The Opposite Of Attraction – Part Thirteen: The Fall

When Sango woke early the next morning, she felt absolutely miserable. The rising sun filtered through the sheer curtains in bright shafts, illuminating the bed beside her and the untouched blankets. She sat up, staring around the room, an unhappy feeling constricting her chest as she remembered the night before. She had come directly home and curled up on the bed with a cup of hot tea and one of the books she’d brought along, intending to wait for Miroku so that they could talk... But she’d fallen asleep at some point. By the looks of it, though, it wouldn’t have helped if she’d stayed awake all night.

He hadn’t come back.

Was she really so horrible that Miroku didn’t want to be near her anymore?

“Idiot,” Sango told herself, sighing. Why couldn’t life be simple anymore? Why did she have to be stuck with a charming, handsome, perverted man who couldn’t control his wandering eyes and hands to save his life? Why did she have to have these feelings when she’d tried so hard not to have anything of the sort for him since the first time he’d grabbed her rear?

Of course, she knew the source of all of those annoying questions (save perhaps that last one), but... Sango just wished things were different. Easier.

But, with Miroku, things were never easy. At least, that’s how it felt.

Resisting the urge to sigh miserably again, Sango climbed from the bed, tossing the light blanket that covered her to the side. She needed to stop being so ridiculous. This wasn’t how she was supposed to act, not over some strange guy she would probably never see again after a few days’ time. She needed to keep her head on straight. If Miroku decided he wanted to stay out all night, that was hardly her business. It wasn’t as if there was anything between them anyway. It was all just an act. Nothing more. If he went out, drunk himself into a stupor, got laid by some whacko lady and found himself passed out and an inch from death in a ditch somewhere... Well, it wasn’t for her to worry about.

Okay. Maybe she would worry.

But only just a little bit.

She would just miss the company if he did manage to die. That was all.

Really.

Shaking her head at herself, Sango slipped into the bathroom and quickly rinsed her face with cool water. She brushed her teeth, then ran a brush through her hair, tying it back loosely. She’d take a shower later, as the one she’d taken yesterday had been late enough that she didn’t need another yet.

Sango paused, looking at her reflection quizzically. Was it possible that her looks had something to do with the way Miroku acted around her? Long chestnut hair, slanted sepia eyes, skin that was smooth and generally unblemished thanks to the amount of sun she’d been getting lately. No, Miroku couldn’t think that she was ugly, and it was shallow for her think like that. Unless he preferred girls like those bimbos from the beach she’d seen him with.

And, if he didn’t find her attractive, why had he kissed her like that?

Acting indeed!

Sango shook her head at her reflection. “Oh, Sango,” she said, smiling wearily, an edge of disapproval in her tone, “you need to get a hold on yourself. You’ve barely known him a week...”

“Longer than that, actually. Today is day eleven.”

Sango gave a startled cry, spinning around to face the doorway. “Miroku!”

He gave her a tired smile, his violet-gray eyes not quite as lively as they normally were. “That’s me. Mind if I steal the bathroom from you for a few minutes? There’s some fresh coffee downstairs if you want any.”

“Oh... Okay,” she murmured, feeling a little bashful. How much had he gathered from what she’d said? Sango made to slip past him, but Miroku’s hand brushed hers as she passed through the doorframe, making her pause.

“I’ll be right down, Sango.” Something about the way that he said her name, warm and smooth and enticing, made Sango lift her eyes to match his gaze. His soft look was all it took for her to want to lean forward and let him embrace her so that she could forget all about her hesitations and worries and just be with him.

God. She really was losing it.

“I’ll pour you a cup too, then,” she told him, smiling. He nodded and she hurried out. She went through the bedroom and down the stairs, noting the sloppiness of the couch cushions as she continued from the living room to the kitchen. Had he slept on the couch? If so, why? Sango pondered the question as she pulled two mugs from the cabinets and filled each with coffee—after living in the mansion for a week, navigating the kitchen had become as easy as it was at home. She doctored up both cups, a dash of hazelnut cream for her and milk, lots of sugar for him.

What had Miroku done after she left? Sango set the two coffee mugs on the counter next to the wide-paned windows, pulling up a stool once her hands were free. Perhaps she’d been a bit hasty in assuming the worst?

“Don’t you look thoughtful this morning,” Miroku commented as he entered the kitchen, looking more awake now that he had freshened up. Sango gave him an awkward smile, cupping her hands around her mug so that she wouldn’t be tempted to fidget.

“I guess that you could say that...” she said slowly.

He gave her a contemplative look as he took a sip of his drink before his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hey, you remembered.”

“Huh?”

“The coffee,” he clarified.

She flushed, staring into her own cup and unsure of what to say. He didn’t comment further, waiting for her to choose the course of the conversation. Finally, she glanced up at him, her head still bowed towards her coffee. “So, um, did you get home alright last night?”

Miroku grinned at her wryly. “You could say that. Mostly an uphill walk, but it wasn’t horrible.”

Sango blinked. “You walked?”

“Yeah... I accidentally left my wallet on the table in the living room, and thought I’d lost it, so I couldn’t really take a cab. By the time I got back, you were asleep, and I didn’t want to bother you when you looked so tired,” he said. Sango was frowning, and she leaned over the counter to touch his hand lightly.

“I’m sorry, Miroku. I didn’t mean to make you walk all the way back,” she said, suddenly feeling horrible for all of her assumptions. He shifted his hand beneath hers, moving so their fingers were interlocked.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. If anything, it gave me plenty of time to think. No harm done.”

“But...”

Miroku’s expression turned stern, albeit playfully so, and he squeezed her fingers lightly. “Now, now, Sango. None of that. You’re forgiven. But, I do think that we should have that talk, don’t you?” She nodded hesitantly.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted, her free hand fiddling with a lock of hair.

“Well, shall I then?” She nodded. “I was thinking about what you said last night, about how you find it hard to feel comfortable around me. Why is that, Sango? What makes it so hard for you to trust me?” Miroku stared at her, the sunlight that came through the windows catching his eyes and bringing out the violet. He looked completely intent, his focus entirely on Sango. That knowledge, that his attention was solely on her, brought warmth to Sango’s cheeks, and she struggled not to let embarrassment get the better of her as she met his gaze.

“I... I’m not sure, really,” she said, feeling strangely out of her element. Talking wasn’t exactly her favorite way of working through a relationship—not that she and Miroku were in a relationship, or anything. Not really... But that wasn’t the point. The point was she really wasn’t comfortable with this talking thing, which was ironic, considering she was the one who’d suggested it.

Miroku’s voice brought Sango back into focus. “Try to put it into words, Sango. Please?”

Another look into his dazzling eyes, and Sango took a deep breath, nodding. She wiggled her fingers away from his to wrap them around her coffee again. “Okay. I think... I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I don’t know you that well. I mean, how do you trust someone you’ve known for less than two weeks? Trust isn’t something that just evolves overnight. It needs time. I need time.

“And then... There’s you, of course.”

Miroku took a drink from his coffee, lifting an eyebrow. “Oh? What about me?”

“You confuse me,” Sango said frankly, the ironic edge of a smile touching her lips. “One minute, you’re sweet-talking me, the next you’re groping me. And when I look away...” She trailed off for a moment, her voice growing softer. “You start flirting with other girls. Sometimes, a lot of the time, I can’t tell whether you’re being serious or just goofing around. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re after, Miroku.”

He nodded slowly, setting down his mug and running a hand through his already messy hair. “Hmm... Sounds like I’m one confusing guy, aren’t I?”

Sango giggled, relaxing a bit. “Sounds that way,” she agreed.

“Well, I can tell you this. When I sweet-talk or flatter you, I mean it. You’re beautiful and amazing, and I’m never going to not tell you that.” He smiled when she flushed pink. “And the groping... Well, it’s not my fault you have a great ass.”

“Miroku...” Sango warned, her glare somewhat lessened in its effect by the still present blush.

He took the hint. “Well... I suppose I could try and restrain myself... But moving on. Now, flirting. The opposite sex will be avoided like the plague, lest I have to walk six miles up an incline on the side of a highway every time you catch me.” He winked to let her know he was teasing her. “But believe me, Sango. If I’m ever on a date with you somewhere, no other girl is going to take your place. You best them all by a long shot, in beauty, in wit, in strength, in that riveting smile of yours...”

“Flattery again,” she muttered, almost accusingly, tracing the lip of her mug.

He leaned over, pressing his lips to his finger and tapping it to her nose cutely. “It’s my job, like it or not. As for what I’m after... Well, is your heart considered an honorable goal, Sango?” he asked, a charming smile lighting up his face. She gave him a wary look, setting down her coffee. Her hand strayed to her chest as she stared at him.

“My heart?” she repeated quizzically.

Miroku shrugged, rising to his feet and taking the two coffee cups to the sink. She remained sitting, watching him as he turned on the faucet and rinsed them out. When he spoke, he did so carefully, as though he were contemplating every word he chose. “From what I know of you, Sango, you’re hardly the sort of girl that would take any relationship lightly, and I have mentioned before that I would like to spend time with you when we leave this island. If you think I’m just flirting with you and spending time with you because I want to seduce you, I’m not going to get very far, am I?”

“No... I suppose not,” she said softly. Miroku set both of the cups into the dishwasher, sighing as he did so. He closed the machine’s door and turned to look at her, his face serious and, although Sango didn’t notice it, a tiny bit sad.

“Sango, I heard what you said about trust. You’re right. It doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time. I’d like to take that time to get to know you.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully as she regarded him, the hair in her ponytail catching the light for a moment.

“Why?”

“Because, from what I’ve seen so far, I think we have the potential. It doesn’t matter if I go back home and stay there or find a way to spend every moment with you. I doubt I’ll be able to get you out of my head.”

Sango smiled. “Cheesy, Miroku.”

He laughed, coming around the counter and helping her down from her stool. “But only a little.”

“No, Miroku. A lot.” Even so, she moved closer to him, slipping her arms around him comfortably. Miroku returned the embrace, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of her head.

It was strange, how easy it was to just want to hold her, like this, and not do anything else. Very few girls he’d ever encountered were like Sango, and he knew that if their situation had been any different or if they had met under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have a chance in hell with her. He wouldn’t be holding her, much less kissing her. On the contrary, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Thank God for small favors. This show did have some upsides.

He just wanted to end this act...

“I do mean it though,” he told her, angling his lips toward her ear.

He felt the way her lips curved upwards against his chest. She was quiet for a moment before she finally whispered back, “I know.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, Sango listening to his heartbeat and Miroku stroking his hands through her hair softly. It was nice, Sango thought, to be there, comfortable and unworried for once. Maybe it was possible for things with Miroku to be easier. It just took a little extra effort and a bit of communication...

“There’s another thing, Miroku,” she said, sighing a little. She could smell him when she did so. He had a nice scent. She was surprised that she never noticed before. “About why it’s hard for me to trust you.”

“What is it?” he asked, his fingers working through the strands of her hair, brushing away any of the tangles Sango had missed. His hands could be quite soothing, she realized, when they weren’t going too far south as they often did. She dearly hoped he wouldn’t ruin the moment like that again. She kind of liked this. Maybe more than ‘kind of’. She didn’t say anything for a while, but just stood there, wrapped up in Miroku’s arms until she felt him shift slightly. He was waiting for a response. “Sango?”

“I don’t know how to express it, really. It’s usually this confused mess inside my head. But sometimes... It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me. Like you’re hiding something important about yourself.”

His heartbeat sped up a little, Sango noted absently, but when he answered her, his voice was as smooth as ever. “I think that’s a feeling everyone has when they’re getting to know someone they like. They feel that there’s something that they should know about that person, but don’t.” His voice grew somewhat distant, like he was caught up in thought as he murmured into Sango’s ear. “It’s a strong feeling. But it ties into the whole trust thing, if you think about it. As people learn to trust each other more, they open up about things that they normally keep to themselves. It takes time, and patience, and even then it’s hard. I’ve seen hearts broken before when someone opened up about something... big.”

“The reward for honesty was utter rejection...” Sango said thoughtfully, moving so there was a bit more distance between them. She stared up at him, her eyes drifting over his face until they met his eyes. Keeping one arm around him, she lifted the other to touch his cheek questioningly. “Miroku... Is there something like that for you?”

Miroku stared back down at her, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. His eyes seemed darker than usual, the purple hue from earlier replaced with a cloudy gray. A hand wound its way through her hair again. “Yeah,” he said, ever so softly and somewhat reluctantly. “Something like that.”

Sango nodded, shifting closer again and leaning against him once more. “That’s okay. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I can’t promise that, whatever it is, I won’t overreact or anything, but I promise I’ll listen. And no matter how bad it may get, we’ll at least be friends, okay?”

Miroku swallowed, feeling like a total cad. “That sounds wonderful, Sango.”

“Just tell me something?”

“Sure,” he said, glancing down at her, but all he could see past her hair was the smooth curve of her cheek.

“It’s not some sort of illness, is it?” Sango asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Miroku laughed. “No, Sango. I promise you that I am perfectly healthy.” Except for the Asshole Virus... He shook off the thought. He needed to get out of this house.

“Good.”

He smiled. That was as good a wrap to their conversations as any. Miroku moved his mouth to her ear again to whisper, “Hey, I do have an idea though...”

-

Kikyou blew into the break room, a tight frown on her lips.

“Where is he?”

Kagome blinked at her boss from where she had been flipping through a magazine, finishing off the sandwich in her mouth before she replied, “Who?”

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou snapped, obviously not in the mood for any hindrances. “He’s not in the studio, and he’s not answering his phone. I’m paying him to be a twenty-four hour, on-call driver, and he’s nowhere to be found. So, if you know where he is, tell me. Or better yet, you call him. He’ll answer your call.”

Kagome sighed, muttering, “I told him that as soon as he left, he’d be needed.” She turned her attention back to Kikyou, pulling out her cell phone. “He ran off to that motorcycle dealership down the road. Trying to figure out which bike he wants to blow his paycheck on once we make it back home.”

Kikyou flicked her bangs out of her eyes. “It figures.”

The show hostess only smiled slightly as her cell rang, putting it on speakerphone. A few seconds later, Inuyasha picked up.

“What?”

“Inuyasha, you’d better get back here. Kikyou knows you’re AWOL.”

“Goddammit! Well, tell her that she can drive herself for once. I’m busy.”

Kikyou, rolling her eyes discreetly, walked over and took the phone from Kagome. “Inuyasha, if you’re not out front in five minutes, I’ll make your life hell. I’ll personally make sure you get a fifty percent pay cut, I’ll call in a favor to my friend who works in the DMV so you’ll have to take a license reexamination, and you’ll be lucky if I don’t sue you for breaching the contract that you signed. Got it?”

“Be there in three, boss.”

“Thank you,” she replied sweetly, hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. “Much better.”

“Is something going on?” Kagome asked, taking a swig of her iced tea. Mm, lunch.

Kikyou rubbed a temple in exasperation. “Ayame and Kouga got into another fight over you, and she spilled the beans. And now I have to go do some damage control.”

She winced. “Ouch. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks,” Kikyou said, dryly. “Do me a favor, and watch the feeds while I’m out. This might take a while.” The producer gave a little huff of annoyance at what was to come, then turned and slipped out of the room without another word. Kagome watched her go, tilting her chair back onto two legs and taking another sip of tea.

So, one disaster was averted.

But...what about the other one?

She sighed again, righting her chair and popping the last bit of sandwich into her mouth. Time to go enjoy the show. However, just before she reached the feed room, someone called out her name. She paused, looking over to see a somewhat skinny guy with a huge camera on his shoulder jogging down the hallway.

“What’s up, Ginta?” she asked, recognizing the cameraman in charge of filming in Miroku and Sango’s house. “Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”

“Yeah, but our favorite little opposites went and disappeared. One minute, they’re there and then I turn around and, poof! Gone!”

Kagome blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah...” The guy frowned. “Kikyou’s gonna fire me, huh?”

“Only a little,” she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “But you just missed her, so why don’t you go out and try to find them? They can’t have made it too far from the house if they left on foot, you know.”

“Yeah, good point. See ya!”

Kagome waved him off, laughing a little to herself.

Rin was going to get a kick out of this.

-

The sun hung low in the sky, an eye-catching orange-gold that turned the sky a bright salmon and lined the clouds with silver. It made the ocean a deep blue that reflected the gold in a long line from shoreline to horizon and put everything else into warm relief. Miroku and Sango picked their way up the hill slowly, enjoying the sunset and the walk as they made their way back to ‘their’ mansion.

“So, do I have good ideas or what?”

Sango smiled slightly at her companion, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, Miroku, you do.”

He nodded in mock judiciousness. “Yes, I know.” She laughed at him, and Miroku grinned mischievously in her direction, pleased to have amused her. After a moment, she maneuvered closer to him, catching his hand for a few seconds and squeezing it lightly.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been wanting to have a break from all of those cameras for a while now.”

That had been Miroku’s grand idea—to sneak out of the house to go spend some time together where they wouldn’t have to worry that everything they did would someday show up on network TV. They hadn’t truly done much, just strolled away the afternoon in the tourist town they’d visited earlier that week, and then ate dinner at the authentic Hawaiian restaurant she’d previously vetoed. The entertainment there hadn’t been at all dull, and Sango only needed to pinch Miroku twice for being too forward with the hula-dancer waitress. The lecher.

“I thought you might need it,” he said cheerily, reconnecting their hands. He had been like that all day, holding her hand, touching her shoulder, holding her around the waist, whispering in her ear... But strangely, no touches of the lecherous sort, making Sango wonder if his usual antics were just Miroku’s way of acting for the cameras or if he was just exerting some greatly appreciated self control. It was nice, and Sango could feel herself opening up to him as she grew more comfortable. It was as though their talk that morning had changed something, and now she was beginning to relax, laughing more and returning his playful attention with some of her own. “Ah,” Miroku said, catching Sango’s attention again and gesturing ahead, “There are the stairs.”

She looked up ahead, seeing them. According to Miroku, he had found them on an early morning jog on the trail they were on now, and had decided to investigate, only to discover it led to the back of the very mansion they were living in. The path itself wound its way down the island, always in view of the ocean, to a beach within eyeshot of the town they had escaped to for the day. It was almost too perfect to be true.

Hands still joined, they ascended the stairs in companionable silence, reaching the top in almost no time at all. They were met by the wall that surrounded the expansive backyard, made of simple but aesthetic red brick and nearly eight feet high with a wrought iron gate built into it for access to the stairs. Miroku paused and glanced at Sango, unable to keep from giving her another wide grin.

“So, dear Sango, are you prepared to potentially face the wrath of several extraordinarily peeved cameramen who may be tempted to beat us mercilessly with their filming equipment for abandoning them? Or perhaps the dreaded producer herself, come to scold our ears off and threaten us with a hundred thousand lawsuits if we ever dare deprive her of film-time for her reality series again?” he inquired, lifting his eyebrows up and down comically.

Sango rolled her eyes. “I’m trembling in fear, Miroku.”

“As you well should be,” he joked matter-of-factly. He wiggled his hand away from hers, hopping up the last few steps and putting his hand on the gate’s door handle. With a mock bow, he said, “Ladies first,” and made to open it. The gate didn’t budge. He blinked, frowned, and tried again with no result.

“I think it’s locked.”

He sighed and pursed his lips in annoyance. “So it seems.”

Sango tried to hide the amused smile that began to grow on her face. “Didn’t you bring a key? And why didn’t you just leave it unlocked in the first place?”

“I thought I did leave it unlocked,” he informed her, sounding a bit petulant. “I must have gotten distracted before I closed it.” Miroku sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, this is no good. It’d be no fun to have to go back through the front door. Unless...” He smirked, stepping closer to the wall and away from the gate.

“What are you thinking now?” Sango asked, watching him curiously. Miroku grinned at her, kneeling and linking his fingers together.

“I’m going to give you a boost,” he told her, as if it had already been decided on.

She didn’t even bat an eye.

“No you’re not.”

“Sango, come on, it makes sense. You’re lighter than I am, and it would be easier than walking all the way around the property. You’ve seen how huge it is.”

“No, Miroku.”

“Please?”

“No!”

He pouted.

She scowled.

“Why can’t we just go around to the front?” Sango asked, glaring at him.

Miroku gave her a look. “Like I said, that wouldn’t be any fun.”

“Neither is this!”

“Sango...”

She groaned. “Oh, fine, you big whiner. You win.” He beamed at her, offering his hands out to her as she approached him. She leaned forward, resting her hands on his shoulders as she put her foot in his hands. As soon as she was steady, he counted to three, boosting her up so that she could reach the top of the wall easily. Before she could get all of the way onto the other side, he caught her ankle lightly. She glanced down at him. “What?”

“Just wait up there for a minute.”

Sango frowned, a little confused. “Don’t you want me to open the gate for you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Miroku reassured her, grinning as he peered along the wall. “I just have another idea, that’s all.”

“Another one?”

“Hey, have any of them been bad so far?” he asked, and she sighed, adjusting herself on the top of the wall.

“Alright, Miroku. I’m waiting.” He chuffed a laugh at her stubborn attitude, finally finding what he had been looking for—a large gap in the wall’s mortar that would serve as a functional foothold. Within a few moments, he had traversed the wall with only a little difficulty, landing on the other side as Sango watched him, looking skeptical. Miroku dusted off his hands and peered up at her.

“Are you ready?” he asked, seeming strangely pleased with himself. Sango narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

“What for?”

“Close your eyes, Sango.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off smoothly. “Come on. I promise I won’t take advantage of you and ravish you senseless while you’re up there.” Sango muttered something along the lines of ‘stupid idiot’ and finally complied, her eyes drifting closed. She couldn’t see the way Miroku’s grin widened considerably, but she noted the rustling sound as he took a few steps towards her in the grass. What was he up to?

“Okay,” he continued after a moment, his warm voice holding a distinctive note of amusement. “Now, fall.”

Her eyes snapped back open to stare at him incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Miroku blew the hair that fell across his forehead out of his eyes, peering at Sango with faint vexation. “Do really you think I’ll let you get hurt?” he asked, his expression wounded. Sango scowled. He was trying to guilt her into playing along... and it was kind of working.

“You’d better not,” she finally grumbled, closing her eyes again. She remained atop the wall for an uncomfortable minute, listing all of the ways she was going to kill Miroku if he let her land on her face. And then, with a deep breath and some trepidation, she leaned forward and let herself fall.

She fell for only a moment, and then Miroku’s arms were around her waist, catching her and halting her momentum. Sango immediately sought to regain her balance, instinctively throwing her arms around Miroku’s neck, but that caused him to lose his and he sat down hard, bringing her with him. Blinking as her eyes opened, she couldn’t help but laugh a little at the silly grin he wore regardless of the fact that his bum was probably smarting a little.

“See? I told you that I would catch you,” he informed her, still grinning like an idiot. As Sango gave an assessment of their current position, she suspected that that was part of the reason. His stumble had left Sango on top of him, his hands settled notably low and a little too comfortably on her waist as they sat there in the darkening twilight.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, trying to put a little distance between them. As it was, she was pressed close against him from her fall, her hands gripping his shoulders for support from where they’d slipped from his neck and her legs splayed out behind her between his. Miroku wasn’t really cooperating, holding her closer as she tried to pull away and giving her a rakish grin when she finally slumped in defeat. He was becoming far too adept at getting his way.

“What was the point of that anyway?” Sango asked, shifting a little to try and get comfortable, seeing as how Miroku wasn’t letting her get away. He adjusted to accommodate her now that she wasn’t trying to escape, giving her a soft look, though his eyes were dancing with laughter.

“Haven’t you ever done that little exercise before? The one where you close your eyes and fall backwards and a friend or teammate has to catch you?”

Sango raised an eyebrow at him, starting to catch on a little. “Yes...”

“Well,” Miroku continued, “the point of that is to develop trust, right?” He bent closer to her until their noses nearly touched and Sango turned a little red from his nearness. His voice was quiet, soft when he spoke, making his words private and intimate, meant only for her even though there was no one else near to eavesdrop. “Sango, I want you to learn to trust me, even though I do stupid things and make you mad at me. I know it’ll be an eventual thing, but I want to be the one you can count on to watch your back, who will be there to catch you whenever you’re about to hit the ground.”

Sango could feel her cheeks heat up with a blush at his words, at the way he spoke and the way he looked at her, as if he was perfectly content to give her every moment of his attention and focus entirely on her. She made herself smile in spite of her embarrassment, reaching up to touch the side of his face lightly. “Thank you, Miroku.”

He turned his head to brush his lips against her fingers. “Any time. Besides,” he added mischievously, “it was a good excuse to hold you.”

Then, with an unspoken agreement and a shared smile, he released her and they both stood up, making their way past the tennis court and the pool to the house. Unlike the gate, the back sliding glass door opened with ease, and they stepped inside, flipping on the lights as they went.

“It looks like no one’s here,” Sango commented idly as they meandered into the living room, no angry cameramen or television producers jumping out of behind couches or bookshelves to scold them for their disappearance.

“Indeed,” Miroku replied. “Well, maybe they decided to save their wrath for later.” He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I’ll be right up.”

“Confessional?”

Miroku shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. “Might as well give Kikyou some screen time to work with.”

Sango smiled a little and nodded, heading upstairs. He watched her go, a frown forming on his face as she vanished from sight into the bedroom. Suddenly feeling very against filming his thoughts in front of a camera, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

What was he doing, and how in the world had he let Sango get so damn far under his skin? What was it about her that made him want to act like some moonstruck moron whose only goal was to romance and tease her until that cute blush reddened her cheeks, who wanted to hold her just to hold her and to kiss her just to see her smile at him afterwards...?

“You’re losing it,” he told himself, glancing back up the stairs again and wondering what it would be.

He honestly didn’t know anymore.

Deciding against the whole confession thing, since it would just be misconstrued and taken out of context later anyhow, Miroku followed Sango’s path up the stairs and to their bedroom. He opened the door, only to be greeted by a rather offended shriek.

“Miroku! Don’t you know how to knock first!” Sango scolded, clutching a shirt to her chest. Apparently, he’d walked in while she was in the midst of changing, a thought that caused a somewhat lecherous smile to spread it’s way across Miroku face. He shut the door behind him, raising a hand to cover his eyes, leaving fairly wide gaps between his fingers to peek through.

“Don’t mind me at all, Sango. I won’t look.”

She gave him the dirtiest look that she could muster while her face was a furious shade of pink. “Why don’t you turn around, you pervert?” He shrugged and complied, still grinning all the while. As an extra precaution, she turned her back on him, tugging her shirt on quickly. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she saw that he had been peeking over his. Sighing in frustration, she stalked over to him, hands on her hips. “What makes you think you can spy on me and get away with it, mister?”

Miroku laughed, moving closer to her and slipping his arms around her, causing her hands to lose their spots on her hips. He bent his head to her neck, kissing her there. “It’s not spying if you know I’m there.”

She pinched him when he started to nuzzle her neck. “Hey, none of that! I’m mad at you right now!”

Miroku lifted his head, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “All the more reason for me to kiss you. You’ll forget about it.”

“Hardly,” she told him, only for his lips to meet hers again, more intensely this time. For all of her stubbornly angry words, Sango kissed him back with equal ardor until he broke it, laughing.

“Not that mad, I see.”

“Shut up,” Sango grumbled, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. Miroku complied willingly, occupying his mouth with hers again in the stead of talking. His own hands moved, finding Sango’s bottom and squeezing indulgently. She squeaked and tried to break away to slap him, but Miroku was already gone, crashing onto the bed with a smug smirk on his face. He turned to lie on his side, one hand propping his head up as he watched her fume. Miroku had been considerate and gentlemanly all day long. It figured that he changed for the worse the very minute he entered the bedroom.

“Is something the matter, Sango?” he asked. Sango scowled at him, plopping down on her side of the bed moodily.

“You are such a pervert,” Sango said, as if there were no question of the matter—which, in her mind, there wasn’t. Miroku only seemed entertained by the accusation.

“Ah, but sometimes a little bit of debauchery can go a long way,” he laughed, his hand taking her arm and pulling her down to his level for another lip-lock. This one was different than the one before, sending an entirely too pleasant shiver down Sango’s spine as he ran his tongue over her lips, his fingers slipping beneath her shirt to trace circles on her skin that made her stomach clench. There was something there, this time, something more heated, more intense, and when it ended, Sango took a shuddering breath, whispering Miroku’s name shakily.

He merely smiled, bringing her back down for more as Sango threw all caution to the wind.

-

Kagome was just digging her keys out of her purse when there was a shout from the direction of the feed room.

Something was happening.

Dropping everything back onto her desk, she all but ran to the camera feeds. By the time she arrived, everyone who hadn’t already left the station was crowding the room, trying to get a look at whatever was going on. Feeling her stomach twist in worry, she pushed her way in until she could see the source of all of the whistling and catcalls.

Everyone was watching one feed in particular—the one from the hidden camera located in Miroku and Sango’s bedroom. And, from the looks of it, they were a little preoccupied, though both still (thankfully) had their clothes on. Though, judging by the way Miroku’s hands were trying to sneak up Sango’s shirt, that could change at any moment.

Best to take some action before it got that far, Kagome decided.

Pushing her way to the controls, Kagome flipped the switch that controlled that camera, turning it off. There were a few shouts of protest when everyone realized what had happened, but the show hostess quickly took control of the situation with a sweet smile and a calm demeanor. “I’m sorry everyone, but that’s it. Let’s give our happily busy opposites some privacy, okay? Why don’t you all go home and spend some times with your friends or family?”

There were a few more grumbled protests, which Kagome ignored politely. Soon, everyone filtered out, and she let her smile drop, glancing at the now dark screen with something akin to worry.

Then, shaking her head, she pulled out her cellular phone, dropping into one of the available chairs.

It was going to be a long night.

-

Author’s Note: So, there you have it. The long-as-heck chapter 13. Hope you enjoyed and that you’ll have plenty to speculate about while I’m out of town for the next five weeks. ;D Tell me what you thought, yes? I'm really dying for some opinions on this chapter!