Contracting Love

A/N: Hey, this one came out a little faster this time. Yay, right? Unfortunately, you all may hate me for this chapter. Some of you may be surprised by the ferocity of Sango’s words and her reaction in this one, but I’m sure some of you will understand. I hope.

As always, reviews are welcomed, encouraged, and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. Damnit.

Chapter 15: Venom

Conscious thought came very slowly to her that morning. At first, it was only the feeling of the over-starched sheets covering her body and the too-hard mattress beneath her. When she rolled over her face came in contact with another pillow. The cool air of the room chilled the naked flesh of her back as she inhaled deeply. But the scent on the pillow was not her own, though it was familiar. And why was the shower running?

She bolted upright and squeaked as the cold air touched her breasts. Wrapping the blanket as tightly around her as she could, she stumbled out of bed and began looking franticly around for some clue as to what had happened the night before. Her dress lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Her shoes were in the hallway by the door while her bra had been thrown carelessly across the room and had landed on the back of a chair. A man’s white tuxedo shirt lay draped over the television, the pants and jacket having been carelessly left by the closet door.

Her eyes fell on the empty condom wrapper on the night stand. Curious, and not just a little suspicious, she picked it up. She rubbed her fingers together, feeling the cold, silky lubrication that had made its way onto the outside of the package.

**What the hell…?** she thought. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the torn package. **Ohmygod. OH. MY. GOD! This can’t be, it just can’t!** Panic began to rise from the pit of her stomach. She tried to get her breathing under control using the only weapon she had: logic. **Okay, let’s think about this for a second. Let’s just…think. Okay. There is no way in hell I was drunk enough last night to…to…that I would do something like that. There must be some other explanation.**

She began pacing, holding the empty condom wrapper tight to her chest. **Okay. Let’s just…let’s just think. I had a little too much to drink last night, right? How many drinks did I have? Six? Seven? Oh, shit, I lost count after six but I *know* I had more than that! Okay, I had more than six. …And I’m naked.** She stopped in her pacing to peak beneath the sheet she still held around her. **Oh, god, I’m naked. I’m very, very naked.**

She glanced in the mirror above the dresser and gasped. **I have sex hair!** She slowly began to take in the rest of her appearance. Her hair was mussed and tangled. Her makeup was faded and smeared in some places, her skin sticky with dried sweat. Her breast felt pleasantly heavy, her nipples overly sensitive as they pressed against the stiff hotel linen. She was sore and sticky between her thighs and, when she pulled the sheet apart slightly, she could just make out thin scratch marks along her hip.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I had sex with Miroku.” She reached down to lightly touch the scratches, her body flaring to life instantly and bringing an angry blush to her face. She quickly took her hand away and held the sheet more tightly to her, resuming her pacing as she repeated her earlier statement over and over in her head.

Absorbed in her panic, she didn’t realize Miroku’s jacket had gotten tangled around her feet and landed sprawled on the floor of the hotel room. She glared accusingly and grumbled as she pulled roughly at it in an effort to free herself. She stood, noticing something shiny sticking out of the pocket. Curious, she bent down to pick up the rumpled material and began rummaging through the pocket.

She opened her palm to reveal two more wrapped condoms. She stared at them, a feeling of dread growing within her.

**He planned this.** The thought struck her so hard she almost fell over with the shock. **Miroku… planned *all* of this. That’s why he let me drink so much last night. That’s why… Oh, god…** Pieces began coming back to her. Miroku had insisted on helping her upstairs. He’d kissed her by the elevator. She remembered his touch as he caressed her skin on their way up to her floor. She remembered him pulling her into her room, his hot breath on her skin as she lay naked before him. Dimly, she recalled being awakened from a deep sleep with the feel of him already deep inside her.

“I’m such a fool,” she whispered, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

The bathroom door opened, sending a blast of warm, damp air at her shoulders.

Miroku stopped just inside the door watching Sango. His skin was still damp from the shower. A towel was wrapped around his waist and he used a smaller hand towel to finish drying his hair. He’d woken up to the most wonderful feeling as the woman he loved slept in his arms. He’d wanted to be right there when she woke up so they could talk about the night before. There were clearly a few things he wanted to discuss. It had only taken one sniff, however, to tell him how badly he needed a shower. Grudgingly, he’d pulled himself away, aware that his Sango might be just a little confused, not to mention embarrassed, when she finally did wake up and would probably need a moment to herself before facing him.

And now he watched her standing there with her back to him, the bed sheet wrapped tightly around her, her hair mussed from sleep and other things and he thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world right now. But something wasn’t right. He could see her face reflected in the dresser mirror as she looked at something in her hand. She didn’t look confused. She looked hurt.

**Oh shit,** he thought. **Maybe she‘s having regrets already. Maybe I did something last night that hurt her.** He swallowed thickly, his shame already growing. “Sango?” he hedged.

She stiffened instantly, her face hardening and anger burning through her body. Slowly, she turned, her jaw tightening with the effort, her heart breaking with every movement. “You sonofabitch,” she said softly.

He saw the condoms clenched in her fist and paled slightly. **Fuck. This does *not* look good.** “Wait, Sango. This isn’t what it looks like. I can explain.”

She was getting more pissed off by the second. “Save it!” she spat, throwing the condoms at him and marching over to her purse which lay by her shoes at the door. Grabbing it, she headed over to the small table and pulled our her checkbook, scribbling angrily on one of the pages.

“…What are you doing?”

“Paying you,” she hissed. “Seeing as how I was too shit-faced last night to discuss prices with you, I guess I’ll just give you whatever seems fair. Say, two-thousand?”

“Sango…”

“What? Not enough? Okay.” She voided the check and moved to the next one. “How about three, then? I think that’s seems reasonable, don’t you? I don’t remember much, but I’m sure you were worth every penny.” She tore the check out of the book and stomped toward him, thrusting the check in his direction.

He stood dazed, looking from the check she held out to him to her face. He turned cold seeing her anger.

“Sango…” he warned, his fury threatening to surface.

“Such an elaborate scheme must have take quite a bit of planning. Well, it worked. You got what you wanted from me, just like I got what I wanted from you. Here. Take it,” she said as he met her eye. “You deserve it.”

He grabbed the check, shredding it viciously, and flung it at her feet. “Damnit, Sango! I don’t want your fucking money! I’m not a fucking whore!”

“Then what would you call it? Most men I know don’t carry a ready supply of rubbers in their pocket wherever they go!”

“Most women I know don’t open their legs as fast as you did!”

THWAK!

The force of her slap left his cheek throbbing so bad he was sure she had left an imprint of her hand that he’d be feeling for days. His anger somewhat diminished by the shock, he turned his face slowly back toward her. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling this time and they left wet trails along her flushed cheeks.

“Get out,” she whispered, her voice horse with emotion. Miroku started to open his mouth to say something but she beat him to it. “GET OUT!!!”

He didn’t say a word as he pulled on just enough clothing to be decent. Sango stayed frozen, staring at an imaginary spot on the carpet as he went around the room gathering his things. The door slammed loud enough to reverberate through her bones and making her jump. She waited a few minutes before the strain of keeping herself upright left her body and she collapsed in a heap.

Now there was nothing holding the tears back. She let them fall, her heartache growing with each sob.

***

A/N: (curls in fetal position and cries) No! They can’t fight! Somebody *do* something! …Wait…