"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers…"

                                                      -A Streetcar Named Desire

Sesshomaru found Kagome, if not she found him wandering throughout the halls of the mansion, sauntering in his non-committed way about everything.

"Oh, hello.  I was looking for you," she said cheerfully, as if this morning had never happened.  He hated when she put on a mask to hide her feelings.

"We need to talk, princess."  His eyes said it all, red glinting in auburn.  She didn't like that look.

"Fine. Let's go to my room," she answered.  Kagome knew she would find comfort in some territory that was entirely her own, and by the look in Sesshomaru's eyes, she was definitely going to need it.

Sesshomaru, on the other hand, was slightly affronted by the suggestion.  He complied, but he knew her game—and he felt somewhat vulnerable.  When they arrived in her corner of the house and entered her room, Sesshomaru almost instantly colored.  Her room was messy, with clothes strewn about, her undergarments decorating the floor.  Blushing delicately, Kagome realized the state of her intimate territory. 

"Wait outside for a bit…" she muttered while hastily shoving everything into her closet.  That wasn't embarrassing at all, was it? She thought miserably.  And finally she took up position on her large four-poster bed and he across from her sitting a little straight-backed in her antique Victorian chair.

"What did you want to talk about…?"  There was a pause where Kagome could swear he was trying to have a staring contest, but she could barely meet his eyes.

"I believe its time for us to talk about InuYasha…"  Kagome's abashed attitude became even more apparent as her colors brightened to somewhat resemble the infamous French "red balloon."

"Ask me anything you need to.  I guess you deserve that."  Kagome didn't want to fight with him, and her compliant attitude ashamed his blunt one. However much Sesshomaru didn't want to inflict pain on her, but in lessons of interrogation he had learned that in anger real secrets are involuntarily revealed.

"Very well.  Did you sleep with him?

"What?"

"Did you love him?  Did he whisper sweet nothings in your ear?  Did he give you what you wanted?"

"What,  are you insinuating I wanted my father dead?"  Kagome was fuming now.  Sesshomaru then pushed her over the limit.

"Did you enjoy it?  Did he enjoy you?"  Sesshomaru's aim was simply to have her slip some important fact.  Instead, he got something else.

"No one takes me seriously!  No one did, except InuYasha." He gritted his teeth at this.

"He was paid to take you seriously."

"So are you," she bit back harshly.

"One difference, princess; you won't be able to kill me if it comes down to it." 

At this her face paled completely, but he provided nothing in the face of his unusual indifference.  But as she began to softly quake with tears, two strong arms surrounded her, both comforting and keeping any evil at bay outside the sanctuary of his embrace.  How can I be so cruel and heartless to her?  How can I be totally stone faced? Sesshomaru thought. 

After a while, Kagome whispered

"Why won't I be able to kill you?" 

"Because, Kagome, I am a professional."

Kagome didn't know how to react at all.  First he was purposefully baiting her and then he was holding her—with more concern and reassurance then one would have expected from him.

Kagome knew what he meant by professional.  InuYasha wasn't.  Their relationship-to him- started out as a façade, but she guessed it might have crossed over into reality.  Kagome wouldn't kid herself to believe he loved her.  InuYasha didn't seem capable of that.  But lusted after her?—yes.  Cared?—possibly.  However the only reason she was able to kill him was perhaps that he couldn't bring himself to kill her.  She supposed he was the first personal connection in his job he ever had.  And his last. 

But Sesshomaru, Sesshomaru had just admitted that he would never let emotions come before work. He had just crushed what little hope she ever had in having a relationship with him. 

He was a professional.

A professional like him would never date a girl like her. A gorgeous twenty-six year old man would never date a nineteen-year-old girl like Kagome. 

Sighing lightly, she tried to just relax in his arms.  At least she had this moment. 

Sesshomaru didn't want to comfort the girl, especially after his comment about being professional.  But was what he was doing professional?  Was what he was feeling professional?  He certainly hoped not.  One did not usually want to fuck your employer's daughter, nonetheless your own charge.  But that was simply his experience. 

He felt her shift in his arms, melting into his body.  He pulled her even closer, tucking her head under his chin and cradling her between his legs.  She smelled glorious—like a forest, the fresh scent on new life and vivacity.  Sesshomaru was resisting every urge to tumble her under him and accost her with the full force of his yearning.

However, he was saved the embarrassment by a rather large knock on the front door.  The spell broken, Kagome gathered enough of herself in time to hear a maid calling her about a large manila folder.  Sesshomaru followed, not quite sure how to react after the intimate scene and even more interested in the unmarked package in Kagome's hands.  Nevertheless, Kagome ripped it open with relish and drew the contents out. 

Her reaction was hardly happy.

She quickly dropped the folder and contents and ran up the stairs—back to her room. 

Sesshomaru glanced down.  Below him was a photograph in all its glory, framed tragically by the black marble of the floor. 

It was complete: InuYasha's body in Kagome's arms and Sesshomaru's large frame in the doorway, watching in the shadows. 

A white card read this:  El Salvador.