Week Three - Picture Two
Title: Bushel in Hand
Author: nicolemoore1981
Rating: PG13 for suggestive ending
Picture chosen: 2
Word count: 1117
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Summary: A Sunday morning in.
A Bushel in Hand
The thin fabric of her sundress rustled when Kagome leaned over the couch’s arm to claim the small green basket she’d brought back from the market just that morning. Carefully choosing the plumpest, most delectable berry she’d ever seen, Kagome bit into it with great gusto.
She just as promptly gagged back the urge to spit it out. Mashing it around with her tongue, she cringed as her taste buds were assaulted in a most unpleasant fashion, gratefully swallowing once it was pulpy enough to do so without requiring CPR from the male seated next to her.
Not that she’d mind. Said male being the love of her life and eminently more tasty than any fruit could ever hope to be. The embarrassment alone, however …
A being of impeccable taste and refinement, loyal to the bone, and possessed of singular moments of brilliance, he was not above blackmail to get his way in all things. His memory was entirely too long; his wit unlikely to pass up the opportunity to gloat at her expense.
No, she would not willingly hand him the power to do her in so easily. There was no telling when he would strike with the knowledge of her almost-death by strawberry.
Newspaper crinkling, Sesshoumaru peered over the edge and grimaced. This had become a Sunday routine. He would settle in for a morning of catching up on the news before heading to the office to get a jumpstart on the week. Kagome would silently insist on joining him, a bowl of some fruit or another carefully balanced upon her knees.
This morning, however, was different.
He carefully gauged the expression of distaste that puckered her lips once she bit down on the succulent-looking piece of fruit. She’d eaten four strawberries so far and hadn’t enjoyed a single one of them.
At time, the twists and turns the woman’s mind took were frightening in their utter incomprehensibility.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Sesshoumaru allowed his curiosity freedom to speak. “What are you about, you daft woman?”
Almost forsaking the quest to maintain her dignity, Kagome hacked into her hand as politely as possible when the question forced air into her lungs at the worst of times. The scrunching of his nose had her squaring her shoulders in defense.
“What?” she finally asked, once her throat was clear of all obstruction. Her stomach gurgled. She gave up the fight and placed the basket back on the table before turning back to him.
“You ingest food that is displeasing.”
Heat suffused her cheeks while Kagome scrambled for a reply. “How do you know I didn’t like them?”
Just to prove her point, she snatched a berry from the basket and popped it into her mouth. Smiling around the mouthful, she fought the impulse to retch as she chewed.
One silvery brow arched in response.
The juices slid down her throat, and her stomach threatened a rebellion of messy proportions. Skin tinting green, she jumped from the couch and raced into the kitchen just in time to spit the foul red pulp into the sink. After rinsing her mouth out and patting her lips dry with a towel, she returned to the living room.
Sesshoumaru had retreated back behind the newspaper.
She plopped on the couch beside him. When he remained hidden, she sighed. A minute passed in silence before she scooted closer. When their knees touched, blocking her from moving further, she let out another gust of air.
Abandoning the attempt to be discrete when her previous attempt yielded no sign of life from her lover, Kagome tugged the bottom of the paper. He hated it when she did that.
One irate eye peeked out. It spoke volumes.
Kagome smoothed her suddenly sweaty palms on the white fabric covering her thighs. “Can you take off today?”
“No.” The eye disappeared.
“Why not?” she asked, hating the whine that had entered her voice but was unable to quell it.
A groan sounded from somewhere behind the black and white wall of words.
Taking it as a sign that she’d managed to annoy him, Kagome cast about for another way to get through to him. He was such a workaholic. She didn’t mind for the most part, having a life and friends outside of him, but this was supposed to be their day. The anniversary of their first date. Of course, back then it had been a Saturday, the only day he took off.
Sidling up as close as possible with the much-hated newspaper clutched like a shield in front of him, she placed a hand on his knee and felt the muscles there tense. “Please?”
She added a bat of her long lashes even though he couldn’t see it. “Pretty please?”
The paper shivered. Sensing victory, she slipped under the newspaper and he allowed it. Face to face, she leaned forward until their noses touched. “Hi.”
His nose wrinkled as her breath fanned across his face.
Mightily embarrassed, she reared back. Were it not for his fast reflexes, she would have torn the paper. As it was, he lowered it to stare at her as she clamped a hand over her mouth. She mumbled something. Excellent hearing notwithstanding, Sesshoumaru could only make out a garbled apology.
At least now he knew what she found distasteful about the fruit. Cloyingly sweet, the scent that had remained upon her breath had been almost overwhelming. She enjoyed tart fruit, the first harvest and the last.
The mortification staining her cheeks red would almost be enjoyable. Were she anyone else, that was.
“I will taste this fruit.”
Startled, Kagome felt her heart stop. He didn’t eat fruit. He didn’t eat anything that wasn’t sold at the butchers. Some of her embarrassment faded. “Yo-”
He cut her off by opening his mouth just enough that she might slip him a taste. Inwardly he cringed at the thought of actually eating the thing, but he couldn’t think of another way to distract her from her embarrassment.
Unwilling to pass up the opportunity for such an intimate moment and curious as to what his reaction would be to the overly saccharine-sweet strawberries, Kagome obeyed. As fingers lightly brushed against his firm lips, her blush returned in full force.
To her complete enthrallment, she watched as a rosy hue claimed his high cheekbones as well. The light in his eyes, however, told an entirely different story. His was not the heat of mortification or shame, but an earthly promise.
When she leaned in this time, they met half way. The green basket tumbled from her fingers. Occupied crushing the Sunday Times into the soft cushions of the couch, neither cared to notice.
Author: nicolemoore1981
Rating: PG13 for suggestive ending
Picture chosen: 2
Word count: 1117
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Summary: A Sunday morning in.
A Bushel in Hand
The thin fabric of her sundress rustled when Kagome leaned over the couch’s arm to claim the small green basket she’d brought back from the market just that morning. Carefully choosing the plumpest, most delectable berry she’d ever seen, Kagome bit into it with great gusto.
She just as promptly gagged back the urge to spit it out. Mashing it around with her tongue, she cringed as her taste buds were assaulted in a most unpleasant fashion, gratefully swallowing once it was pulpy enough to do so without requiring CPR from the male seated next to her.
Not that she’d mind. Said male being the love of her life and eminently more tasty than any fruit could ever hope to be. The embarrassment alone, however …
A being of impeccable taste and refinement, loyal to the bone, and possessed of singular moments of brilliance, he was not above blackmail to get his way in all things. His memory was entirely too long; his wit unlikely to pass up the opportunity to gloat at her expense.
No, she would not willingly hand him the power to do her in so easily. There was no telling when he would strike with the knowledge of her almost-death by strawberry.
Newspaper crinkling, Sesshoumaru peered over the edge and grimaced. This had become a Sunday routine. He would settle in for a morning of catching up on the news before heading to the office to get a jumpstart on the week. Kagome would silently insist on joining him, a bowl of some fruit or another carefully balanced upon her knees.
This morning, however, was different.
He carefully gauged the expression of distaste that puckered her lips once she bit down on the succulent-looking piece of fruit. She’d eaten four strawberries so far and hadn’t enjoyed a single one of them.
At time, the twists and turns the woman’s mind took were frightening in their utter incomprehensibility.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Sesshoumaru allowed his curiosity freedom to speak. “What are you about, you daft woman?”
Almost forsaking the quest to maintain her dignity, Kagome hacked into her hand as politely as possible when the question forced air into her lungs at the worst of times. The scrunching of his nose had her squaring her shoulders in defense.
“What?” she finally asked, once her throat was clear of all obstruction. Her stomach gurgled. She gave up the fight and placed the basket back on the table before turning back to him.
“You ingest food that is displeasing.”
Heat suffused her cheeks while Kagome scrambled for a reply. “How do you know I didn’t like them?”
Just to prove her point, she snatched a berry from the basket and popped it into her mouth. Smiling around the mouthful, she fought the impulse to retch as she chewed.
One silvery brow arched in response.
The juices slid down her throat, and her stomach threatened a rebellion of messy proportions. Skin tinting green, she jumped from the couch and raced into the kitchen just in time to spit the foul red pulp into the sink. After rinsing her mouth out and patting her lips dry with a towel, she returned to the living room.
Sesshoumaru had retreated back behind the newspaper.
She plopped on the couch beside him. When he remained hidden, she sighed. A minute passed in silence before she scooted closer. When their knees touched, blocking her from moving further, she let out another gust of air.
Abandoning the attempt to be discrete when her previous attempt yielded no sign of life from her lover, Kagome tugged the bottom of the paper. He hated it when she did that.
One irate eye peeked out. It spoke volumes.
Kagome smoothed her suddenly sweaty palms on the white fabric covering her thighs. “Can you take off today?”
“No.” The eye disappeared.
“Why not?” she asked, hating the whine that had entered her voice but was unable to quell it.
A groan sounded from somewhere behind the black and white wall of words.
Taking it as a sign that she’d managed to annoy him, Kagome cast about for another way to get through to him. He was such a workaholic. She didn’t mind for the most part, having a life and friends outside of him, but this was supposed to be their day. The anniversary of their first date. Of course, back then it had been a Saturday, the only day he took off.
Sidling up as close as possible with the much-hated newspaper clutched like a shield in front of him, she placed a hand on his knee and felt the muscles there tense. “Please?”
She added a bat of her long lashes even though he couldn’t see it. “Pretty please?”
The paper shivered. Sensing victory, she slipped under the newspaper and he allowed it. Face to face, she leaned forward until their noses touched. “Hi.”
His nose wrinkled as her breath fanned across his face.
Mightily embarrassed, she reared back. Were it not for his fast reflexes, she would have torn the paper. As it was, he lowered it to stare at her as she clamped a hand over her mouth. She mumbled something. Excellent hearing notwithstanding, Sesshoumaru could only make out a garbled apology.
At least now he knew what she found distasteful about the fruit. Cloyingly sweet, the scent that had remained upon her breath had been almost overwhelming. She enjoyed tart fruit, the first harvest and the last.
The mortification staining her cheeks red would almost be enjoyable. Were she anyone else, that was.
“I will taste this fruit.”
Startled, Kagome felt her heart stop. He didn’t eat fruit. He didn’t eat anything that wasn’t sold at the butchers. Some of her embarrassment faded. “Yo-”
He cut her off by opening his mouth just enough that she might slip him a taste. Inwardly he cringed at the thought of actually eating the thing, but he couldn’t think of another way to distract her from her embarrassment.
Unwilling to pass up the opportunity for such an intimate moment and curious as to what his reaction would be to the overly saccharine-sweet strawberries, Kagome obeyed. As fingers lightly brushed against his firm lips, her blush returned in full force.
To her complete enthrallment, she watched as a rosy hue claimed his high cheekbones as well. The light in his eyes, however, told an entirely different story. His was not the heat of mortification or shame, but an earthly promise.
When she leaned in this time, they met half way. The green basket tumbled from her fingers. Occupied crushing the Sunday Times into the soft cushions of the couch, neither cared to notice.