The Poison Collection by Aki

Nothin' But a Good Time

Title: Nothin’ But a Good Time

Synopsis: Sesshoumaru’s poor with the stocks of his father’s company crashing, and he finds himself down and almost out, but simply being with Kagome makes his life less... stressful.

Aki’s Note: Okay, these are gonna just be a bunch of ficlets that I write at random, so they might by citrusy or normal, depending on my mood. xP I do not in anyway own Sesshoumaru or any of the other people I use in my fic that are InuYasha Characters. :) This one-shot is also grotesquely AU and EXTREMELY OOC, BTW. O_O

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“Taisho!” The loud patronizing voice rang in the young man’s ears. This was just not Sesshoumaru’s day. First, he was working back-braking hours with almost no pay. Second, he really hated his boss. “Get that order done!”

One would believe working a paid internship for a fashion design company would offer  decent money; at least enough to, you know, live. At that moment, the silver haired once somberly stoic man wished he never took the job when he found the listing for it. Working under the “famous” Metsumura, Japan’s top-notch “small label” owner seemed like too good of an opportunity; and Sesshoumaru had been right about that.

“I’m working on it, Metsumura-sama.” Oh how he loathed using the “-sama” honorific for anyone; as a child he was told to bow to no one and allow that term to slip from his lips, and look at him now. With every sentence it was, “Yes Metsumura-sama” this, and “Of course, Metsumura-sama” that. He wanted nothing more than to tell the spoiled brat her clothing was more suited for paid street walkers than any woman he would ever bother looking at. Alas, he could not voice that opinion; he simply kept it to himself as he worked on the finishing touches of his “Saint Love” dress; an adorable pink number complete with small ribbon strategically placed all over the hem of the garment. Sometimes, a paycheck was something one had to be desperate to achieve.

“Metsumura-sama,” He inquired. “What am I actually going to get paid this week?”

He really needed to fix his car; a half working carburetor wasn’t going to get him anywhere. This morning he had been forced to walk the six miles to work; after half an hour of attempting to tinker with his engine. Immediately upon arrival, he’d been informed that his pay would be docked for his tardiness. He also had to shop for groceries again; lettuce and carrots had been a staple the last week and a half, which was why his usually slender body was looking close to sickly skinny lately. He also had to pay electricity. And his rent was due. So was the gas, water and trash bills.

Actually, how on earth was it possible that he still had an apartment to live in? He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d paid rent. It wouldn’t surprise Sesshoumaru to know his landlord completely forgot he was renting out the old, out of date basement.

“You’re getting 34,000 this week.” That was almost enough to freeze the intern in his place. 34,000 yen was not enough to pay his bills; just his cell, rent and a tiny bit of food. Honestly, how was anyone supposed to survive off that miniscule paycheck? Did Sesshoumaru look like a catered, spoiled, “I’m only working for buying clothing and kawaiiiiii stufffffsss?” No, he didn’t.

~Now listen~

~Not a dime, I cant pay my rent~

~I can barely make it through the week~

“If it isn’t rude of me to ask,” He paused at his sewing machine and wiped the sweat trickling down his forehead off with one of his work-required latex gloves. Metsumura hadn’t allowed him to work without them, something about “a man’s essence on the clothing would ruin it completely”. Sesshoumaru didn’t need to point out that a man was making half of the dresses she sold, because that just wouldn’t compute in her tiny skull. She was a young, stubborn girl that believed men were a trouble to all the world, and that girls should always look prettier, to make men buckle at their feet. That was what the “Infectious Saint” label signified in the first place. ‘Beauty is Power!’; what a crockpot full of lies and chemically over-treated milk tea colored hair. “Why am I only getting paid 34,000? When I accepted this job directly after the interview, I believe we settled on 50,000 a week?”

The only reason she’d hired the poverty stricken Sesshoumaru was because he was cheap; she wouldn’t have to pay a high salary to keep him on staff. He was willing to work for close to anything, and he had admitted it to her the day she had interviewed him. Not the best piece of information to feed to a potential employer, as he had learned when interviewing people for his father’s company, but she was his last chance. Despite all that, even the great former Chief Financial Officer of Taisho Corporations of had his limits.

 He flashed her a look, a spark in his eyes, similar to an open flame, waiting to engulf and destroy anything in his path. It was a gaze he once used under his father’s employment. Now, with the old man in the hospital and no one underneath him, his Sesshoumaru Stare-Glare was reserved only for people he despised.

His boss’s falsely purple eyes narrowed in his direction, not backing down from her towering worker. He didn’t know what her real eye color was; she always wore the special “manga/anime eye” contacts. They made her iris’ huge, and the color of the lenses themselves were always brightly unnatural colors; crimson, purple, lime green, silver, you name it, Mestumura had probably worn it at least once, but her favorite color was purple. It made her eyes, “More Beautiful to trick men like the pigs the are.”

Jaded little shit of a feminazi, no?

“I believe,” Her soft voice held layers of menace, her hatred of him completely apparent; and simply because he possessed a penis. “That you did not show up for the gallery walk Wednesday, so I deemed it appropriate to dock your pay. Because of your absence, I was forced to find a female take your place last minute.”

“Excuse me?” He asked incredulously. “You specifically informed me not to show up for that show, because my presence would ‘ruin your show’.” What was this woman’s mental damage?

Metsumura rolled her eyes and ‘tsked’ him under her breath. Sesshoumaru could almost see the clock in her head turning in thought. Too bad it was a rusted clock that needed to be dumped into a toxic waste site and replaced with... oh, a brain perhaps?

“Well, Taisho,” The absence of an honorific completely irritated the once proud man. Was it that hard to add the “-san”? He would have no problems calling her Mestumura-san, but of course, she was above him because she was a woman, and he was dog shit  a woman would wipe off her shoe; he’d forgotten that part. “It seems that you need to understand that it is your fault. If you simply were a woman, things wouldn’t be so troublesome for me. It is one thing to have your presence while creating my garments tainting them, it is another thing entirely to have you actually... present at one of my intimate fashions walks.”

Intimate was not the right word. ‘Intimate’ should only be reserved for an outing with a loved one, a nice romantic dinner, or, hell, the random fuck everyone just needs once in a while; speaking of which, his boss was in desperate need of a nice roll in the sack. Not necessarily with a man, of course. Sesshoumaru wasn’t a misogynistic asshole whom believed every woman needs a man, or they’re just not right. Mestumura was just a girl that needed an orgasm that came from a living being rather than the large amount of plastic toys he just knew were stashed in her office.

“Troublesome for you?” He demanded. Honestly, he couldn’t take it anymore. If he had to work like a five year old stuck in a sweat shop in Indonesia, he had better at least be paid a decent, working man’s salary. Instead he was stuck in Laceland, covered in thread and scrap fabric everyday with a bitch barking orders expecting him to be a performing monkey. He glanced down at the sweetly pink dress he’d made, wishing he could afford to buy something like this for Kagome; she loved anything adorable and lacey, and he hadn’t been able to buy her anything lately. After that thought slid through his mind, a brilliant idea ensued.

Making extra sure that the dress was finished, and noticing a single stitch on the dress, fixing it had been a simple task, it was ready to be sent to the factory to make more just like it, and Sesshoumaru had it. However, it wasn’t going to ever arrive at the factory. “Well then, Mestumura-sama, I think you should simply look for an employee that’ll actually tolerate your bullshit.”

Shocked, the stick figure girl’s right hand landed on her chest, a sketching pencil onto the floor in an exaggerated clatter. Really, the chit knew how to make everything she did over the top and dramatic. How, on earth, had he ended up with a girl so much more wonderful?

“Excuse me?” She asked, quite shocked at Sesshoumaru’s outburst. Apparently the words, “Fuck” and “You” were close to being needed in order for the simpleton to understand.

The tall, graceful man rolled his eyes and ran his right hand through his now cropped short silver locks. Compared to how long it had been, below the waist when he had been working for his father, a stylish new cut landing directly below his neck was extremely short for him. He loved his bangs, though. Those Visual Kei knew what they were doing when they decided to crop their bangs into A symmetrical styles. Sesshoumaru had chosen for it to be a longer type, his right eye was always visible as opposed to his covered left.

“I quit,” He spoke slowly, as if attempting to explain to a child how mommy and daddy happened to wake up one day to a baby on their front porch. However, this girl would have been raised by parents who claimed babies were ripped from the Devil’s beard. “I believe that even your asinine mind is able to comprehend such simple words. A child can, so I should hope you can, did you have a chance to finish middle school, by chance?”

Daggers were glared into his skin, and at this point, he really didn’t care if he got the 34,000 yen. He was having fun berating her, and he was on a roll; nothing could stop him once that happened. Honestly, he didn’t need to sit there, day after day, taking all the anti-man shit that this bitch peddled and threw at him. Sesshoumaru was plain sick of it. Not even a rapist deserved this much pain; castration would be so much better.

“Fine,” She chided. Her bony arms crossed in front of her, practically swimming in her princess-style lolita sleeves. “But don’t plan for me to actually pay you.”

“That’s fine,” He snipped in return. Snatching up the dress he had just finished making for his now former boss, the proud Taisho left the room, racing to the elevator before Metsumura’s wrath could reach him. It was a large, and would fit Kagome’s lusciously curvy figure wonderfully.  “I’ll just take this!”

“You son of a bitch!” He smirked at he heard the words shouted behind him, safe as the elevator doors closed. She wouldn’t waste her precious time chasing after something “as disgusting” as a man, because she was a woman, and women should never chase men, they are pigs. Sesshoumaru sighed and leaned against the back wall of the moving box, thankful that he’d never have to deal with the monster lady again.

Maybe his friend Kikyo could help her out. The expensive call-girl had once brought that ass Naraku to his knees with desire, maybe she could work her hooker-magic on Metsumura. What the hell was Metsumura’s first name, anyway?

Whatever, that wasn’t important.

~Saturday night I’d like to make my girl~

~But right now I can’t make ends meet~

“I feel irrational, so confrontational, to tell the tru-”

His cell phone rang, a song he’d loved since it came out, by a band he’d seen in concert once; he’d claimed it was a “business trip” to California; his father and InuYasha were completely fooled. They always believed him when he claimed to be visiting another department for company reasons, when he actually snuck out to watch a band perform (he loved music with a passion) or to see his precious Kagome.

“Taisho.” He answered his cell like he used to; with the dignity of a CFO if his father’s stocks hadn’t crashed. Son of a bitch should have listened to him when he said to sell some of the stocks in order to have more money to finance their company. Had not his father made him Chief Financial Officer? Instead, the old fool had insisted on keeping the stocks, which didn’t help when their main stock crashed. The shock had been too much, and he’s slipped into an ulcer ridden, stressed induced coma. Well, probably not a coma, but he was too weak to leave the hospital.

“Hey Sesshoumaru,” Her angelic sing-song voice always spoke more to him than words ever could. “How are you, baby?”

For some inane reason, he loved when she called him a pet name. Before her, he’d never allowed any woman he laid to address him as anything except “Sesshoumaru-sama”; he had believed anything “cute” such as “baby, honey, sugar, or sweetheart” were completely ridiculous and should never be used to address him.

However, the first time Kagome had called him, “sweetheart”, his heart had leapt. “Sugar” had him weak in the knees. “Honey” had him smile when depressed, and “Baby” was the most adorable word to ever leave her pink lips.

“Hey, Kagome,” He fought against it, but smiled as he imagined his sweet Kagome on the other line. If she was home, she was at her desk, leaning on her elbows over half-finished math homework and biting the end of her yellow number two pencil as she spoke to him. If she was playing one of her beloved video games, it would be on pause and waiting for her. That in itself was a wonder; so many men and women would try to balance a phone while talking to their loved ones. Pause menus excited for a reason. “I’m fine; just getting off work.

It wasn’t a lie, he really was getting off work. He just didn’t get to go back in the morning. Oh, come to think of it, the next morning would be Saturday; Kagome had no work and her only college classes were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe, just maybe, he’d get lucky tonight.

“I was thinking of what we might do tonight,” He could hear the smile in her voice, and his lips titled of their own accord into a miniscule smirk. “How about we have dinner together? I’ll meet you at your place and we can go out to eat?”

“That sounds close to perfect, sweetheart,” It was the endearment he loved calling her the most. She once told him it was her favorite little pet name he called her by. It made her weak in the knees every time she heard it, and distracted her from whatever she was doing. “Which one?”

The static laced background of his receiver barely managed to pick up a feminine voice in the background.

“Hi...ashi.... table three... please?” His phone was such a piece of shit. While he could hear Kagome alright, anyone standing three inches away from their phones speaker would be lost. What he wouldn’t give to have his iPhone back, but that bill was murderous for one person. Maybe he could con Kagome into splitting a family plan with him.

“Well shit,” He tried hard not to chuckle at his girlfriend’s huff. She really was adorable when she swore. “I need to go. The cafe’s getting its Friday afternoon rush, I’ll see if I can sneak us some cookies for tonight, okay? If I can, I’ll grab ingredients and make us a Lover’s Parfait for desert tonight?”

Ah, she was at work. That meant that she was dressed up in one of her gorgeous gothic lolita dresses he’d purchased for her on their one month anniversary. She had almost swooned and implied that it was an expensive dress, and he didn’t need to spoil her with it. He had shaken her head and stolen a kiss from her. The many dresses he’d purchased for her was actually due to her job; she was a ‘Big Sister’, a girl employed by Momo’s Cafe; an extremely popular gothic lolita cafe ran by an eccentric lolita, her sister and a cousin of theirs.

Sesshomaru sighed happily as he imagined her smiling as she took orders, whispering that she hoped they would try a nice iced coffee or one of Momo’s famous parfaits. The bright happiness she possessed simply by working there was what had caught Sesshoumaru’s eye in the first place. His father’s half brother had insisted on taking him there once, and he had recognized Kagome right away; he’d seen her with his idiot half brother more often than he would have liked.

“Sounds nice,” He nodded in thought as he stepped out of the death contraption that was the elevator in his boss’ building. “Call me when you get off work.”

“‘Kay, I love you.” Her voice held so much truth Sesshoumaru was afraid he’d melt from the pure intentions of his girlfriend. He could spend forever listening to her speak, her very being soothed him like nothing else.

“I love you too.” With that, he closed his cell phone, calculating how many minutes he’d just spent. A little under two, which meant he was still under his monthly quota. Counting minutes was a new thing to him, and potentially spending all his minutes in one phone call to Kagome could never happen again if he wanted to keep his cell phone.

Wait, she wanted to go out to dinner.

“Fuck.” He sighed and buried his sweat and grime covered face on the dress he had just stolen as realization set in.

Jesus Christ.

~I’m always workin’, slavin’ everyday~

~Gotta get away from that same old, same old~

The six mile walk back to the hell hole that was his apartment was a little hellish. He’d been whistled at and cat called so many times by women and a few drunk men that he wondered is he shouldn’t be a prostitute, it would probably be amazing money; maybe he should call Kikyo and ask her for pricing advice.

Walking out of the elevator back at his apartment complex, Sesshoumaru shook his head at his basement level apartment. No one else in the whole complex wanted to live there, so the manager rented it to him for not even 2,500 yen a month. That was how crappy this place really was. The lights only worked when they wanted to, if anyone in the entire apartment complex flushed a toilet, he’d get scalded in the shower, the floor wasn’t insulated, so his feet were almost never bare on his floor; there were so many things wrong with the place, that 2,500 a month was really pushing it.  

Of course, Sesshoumaru had moved most of what had been in his penthouse apartment into this one, so the interior’s floor was covered with expensive Italian rugs, a white leather sofa important from France, a desk made in Italy, and a wardrobe filled with expensive Armani suits. The ceiling was strangely high for a basement, and the lighting was excellent when it actually decided to work.

Yes, there had been a day when Sesshoumaru had been one of the richest men in Japan. Now, he was two levels above a hobo.

How quickly financial stability can fall into ruin. He thought bitterly as he took time to quickly dust his desk and bed frame. The silence of the basement gave the man chills. Knowing the cricket absent place needed music, he picked up his iPod off the dark cherrywood desk and hooked it up to his iHome, which he had incidentally wired to the whole apartment, a tiny speaker in every corner. Those actually worked, unlike his lights. A few seconds later, music filled the room; brilliant guitar riffs by a very talented guitarist spoke to Sesshoumaru, in a way that little else did.

“I need a chance just to get away,” Sesshoumaru’s own voice joined in with Poison’s lead singer Bret Micheals’ raspy eighties metal voice, matching pitch perfectly and flipping his short, rockstar hair out of his way as he grabbed a broom and swept the long shaft underneath him, vial the small black handle. Hey, Kagome wasn’t there; he had every right to act as stupid as he wanted; the adrenaline rush that comes from quitting a job tends to do that to a person. “If you could hear me think, this is what I’d say.”

Sesshoumaru’s hips gyrated against his broom’s shaft to the rhythm of the song as he belted out the chorus. The flickering lights cast all sorts of shadows gleaming all over him, making him seem to be the rock star he appeared to be. Nothing ever interrupted his music without dire consequences. Every thrust of his hips onto the poll somehow just made him feel sexy. Like he could be a girl’s walking wet dream if he tried hard enough.

“Don’t need nothing, but a good time,” He slipped his eyes shut and covered his golden gems with an old pair of aviator sunglasses; the silver chrome faded from so many years of use. Once donned, Sesshoumaru spun to see a mirror on the coffee table near him, something Kagome had left behind a few days ago. “How can I resist?”

The man passed himself a quick kiss via the mirror, and the term “washed up eighties wannabe” slipped to mind. Not that Poison was a washed up band, of course. His lean legs bent slightly and sent the graceful man into the air; his left leg swiping a quick kick before landing perfectly crouched onto the imaginary microphone stand.

“Ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ but a good time,” There were no more problems, there was simply music. Everything melted away and suddenly Sesshoumaru was giddy with a million endorphins flying through his system. A free hand slid under his white t-shirt, riding up the white material until his phenomenally built torso came into clear view to every invisible entity in the room. The shiny glow of his chest glistened to no one in particular, and his smooth voice continued to belt out lyrics. “And it don’t get better than this.”

The man placed both feet on a clear path to the kitchen on the solid linoleum floor, slippery as hell in the socks he wore. A silly smirk plastered all over his face like a drunken sailor on a foreign shot of tequila, and the Sesshoumaru shoved his left foot against the floor, sending him skidding the distance to the kitchen.

“They say I spend my money on women and wine,” He opened the ‘fridge and grabbed a water bottle. Thinking it made a fun temporary microphone, he quickly chugged a fair bit and held it on top of the broomstick as he closed it, singing into the quickly warming plastic. “But I couldn’t tell you where I spent last night.”

It was hot in his apartment, and turning on the air conditioner just wasn’t an option for the poor ex-employed guy. However, it was so hot the white t-shirt he still barely had on stuck to the gargantuan amount of sweat dripping from his chiseled chest. So, instead, he did the next best thing, and tugged the shirt right off his torso and yanked it completely off with one hand.

“I’m really sorry about the shape I’m in,” He twirled the fabric overhead while singing the next part of the verse in his perfect pitch, and sent his clothing flying across the room. Devoid of a shirt that was doing nothing to keep him cool, the once stoic man smirked as he shook his hips for all he was worth in immaculate timing. “I just like my fun every now and then.”

As his sound system blared the second chorus, Sesshoumaru busied himself with taking an honest to kami twelve second shower to get rid of the fashion-laced grime plastered over his body. The hot water and soap felt amazing on is silken skin, and he mourned the fact that he soon would not even be able to afford his high quality bathing essentials. He knew he’d rebuild Taisho Corporations himself if his father didn’t; he possessed the skills and knew the language, and soon with dance the dance with the best of them, once again.

Except, this time, he’d be much more relaxed about things. With Kagome at his side, it truely felt as if he could rule the world if he tried.

Washing his short hair felt amazing; as he had no waist length hair to tangle with any longer. Turning off the water, he blindly reached for the white fluffy towel he loved with a passion and wrapped it around his waist. Feeling amazing and fresh, the tall young man stepped back into his basement studio apartment and shook his head vigorously, droplets of water flew in every which direction.

~You see I raise a toast to all of us~

~Who are breakin’ our backs every day~

There was nothing better after dealing with a full day’s worth of bullshit than a nice drink, and for Sesshoumaru, it was always the foreign brand Crown Royale. His reasoning behind the particular whiskey? Cheap enough to still afford, and it goes down smooth. He stalked to the refrigerator where he kept his favored alcohol and grabbed a metal shot glass with the initials “S.T.” engraved on the side. They were worn etchings, almost as if he’d kept the glass since his twenty-first birthday; and he had, actually. Anything his girl gave him, he kept under lock and key; never got rid of it, and never lost it.

They’d gotten together when he turned twenty, she was eighteen, and now he was twenty five; how pathetic. Sesshoumaru frowned as he tossed shot, loving his throat’s tolerance for the liquid; he now simply felt a mild sting, giving him room to enjoy the taste more than feeling the burn.

Five whole years, and he hadn’t bothered to ask for her hand in marriage when he still had the money to support the two of them. Of course, she could work all she wanted, he wanted her too. It was just, Kagome’s love was art, and Sesshoumaru knew she might not be offered too many positions, as Japan was filled with art savvy individuals.

~If wantin’ the good life is such a crime~

~Lord, then put me away~

His head was lost in the clouds to his discontent; he should get ready to go out with Kagome, even if he didn’t have the money to cover any kind of food or attraction this time. She would be getting off of work soon; he knew because it had taken at least two hours to walk back to his place. He swirled the whiskey in the regal crown shaped bottle, and didn’t notice the door to his apartment opening over the sweet melody blaring out of his speakers.

“Baby, are you having Crown without me?” Catching him off guard, his Kagome had managed to straddle his narrow hips and snatch the amber liquid right out of his cradling palm. She smirked and threw her head back, sending her luscious raven locks flying upwards and falling obediently to her shoulder blades. Along with the music playing the background, she slowly rocked her hips on top of his. She was clad in a two piece lolita ensemble; the burgundy set she’d gotten herself for Christmas the previous year, and under her skirt, he could feel the folds of her womanhood resting on his cock. The thin fabric of her bloomers and his towel did nothing to shield their most intimate body parts from each other, and Sesshoumaru felt the familiar sting of pleasure rapidly pooling in his abdomen. His breathing hitched with every rock over her hips, his member quickly growing stiff with monumental ecstasy.

 Sesshoumaru’s expert golden orbs caught a bead of the Crown escape her sinful lips and watched for a moment as it freely caressed her jawbone. The ability to resist her diminished as he tugged her forward, his tongue tracing the alcohol’s path up her jawline, ending in a chaste kiss on her always-sweet lips.

“No baby,” He joked. “You know I’d never have Crown without you.” The half-empty bottle in his left hand slowly fell from his grasp. A thump on the ground was never heard,  and the playful smile on Kagome’s face reached her glittering hazel eyes. Her bottom lip disappeared under pearl colored teeth, and her hands went to work, giving the man a show without needing anything special to go along with it.

~Don’t need nothin’, but a good time~

One hand disappeared underneath her shirt, and he could see her cupping her left breast, kneading it softly, and in turn sending Sesshoumaru’s member right to attention. He fought back the groan she wanted to hear, and clutched the arms of the chair he rested on to avoid touching his beautiful goddess. She then leaned down and captured his lips in a rough lock. A single spark between them was all it took to bring

Sesshoumaru to the brink of insanity, and a million waves of absolute heaven flowed between them. Her lips were soft, as they always were, and they moved against each other with every knowledge of what the other loved. Sesshoumaru bit down on her lip, eliciting a soft growl from her throat. His tongue stole the opportunity to slip past her lips and goad her tongue into a private dance, meant only for the two of them.

~How can I resist?~

It was almost a pity he didn’t have the chance to get his throbbing erection under control as the woman dug her nails into his shoulder and got him on his feet.

“Kagome,” He winced as he stood at full height, letting her nails dig deeper into her skin.  She never claimed to be sadistic before, was he perhaps seeing yet another kinky side of his love? The girl always did like to keep his guessing. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” She laughed and wandered over to the stereo, turning it off completely. She turned to face him again, a somber, deadly serious expression on her face. “But I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

Suddenly, Sesshoumaru’s stomach tied in knots. Why did the girl look so serious? She’d only been this dead serious when her grandfather died; it had taken all her strength not to cry her heart out the day of his funeral. She had decided to be ther efor her mother and tears just weren’t acceptable. Which begged Sesshoumaru, swelling lump under the towel forgotten, to ask what was going on.

~Ain’t Lookin’ for nothing’, but a good time~

Horrified terror now swimming rampant in his veins, Seshoumaru followed her to where she stood, trying to look irritated that she’d cut off one of his favorite songs before it was over.

“You can tell me in two seconds.” He moaned, switching the stereo back on. He secretly prayed his voice hadn’t cracked. “You know I love this song.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, making the man feel like he’d just slapped her in the face and told her to get out of his life.

“What?” He asked. Trying to avoid what was coming proved pointless. Flipping off the stereo once again, silence was their only companion. “I’m sorry?”

“I might as well not do this at all,” She looked to the ground and shook her head. “Since you’re being a prat, but, I need to be brave about this. How many years have we been dating exactly?”


No.

No.

She wasn’t going to call everything off, was she? A few months before they’d gotten together, she had still been pining after his younger half-brother. Was she here to tell him she was planning on going back to InuYasha or something?

“Five years,” His throat was suddenly dry and he really wanted a full bottle of Crown. “Why?”

Her eyes lit up, and her pretty lips hypnotized his eyes.

“We both know you’re not the one who’s going to do this,” Without taking her gaze away from his eyes, ice flowed through Sesshoumaru’s body, all the way to his fingertips. To be more precise, his left hand’s finger tips. The left hand which his girlfriend now held in her hand.

And as if everything happened in slow motion, his golden eyes widened as she fell to one knee and smiled at him.

~And it Don’t Get Better Than This~

“Taisho Sesshoumaru,” She spoke clearly, taking a small velvet box out of her skirt pocket and opening it right in front of his eyes. Inside was a bright silver band, decorated with a single miniscule teardrop ruby. It was undoubtedly expensive for Kagome’s small bakery budget; she must’ve saved for a while to afford it. That knowledge almost brought tears to the proud man’s eyes. “Will you marry me?”

A smirk on his face, she swiped the ring from the box and slipped it onto his ring finger. With his usual, cool as ice persona, he answered in a way that was purely Sesshoumaru.

“This Sesshoumaru’s answer is that he will acquiesce to your request.” He smiled and kissed the back of her hand.

“I also have something for you, sweetheart,” A smile lit up his features at her excitedly puzzled look. “It’s not much, but I thought of you when I made it today.”

“Ew,” She rolled her eyes and huffed again. “That’s right, you did work today, didn’t you?  Was that annoying lame-o anything remotely close to nice today?”

Sesshoumaru scoffed here he stood and made his way to his bed where the dress lay. Luckily, Kagome hadn’t followed, and couldn’t see the dress on his bed.

“Of course not,” He sighed. Searching his drawers for a pair of boxers and settled on ones that were white silk and possessed deep red lotus embroidery on them. Slipping them on, he discarded the towel onto his desk’s chair and tucked the dress behind him. “I also have something for you.”

Her eyebrows peaked with interest as he walked closer to her, a confession ready for her to hear.

“I quit today,” He said. “But don’t worry, I’ll find another one to make by with before I fix the Taisho Corp. nonsense.”

“Oh really?” She asked. She took a moment to remove the large bow headband she wore and plopped it on the couch. “Well, I can’t blame you for it; I would’ve quit that job too.”

He smiled, and held the dress in front of her. The stars in her eyes shone bright as she clapped her hands and giggled with glee.

“I love it!” The excited mass of laughter jumped into his arms and her arms quickly wrapped around his neck. “It’s so cute Sesshoumaru!”

“Really?” He asked. His arms squeezed her tight, as if he was afraid to let her go again. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“No way,” He felt her shake her head and jump out of his embrace. “Do you know what this is?”

“No,” He tilted his head questioningly and held up the dress for her to take. “What is it?”

Kagome grasped the shoulders of the dress and scurried over to Sesshoumaru’s only full length mirror and admired how it looked against her silhouette.

“My wedding dress,” Her smiled reflected back at him, and a tight knot in his chest felt it was squeezing around his heart. “That’s what this is.”

Like he said before, there really were no words to describe how amazing Higurashi Kagome really was.

No, it really didn’t get better than that.

~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~

Aki's Note: Hope you liked! :D