Inuyasha and co. belong to Rumiko Takahashi, not me, however much I may wish it…

Love Lost

She was very distrustful of his intentions at first - this was a dangerous age for a woman to be in. It wasn't like five hundred years ago, when a man couldn't lay a hand on a woman without the whole village knowing about it. But after a few weak drinks at the bar, she finally decided that the man was fine. A little on the crude side, but he was fine. In fact, he sort of reminded her of him.

So when he asked her if she would like to get out of the bar and go to his place, she said yes without thinking. If she had thought, she would have refused him - but the memory of him was so strong, the half-forgotten dream of feeling protected no matter what whenever he was there, won out over common sense. So she followed him to his car before she thought about it, and was in his car and driving through the darkness of Tokyo before she realized that she was in a car being driven by a complete stranger to Kami-knew-where.

He took her to a house in the middle of Tokyo - a strange occurrence in and of itself; the house that he took her to, though, was larger than anything she had seen. While most of Tokyo was living in a small apartment with barely enough room for a bed, he was living in a veritable mansion. She didn't know who she was dealing with, but she knew that he must be important.

Pulling into the house, the stranger gave a good-natured hand to her, with a look of mischief on his face as he helped her out of her car. Leading her into the house, they both took their shoes off before entering the first real room - the kitchen. He asked her if she wanted anything to eat; she accepted a small bowl of fruit salad from him, having had very little to eat before going to the club she had met him at.

They talked of frivolous things for a while, and when the champagne glasses stood empty, she felt ready to complete the mission that she set out that night to do. She had decided that she couldn't spend the rest of her life in the shadow of his memory. She had decided to become a woman, and this man seemed like a good man to do the job. He seemed gentle, and kind, and didn't seem like someone who would try to take advantage of her. It didn't hurt, either, that he reminded her so much of him.

She had been on very few dates in her life. The thought of him was always intruding on whatever dates she had been on, and tonight was no different. But she tried to block thoughts of the man she truly loved from her mind, and began to seriously flirt with the man in front of her.

The alcohol she had consumed made her freer with her words and actions than might have otherwise been the case, and she could feel the liquid courage working the way she had wanted it to when she decided to go to the bar. Barely over the age where she could start drinking, she was still the only virgin in her group of friends, and that made her feel very self-conscious when they were talking about their social lives - not to mention when they teased her about it.

She finally screwed up enough courage to lean in towards him, very provocatively, and brush her lips against his. He seemed to understand that she needed gentleness or, like a wild horse, she would shy away, and he would lose this chance with her. He responded to her advance with a tenderness that belied his gruff exterior, and when he led her towards his bedroom, holding her around the waist loosely, it felt right.

When he saw her at the bar, it was like seeing her again. The looks were the same, and what little he got of her natural scent, under the strong perfume, was close enough to hers that he could delude himself, for just a little while, that this was her. It had been a long time since he had seen her, and to at least be able to pretend for a little while that he was with her again.

When she accepted his invitation to his house, he thought that it was too good to be true. He was, for the first time in so long -since her, actually - interested in a woman. Even if it was a woman who was almost an exact replica of her. He had spent so many lonely nights, and had been contemplating making this his last night. But tonight, maybe he wouldn't spend it alone, and maybe he would find a way to heal his heart - and himself.

Talking to the woman almost seemed like speaking to her. There were differences, of course, but he was changed now, and the differences were small, minute. So when she began to flirt with him, he returned her attentions. And when she kissed him, he had convinced himself that it was her who was there with him - even though she had never acted this way with him - and treated the kiss with the reverence he would have if it were truly her.

In a split-second decision, he deepened the kiss, embracing the woman so like his love, so like her. He pulled her gently to him, and let the tenderness he felt towards the phantom woman he knew he would never have, who was gone, meld into the kiss. She pressed her body gently into his, an unbidden and instinctual call to him, an innocent plea for more.

He led her to his bedroom, that room that had been empty since it had been built. He ran his hands lightly over her form, his hands memorizing her body in an instinctual need for contact. He kissed her this time, and she leaned into his caresses, her arms snaking up to cling to him, unintentionally deepening the kiss. He pulled her to him as well, and wrapped his arms around her - one to keep her there, and the other to work the zipper on her short, dark blue dress.

As he pulled the tab down slowly, savoring the feeling of her body pressed tightly to his, her arms fell leisurely from around his neck, pushing the unbuttoned dress shirt from his shoulders, running her fingers across his toned skin, dancing on them, producing an involuntary ripple of skin and muscle.

Quickly - or at least what seemed as much to them - the outer garments were gone, in a mixed pile on the floor. He gently led her backwards to the bed, and leaned her down onto it. He knelt at the foot of the bed in front of her and slowly removed the mid-thigh hose she was wearing.

Once he was finished, he gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, looking for the sign that she wanted to continue, for he knew that once this began for real, he wouldn't be able to stop. She seemed to understand what he was asking, and slowly, decisively, nodded, never breaking eye contact with him.

After gaining her assent, he stood slowly, cupped her chin, and, once more, kissed her gently.

They each seemed to know, instinctively, what the other needed. He stroked her leg gently as his mouth slowly blazed a trail from her mouth down her neck, over her shoulder, and to the gentle swell of her breast. His arms converged under her back to unlatch her bra and unhurriedly removed it, kissing each bit of skin that was revealed to him. Her arms encircled his back, and then his arms, and then his shoulders. As he moved, so did she, all nervousness gone in the wake of his gentle ministrations.

He moved slowly down her stomach. He treated her like a treasure he never thought he would be able to touch, and she closed her eyes in pleasure as he kissed her sensitized skin. He removed the thin piece of fabric that kept her from him, and then kissed her most hidden area.

She had never been touched there by anyone before, and didn't know what to expect. Whatever was to come, though, she completely trusted this man who held her so gently.

He delved into her secret places, causing the most unique, pleasurable sensations to course through her body from her center, steadily growing until each seemed to draw her core tighter and tighter, like a spring about to surge forward. His tongue seemed to tease her, not allowing the spring to coil tight enough to implode, and she gasped and begged him to finish what he had started.

Her hands dug into his hair, keeping him pinned to her, and he could not refuse her wordless pleas. She felt the spring inside of her coil as tight as it could, and then it released, all at once. Her eyes closed of their own will, and behind her eyelids she saw bursts of bright colors and lights as her body shook with the feelings he had caused.

As she lay in a quivering mass of blissful pulsation, he stood and removed his remaining garments - not that here were very many. She was panting and trying to regain the breath that had been lost when he took his position over her once again. Supporting himself so that he didn't crush her with his weight, he dragged a long, passionate, heated kiss from her. His hand skimmed down her leg and pulled it up to open her to him, and she, too far gone to remember what she had to tell him before he took her, moved her other leg in a provocative invitation to him. He pressed kisses to her chin and face as he positioned himself, and, mind fogged with passion, pressed into her swiftly and deeply.

Her body stiffened for a moment, not in pain but in surprise; the breaching of her maidenhead was not as painful as she expected, but the invasion of his largeness was uncomfortable to her untried body. He sensed her discomfort and paused for a second, but she relaxed almost immediately and, his inner beast hungering for what it had anticipated, he pulled back and surged forward quickly.

His thrusts reached deep into her, and, though at first she did not know what to do, as the pleasure increased her body began to move with his. Both of them were acting completely on instinct, and when his thrusts became wild and uncontrolled, and she was crying out, begging for completion, he hit that special spot inside of her that took her over the edge, and him as well, as her pleasured convulsions wracked not only the outside of her body but the inside as well. They cried out together, both calling the names of the ones they loved and pretended to have found.

Finally, spent, he pulled the comforter from under them as she began to recover from the pleasurable, mind numbing pleasure, and curled into him as he pulled the blanket over her. He lay down by her side and pulled her close, kissed her temple, and both fell asleep in the other's arms.

In the morning, with the birds chirping outside by the glass door that led to a beautiful patio garden, they both awoke groggy and sated. He burrowed his head into her neck and placed chaste kisses, so unlike those of the night before, on her shoulder while she drifted into consciousness and stretched subtly. Her leg had slung over his waist in sleep, and his arms had locked her tight to him.

"Good morning," she said languorously.

"Keh." he mumbled from her shoulder, nuzzling the crook of her neck.

She laughed softly, remembering the same expression coming from her lost love such a long time ago. "That's not exactly a real response, you know," she admonished him.

"Too early. Breakfast first." he mumbled. He climbed out of bed and grabbed some clean boxers from the chest of drawers beside his bed. He stumbled to the kitchen after placing a kiss on her forehead, and began to make a ruckus. She assumed that he was trying to cook, and laughed. She grabbed his discarded shirt from the night before, and blushed slightly as she remembered what had transpired.

"Would you mind terribly if I took a shower?" she called to the noisy chef, noticing the traces of their night together.

"Go ahead," he called back. "The towels are in the cabinet under the sink."

After cleaning up, she donned her pilfered garment and walked into the kitchen, where she was greeted by the sight of a huge homemade breakfast. Plain omelets, sausage links, bacon, ham, and a fresh fruit salad, accompanied by fresh made orange juice (or almost, anyway - he was still juicing the oranges) and English muffins.

"Wow." It was all that came to mind, and it seemed beyond appropriate.

He grinned at her obvious speechlessness, and gestured grandly towards the barstools set up at the granite-covered island. "Help yourself, milady."

They both dug into the food quickly, and, even though the amount was large, it disappeared quickly. Once it was, they both seemed to migrate over to the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then she broke it with one of the hardest questions he had ever had to answer.

"What next?"

The answer should have been obvious, considering what they had spent together the night before, and with the way he felt about her, but the feeling s he still held for her were holding him back. He finally decided that she wouldn't want him to be lonely, and would have wanted him to have a real chance at love.

"Well, we should probably figure out some things about each other, and then, maybe… dinner?"

"That sounds like a good plan," she said, smiling. Then, frowning, she asked, "Last night, when did I tell you my name?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She blushed. "Well, you called my name when we…" Her face rivaled the color tone of a tomato. "I don't remember telling you my name."

"I called your name?" he asked.

"Loudly. Very loudly. You practically screamed Kagome."

He stared at her, his heart thumping. Studying her features, he took a deep breath, and the strong scent was different than what he remembered, but not as much - simply more mature. "Kagome?" he whispered, almost fearfully.

"Yeah." she answered, looking at him strangely.

He reached up to the clasp on a very unobtrusive necklace he was wearing, hesitating before swiftly removing it. Her eyes seemed to become unfocused, and the image of him blurred. When it cleared, the man she had spent the night with was gone, to be replaced by him. Kagome's eyes widened, and she slowly stood up and started backing away.

"Now I know that I'm going crazy," she suddenly sobbed.

"Kagome, it's me. It's Inuyasha. Kagome? Are you alright?" He rushed to her side and gently touched her arm. "Are you alright?" he repeated.

"Are you real? Are you really him?" she asked, sobbing. "Or have I finally gone crazy?"

"I'm real, Kagome. I'm real." He wasn't prepared for her sudden launch towards him, or her almost smothering him in kisses.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed when she finally let him come up for air. "I had almost given up on ever seeing you again, Inuyasha." She clutched him to her, burying her head in his shoulder. "That's what I was doing last night."

"Cheater. That's what I was doing last night." he whispered. Then he laughed. "The reason I even stopped from getting too drunk to see straight was because you resembled yourself so much. I looked at you, and I thought you were, well, you. But I didn't actually think that you were… you."

She suddenly stiffened, and pulled back to glare at him. "Are you telling me that you've slept with girls just because they looked like me?"

"Kagome, that was the first time since you left that I had even been interested in looking at a woman." he answered her interrogation.

She snorted, then hugged him again. "I'm never going to leave again, Inuyasha. I'm so sorry I did before, but I was so confused…"

"Well, you better not be confused now, because I plan on marrying you just so you can't run off again," he murmured, raising her chin so he could kiss her again. She leaned into the kiss, and slid her arms up to circle his neck.

Picking her up bridal style, never breaking the kiss, he headed back towards the bedroom. He was ready for a repeat performance, and so was she.

I've had a number of people favorite this story, and I thought that it would be time to mention a few things. First of all, to all of you who have favorited this story – or my account, because of my story – I give many thanks. It is the best praise for an author of any sort to have someone care about their work so much that they want to be told when updates are available.

Second, I regret to inform all of you that favorited this story specifically that it was only ever meant to be a one-shot. I decided to make this short and sweet, so that I would be able to finish the story with grace and dignity; all the stories I have written with more than one chapter have died slow and painfully pathetic deaths.

I have recently begun to attempt to write again (after a few years hiatus), and if I ever do post again, I hope you will read and enjoy those stories as much as you have enjoyed this one. Thank you, again, for reading this fanfiction. It is my honor to have entertained you.

Avoria