A/N: Yay, prologue! ^ ^ Inspired by Katalyst's oh-so kick-ass "Silent Laughter" fic and her acceptance of my marriage proposal if I wrote her a Sesshoumaru/Miroku.

. . . Well, okay, also inspired by the fact that Fluffy and the monk are just too pretty to be completely straight, and dammit, I want Miroku to finally GET some!

Also, I promise I'll have character development and heavy stuff later, but that's not what prologues are for.



"You're Cute When You're Homicidal"



Yes, Miroku decided finally with a rather sour air, Sesshoumaru was a bitch. Bitch bitch bitch. As per the usual Sesshoumaru encounter, he'd shown up out of the blue and started throwing his one-armed weight around, demanding all sorts of silly things like the Tetsusaiga and respect- neither of which he was likely to get at this rate.

But that was rather beside the point, and between the group's combined efforts, he really would've thought they'd have sent the damned youkai running much sooner. Unfortunately, they HAD been caught by surprise, which had resulted in both Kirara and Sango somewhat unwillingly entering a state of unconsciousness, along with Shippou quickly after.

A well-placed shot from Kagome's bow had spared the trio's lives, but that certainly hadn't ended the trouble, and somehow during their messy retreat, Miroku had been separated from the girl, Inu-Yasha and the inert companions they carried- a fact he was sure to be yelled at for later.

Assuming that he lived, of course.

But knowing Inu-Yasha, the hanyou would probably spit on his grave anyway, just to spite somebody. Not Miroku himself, of course- the monk had spat on the graves of several people he'd loved dearly in his own time.

Speaking of graves, he was going to have to think of a decent spot to have Kaede put his one of these days. Or maybe it would be better just to burn his remains- just in case that hellhole of his got any funny ideas after he was dead.

At this time, as often happens when people are not paying attention, an unpleasant situation arose with neither Miroku's knowledge nor his consent. Not that anyone would consent to an unpleasant situation anyway. But again, that is somewhat beside the point.

There was the briefest flash of robes and a sudden, almost suffocating weight struck him head-on. The monk inwardly cursed as he recognized the beautiful creature pinning him to the ground.

Sesshoumaru had found him, and he was not looking overly friendly, nor was he half so docile as was typical. His eyes were wide open and glaring, cruel claws practically begging to release the acidic poison inside of them and his delicate lips curled in a fanged snarl. Miroku sincerely hoped that he was not personally acquainted with the owner of the blood staining said lips.

He would've liked to say something brave just then; something defiant and soul stirring that would've at least made sure that the bastard remembered him. However, as is common in situations of great pain and/or fear, the monk found himself suddenly blurting out a completely illogical but utterly true phrase:

"You know, you're cute when you're homicidal."

Sesshoumaru stared at him for a long moment, his claws scant hairs-breadths from the monk's throat. Neither spoke for a long time, until, finally, Sesshoumaru asked, "Come with me?" in a very odd tone.

Oh, what the hell.



* ende prologue *