AN: And... update time! So, I am settled in my new job, and Emmie is that much closer to finishing her vacation. Sorry for all you I/K fans... they are taking a short disappearance from the fic so that Miroku and Sango can develop their relationship a little bit more! The next two chapters are predominately about them.

Thank you for the reviews, and yes, you're right... Inuyasha "innocently" touching Kagome is a little bit of an oxymoron.

Oh... and did I mention that the next two chapters contain limey/lemony flavours? You have been warned!

Chapter Seven: Prelude to Surrender

Miroku grinned at Sango. "HI! Sango! Dear!" he proclaimed, eating a piece of Kagome's pie. "You want some?" he asked with his mouth full, crumbs falling out of it as he spoke. "Kagome made it with Shippo's help. It is quite sweet though," Miroku warned before taking another bite.

Little did he know just how much sugar Shippo put in. At this point, the level was like a speed drug that not only got you hyper, but addicted. Which would explain why this was Miroku's third slice. "So, how goes the plans?" he asked tossing his staff from one hand to the other once they were free, because the cake had been stuffed in its entirety into his mouth.

Sango rolled her eyes. "Chew, swallow, and then talk, stupid. Don't try to mix all three, because then you're going to…" She heard the sounds of someone coughing, and she turned to see him holding his throat and coughing, his face red. Sango almost laughed at him. She would have laughed at him if she hadn't been so worried. She hurried to his side and pounded his back for him, trying to help the food go down. Miroku breathed in deeply when his wind pipe was clear, and Sango could hardly keep the amusement out of her voice. "Then you're going to choke."

"Yes, well now that I know not to do that... Want a slice?" Miroku asked opening his pouch, to show Sango the other two slices in it.

She smiled at him, waving her hand. "No thanks. If the cake is what made you be like this," she said, motioning to the way he was all but bouncing off the walls of her tent, "then I don't want any."

"Are you sure? This is really wonderful! Much better then anything else I've tried before-!" Miroku decided that past sins, should remain just that, in the past. And instead of putting his foot in it, he decided to stuff his mouth full of it.

Sango suddenly laughed, a feminine giggle that almost didn't seem to suit the rough, asexual personality she had when she was in camp. It was rather musical. "Miroku, I wish I had someone else here with me to see you like this. I've never seen anybody so buzzed from sugar as you are right now!"

"Sugar! This is SUGAR! Oh my Buddha! Sugar can do this! Holy FUCK!" Miroku yelled in amazement, his stare almost loving and lecherous towards the piece of pie in his hand. "Sango, I fear this pie is tempting me," Miroku added when he noticed the way that pie called for him to bite into it.

"Idiot," Sango said, somehow managing to regain her straight face. "Walking by a melon stand tempts you."

"Because it's so round..." Miroku began to day dream about that curvy shape, the way his hand cupped the round underside and caressed it in a circular motion. With half lidded eyes, he stared happily at his pie. He didn't notice that his hand was actually doing what he was dreaming of it doing- to Sango. Not a melon.

"Mmm... Melon..." He took another bite of the pie.

"PERVERT!" Sango cried, turning around and slapping him. She glared at him a second and then stomped away, sitting far away from him and placing her chair near the wall so he wouldn't get behind her. She glared at him. There were never enough precautions one could take when dealing with Miroku. 'I should have let him choke on the pie!'

Miroku stared at his hand. "Sango! I swear! It has a life of its own! I didn't even know it was doing that! I was thinking about melons!" Miroku swore and offered her the pie. One last time. "Sure you don't want some? It's gooooooooooooooooood! And sweeeeeeeet!"

"Ask me that one more time, and I'm throwing you into the brig until you calm down!" she warned, her face still red from her anger.

"Yes ma'am," Miroku said, stuffing his face. "Oh, which reminds me -God, this pie is good- did you talk to Inuyasha about the plan? I presume you did, because I met him. I think the plan may be slightly backfiring." Miroku swallowed and stared teary eyed at his pouch. "No more cake!" He squeaked.

"Backfiring?"

"I met him on the road, on my back from the demon side," Miroku explained, licking his fingers in attempt to get the last crumbs from his hands. "He's getting attached," Miroku said flatly, as though all at once the sugar drowned out of him and left him serious. The affect didn't last long as he cried when a crumb fell from his hand, and he actually considered picking it off of the floor. He didn't though.

Leaning her elbow on the table in front of her, she held her chin in her hands. "Do demons get attached? No, I don't think that anything will come of this. Kagome would never let it happen. I trust her completely."

"But she doesn't trust herself," Miroku attested, taking a seat beside Sango before telling her the entire exchange between Inuyasha and himself. Quaintly leaving out the parts about her.

Sango refused to believe that the woman she called her best friend would ever start falling for a demon, even if he was half human. Her eyes narrowed warningly at Miroku as he finished his tail. "So she tried to leash the beast. I wish I had though to think of that before letting him into my lands. That doesn't mean she doesn't trust herself."

"Sango, for all of your strategies and wonderful war planning, you don't read people very well." Miroku sighed heavily. "Have you spoken to Inuyasha? He is harmless- To us. I believe he may even count Kagome and Kikyo as friends. For all I know, he cares something for us too. Kagome is a good soul. She never looked at anyone in any way. She didn't differentiate between lepers and none, nor does she do so now with demons and humans. Well, except for the evil ones. She kills them without a second though. Thus my thoughts: she is falling."

"Still," Sango protested, now her own feelings being hurt, "just because she treats him like someone nice doesn't mean that she's falling for anybody! This is your idea, Miroku, you told me that it would work."

"It is. Naraku fell for it hook, line and sinker. I've got the plans to show for it." "But my treaty isn't!" she loudly protested.

"Eh?" Miroku arched his brow quizzically.

Rolling her eyes Sango quickly explained, using very small words so his hyper-sensitive state could understand her. "Inuyasha is supposed to marry Kikyo. They aren't supposed to want to marry anyone else. Even if they don't get married, and they become more physical, according to legend Kagome could lose her power and I would be weakened of not just Kikyo and her stupidly high amount of powers, but Kagome as well, who is almost just as strong. If Inuyasha's father finds out that his son is canoodling, he could call off the treaty because it would be null and void, and then we'd be back to fighting a two-sided war. Understand?"

"Naaaaaaaah. Inu-boy will probably be slapped on the back for nailing two," Miroku said and remembered who he was talking to, and over whom. Lowering his eyes and looking like a beaten puppy he cleared his throat. "Sorry..."

"Remind me why I even keep seeing you," Sango groaned, putting her head down on the desk. She was so tired, and worn out… she didn't know how much longer she could keep doing this.

"Because." Miroku paused. placing down his staff and walking up behind Sango, slowly closing his hands over her shoulders and massaging the tension out of her muscles. "I give excellent massages."

Sango moaned, feeling very relaxed all of a sudden. She winced when his fingertips hit a knot. Okay, apparently she wasn't all the relaxed. "Here," Sango said, shrugging his hands away. She undid her buttons with cramped fingers, and winced she slid her arm out of the sleeves of her jacket. Sango looked at it. The jacket had been her fathers, but by now it had become so covered in dirt and blood that it looked a hundred years old. Sango peeled off her brown shirt. The night air was a little chilly for just a grey tank top, but at least now she wouldn't have her skin being rubbed raw… Sango glanced at the skin of her arms, trying to ignore the scars that had formed a fine network over her skin.

"As soon as this war is over, I'm heading for the beach and tanning," she admitted. She didn't like being pale. She wanted to be a nice, normal, healthy color.

Miroku swallowed. She was gorgeous and he could actually see her skin for a change. She thought it was pale and needed tanning, he thought she looked like a beautiful pale winter morning, with skin as smooth as ivory. Seeing thin pink lines running over it, old scars, Miroku wanted nothing more then to comfort her, hear all their tales and trail kisses over them to make them better.

"Come lay down, and I'll work on your entire back," Miroku promised, already moving to set the mattress up for her to lay flat on her stomach.

There wasn't a single thought in her head except for: this feels good. Sango felt like she was in a daze as she collapsed on her cot, hugging her pillow underneath her chin. She was half-asleep by the time she hit the pillow, sighing further. Her brown eyes closed. "You are good at this," she sighed. "You shouldn't have though. Now I'm going to abuse your hands whenever they're around."

Miroku grinned and worked out a difficult knot in her back, his fingers expertly making the pain go away. "My hands are at your service," Miroku promised, satisfied that at least now she found some use for him, which also gave him an excuse to touch her. Killing two birds with one stone. How perfect!

Miroku had to actually focus on the task and not get side tracked. He had nothing perverted in mind. He could tell she was tired. She was half asleep. Her easy breathing told him that much. But he couldn't help the excitement boiling up within him about touching her. About being close to her. And even, somehow in this own unique way, intimate.

He got to help her, if not out on the field commanding her men then at least here in her tent and her body. All he really wanted since meeting her all those years ago, especially after her father died, was to comfort her and make life easy. He hadn't managed much of either, and he supposed that massaging wasn't going to change the wheel of fortune around to favor him, but he could at least delude himself that it would help somewhat.

Crouching on his knees behind her, he worked on the small of her back then made his way up the solid straight line of her spine to her shoulders and back down to her hips. After working her flesh expertly and fining out even the slightly caught muscles, Miroku knew there wasn't much more his massaging could help do, so he figured if he spoiled the moment now, it at least wouldn't cause Sango to miss out on the massage.

Sango swallowed, hey eyes slowly opening to look at him, and they were filled with pleading. "You're not thinking of anything perverted, are you?" she asked. She felt bad for asking him after he had just given her such a wonderful massage, but at the same time, she didn't want him to ruin this wonderful moment by doing something perverse. Even more dangerous, was the fact that Sango was finding it harder and harder to remain at odds with Miroku. Every time she saw him, the feeling to just give into him was harder to fight, more of her longing for the physical, mental, and emotional intimacy he could provide. She couldn't keep going on like this, not on her own.

If he pressed it, she would surely give in…

Miroku leaned down and licked her ear, he sucked the lobe into his mouth and traced his tongue gently over the skin, his hands closing firmly over her waist and slowly turning her over to her back. Once she was slowly turning, Miroku straddled her and moved his mouth down from her ear to her throat. "Nothing perverted. Only your enjoyment," he promised, sucking the skin where the shoulder met the neck. "Let me, Sango… Please."

Her lips parted as her breath became faster, and nervous. His lips felt burning hot against her skin. She shifted beneath him, and her hands rose to cup his chin, pulling him away from her neck. Sango leaned up and kissed him hard, but passionately, her tongue playing with his lips to get him to open his mouth, and when he did so, she hungrily ran her tongue over the roof of his mouth, letting out a little moan in pleasure. He tasted so good!

Miroku had to chant in his mind every order of Buddha he knew for self control. Sango was his undoing. And hearing her make those sounds, not only caused him to melt but caused his blood to start rushing faster, to areas that affected his brain. And he couldn't let himself get away with that. He needed all of his wits to be about him while he dealt with her, but, as Buddha as his witness, she was his greatest temptation ever.

And her greatest inspiration, he had a new goal in life now: to cause her to make those sounds over and over, louder and deeper again and again until she fell asleep. Fingers finding the hem of her shirt, he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her up against his chest, sitting her up and pulling the shirt off with his free hand.

Once again, Miroku thanked Buddha (he was getting very religious in this sexual act) the woman of his dreams was also everything he could ever dream of underneath the clothes. Staring at her as though she was a Goddess descended from heaven, or like a man starved for food with a feast laid out before him, he lowered his lips to her chest in order to devour her.

Sango sighed against him, arching her back. He could make her feel like they were making out on a full-poster, fluffy, huge bed. It was amazing, how he made her feel. She moaned as his lips played with her skin, her fingers running through his hair and flinging his elastic band away. She shivered with cold, but her mind was warmed by the thought that he wasn't saying anything. Had he even looked at her before he started touching her? No, but she decided it was better that way. This way she could tell herself that it was years ago, back before the war had started—officially, anyway—and back before she looked like she had fought against barbed wire and lost, back before her muscles had gotten sore all the time from carrying around armor and riding from out post to out post on a horse, back to when she had been smiling, back to a lot of things.

'I want this war to be over,' she thought, suddenly quieting, staring up at the ceiling and just letting her fingers play with his hair. Her brown eyes softened. 'I want it to be over. I've had enough.'

Miroku could tell her mood had changed, her moan took on a sadder note than it should. No moan should sound like that except for one of sadness. Looking up at Sango, her fingers framing his face, pushing his hair away from his face.

His crystal blue eyes stared into her earth brown ones and there was only one thought that ran through his mind then. 'I want to make you happy. I want to take you away from all of this and take you to heaven and back every spare moment we have together. I want to show you the joys of life. I want this war to be over and take you for my wife.' Miroku wished sometimes that he had told her all that, but he was smart enough to know when to shut up.

Instead of saying anything, he dipped his index finger in Sango's mouth, running the tip of it over the inner side of her bottom lip. Pulling his hand away, he replaced it with his mouth, kissing her with enough burning intensity to burn them both to a cinder.

Swallowing he attempted to control his passion and found it getting harder with every second passing. He needed to move away from her face, each time he opened his eyes and saw her eyes fluttered and felt the resonating sounds of moans in his mouth, he thought it would be the end of him.

Lowering himself over her body, he took her chest in his hands, feeling and molding her breast in his palm, not roughly but gently and passionately. 'I want you to remember this,' he thought as he sucked on her skin again, giving a light nibble and receiving a yell from her. 'I want you to never forget me.' His hand slid under the belt of her pants. 'I want you to know what I have to offer.' Miroku buried his face in the crook of her neck and panting heavily, his hand still playing with her erect nipple. 'I want you to know my love,' he thought and delicately, exploring softly moved his finger to her core. 'Because Sango, I love you.'

Sango shifted again, trying to get comfortable. She let out a little gasp as she felt him touch her, glad that his lips were still playing with her long, graceful neck. If his mouth was there, he wouldn't necessarily see that her eyes were closed. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see who it was who was touching her so intimately. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that maybe it was one of the soldiers, or hell, even that Inuyasha fellow, and she could pretend it was just physical intimacy between two sex depraved people.

If she pretended it was someone else, then it wouldn't be with someone she cared about, and she wouldn't have the urge to just say his name, to want to see him again, to please him back…

"Mm," she stumbled, about to say his name. She turned instead into a long, deep, and sensuous moan before she slipped her face closer to his, kissing his cheek and jaw line until he raised his head and she could kiss him again. One hand entwined in his dark hair, the other hand sliding down his back, feeling hard muscle. When it reached his hips, she changed the direction and it circled to come in front of his body, feeling his hardened penis through his robes.

"How long has it been for you?" she asked him, panting and squirming, feeling like all of her batteries had been suddenly recharged and she was filled with so much energy, she didn't know what to do.

Miroku gasped. This... He hadn't planned on... "Sango..." Miroku gulped. It was getting harder to control himself if she kept on touching him. "Ever since I met you," Miroku confessed. Moving his hand from her chest, he took her hand away from him, saving them both at the last second and holding her hand tightly in his, he played with her fingers. "Is this good?" he asked suddenly changing pace, he wanted to keep her mind floating and off of him, he wanted her to enjoy his entire focus.

"Anything you do is good," she admitted, laughing a little. She leaned up and kissed his fingertips, darting, quick little kisses on all five of them. Afterwards, she looked up at him, the hint of a smile on her face. "Even just having you touch me is enough."

"Not until I make you scream and weak in the knees, it isn't," Miroku replied in his most charming manner. Unbuckling her belt, he looked up at her briefly before removing the leggings and pulling the pants off of her. "When Buddha created beauty and had woman in mind, he was thinking of you," Miroku swore and kissed each one of her scars before returning to his primary concern, he moved his kisses up her legs until reaching his desired location. 'I hope I shock her.' He grinned.

Sango glared down at him when she saw what he had in mind. Biting her tongue to keep from saying anything, Sango closed her legs right on his neck before suddenly rolling over on her side, effectively pining Miroku where he was: caught at her knees in a choke-hold. She sat up, even though she was on her side. She looked mad, but her voice was gentle. "Don't do it."

"You agreed to letting me pleasure you," Miroku replied, without even a choking sound marring his voice. She had amazing thighs, he thought in a daze. God, he would die if she did this while they were together in a more appropriate way. It could give a whole new dimension to sex.

Taking a deep breath, he rolled her over again and grinned. "Sango, I'm your match," Miroku reminded her as he caught her in a fierce embrace.

She let herself be caught, looking at him eye to eye, instead using her words to egg him on. Or was it egg herself on? If Miroku was to be believed, he was just as starved for intimacy as she was. "You're right. You are my match. You're my arch-nemesis."

"I am?" Miroku laughed and began wiggling his fingers inside her teasingly. "Then let's call it a truce."

Her body shuddered with pleasure and she collapsed back on the bed, letting out a little moan. "Fuck the truce. I think I surrender."

Miroku grinned. How apt a description on her behalf. That was exactly what he was dying to do. "Good. That means I can do everything I want to you," Miroku boasted proudly, before going on with his business. His agenda was quite clearly to make her scream with pleasure until she really surrendered.

XX

It was hours later that he wondered when he would burst. Peeling himself away from her, he licked his fingers and grinned an intimate lovers' smile at her. She looked beautiful with sweat matted hair over her forehead. "God, you are exquisite."

Feeling like she was so tired she'd never be well rested again, Sango sat up a little bit, looking at him extremely untrustingly, given exactly what they had been doing. She licked her lips. They felt dry, but they were red and swollen-looking from kissing. Studying him a moment, watching his face fall nervously, she laughed at him and leaned back, stretching out on the bed and yawning. "You confuse me sometime, you know, with your words."

"How so?" Miroku asked laying beside her on the mattress, with his outstretched arm an offer in the stead of the pillow. Which was conveniently under her hips. "You know, I love the view of your body from here. It must be amazing being you and looking down at yourself everyday." Miroku grinned and reached for the blanket to cover her. "It's getting cold, and I don't want you sick," Miroku explained then looked down at himself and swallowed. "And... You are too great a temptation."

Sango peered down at the fold in the sheets, which wasn't really a fold in the sheets. His body was nice and warm, which was hardly what she wanted at the moment, given the fact that her body felt warm to the touch, but it was more than nice. She winced a little as she closed her legs, rolling over on her side to look at him. "How in the world did you learn to… you know…" She said, gesturing with her finger.

"Shhh..." Miroku whispered kissing the top of her head. "Don't over think things. Just enjoy-" Miroku paused when he felt her shudder. "Damn you," he muttered sweetly. "You are still enjoying yourself. Aren't you?"

Miroku smiled and snuggled her close. "No... I mean, I'm touched and Buddha... I would love that." He closed his eyes calling for self control for the untold millionth time that evening. "But, I wanted this to be about you," Miroku explained.

She smiled at him and lowered her blushing face, holding him closer as well, her fingertips drawing little pictures on the small of his back. She buried her smile against his neck, breathing in deeply. Miroku may have spent time with demons, but even Sango couldn't pick up on those scents now. She entwined her legs with his, and the voice in her head that had yelled at her or being so stupid through the entire thing continued to rant, and to be ignored. "How did you learn so sound so poetic?" she yawned.

"I speak what is on my mind when I'm with you," Miroku told her softly, cuddling her closer and tucking the blanket around her. "Go to sleep, Sango. I'll be here when you wake up."

"But…" Was he trying to get her to go to bed? Were her questions annoying? Did he not want to talk? Was he not a talker? She hissed fiercely in her mind. 'Shut up! When did these things mean anything? Just, stop thinking for once and go back to being stoic! Wipe that stupid smile off your face, Sango! You're a general, and he's a spy. Stop being so goddamn stupid!' Her words hurt her, but she obeyed them, more or less. "You better be, thief."

Miroku snuggled close to her, as though she was his security blanket. "Always." He promised and kissed her cheek gently. "Good night, Sango." Miroku whispered in her ear, wishing he could do that every night.

She sighed, this time with something other than physical indulgences. Sango closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against his chest and listening to his heart beat. "Good night. Sweet dreams," she sighed, already asleep.