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Squibble Squabble

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The mellow, honey-like taste of chamomile had barely passed her lips when Sesshoumaru flipped to his side, jostling the bed as he leveled her with a glare.

Kagome just adjusted the strap of her cotton sleep tank and finished her sip. “Well, that’s a face.” Placing the tea on her nightstand, she moved the lap desk holding her notebook near her feet. “Something bugging you?”

His look darkened. “The light.”

“What about it?”

“It is keeping me awake.”

Kagome frowned and fixed him with her own look. “I’m not finished with my outline yet.” To prove her point, she reached again for the lap desk and picked up her pen. “I won’t be much longer. Shove the blanket over your head for a few minutes if it’s that bad.”

“It is too hot for that.”

She snorted. “Wouldn’t be if someone didn’t have a meltdown every time the AC dipped below seventy-four.”


“Bet you’re regretting that now.”


Sesshoumaru.” She grabbed her tea again and swallowed a mouthful before making a face. “I’m not fighting with you right now. And the longer you drag this out, the longer the light stays on, so let me finish!”

He glared a little harder, blowing silver bangs out of his face as he did, and then flipped back over, jerking the sheets up over his head.

Drama llama. Rolling her eyes, Kagome focused again on her notebook. “See? It’s not so bad.”

“It is stuffy,” his muffled voice grumbled.

“Strip naked then. You’ll be cooler.”

She didn’t really expect him to do it. But before she could bury her face back in her notes, the covers started moving and then launched a tangle of flannel pajama pants and boxers across the bedroom.

Choking on her tea, she almost spit it over the bed. “Better?”


Laughing, she patted a bare backside beneath the blanket. “Sorry. I really won’t be much longer.”

A blanket-gagged, inhuman growl was her only response.

“Oh, stop it.”

After that, the grumbling and squabbling stopped, the peace only night brings creeping back in as Kagome scritched and scratched in her notebook. As she worked, she could make out the cicadas outside, the gentle whoosh of the ceiling fan and hum of the air conditioner blending with their nightly song and lulling her toward sleep.

No, not yet. A gentle series of slaps at her cheek jolted her back toward awake, and she sipped more of her tea just as two narrowed, gold eyes emerged from under the blanket.

“Still not done, Sesshoumaru.”

Said gold eyes rolled and disappeared again.

With a sigh, she set the lap desk aside again. “Do you want me to make you some tea? Might make waiting more bearable.”

The covers moved again, and he sighed, sitting up as he ran a hand through his hair. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind. We have the pink one.”

He eyed her like he might take her up on it and then shook his head. “No.”

She shrugged and grabbed her things again. “Suit yourself.” Picking up her pen, the scribbling resumed as she tried to ignore the cantankerous, nude demon beside her. Easier said than done.

Glancing to her right, she took a deep breath. He was sitting against the headboard, his eyes closed as the long silver hair he still refused to cut spilled over his shoulders. It lay in a pillow-mussed disarray he’d never have allowed in the past.

She loved it.

Smirking, Kagome reached over and gave it a tug. “You know, if you tied this around your face, it might actually block the light.”

His eyes cracked open, and he rolled his head to the side, giving her a flat look.

She snickered. “Well, there’s always the blindfold in the drawer next to you.” Her look turned sly, and she leaned closer, lightly tracing the markings on his ribs. “I can grab it if you want.”

A smile, small and drowsy, broke over his lips. “Nice try.”

“Can you blame a girl?”

Sesshoumaru chuckled but said nothing, settling back against the headboard again as he closed his eyes.

Kagome smiled softly. He looked a little older than he did when they first knew each other, but had settled into that obnoxious, handsome place only men could as they aged. Still, the years hadn’t changed him much. He was still tall, still lean, still muscular…

Still beautiful. And still hers.

A pleasant little shiver ran down her spine, and she set her lap desk on the floor and turned out the lamp.

“Forsaking your writing, Miko?” his voice murmured in the dark.

She sighed dramatically. “Yes. I’m not in the right headspace for it.”

Shadows danced where the lamplight once had, but she could still make out the vague outline of his face in the dark. He was awake, all traces of tiredness gone. “It’s supposed to be a sweet story.”

He smirked. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Pulling her tank over her head, she tossed it somewhere in the general direction his clothes had gone. “But I’m not feeling so sweet right now.”

His breath stilled as she crept over to his side of the bed and straddled his lap, breasts pushing up against his chest as she leaned forward and placed her lips against his ear. “Think I’d rather wrestle a demon under the sheets.” Her tongue flicked out to trace the shell of his ear. “Unless he’s too tired?”

Too tired hooked her around the waist and dragged them both under the blankets before she could shriek her surprise, but once they were under there…

“Ugh, you’re right. It is too hot,” she groused.

Sesshoumaru pulled at her waistband. “Strip naked. You’ll be cooler.”

Kagome howled, laughing harder as he buried his face in her neck and lost it with her. But as the last of her sleep clothes finally peeled away and joined the rest, cooler proved a pipedream.

Things just got hotter.