Disclaimer – Not mine.

#18 – Happily Ever After

She was drunk. Not exceedingly so, but with enough time it would soon become a matter of concern. He hadn't been to too many weddings in the past but he was quite sure it wasn't common practice to get blissfully drunk during the progression of the reception.

Then again, she was never one to hold propriety in very high regard.

He couldn't be sure if anyone else had taken notice of this, but it was painfully obvious to him.

Then again, to the common observer, it may have been hard to tell how inebriated she actually was. By nature she was a very outgoing person - lively, bubbly, relatively pleasant to be around unless she was pissed at you. She was thoughtful and kind, and she almost always had a smile for everyone she happened to come across.

However, beneath the bubbly façade was an entirely different woman - there was a deep and sorrowful pain that she kept carefully concealed beneath the cheers and smiles, one that was only noticeable to those who knew its source.

Granted even some of those who knew its source were still unaware of how deep the pain actually ran.

He paused in his thoughts, watching her slim hand creep across the table - her goal, his champagne glass. With a slight frown he moved it further out of her reach, earning a bleary pout.

"Drink yourself stupid if you must, but I refuse to accept any responsibility for the repercussions sure to follow."

She snorted, retreating back to the half-empty - huh, so he was a pessimist after all - glass flute in front of her. "You're no fun at all."

"So I've been told." He glanced away momentarily. "You didn't bring an escort?"

She blinked, surprised at the question. Flushing in embarrassment she looked down, taking another sip from her champagne.

With her attention on her liquid crutch, he took the moment to study her features. It was a simple question; what did she have to be embarrassed about? She was plain in comparison to the many - many - women he had come to know, true, but dressing her up in unnecessary makeup and elaborate clothing would hardly do her justice. She had a sort of charm, a natural beauty… he'd never admit to it out loud of course, but there was just something about her that was… attractive. Judging by the looks she had received all throughout the ceremony, he was not the only person to think so.

But the sadness in her eyes… despite the front she put up, it was almost painful to be near her.

"I guess I just didn't see the point of bringing one." she sighed. She cast a lingering glance at the bride and groom. They made quite the pair, he nervous and flustered while trying to maintain his tough-guy exterior, she quiet, reserved and demure - the perfect bride and wife-to-be.

"It was hard enough just showing up." Her eyes wavered before she took a deep gulp from her champagne, gesturing to a passing waiter for a refill. When she turned to him again, the cheerful mask was once again in place. "So, howzabout you? Where's your escort?"

He studied her briefly. "You have regrets?"

She blinked again, the mask slipping momentarily. "I…" She struggled for words before giving him a playful poke in the shoulder. He quirked an eyebrow at this; normally she wasn't so… physical was hardly the word he would have liked to choose, but… "You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine."

She frowned, whether it was at his last statement or his insistence he wasn't sure. "I asked first."

"Perhaps I wasn't sure about coming as well."

Snorting again, she grinned at the waiter as he set down another full glass in front of her. He quickly simpered away after receiving an icy look form the man seated beside her.

"I suppose I can accept that," she replied offhandedly. "Although you're hardly in the same boat I am."

"And what boat would that be?"

She took a sip from her glass. "That's a secret."

This time he paused, folding his arms across his finely tailored suit jacket. "You're jealous?"

She choked slightly, looking up at him in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"You regret what you lost." he replied. "What was taken from you…" He gaze went to the bride and groom who were talking animatedly with some guests at the head table - well, the groom was at least. The bride merely sat and inclined her head, responding softly to whatever question or comment was directed her way. Not once did she smile.

He found his gaze wandering from her to the woman beside him. So he preferred doll for a wife, did he? The fool.

"It's not so much what I lost…" Her voice startled him. It held a sad, wistful tone; the tone of one who was sad over the lot dealt them, but held no bitterness to those who caused their misfortune.

By God, the woman was either a fool, a saint or both; he couldn't be sure.

"I see him… and I see how happy he is, and I sometimes wonder why it wasn't me who was able to make him that way." A ghost of a smile was present on her face. "But then I realize that he's happy… and in the end that's all that really matters."

Well, that cinched it - the woman was a saint – a ridiculously, foolish, loving, compassionate, beautiful saint.

"Ladies and Gentleman... the newlyweds will now share their first dance as husband and wife."

The band struck up and the lights overhead dimmed. A spotlight appeared on the dance floor and couples migrated towards outwards, creating a path for the newlyweds to the center of the room...

The two remained seated at their little table, surveying the event - one with wistful pride, the other with mild contempt.

"I only wish..." He turned his head back to her. She flushed once again; he once again noted how attractive it made her look.

"Yes…?"

"I only wish... that I'll be that happy someday."

'Oh hell...' Ignoring the puzzled look she sent him, he rose from his seat, extending his hand out to her. For a few moments she only stared at him in bewilderment.

"If you're too drunk to stand, let me know now so I can sit back down."

She blinked again and realizing his intent she blushed furiously before resting her hand in his. There was no ignoring the feeling the rush through him as their hands made contact. His expression was able to conceal it only until she let out a sigh, resting her head against his shoulder as they swayed together in tune with the music.

"Just for your information..." He stared down at the crown of her head, perplexed as to why he hadn't asked her to move it yet. "I'm not as drunk as you think I am."

'Oh hell...' Pulling his gaze from her, he looked up to see the groom studying them with a surprised, yet put out glare. Without blinking, he met the groom's glare with one of his own. What right did he have to be angry? He'd given up all claims the moment the walked down the aisle.

Was he taking that claim now? No… that was ridiculous... wasn't it?

"Kagome," She glanced up at him, her face flushed from alcohol... or was it? "You will be happy again." Saints are good people who became martyrs. I will not permit this to happen to you.

She smiled and returned her head to his shoulder. It felt… right.

"Thank you," she replied. "Sesshoumaru-sama."

End

Author's Notes - It's strange… although I consider myself to be a die-hard InuxKag fan, I find myself enjoying the SessxKag pairing more and more. I've also been reading Sandra E's 'Chasing Methusalah, which I have also been enjoying very much.

As a matter of fact, when I wrote this fic, I had considered making it MirokuxKagome, but the muses insisted it be Sesshomaru instead.

Wufei – He and I have much in common.

Ah yes, the gian Redwood that is implanted firmly up your anal cavity…

Wufei - .

:grins: Remember the 3 R's, minna!