Disclaimer: -is singing in a very Gollum-like voice- No Inuyasha for meeeeeeeeeeeeeee... -hits high note- -window panes crack-
Oi vey. Two updates in one night... I am exhausted. But I must get this chapter out!
...And I have to say: wow. Thanks for the stunning reviews. All... what? 22 of them?? 52 over all!? -faints from hysteria- You guys are SO COOL! I feel so blessed... continue my streak?? Arigato! -bows-
This is for all of you! Here we go!
(And one more thing: sorry for the screwed format. It's just how my laptop used to type before it died an untimely death. -cries, lamenting beautious laptop-)
Chapter 3
"Welcome, Mistress Thief, to my home. Well, at least for the summer." Miroku
whispered, waving a hand dramatically. Sango narrowed her eyes, still
thinking that this was a bad idea. She didn't know why, but something about
sneaking around unknown gardens at 3 in the morning that were possibly
filled with police kind of turned her off. And to make matters worse, this
idiot beside her kept trying to take her hand. Or her ass. She smacked him
soundly for the hundredth time then winced as the sound rebounded throughout
the dark front lawn.
"Who all is here?" She snarled softly, turning to the bruising young man
beside her. He shrugged, rubbing his stinging cheek. Damn, she could slap!
"Nobody. Nobody really knows about this place, to be honest. I bought it
under a different name and agency, so nobody here knows that this place is
owned by me. Not even my own personal barber." Sango stared at him.
"So... so you don't have people waiting on you hand and foot while you're
here?"
"Actually, I've only been here once. When I was here I simply told my staff
I was borrowing it from a business associate. I doubt anyone remembers where
it is- you know how long it took us to get here."
And indeed, he was right. It had taken them all night (and nearly the whole
morning) to get here- the path that led to the smallish mansion was gravel,
a tipsy winding road through the mountains. It was difficult to follow in
the daylight, but even worse at 2 in the morning. Sango rechecked her
digital, glowing watch: 3:02. Was this night never going to pass!? She
turned to the star beside her.
"Well, can we get in? I mean, are any alarms going to go off or something if
we open up a door?" She asked, trying to keep her blood from boiling. It was
bad enough being on the run, but now she had no plan and an idiot following
her as well. Miroku chuckled quietly.
"I'm not as dumb as you think-" he started, but Sango let out an 'Ooh?'. He
glared at her but continued. "-And I like privacy as much as you do. I pay a
gardener cash every month to keep this place in shape, and he should have
done it 4 days ago on Monday. So, he's not here, and I have virtually no
alarms active in the house. Just in the upstairs balcony doors. Come on-
we'll go in through the front." With that, he confidently stood up from
where they had been crouching in a bush and started to stride up the
manicured lawn. Sango hissed in anger and leapt out, landing neatly and
quietly on the star. She pinned him down, straddling him. Miroku chuckled.
"Now, now, Mistress Thief. Save that for the master suite bedroom!"
-SLAPPP-
"Shut up! I'm not some sick whore. Now, listen up. Here's your first official
lesson as a thief. NEVER. Just. Walk. Up! Duh! Come on- we have to sneak up.
Follow me." She got up off of the young man and quickly skirted the edges of
the bushes all the way to the front, where she motioned Miroku to unlock the
front door. As he fumbled with the keys, Sango studied the front door.
"... Lock... bar code... slide... Not bad, Mr. Celebrity. Not bad at all. Basic but
easy." Sango did a variety of hand motions, and Miroku looked on as the door
swung noiselessly open. Sango smirked. "Way too easy. We'll be fixing that."
She strode easily in, leaving Miroku outside, mouth agape, on the large
front steps. He shook his head, replaced the keys in his pocket, and quickly
followed her, being careful to shut and lock the door behind him. He found her wandering the main hall, lightly fingering the edges of several paintings. She ran her deft fingers teasingly around the edge of an expensive-looking vase, soaking up the details and colors of the paint.
"Now, it's dark in here... but is this a Sengoku Jidai piece?" She asked softly,
staring at the beautiful work of art.
"Yep. It is, in fact. How could you tell?" Miroku wondered, watching the
thin female lightly pick it up and toss it experimentally in the air. She
chuckled quietly when he took in his breath sharply.
"Don't worry, I won't drop it. The weight of the ancient materials... the rare
inlaid gold filigree... as well as the exceptionally fine lacework of the filigree. Also
the paint used. It's been restored, of course, but any experienced thief
could tell you that this is very old. And extremely valuable. How much did
you pick this up for?" She asked, tracing the swirls and patterns. Miroku
shrugged.
"Hell if I know. I didn't buy it- I inherited it. It came from my family's
old shrine." He said, walking to her side. "Beautiful, isn't it? It's
possibly one of my favorite pieces." Sango left the vase, continuing her
exploration of the mansion. After studying a few scrolls in a huge library
she found down the hall, she looked at her new student.
"We need sleep. Tomorrow we figure out what we're going to do with you, and
you are going to teach me everything you know about this place. Got it?"
Sango said in a very demanding tone. Miroku nodded.
"Sure thing, Mistress Thief. Come on, I'll show you to your room." Gently,
he took her hand and led her up the stairs to the huge indoor balcony that
swept about the room. He led her down the hall, still holding her hand.
Sango tried to pull it away, but his grip only tightened. He is trying to
woo me, Sango thought. He doesn't know what he's in for... She thought smugly.
She watched him open a door and bow, then walk away. Sango went into the
room and searched for a lock, only to be disappointed. Dammit. No lock. She
flopped onto the bed exhaustedly. She clumsily pulled off her nakatie suit,
revealing a pair of small purple lavender 'boy's style' underwear and a
tight stomach-showing baby pink tank top. Sango's last conscious thought was
Mmm... water bed. Feather pilloooooww...
-.-
Sango awoke to the comforting feel of warmth, something she wasn't
accustomed to. She moaned with pleasure, forgetting the harsh outer Sango
for a moment. She turned over, seeking to get closer to the warmth. The
warmth wrapped itself about her, settling around her waist, washing over her
back, twining about her legs. She moaned again, soaking up the feeling of
utter calm and peacefulness. She soon forgot it, however. The feeling became
the cruelty of someone groping her ass. Sango woke up to find Miroku utterly
molded to her body, his arms encircling her, hips grinding hers, his long
muscled legs twisted suggestively around her own. She shrieked madly and
punched at the terribly close range, thrashing about in a psychotic attempt
to get him off. It worked: though far too close, her punch landed fairly
well and succeeded in knocking him off of the bed. She scuttled backwards
like a crab, in full-blown panic mode, until she reached the other side of
the bed. She stared at him as he managed to clamber up using the end of the
bed. Her voice quivered with rage.
"How did- how long- you- did you-what did you!" She managed to get out. He
smiled, despite the crater in his face. He rubbed it, but the red mark
remained and soon flushed a dark purple. He shook his head as the delayed
blood began to flow. He ran out of the room into her joined, private bath.
Sango didn't move, she just stared in disbelief at the fancy dark wood
sliding door. Miroku came out, and immediately his nosebleed started up
again. The blood began to spurt, almost spraying on his white muscle shirt
and dark indigo boxers. (A/N: He wears boxers! Eee! Miroku in boxers!!! o)
He dashed back in, swearing like a sailor.
-Miroku's POV-
I came out of the bath, having successfully stopped my terrible nosebleed,
and looked at the bed. I nearly passed out. Sango was in it, her
thin-strapped shirt nearly falling off of her. Her shining hair was rumpled,
but looked just fine as it was in a messy ponytail anyways. Her lips were
trembling, and her (stunning, might I add) chest was heaving. I was enthralled, and
before I could stop them, the images came.
Sango was on the bed...
She was smiling...
The shirt wasn't falling off...
She was taking it off...
For me...
Her lightly tanned skin was glistening with her physical desire...
"Shit! Dammit!" I yelled as I felt the all-too-familiar rush of liquid begin
to flow from my nose. I turned around in a half-circle and sprinted back to
the miniature bathhouse. I slammed the door shut and pressed a Kleenex up to
my nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. I looked into the mirror.
Miroku, don't you start this! You can't go off and try to get her! But she's
so beautiful. She really should model... No! No! Bad Miroku! You. Can't.
Think. Like. That! Well, excuse a guy for dreaming! She's your sensei! Your
master! Not Koharu! No SHIT she's not Koharu!!
I lifted my bloodied tissue from my nose. The flow had stopped. Thank kami.
I wiped my nose to rid it of the telltale red stain then splashed my face
with cool mineral water from the spout. I took a monogrammed towel from the
rack and dried my face off. I shook my head once and headed back out.
-General POV-
Miroku walked back out, eying Sango on the bed as though she were poisonous.
She snarled and leapt up, completely ready to beat the crap out of the
bastard. She stormed up to him, face already an angry red.
"And what, may I ask," she started, her fists shaking with dreadful
anticipation, "Do you think you were doing SLEEPING with me!? Hmm? Since
when is it ok to climb into bed with me? I HATE YOU!" She spat, trying not
to yell. "You're so irritating! Gods! Why can't you understand that? What is
it about me that you find so irresistible?" Miroku smiled infuriatingly in
the face of certain maiming.
"Well, for one thing, your shirt keeps falling off." He said quite calmly,
pulling a strap up from her arm and placing it nicely onto her shoulder.
"For another thing, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You may
be a cold bitch, but you're still beautiful." Sango saw red.
"Is that all that matters to you? Beauty? Oh, come now, surely that French
model you were dating was better," she said swiftly, not letting his
compliments through. Miroku chuckled and Sango was surprised at the deep,
sincerely pleasing sound. He shook his head.
"Actually, she was German. And no, she held no contest." He leaned in close
as his heart beat wildly. "I like you better." he whispered, then ducked his
head fully and took her lips in a chaste but exciting kiss. Sango tried to
back away, but unfortunately the thief met up with his arms, which pulled
her closer to him. She had no choice but to sprawl her hands on his chest.
Sango tried to push him away, but the actor was experienced in close-kiss
situations and held onto her tightly. Sango groaned as he expertly moved his
soft lips, invoking nausea and ill-meant wishes towards the rich young man.
She attempted to bite at his lips, but they evaded him. He smirked while
kissing her: there was no way he was chancing another bloody mouth. As she
cried out into his lips in torment, he let her go. He was breathing
hard, and he put one hand up to his forehead and one up against the wall in
an attempt to steady his quivering body. Sango, on the other hand, fell to
the floor, feeling dirty and disgusting for the first time in her life. This
man, this bastard, had stolen not one but three kisses from her. She stood
up shaking and looked at him. Another first timer: Sango lost her cool. She
punched him several times, but didn't stop. As she screamed, she made sure
to physically hammer in her words and their meaning.
"YOU- ARE- SUCH- AN- ASSHOLE! GO- TO- HELL! YOU- ARE- A- FUCKING- BASTARD!"
She stopped hitting him, and stared at his mangled form on the floor.
Exhausted, she fell down too, crying as though her body was shattering. She
wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her tears and trembling lips.
Why am I being such a weakling?
"I'm such a c-coward." She stuttered, trying to stop her hiccupping cries.
Miroku sat up, having absorbed most of the blows into his aching arms. He
crawled on his hands and knees across the soft carpet, moving slowly and
cautiously over to the dangerous thief. He sat down beside her and tried to
comfort her. Even though he was the cause of all of this anger and pain, he
rubbed her back and attempted to calm her. When she didn't stop shaking, he
carefully wrapped his strong arms around her. Sango, in a depressed stupor
over her lost honor, melted into his grip. He murmured words of comfort and
serenity to her, crooning to her like a parent would to an upset child.
Eventually, all anger and sadness dissipated under his circle-rubbing hands,
and Sango was quiet with the exception of a random hiccup. She sniffled once
before realizing who was holding her.
"Let me-" She started angrily, trying to push him away before-
"Just stay." Miroku whispered, pulling her closer. One of his hands left her
back and traveled to her hair. He let his fingers run through the silky
strands, twirling the straight dark brown ends before going back up. He
murmured something that Sango didn't quite catch, but she was too shocked to
ask for a repeat. Miroku, not hearing an answer, repeated his quiet
statement.
"Mistress Thief. I am so sorry. I don't know what got into me. I guess that
I just got sick of that happening to me so-"
"So you subjugated ME to it?" Sango asked quietly.
"Yes. But I would take it back, I truly would. Could we just... could we just
stay like this?" He asked softly.
"No!" Sango bucked her hips violently, surprising Miroku. He let her go, and
she bounded out of his arms. "Don't... don't touch me!" She yelled, clenching
her fists. She let the tears flow before she saw Miroku stand up. He walked
over and Sango, eyeing him carefully, found herself moving towards him. She
remembered his lips, his body, the way he had held her. She swallowed
nervously. She hadn't liked it... had she? Miroku watched her with the same
intense stare. He moved towards her, slowly running the back of his hand
across her cheek. Sango felt herself melt against the only kindness anyone
had ever really shown her. They suddenly, in a fit of unknown lust, clung
together. They claimed each other's lips, moving viciously to the other's
time. Their bodies met, grinding against the other's hips harshly as they
sought to let out the feelings they had never been exposed to...
-.-
"What the hell?" Sango muttered. She opened her eyes, but instead of facing
Miroku, she found herself in bed. She was vibrating, covered in sweat, and a
nervously exciting feeling was collecting rapidly in her stomach. She
groaned and clutched her lower abdomen, wondering what in the world could
cause it.
"What is this?" She murmured to herself. She shook her head. "That was
disgusting. Kissing him like that. Oh well... just a dream... Just a fricking
lifelike dream..."
-.-
"Just a dream. Just a wonderful dream..." Miroku whispered, trying to calm his
lower extremities. "Just an absolutely stunning dream. No need to get
excited..." He tried to remember what she had tasted like, what her soft hips
had felt like against his."Shit!" There would be no sleep tonight, apparently.
-.-
-Knock knock-
"What do you want?" An irritated Sango snapped. She was still puzzled over
her dream, still trying to figure out what exactly her mind was trying to
tell her. Sango's dreams had a nasty way of becoming real, but she had never
really DREAMT something she didn't want. She had mostly just dreamed about
rare jewels to be confiscated. But now...
"This is the police. Open up- we know you're in there!" Sango froze. The
door swung open and she chucked a nearby water jug at whoever was opening
the door. The person in the doorway was caught straight in the face. They
fell to the ground, moaning about stupid thieves who can't take a joke.
"Mr. Celebrity? Oh. It's just you." Sango said. She shrugged. "Stupid idiot-
what kind of dull-edged loser pretends to be the police around me?"
"Mistress Thiiieeeeef... there's nobody here but us. Did I really SOUND like a
policeman?" Miroku whined. He stood, looked up, and was frozen on the spot.
S-she's wearing the same outfit she was in the dream!
He's wearing that same outfit! Damn it!
"What're you staring at, you baka?" Sango asked incredulously, as though
there was nothing to stare at. In truth, she was staring at Miroku in quite
the same way, but her gaze was with horror. Not perverted hopes and dreams.
"So, uh. you hungry?" He asked, shifting nervously. Just her atmospheric
presence was driving him insane. She shrugged and climbed out of the bed.
She looked down at herself, and a light pink blush smoothed across her
cheekbones. Miroku decided to make her blush more often. She looked really
cute like that. She looked up and glared at him.
"Get out. I'll be down in half an hour. I need a shower. Out!" Miroku didn't
argue- he just got out. He walked downstairs, and began to inspect his
pantry for food.
-.-
Ah, Dirty Little Thief. You know, I really like this story. It's fun to write, and it's got an... interesting... way of writing itself! Plus, who doesn't like to see poor Sango forced into the same damn habitat as Miroku??
Review?
And check out the profile of Khepri! She rocks and is my favorite authoress! She's responsible for a lot of what goes on in my chapters. -applauds- Go review her! NOW I SAY!
And... review for me, too??
-FL