A/N: Sort of an extended epilogue to The Call rather than a sequel….

The Call: Ripples in the snow

~ Kitty

…

Part I: The freshet flows in spring

There is no deeper silence than a frozen forest just after a gusty blizzard. A thick, fluffy blanket of snow hiding the sleeping life tucked underneath, the branches overhead, laden with a fresh white dusting, sagging under the new weight. Time stood still around him as though the very trees were holding their breath. The sound of his footsteps didn't travel far and the low, soft crunching of his boots breaking the virgin snow stayed close to him. The air was cold and nibbled at the tip of his nose while his breath billowed out from his lungs in dense, wispy clouds, the moisture condensing instantly into tiny hovering crystals around his face. He didn't get very far from his cabin before a cautious, exploratory step met no resistance and he found himself crotch deep in the fresh powder.

'Right', he thought to himself, making a face as he felt a cold trickle of snow finding its way into his socks, 'Snowshoes.'

Every forward movement was hard won in the snow. Soon, the nippy arctic breeze was a welcome refreshment as his sweat seeped into his hat and collar. The perspiration on his forehead collected in little trembling beads, somehow holding fast to his skin while the dry air pulled them off of him. It was a path he seldom traveled, there was never a need to scale the rocky peak that overlooked his cabin, but it was a worthwhile trek, the sweeping vista made all the more profound for its challenging approach. The snow hindered his legs, latching onto and weighing down his snowshoes. And when he tested his weight on each new step, the snow shifted and gave way and it was several times as many strides required to reach his destination than when the way was not snow covered.

It was late morning and even without the sun, the sky was light, the scant few rays that managed to wrap around the curvature of the earth fought stubbornly to light his way. In the silence of the snow dampened forest, his breathing was loud in his ears as he panted, steam rising and enveloping him as he traveled. As hardy and demanding as his life was above the arctic circle, the muscles in his legs still ached and screamed with each steep upward step he took. Above him, the scraggly, naked peak seemed to taunt him, appearing to remain as distant as ever as the hours passed. But despite the burning and the strain and the huffing and puffing, the hike was meditative, and as he rose up higher and higher in altitude, he sank deeper and deeper into himself.

At long last, the small, twisted high alpine trees fell away and he stood atop the barren, rocky peak. The magical emergence of the wide open view, never failed to give him pause. There was always something cold and forlorn about this vantage point, a collection of rocks laid carefully to provide modest protection from the wind, and across the way, the range of peaks spanning the other side of this little section of river. Inuyasha heaved a long, drawn out sigh, his expression stoic as he moved to the ramshackle windbreak and huddled in the hand made shelter. He gazed across the valley for several long minutes, at the bald, snow dusted ridge line glowing against the dark sky. The gnarled, stumpy trunks of alder and willow framed his vision, like peering through a window. Despite the inhospitable conditions, he tried to savor the environment with a reverence, holding the crisp, clean air in his lungs to absorb all he could of the mountain's energy. His face was smooth and neutral while his mind struggled to settle. The immediate future loomed large overhead that morning. He both shrank from it, and leaned in eagerly for it.

She had always been prompt in her responses to his emails and texts, frequently pestering him at odd hours for no apparent reason, and her constant stream of contact had encouraged the little ember of hope in his chest like a pumping bellow. It had been several long months and still, he could remember the feel of her lips against his, a searing brand on his skin, and even now, unbidden, he felt her presence like a ghost embracing him. But how would she react to seeing him again? What expression would she make? What interaction would they have? His wiser half cautioned him against creating too many hopes and fantasies that may never be realized but the wayward impulsive side went skipped right along happily, dreaming of how he'd hold her, lock her inside his arms and never let go. If she had left him with an ache that summer, it had grown to a piercing, throbbing cry and as the date drew nearer, more and more frequently he felt his heart call out for her company every dark, lonely morning when he woke.

But he was resistant to change, didn't want to disturb his solitary status quo. He was heartsick, though he may not realize it. Weary from the chains of the past and the isolation of his present. There was only this life line to the future, tomorrow, when he would board up and leave this place. If only he could take the steps to step up into the plane.

Eventually, the cold began to seep into his pants from where he sat on the frozen rock. The exercise of the climb had helped ease his restlessness but his anxiety still pressed against his mind. Standing, quickly numbing fingers framed and snapped a picture of the breathtaking vista before he turned to carefully pick his way down. The journey downhill was far easier, gravity aiding him in many ways. The snow still gave way beneath his weight and for the steepest sections, he was partially skiing. The forest was sparse around him as he walked, silently watching him. A couple hardy winter birds sang out a bright, warbling greeting to him. It was peaceful, quiet, and a small but loud part of him wanted to stay, pouting like a spoiled child over the thought of leaving.

But Kagome had been right. Humans need other humans. He felt their absence keenly when they left him in July and he needed to return to them soon before his heart petrified to stone from lack of human company.

He worked late into the night, reinforcing windows and carefully storing his gear. Then he went to his larder, pulling down the preserved meats and berries he'd saved that summer, hauling them a safe distance from his cabin in offering to his neighbors, who's eyes he felt often but hardly ever glimpsed their shapes. His boots crunched loudly into the silence as he trudged back. When the cabin appeared through the trees, a warm, yellow, flickering light from the windows cast over the snow, and a thick billowing of smoke rising from the chimney, he had to pause, staring at the lonely refuge that had given him so much solace for so long. He stared at this home for several minutes, contemplating the years he'd spent there. Each log was cut and muscled into place by his own hands, the construction entirely his own original design, simple but effective at keeping him warm and dry. There was a great pride, he felt, thinking back on the sweat and toil that went into the cabin, and it was certainly his intention to return someday. The swell of self-satisfaction helped lift his spirits from their melancholy and he brought out his phone again to snap a picture. Inside, over a pot of hot tea and a hearty dinner, he switched on his satellite internet and sent the snapshots from his day.

It took a while, the connection spotty and slow. Inuyasha heaved a sigh, looking around the walls surrounding him. He'd taken down the skulls of kills, any leather or bone that might attract an unwanted visitor, and stowed away all the tools usually hanging within easy reach. All this created a barren, lonely interior and he tried to distract himself from the emptiness. Pulling out a worn, leather folder, he idly flipped through its contents, the thick paper rustling soothingly in the silence.

The watercolors were bright and colorful, a combination of surprisingly accurate scenery as well as some whimsical fantasy landscapes. If anything, he had to admit, Kagome could be awfully creative when it came to applying color to paper. Fireweed, moose, caribou. She had an eye for detail and just a glance could transport him back to those short two weeks that summer. The memory warmed a part of him that the heat from his little stove couldn't reach.

Suddenly, the phone pinged, causing him to jump, his tea scalding where it splashed across his hand. He read the message, hearing Kagome's voice in his mind.

"Beautiful!" She messaged, "Wish I could be there with you to enjoy the view!"

And then.

"Really excited to see you in Boston! I've missed our scintillating conversations!"

Inuyasha huffed a snorting laugh despite himself, rolling his eyes as he tried to come up with a suitable comeback. And then the day was over and the cabin was warm and he climbed up into his loft, trying to find a bit of sleep before the ordeal of tomorrow.

…

He emerged from the jet bridge with a scowl firmly etched into his forehead. What had been only a couple connections to transport him from Fairbanks to the east coast had turned into two cancellations, three delays, and two frantically rebooked flights filled with wailing children. He was not in the brightest of moods when he slammed the doors of the cab in front of the bar.

Winter air was winter air, no matter what geographic location, and the sharp, bracing chill helped center him as he faced the noisy, boisterous entryway. A large, burly bouncer blocked his path and after staring blankly at the waiting hand, the wall of a man coughed mockingly.

"Ahem, I need your ID."

Inuyasha blinked, grunted, and briefly thought to make the excuse of not having it to get out of the evening's festivities. He had a reason to be there though, albeit paltry and pathetic. And so, he eventually produced the small plastic card and was waved inside.

If he thought the din was enough to blow his hair off, the claustrophobia of bustling, gyrating bodies enveloping him was enough to make the figurative hard drive in his skull crash in a flurry of sparks. He stood just inside the door for several seconds, blinking stupidly as his senses struggled to parse through the onslaught on his eyes and ears and nose.

"Inuyasha?!" A voice yelled from beside him. Everyone was shouting. With music blaring from speakers set conveniently at ear height, it was a wonder he could make out his name at all. Turning he met eyes with a vaguely familiar face.

"Uh…," Inuyasha faltered as a name refused to surface in his mind, "Hi…"

"Hi yourself!" The man said, "It's been years! How've you been?"

"Uh… good," Inuyasha answered, awkwardly, still searching his memory for a name to match the face. The face pressed closer, the overextended smile almost aggressively painted across his face.

"Did you take that XXX offer? Living it big in the Bay Area?"

"... Uh… no." And now he began to feel the anxiety build. His eyes glanced around the dark, overfilled space. Chaos pressed in around him, jubilant faces tittering and chittering and laughing and jeering. The heavy base of the music thudded against his chest as though trying to override his heartbeat. He really had only one objective in coming here tonight. And at this rate, he was finding it to be a futile exercise.

"Wow, hey!" A new voice spoke up somehow, filtering it above the din, "Is that Inuyasha?"

A new vaguely familiar face approached and suddenly he was completely surrounded by a throng of vaguely familiar, intoxicated, nameless faces.

"Sure is, Kouga!" The first nameless face answered, "Remember how you two used to have at it at hackathon?"

"Do I ever," Kouga replied, "You still crashing your brother's security systems like the good ol' days?"

"I gotta piss."

With that less than graceful excuse, Inuyasha ducked away, deeper into the noisy bar. Bodies pressed in around him and it was hot and stuffy, making him short of breath. Odors of all sorts assaulted his nose, bodily musk, artificial musk, the astringent smells of alcohol and souring beer, and everything in between. He managed to find an empty corner and tried to regain his bearings. The moment his ears caught her laughter, every sense was immediately on high alert and trained on her.

Her giggle was as bright and bubbly as ever, musical and teasing. His eyes scanned the room, struggling to discern where the sound was coming from. His body moved of its own accord, leaving the hidden corner and heading toward the bar. Suddenly, an arm wound around his and it all of his willpower to resist simply striking out at the slender body that pressed so intrusively against him.

"Hey there, good lookin'!" her voice purred, low and serpentine. He tried to extract his arm but she had clutched it tight against her chest, nestled right there in between her breasts. He stared down at his arm like it was a separate entity entirely, like how a lizard could detach its own tail when captured.

"You…," the woman said, "You must be Inuyasha. Kagome said something about your long, luscious hair."

The mention of Kagome's name froze him in his tracks and he blinked, taking a moment to consider the short figure. Whatever dim light was available was all behind him and the shadow he cast over her hid her features. Her hair was short cropped and swished with every motion of her head. Sly, predatory eyes stared up at him and she licked her lips as she got a better look of his face.

"Huh," she said, "Kagome was right, you are delicious!"

Kagome thinks I'm delicious?'

"Y-you know Kagome?"

The woman didn't miss the change in his attention at the mention of Kagome. A sultry smile pulled up the corners of her lips.

"Maybe," she said, pulling back, her arms coming together to emphasize her chest, her chin ducked down in a manner that was meant to be coy. "Maybe not."

"Can you show me to Kagome or not?" he asked, not in any mood to be playing games. The woman pouted.

"Kagome gets all the boys," she complained, "And you're rude. Why should I take you to Kagome? You didn't even ask my name!"

"Nevermind," Inuyasha said gruffly, pushing her hand off his arm and turning away.

"Oh, fine, fine, come on!" she said, "My name is Yura and I love your hair."

Yura grabbed hold of his hand with a surprisingly strong grip. Startled and inundated with more sensory input that he could process, Inuyasha allowed himself to be dragged along across the room. The shove and shuffle of bodies against his grated on his tolerances. Yura was saying something, something about a hair oil or conditioner, he couldn't tell, nor could he convince himself to care. Despite his naturally keen eyesight, the dim lighting and ever morphing mosaic of drunken, stumbling figures made it difficult for him to focus and he felt dizzy trying to keep up. The sudden tinkle of her laughter, clear as a bell and nearby, helped anchor his scattered brain and the next time he glanced up, the only vision that filled his eyes was her laughing face that slowly turned and recognized him.

The immediate, innate reaction of his body was to freeze in place, eyes locked on her as his heart began hammering in his chest. He hadn't quite realized how much he'd missed her until this moment, the sudden recognition of just how intensely he'd yearned for the brightness of her presence these cold, dark months hit him hard, both painful and sweet at the same time. Every detail of her appearance rang warm and endearing in his mind. She glowed in the dim light of the dark venue, the radiance of her skin surpassed only by the sparkle in her eyes. The lines of her face were soft and curving, leading his eyes to the fullness of her lips that pulled apart in a dazzling smile. Had he once likened her face to that of another? It was beyond his capabilities now to remember. And now, the way her entire body reacted to him, immediately setting down her drink, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she called out to him.

"Inuyasha!"

Her voice broke the spell and he was blinking rapidly as he tried to convince his body to move. Kagome interrupted whatever conversation she was having and was quickly making her way towards him. Every coherent thought in his brain seemed to self combust and he stood there dumbly as she approached.

"Ha!" She said as she neared him, "You look like you're about to self-destruct!"

If she had any more to say, her words were stopped short as his arms snaked around her. As though she could buffer him from the rest of the chaos in the world, he pulled her in close and hard, like he could absorb her into his body. He brought his face to her neck, as much of an effort to drown out the noise of the bar, as it was to discreetly breath in her scent. Her arms came around him readily and returned the gesture. He felt a hand come up the back of his head while another pressed his chest against hers. The feel of her responding with equal fervor sent a wave of relief through him he hadn't realized he was harboring. But then titterings from the girls she was chatting with began to penetrate his mind.

"Who's that?"

"I thought she wasn't seeing anyone."

"Oh my god, I want his hair!"

Kagome sighed, allowing herself the enjoyment of such strong arms pulling her in so tight. He was a breath of mountain wildness in the midst of the city and she was briefly transported to the land of rugged spruce and mischievous whitewater. The stark contrast between pure mountain air and stuffy urban bar must be a startling adjustment and she felt the harried desperation coming off of him in waves. Finally pulling away, her eyes sparkled with humor as she stepped back to study his face.

"You look good!" She shouted over the noise and the music. A pair of slender hands come up to press the side of his face. He felt his heart leap into his throat to feel her thumbs running over his cheekbones. "Glad you're thriving up there in the arctic winter!"

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and grunted, but with the surrounding din, her only indication that he'd responded at all was the slight huff of his shoulders. She threw her head back to laugh, drawing his attention to the lines of her neck, before righting herself and pulling him toward the bar.

"Whaddya having?" She asked, "First round's on me."

He was hardly able to get a word out before they were accosted by a gaggle of women, each curious to learn more about the handsome stranger their friend was chatting with. The rest was a blur, someone somewhere had ordered shots for everyone in celebration of the upcoming nuptials and the rest descended into madness. The Yura woman kept grabbing his braid and other vaguely familiar faces tried to make small talk in the deafening chaos. He stayed close to Kagome, feeling uprooted like an alpine tree at the mercy of a spring melt river. He answered inquiries with shrugs and grunts, completely uncomprehending of how the rest seemed to be able to hold intelligent conversation in the midst of so much noise. He downed his first beer quickly, almost unconsciously as the beverage allowed him momentary relief from maintaining conversation with this or that vaguely familiar stranger. The second went almost just as quickly and the third resulted in a decent enough buzz that helped take the edge off his discomfort with the situation. Eventually, he felt Kagome's slender hand reach for his, pulling his overloaded mind to focus on her flushed face as she tugged him over to a corner.

"C'mon," she stood close to him, tiptoeing to whisper into his ear. The involuntary shiver in reaction to her breath against his neck nearly toppled him over. "Let's get out of here," she said, "Have you checked into the hotel yet?"

…

The hotel was a brief walk away but the cold of the New England winter made it seem much, much longer. His head was swimming, ears ringing from the sudden drop to silence upon exiting the bar, and the mellow intoxication of several stiff drinks made the foot bound journey more like a swaying cruise. Kagome shivered, reaching out bashfully for his arm to huddle against. She was wearing his jacket, the familiar worn fabric recognized immediately, and something about that little detail warmed him greatly. Along the cold, nippy route, Kagome kept up a stream of chatter and Inuyasha found it soothing to listen to as they hustled down the street.

"Miroku's such a wreck!" She giggled into his arm, "I'm glad Sango has a handle on things cause I'm sure Miroku's lost the rings at least five or seven times so far."

Grunt.

"Tomorrow's going to be so much crazy," she continued, "They estimated it'll take over two hours to have hair and make up all done for everyone. Two freaking hours! How's that possible?"

Grunt.

"Hey, by the way," Kagome asked, pulling away to glance up at him, "Is that all you have? How'd you manage to pack so light?"

Inuyasha turned to return her glance before shrugging. He only had a small pack, after all, none of the clothing in his cabin could be considered suitable for a wedding that wasn't for a lumberjack.

"I'll buy a suit tomorrow."

Kagome's expression lifted in astounded surprise and he couldn't help the small smirk in reaction to the rise of her eyebrows. He missed how brightly animated and expressive she was, the spark of gleeful mischief strong in her eyes and the way her lips quirked as though constantly amused by life.

"Cutting it close aren't we?" She said, laughter evident in her voice. Everything about her was joyous, the ease with which she smiled, the lively bounce in her steps. He had to remind himself to pay attention to the uneven sidewalk.

The hotel was bustling with incoming guests for the wedding and the lights and mirrors and glittering chandeliers briefly overwhelmed him. A bored, dull-eyed receptionist spotted them in line and, like the flip of a switch, smiled wide, reciting the scripted greeting and asking for his reservation number.

"Ah, your upgrade request has been granted," the receptionist said, the bright, peppy voice poking at Inuyasha's nerves. He tried to blink past his elevated BAC with little success and could only stare dumbly at the man.

"What?"

"You've been upgraded sir," the receptionist repeated, "How many key cards would you like?"

"I ain't paying more," Inuyasha declared, a frown beginning to form on his forehead.

"Uh, well sir," the receptionist said uncertainly, "The payment has already been processed for the room, sir."

"Goddammit!"

Behind the desk, the receptionist was typing a flurry of keystrokes. "Let me see what I can do," he said, plastering his best professional smile across his face while Inuyasha imagined all the different ways he'd like to wipe that annoying fake grin off.

"Oh," he said eventually, "It looks like this was a special request from the groom. He left his note for you."

"Well, that's awfully nice of Miroku," Kagome said while Inuyasha snatched the offered slip of paper, glaring down at it like his eyes could light it aflame.

"Enjoy the suite! Bring some girls back to stay the night! Oh, and if it's Kagome, just make sure she's ready to help Sango in the morning. Can't be missing the maid of honor tomorrow now can we?"

"That fucking dumbass," Inuyasha muttered to himself, quickly stuffing away the paper before Kagome could read it over his shoulder. He gruffly accepted the key cards and they made their way to the room, Kagome tagging along out of curiosity, or so she claimed.

It was huge. With gigantic floor to ceiling windows, a fireplace, and the largest bed he'd ever seen. Two bottles of champagne waited for him in a bucket of ice and next to them, a wrapped box of chocolate. It was comfortable, and the view of the river glittering against the city lights wasn't half bad either. Alright, perhaps he could be just a little grateful to Miroku.

Tossing down his luggage and coat, he stood for a moment in the middle of the room, finding the aura of new modern construction strangely chilling, though the warm color paintings and plastic greenery attempted to mitigate the hard angles and metallic frames. Kagome breezed in with little ceremony, slipping off his jacket and gawking at the wide open space.

"Gosh," she was saying, "Miroku must be really excited to have you at his wedding."

Grunt.

Kagome spotted the champagne and chocolate and laughed.

"He thought of everything didn't he," she said, wandering over to the window to take in the view. Inuyasha watched her quietly from where he stood, his eyes drinking in every detail. She hadn't changed, still slender with no small amount of pep in her movements and gestures. It was hard to believe she'd taken the challenge of the Alaskan backcountry when she looked so delicate and fawnlike. Her eyes still sparkled and when she turned to smile at him, there was a possessive piece of his heart wanted to believe it was a special look she reserved just for him.

"I hope you don't mind me barging in like this," she said to him, "I just don't know how much I'll be able to hang out tomorrow, since I'm in the wedding party."

His heart sank at this. A very large part of the reason he was even here was to see her again.

He grunted.

"Hope you came prepared to dance," Kagome said, "Miroku says you're a surprisingly good dancer."

"It's been a while," he said with a snort, "Don't know if I'll be any good."

Kagome made her way to a couch facing the window, patting the cushion beside her to invite him closer.

"You better brush up then," she said, reclining back, "I fully intend on dragging you out onto the dance floor."

"Well, you can expect to have your feet stepped on."

"Ha!" Kagome let out a surprised laugh. He gingerly moved to the couch and sank down beside her, hyper aware of their proximity, feeling too close yet miles apart.

They sat in silence for a peaceful moment, staring out the window. With the room lights on, their reflections were clearly visible in the glass and Inuyasha slyly studied her transparent image. She sat relaxed, her legs, long and slender, dangled off the couch. Her eyes were fixed on the window, capturing the city lights below and seeming to dance as she eyed him through the window. The dress she wore was simple and black, cut to emphasize the graceful contours of her shoulders, appearing strong despite her small frame. It was a visual delight and his lower half agreed. Gulping he tried to calm the rising heat in his blood, glancing away. Her hand rested between them and he found himself staring at it. Having spent months with only the vague memory of her presence haunting him, he suddenly felt nervous and agitated to have her beside him in the flesh. His own hand fisted against the cushion as he fought his urge to reach out to her.

"It's…," he said, voice cutting through the silence, "It's good to see you again."

Kagome turned to look at him directly, the angles of his face as striking as ever. There was a play of emotions on his face as he debated internally with himself. He shifted, he stilled, and he shifted again. She waited, her own excitement building.

"Same here," she said softly, "I've missed you."

Inuyasha looked up sharply, his eyes searching hers with no small amount of disbelief. Her eyes gazed back at him, bright, open, and waiting. There was a loud, insistent thumping in his ears and a giddiness wrapped around his mind, a hindrance and a drug all at the same time. The distance between them had shrunk from miles to mere inches and yet, it felt like a galaxy was wedged between them.

"Our scintillating conversations, right?"

It wasn't often that his brain could spontaneously arrive at an intentionally humorous quip and he was rather proud of himself. Kagome reacted obligingly, throwing her head back in a full throated laugh. The lines of her neck captured his eyes and drew them down. When her laughter subsided, she straightened and tilted her head toward him, her smile soft and beaming and her eyes searching his. It was the look that first made time stand still on a rocky, grey mountainside so many months ago. One that felt like more than a passive gaze. One that called out to him in a soft, subtle whisper.

He wanted to touch her.

Leaning forward on the cushions, slowly, cautiously, sliding a hand along the soft surface toward hers, Inuyasha studied her face carefully, ready to retreat at any sign of rejection, of even mere disinterest. She watched him approach, feeling the atmosphere around them slowly grow silent and tense. Her breathing was shallow, her chest tight. Little pinprick tingles ran up and down the back of her neck. Her lips fell open and the way his expression changed as his eyes dropped to stare at her open mouth sent a ripple through her, hot and electric. She felt something coiling and tightening inside her abdomen the closer he came and the first brush of his hand against hers made her gasp.

This was torture.

"Oh, just come here," she murmured, half whine, half moan. Inuyasha was startled to feel her tear her hand from his grasp, only to bring both arms around his shoulders. Hardly following the sudden change of pace, it took a full second to realize her lips were against his, she chest flush up against his thumping heart.

And then her heat began to seep into him, a building wave that promised a sweet, exhilarating destruction. His body was moving ahead of his brain and strong, callused hands came up around her, thrilling at the soft skin of her shoulders, learning the dipping curvature of her back. His arms tightened around her, crushing her against him. And her lips. Hot and wet, pliable. They molded to his and each sliding shift was a rush of friction that further heated his blood.

Though temperate compared the cold winter outside, the air around them rushed in cool against his feverish skin when she pulled away. She was on top of him, her smooth, slender legs straddling his hips, the hem of her skirt pushed far up her thigh. When did that happen? She'd had a touch of rouge on her lips but the layer of color had long since rubbed off, replaced by a swollen flush and he found he liked this natural reddened look far more, especially since he'd been the cause. She was staring at him, her expression as open as ever, and the play of emotions across her face bewildered and intrigued him. The slender hands resting against his chest began to move, shy, traveling up to his collar. He breathed a small, sharp gasp when her fingers met skin and he trembled as they climbed up his neck to find his cheeks. Her eyes seemed to glow as they searched his.

"I really missed you," her voice whispered, "I really, really missed you."

His throat was suddenly sandpaper dry and his lungs couldn't seem to capture enough air. Thumbs unconsciously rubbed slow, teasing circles against her hips where his hands had come to rest and after a difficult swallow, maybe two, he finally managed an answer.

"Me.. Me too."

A slow, coy smile began to grow on her face with his tentative assertion. She drew closer again, lowering herself back down to him and his eyelids began to drift closed when a low buzz rang out in the quiet room.

Kagome blinked, and blinked again. Turning, she reached for her phone on the couch, it's screen bright with an incoming message. She frowned down at it, before cracking a wry smile.

"Sango's telling everyone to go to bed early," she said, almost apologetically. His face fell, hovering at a point between disappointment and a touch of rueful hope. She dipped down, pressing a kiss firmly against his lips, claiming them, before sighing and leaning back to rise.

"I'll… see you at the wedding then?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said, remembering how to use his jaw, "Yeah, I'll be there."

She sent him a playful smile.

"Dancing, I hope?"

He brought up a hand to trace the outline of her cheek, the contact freezing her in place. His expression softened and smiled a small, private smile.

"Only if it's with you."

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone!