Mocha Latte

-Kitty

Chapter 7: The sounds of peace


There was very little warning when the front door burst open and a tall, ponytailed woman strolled in. For the briefest of pauses, they both froze, staring stiffly at each other before everything happened at once.

"You!" she shouted, drawing a sword out of nowhere and lunging toward him.

He was caught in a dilemma, still cradling the two surviving rabbits in one hand, rather securely settled in the couch and the other hand tipping the last dribbles of beef stew into his lap. His instincts kicked into high gear, sending a buzz of adrenaline tingling through his veins. He leapt up from the couch just as the intruder slashed through the sofa he'd just been lounging on. The studio apartment was cramped and provided very little landing space and so he found himself slamming against an old bookshelf along the wall, decorative pottery and picture frames clattering to the ground and shattering to pieces. The apartment's owner dashed out of the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand and dusted with flour.

"What th-," she cut herself off as she took in the scene. Him snarling from a crouched position near the door, while the new girl stood sturdily on the abused couch, sword raised and prepared to swing again.

"Sango!" she exclaimed, rushing in between them and raising her arms in a defensive gesture, "For pity's sake!"

The Sango woman flipped quickly to glare at the figure now shielding him with her own body. It was the strangest mix of emotions he felt to stare up at her back, slowly coming to the realization that she had acted without thinking, and automatically stepped up in his defense against a deadly weapon.

"Another one, Kagome?!" the armed woman groaned with exasperation, "You realize that's my latest assignment, right?"

'Kagome… So that's her name,' he mused absently, before flinching and growling in reaction to seeing the gleaming blade pointed down at him.

"In this apartment, he's my guest," Kagome stated flatly, her voice steely and serious. There was a tense silence while both girls glared stubbornly at each other, before Sango blinked and sighed, lowering her naked blade. Kagome then seemed to deem the crisis dealt with because her stance loosened and she stepped toward Sango to carelessly tap the sword with her wooden spoon, showering a little dusting of flour onto the damaged couch.

"Put that stupid thing away and sit down," she said, her voice annoyed, her expression resigned, "My poor couch…"

Sango walked stiffly past him as he continued to snarl at her. Kagome clunked him lightly on the head, startling him out of his posturing. It was a very disquieting thing, how she was able to approach him and strike him so easily. He was usually far more aware of his surroundings. That she could draw so close, close enough to knock him in the head, was a concerning development for him.

"That's enough from you," Kagome admonished him before turning back to the kitchen. The silence that followed was excruciating in its tenseness as Sango glared daggers at him, setting down her sword in the umbrella stand with a sharp clang. His muscles contracted painfully as he maintained in stone still position, half fleeing, half preparing to defend himself. The tension stretched tersely in the air while Kagome fussed with whatever it was she was working on in the kitchen, ultimately emerging again, with a slight sheen of sweat of her brow.

"So," she said with a sigh, "What's up?"

Sango cast a sidelong glance his way, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle as they stood on end. She appeared to roll her eyes before shrugging and turning her attention to the strange young woman hosting them.

"Nothing really," she replied, casually reaching into the closet near the door, reemerging with a dustpan and small hand broom. She set to work clearing the shattered pottery while continuing, the shard tinkling musically in the background. "Miroku's not too pleased about this latest assignment. Our client is very eager to have this case resolved as quickly and discreetly as possible."

Kagome snorted as she bent over to inspect the gash in her couch. Meanwhile, he retained his stiff, ready to flee position near the doorway, a clawed hand still pressing the two tiny breathing warmths against his chest. When the apartment owner turned towards him, he twitched unconsciously, uneasy in the presence of one he recognized as a threat.

"Don't worry," Kagome said to him, catching his eye and somehow spellbinding him in her gaze, "Nothing's gonna happen to you while you're in my home."

Sango, who by now had seated herself comfortably on Kagome's bed, snorted deliberately, daring the young woman to keep her promise.

"Relax," Kagome insisted, reaching down to tug at his elbow, "Come sit down, you're making me nervous."

He was surprised when his lungs began to burn, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. And when her fingers touched his arm, there was a flood of sensation that his stressed and suspicious mind could not process. Perhaps his astonishment with his own predicament numbing his brain was what allowed the young woman to lead him back to the couch, the undamaged side, and press him back down into the cushions. Before she straightened back up, he caught scent of a warm sweetness in her hair and that little sensory jolt helped return the gears in his head into motion. She stared softly down at him, a tender hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Keep those little guys warm," she said quietly, "I'll get you another set of pants as soon as I'm done with the cookies."

Kagome once again disappeared into her kitchen, leaving him alone with his assassin and he shifted uncomfortably. Sango's eyes were on him, a direct stare that was masked and betrayed nothing of her thoughts, whether or not she planned to attack him again, regardless of what Kagome had promised. A creaky rattle of the old oven door opening and closing, and then Sango blinked, turning to Kagome as the young woman once again emerged.

"So," she said leadingly, "How'd you two meet?"

Kagome laughed easily, amused by Sango's insinuating tone. She pulled out a soft fleecy pair of pants from the closet and handed it to him. Without a care in the world, she plunked down on the damaged side of the couch beside him, the vanilla and sugar in her scent wafting out to imbue the room. He had to quell a shiver as her arm brushed close to his, the fine hairs on his skin trembling at her proximity.

"You were so kind as to practically drop him at my feet," she answered, extending her hands to him, gesturing toward to sleeping rabbits. She nodded toward the bathroom cradling the two breathing fur balls in her arms. Stiffly, he moved to get up, confused by her blatant carefree demeanor. He stood in the bathroom for several seconds, a swelling in his chest that made his skin feel too tight. What a strange, incongruous setting he was finding himself in, lounging on a couch across from a woman who'd nearly killed him, and beside a woman who'd saved him. He could hear fluttery chatter from the other side of the door, relaxed and casual, somehow soothing in the way their voices rose and fell. He stared down at the material in his arms. It was soft and plush, with a warm inviting scent just like the rest of the cozy apartment. He couldn't help himself and his thumb stroked the fabric, the fidgety, outward movement a manifestation of the conflicting emotions inside of him.

By the time he'd re-emerged, a quiet serenity had descended on the apartment. Sango leaned against the wall, still seated on Kagome's bed, comfortably making herself at home and half way through a book that had appeared out of nowhere. Kagome smiled warmly at him, patting the cushion beside her and immediately deposited the rabbit bundle back into his hands just as a timer dinged in the kitchen.

"Perfect timing!" She said, winking at him as she stood.

What followed was a gush of delicious, warm, sweet scent that billowed out into the main room. Despite a belly full of savory beef stew, he felt himself salivate in reaction to the scent of vanilla and nutmeg and chocolate. A cough from across the room alerted him and he looked up to spot Sango staring at him again. He stiffen instantly, prepared from some kind of offensive but she just shrugged at him.

"Kagome bakes a mean cookie," she said, "It's why I'm here every Sunday."

"Aw, thanks Sango," Kagome cooed, returning with a plate full of goodies in her hands. She deposited the steaming platter of deliciousness on the coffee table and plunked back down next to him.

"Help yourself," she said, before reaching behind the couch and pulling out a pair of sticks connected by wire. His golden eyes frowned, staring curiously at the thin clicking objects. A fluffy, blue ball of yarn was unceremoniously tossed into his lap and he jumped in surprise.

"Relax," Kagome told him again, "And help me keep that from getting tangled up."

Silence followed, a noisy silence. Sango filled up a plate of the freshly baked cookies and returned to lounging on the bed. She crunched away happily, suddenly ignoring his presence despite having tried to kill him just minutes ago. Beside him, Kagome was embroiled in her own little task, the clickity clack of her knitting needles tapping rhythmically against each other as she worked. He was rubbish at managing the yarn ball and the young woman eventually took it from him with a laugh, setting it aside and handling it herself. The flutter of a page turning caught his attention as Sango read. And even deeper, the pitter patter of the tiny heart beats in his hands, the soft shuffling of Kagome's thickly socked feet as she shifted, while outside, the rain continued to drip and drop lightly against the window. His mind wandered idly without him realizing it, drifting from sound to sound, absorbing the strange, yet natural peace that settled into him, penetrating even his bones. His limbs suddenly felt heavy and before he could even begin to worry over being drugged or entranced, his eyes fluttered as he heaved a deep sigh, only absently registering the figure beside him as she shifted, sinking down one side of the cushions so that his head surrendered to the force of gravity. A soft, warm darkness embraced him before he was even aware of the tickle of her hair as it fell against his cheeks, her sweater clad shoulders welcoming as he leaned his weight against her. His dreams were gentle, quiet things, an embrace so tender and endearing, he felt it pierce through his heart with a powerful bittersweet taste. But then careful, gentle fingers brushed against his cheeks, and swept all evidence of his pain away.


A/N: Hey folks! So, I was totally intending up update sooner but I've been away attending my first Indian wedding… and those things are no joke! I'm exhausted! I totally thought I'd be able to write on the plane but I ended up sleeping pretty much the entire way back! Haha…. Anyways, hope you guys like this little dribble. I promise I'll be updating Forever Home in the next week or two with an epilogue (finally!) and then may go into hibernation figuring what the next big project will be :P

Thanks for reading and definitely let me know what you think!

Happy New Years everybody!