A/N: WOW! This story has finally cracked over 100 reviews. Thank you so so so much everyone. Hehe don't worry no lemon or NC-17 content will ever appear in my stories. You probably get a decent idea of what happened, but I won't go in-depth explaining HAHA! I found it quite funny that most people were concerned with Miroku drunk driving rather than those two getting together XD

I decided to update now instead of Monday like I originally planned, and I also decided to update two chapters instead of one. Mainly because this chapter is pretty short (a few words over a thousand) and it would be pretty boring to read only one chapter…stuff wouldn't make a lot of sense! So here is ch13! Read and enjoy :)

Someone Out There
Chapter Thirteen: Alone Again

Why are my sheets blue? thought Sango. Her eyes closed, wanting to fall asleep again. The sheets are so soft too, thought Sango dreamily, and they smell so nice. Like Axe. Wait a minute, Axe? She never used Axe. Only guys use Axe. Oh god. Forcing her eyes to open, she looked around. This room was familiar but not her own. What happened? Her head spun, suffering the consequences of a hangover.

She shuffled around in the bed, accidentally kicking something. Oh shit. She didn't want to know who else was sharing the warm bed. She sat up only to realize her clothes were missing. Oh god. No. No. No! Reluctantly, she turned to see who else was there.

Tousled black hair stuck out from their bed sheets. Oh crap. Sango panicked not knowing what to do. Too much was happening and not registering fast enough for her head to process. Run. Yes, that was always the best thing to do. That was the thing she was good at.

If it wasn't for such a situation, it would've been funny. It was usually the guy who ran out on a girl, not the other way around. Sango frantically looked for her clothes. She shivered in the cold morning air desperately trying to find her black shirt. Her mind tried to piece together what happened, but everything was so muddy. Pieces were scattered everywhere, not coming together.

Buttons unbuttoned, hands flying everywhere. Sango remembered the grouchy bartender, the sweet Coke taste on her tongue and the burning Bacardi at her throat. She felt her face flush, blood rising to her cheeks. Sango hastily buttoned the bottom 3 buttons on her shirt, quickly pulled on her underwear and skirt and started rummaging for her black socks and black tie. His jeans, his boxers…oh! Found socks. Quickly lacing up her boots she began her stealth getaway, leaving the tie behind.

"Oh crap!" she yelped as she crashed into a chair with a pile of laundry on it. Miroku stirred. "Who's that?" he said sleepily, his voice hoarse. An instant rush rose to her cheeks as he sat up. The sheets slid down giving her a gracious view of his chest. Caught in the act. Damn.

"Sango?" Miroku couldn't believe this. Sango looked nervous and did a small smile. What is she doing in his room, half-dressed like that? he thought, frantically trying to remember what happened. He remembered the party last night. The bar. The drinks. What happened afterwards? Did they… Oh shit, he thought as his heart sunk. "No," he whispered, not realizing he said it aloud.

A black curtain fell over Sango's eyes. She'd knew he thought it was a mistake. It was a mistake, really. She laughed bitterly at why she had a ridiculous bubble of hope inside her two seconds ago. Her mouth slacked, body brooding, wishing to leave.

"Can you uh…pass my boxers?" asked Miroku, slightly embarrassed. Sango's faced blushed even more as she rummaged through the clothes to find it. Can she leave now? She wanted to go back to her own room, away from the catastrophe. Run.

Miroku motioned for her to sit beside her on the bed. She felt his warmness radiating from him, his breath soft with concern. "Yes we did…it," broke in Sango before he had to go on stuttering and asking and…apologizing. She dreaded apologizing words coming from his mouth.

Miroku blinked, not knowing how to respond to this. He never was stuck in a situation like this. Awkward moments after sex. But then again, they weren't his frister. Oh god, he slept with his frister. It felt so wrong in his mind. You're not suppose to sleep with your best friend. No. Never. "Hey," he whispered softly, "I'm-" He stopped when she put a finger on his lips. He wanted to kiss them. "Don't be sorry," she said staring straight into his eyes.

Pink sunlight shone through the blinds, softening both their profiles. Sango blinked sadly. "I don't want things to change just because we…you know," said Miroku. "I want you to be my frister forever." The last part crushed Sango's heart. She nodded woodenly desperately wanting to leave.

The tacky ringtone from Miroku's cell rang. He leaned over to his nightstand for his cell phone. Sango instinctively shrank back, afraid of any physical contact with his body. "Hello? Oh hey sweetie," he spoke. "It's Kagome," he mouthed. Sango nodded knowingly.

"What? What are you talking about?" he paused. "What! No it's not…" he cried defensively.

"Oh really Miroku. You dirty little liar!" said Kagome angrily appearing at Miroku's door. "What the hell is she doing her?" she pointed at Sango.

Sango tried explaining, "Uh hey Kagome it's not-"

"Shut your damn mouth," snapped Kagome. Sango shut her mouth tightly. Miroku rose from his bed. Both girls tried not to notice the fact he was only wearing boxers. "Kagome, baby listen." he coaxed.

"No." and with that she left. Miroku slumped to his bed, running his hand through his hair. Damn it, he's got to fix this somehow; got to make things right again. "I'm going to leave too, talk to you later." said Sango softly. She closed the door gently behind him, leaving him alone.

… … … … …

Sango stared back at the girl in the mirror as she dried her hair. She had spent the entire morning in the shower, washing away the grimy dirty privy things that happened last night. She tried soaking the memories away, washing them down the drain but nothing worked. All that did was made her washroom smell even more fruity than before.

The smell of fruit was simply wonderful, it made her feel young and alive. Maybe that's the problem, it made her look immature rather than young. That aside, she wished for change. Something that will put her in perspective. She needs it right now. Sango wiped her swollen eyes and threw the crumpled tissue in the toilet, watching the water dissolve and eat it away.

It was gone just like that. The tissue was nothing but a soggy mess. Her first time gone in a drunken mess. She examined the hicky on the side of her neck. Turtlenecks for a week I guess, thought Sango. She didn't need or want reminding of what happened. Neither did Miroku. He wanted nothing to change. That was a supposedly good thing. Pretend like nothing happened. Nothing changed. A masquerade. She got up and crawled back to bed, not wanting to see anyone for a very long time.