A/N: The final shot. Thank you to everyone that faved this or reviewed or sent pms with advice. This was an experiment to try my hand at one shots. It's been fun. It's kept me from going crazy and marrying my brain to the wall with a wine bottle. (My computer almost died in a fiery ball of fail due to a worm that evaded malware bytes) I hope you enjoy!

6 Course Challenge

Composition

By: The Hatter Theory and Managarm

Rated: K+

Dessert

Disclaimer: This is a fanwork, and I'm not making a dime.

Since graduation, Kagome had been job hunting. Student loans suddenly needed to be paid, and deities knew she had more than her fair share, and they didn't care that she'd graduated right before Christmas. But getting her degree had been the best Christmas present she'd ever gotten, even if Taisho had been the one to give it to her. Her mother and grandfather had been so proud of her, and her brother had been too, beneath the constant teasing.

The market was cold, and as a result few people had ventured out into the weather. A few lone stragglers were bent over fresh produce or meats, some eying them, checking for anything amiss, others taking the time to inhale the scents of imported fruits.

"What are you cooking tonight?" A baritone voice asked from behind her. Kagome jumped, holding her hand to her chest as she turned, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Taisho-sensei," She began.

"Sesshoumaru," He corrected. "Didn't you graduate?" He asked, smirking down at her. Graduate? He had to know she graduated, she was the first in her class! He watched her make her speech and presented her with the diploma!

"Sesshoumaru then," Kagome sighed, her pulse finally slowing. "And I don't know yet."

"Are you still sick of the menu you created?" He looked truly, honestly curious, although she had no idea why.

"No, I was never really sick of it to begin with."

"I'll make you a deal, you use a few of your recipes, and I don't doubt a majority of them were yours, and I'll use a couple of mine, and we'll trade dinner."

Kagome brain stuttered to a halt, trying to figure out if he was being serious. Would it be inappropriate now that she had graduated? Would it be inappropriate since he had been her teacher? But neither of them were at the school anymore. Was he offering dinner to her as a fellow chef, or as a former student? A potential friend even? Did that make a difference?

"I never got a chance to try anything besides the hor d' oeuvres and the fruit and cheese course. I was rather curious about a few of the dishes created."

"Okay, what did you do with Taisho, because you're nothing like the chef." She was pleased to note that he had the grace to forgo the pretense of being surprised, or even mildly offended. Instead, she almost dropped her groceries when she heard him chuckle.

"You are no longer a student, especially not my student. Now you are a fellow chef, and one I respect."

Several minutes passed in silence before Kagome extended her free hand. He took it and she smiled.

"Deal. Anything in particular you wanted to try?"

"I would like to see what you did with the bisque, and the duck seemed to be a favorite."

"I think I can do that. Anything else?"

"Leave those up to me."

"I'll need to visit a few more stores for everything," Kagome started.

"Meet me back here in an hour, I have to find a few things as well. And then I'll take you to my kitchen," He commanded gently before he began walking away.

Men had offered to take her to the movies, to bed, to heaven, and even to the altar. But none of those offers had sounded as remotely enticing as going to his kitchen.

"You know what I'm making, why won't you tell me?" Kagome whined as she stirred the bisque. Upon arriving at his home, she had been slightly intimidated. Everything looked so clean and polished. Lots of glass and steel furniture, everything with it's own highly modern look. She still lived in her small apartment filled with thrift store salvages and band posters.

But every misgiving had faded when he had directed her to the kitchen. Professional, but with a well loved quality she could practically feel. She could tell he spent most of his time in it. A huge fridge filled to the brim with fresh ingredients, two stove and oven combos, and a steel island of such size she wanted to weep. Her fingers traced the giant breadboard in awe.

It was her dream kitchen.

"It would spoil the surprise. Now take care of that bisque, or it'll burn."

"You're not my teacher anymore, Sesshoumaru, so stop bossing me around," She demanded boldly, turning her head to stick her tongue out at him.

"You're right, I'm not, and you'd do well to remember that. But you are currently in a senior chef's kitchen, and in case you didn't pick up on it during your internship, that is a whole new set of protocols," He chuckled, checking in the first oven, peeking inside. He made a satisfied noise and pulled the pan from the oven and set it on the island. Kagome tried to turn around and a strange sound akin to a growl rumbled from his direction, stopping her in midturn.

She stirred the bisque and tasted it, deciding that it had reached the ideal temperature and consistency. Spooning it into two bowls, she added the fried cheese and carefully placed the garnish. She was about to turn when a warm hand clamped over her eyes and a delicious scent wafted under her nose.

"Try it, and just enjoy," He commanded. She obeyed, savoring the textures and tastes of the different ingredients. His hand disappeared, but her eyes were closed as she simply enjoyed the treat instead of picking it apart as she chewed.

"It's amazing," She said, finally opening her eyes.

"Thank you. Now, the bisque," He commanded, rougher than it had been before.

They both sat on kitchen stools, enjoying the silence as they both appreciated the recipe. Occasionally he would make an appreciative humming noise, sometimes she would sigh, infatuated with her own recipe.

"You know, I couldn't tell you then, but I'm very pleased you decided to change my recipe," He finally said as he finished the bowl off, taking hers from her and putting them in the sink.

"Why? You seemed sort of angry."

"I wasn't. Instead of taking my recipe and claiming it, you made it yours. And from what I just tasted, you made it completely your own. Here, this is one of my intermezzos," He told her, offering her a small bowl he had set to the side. Kagome saw that he had let the sorbet to soften a bit, and tasted it, curious what it could be.

"Ginger and peach?" She asked, an inquisitive brow raised.

"Indeed. Is that a problem?"

"No, just not something I would have expected from you."

She finished the sorbet and was cut off from complimenting it by the dinging of the second oven. The duck was done, and she rushed to set the plates up. Once satisfied, she looked at them with a smile. And then anxiety hit.

Suddenly she felt like a student at her first exam again. Setting the plate down in front of him, she felt like a rank amateur. How could she think her food would be on par with anything he would enjoy? Too nervous to eat, she picked at her food, staring down at the plate.

"This is superb," He said. "Did something put you off of your appetite? Not my sorbet, I hope," He asked, his tone forcing her to look up.

"I just feel silly," She admitted.

"Don't, this is delicious, and one of the best dishes I've had this year."

"You've been teaching students all year," She grumbled.

"If you insist on sulking, you'll have to leave. I refuse to let you sour my disposition. I have not confined myself to the attempts of students alone, don't try to fool yourself and don't insult my taste," He rumbled, eyes narrowed..

"Oh," She mumbled, suddenly shy. Even if it was in a roundabout way, and he was chastising her as he did it, he had complimented her cooking. Able to eat again, content in the silence, they both polished off their plates, sipping the wine she had picked in lieu of the wine ordered specifically for the meal.

By the time he put the fruit and cheese in front of her, gouda and strawberries, her favorite, they were talking again, more comfortable around one another than they had been before.

"So you're leaving the school after the spring term?" She asked, biting neatly into a strawberry.

"I am. Totosai said there has been an influx of both students and investors. It should be enough. And my saute chef is more than ready for me to come back. What about you, have you found a job yet?"

"I've been trying, I don't know why it's so difficult," She muttered. "I graduated top of my class and I've got enough recipes to make anyone more than willing to hire me. The only place that's even acknowledged my skills is where I did my internship, and they can't afford to take on anyone else."

"There's an opening for a swing chef at my restaurant," He offered. "You'd have to prove yourself to my saute chef, he's the one who acts as my executive while I'm away. But you can have a shot at it if you'd like."

"Why are you being nice to me?" She demanded. "When I was still in school I could have sworn you were trying to get me to have a nervous breakdown."

"First of all, I treated everyone the same, and not even you can object. Being a professional chef is work, and it never stops being work, especially if you want to succeed. Not everyone that comes through the school has the ability to achieve their dream of owning their own restaurant or bakery. Most will be lucky to end up as cruise chefs or some other such travesty. It is my duty to make them rise to the occasion, if they can, and to help them realize how hard it truly is."

"By being a jerk?" She demanded.

"Yes. When you apply for swing chef, Tono is likely to make you cry. He does it to everyone, and he is second only to me. He wants the restaurant to succeed as much as I do. Eventually, if you work out, he might be nice to you, provided it's not during lunch or dinner. And I'm being nice for several reasons. You were the only one who didn't bow to my will. You showed your own initiative and pursued your ideas. You even accepted your mistakes, which is impressive. And I was in the kitchen the night of your final. I saw a capable person in full control of her surroundings. Also very impressive given the circumstances."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She growled, feeling insulted despite the plethora of compliments the normally quiet man was offering.

"You were handling over a dozen nervous students that could have easily destroyed the meal. By keeping everything running smoothly, you proved that you can take it."

"So you're being nice because I'm showing potential as a great chef?" She asked, raising a brow.

"And because you're one of four women in your graduating class."

"I don't want extra help just because I'm female!" She snapped hotly, angry at his confession. "I can cook just as well, if not better, than anyone I graduated with. I'm not some damsel-"

"I know you're not. But every restaurant you talk to will almost certainly be owned by a male, or a male will be the master chef there. And you were lucky to intern with someone who was understanding, but unlucky in that they didn't warn you. Professional kitchens are still considered very much a man's world. Very few are willing to hire women."

The thought sobered Kagome and she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass, buying time to think of something, anything to say. It was a given, that men ruled the world of chefs. But it hadn't really sunk in until he had confronted her.

"So you're offering me a job out of pity?" She mumbled.

"No. If it was pity I'd offer it to your friend, the man who held the auction. Silver tongued he may be, future chef he is not."

"He's not so bad. Sango is better though. He'll probably help her open up her own place, if they stop arguing long enough," She chuckled. "Well, I'll give it a shot. Loans are loans, and they don't care how they're paid."

"A wise observation. You have a bright future ahead of you, if you tough it out. It's not easy," He repeated as he took another sip of wine. Kagome could tell from his words that his own experiences were coming to mind as he said it.

"I'm sorry," She finally mumbled from behind the mouth of her wineglass.

"For what?"

"For thinking you were such a jerk. You're actually pretty nice." He answered by tipping his glass and finishing it, and she followed suit. He began refilling them and Kagome laughed.

"Who gets dish duty?" She asked, surveying the multitude of dishes and glasses they'd gone through.

"I'll get them in the morning," He replied in an offhand manner. Amazed, she realized he was truly relaxed as he leaned back and enjoyed the glass of wine. For once she could actually understand why the girls at the school had fallen all over themselves to impress him. He began telling her about his restaurant, and she only half listened as she drank in the sight of him, hiding her glances behind the wine glass. Eventually he moved from the island and disappeared behind her.

"What are you doing?" Kagome demanded, trying to turn as she sipped her wine. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flush from laughing at kitchen anecdotes of his own employees, people he called his friends. She wondered if perhaps they'd become friends in time.

"Turn back to the island, or I'll let this go to waste," He commanded, his tone full of mock anger. She turned obediently, savoring the mix of the strawberries and wine combined with the easy camaraderie she had built with him. She wondered if it was just working beside him in the kitchen, the meal, or even mutual respect that had bridged the gap. Certainly she hadn't imagined this when he had invited her to cook with him.

When he finally stopped moving, she tried turning again, but was stopped when a rolled cloth napkin was tied over her eyes, blocking everything from sight.

"Is this really necessary?" She laughed, smiling despite herself. He was acting entirely unlike the chef she knew and more like the man she had glimpsed in the market.

"Perhaps."

A spoon brushed against her lips, and she opened them, unsure what to expect. The cold shocked her tongue, then the tangy taste of black cherries washed over her tastebuds. A humming noise built up in her throat and vibrated around the spoon as it was pulled from her mouth.

"Wine?" He asked when she had swallowed, the cold sliding down her throat pleasantly.

"Please."

She was expecting the glass to be brought to her lips, but his pressed against hers gently, surprisingly full and firm. Her lips opened, although she wasn't sure if it was from surprise or instinct. The sweet dessert wine tasted different this way, although she knew the myriad of reasons why it would, all of them escaped her.

When he finally pulled back, her hands came up to remove the make shift blindfold.

"I'm sorry," He began, the blindfold laying on the table, forgotten.

"Was that why you offered me a job?" She asked.

"No, but I shouldn't have-"

"No," She cut in, surprised by her own answer. He was her future employer, perhaps the only person in the world that was as inappropriate to kiss as a teacher.

"No?"

"I was nice and let you enjoy my cooking, you're going to be nice and let me enjoy that."

"Are you sure you enjoyed it?"

It was strange to see him feeling visibly awkward.

"That was the perhaps the best dessert I've ever had, but I'm not sure," She teased, apathetic to the fact that she was acting much bolder than she ever would have before. "Either way, I'm not about to let some fancy chef mess it up for me."

He seemed at a loss, and she couldn't help but do an internal victory dance. Concealing her inner glee, she picked up the spoon and offered him a taste of his dessert. Like the night of her big dinner, his eyes locked with hers as he allowed her to tilt the spoon. She saw him swallow and pulled the spoon back.

Taking the glass of wine, she sipped, keeping it in her mouth. She cursed his amazing height and her lack of it, wishing she could just grow a few inches spontaneously. But he moved to kiss her, and she forgot any misgivings about height as she gave him the wine.

When the wine was gone, they continued kissing.

And when they eventually had to break apart, both were smiling and breathing deeply, trying to restore oxygen to their systems.

"Best dessert ever," She sighed, leaning into him.

"We haven't finished yet."

It didn't matter if he was referring to the chilled soup and the forgotten sago mousse or his lips trailing a line of kisses on the line of her jaw.

A/N: Oh gods, I'm sorry, I truly am. I made the mistake of personifying my muses at a young age and I'm suffering for it now. (Coincidentally, did you know that when they're really determined, they can make you choose between cuddle time and sleep? Or that they can possess cans of energy drink and make them roll towards you? Yeah, I didn't either.) I've been working on a new SessKag story and it's around 200,000 words now, and the end is - well, I can see it, somewhere in the distance. I've got some other shorts and whatnot I'll post while I'm working on finishing it and editing it. This was an experiment with shorts, and I can safely say I need more practice at them. A lot more. I'm probably going to come back when I feel more confident that I can edit and write something better out of this as a series of shorts. Thank you all for your patience and kind reviews.

Lehit,

Mana and Hatter

PS-Never...ever...call a chef a cook. It's the one thing I've done to (almost) get a night on the couch. ;p