White Dogs: Perversity.
Rating: PG-13. R, to be safe for some parts.
Pairing: Sess/Kag… err, well, not quite yet. The two aren't being willing participants. Though, Sesshy seems interested.
Song-fic: Heh. No, not this one.
Disclaimer: ::rolls eyes upward.:: Oh, that I were the one who had created Inuyasha that I had given life to Sesshoumaru. But alas, I cannot claim anything at all. For I was not the one to do the creating merely the one to envy the creator. Translation: I own..::checks stock:: two pieces of lint and a monkey. Nothing more. I wonder where the third piece of lint went to?…::we switch scenes to see a piece of lint, obviously the runaway one, having a snog-fest with a dust bunny.:: …!!!::pales:: I didn't want to know that bad!!
Summary: Kagome goes and hurts herself again, Sesshoumaru cleans up the mess and Shippou's boat is shot right out of the water. So much for big plans.
Genre: Everything left of the middle. But count on some comical relief. I can't write a good, complete uninterrupted angst-drama to save my sorry existence.
A.N.: Ack! Kill me with a brick, but this chapter was a stubborn one. I hit a bit of a rut with it. Bah, that and I was thinking up new stories and I'm going to start an AU Sess/Kag one shot. A long one. Or maybe a chapter story. But I like what I've started on it. It's in my head. When your reading this chapter you'll notice that Sesshoumaru has a burst of inspiration and creates a tale in his mind. It's a lot like what I am able to do. So there's my mentality for you. I'll let you all know when I'm going to post the new story. I was working on it at the same time I'm working on this chapter so that's another reason why it took so long. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Inspiration is a bloody fickle little wanker. And god, this chapter sucks like whoa. ::buries herself in complete shame:: And so short…Ugh.
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Do not meddle in the affairs of Demon Lords, for you are crunchy and taste splendid with A1 steak sauce. - ::coughs:: SilverQuick.
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Perverse: Marked by a disposition to oppose and contradict. Resistance to guidance or discipline. Marked by immorality; deviation from what is good, right or proper.
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Chapter Ten: A Little Less Enthusiasm, Please.
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Once long ago, Sesshoumaru had wanted to kill the fragile creature in his arms. In fact, had you even given word to him that he'd one day be holding her against his heart it would have disgusted him to no end before he went all Kung Fu on your sorry excuse for an existence.
Now, he wished nothing more then to figure her out, solve her mystery then perhaps claim her. Maybe. But, he knew he would never be able to own her. She was too fierce in her sense of self to allow anyone to own her. Perhaps if it was a mutual affair then maybe…
Then again, there was a saying: Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me. Perhaps the one fooling her had been love, but nonetheless, he doubted she'd allow herself to play the fool a second time.
He knew that was why she left the hanyou. From what little he'd gleaned from Shippou and his own observations of her he figured she was in love with the mutt but the foolish prick was too busy playing the love struck pup(pun intended) to a necrophiliac to notice the love she offered him. It must have driven her insane to know she was worth less than dirt in his eyes, again, pun intended. Probably disgusted her as well, so she left him. A wise decision in Sesshoumaru's eyes. Clever girl. Five hundred years ago he would have killed that thought on sight. Three hundred would have left him with a funny taste in his mouth. One hundred and he'd have been amused.
However, now…
The oddly familiar weight of the girl against his chest and in his hold was a marvel too him. Said weight was barely even there, she was so very light he felt little resistance. That she trusted him too was a novel thing to him. Rarely had anyone ever trusted him. Barely even a handful and one of them had passed away long ago. Perhaps that was part of it. This Kagome brought to him memories of Rin; she reminded him of his young human ward a great deal. The fearless, cheerful, and wild lust for life. Even hidden by a heart's pain as it was he could still sense it deep inside of this frail creature.
He snorted when she poked him with her elbow as she crossed her arms over her chest gingerly careful of her belly, muttering something about pompous wind-bags who think they owned the world simply because they wrote a few books and such. Now that his train of thought had crashed and all…
Those amazing blue orbs flashed their irritation at him, before she jabbed him again, "Put me down. I am not a cripple you know."
Another snort, "Indeed."
Jab. He nearly winced at the force of it. She was going to hurt herself if she kept that up. He'd only end up with a little red area and then it be gone in a matter of seconds. As it was, the action was still irritating.
" I want to walk the rest of the way at least. Nothing will happen." For some strange reason she pouted. And for an even stranger reason, Sesshoumaru found himself oddly enchanted by the curve of plump pastel flesh she was presenting him. How oddly tempting.
Finally, the stream of sunlight reached out to them and engulfed them, causing both of their pupils to dilate in quick response to the abrupt brightness compared to the shadows they'd just walked through.
Sesshoumaru eyed the rumpled sheets of the bed and gauged the distance between him and the piece of furniture. It was a short enough; she could handle it.
"Very well," he muttered, resigned, and let her legs swing from right his arm so that she was standing, his other arm behind her back in order to support her should she fall. On the other hand, he was more then positive that she'd be damned if she was going to even so much as stumble in front of him. Prideful little thing, he mused as she tottered towards the bed in baby-like steps, arms slightly lifted from her sides to keep the delicate balance of her vertical weight. Her back remained ram-rod straight however. How admirable.
It was odd also, the way she moved. Like a prima ballerina: all flowing motions and dance-like steps. He'd noticed that when he first met her. Now however; Prima ballerina with one too many tequila shot's in her system was more suited to her. What would happen if he put her on a balance beam and told her to walk it?
His lips twitched, amused by the vivid mental image his imagination had conjured. Her walking then falling right into his waiting arms… Inspiration took the idea and ran with it, swiftly creating a plotline to it, and then creating characters. Since he was a morbid author it supplied a horror touch to it, something of a dark tale with a lacing of love. A mystery. Fantasy and Sci-fi intertwined in his mind, dancing into the story line perfectly. The whole process was only so long and now all that was left to do was write it and bring the characters to life in the pages of a crisp, musky book.
Sesshoumaru smirked again, filing this new tale away on the back burner allowing it to age like a fine wine. It would most likely be his next best seller. But then, weren't they all? Vanity, a little voice cautioned. Watch it.
The sore ache of her side was enough to make her wince. It felt like nothing more then a certain pain during those lovely few days every woman has monthly, only quite a sum stronger. And a little higher. But who wanted to get technical? She didn't. It hurt and that was that.
Hobbling over to the bed, carefully, she kept her chin up parallel to the floor quite aware of the burning sensation of Hitori's eyes against her back. Oh how she wanted to turn around and smirk at him in such a way that said 'Look Ma, no helping hands or anything.' But just knew that is she did her luck (what with it's sick twisted humor) would just up and keel over on her and she'd end up flat on her face.
No thanks, she chose baby steps. Much better then rug burn on her nose and cheeks any day. Hitori would most likely be gentlemanly and congenial about it, polite and helpful; he would help her to her feet. But the niggling thought that he was laughing his arse off on the inside would make her all huffy and such. It wouldn't be pretty. She could tolerate a person laughing out right at her for a klutz attack but she just couldn't stand it if someone was laughing on the inside.
Well…she would still get annoyed either way, but really. Why bother being polite about it if you were thinking it anyways.. err, headache.Thankfully, the bed was right in front of her. Soft and inviting. It was about here that the floor did a little wave motion and sent Kagome's equilibrium skittering. This must be bloody interesting, she though dourly as she slipped to the floor at the edge of the bed, legs feeling acutely like jelly, watching me make a fool of myself like this. I should have let him carry me. And I was so close.
Oh, her mind was fuzzy, felt like cotton had been stuffed in there; as though she's skipped several days of sleep and she felt so weak. Did I really loose that much blood?
Two steel bands twined around her gently and lifted her into the air giving her just enough time to think Hitori. So warm and then the fuzzy darkness became her world. Safe now. Was her last conscious thought.
Sesshoumaru shook his pale haired head in admonishment that went unseen by the girl he settled her on the crumpled bed once more. He took note of her pale, clammy skin. She'd gone into shock then. He knew that if he removed her bandages he'd find the wound reopened and the healing flesh to have torn again. His senses had picked up the scent of her blood.
As had Shippou's he was certain. Speaking of Shippou, that cunning gleam in the boy's eyes had Sesshoumaru's hackles up. Demented parent trap would most likely be only the half of it. Still such a child. Would that fox ever grow up? Alas, Sesshoumaru knew that it wasn't in a kitsune's nature to be anything but what they were. And what they were was mischievous and cunning to that last bone marrow cell.
He filed the thought away, noting to himself to keep a close eye upon the young kit and make sure to keep the door to his study closed under magical lock and key.
That put aside, Sesshoumaru's fingers made quick work of the buttons on the lower region of his patients dress shirt, intent with changing her bandages once more. One by one the blouse fell open, allowing him a morbid view of bright, deep crimson stained white gauze. So he had been correct in his assessment of her condition.
He set to work, one claw sliding out in length to sever the strands of gossamer crimson and snow white careful of he peach pale skin that it covered. One glance over confirmed his suspicions even further. The stubborn little thing had torn any scar tissue she'd developed when she'd, no doubt, flung herself into Shippou's arms.
The stirrings of something suspicious inside his chest cavity made him pause his work, fingers grazing the warm flesh they hovered over. He'd felt this feeling once long before. When his father had given Inuyasha the Tetsusaiga, he'd burned with it. And now he smoldered inside with it once more, the sizzling feeling foreign in its familiarity.
Pale brows furrowed, Sesshoumaru wondered why he now felt this odd feeling again after so long and for a mere human at that. Given, he'd come to respect most humans on some mediocre level, but nonetheless, he knew not why he was caught in the stirrings of this tainted feeling.
A displeased look settled in his oddly hued eyes as he pressed the thoughts to the posterior of his mind and returned to his more important task; bandaging the girl's wound again. He dealt with her much the same way he had the first night, as he had when she'd been bleeding all over his marble coffee table, out cold.
Only this time, there was a great bit more gentility to the motions, though they were, all the same, ginger. And far more impersonal then they had first been. He wished to distance himself from the charming creature in order to be able to better view this new development- to dissect his odd impulses as of late.
Perhaps gain a new perspective of this whole ironic affair.
Shippou was fiddling with his leaf when Sesshoumaru drifted back into the kitchen, bloodied scrap gauze in hand and a somewhat distracted look on his pale face. The grin that fought to take his lips captive made Shippou duck his head and cough into his hand. He continued muddling with the leaf a moment longer, reigning in the giddiness he was experiencing fully certain Sesshoumaru was going to dip into his mind to read his thoughts.
Oh dear. Better get rid of the evidence. Shippou started thinking other things, mainly about how Kagome had faired without him over the years and such the like. He focused on that sole idea and started picking at it with little mercy and a good thing too. For he felt that faint tingling sensation at the base of his head that spoke of the taiyoukai's little search before the feeling passed and the tingling faded away.
He restrained himself from gushing a sigh of relief and waited with baited breath for any clue or reaction on the older demons part that would signify his plan had been discovered.
There was nothing but the sound of rushing water and the clinking of tea cups and other dishes as they were washed.
Shippou's leaf green eyes wondered to the waste bin and the crimson blotched white scraps, then skittered back to his own empty tea cup. He cleared his throat, "So-"
But the sharp tone of Sesshoumaru's bored voice sliced through his weak beginning and like a flame burned the remains to a charred crisp.
"Don't even think about it." The water continued running.
The younger youkai gulped and gave a nervous chuckle as he sank spinelessly into his chair, feeling the wooden bars dig into his back as he did so. Oh boy. Obviously, he wasn't as smooth as he thought he was. That hurt. A lot. Ouch.
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