Summary:

Author's musings:

Triggers/Warnings:

Inspiration/Prompt:

All in all, there could be worse places to be stuck.

Taisho was smart enough to have all his cupboards and the fridge fully stocked, so even if they did get snowed in, they wouldn't starve. He also had more than one generator, and an ample supply of firewood.

Which begged the question, why was Inuyasha so worried about him in the first place?

Kagome chewed on her lip as she stirred a large pot of stew. She'd managed to get a few hours of sleep in but waking up every hour to check on him made it feel like she hadn't slept at all. Fatigue continued to gnaw at her—she probably had huge circles under her eyes but was purposefully avoiding the mirror—but she knew that once he finally woke up for good, he'd require something more than just water.

She'd been snacking on the ingredients she'd chosen for the stew, but the low rumbling of her stomach told her she needed something heartier as well. Testing the mixture, she added a few more spices, then left it to simmer, returning to her charge.

He hadn't moved from where she'd initially dragged him to, only groaning in his sleep every time she'd checked on him, which she considered a good thing. It meant he hadn't put himself into a coma. Or worse.

Sitting beside him on her makeshift bed, she rested her chin on her palm. He was breathing normally, and his head had stopped bleeding in the last few hours. She'd had to use one of the freeze packs to slow it down, and reduce the swelling, but his overall temperature hadn't risen, so she wasn't worried about infection.

"You'll probably have a bitch of a headache when you wake up, though," she mused aloud. "Which I'm sure you'll blame on me." Apart from keeping him alive, Kagome was kind of enjoying her time in the cabin. The library was gearing up for a significant charity event, which had left the entire staff's nerves frayed, so she'd called in some temps and forced everyone to take the week off.

Including herself.

Everything was prepared, and they'd just been running around in circles micromanaging the same things over and over, so when she'd announced the approved vacation time, everyone had sighed in relief.

Providing books for underprivileged schools was its own reward, but Kagome never did anything small. The event was spread out over a few days, with food, prizes, and activities for the kids and their families. One of their investors had even managed to persuade a few authors to come in and read their own books. One of which she was secretly excited to meet herself.

Kimiko Fujiko was both an author and illustrator, spinning tales of female empowerment through reimagined fairytales. The princess didn't wait around singing wistful songs of missed opportunities; she took hold of her destiny, often rescuing the prince in the process.

The parallels between the series and her current predicament were startling, and she looked at Taisho with a snort. "You're not a prince, you're the dragon. Or at least a very pissy guard dog."

A soft grunt preceded him trying to roll over, eyes fluttering, and she raised an eyebrow. "Have you joined the land of the living?"

He winced, scrunching his eyes shut before opening them again, his gaze much more focused. "What happened?" His hand raised to touch his head, but Kagome quickly intercepted, holding him down.

"You decided to make out with the only rock within a five-kilometre radius and knocked yourself unconscious." She glared at him when he tried to shake loose of her grip. "Don't touch it. I had to sew you up."

His eyes hardened, but he didn't resist. "Where are we?"

"In your cabin. You know, you should really invest in a ramp instead of stairs."

He gave her an incredulous look, trying to sit up again. "You brought me back here yourself?"

She'd have smacked him if he hadn't currently been sporting an open wound on his forehead. "Do you see anyone else around?"

"Why?"

Confusion was followed by umbrage. "What do you mean why? I'm not so heartless that I would leave you out there—" She yelped as she fell forward, Taisho having grabbed her arm, pulling her off balance.

"Are you injured? Do you require medical aid?"

There was genuine concern in his voice, but she chalked it up to the possible concussion. Laying a hand on his chest, she gave him a reassuring pat. "I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises."

He looked skeptical. "You are sure?"

She tugged at his grip, idly wondering how he was still so strong after such a severe head injury, then sat up. "I'm sure." The proximity had lessened, but the intensity of his stare had not, and Kagome swallowed slowly. He hadn't let go of her wrist, and his touch burned.

Silence stretched between them as she struggled for something to say. Where was his scathing quip? His pointed glare? The anger and resentment that usually fuelled her were lost in a sea of fretful amber, and Kagome felt herself floundering.

"I'll go make you some tea," she said finally, pulling her hand away. "I made some stew, but it might be better to stick to clear liquids first." He didn't respond, but she felt his eyes on her the entire way back to the kitchen.

Heart hammering, she started looking through cupboards, having promptly forgotten where everything was. It took her a few minutes, and a lot of slamming of cupboard doors, before she located the tea.

On the top shelf.

Sighing, she lifted herself onto the counter, her fingers brushing the bottom of the container as she silently cursed his large stature and his need to actually use the top shelf. She'd almost reached it when the lid on the stew shifted, startling her.

Kagome yelped as she fell backwards, bracing herself for another set of bruises but landing against hardened muscle instead.

She should've thanked him, especially with how fast he got to her, but the gratitude dissipated when she looked up and found blood trickling from his wound.

"What the hell are you doing up?" she said, scrambling out of his arms. "You almost cracked your head open! You need to—"

"It is of no consequence."

She crossed her arms, blue eyes blazing. "Do you have training in first aid?"

A pale eyebrow raised. "No."

"Experience with treating head wounds?"

"No."

"Then you don't get a vote!" She grabbed his shirt and dragged him to the table in the corner of the kitchen. Forcing him into one of the chairs, she poked her best librarian finger in his face. "Don't move," then she retrieved the first aid kit.

If he'd undone all her hard work just to show off his innate machoism, she'd rip his stitches out so she could sew him up again while he was conscious.

To his credit, he hadn't moved from the chair when she returned, and she quickly pulled out disinfectant and gauze, managing to clean up the blood before it got in his hair.

"You need to take it easy. The stitches are still fresh." She taped the gauze to his forehead, then stepped back. "Now that you're awake, you can take some ibuprofen. You probably have a headache." She reached for the kit but was intercepted by his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

The touch was so gentle that Kagome couldn't find it in her to protest. Or pull away. His thumb stroked her pulse point as golden eyes watched her with such an intensity that her ears began to buzz.

Had it always been so warm in here?

"Thank you."

The words were so foreign that it took her a moment to realize he'd even said them. He'd never thanked her for anything in his life.

She squared her shoulders. "Maybe next time you'll think twice about getting drunk by yourself in the middle of a storm," she chided, remembering how he'd swayed through the trees. "You probably would've—"

"I have never been inebriated in my life."

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt her cheeks grow warm, words like 'compassionate heart' wafting through her mind. "B-But—"

"You are welcome to search the cabin. You will find nothing."

She didn't want to. She didn't want to think about the possibility that he'd said those things while completely sober—that he'd said them by choice.

"W-Why?" She wasn't sure which question she was asking, but she grappled for answers all the same.

He surprised her again by looking away. "I have never seen the point in polluting my system for a momentary high. It is a waste of time, money, and control."

"Guess we actually have something in common." It was an innocuous enough statement, but the words hung between them, causing another shift in their relationship as it cemented the fact that she didn't know Taisho at all.

She'd thought for sure that a high-ranking businessman like himself would be used to alcohol, either as a vice or an escape, and she wondered what other assumptions she'd made about him.

She thought about their current predicament and chuckled. "Inuyasha probably drinks enough for the two of you, anyway."

He grinned, golden eyes dancing as he relaxed and leaned back in his chair. Gone were the severe lines and hateful sneer she was used to, in their place a roguish smile that softened his features and made him look almost human.

Kagome felt her heart flutter.

Oh.

Oh no.