.

.

.

.

The Taming of the Stubborn Inuyoukai

It's been one week since you looked at me

Threw your arms in the air

and said "You're crazy"

Five days since you tackled me

I've still got the rug burns on both my knees

It's been three days since the afternoon

You realized it's not my fault

not a moment too soon

Yesterday you'd forgiven me

And now I sit back and wait til you say you're sorry.

—One Week - Barenaked Ladies

Chapter One| Unexpected Gift; Unexpected Time

How had she forgotten her umbrella? How?

Kagome sighed as she held her leather messenger bag over her head, back of it facing the sky in some vain and failing attempt to keep the rain off her person, and, to keep her university books intact.

Really now, life shouldn't be quite so difficult on her birthday. Was Kami-sama punishing her for recording over her brother's favorite anime last week with that documentary on ancient sword technique? You'd think Souta would have been a bit more interested in the latter… then again, she'd probably all but driven her little brother mad with her obsession on anything old that was sharp and pointy. At least her Jii-chan appreciated her passion.

Although, really, that wasn't saying much. The old geezer annoyed everyone in the house with the old ways and crack-pot schemes.

Gah! I'm turning into my grandfather!

She shut her eyes tightly as she ran and shook her head. Black hair would have jerked and bounced were it not dampened by the torrential downpour.

I'm such an idiot, honestly. No wonder Souta thinks I need medication.

She should have irritated with that proclamation from her sibling, given that much of her time in high school had been wrought with lies about her health just so she could juggle both her studies and finding the jewel shards. But, her brother meant nothing by it, really. He just liked to prick her pride now that he was older.

What had happened to the sweet boy who didn't mind distracting Inuyasha while she caught up on her homework?

Such a brat.

Now he just griped at her for TV time; it was a ritual now that they had a billion channels—fighting over who had control of the remote when they weren't working at the books, or, when Kagome wasn't busy in the shrine yard going through her forms. Really, it'd be more fun if her brother would practice with her; she'd not only get to work up a sweat against another human being, but, they could figure out who got the TV that day. Rock, paper, scissors was just too easy.

Though, even her friends thought the obsession that had bloomed a good six years after the well closed was altogether unusual. And they wanted to know why; why did she suddenly spring forth this crazy desire to collect, study, and use all things deadly—specifically ancient katanas, wakizashi, and tanto. It was simple really; she just couldn't tell them truth. The truth was beyond them. The truth meant telling them she was searching for something she'd left some five-hundred years ago in Edo; it meant telling them that she believed that if she could find the swords, trace to where they come or gone, that she'd be able to find Inuyasha, Shippo, and maybe even Kouga—her friends. It meant believing they were still alive and happy. It meant finding out if Miroku and Sango had ancestors.

That obsession… it kept the tears at bay; the wish that she could go back to that place just as she had done before whenever she wanted. How had she taken that for granted? Going back and forth, thinking the well would always be open to her? Had she really thought that at fifteen? Or, had she simply ignored that it would happen one day; that one day she would never be able to go back?

Over the last six years it turned into more. The more knowledge she absorbed, the more she traced one weapon to another, one story to the next, the more she took trips to collector's homes and museums… the more that desire to learn how to use that which she studied arose.

At that point her friends had all began to wonder if she was going to remain single for the rest of her life. And she knew this had not a thing to do with her studies, but rather everything to do with how she filled her schedule with said obsession.

TV time fighting with her brother was really the only moment she cut a break; and not because she didn't already know more than half of what was talked about on those documentaries. No, really it had everything to do with it just being convenient and easy to flop down and indulge on all she knew to be wrong and right about the history of said obsession.

Plus, annoying her brother had its bonuses.

Especially when he was being a little asshole.

Kagome gave an exhausted sigh as she rounded the corner on the sidewalk into the shrine. Steps were taken in leaps with an abuse of power granted her in the form of miko pink energy. But, really, whatever Kami punished miko would surely cut her a break, right? It was pouring, for heaven's sake. She'd been punished enough.

On her birthday!

She sighed again, this time in relief, as she got the front door and slipped in quickly. Water rolled off her form and dripped down on the wood flooring where shoes sat in a row.

"Mom!" Kagome called as she slipped hers off, bouncing on one foot at a time with a grunt. Her sneakers were soaked, socks almost beyond rescue; they had to be.

"Kagome…?"

The twenty-one year old looked up as her mother came in, brown eyes blinking at her only daughter while she wiped her hands on her apron.

Kagome grinned sheepishly as she wiggled her bare toes, socks in one hand—also dripping. "Uh… so it's raining."

Her mother chuckled softly and then laughed easily. "Thank you for the weather report, Kagome. Would you like me to get you a towel?"

"Yes, please," she said all at once, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I had a very long day. This was just the icing on the cake. Really."

Her mother hummed in that way that all mothers did that let you know they were listening, but that you could never be sure if they agreed with you or not. Kagome watched as she disappeared around the corner and then came back, two big fluffy white towels in her hands. "Has Dr. Himura been giving you a hard time again?" she asked with a smile as she offered them to her daughter.

Kagome pouted; actually, scowled. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes closed with a haughty grunt as she grabbed one and fluffed her hair in such a way that you couldn't see her face. She didn't begrudge her mother as the woman went about drying her person off with the other. "He keeps treating me like a gofer intern," she bit off. "I'd blame it on his age, forgetting that I'm an employee with full time benefits; ya know, as in I deserve a little respect—something more than paper pushing to do.

"But, the jerk-face is barely over forty."

"Ah…" her mother said, almost agreeing as she knelt and dried her daughter's jean-damp legs. "You've told me he's one of those genius types who likes to work alone."

"Thinks he's damned good at everything."

Her mother laughed at that before standing.

"Sorry…" Kagome muttered about the curse, looking to the side. She let the towel hang around her shoulders.

"You're forgiven," she said with a smile. "It's your birthday, after all. But, you only get one," she said holding up a finger, "free pass.

"Now, indulge your mother by allowing her to think you're not old enough to use such language and go upstairs and change. Your grandfather and Souta have been waiting for you so we can eat and enjoy some cake."

Kagome nodded with a soft smile of understanding; her mother… she'd never quite see Kagome as an adult. And yet, she never complained about Kagome being herself; not once. The young woman half wondered where she got all that patience from, all that understanding. Had she ever once worried about Kagome during her week-long jaunts back in time? Probably. There had been this sense of tension released from her mother's shoulders rather subtly once she'd told her she wasn't going back, that the well had been sealed.

"Alright." Feeling a bit less damp, she grabbed her bag from the floor and bounded to the stairs like the young girl she'd never quite grown out of. It took but a few beats of said bounding to take her to her room and in the door.

Normally, she'd drop her bag on her bed; however, the leather was still a bit wet and she didn't want that rubbing off on her clean comforter. Instead, she dropped it next to her desk.

Rich shades of the past assailed her; painting of mountains, the mists, in the old style colored her walls. Reds and blues… tones and hues that reminded her royalty, Inuyasha, and the youkai she'd left behind saturated the room in a sharp contrast to the softer tones.

They'd done a lot of renovating since she'd come home. Grandfather had somehow managed to swindle one of those collectors she always went to visit into sponsoring their shrine simply because of the historical significance it held; because his wife had been rather fond of the romantic tale of the youkai and shrine maiden, and because she didn't want the place to fall into ruin. Kagome had thought it was an exaggeration, but perhaps her home had been a bit like 'ruin' to a woman who had a closet the size of Kaede's hut and then some. More so, she'd felt a little put off by it, but had to remind herself that this place wasn't just her home; it was a holy temple that needed any and all help provided to keep it afloat.

Selfishly, she'd been glad for the extra room to keep her own meager collection of weapons, scrolls, and books. The summer job she worked, the one that went part time during classes, was not enough to give her more than that. Even when she got her doctorate she wasn't entirely sure she'd make all that much. Kagome would have to get used to living off what grants the government would offer her, what people with more money than the Emperors of old would give her in the way of sponsorship.

Such was the life of a scholar.

If nothing else, she supposed she could just teach kendo.

Kagome barked laughter at that as she stripped and redressed into a pair of pajama shorts and tank top. She was still grinning as she ran a comb through her hair and put back her long black locks that never seemed to obey her command to not become something reminiscent of a frazzled fan.

She'd straighten it… but, really, she'd look more like Inuyasha's lover than ever before. The last thing she would need would be the shrine maiden outfit. Another laugh at that.

Without much else to do Kagome left her room and jumped down the stairs like a rambunctious teenager. She softened her landing with another abuse of power, knowing her mother would hear her otherwise. No need for a lecture; she'd already spent her free pass for the day.

"I'm here!" she announced with a bright grin as she entered the dining room just off to the kitchen.

"Finally," Souta muttered. "I'm starving already."

"Hush," her mother told him as Kagome took a seat next to the little imp. "Your sister works very hard to help us out. And that requires her to stay late. The very least we can do on her birthday is wait to have dinner as a family.

"Between all your work and studies I see my children so little." Her voice was wistful in the manipulating way mothers all knew how to do so very well to gain pity from their offspring. She even gave a little sniff.

When had her mother become such an odd creature, Kagome wondered. Or maybe she'd always been that way and Kagome never noticed because she'd been so young, so wrapped up with her journey to the past. Or maybe the two of them, Souta and she, had driven her to this as they had both grown.

"Moooom," the imp groaned, "It's not like it's my fault." He pouted boyishly, brown knit as he placed his cheek in his palm. Shaggy short strands fell into his eyes. "Can we please eat now?"

"Yes! Or no presents!" Kagome's grandfather decided to pipe in at that moment with a crazy grin. "And I worked diligently for yours, granddaughter!"

Kagome smiled with some strain as she turned to look at him where he sat at the other head of the table opposite of her mother. Hope it's not another mummified cat this time, she thought to herself. That was all she needed; another weird artifact to pawn off on one of her professors who were nuts about Egyptology. It wasn't like Kagome didn't like old things; but for some reason her grandfather always got her artifacts he would have liked as a gift. Why didn't he just buy her a bow; archery was something he encouraged. And, really, she'd been eyeing that European bow on the net from the time of the Black Prince. It was—.

"Oh meat!" Souta shouted as they passed dishes around and got right to dinner.

Kagome laughed softly and got right to it as her family chatted on about their lives and so forth. Then came cake, the top of it lit up with number twenty-one. She gave an effulgent grin, closed her eyes, and whispered a silent wish about certain hanyou and youkai she wanted to see again. With a whisper, a blow, they were out and everyone was clapping. Soon enough, presents were shoved into her hands, one from each of them.

"Oh... mama…" Kagome whispered, breathed, as she pulled the wrapping paper back and lifted the lid on the box, revealing a rather impressive blade sheathed in a white scabbard that looked almost like pearl.

"Take it out," her mother told her softly.

Without looking at the woman who birthed her, Kagome did as she bade and stood. She pulled the weapon from its sheath, suddenly struck by the engravings wrought into it, the old kanji.

"I was told it said—."

"Amenonuhoko.." Kagome whispered next in awe. The very weapon that was dipped into the water to churn up the brine by Izanagi and Izanami to create the islands of Japan; the very weapon that had been a spear in folklore before it was reforged into what she—quite possibly—held in her hands. Shockingly, she watched as it rippled with rainbow-like colors when she twisted it in the lighting. But, this couldn't be…

… It was just a story, after all.

Though, so were youkai.

"Is it…"

"Real?" her mother asked. "Quite."

Kagome's gaze shot to hers, trapping her mother's brown gaze with her own blue one as she sat back down with a drop. "How could you have afforded this—."

"It was given to me by the very kind Kimi-san," she told her. "She wanted to make sure you had a proper birthday present and implored that I should give it to you. She told me under no uncertain terms that it belonged with the shrine."

Kagome was awestruck. People did not just give up centuries old swords that were supposedly the very weapons of creation. They didn't. Certainly not to her. Not just because they were married to a man they insisted pay to help rebuild her family's shrine because they were fond of an old romantic legend that had been real life for Kagome.

"She said a miko should have it."

Kagome grunted at that as she put it back in its sheath with a soft snap. "I'm not exactly a miko…" Though, she knew that was a lie, in part. Kagome rarely had time to use her powers; these days it was more of a distraction for childish antics she'd never grown out of. Like bounding up the stairs and skipping five or more at a time when no one was watching. She wasn't a traditionalist at all. But then, it's not like she could fight youkai anymore; which, was a shame. Her time in feudal Japan hadn't been spent mastering her powers very well; she would have done much better getting the shards now than she had before. But, that was all hindsight. She wouldn't be where she was at with them now had she not gone back.

"I'm sure Kimi-san wouldn't mind arguing otherwise if you decide to visit her," her mother offered.

"Enough chit chat! My gift next!" Souta shouted as he shoved a box in her hands.

"So loud," Kagome sing-songed, teasing him as she ripped at the paper and moved to open it. Within it, she discovered her brother had bought her something altogether practical and girly—expensive.

"You said you wanted more of that shampoo, but I know how you spend all your money on pointy things."

Kagome laughed. "I love it, thank you." It probably cost him a good chunk of his allowance; nothing special really, but he'd thought of her needs. And that meant enough. Her hair thanked him; she knew.

And then her grandfather was slapping a small bowed box in front of her, nearly knocking down Souta's gift. "You've earned it," the old man told her.

Cryptic and weird, Kagome thought ruefully. Probably another bandaged corpse she'd have to pawn off on one of her colleges. With a resigned and repressed sigh Kagome ripped at the paper and opened the box. Well… not a corpse at least…

In it lay a very unusual-looking fude brush. Actually, it reminded her the feudal period, but it was too new-looking to be that old. Where had the old man gotten it? Some gift shop? Were they selling these now in their own? From the wolfy-looking creature on it she had to assume so. She could just see the inuyoukai of her time fuming over the badly burnt-in image of their demon-form.

"Uh… thank you, Jii-chan," she said, hoping her voice sounded thankful and appraising.

"I was told it's over four hundred years old, girl."

"It doesn't look it…"

"Well it is!"

"Yes, Jii-chan," she said ruefully, not wanting to argue with him on the finer points of dating old things. "Thank you all so much." She grinned at her family. Souta hugged her, her mother placed a kiss on her forehead before ruffling her hair, and her grandfather joined her brother in the same affection on her person.

"Do you guys mind if I go to bed early? I've got a few things to work on."

"Can't you do it tomorrow? It's your day off then." This from Souta.

"I could, yeah, but I'd like to enjoy my free day, ya know?"

He frowned. "Oi, fine. I'll just take over the TV by myself."

"We can fight about it tomorrow," she told him as she gathered her gifts and her mother began to clear the table. "Anyway, help mom."

"Yeah, yeah…"

With a roll of her eyes Kagome escaped to her room. The day had been shitty for sure, but, her family always had a way of making even the worst of them come together that much better.

Now, if only she didn't have to do paperwork well into the one in the morning…

…Idiot boss.

Kagome gave a grumble as she slapped the file shut on her desk. Her fingers hurt from all the typing and writing she'd done. At this rate she'd have carpel tunnel before she was thirty. Why couldn't her idiot team lead get it through his skull that just because she was a twenty-one year old that she was not an intern. Granted, she had another two years left on her doctorate because she was taking her time after she'd rushed through to secure her AA and bachelors… but, oi! that man.

At least it was done, she mused as she gazed on at her digital clock just as it shifted the time to one-thirty. All was quiet in the house and she'd held off really looking at her presents until she'd finished, as if she needed some kind of small reward for the hard work she shouldn't be doing.

Her mother's gift had been really unexpected. Kagome still wasn't convinced, honestly, that the blade in the mother-of-pearl encrusted sheathe was the weapon of legend. She was certainly convinced it was a nice sword, one that may have been made ages ago in prompting of the legend. But, no, not the actual blade. She wanted to use Souta's gift tonight; another reward for her hard work. But, first to have a gander that weird gift shop fude her grandfather thought was a real-deal ancient tool.

It was silly, honestly. Her grandfather knew as much about old crap (in general) as she did about old weapons. Why in the seven hells would he think the calligraphy tool was anything but a recently-made item? Probably put together in China along with a thousand or so others…

Maybe he was going more senile that he normally did.

Maybe.

Still, Kagome was drawn to it. She noted this draw became that much stronger as she pulled it out of its box and rolled the wooden part of it between her fingers. One elbow was set on the desk and her cheek pressed into her fist in such a way that smooshed her face. It wasn't stained, she noted as she got a better look at it. The wood was coated in something, but not stained. It was really white too… not a tint of yellow or brown in it. What had they used to make such a thing?

Her eyes narrowed as she noted the violet-red hairline lines in it; they were apart of the wood and didn't look painted at all. She squinted and brought it closer to her face. Well, what kind of wood had purple-red in it? Something exotic probably.

Her fingers twisted it about and fluffed through the brush part of it, noting how soft and firm the hairs were. Wolf? Maybe. They didn't feel like dog. If it were from feudal Japan animal hair would have been used; it didn't feel like cat—.

She stilled.

A ripple of something… waved out. Hadn't it? It was so fast. No, probably her imagination. The need for sleep, or maybe her wish to see her friends who were probably long dead by now was doing it. Yes. That hadn't been youkai power she sensed. Wouldn't be.

Impossible.

Her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes narrowed once more.

She wondered what her grandfather expected her to do with it. She'd earned it? Senile. He was totally senile. Kagome didn't need medication; he did.

Another urge hit her; probably out of boredom. With a notable yawn, the not-miko pulled a slip of paper from one of her stacks and grabbed the tools she'd need. Fairly quickly, black ink was made in the way it once was and she gathered it onto the brush with a few dips and strokes.

"Hopefully Jii-chan didn't expect me not to use it," she said aloud, knowing she'd feel worse about if it were an actual antique. It just didn't feel like one, and hey, why not use her gift? Even if was silly and made her think of the past she couldn't return to. Right?

Right.

Black slid over white as she painted what she thought were words; poor ones at that. She'd never been good at this, not being a true miko at all.

Still, it felt relaxing to watch the ink spread over the paper and—.

It happened again.

Ba-dump…!

The fude suddenly jerked out of her hand and glowed, snapping in the air. She stood up in reaction, toppling her chair as she stepped back. Blue eyes widened as the fude moved on its own.

Crap, is it cursed?! she wondered, recalling the mask that had taken over her grandfather years ago.

Kagome ducked as it shot to her and at the same time reached for the sword her mother had gifted her. The katana slid out of its sheathe with a relative ease she was accustomed to.

Youkai! Youkai! Her body screamed, her miko instincts shouted at her. At the same time the pink aura hummed in the weapon in her hand as she took a stance and tossed the scabbard aside towards her bed some ten feet away.

The fude jerked in air, pointing and spinning as if looking for something. It came at her again and Kagome dove out of the way, barely missing her turned over chair as she rolled to stand. But when it came again and she moved to strike, it jerked and slipped beyond her defenses.

Why me?! She screeched in her own head as the fude brushed over skin while she fell on her ass. What the fuck is it doing?!

The black ink wove over her arms, her neck, her exposed back, and chest. She felt a blinding power that reminded her of a sealing technique, but it was youkai. It burned heavily; although, it didn't hurt. More confused and now intrigued than she was afraid, Kagome stood up slowly as the brush worked and drew. It wasn't hurting her.

Something pinched her ear and she reached up to the cuff of her right one, feeling something cool and metal. An earring? It dangled and she had the urge to go look in her mirror. But then something else happened.

The fude stopped in front of her and then faded from sight with a flash of white light that blazed in her room. Still grasping the sword, she shielded her eyes with the other hand, only dropping it when the luminosity was gone.

She blinked at the empty room… wondering just what in the hell had happened. That was until she felt with warm crawling on her chest—stomach. Kagome jumped and then lifted her shirt just high enough to look down.

She gasped.

On her skin was a gray-shaded tattoo of a demon dog that looked distinctly like—.

It moved.

"What the fu—." It was all she got out before it jumped off of her body, soared through the air, and then took form in a twisting of limbs and more white light. On the ground a man kneeled—a man who, unless she was fucking crazy (maybe she needed those pills after all), was bare-chested with his long white hair in a pool around him over one shoulder. She couldn't see his eyes as they were downcast with his face. One hand was one his knee, the other in a fist with knuckles flat on the floor. He was broad… very broad and… very… familiar…

His aura was. But, who…

Kagome's eyes widened… no. No way!

Her body screamed that her assessment was right even as she told it that it was wrong. It had to be. There was no fucking way that the Lord of the—.

"Mistress," she heard him speak, "my will is your own, your command thine. Tell me of what you desire and it shall be yours if it is within my ability. From this point on I am in your service until death takes you, or, you see fit to claim me as your own."

Kagome felt herself hyperventilating; no… that was just her addled brain telling her she fucking should be. She should!

"…Sesshoumaru?" she whispered in disbelief, too shocked to say anything else.

Yellow cat-like eyes that she hadn't seen in well over six years shot up to hers. And though his face was entirely impassive… there was defiance in that gaze—aggression. They narrowed and his jaw flexed.

"What…" she found herself saying, blurting, as she put her foot in her mouth all of sudden—as she generally did when faced with something altogether insane and… and… "What the fuck is this?!" she blurted next, sword loose in her grip. Really, she didn't know what else to say.

Who in the hell would?

"Miko…" she heard him mutter, focusing on her. His jaw flexed again. "May I stand?"

"Uh… yeah…"

And so he did. And that was about the time Kagome forgot to think because her eyes were full of bare chested youkai; bare chested youkai in very silky white pants that were bound to his waist by that damnably blue and gold sash she'd always seen him in.

Oh, damn… that's not good for my senses… not at all. Hot chest; nice chest; yesssss very nice.

"You are aroused," she heard him say.

Blue depths jerked up to meet his gaze. She gave herself a pat on the back for not blushing; though, that probably had everything to do with the fact that she was still reeling from a very hot and sexy Sesshoumaru standing her room half naked and calling her mistress.

Dreaming, right?"

"Would you like me to attend to that need?"

Wait… what…?

He raised a brow at her; that action lasted a moment before he stepped into her space, the heat of him radiating and warming her as he reached out and brushed hair away from her temple. Those soft digits slid along her scalp with a scrape of his claws, causing her to gasp as the electricity of his touch slid right to her core. She felt his other hand come to her shoulder; that touch was soft too… barely grasping her as his thumb rolled over her bare skin.

"You are aroused," he said again, deep timber of his voice darker and just as penetrating, "it has been some twenty cycles of the planet around the sun since This Sesshoumaru had lain with another.

"Would you allow me to attend that need? My own?"

Kagome, somewhere between the fude coming to life and a blast from the past appearing in her bedroom, had completely lost all ability to think. Really, she had. But, who could blame her?

Mildly, she tried to think of the last time she'd had sex with anyone. There were probably cobwebs in her vagina by now; eck… not a good image. No, no, not at all. Bad, Kagome. Baaaaaad.

"Really... confused…" she managed somehow, not entirely sure she wanted to break the spell. "You… uh… is this real?" she asked stupidly. Somehow the idea of Sesshoumaru—arrogant, asshole, trying-to-kill-Kagome, stick-up-his-ass Sesshoumaru—asking to sleep with her just felt too bizarre to be anything but a dream.

So don't wanna wake up; yup, not ashamed of that thought. Nupe.

"I am pain," he told her simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Twenty cycles have—."

"I got that the first time," she said, finding her brain was coming back to her even as he skimmed his lips over her cheek, hovering dangerously close to her own as if he just needed her to say yes. He'd tilted her head to do that and she really couldn't find a good reason to pull away. "I just—information," she said next. "How did this…" Oh man… hot breath… lips close. Very close.

"You want to know why I am here?" he murmured, eyes half shut as they focused on her mouth. His other hand still caressed her arm, sliding up and down in a way that created a gentle hum along her skin.

"Y-yeah…" she said brokenly. "Can uh…" Vaguely, she recalled that speech he'd given her about being hers or something. Oh, that didn't help at all… but, did that mean she could tell him to stop? Fuck, did she want to?

"Are you commanding me to tell you?"

"Maybe?" she said as his lips brushed hers and sent another surge of want to her groin.

"I am your servant," he said in that way that told her there would be no other explanation.

"Sure… got that…" Blink. "How?"

He sighed in a way that most people did when they wanted something but could not have it; then, he closed his eyes.

Kagome found herself wrapped in his embrace, his hands moving to caress her everywhere while his face slid into the crook of her neck: her back, her bottom, her thighs, her sides, her shoulders, the base of her skull—like he couldn't get enough of touching her... So… weird…

That hot mouth opened along her throat; fangs grazed. On instinct, she grabbed onto his shoulders, sword hitting the floor, just as his tongue licked a path of molten heat that made her gasp.

"Tell me how—shit," she cursed as he bit gently.

Has to be a dream. I've been working too hard. Must have fallen asleep at my desk. Man, all that ink is gonna look real great in the morning on my face. Did I start drawing in the dream? Crap, I hope I finished my paperwork…

Something akin to a rumble of a growl ran against her neck, her ear, as his nose brushed along her skin and into her hair. He inhaled, smelling her. Somehow, a youkai smelling her didn't seem quite so creepy. It should have been; it wasn't.

"My mother bid me to mate, to learn humility. I refused, and thus was cast into a curse of her making—binding me to the fude brush. For some four hundred years I have been in the service of others.

"You used the brush, therefore you are my mistress.

"Now," he went on, voice just a deep as ever, "will you allow me to attend your need?

"My own?" he punctuated.

"Gotta be a dream…" she said out loud as he took the lobe of her ear into his mouth and sucked, soothing it with his tongue. "Gotta… be…" She had to rationalize it that way. It was. Had to be. Maybe this was what her birthday wish had conjured for her. Surely. Yeah, that made it alright.

She was a sleeping and in the morning she'd have one fabulous memory to hold onto when the real world came back and she went back to work the day after tomorrow; something to help her daydream while her boss gave her hell. Maybe she'd get lucky and dream about a Sesshoumaru love-slave again later.

Yes, a dream.

"Mistress?" he whispered softly, voice full of pained want.

"Yes—uh—attending. I'll take it. Super-sized with a side of all of it."

If he'd been confused by her babble she didn't know. Because in the next moment his lips captured hers in all of the aggressive desire that had been swimming in his eyes when he'd first looked at her. He poured it into her as he lifted her. Kagome found her arms winding around his neck, her legs about his hips. She felt nails—claws—biting into her back and butt as he pressed her as close to him as he could get her.

His mouth ravaged hers, tongue sliding against her own in some battle as she twined her fingers into his hair and held on. So soft. In the next moment she was on her bed, her shirt was coming off—her pants. The speed of it all would have had her nervous normally. But, hey—dream! She moved to reach for him, kissing him once more and enjoying the way he hummed in pleasure while he took off his shoes, his pants.

And then he was pressing against her again, this time with skin on skin. She could feel that hard part of him bumping against her thigh as they both shifted further up on the mattress. His mouth never quite left hers while he crawled after her; not until she settled and it moved capture of nipple. She cried out at that, arching as her legs spread. That sound only became louder as he slid two fingers into her. At first, she jerked away, worried about claws.

It's a dream, no need to worry about flayed girly parts.

Nothing cut into her; there was nothing but the pleasure he writ into her skin, within her, and on the sensitive nub between her folds. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders even as he went lower, as his mouth went to that place and lapped. Her body twisted and flexed; she gasped as he rolled his tongue into a motion that had her nails clawing into him.

It all felt so good; so damned good.

I am dreaming, right...?

She careened into her orgasm with what seemed so little effort on his part, telling her that this indeed had to be a dream. No man ever set her blood on fire so much. Nothing ever seemed this… this surreal, this intangible and tangible at once.

In one smooth motion that felt too hazy to be real, he was within her fully. His mouth was on hers, her throat, her ear; she could feel him nipping and biting as if he wanted to pierce skin. And really, she wanted him to. Kami, how she wanted him to.

"Let me…" he seemed to beg; which, was silly. Sesshoumaru did not beg. Well, apparently dream-Sesshoumaru did. No complaints. Nupe.

"Please," she found herself saying. "I want… Ah!" And then he did. Her dream youkai-lover bit down and drew from her. Her nails cut down his back until they halted on his ass; it was there she dug in as she thrust back with his own motions.

Sweat-slicked and falling into oblivion, Kagome came for the second time as the dream-youkai begged her to find climax with him, as he came with her.

Some presents, she mused in the folds of her dream—wondering why she'd fall asleep in a dream with a dream-youkai tenderly covering them both in her blankets and sheets before he pulled her back to his front—really were better than others.

Jii-chan… your gift… really was the best.

AN :: So, a few years ago I wrote this really awful KagInu fic. I never finished it. Since then, it's been deleted and replaced with equally awful Naruto fics I wrote years ago. At any rate, I blame all of this on my friend Kimmi. She got me reading that deviantart comic Raindrops; then, I decided it'd be a great idea to go and read some SesKag fics since I'd sucked the well dry on Naruto and Buffy fanfiction for my favorite pairings.

I promised myself I'd quit writing fanfics. Apparently I fail at that.

So, here you go. Hope you enjoyed it—my fail at quitting.

Be warned though, I may not update as often as you'd like me to as my original fiction is more of my focus.

Damn you, Kimmi.

—Blade