Drifting – Part Seven: Cure

Corisu: Another installment! Revel in it! -goes back to slacking-

Aamalie: …¬¬ You’re so lucky I’m not going to have a computer very available to me over the next week or so…

Disclaimer: Regardless of our combined effort to steal the copyrights, etc… Nope. Still no success. We promise to keep you posted though.

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The ship was a flurry of movement; everywhere, the crew was making final preparations for departure. Several men untied the ropes that moored The Wanderer to the port, and the wind caught the sails quickly. After a lurching start, the vessel drew away from the land and toward the sea.

Sango wasn’t happy about this at all.

One would think that, with all the ‘experience’ at sea that had been forced upon her, she would have become used to the rocking motion of a ship on the waves and the feeling of instability. No such luck. Glad that she’d kicked Miroku out of the captain’s quarters, the woman was curled up on the bed, trying to calm her queasy stomach. After only a half-hour at sea, she was already wondering how on earth she would survive the journey – what with her pitching stomach and the lecherous pirate captain.

She’d thrown the lock on the door, but she didn’t trust anything around her to work properly; at least glaring distrustfully at the door was a temporary distraction from her discomfort.

A couple of hours passed, and Sango’s misery increased. She’d become cold, but she hadn’t climbed under the covers. It wouldn’t be the proper, ladylike thing to do after all; climbing into the bed of an almost complete stranger. Well, not really a stranger; she knew his name, and a few tidbits about him, at least…Still, he was a pirate, and that was reason enough to want to keep her distance. Kagome knocked on the door to call Sango to dinner at some point, which served no purpose but to make the woman roll over and groan pathetically.

Another hour passed. Sango fell into a light doze—while she wasn’t comfortable with whose bed it was, Kagura hadn’t been lying when she’d said it was the best on the ship. Her nap was soon interrupted by an abrupt clicking noise: the sound of a door being unlocked. Sango’s eyes flickered open, and she turned just enough so that she could see who was at the door.

“Go away, Pirate.”

Miroku made a show of wagging his finger at her. “My, my, Sango. I would have thought a pretty lady like you would have a bit more respect for her host.”

Sango buried her face into her pillow, muttering something along the lines of, “Leave me alone.”

When the mattress sunk down slightly with Miroku’s weight, she knew he had no intention of doing anything like that. In a way, she had been expecting that. What she hadn’t been expecting was how Miroku leaned over her, touching the side of her face lightly. She froze.

“You don’t look so well,” he informed her. She swallowed to get rid of the nervous lump that had materialized in her throat.

“So?”

“Miss Kagome told me that you said you get seasick easily.”

“What of it?” she asked.

“Well… Is it true?”

“Maybe.”

The bed creaked as he stood up. “That’s enough. Come on, let’s take a walk.”

If anything, Sango’s clutch on the pillow tightened.

“First of all,” she muttered, “no. Second of all, why should I?”

“Because you’re too stubborn for your own good”—she made a ‘hmph’ noise—“and also because if you are seasick, locking yourself up won’t help a bit. Fresh air will do you good. It was also prevent any chance of you soiling my nicely cleaned bedding,” Miroku said logically. “Now, up.”

Sango groaned in protest, but complied, never mind how reluctantly. When she set her feet to the ground and stood, she nearly stumbled, but Miroku was there to quickly steady her. And, in doing so, got closer to Sango than she was completely comfortable with.

“Easy there,” he murmured, his warm hands firm on her shoulders. He was near enough that she could just barely feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, and it was startling. Yet, at the same time… It was…nice. Sango promptly shoved that thought from her traitorous mind. That was pure nonsense; nothing that a pirate, especially this pirate, could do could ever be nice!

“I can’t stand you,” she muttered, trying to brush off his touch. He didn’t relent.

“Hn. I tend to get that a lot,” he told her.

“Maybe that’s for a reason,” she replied, looking up at him with an exasperated gaze. He smiled.

“Maybe. Now, if you really want to talk this much, we can go outside and converse there. I promise that you’ll feel much less uneasy. If you don’t, well…You can smack me around some more. Though not exactly pleasant for me, you seem to enjoy doing that.”

Sango managed a dry laugh. “No, I only do that because you deserve it,” she admitted as he linked her arm through hers and took her out of the cabin and onto the quarterdeck. She didn’t object when he led her to the portside area of the railing that lined the entire deck, either.

He had been right. It was refreshing.

Sango reveled in the way the wind hit her face, and she wriggled her arm out of Miroku’s so that she could rest both hands on the guardrail. Leaning into the briny breeze, she took a deep, shaky breath. It was amazing… She could already feel the wobbly sickness beginning to slowly fade away, and she wondered why she hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Better?” Miroku inquired. She shot him a glance and a small smile graced her face.

“Yes, actually. Still a little queasy, but definitely better. I suppose you may know what you were talking about, Pirate.” Instead of replying, he just looked at her, long enough for a blush to tint her cheeks with color. “What is it?”

He seemed to snap out of it. “Nothing. You know, you have a pretty smile. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if you decided to wear it more often.” The pirate gave his own smile when he saw her blush deepen. “So. Now that that there is no one within earshot aside from me, what are your real thoughts about my ship?”

Sango glanced at him again thoughtfully before she answered, noting the way he leaned backwards against the wooden rail. He was completely at ease here on his ship, sailing over Caribbean waters, as he watched her with violet-gray eyes half hidden by wind-mussed hair.

‘No wonder he’s so self-confident,’ Sango thought. ‘With a face like that, he has a certain charm. And he knows it.’ She shook off that train of thought, recalling his earlier question. “It’s not as horrible as I first expected it to be,” she confessed, returning her gaze to the sea and admiring how the clearness of the water allowed her to see beneath its surface.

“Perhaps then you’ll grow to like it,” Miroku mused. “Love it, even.”

For just a moment, Sango’s memory flitted back to the inn and the conversation they had had there, the way he had suggested that he might maybe be able to win the heart of one such as herself, and a nervous chord rang in her mind. For such an innocent sounding statement, there was far too much that could be implied, too much that could be drawn from it.

Her hands left the rail, and Sango turned her back on the ocean.

“A pretty picture, but the waves are hardly a home, Pirate. Leastwise, not for me.”

They shared a moment of awkward silence.

“Do you think your stomach has settled enough to eat yet?” Miroku questioned suddenly, changing the subject with an ease that didn’t belong there, not at that moment.

‘Practiced,’ she thought.

“I would think,” he continued, “that Kagura may have conjured up something edible by this time of day—she and Kagome share, ah, kitchen duty, if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” Sango said, “but something to eat would be nice.”

“To the galley then.”

He didn’t take her arm this time as he led her down from the quarterdeck to the ship’s waist, and then down into the ship by way of a stairway built nearly beneath his own cabin. Whether they were the same steps as the ones they had used earlier to take Kagome to her room, Sango could only guess.

He led her deeper into the ship through dim corridors, so familiar with the ship that he didn’t even need a light to navigate his way. Sango wished that he had bothered to take up a light though; it would have been easier for her to follow him and allowed her to take better note of her surroundings, in case she ever wanted to find her way to the galley without his assistance.

Suddenly, Sango realized she could hear voices: voices that sounded very much as though they were yelling. Apparently, Miroku heard them too, because she heard him sigh before saying, “That would be Kagura and Kouga.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm. They tend to argue ceaselessly. The only time they don’t argue is when they are…otherwise engaged. And even then they make a racket.”

“Oh…”

She hadn’t needed to know that.

“Here we are,” Miroku finally said, pushing open a door she hadn’t noticed into a candlelit room, from which, Sango realized, the yelling was emanating.

“You bastard!” Kagura was shouting for some unknown reason, brandishing a heavy-looking, empty pot in her right hand. She stood beside several pots that were bubbling merrily away, obviously oblivious to the argument that was taking place near them. “You think that you can just treat me however you wish and get away with it?”

Kouga, who was standing well out of Kagura’s reach, scowled. “Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to understand!” He stepped back in alarm as the pot was swung, passing a few inches in front of his face. “Watch it, wench!”

“Sorry about that!” Kagura snapped, her eyes narrowed. “Next time, I will make sure that I don’t – miss!” On that last word, she attacked with the heavy pot again, and Kouga’s evasive maneuver caused him to slam his back into the wall. “Stand still!”

“And let you hit me with that thing? Are you crazy?”

Kagura smiled coyly. Kouga sighed in exasperation. Miroku cleared his throat. “Are we quite through?”

Both fighters turned to the door, not having noticed the two spectators; Kagura looked quite comical with the pot held aloft. Kouga was the first to overcome his surprise, and he quickly stepped forward and plucked the pot from Kagura’s grasp. “Aye. We’re done,” he remarked, glaring out of the corner of his eye at Kagura as he hung the cookware back on the wall by its nail. “I was just showing Kagura here a few of the finer points of pirate life.” He glanced at Kagura. “Sundown?

Kagura crossed her arms. “Fine.”

Making a mock bow to her, the blue-eyed pirate made his way to the door. Before easing past Sango and Miroku, though, he had one final remark to make. “You’re burning something, by the way.” Then, he was gone.

Sango had watching this entire scene with some disbelief, and as Kagura turned to tend to her smoking food, she looked up at Miroku. “And you say that they always do this?” asked under her breath. The pirate captain nodded.

“In my professional opinion, I think they consider it foreplay.”

Not really wanting to know how Miroku qualified to give a ‘professional opinion’ on such matters, Sango decided that it would be much safer to continue her quest for nourishment. Though she’d agreed to go to the galley for food, she really hadn’t felt the full force of her hunger until she smelled the cooking food. It seemed like it had been forever since her last meal. She approached Kagura, who was currently swearing bitterly and pulling a smoking pan out of the oven. “Well, is it edible?” she asked, trying not to sound as if she were mocking the other woman.

Kagura dropped the pan quite artlessly on the countertop before looking up. “Oh. It’s you. Bongo, right?” Sango opened her mouth to correct her, but Kagura held up a hand to stop her. “I know your damned name. I’m just obnoxious.” Not knowing what to say to this, Sango just nodded haltingly. Luckily, she wasn’t expected to speak, because Kagura went on. “And yes, it’s edible. Only the sides are a bit charred.” She gestured down at the pan whose contents Sango had just identified as a crude casserole. “You work with what you have,” Kagura remarked, as if reading Sango’s thoughts in her face. She pulled a knife from where it was hooked onto the wall and began to trim away the burnt portions.

As she cut, the smell of the casserole grew even more pervasive. Miroku, while walking purposefully, managed to look as if he were wandering as he approached the woman. “Was that to be my meal, Kagura?”

Kagura looked up, her face twitching as if she wanted to sneer. “It still is. Kagome’s digging up some more meat for the crew – we’ll be through with it all in a while, but if you want…” She shrugged absently and gestured at the pan, which looked much more pleasant without the burned regions.

“Your generosity is appreciated,” Miroku said winningly; Kagura turned away with a muttered “Yeah, yeah”, taking up a clean knife and beginning to slice potatoes. Assuming that Kagura was now pretending that the kitchen was empty, Miroku dug up a couple of plates and forks for them both, as well as a large spoon and quickly served up two portions, handing Sango hers and gesturing towards the door. As soon as they were out of Kagura’s range of hearing, Sango asked him where they were going now.

“Back to the cabin,” he answered. “Less cluttered than the galley, which will get fairly crowded, seeing as how the afternoon watch will be ending soon. We’ll eat, and then I’ll give you a more extensive tour of the ship. If I have anything to say about it, you’ll know her almost as well as I do by the end of the week.” He paused. “Well, maybe not that well, but you will be on your way.”

“Why would you want that?” Sango inquired, honestly curious. In past travels, when she had been without familial escort, the captains of those ships had been rather insistent that she keep to her cabin, whether because they didn’t want her underfoot or due to superstitious reasons. Not that she hadn’t been happy to comply, of course, given her discomfort at sea and general dislike for ships. This particular man, however, seemed to want the polar opposite of what she had grown to expect as the norm.

They were now climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck, nearly to the cabin. “Because,” Miroku explained, “this is no normal ship, remember? Pirates do not always welcome other pirates, and there is always the chance that we could be attacked. I won’t mince words, Sango. Not all other men out here on the water have the same standards for behavior as I hold myself and my men to, and it can be dangerous for a woman such as yourself.” He held the cabin door open for her, and Sango stepped inside and headed for the room’s table, taking a seat there.

“If that’s so, why did you allow women on your ship?” Sango pressed.

“There is always a risk for everything. But, I have confidence in the men I take on the account, as well as various backup plans.”

“Ready for anything, eh, Pirate?”

He winked.

“Yes. And I do hope you’re not skittish around weaponry.” She raised an eyebrow, as if to say, why? “I intend to teach you how to shoot as well. You’ve got enough spunk and common sense in you that I could trust you to know when to use it.”

Sango laughed. “Not afraid that I would use it against you?”

“That’d be foolish if you did,” Miroku assured her, smiling nevertheless.

“We’ll see about that. But you needn’t teach me; my father did that well enough already, when he first bought the family plantation.”

The pirate captain gave her a pleased, even impressed look. “A smart man, then. He prepared you well.”

Sango blushed, bowing her head towards her food. “Thank you.”

—

It was much later that Sango returned to the cabin, Miroku’s little tour having taken some time. Realizing that she was tired, she decided to change into her nightgown, and did so quickly in hopes that no one would accidentally walk in. Fortunately, no one did.

It was only when Sango turned towards the trunk that had been designated to her to put her daytime clothing away and saw the bed that she recalled her earlier predicament.

And that, of course, was the exact moment that Miroku returned.

“Good evening,” he said without hesitation, seemingly not noticing Sango’s change of dress. He slipped out of the light coat that he’d picked up at some point in the day and draped it over the back of a chair near the door.

While he entered, Sango had been frozen in position, her left hand outstretched to open the trunk. As his gaze switched to her, however, she suddenly sprang into action, flinging the lid open, depositing her things and letting it close again with a ‘thunk’. “Hello, Pirate,” she responded evenly, making her way over to the bed and sitting down primly upon it.

“I had a few more things to attend to before I could join you here,” Miroku continued, as if Sango had asked for an explanation for the delay. Despite their less-than-deplorable dining experience, remembering that they would be sharing a bed did absolutely nothing for her suddenly soured mood.

“I think,” Sango began with authority, “that we should set up a few rules before we turn in for the night.”

Miroku, who had sat in the chair bearing his coat and was unlacing his boots, looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Really? Do tell,” he replied, sounding utterly unconcerned.

Sango had planned all of this out in her head beforehand, but now found it quite difficult to recall exactly which guidelines she’d come up with. She looked down at her hands for a moment, then finally came up with, “I refuse to sleep against the wall.” After all, if Miroku tried anything, at least that way, she would have to option of toppling out of reach.

Miroku had a refusal on the tip of his tongue, and it was with slight annoyance that he replied. “Sango, I am captain of this ship, as you well know. What if I must go check on something in the middle of the night?”

Sango adamantly folded her arms. “Well, you have my permission to awaken me – I will move out of your way. But…” she eyed him suspiciously, “under no circumstances are you to climb over me.”

Miroku looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. Pulling his boot from his foot, he said, “As you wish. Anything else that you wish to have me agree upon?”

“Well, of course, you are to keep your hands off, and stay on your half of the bed. Oh, and if you happen to snore, prepare to awaken with a pillow in your mouth.” Miroku merely grinned and nodded at these requests; obviously, he would be blaming any nighttime movements on restless sleep. Luckily, he didn’t snore.

“Anything else?” he asked, taking off his other boot and setting it on the floor.

Sango thought hard, but couldn’t come up with anything. “I am sure that I will be adding to the list as time goes on,” she said finally. “Now, if you would move it along, as I am tired and need to…” Her voice suddenly failed her as Miroku began to unbutton his shirt. “…rest. What are you doing?”

“Preparing for bed.” Miroku answered with a smile. “Surely you did not expect me to fall asleep fully clothed?”

Sango stood abruptly and turned her back to him, under the pretext of turning the covers back. “Ah. Of course not,” she said, a faint flush on her cheeks. She made a show of keeping her eyes resolutely on her pillow until weight caused the bottom of the bed to sink slightly. Reflexively, she glanced over, and was relieved to see that Miroku had preserved at least some scrap of modesty. He was still wearing his pants, though that wasn’t what her eyes lingered on. It actually took a moment for her to tear her eyes from the pirate’s perfectly chiseled chest and toned arms.

And she was blushing again.

Miroku either didn’t notice or pretended not to. Instead, he made his way over to his side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, Sango sat down upon the bed as well, quickly turning her back to Miroku and pulling the covers up to her chin. There were a few moments of silence, then Sango noticed an arm reaching over her. She seized it quickly and shoved it away. “What are you up to?” Sango exploded, sitting up to glare suspiciously at her bedmate.

“Extinguishing the candle,” Miroku said simply, gesturing at said candle on the table beside the bed. “I must have complete darkness to sleep, not to mention the fact that a particularly large wave could set the entire ship on fire.”

Sango stared at him for a moment, slowly coming to terms with the fact that not only would she be sharing a bed with a particularly lecherous pirate, but she would be doing so in the dark. Quickly, so as not to allow herself time to change her mind, she snatched the candle from the table and blew out the quivering flame. Absolute darkness fell, and Sango retreated back under the covers.

Lying on her side, Sango waited for the movement from the other side of the bed to cease, showing that Miroku had settled in relatively comfortably. “Good night, Sango,” he said softly.

She wanted to say, ‘Face the wall, Pirate’ or something equally biting, but what came out of her mouth instead was, “Good night.”

She was sure that she’d never be able to fall asleep, but the bed was soft and comfortable – the first comfortable bed that she’d been in since her abduction. This, coupled with an inexplicable sense of safety, lulled her off to sleep in mere minutes.

—

Aamalie: The question is, will Miroku actually obey Sango’s guidelines? Wait… That’s not really a question, is it…?

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Naoko Cat Girl— Well, I can assure you that we both consider fanart to be very inspiring. (wink) So we’ll be looking forward to seeing whatever you may come up with!

Lexia Riddle— Whee! I’m glad that you think our writing mixes well. And, gee… More mentions of fanart? As Corisu says, “(squeal) Fanart is coooool.”

Fantastical Queen Ebony Black— Haha. Yes, some Kou/Kagu…But trust us on this and remember that we are Sess/Kagu fans before Kou/Kagu. (wink)

Wave Singer— Uh… Shippou? ¬¬ …Maybe, if we can fit him in. We’re sort of filling in the details of our plot as we go. Heheh.

Lily Thorne— Well, we’re glad to be of service to your need for fluff. (bows)

Starzki— Action? Hmm. What sort of action are you talking about? Action-action or romance-action or both? And Miroku in ruffles? Never, NEVER going to happen.

Amethyst Fluff— The romance will come…in time.

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