The Coffee Corner: Much needed love and thanks to CaiCai! She's my never-ending muse, my better side, and my greatest friend. This drabble is dedicated to your lovely face and brilliant mind! This writer loves you to pieces :-)
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha. If I did, InuYasha would be rated 18A for a ton of yaoi-love between him and Sessho-sama! XD
It's All On Camera!
By: Caffeine Lover
Scene Two: The Trouble With Chairs
Rated: It's child-friendly, if you ignore the monk's perverted ways.
Pairings: Miroku x Sango
Genre: Fluff, attempted humour
Warnings: Miroku's usual "touchy-feely" problem
Summary: What do you do when your seat is taken? Miroku has a very good suggestion.
Scene One: The Trouble With Chairs
Sango stood in the corner of the chamber almost uncomfortably, both of her hands smoothing the front of her snug green apron of its invisible wrinkles. It was a nervous habit that the young demon slayer just couldn't seem to break – while most girls twirled their hair or bit their fingernails when they were fidgety, Sango had the strange and uncanny urge to clean and straighten everything around her. Not that it was a bad habit, but it would be awfully annoying when there was nothing to clean when the "urge" came on.
Like now, for instance.
Sango couldn't exactly scrub the walls or sweep the wooden floor; the way that Miyako had kept her house was extraordinary! Not a thing was misplaced, not a speck of dust was in sight.
The young exterminator began to rub at her apron just a little faster.
Her companion, a "delinquent" monk with deep violet eyes and a full mop of hair, eyed her with an eyebrow raised. His expression clearly said, What in the name of Buddha are you doing?, but Sango just ignored the question and went back to inspecting the new space around her – while still consistently "smoothing" out the green part of her attire.
Miroku cleared his throat as the lovely and elegant Miyako glided into the room which her guests were currently residing in. Her ebony-black hair was put back into a complicated bun while held together with a long, ivory hairpiece. Her grey eyes were as cold as marble, but her smile made up for that coldness. If the gods would let her, the brightness of her teeth and Miyako's optimistic nature would have surely brought the entire world light and laughter.
Well, this was what Miroku thought. Sango, on the other hand…
"So you say that there has been a strange feeling of unease in the mansion?" Miroku quickly began as soon as he felt the silent jealous wrath of Sango, whom was still standing as her hands continued to move fervently over the green cloth. Miroku had a sneaking suspicion that if Sango rubbed any harder, she'd wear out the fabric…
"Why, yes, that is correct," Miyako replied in a silky voice as she sat on an expensively embroidered cushion. She gave Miroku a shy glance, and then quickly lowered her gaze almost modestly as soon as the "holy" monk gave her a charming smile.
Sango fumed from the shadows. Her hands had finally ceased.
"After my husband had left to visit his dying elder brother, strange things have been happening around my home," the mistress of the mansion informed, her hand covering her mouth in a demure act. Miroku gazed at her, seemingly interested in her tale, even though he knew that there was no demonic aura around this castle. Sango knew this too; the youkai exterminator figured that she had probably taken an interest in the houshi, and had conjured up a tale to "lure" them in. Miroku and Sango only went in so that they could have money for their next meal.
Either way, Miroku wasn't complaining. It seemed almost too good to be true! A beautiful woman inviting him in while generously giving them money for free was not to be taken for granted. All they had to do was "believe" her story, stick a few purifying sutras around the place, and leave with a smile and their pockets filled. That is, after Miroku had stolen all the booty and treasures with his kazaana, of course.
Sango was thoroughly disgusted. The woman was married and already she was hitting on other men! Has she no shame? the tomboy-ish brunette thought with horror. Not only that, however, but Miyako had the gall to tell Sango that she only had two cushions in that room, and that she couldn't get more, and she would prefer that Sango stand (Miyako just HAD to have Miroku sit with her), since her clothing seemed "dirty". Miyako was such a neat freak that didn't want the slayer to contaminate her floors with her dirt and grime.
Thus was how Sango had ended up in the corner of the chamber as she watched the ever-so-charming and charismatic monk flirt with the witty lady of the house.
Sango was insulted, bossed around, and shunned all in one moment. The nerve of Miyako! Some hostess she is!
Maybe I should lure some real demons into her house and then drag the bouzo out of here… Miroku's companion continued to glower at the couple before her.
Suddenly, a slight rap was heard behind the paper screen. Miyako scowled as she stared at Sango expectantly, whom got the message to go and open the door. The demon slayer muttered some unmentionable oaths under her breath (Miroku heard every one of them and chuckled) as she slid open the barrier with an annoyed, "Yes?"
The servant seemed surprised to find the guest answering the call, but continued on with her message nonetheless. "Lady Kumiko has arrived, m'lady. She said that she would like to join you for some tea right now."
"Thank you, Miyu. I'll go and greet Lady Kumiko right now." Miyako seemed annoyed and a little irritated to have been distracted from entertaining her male guest, but she glided back over ever so gracefully and left the room, with Miyu sliding the screen door shut behind her.
The monk and the slayer were finally alone.
"My dearest Sango, why are you standing in the corner? Come and join me!" the houshi invited with open arms and a bright smile upon his handsome features towards the female. Sango blushed a little, averting her eyes from the mesmerizing purple ones.
"I'm standing here because Miyako seemed to have taken quite a liking to you, Miroku," Sango seethed, one of her hands balling into a tight fist. Miroku eyed that hand nervously, afraid that his angel would come charging at him with fury and blacken his eye. If she hits that eye one more time, he'll go blind! The monk gulped and tried a different approach.
"Well, Lady Sango, there is still an open seat for you," Miroku suggested innocently. Sango peered at him suspiciously. Miroku patted his lap with a grin and wink and offered, "If Miyako would not offer you a seat, then what better way to improvise than sit in the lap of the greatest man in the world?"
Sango scoffed at the last comment, but to her surprise, she found herself walking towards Miroku and plopping down quite comfortably in his crossed Indian-style legs. His eyes widened at how easy it was to persuade her, but then he figured that Sango just wanted revenge at Miyako for how she had humiliated her and kicked Kirara outside ("No animals in the castle, please."). But instead of feeling used, Miroku just smiled, hugged a heavily blushing Sango around the waist, and counted his blessings. A time like this with Sango was most precious, and should be treasured above all others.
Miroku rested his head on Sango's shoulder and whispered in a husky voice, "Let's stay like this way for a while, hmm?" The slayer just shivered and gave a shaky nod. Miroku laughed lowly and started to kiss the skin on the goddess' neck before him, nipping and kissing and licking lightly occasionally. Sango found it strange how she found this touch pleasurable, and strangely addicting.
She never wanted him to stop.
It was worth all the humiliation and the inhumanly time that she was forced to stand when Sango had witnessed the priceless expression of horror and rejection when Lady Miyako had returned to her chamber and having found Sango tangled in Miroku's arms as he continued to assault her neck.
It was also worth it how Miroku didn't seem to be paying as much attention to Miyako as before, this time more intent on concentrating on holding Sango, kissing Sango, and try to comprehend what the mistress was saying about the "ghostly" sightings as his senses were overwhelmed with the slayer. Miyako was furious (although she hid it well). The lady glared at Sango so hard that the brunette was surprised that she hadn't gone up in flames yet. And during all that time in Miroku's arms, Sango kept on smiling.
But the best part was how Miroku never stopped his loving worship on her neck, and how his hold on her never loosened.
- The End -
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