eyes... how could they look so similar to those of everyone else when closed, but so very different when open and observantly gazing at the world around her? He bent over to get a closer look at her face, particularly those closed eyes. Solely for artistic purposes, of course.

At the moment Sesshomaru's face came to hover above her own, her eyes sleepily drifted open. Sesshomaru froze. Hard topaz clashed with soft opal for a moment, and she blinked at him tiredly. And then she became fully awake and aware of her surroundings and situation. Her slanted eyes flew wide open, and she shrieked directly in Sesshomaru's face. Limbs flailed wildly in alarm, causing her body to become entangled in the twisted blanket.

Clarity settled over her features, and it was rapidly followed by outrage. Cold, hard eyes blazed with anger like the hottest flames of Hades. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded incredulously, pulling the blanket up to her chest in a feeble attempt at modesty. Her small hands, however, betrayed her fear, and they trembled like a leaf shuddering under the force of the wind. At that instant, Sesshomaru saw how small, how fragile, how breakable she really was.

"I was merely... observing," Sesshomaru lied, clasping his hands behind his back and tilting his head in an air of superiority and arrogance. His eyes narrowed, and he glared down at her with contempt, much like a petulant child that had been caught stealing a honey cake from the kitchen counter.

Kagome's mouth fell open in disbelief. "You were 'observing me,' so you felt that it was acceptable for you to break into my room and watch me sleep?! I never took you for such a dirty old man, Monsieur De Gas," she practically shouted at him as her hands worried and wrung and wound themselves further into the tangled bedding. At the words "dirty old man," Sesshomaru's eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes became dangerous dark-rimmed slits. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown leather wallet, all the time maintaining eye contact with the frightened and fuming Kagome.

"Get out! I don't want your money. If you want that, then find a prostitute next door." She was shaking her head vigorously and pointing enthusiastically at the door as if she was having some manner of hysterical fit. In fact, Sesshomaru was beginning to wonder if she was mentally sound at all.

"You misunderstand. Let me talk, girl," Sesshomaru demanded as he pulled a few bills from the wallet in his hand. "Take this and buy yourself some food. You dropped your loaf of bread last night, did you not? I do not see any more food around this room." Kagome's eyes widened, and the rage disappeared from her face, all thoughts of Sesshomaru's intrusion of her privacy completely forgotten. "Also," he continued regally as he placed the money on the bedside table before returning his wallet to his pocket," before next month's rent is due, you will be moving all of your possessions into my residence. You clearly are in need of a guardian." He stepped back to gauge Kagome's reaction to that statement; not that it mattered, for as far as the man was concerned, his word was gospel and would be obeyed without question.

Kagome's reception of the proposition, which was in all actuality a demand, did not fail to please him. Her face became still as stone and betrayed no emotion. However, her voice was full of polite, yet barely-contained wrath. "Thank you, monsieur, but I am a grown woman and can take care of myself." She disentangled herself from her blanket and walked over to stand in front of the imposing artist, all thought or pretense of modesty forgotten in her anger. "I appreciate the offer, and I am deeply in debt to you for your actions last night, but-"

"Ah, if you are in debt to me," Sesshomaru interrupted, looking down at the incensed female before him, "then you will repay me by extracting yourself from this situation. For all I know, and predict, you may have deserved what occurred last night, but everyone deserves a proper Christian burial, even a heaven such as yourself." At the blatant insults and assumptions, Kagome huffed and prepared to launch on a verbal tirade, but Sesshomaru once again cut her off with a burning look and a hand motion. "If I had left you last night, your body would have been rotting in a pile of refuse somewhere." He spoke coldly, and Kagome visibly deflated and foundered under the pressure of the older man's words.

"Mais, it would not be proper for me to take advantage of such an offer, for I have no way to repay you. Unless..." she trailed off, eyes widening in fear and sudden panic as she swiftly began retreating backward until the backs of her legs hit the bedside table.

Sesshomaru laughed a hard, severe laugh. "You have no need to fear, little papillon. I will not, nor do I have any desire whatsoever, to exact such a toll from you. You will live in my house, and for room and board, you will cook and clean for me. You will also spend a minimum of 3 hours per week aiding my studies. Is this clear?" His voice brooked no argument, and an expectant look made Kagome wilt further in shame and guilt.

"I suppose I have no choice, do I? Thank you, monsieur, for your overwhelming generosity," she murmured as she cast down her eyes in compliance and deference. Sesshomaru found himself, in the back of his mind, enjoying this obsequious side of the young dancer. She was so easily conquered...

He scoffed and averted his eyes. "Then it is settled. A fortnight from today, a carriage will arrive shortly after dawn to receive you and your possessions," He had turned to exit the room when a petite hand flew forward to catch his own much larger one, her thin fingers wrapping around his own in a warm embrace.

"Vraiment, Monsieur De Gas, thank you so much." Kagome gushed, tears glistening in her bright eyes.

With a roll of his eyes, he removed her hand from his person and walked through the open door. Even so early in the agreement, Sesshomaru was beginning to regret his decision.
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Merci! Merci beaucoup (thank you very much!) for the reviews and support I've received for this fic 3

Mais: but
papillon: butterfly (I figured that it was an apt way to describe Kagome, ne?)

Vraiment: truly