Slip of the Tongue by Sada

Prologue

Author’s Note: Let’s all just assume that I’m on crack. Now, let’s add a horrible experience I actually LIVED the other day and add in my stupid, evil imagination. Because really, what’s better for a first date topic of discussion then your sexual practices? Especially when dirty public elevators are involved.

Slip of the Tongue

Summary: Upon their first meeting Sesshomaru might’ve thought Kagome was a sarcastic, prude little twit. Now he’s just wondering how much she’ll take for a lap dance. Kagome isn’t amused. [Sesshomaru/Kagome]

Prologue – The Most Pretentious Thing Since You and Me

Kagome Higurashi, despite whatever her friends might tell you, was quite excellent at keeping secrets.

Well, if not anyone else’s, at least her own.

Rotating around in her blue computer chair, a pen held to her chin and a pensive look painted on her face, Kagome reflected on some of the deepest, darkest secrets she’d never bother to tell anyone. Ever. One such secret was her fetish-like relationship with different-scented perfumes of all things. But that hidden truth was rather mild compared to other, more traumatizing secrets that might ruin her entire good-girl image if they leaked to the public.

Snapping out of her own internal evaluation long enough to notice she was losing momentum in her mission to spin the chair off its base she put her foot on the ground and sent herself twirling at a greater speed before once more drawing her leg to its previous place, folded against her body. Mission once more on the path towards completion, she fell back into her reverie. The reason for this sudden personal assessment, as you might be wondering, is the fact that recently she had gained another deep, dark,horrible secret to keep bottled up inside her. Except it isn’t even exactly about her, she was just an unfortunate witness to the disturbing event that spawned her keeping this secret.

A frown drawing her brows down and tightening her lips, Kagome reflected on – as she’d acceptably labeled it – The Publicly Illegal Freaky-Sneaky.

Two days ago, what had started out to be just any normal workday had suddenly and quite unexpectedly changed to grossly overdo itself in un-normalness. Kagome sniffed and put both feet on the ground effectively stopping her nauseating spinning. She stared sightlessly ahead, still caught up in the tragic memory that she really wished she could whitewash from her memory.

After locking the door behind her and securing her keys in her small purse, Kagome had set off for the elevator in her apartment building, setting her iPod on shuffle and turning down the sound so she could still hear her surroundings. Upon reaching the elevator she stood exactly one foot in front of it – like she did every day – and pressed the button for the garage – like she did every day. Waiting patiently – again, everyday – she hummed along to her music, distracted and not really aware that the elevator was taking far longer than it should have. Several more minutes passed and she was just starting to contemplate taking the stairs when the doors binged, announcing the arrival of the boring, everyday, monotonous elevator.

The doors slid back and Kagome looked up from inspecting her heels, then froze. Whoa.

What met Kagome’s poor, unsuspecting eyes were two individuals grinding against one another and rather fruitfully yanking clothes off. One individual was the – married, married, MARRIED – Mrs. Yamamoto from two floors below Kagome. The other Kagome didn’t know very well, but had passed in the lobby a couple of times and promptly written off as an asshole; a detail that made the situation slightly less uncomfortable than being in a room of starving, rabid wolves.

Clothes awry, pressed against the right wall Kagome herself had leaned against many a day, hands all over each other’s exposed flesh, Mrs. Yamamoto and not-her-husband stared back at her, eyes wide. Kagome noted that he had silver hair, golden eyes and markings and quickly stepped away from the elevator.

“Today is a good day to take the stairs.” Kagome said loud enough for the two stunned and motionless sex-fiends to hear, noticing her hands were shaking slightly from nervousness or excitement or something of the like. She looked to the side, hit the ‘Close Doors’ button and walked away, physically restraining herself from clawing her eyeballs out of her head. This was a bad, bad omen for a Monday. I should just call in sick the rest of the week.

This memory had affectively haunted her the rest of the week. Now it was Wednesday and she was wondering if, perhaps, she should tell Mr. Yamamoto of his wife’s indiscretion. Then, she argued that it really wasn’t her business and she shouldn’t get involved. Then a picture of Mr. Yamamoto and his kind, smiling face came to mind and she fell a little further into her ditch of confined perplexity.

Kagome leaned her elbows against the cool glass of her desk and slowly tuned back into the quiet drawl of her television as it filled the empty apartment with noise. She blew at her bangs and tapped a foot, her lips twitching with indecision. Not my business. But, Mr. Yamamoto did bring her cookies that one time she was feeling sad after her little kitty ran away. Still, it isn’t my business. I don’t know the Yamamoto family all that well and, and…maybe his wife was a nymphomaniac and Mr. Yamamoto knows this and expects it. And, again, they were really good cookies and he’d even offered to help her search. She blinked and her chin sunk down her arm to rest next to her elbow on the tempered glass. Alright, so if Mr. Yamamoto gives me one more batch of cookies or does something to exceed his duty as a neighbor then I’ll tell him the horrible, ugly truth… I mean, Mrs. Yamamoto and her little sinning partner probably didn’t even get to finish! The opening of the door probably killed it… Maybe…unless they’re exhibitionists…eww…

Deciding she needed to eat dinner and finish her paperwork for the evening Kagome stood and un-bunched her shorts, walking towards the kitchen while shaking her thoughts to G-rated subjects and stretching her spine. Halfway through deciding between a simple salad and homemade macaroni and cheese her doorbell rang. She sighed with the long-suffering face only a woman of her early twenties could pull and switched destinations. After grabbing the doorknob and beginning to open it, not bothering to look through the peephole, Kagome started her usually threat, assuming it would be her childhood friend who always loved to stop by at the most random of times and tell her some made-up story about his made-up conquests. “Miroku, you and I both know we’ve had our fair share of “conquests” and we both know I have extensive knowledge on how-” The door fully swung open, and Kagome’s eyes were once more in danger of being ripped from her skull. “You are not Miroku.” She calmly informed the stranger…who seemed vaguely familiar.

Said stranger nodded slightly, his eyebrow twitching as if it wanted to rise condescendingly. “No. I am not.”

Kagome blinked, quickly ran her eyes over him, and tried to match up where she’d seen him before. The stranger turned his head to the right an insignificant amount, and Kagome’s brain clicked. That’s the guy that was aiding Mrs. Yamamoto in her eternal damnation by committing adultery! …Why is he here?

“I assume you are wondering why I am here.” He stated, meeting her eyes coolly.

In response she tried not to throw holy water at him, choosing to nod instead.

“I am-”

“The pervert from the elevator who couldn’t keep it in his pants with an older, married woman.” She interrupted without thinking, immediately sensing that that was not a nice way to brand a person you’ve never met and who, judging by the displeased twitch in his face, did not like being cut short. “Sorry…”

He drew in a breath and continued. “I was actually saying my name, which is Sesshomaru Ikeda.”

“It’s nice to meet you fully clothed, Sesshomaru Ikeda. My names Kagome Higurashi.”

He blinked, apparently taken aback at her candid humor. She simply gazed up at him, not looking impressed, scared, interested or a combination of the three. Odd, he mused, regrouping his plan of talking her into never, ever disclosing the events of two days prior. He resisted running a hand over his face tiredly and looked over her head into what he could see of her apartment. “I came to discuss with you-”

“Your complete lack of morals?”

His eyebrow twitched again and his eyes gleamed dangerously for all of two seconds before he squashed the irritation and returned his stare to her. “If you insist on calling it that, then yes.” When she made no more moves and didn’t open her mouth again he gestured towards the door. “May I come in?”

She snorted. “Um, no. I’ve only clearly seen you once before and your pants were around your ankles; as far as I’m concerned you made too much of a first impression for my tastes. So basically I’d be inviting a stranger into my home who is bigger and more menacing than me and there are only two occurrences where I let people that fit your description into my apartment.” When I go on dates with them and when my mother is in town.

Sesshomaru slammed his head against a wall mentally and showed her both his hands, palms up. “I will not harm you, I promise. But I rather not discuss my…”

“Meaningless elevator sex,” Kagome supplied helpfully.

“Private Endeavors out here in the hall.”

Kagome did her best to look around him and, seeing no one, shrugged. “There isn’t anyone out there listening. Go ahead, discuss.”

Sesshomaru’s hand twitched and he shoved it in his pocket. “Place yourself in my position, Higurashi. Would you really want to-”

“Ikeda-san,” She began with a less-than-respectful tone, “If I were in your position I would be sitting at a church or shrine, begging-”

His hands now fisting, Sesshomaru leaned down slightly so he could be certain no one else would hear him. “Please, Higurashi-san.”

Kagome’s eyes narrowed, not feeling any sympathy for this man but feeling more for Mr. Yamamoto. Well, I guess I could at least let him explain… She sighed forlornly, stepping to the side and opening the door completely. “Fine.” If he touches me I’ll just purify him, no biggie.

Sesshomaru relaxed a small amount, stepping into the doorway and trying to be discreet about his inspection of her home while slowly taking off his shoes and putting them to the side. The walls of her living room were a deep red, the carpet a very light – almost white – beige color. There was a desk ahead of him to the left, situated in front of a large panel of windows. The desk itself was made of pure glass with little on it except her laptop and an unopened briefcase. There were no curtains obstructing the view of Tokyo that could be seen from the large, full-length windows, and the lights of the city met his eyes, the dark of the night dropping swiftly around the metropolis. He turned to face his most recent enemy and finally got a good look at her. If only our circumstances had been more ideal in meeting. He shrugged it off and watched her when she turned around to close the door, his eyes falling down to her rather short shorts. Maybe a little damage control will salvage this situation.

Kagome stared at her door all of two seconds, then came to her decision. She turned to the left of the small hallway where, scooted in an out of the way corner, sat a small umbrella stand. In the stand stood two umbrellas and a stick shaped crudely into a sword from Souta’s knight-of-the-coffee-table days. Weighing the pros and cons of each item she grabbed the black umbrella – the other being bright pink and not exactly intimidating – and faced the pervert occupying space in her living room. Funny, she mused, I’ve described situations when Miroku comes over exactly the same. “Okay, talk.” Kagome looked him in the eyes unflinchingly but felt a little foolish as he scrutinized her umbrella hold hand with more than a little detached amusement. I don’t like him, she decided firmly at that moment.

“I am here to ensure that you do not discuss the event you witnessed Monday. It was a mistake on my part and I-”

“Oh, is that all? I’ve already decided on how I’m going to handle that.” Kagome lost her defensive stance but kept her spur of the moment ‘weapon’ gripped loosely in her hand.

Sesshomaru snorted and crossed his arms. “Really? And how does one such as you plan to handle this delicate incident?”

Kagome blinked and Sesshomaru figured she hadn’t caught onto his subtle jab at her. “First of all, you were being anything but delicate Monday, so don’t even try and dress up the situation with your fruity vocabulary.” Sesshomaru snorted at any part of him being referred to as ‘fruity’. “Second, one such as me knows that Mr. Yamamoto is a thoughtful human being that, though should be alerted immediately of his wife’s unfaithfulness, doesn’t deserve that. Especially not from me seeing as I hardly know him. So, anyway, if he does one more thing to show his benevolent nature towards me I will inform him of your disgusting acts with his wife. If not, then I’ll hold my tongue and you’ll be off the hook, I guess.” Kagome sniffed after her speech looked down at her umbrella, feeling foolish for having it suddenly. It was like they both weren’t rational adults or anything. She shoved it back in her stand and walked further into the living room, brushing past Sesshomaru to enter the kitchen.

Sesshomaru followed her, keeping a good amount of distance between them. “This is not acceptable. What if the man does something completely insignificant and you view it as ‘benevolent’. No, I will only acknowledge your promise of complete silence on the matter. Forget everything you saw-” he was interrupted here by Kagome’s loud “Believe me, I’ve tried” but kept going regardless, “-and say nothing to anyone.”

Kagome dug around in her fridge, still not sure what she wanted to eat. “Look, I told you how I’m going to handle the situation. Nothing you say is going to change my choice.” She pulled out an old carton of milk and eyed it warily. This is probably old. She opened it and took a tentative sniff, then jerked her head away like it bit her. Dear Buddha, it’s prehistoric! Ugh.

Sesshomaru felt a headache building behind his eyes, the direct cause being this woman. He grimaced, having to lower himself from his impossible level of self-image for a simple mistake. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” He offered, fearing the worst.

Kagome turned to him, sighing resolutely. “No. You have nothing I could possibly want. I never even talk to Yamamoto-san, so I’m sure you have nothing to fear.” Tossing the milk over her shoulder where she’d know the trashcan to be she once more bent over to dig around in her fridge.

The tall youkai, caught between wanting to drill into her how much she should just keep her mouth out of it and wanting to get out of the woman’s apartment (which, he noted skeptically, was decorated better than his own) finally sniffed and nodded once to himself. “Fine. I will leave now, but know that if I hear word-” He began threateningly.

“We just met. You only get bullying privileges after being upgraded to friend status; something we both know is less likely to happen than that milk I just threw out turning into wine.” A distracted Kagome said, picking up a container of old Chinese take-out and wondering at the intelligence of eating it.

Sesshomaru shut his mouth with a click and immediately headed towards the door, wanting to be out of her presence as soon as possible.

Kagome listened to the door shut quietly behind him and rolled her eyes. An odd man. I couldn’t possibly begin to understand what drew Mrs. Yamamoto to him. At least her husband has a personality.





The next morning Kagome woke up with a groan- tired, sick, and feeling more than a little stupid for eating that chow mien. She glanced blearily over at her clock and concluded that, no, today was not a good day to go to work. I have plenty of sick days, anyway, her responsible half nodded calmly. Work is for losers! The rest of her whooped excitedly.

Around noon, after a shower and affectively emptying her body of the bad meal, Kagome was snuggled up on her couch, staring intently at the television as a commercial bounced across the screen for some new abdominal-exercising machine. The doorbell rang right as her hand was inching towards the phone to order one and she breathed a sigh of relief that Buddha obviously didn’t want her exercising at all, of any sort.

She hesitated lightly, wondering if perhaps she should give her customary greeting directed towards Miroku but decided not to, seeing as the last time it had not been the pervert. She froze with her hand on the doorknob, at the last minute deciding to check the peephole. Mr. Yamamoto’s softly smiling face met her and she winced.Crap. Kagome opened the door with a welcoming smile, reminding herself to not think of IT because she’d never proven herself an accomplished liar. “What a pleasant surprise! Please come in, Yamamoto-san.”

The man nodded, one hand held behind his back as he bowed politely. “It’s good to see you as well, Kagome-san.” He put his shoes together and placed them on a corner of the mat, looking back up at Kagome with a serene smile. “May I call you by your first name, Higurashi-san?”

Kagome nodded, smiling and gesturing to her couch. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea, Yamamoto-san?” For a moment she realized how strikingly different she had treated Sesshomaru yesterday, how rude she had been, but remembered that the man pretty much invited hostility by what glimpses she had seen of his character.

He nodded, sitting carefully down, hand still behind his back, but looked up at her with a beseeching expression. “Call me Daisuke, Kagome-chan.” Kagome smiled again and turned to get he tea, stopping when Daisuke’s voice reached her. “Wait! I have something to give you.” Kagome blinked and turned around, instantly realizing she’d done nothing to warrant such kindness from this man. Daisuke stood and offered her the hand that had previously been hidden. A small kitten was curled up in the large palm, tiny and furry and so cute Kagome couldn’t stifle the girlish ‘Squee!’ that left her.

“Oh! He’s so cute!” She picked it up carefully, petting and listening to the tiny purring sound, trying not to bounce from foot to foot like a child. She froze suddenly, turning wide eyes to Mr. Yamamoto. “I couldn’t possibly-”

Daisuke held up a hand to quiet her. “A friend of mine gave him to me as a gift, he was the runt of the litter and no one seemed to want him. My wife,” Kagome stiffened and his eyes flashed, “is allergic. Assuming yours hasn’t returned, please, take him, or else I’ll have to find another home.”

Kagome nodded slowly, convincing herself she was doing him a favor and not because it was the most adorable pile of fluff she’d ever laid eyes on Yes he was! Yes he was! Her mind chanted in baby-voice.

Daisuke grinned at her fangirlish glee and Kagome studied from under her thick lashes. I don’t know why Mrs. Yamamoto cheated on him for that cold fish, Sesshomaru. He’s rather handsome. Kagome estimated he was in his early thirties and chocked Mrs. Yamamoto’s infidelity up to the age difference, as Ikeda had appeared in his early-twenties, maybe even really late teens. The kitten in her hands squirmed and Kagome looked over at the closet holding the supplies she still had from her last pet, making a mental note to pull them out later. “Allow me to get that tea for you, Daisuke-san.” He graciously accepted the kitten before sitting down and turning his attention to the television, listening to the small sounds Kagome was making in the kitchen.

She returned minutes later, carrying a tray of steaming red tea. Daisuke noticed the suddenly tense air about her and frowned minutely, saving his questions and forming his own opinions.

The truth was, Kagome had come to appreciate the true extent of Daisuke’s kindness and was somewhat relieved and somewhat saddened that the deliverance of her new kitten would be the action enforcing her decision to tell him of IT. She sighed and sat down a respectable distance away from him after handing him a cup tea, stirring her own thoughtfully and trying to word it tactfully in her mind. “Um, Daisuke, I have something to tell you about your wife…well, you’re much better off without her.” No, that won’t work… Okay, how about-

Daisuke trained appraising eyes on her, wondering what brought on the brooding expression decorating her attractive features. “Kagome-chan?” He called quietly, hoping to draw her out of her obviously upsetting thoughts. “Is there something wrong?”

Kagome took a deep breath and trained her gaze at him, trying not to let pity bubble to the surface, wanting only to offer him comfort. “Monday I saw something…” She trailed off, trying to read into his expression, hoping maybe he knew something prior to her breaking it to him. Seeing only the elegant angles of his face softened into a supportive smile, she crumbled a little more. “Mrs. Yamamoto, she was…” Kagome fervently wished she had another witness or a husband to do this for her. “She was in the elevator with another man, doing un-elevator-ly things.” Hoping he had gotten the point, all that met her when she had the guts to look up was a confused frown. Kagome sighed and looked down at the kitten squirming in his lap. “She was being overly friendly with another man.” There. I said it. Daisuke’s eyes widened in comprehension, but he didn’t look as utterly destroyed as Kagome had figured he would. Instead a small, weak smile settled on his lips.

“Is that all, Kagome-chan?”

Kagome blinked. Other than the fact that the DOW just rose four points, yeah, that’s it.

“I’ve known of this type of thing for a while, please don’t feel guilty for being kind and informing me. It was the right thing to do.”

Desperation to ask why he was still together with a woman who obviously didn’t appreciate him clawed at the inside of Kagome’s skull, but she only nodded. “I’m very sorry.”

Daisuke waved it off, placing the kitten on the ground to the right of him and standing. Kagome stood as well, taking his empty teacup before walking him to the door in oppressive silence. How does one end a conversation like this? She wracked her brain for something funny to say but came up empty, deciding that a comment on the weather would not be helpful. Making another quick decision Kagome began tugging on her own shoes next to Daisuke, who over at her, bewildered. “Allow me to walk you to the elevator, Daisuke-san.”

Daisuke’s eyes flashed again, though Kagome didn’t see it, and he nodded, trying not to look devious. “That would be very kind of you, Kagome-chan.”

And a good closing line would be…? Kagome sighed and straightened her shirt as the two walked down the hall, her eyebrows drawn down. “It was lovely seeing you, good luck on the divorce! Call, I’d like to know how it went.” … No, that’s rude and it sounds like I’m hitting on him. Next to her, Daisuke pushed the button for his floor and turned to her, his eyes trailing over her lazily while Kagome remained deep in thought. Oh! I got it! And just as Kagome opened her mouth to deliver her perfect parting words Daisuke dragged her to him and firmly planted his lips on her own.

Kagome blinked. Um, obviously this is just how they say goodbye where he’s from. Unmoving, eyes screwed tightly shut and thinking that, perhaps Daisuke just needed to know if his breath smelt like tea, Kagome ignored thebing signaling the arrival of the elevator in favor of freaking out that one of his hands was planted firmly on her waist while the other had drawn a leg up to his hip. OH-CRAP-OH-CRAP-OH-CRAP, chanted Kagome’s responsible part, bouncing up and down and waving a big flag and throwing bombs and DON’T PUT YOUR HANDS AROUND HIS NECK! Startled to realize that, yes, she had, she almost screamed when a throat cleared from inside the elevator that was still open. Kagome and Daisuke’s heads shot towards the sound and Kagome ran herself through with a machete at the cool gaze that met her. Damn.

It was Ikeda. And in light of who this person was, Kagome’s brain filled the silence in with a sad, mournful song that usually signified the passing of a person onto the next life because clearly. She. Was. Dead.

Sesshomaru, from the inside of the elevator, smirked coldly. I win, his sneer seemed to taunt, shaking its booty in Kagome’s face with unrestrained arrogance.

Daisuke cleared his throat and stepped away from her after lowering her leg to the ground and Kagome’s hands fell limply to her sides. “It was nice seeing you again, Kagome-chan. I’ll be sure to visit more often.” He smiled innocently at her and boarded the elevator, waving once before staring at the ground with a light flush to his cheeks.

Kagome nodded, still wide-eyed and pale, and looked back over at Sesshomaru who was evaluating her with infinite amounts of conceit and sick, twisted glee. “Yes, Higurashi-san, it was pleasant seeing you again as well.” Ikeda commented offhandedly, his eyes sarcastic and cruel.

Instantly Kagome wanted to point to the taller of the two men and scream, “It was HIM! HE was the one getting jiggy with your wife in that very same elevator!” But she only made a whimpering sound in her throat and walked dazedly back to her apartment as the two gleaming metallic doors shut behind her.

This, she thought weakly, was a bad omen.











Sesshomaru: I can’t believe you’d condemn me for the same thing you yourself-

Kagome: Shut up! You read the same thing I did! It wasn’t consensual! It was- It was tongue rape!

Daisuke: Hey now! …You whimpered…

Kagome: IN EMOTIONAL TRAUMATIZATION!