Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or its characters. They are the sole property of Takahashi Rumiko.

-To Sip of Black Velvet-

Chapter 11: But Lovers all the Same

Author's Note: Hope you didn't miss the last chapter. DOUBLE UPDATE 10/24/11

I could not go long without his touch.

And I assumed that he could not go long without mine either. If too long had passed and we had not been able to set up another meeting, I'd notice that he'd come into the bar while I worked. At first we'd merely tease our need for each other. I'd let my fingers linger just a little longer than necessary on his when I innocently passed him drinks. An uncharacteristic twitch or a heavy exhale would signal me of his need. He would watch me closely, pinning me with his gaze, as he opened thin burning lips to sip slowly from his glass and he never once missed an opportunity to accidentally brush against me as he made for an exit. Sometimes I'd sing directly to him while on the stage until the entire crowd would feel suffocated by the heat that would build up between us. I'd always leave work in need of a very cold shower.

Sometimes we'd nearly consume each other. One night it seemed we had teased each other too much. Sesshoumaru had stopped by the bar earlier but had long since departed. At the end of the night, Miroku had left the bar early and Sango had mysteriously disappeared. I wasn't blind. Sango had loved Miroku for years, though I'd seen her threaten him with broken bottles in the bar on more occasions than I could even remember. And Miroku had always loved Sango, though he was notorious for picking up stray inebriated women. I was happy for them—mostly, and the little smidgen of bitterness that I'd felt wasn't really for them. No. It was for everyone who really had someone like I wanted… him.

While I was left to clean up the bar alone, I sighed wondering when Sesshoumaru and I would get the chance to meet next. I was getting extremely tired of cold showers and by the way he had abruptly left the bar I knew he had to be getting tired of them too. I was startled out of my thoughts by a knock on the door and called out that we were closed. When the knocking started anew, I figured it must have been Miroku or Sango coming back to help me so I went to unlock the front door. On the other side stood Sesshoumaru. His business suit was soaked from the rain and his eyes were molten and piercing. Desire poured off of him in waves and all I could do was smile. I let him in without a word and locked the door behind him. In our frenzy that night, we toppled over tables, broke glasses, and smashed alcohol bottles. I made sure to leave deep bloody fingernail trails down his back when his claws left irreparable gashes into the bar counter as he took me.

We attacked each other all over the bar until somehow we ended up on Kaichou's stage. He placed me on my hands and knees and plunged in to me ruthlessly until I met release in the same spot that I stood when I first laid eyes on him. It was bittersweet. Afterwards, I gazed into his impossibly-golden colored eyes the same as I had back then and I found that I was still trying to make him stare at me forever. I laughed aloud, my voice rough and my bare body convulsing on the hard mocking wood of the stage, when he turned his regretful eyes away from me. He had to leave, as always, and I knew it. It seemed that I would have to carry on with my trying and with my being incomplete. I finished cleaning up the bar alone that night, just like I had been meant to. But I somehow felt far lonelier than I had before I had heard that knock on the door.

I loved him but I needed more from him. I had probably fallen in love with him the moment I'd seen him, and although I knew I could not go long without having his touch… I was beginning to realize that I could not last much longer without having his everything.

I could tell that he wanted to love me, wanted to complete me, with how frantically he tried to mend the pieces of my heart with heavy kisses and strong gentle touches that he knew would never work. I was merely waiting. Grasping eagerly on to the words that he had spoken in the dark that night, the words that gave me hope that this was only temporary. I began to loath the 'now' that kept me from my future with him and simultaneously I began to loathe the 'her' that played her part in it.

From then on I began obsessing over his wife.

Word Count: 803