Sesshomaru was back to being a miserable asshole when Monday rolled around. The week Rin spent with Sango had been quiet–blissful even—because Sesshomaru called out every single beautiful day, claiming that he was either suffering a migraine or that he was having an easier time getting everything done while working from home. Now he was back, just as pristine as ever and somehow seven times more insufferable. He accused her of slacking off in his absence when one of his meetings bled into another— because his client was long-winded— and moaned about how impossible it was to find good help at every blessed turn. And Sango tried desperately to take it personally. If she was upset then maybe she wouldn't have to face the butterflies being set loose in her stomach. She wouldn't be enraptured every time her eyes left her desk, and she caught him stretching for a new file. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to stop herself from staring when his shirt strained against his too broad shoulders or when his shimmering, silvery hair caught the daylight.

There was nothing more humiliating than the way his hand came to delicately block out her scent as she came to drop off the file he sent her to collect from the shelf. A dog's nose couldn't be fooled, and there was no amount of squeezing her thighs together that could take away the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Coffee run," he demanded. "Black."

The way she ran out of there, almost forgetting his card as she rushed for the door, would give Kagome a good laugh when she recounted this humiliating encounter later on. This was all Kagome's fault anyway. She wanted revenge for the date comment Sango made last weekend. It was her nonsensical teasing that sent Sango spiraling. Now she couldn't seem to stopseeing him.

He'd bent down that morning, and Sango found herself no better than a man.

At least now, when she was waltzing about in the daylight, she didn't feel like she was suffocating. She only had a human's nose, but every time he walked by, she found herself damn near drooling after him, hung up on the burning scent of oak and cinnamon.

This had to stop.

Sango took a deep breath as she crossed the street and, once and for all, tried to erase the image of her shithead boss' ass from her memory. It was inappropriate; it was perverse– her sinful thoughts were cut short when a hand came around her mouth and dragged her back into the narrow space between two old buildings. Terror shot through her gut like lightning, and for one pitiful moment, Sango was frozen by fear. Sagging red tiles blocked out the sun, and it felt like she was being held captive by steel as feeling bled from her fingers. This was where she'd die, this was always how she died, and she wanted to cry, to rage.

"That's right, come quietly."

His taunting tone was enough to bring her back to life. Her teeth sank into the flesh of his palm, drawing blood, a moment before she threw her elbow back into her assailant's stomach, surging forwards and away when they sagged against her and buried a curse into her shoulder. For the moment, Sesshomaru and his ass was forgotten as she searched for her next opening, shouting for help the entire time. It was the middle of the workday, and she'd been the only one out on that lonely road leading to Sesshomaru's favorite coffee shop.

Running wasn't an option either, not when his hands were always on her, always grabbing and dragging her deeper into the alleyway, but—as he threw her into the pile of dingy, warped trash cans— she wished she'd at least tried.

Another warning to shut up went ignored as she tried to see through her blurring vision. The brick wall that broke her fall had been merciless against her skull when she landed amongst those tin bins. She spent too much time on the ground, wasted too many moments struggling.

Fear boiled inside her as his hand came around her throat.

He was tired of telling her to stop screaming, and her back hit the concrete with another painful, soundless thump. She hadn't made enough noise. She hadn't wanted to live enough, and now? Now she was going to die. Kicking, scratching, biting— Sango struggled against his assault, tears clouding her vision as her fingers slowly, steadily went numb. She was going to die. Her lungs burned, and her heart pounded, and she couldn't say that this was unfamiliar. She was going to die.

She'd died before. And Sesshomaru hadn't saved her. He never did.

Blackness tinged her vision as she sent her fist into his jaw, hoping for a reprieve, praying for the surety and safety that came with shining amber eyes–why didn't they shine anymore?

She was dying. She was dying, and she was wondering about Sesshomaru's eyes.

Air filled her lungs suddenly, and for a moment, Sango was disappointed to find that the person choking her assailant with a large pole wasn't Sesshomaru, but then it all felt like nonsense. The more air she gulped down, the stupider she felt. Why would he come? Why would she want him to?

She cursed herself for getting distracted, holding her neck as her world became more stable. For weeks now, women her age were being plucked off the side of the road in broad daylight. She'd warned Kagome until she was blue in the face about hypervigilance, and for what? Vigilance wouldn't have spared her when it was brute strength she was warring against.

The telltale snap of a neck should have made her jump, but when her savior dumped his motionless body at her feet, Sango found she felt nothing at all.

She was almost back to work when the reality of what had almost happened rushed her like a tidal wave. If not for that familiar, ruby eyed stranger, Sango would have died today, and that was a lot to take in. So when Sesshomaru turned his nose up at her and proclaimed she "smelt worse than she did before she left", she'd been incapable of keeping her cool.

The cool floor of his office hit her knees, and she was reminded again and again of the way the concrete bit into her skin. She screamed in frustration, curled in on herself, and held tight. But the pressure was too much and not enough, and she needed the stockings off. The way the rips rubbed against her legs, catching the stubble of her legs, made her reach for the bin at his side.

"What happened to you?" Strong hands felt like steel around her wrists as he tried to stop her from tearing the button off of a shirt that felt too much like trash and sweat.

And she lost her mind.

He had to cover her mouth to keep the sound trapped, but it did nothing for her white-hot panic, not until his voice in his hair began to soak into her bones.

"I've no intention of hurting you. You're safe. Be calm." Those words echoed–or maybe he repeated them–until she could finally calm down enough to be set free. "I'm here." Even then, she felt shaky and weak, and she jumped on the chance to bury herself in his chest, to cry until there were no more tears, and all she had left was the shuddering breathing of a broken woman. He held her so tightly she felt like she'd burst, but it was appreciated at the moment.

When she finally pulled away, she knew the anger in his eyes wasn't directed at her. His fingers brushed along the damp skin of her jaw as he inspected the darkening marks on her throat. Then forced her to turn her gaze upon him. It demanded that she take a deep breath and explain herself.

"Who?"

Her jaw quivered. To tell him that her attacker was dead would put her savior in danger, and she wasn't willing to get them in trouble when they were the only reason she was still alive. Even though Sesshomaru seemed pissed on her behalf, she didn't want to risk their freedom when she owed them her life.

"Sango, you will tell me." His grip tightened, and she thought it was a wonder he hadn't broken his own jaw with the way he clenched it. When she still said nothing, emboldened by his audacity, smoke began to soak through his button-down. It was his turn to lose control. The seal that kept his youki in check was buckling beneath the weight of his rage, and she was sure she wasn't imagining things when his eyes flashed red. "I have killed a great many men, and I will kill another if you only point me in their direction."

She imagined that he didn't admit that to every woman that fell apart in his arms, and his sudden openness inspired the same in her.

"He's… dead," Sango grumbled after a moment. Having Sesshomaru kneeling in front of her, his fury on full display for her sake, made it easier to calm down. No longer was she at the mercy of her hysteria. "A silent woman with a pole saved me. She left his body in the alleyway she saved me in."

"Kagura." He cast his jacket into her chest, his last gentlemanly act before he forced the anger down and became cold once more. "I will drive you home. You are useless to me when you're like this." She wanted to argue that it was cruel to call her useless when she just endured something like that. If Sango were being honest, she'd admit that she wanted that gentleness back; she wanted to feel his chest beneath her hands as she rested there–for just a little longer. She wanted his support, his strength, his energy, but…she didn't deserve that. Not really.

As she drew his coat around her form, she realized that they weren't friendly. The fact that he showed any concern for her well being at all was a surprise in and of itself. His driving her home and lending her his coat was already more than she could reasonably ask for. So she rose from the floor, trying to shake off the sudden dizziness, and cracked her head on his desk on the way down.

xXx

"What do you mean she fell? "

"Just that."

"She's half-naked."

Silence.

Sango struggled against the weight of her unconsciousness, grasping at nothing as a headache burst behind her eyes. To make matters worse, Kagome's voice was going shrill as she accused him of something nefarious when he was the one to save her. "Shut up." The words scraped past her throat, and someone was quick to put a straw to her lips. She couldn't bear to open her eyes and see who it was. Hospital lights were too bright when she wasn't concussed, and–if the brick wall didn't do it, the edge of Sesshomaru's mahogany desk surely did–she was definitely concussed. If not brain-damaged.

"Slowly," Kagome said gently. Sango considered it a blessing that Kagome was no longer shrieking; it made the gong going off in her head almost manageable. That first sip was heaven, and even though Kagome tried to warn her that she'd be sick, she didn't stop until the cup was empty. When it all came up, there was no one to blame but herself.

She leaned against the pillows when there was nothing left to choke up, choosing to ignore the sweet smell of oak and cinnamon that made her head spin, thanking her 'anonymous' helper when they took the sick bin far away from her. Kagome slipped into bed with her, wrapping her arm around Sango's shoulder in that motherly way she was notorious for.

"What happened to you?"

There wasn't a moment where Sango considered telling Kagome the truth. She was already so wary of youkai, confirming that they could be dangerous–even if it were just the one–would ruin all of the work Sango put in to break her out of her prejudices. "I was making out with Sesshomaru, and I tripped."

Kagome barked a laugh, apologizing a moment later when Sango cringed. "That's a lie."

"The truth is harder to believe."

"Harder to believe that you willingly got within fifteen feet of Sesshomaru?"

"Mhm."

"I'm your best friend."

Sango heard Sesshomaru collecting his things and tried not to take it personally when she cracked her eye open and saw him heading for the door. "Use your work account to order a car." He kept his voice low, and for that Sango was grateful. "For as long as you are absent, Higurashi will bear your load. Keep that in mind when using your sick time."

Sango didn't want Kagome to leave the next morning. The thought of being alone left her digging her nibbled nails into the flesh of her palm. She couldn't bear the thought of someone coming back to finish the job, but Sesshomaru wouldn't let her come into work –though he made her absence sound like a burden–until next Monday, and Kagome refused to call in sick, even going to far as to tell her to watch some anime to stave off the boredom, and left without looking back. Now she was left alone, hyper-vigilant and exhausted, glaring at the windows as if she could make them bulletproof by sheer force of will.

She flipped on the news, falling into the love seat once she was all wrapped up in the suit jacket Sesshomaru forgot to take back. It still smelled like him, and, even though it shouldn't, being surrounded by his scent gave her strength.

Two women aged twenty-seven were abducted outside the Family Mart around nine last night. Witnesses say they were awaiting a few friends when there was a scream. Police rushed to the scene, but there were no clues–.

It was almost inhuman how quickly she changed the channel. Knowing that her attacker wasn't working alone, knowing that there were more of them, made her sick. How long before one of his friends came back for her? She didn't know if it had been random or premeditated, and she hadn't had the thought to ask when she was being dragged to her death. Panic echoed inside of her chest, and the fear she felt yesterday came rushing back. There was nothing to stop them from having a list. There was nothing to stop them from beating her door in and finishing what they started.

She was alone. They could really make her suffer if they wanted–.

A knock at the door sent a jolt down her spine, and a soft swear passed her lips when scalding cocoa left her hands sticky and pink. The only thing keeping her from running to the fire escape, sticky hands be damned, was a text message from her boss.

Open the door.

Sango gathered her courage, put on a brave face, and wrenched the door open.

"Nice coat." The woman from yesterday breezed past her, glancing around at the decor as if they'd known one another for years. "Does he know you're sleeping in his favorite jacket, or should I keep that between us?" She popped open the refrigerator, tutted at the contents, and then settled on a bottle of green tea.

"I wasn't sleeping in it." Sango managed, still floored by the other woman's audacity. It wasn't every day that a woman strangled someone and then waltzed off without so much as a warning to keep it quiet. She'd think that coming over unannounced the next day to tease the woman she'd saved was even more peculiar. Although, she couldn't say she'd be polite either if she'd killed as many people as Sango suspected the other woman had killed. Taking lives left a stain that couldn't be washed off. It warped your mind. "I just…got cold, and it was nearby." Neither of them commented on the blaring aircon, or the fan pointed directly at Sango's spot on the couch.

"Kagura." The ruby eyed woman dropped onto the couch, lounging against the cracked fabric as Sango swallowed to urge to swear that she wasn't lying–that she had gotten cold. "Sesshomaru is blackmailing me. I keep you safe until Monday, or he tells InuYasha about the affair I'm having with his fiancee. That's the deal, and that's a problem because I swore to Kikyo that I gave up the yakuza."

Sango paused, her hand hovering over the knob of the door, and there were too many minutes where Sango thought she was hearing things.

"I did, for a while. It was important to her, and I knew where she was coming from. It's dangerous, but no one really quits, you know?" She toyed with her jade earrings, gazing into her pilfered tea. "It's not something you can just walk away from. It's a family. And those fuckers put Sesshomaru on probation for defending himself last year. He's got to check in once a month without fail because Yuna pushed him too far. So I figured being good wasn't good enough. We made a difference when we played by our own rules, but Sesshomaru has Rin to worry about now, and InuYasha is trying to keep Kikyo happy. I figured I was the only one who could really make that sacrifice right now."

Sango locked the door and took a seat beside Kagura. The fear she knew she should feel wouldn't ignite. It wasn't exactly a surprise that youkai fought behind the scenes for their rights. There was only so much petitions and protests could do, and, she supposed, sometimes there was no way around the need to knock skulls together.

"Besides," Kagura continued, "I miss the violence. If we're being perfectly honest.'

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Oh!" She shifted in her seat, reclaiming her forgotten train of thought. "No real reason. I don't get to vent often, and I know you won't say anything." Sango was a moment from asking how she knew what Sango would and would not do, they were perfect strangers, after all, but Kagura was more than happy to continue unprovoked. "You owe me your life after all."

Sango wanted to think on that, to ask if it was a threat, but, again, she wasn't given the chance. "And because I would totally tell Sesshomaru that you were sleeping in his coat."