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Keeping the Moon
sandalwoods
Chapter Six: Tastes like Butter
(I don’t own Inuyasha.)
Sesshoumaru let out a sigh, standing still a moment at the top of his stairwell, staring down in satisfaction as his servants bustled to and fro in his foyer, their uniforms a blur of elegant black and white as they sped to do their duties.
“(There is a spot on the floor! Where is Mary? I need her to clean it!)” Jaken hollered, his face turning puce, his Spanish clipped and piercing.
“(Yes Sir!),” a maid answered hastily, scurrying away.
“Oh mi dios,” Jaken wailed, pinching the ridge of his nose, a very impressive feat for a man possessing such a large one.
“Jaken,” Sesshoumaru lazily called, leaning onto the banister. “Is it dinner time yet?”
“Yes Sir, we’re having pasta with sun dried tomatoes…I, er, dried them myself!” Jaken smiled a hesitant smile that succeeded in only making him seem menacing.
“Hmm, that’s what I pay you for, isn’t it?” Sesshoumaru remarked, voice delicately laced with sarcasm as he swept past, heading leisurely towards the dining room. “Go get the girl, if she isn’t already stuffing herself silly on breadsticks.”
“Oh!” Jaken exclaimed, hurriedly scurrying towards his master. “She’s skimping out on dinner—says she’s too tired, though I think someone has a little problem with eating, if you get my meaning…”
Sesshoumaru made the slightest of irritated sounds. “You shouldn’t talk—we can’t forget your flirtation with bulimia, can we? Now, find me some sort of picnic basket and a dead rat, quick as you can.”
“A dead rat, Sir?” Jaken asked, completely taken down a peg due to the gibeabout his teenager years,a timewhen he hadwanted to be slim and broody, for his life’s goal was to be the lead guitarist for a punk band called Pond Scum.
“Yes, for dessert,” Sesshoumaru replied, plucking out a red poppy from one of the numerous floral arrangements located throughout the house, this particular one located in the hallway leading to the kitchen. “Kagome will appreciate the home cooking.”
“I like this,” she said stupidly to herself, grinning at nothing in particular. “I can get used to living here.”
Knock. Knock.
“Oooh, it must be Rin with my food,” she said gleefully, scrambling upright and nearly tripping in her haste to answer the door, her mind set purposefully on eating all the carbohydrates she could. “Coming!” she called, twisting the doorknob open.
To her displeasure, it was only Sesshoumaru, eating a Popsicle of all things.
“Rin, if that’s you under there, I must applaud you on finding such a hideous costume,” Kagome said, scowling.
“Hello to you too, Hungry Jack,” Sesshoumaru replied pleasantly, finishing the red layer of the Popsicle and moving onto the orange. “You certainly do make a guest feel special.”
“Where’s my food?” Kagome demanded, belligerent and irritable.
Instead of answering, Sesshoumaru casually cocked his head to the right, looking amusedly at the heaps of items littering her floor. “I notice that all the ‘Do Not Remove’ tags on your things are missing—aren’t you worried you might have to return an item someday?”
Letting out a sound, a cross between a screech and a howl, Kagome roughly pushed Sesshoumaru away from her doorstep and slammed her door, leaving him laughing crazily outside her guest home.
After a few more moments of uninterrupted laughter, Sesshoumaru gasped for air and daintily knocked on her door again. “If you open up I’ll give you my Popsicle,” he offered, ever cheerful.
“Don’t think I even want your Popsicle,” Kagome screamed, stomping back to her previous position on the floor, trying to regain what peace she had felt.
Unfortunately for her, he wouldn’t stop laughing.
“Um, lady, do you want to order pizza or not?”
“Er, yes, can you tell me if there are any specials?”
By then he had reached the green layer of the popsicle, his favorite.
Savoring the limey taste, he stared at her doorbell, a wicked thought coming to mind.
How I do love doorbells, and that annoying sound they make when you press them so—
With his finger held firmly over the little white button, he listened to the dulcet sounds of Kagome’s enraged screaming.
“What the fucking hell do you think you’re fucking doing you fucking—” Kagome opened the door, her face red as a tomato, glaring pitchforks and daggers at him.
“—fucking wonderful, sexy, rich, powerful, breathtaking—” Sesshoumaru started listing off, counting on his fingers.
Kagome slammed the door again, but not before a frantic attempt at kicking his shins.
Utterly enamored, Sesshoumaru fought hard to not fully give himself to the moment and giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome neighbor boy.
Neighbor girl, he thought wryly.
Finally, having finished his Popsicle, Sesshoumaru found to his great delight that Kagome had ordered pizza.
“Oh, stupid girl,” he remarked to the delivery boy, who looked at him with misgivings as Sesshoumaru handed over a wad of money. “Keep the change,” he said, before opening the pizza box and looking at the contents, barely noticing the delivery boy’s excited whoop or his scramble to leave the premises, eager and hoping that Sesshoumaru wouldn’t notice that he had handed over eighty dollars for a pizza no larger than his head.
Nonchalantly, Sesshoumaru knocked again on Kagome’s door.
Slipping the contact into the case, she rushed to answer the knock, her hunger making her nervous and overly excitable.
“Thank God you’re here—” she started, her money snatched up from the couch and ready in her hands—“I’m famished.”
“Oh, really,” Sesshoumaru said, barely paying her any attention as he picked off pineapple bits and ate them.
“What are you doing to my pizza?” Kagome asked, horrified as he started eating the sausage bits.
“I’m eating all the good parts,” he replied, poking at a pepperoni.
“No, you’re contaminating my food, that’s what you’re doing! Give me that!” She brusquely knocked his hands aside and took the pizza, the said food item looking pitiful and abused. “Oh baby, what has that cruel man done to you?” Kagome asked it sadly, shutting the lid of the box because the sight of the carnage hurt her too much.
She threw the box down on the floor, looking angrily up at the man leaning against her doorway who was idly swirling a Popsicle stick. “You owe me another pizza, and new pillows, and a tube of Neosporin, and a newspaper, and—”
“And your dignity?” Sesshoumaru asked, prolonging the “y” sound.
“YES!” Kagome answered unexpectedly, shocking them both a little.
“Oh, I was only teasing, but if you want it back I think I might have it in a shoebox somewhere in my room,” he said, smiling. “Might I use your trashcan? I don’t want to litter, since I love mother earth and all.” He gestured at his Popsicle stick.
Looking like a woman beaten, Kagome only nodded wearily and dragged herself over to her couch, collapsing down onto the floor like a dropped marionette. “You obviously know where the trashcan is, since you chucked all my makeup in it.”
“You women and your frilly-frills,” he said, throwing away his trash. “You don’t need the makeup since you look perfectly fine without it.”
Kagome was disarmed by the compliment.
“Except for that one time at the coffee shop when you looked like Courtney Love on one of her bad days…”
Kagome gained back her equilibrium, and Sesshoumaru became a jerk again.
“…That’s not to say that Courtney Love has a good day…”
She flipped open the pizza box and found a slice that didn’t look ravished.
“And your makeup makes you look like such a prostitute. Oh, having that pizza I see. You better put that down, Rin is having kittens because I told her not to give you dinner; I have to escort your sorry person to the main house ‘for a proper meal’ unless I want her to make me eat healthy again.”
Sesshoumaru made a face, bordering on a grimace. “All that asparagus and carrots made me irritable for weeks.”
He paused, looking down at her, watching as she swallowed a bite and, strangely enough, obediently put down the pizza slice. “Asparagus gives me gas. Anyways, lead the way, I’m starving.”
Kagome stood up and found a napkin to wipe her hands with, looking expectantly up at him when she was done, because he was still almost a foot taller than she was. To her alarm, he was staring at her eyes.
“Why are your eyes two different colors? One’s all nice and blue and the other is this…mud color,” he remarked, frowning.
Kagome found herself scowling again, wondering if her face would stick that way from all the practice it had been getting. “The muddy color happens to be my real eye color, and the blue is strictly Acuvue,” she said, reaching up and carefully removing the remaining contact.
To her displeasure, he was still staring.
“My god, your contacts are the size of dish plates.”
“Well we are anime characters, you know! I can’t help it if Rumiko Takahashi made me this way!”
“Don’t use the god’s name in vain, she might smite you.”
“Whatever, let’s go Preacher Sam.”
Kagome jammed her feet into some house slippers and opened her front door, looking expectantly at Sesshoumaru. He in turn blinked a little at her, wondering at something.
“Hey,” he started, finally moving towards the door. “Want to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire after this?”
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Mozaltov It’s A Boy!
Jeff: I apologize for Sandy being such a tool.