Author’s Note: Well, I had hoped to get this chapter finished and posted last weekend, but I ended up spending most of the weekend (not to mention Monday and Tuesday) solving a cascade of computer issues. (Don’t ask…) That put me a little behind schedule—sorry! But it all worked out in the end (more or less), so I managed to finish this chapter later in the week.

Also, just FYI, I made a tiny (yet significant) change to the previous chapter: I changed the Russian Tea House plan from lunch to dinner. As I was mapping out the next couple of chapters, I realized I had way too much I needed to accomplish before that meal for them to do it all before lunch… (--grin--)

This week’s chapter title is a song by one Mr. William Joel…

Playing With Fire

Chapter 10: Pressure

Kagome awoke early the next morning and tiptoed around the room, opening and closing drawers as silently as possible, taking a couple of aspirin to banish the remnants of her hangover, and slipping silently out of the room. When she heard Inuyasha resume snoring on the other side of the door, she breathed a sigh of relief and continued on her way down to the gym.

She had the place to herself, which was just as well—she didn’t particularly feel like making small talk today. In fact, she didn’t feel much like talking or thinking at all. Every time she thought, she seemed to flash back to the near miss the night before, which in turn lead to a flood of self-recriminations.

She stepped onto the treadmill and powered it up, beginning with a steady walk to warm up her muscles. Pumping her arms back and forth determinedly with each step, she focused on her breathing, making each inhale deep and even. When she increased her speed to a jog, she patterned her breathing to match her steps—three steps for each inhale, two for each exhale—so she would begin each exhale on alternating feet, evening out the harshest moments of impact.

What the hell had she been thinking?

Well, that was simple—she hadn’t been thinking. She’d been drunk off her ass, and it had been dark, and it had been late, and she had been suggestible, and he had been there, and he had made a move, and she had gone along with it. That was all.

Except…she hadn’t been that drunk.

She punched the speed of the treadmill up a few notches, concentrated on the breath expanding harshly against her ribcage and then being forced back out.

She could still feel his hands against her skin, warm and hard, yet surprisingly gentle. And his lips; as awkward and graceless as that first pass had been, she couldn’t deny the spark she had felt deep inside her, even from that first touch. She’d kissed many a clumsy frog over the years, especially in college—but this had been different. She hadn’t felt that vague sense of grittiness that always seemed to accompany a one-night stand—the simultaneous shame and pride in the knowledge that he was interested in her only for her body, nothing more. And that was an incredibly dangerous impression to have, because it meant that either he was very good at pretending to want more…or he actually did want more, whether he knew it or not.

Or perhaps, worse yet, that she was the one who wanted more, and it was throwing her radar out of whack.

She shook her head to banish the thought and punched the speed up a few more notches, until it took all of her concentration to keep up with the grueling pace. When her left foot landed badly, she managed to catch herself on the handrails and move her feet to the sides of the treadmill just in time to avoid a nasty fall. It was at that moment that she noticed she had forgotten to clip on the emergency break cord.

She picked up the clip sitting on the control panel and turned it over in her hand wryly, then tossed it back into the empty cup holder with a sigh. “Fuck.”

Inuyasha flinched at the knock on the door, then groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow and pulling his blanket up over his head.

The knock came again, a little louder.

“Fuck off!” he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

The three loud, sharp knocks that answered brooked no argument, and he lurched up from the couch involuntarily. “I’m up, I’m up…” he grumbled, untangling his legs from the blanket and stumbling off the cushions and onto the floor. Yawning and scratching an ear, he ambled over and reached for the chain lock, frowning slightly to find that it was already open. He glanced automatically at the bed, and confirmed that Kagome was missing. Just as well—she was the last person in the world he wanted to see right now.

When he opened the door, Kikyo met his rumpled appearance with a cool smirk. “Morning, sunshine.”

Okay, second to last person.

He turned away, shoving the door closed again without a word—but Kikyo caught it deftly and followed him into the room, unfazed.

“I see you’re your usual chipper self,” she said dryly, flipping on the overhead light as he climbed back onto the couch and rolled over to face away from her.

“What are you doing here, Kikyo? It’s like seven in the morning.”

“It’s nine-thirty, Inuyasha.”

“Six of one,” he replied.

She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded his back shrewdly. “Rough night?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that?”

“I see. Can I take that as a yes?”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah. Thought so.” Brushing a piece of lint from her tailored skirt, Kikyo took a seat on the foot of the bed, crossing her legs elegantly at the knees. “Then I take it you’re not interested in hearing what I’ve uncovered so far with regards to the poisoning and the difficulties with your travel arrangements?”

He didn’t answer, but one of his ears flicked toward her nonetheless, making her smirk.

“Come on—up-up-up,” she admonished, standing once more to lean over and smack him on the butt.

“Hey!” he protested, jerking away and shooting a glare at her over his shoulder. “That’s sexual harassment, you know.”

Kikyo was unimpressed. “It’s a little late for you to become a stickler about workplace ethics, Inuyasha.”

He grumbled a bit, but shoved the blankets off of himself and rolled to his feet once more, collecting a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the dresser and giving her an irritable look as he shuffled into the bathroom to change and wash up.

When he reemerged, Kikyo stood and took him firmly by the arm, dragging him with her out of the room.

“Hey, where are we going?” he mumbled, patting his back pocket to make sure he had his room key.

“Down to the dining room—I told Miroku and Sango we would meet them there. Do you know where Kagome is?”

“Why should I?” he replied with a shrug.

But just as they were heading off down the hall, the elevator dinged in the distance, and Kagome rounded the corner to face them, stopping short with an expression of mild surprise and irritation. Both feelings were mutual.

Her eyes narrowed coolly at Inuyasha, but her brow seemed to twitch into a frown as her gaze flicked to Kikyo’s hand on his arm. The frown disappeared quickly, however, as she turned to greet their boss with a smile that was only slightly forced. “Hi, Kikyo—I didn’t know you were coming out.”

“Inuyasha told me about the difficulties you’ve been having, so I thought I ought to come out here and see if I can straighten things out.”

Her gaze darted to Inuyasha in alarm for a moment, before understanding dawned. “Oh! You mean the reservations and everything.”

Kikyo raised an eyebrow at that, but declined to comment. “Yes. We’re meeting Sango and Miroku in the dining room to go over what I know so far.”

“Right,” she nodded quickly, “I’ll join you as soon as I’ve had my shower. I’ll only be a minute.”

And with that, she slipped past them into the room, studiously ignoring Inuyasha.

Kikyo took note of this, as well as Inuyasha’s stiffened posture as she passed, and heaved an inward sigh. She hoped, for everyone’s sake, that her eyes were playing tricks on her.

The others were just digging into their food when Kagome arrived, hair still slightly damp. Inuyasha didn’t spare her a glance as she took a seat across from him, between Sango and Kikyo, and she likewise avoided his gaze.

“Good,” Kikyo said, giving their newest companion an approving nod and setting her coffee cup back on its saucer. “Now, as I was saying, about the travel complications: The fact is that all of the travel arrangements for the tournament are made through the board—partly for logistical reasons, but also because they’re able to get us certain group discounts if we all register our people through the organization. Of course, that means that theoretically any one of the board members could have accessed the files containing your flight and hotel reservation information with no trouble at all.”

“So any one of them could have done it?” Sango asked, eyebrows raised.

“They have access, yes,” Kikyo confirmed. “The real question is why they would bother.”

Inuyasha scoffed at that. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s a fucking competition, and we win every time. If what you’re saying is true, I’m surprised it doesn’t happen every fucking year.”

Kikyo heaved a sigh and took another sip of her coffee, shaking her head. “Inuyasha, it may be a competition for you, but for us—the owners—it’s a publicity stunt.” She ignored his indignant huff at this statement. “Really, the revenues generated by the event itself and its resulting publicity for everyone involved are worth a lot more than any incremental amount of prestige that comes with actually winning. I have trouble believing that any of the owners would risk the loss of those revenues—not to mention the bad press, future disqualification, and possible criminal charges—just for some virtually worthless trophy.”

“Hey!” Inuyasha protested, but Kikyo silenced him with a look.

“Alright,” Miroku leaned forward, brow furrowed, “so who do you think is responsible, if not the owners? Who else could have accessed the files? Or are you saying that the poisoning was the only real attack, and the travel mix-ups were just a coincidence?”

“That’s a possibility, but it seems unlikely,” Kikyo replied. “After all, that would be a pretty big coincidence. No, my best guess at this point is that some employee—one of the contestants, most likely—has managed to gain access to his boss’s files without his knowledge. Either that, or…”

“Or what?” Kagome prompted, feeling tenser by the moment.

“Or…the motive could be a personal one,” she finished.

They all took a moment to digest this.

“Well,” Kagome said finally, “I don’t know how that could be. I mean, I’ve never met any of the owners, at least not before this week, and I can’t imagine any reason why any of them should have any sort of personal grudge against me.”

“No, I can’t imagine they would,” Kikyo said with a wry smile, “but I wasn’t talking about you.”

Sango frowned. “Who then?”

Kikyo sighed, smile tightening bitterly. “Me.”

Four pairs of eyebrows shot up.

“How do you figure that?” Inuyasha asked.

She finished off the last of her coffee and settled back in her chair, one manicured hand resting casually on the wooden armrest. “When I first graduated from business school, I took a job as an assistant to a certain entrepreneur who had just opened a successful upscale teppanyaki restaurant. He was a bit of a ruthless slime, but that was what made him such a good businessman. He taught me everything he knew,” she added with a smirk. “Anyway, I suspected he had a thing for me when he hired me, but I made it clear from the beginning that nothing would ever happen between us, and he seemed to accept that, more or less. He didn’t take it very well when I left to start my own restaurant, however, and although our dealings since have been cordial, I don’t think he’s ever stopped holding a grudge. I never thought he’d actually do anything about it—but now I’m beginning to think I’ve underestimated him.”

“Who was it?” Sango asked.

“Who else?” Kikyo said dryly. “Naraku Onigumo.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Inuyasha burst out. “I knew he and that fucking wolf were up to no good!”

Kagome cast him a withering look and made a disparaging noise in the back of her throat, shifting in her seat. He shot her a glare in return, but maintained the stony silence.

Miroku and Sango exchanged a wary glance before turning their attention back to Kikyo, who was pretending not to notice the silent symphony of conversation taking place around her.

“So…what now?” Miroku asked.

“Well,” Kikyo leaned forward again, pouring herself another small cup of coffee from the carafe in the center of the table, “I’m hoping that my presence here will discourage any further plots, but I’m also planning to do a little investigating. There’s a board meeting this afternoon, and I intend to drop by and send out a few feelers. If it is one of the board members who is responsible, maybe he’ll be scared off by the knowledge that we’re investigating—and if it isn’t, maybe one of them will be able to give us a lead. In any case, you should all keep your eyes peeled—and for god’s sake, be careful. The longer this goes on, the more desperate the culprit may become.”

Kagome swallowed at that.

The conversation moved on to other things, but Kagome didn’t find herself participating much. She ate a bit, but mostly she ended up picking at her food, staring into space. With everything…else…she hadn’t had much chance to think about the “saboteur” for the last day or so—but now it was starting to unnerve her again. It still didn’t seem quite real. Would someone actually try to hurt her just because of some competition, or some grudge that she wasn’t even a part of?

She glanced up to find Inuyasha staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face—which turned quickly into annoyance before he flicked his gaze sharply away.

She narrowed her eyes at him, giving a small, bitter sigh, and gave up on her food, excusing herself to prepare for her time slot in the second round of the tournament. As she left the dining room, running her fingers through her damp hair to loosen the sticky locks and help them dry faster, her mind drifted back to the subject she had been trying earlier to avoid, with little success. By now it was making her less flustered and more simply annoyed. It was just another complication she really didn’t need right now—not this week, not this month, and not ever.

It had bothered her to see Kikyo’s hand on his arm as she dragged him out of the hotel room that morning—and more than anything, it bothered her that it bothered her. After all, she knew there was nothing between those two. Not that it mattered, of course, but still. Sure, they’d had a fling awhile back, but it was obvious to anyone who knew them that they were completely incompatible, and it didn’t seem likely that they would be tempted to go down that road again. And yet, couldn’t the same be said of Inuyasha and Kagome? But look what had happened—or almost happened—between them?

But that was completely different, she argued with herself—after all, they hadn’t confronted the issue before. They were just reacting to the friction of being in such close quarters for an extended period under high-pressure circumstances. That didn’t have to mean that they were going to actually do anything about it—and even if they did, it wouldn’t necessarily turn out the way things had for Inuyasha and Kikyo. In any case, that was irrelevant, because they weren’t going to go down that road, and even if they did, there was no reason why it needed to mean anything more than it had meant for Inuyasha and Kikyo—it could just be a fling. But it wasn’t going to happen, anyway—why bother, if it was only a fling? She wasn’t that attracted to him. It probably wasn’t even really him that she was attracted to—just the idea of it all, of this fiery, steamy romance that couldn’t possibly turn out to be as intriguing in real life as it was in the movies because she wasn’t built like that, and he was an asshole, and anyway the whole thing would just be one big mess…

It took the elevator doors—which had been hanging open at her floor for several seconds now—starting to slide closed to break into Kagome’s increasingly fevered musings, and she dove forward to catch them before she ended up on the way back to the lobby. Disgusted with herself, she heaved another sigh and straightened her shirt primly before setting off toward the room.

At first, when she entered, she was indignant to find that Inuyasha had left the place such a mess when he was getting dressed—clothes all over the floor, the blankets torn off the couch and bed and piled in the middle of the mattress—but then she realized that she had been the last one to leave the room. The place certainly hadn’t been in such disarray when she had left it an hour ago, and unless Inuyasha had snuck away at some point during breakfast without her noticing, he hadn’t been back since. Which could mean only one thing: Someone else had been here.

And what was more, they seemed to have been looking for something.

Nerves on edge, she patted her pockets instinctively for her room key, but she hadn’t taken anything else with her downstairs. Her purse lay open on the nightstand, and she crossed to it, digging through it for her wallet, cell phone, credit cards and other valuables—but all seemed present and accounted for. She wasn’t sure where Inuyasha kept his valuables, but she imagined he had his wallet with him—he’d have to check for the rest when he returned. She turned to the bathroom where she kept her toiletries, including the jewelry she’d brought along—but paused suddenly beside the half-open door, heart-racing. What if the intruder was still here? What if he’d heard her coming and tried to hide, ready to attack if she got too close?

Swallowing, moving as quietly as she could, she slipped off her shoes so they wouldn’t make any noise on the tiled floor and picked up the nearest potential weapon she could find—a wooden hanger lying on the dresser. Then, pressing her lips together and willing the door hinge not to squeak, she pushed it open a few more centimeters and peaked her head around the doorjamb. She caught sight of a shock of dark hair and a piercing brown eye staring directly at her and jumped, ducking back—then bit her tongue in self-reproach as it registered that she had only seen her own reflection in the mirror opposite. Shaking off the shock and steeling her courage once more to press on, she peaked around the edge of the door again and did a quick sweep of the room—no one so far. Still, the dark blue shower curtain—had she left it closed, or open?—blocked her view of the shower…

As she slipped silently around the door and into the room, eyes darting about for any signs of movement, her heart pounded in her throat. She raised the hanger in the most threatening manner possible, gripping it tightly, and moistened her lips, reaching out toward the edge of the shower curtain. Then, all at once, she yanked it back, muscles jerking to defend herself.

Nothing.

Melting in relief, she dropped to a seat on the edge of the tub and tried to catch her breath. As her pulse finally began to return to normal, she shook her head and pushed herself back to her feet, setting her “weapon” down on the counter and digging through her toiletries bag to check on her jewelry. Nothing seemed to be missing.

Puzzled, she leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. What on earth could they have been after? None of the obvious things seemed to be missing, and the intruder had apparently felt it necessary to dig through all their clothes and belongings in search of whatever it was. But what on earth could they possibly have that anyone would go through all that trouble to get?

Just then, a soft clicking sound met her ears from the other room, and all the little hairs stood up on the back of her neck, her senses once more on the alert. She listened hard, barely even breathing, and heard another click, and a low, almost inaudible creak—the hall door handle turning ever so slowly, and then the door itself carefully, quietly being cracked open…

Shit. Whoever it was, it seemed they’d come back to finish the job…

Kagome picked the hanger up off the counter silently, wincing when the metal hook brushed against the marble surface, and crept back over toward the door to the bedroom. She could hear a rustle of fabric—sounded as if the intruder was rifling through the clothes strewn over the floor, perhaps shaking them to see if he’d missed anything in his earlier search. She heard him toss a pile onto the bed, then pick up a couple of things a little closer to the bathroom and shake these out as well, followed by a quiet grunt of apparent disappointment. Then she heard footsteps padding along the carpet, and realized with a jolt that he was heading directly for the bathroom. Adrenaline flooding her veins, she knew it was now or never. At least if she made the first move, she’d have the advantage of surprise—maybe she could stun him long enough to make a break for the door and run for help.

In one movement, she threw back the door with a yell and dove into the bedroom, swinging the hanger down sharply as hard as she could. She felt it smack something solid just as she barreled face-first into a firm, muscled chest, struggling against her attacker’s grip.

“Ow! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She froze at the sound of the familiar voice, only to be grabbed by the shoulders and pushed back to arm’s length, face to face with a highly disgruntled hanyou.

“Inuyasha!” she breathed in relief, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He stiffened in surprise, and her eyes flew open wide as she realized what she was doing, backing off just as quickly. “I’m sorry, I—I thought…well, someone broke into the room, as you can see…” she motioned to the mess surrounding them. “It was like this when I came in, and I thought—I mean, you were sneaking in like some kind of…and I thought…” She shook her head, trying to get her feet underneath her again. “Why were you sneaking in anyway? You scared me to death,” she scolded.

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbled, turning away to pick up a few more clothes and rubbing his skull where she’d whacked him with the hanger.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said irritably, tossing the hanger onto the bed and crossing her arms over her chest. “Why were you sneaking around here like a criminal?”

“Because I didn’t want to see—” he snapped back, whirling around—but then paused and returned to sorting his clothes from hers. “Nevermind.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, but decided to let it go, since frankly she didn’t want to discuss the subject they were skirting any more than he did. Instead, she stepped up to the bed and began picking her own clothes out of the pile. “Ouch!” she protested, when he slapped her hand out of the way as she reached for a white t-shirt. “That one’s mine!”

“It is not—see?” he countered, shoving the “men’s” label in her face.

“Alright, alright,” she muttered, pushing his arm out of the way again.

Once she’d collected her belongings and started folding them into the drawers again, a frown crossed her face as she realized that something did seem to be missing after all. She opened the drawer a little wider and reached into the back corners, but it wasn’t there. Beginning to get worried, she opened each of her other two drawers and rifled through their contents, just in case she’d moved it and forgotten—but still, no dice. When she shoved her way into Inuyasha’s drawers, thinking perhaps she could have put it in one of them by mistake, he grumbled and nudged her back.

“Hey, get out of there. You sure you weren’t the one who made this mess, cause you seem to be doing a pretty good job of repeating it.”

“Inuyasha, it’s gone!” she said, turning to him in a panic.

His brow lowered in mild concern. “What’s gone?”

“My utensil case!” she replied, tearing back into her top drawer and shaking out each item of clothing before throwing it back onto the floor. “The one with all my knives and spatulas. Inuyasha, I have to be down there in fifteen minutes—what am I going to do?”

“Shit…” he murmured, watching her whip herself into a frenzy as she tossed clothes out of the second drawer. “Hey—hey, calm down,” he interrupted finally, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her away from the dresser. “Just relax, okay. We’ll figure it out. Look, you—you can use my set, alright?”

“Really?” she replied, relief lighting her face.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, looking away. “My slot isn’t until late afternoon, so it’s no problem. Just make sure you wash them and sharpen them good when you’re done.”

“Inuyasha…” she began—then took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to restore the natural composure she seemed to have been searching for all morning long. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it—here,” he replied, digging his own utensil set out of the closet and handing it to her, still not looking at her.

“Thanks,” she said again, accepting it meekly. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise.”

“Yeah, whatever—you better finish getting ready, or you’re gonna be late.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She hesitated only a moment longer before grabbing her uniform from the top of the dresser, where she’d thrown it while searching the drawers, and slipping into the bathroom to change. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw him watching her out of the corner of her eye as she closed the door.

She would have thought that using an unfamiliar set of tools would put her at a disadvantage in the competition, but somehow these well-worn wooden handles seemed to mold perfectly against her palms, the knife weighted exactly right and sharpened to a fine edge, the blade of the spatula fashioned with a perfect balance of flexibility and strength.

Much to her relief, the nerves that she had battled in the last round seemed to have vanished as well. Somehow, in light of everything else that was going on outside the doors of the arena, the scrutiny of a few judges and a couple hundred spectators seemed of little consequence. This, she understood. This she knew how to handle.

And it showed.

A/N: The expositional material (the convo with Kikyo, mainly) was a little daunting, but hopefully I was able to get it across in a succinct and non-distracting manner. And before you ask, I realize Inuyasha didn’t actually mention the difficulty with the travel arrangements in the phone conversation we saw earlier in the story—that was my slip up. Have to go back and change that when I get a chance…

Oh, also, I recently uploaded a freshly-edited version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, one of my older personal favorites, so if you’ve never read it, now would be the perfect time (--grin--). Or you could save it for the Christmas season, I suppose…