Beside You in Time: 1848

1848: Castlebar, Ireland


In the absence of a pub, his smithy had become the town's meeting place for gossip and news. That hadn't been the plan - if he'd foreseen that, he would have chosen another of the many professions he'd mastered over the years that he could practice in relative anonymity. Kagome, however, had quickly grown attached to the small, suffering community. She had convinced him to remain in the center of things, in exchange for a promise that she would ensure that the townsmen left him to work in peace.

Unfortunately, Kagome wasn't always around to remind them.

"Don't you agree, Liam?" asked Thomas Flynn, looking towards the taiyoukai. He stood in the middle of a circle of ten men - all dirty and thin. And all of them with a fire in their eyes that Sesshoumaru had seen too often before someone did something supremely stupid. "I think we're overdue!"

He examined the horseshoe he had been shaping. "For what?" he murmured, trying to stretch the moments until Kagome got home.

"For our own revolution!" answered Flynn, looking flustered. "The poor of Europe are revolting against their tyrants, and we're here, starving. We're being turned out of our homes and forced to watch our children die. And the English do nothing but tax us! Doesn't that deserve action?"

"Hn. Undoubtedly," said Sesshoumaru, "but you're proposing a violent revolt against a powerful throne."

"There are rumblings all across Europe. The people of France have already thrown off their oppressors," called Daniel Sullivan.

"In Paris. They threatened the life of the king and won by sheer numbers and with arson," the demon pointed out. He paused. "And with several casualties. Who here is prepared to fight England?"

A murmur rose from the crowd. "We all are," said Flynn, curling his hands into fists.

Sesshoumaru stilled their nods with a glance. "And who is able?" he asked. "Who has had a meal in the past three years that can rival the meal that the lowliest infantryman in the British Army had this morning? Do any of even own a rifle?"

"Had one," muttered a man named O'Connell that had long ago been evicted from his hovel on a quarter of an acre. "They took it to pay for my taxes."

Flynn pounced upon this, although he certainly already knew. "Do you see? They've even taken away our ability to fight for ourselves!" he exclaimed.

The taiyoukai thrust the horseshoe back into the forge. "I wonder why," he commented dryly.

"The English should find out exactly what we can do," the other man insisted. "Ireland has a will of its own!"

"You want them to feed us, and yet, you claim that we should have autonomy?" asked Sesshoumaru with a frown. "If you burned Ireland to the ground, the English will rejoice that they have charcoal to sell and freshly turned earth to plant instead of Irish to feed."

"But if we did," pressed Flynn. He was never a man that gave up, even in easier times. Kagome once confided that he reminded her of a 'used car salesman' - something Sesshoumaru understood was not entirely flattering. "Would you join us, Liam? Would Maeve?"

The rest of the men stopped whispering amongst themselves to listen for the answer, but Sesshoumaru wasn't surprised at the desire for his cooperation. His regenerative abilities meant that he didn't waste away as the townspeople did in the face of starvation - he was a beast among men these days with his straight back and strong limbs. He knew that he and Kagome's health inspired both awe and envy, as well as a measurable amount of fear. Kagome's label of 'witch' had followed her here because of it.

"We would, if it came to that," he murmured at last, "but I still counsel against the entire idea."

"I would rather die fighting for Ireland than go on starving in the streets," Flynn said.

A welcome scent floated into the smithy. "I certainly hope you're willing to hasten others to their violent deaths, Thomas," Kagome said, appearing where the group of men parted for her. "Because that's all that will be accomplished."

"Maeve," the man began again.

She shook her head as she pushed back the scarf that covered her black hair. "Die for your country or your people or your family, Thomas," she said with a tired sigh. "Don't die for stupidity's sake. And don't confuse the two."

Sesshoumaru watched as the men were pushed back from the precipice with just a few words from the one woman in the room. He shouldn't be as impressed by it anymore - he'd seen her do it with Inuyasha often enough, even when the half-breed was on the edge of a crazed, demonic rampage. She'd managed to talk him out of committing a few acts of extreme violence over the years, too. Still, it could be a sharp reminder of how effective her half of this newly balanced partnership could be - how easily she could handle herself, with or without him along. He wondered when she had become the powerful and influential one.

As the men turned to one another and grudgingly admitted that revolting in the their isolated corner of the country wouldn't achieve anything, Kagome approached the taiyoukai. "Sorry to leave you with the baby revolutionaries," she whispered with a sardonic smile.

"They could mount an entire rebellion from this shop for all I care," he replied, watching the Irishmen start to bicker amongst themselves again. "I simply wish that they would leave me to myself."

"I know you try to avoid getting involved in human conflicts, but, of all the battles to be fought, isn't this a fairly worthy one?" Kagome asked, lifting her eyes to his.

He snorted. "You just admitted that it would be a slaughter," he said. "And what would we do? Fight with half our hearts and do nothing to stem the bloodshed, since all survivors would be put to death anyway? Or should we turn the tide by giving it our full effort?"

She sighed and nodded. "How many times have we had this conversation?"

"Just about this potential conflict?" he asked. "At least four."

"Sorry," she said, sounding more tired than apologetic.

He arched an eyebrow in her direction. "Need I guess where you've been all this time?"

Kagome shook her head. "Kind of pointless. Can't you smell it?"

Death did linger in her clothes and hair - it overwhelmed the scent of freshly turned soil, the forge and the few lives she managed to bring into the world. She wasn't a healer or midwife so much as an angel of death these days. Families hoped and prayed for too long before calling Kagome to their sick and dying relatives' bedsides, although she never charged a penny for her service. She was extraordinarily comforting in giving grim news - perhaps they need to hear the inevitable, instead of just knowing it. Sesshoumaru wished they didn't. It was starting to take a toll on Kagome's heart.

"Anyway," she continued, "I only lost one today. Almost a record."

He would have guessed two or three by the dark look in her eyes. "Did anything else happen?"

"Well, I heard that Rooney is coming," she murmured. "His horse needs a new set of shoes."

It was highly unwelcome news. "Perhaps if he didn't evict every other blacksmith in the county, he wouldn't have to come so far," muttered Sesshoumaru. "When is he arriving?"

"Tomorrow, most likely," she said. "He has some of his ghastly business to conduct. Back-taxes to collect. People to kill with his callousness. You know, the typical."

The taiyoukai sniffed and began to work on the half-formed shoe again. Officially, Rooney was known as a 'middleman', the conduit between the dirt-poor, Irish tenants and the absentee, English earl that owned most of the county. Unofficially, he was called a 'blood-sucker' and far worse. He boasted of having evicted more families than any other man in Ireland, and he delighted in scooping up the last few of his tenants' belongings in order to pay rent and fees. Rooney, an Irishman himself, gloried in the pocketful of coins (and the bellyful of food) that came along with harassing his fellow countrymen. Sesshoumaru was certain that he had behaved no more honorably before he got the job - Rooney was the sort of person that could have gotten on famously with Naraku. "We will end up paying him for the privilege of shoeing his horse," he guessed. "He'll remember a new tax that he has not levied against us yet."

"I'm sure," agreed Kagome, "but turning business away will only raise suspicion. Rooney would find some excuse to make our lives hell if he even imagined we were disrespecting his lofty position of middleman."

"I do not believe he would bother with an excuse," said the dog demon.

Kagome leaned heavily on his workbench. "How much longer do we have to stay here?" she asked, her voice low and tired.

He glanced at the men still talking at the entrance the smithy and then, back at her. "We could leave immediately," he replied.

Predictably, her eyes lowered, and she shook her head. "No, we can't," she said with a sigh. "Don't tease. We can't wait for all this time to give up."

"I was not mocking you," Sesshoumaru said, pulling the horseshoe from the forge again. It glowed red-hot between them. "The shape-shifters will come to us elsewhere."

She smiled softly at him and put a hand on his forearm. "I can manage it. I'd feel worse if we left now and didn't accomplish anything. We should stay for long enough to make some difference." She paused and glanced at the crowd. "Even if it's not for them."

"There is no one that will not be helped by the shape-shifters' deaths," said Sesshoumaru, "even if they are not aware of it. Since we cannot find the man pulling the strings of the Order and of Europe..."

"Lucas," Kagome said, although they both knew the name as well as their own.

He nodded and quickly hammered out a few, remaining places where the shoe needed to be smoothed. When the echo of the tool was silenced, he said, "Since we cannot find him, the shape-shifters will receive our attention for now."

"They've killed far fewer people than the English have with their inaction here," she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're beginning to sound like Flynn."

Her smile reappeared - this time, darkly amused. "Speaking of whom, I'll get rid of them," she said, straightening. "It's getting late, and we have other work to finish."

Sesshoumaru inspected the horseshoe one, final time and put it aside to cool, while Kagome softly announced that they were closing up shop for the night. The men shuffled out, looking like chastened teenagers - it was rare that she was so quiet and distant with them as she had been tonight. A couple hung back, receiving small words of encouragement and promises to visit their wives and children from Kagome. A witch she might be, but the men were all willing to invite her into their homes for the chance to have some of her sturdy health to rub off on their families.

"Someday, they will turn against you," warned Sesshoumaru, when the large, double doors had been shut behind the last of the men.

"No," she disagreed. "There were others that could deliver children and set bones and cure upset stomachs, but they've died."

He scoffed lightly. "They were witches in the townspeople's eyes, too. They may be Catholic, but they still believe in spirits and goblins. And witchcraft is easily blamed for the evil that befalls them. That is befalling them." He glanced up at her. "And you look too different to be one of them."

She shrugged his concerns away, just as she always did. "Help me with this, and let's see if they're right about me," she said, although her joking words were weighted down with a gloomy tone.

He shed his heavy, leather blacksmith's apron and rolled his sleeves back down again. "I would prefer that you did not try," he muttered, although he knew it would do no good. He didn't even bother pausing in jumping up and pulling the bound tome from its place in the eaves of the thatched smithy. Loose papers fluttered as he set down and handed over the book. "This is an exercise in futility."

"That's not true."

"You have been working on this since Vienna," he said as she began to paw through the pages that were grungy from constant handling. "You need to accept that, although you may possess the determination, you do not have the capability."

Her eyes slanted towards him. "These things almost took you down," she said, waving a tattered slip of paper at him. After twenty-four years, it was crisp to the touch, but he could still read the words that had bound him, sucking him dry of his physical and demonic abilities in that house in Vienna. "If those awful men could do it, so can I. Since they aren't sutras, like we originally thought, there should be no problem!"

"And yet, there is," he said. He plucked the paper from her fingers, ignoring her wince as it tore at the edges.

"Careful!"

He didn't listen - he would destroy it, if she let him. It had taken several days after leaving Vienna before they had felt secure enough to sit for a moment and examine the papers that she had torn off of him inside that burning house. He still remembered the way Kagome's eyes had widened in shock when she'd seen that the supposed sutras weren't sutras at all. Instead, Latin verses speaking of a single God, Satan and exorcism covered the pages. Sesshoumaru vaguely recognized that they were incantations from a grimoire - a book of Christian magic, not Buddhist or Shinto. They were officially out of their element.

It had taken ages to track down their first grimoire, and it wasn't even the correct one. A few more years had brought them to The Book of Abramelin, a grimoire of intense complexity. Kagome, it turned out, liked nothing better than solving a puzzle. Sesshoumaru, however, didn't see the point her frenzy over them.

"If we could just figure out how to work these spells," Kagome said as she flipped through the book, "we could possibly bind those damn shape-shifters. Don't tell me it's of no use."

He dropped the paper onto the counter. "I would prefer that you practice your marksmanship."

She let out another sigh. Her guns were hidden away - such deeply ingrained skills as hers wouldn't fade easily, but it had been some time since she'd been able to shoot. Rifles were so rare in these days, and her stash - along with her remaining jewelry - was worth too much to expose by going to it often. "Not to mention," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "if we encounter these things again, we'll be better equipped to deal with them if we know how they work."

Sesshoumaru couldn't deny that, but he remained unconvinced about the chances of success. "You are not Christian," he pointed out.

"I've pretended at it long enough," she said. "Besides, this thing promises wealth and invisibility and the power to fly. Those are some pretty hefty miracles for a mere man to undertake. I'm not sure that's what their God had in mind."

"Since when is righteousness required to use the magic of any religion?" he asked, thinking of the Buddhist monks that had fought to take away Rin. Their ignorance still grated on his memory.

She shook her head. "Never, I suppose." She turned a page. "The problem is that they've used this as a jumping off point, not a strict, step-by-step instruction manual. I might have to go through the entire ritual to make any of it work."

"And how long will that take?"

Kagome gave him the hard, little smile that she had been using so much lately. "Almost two years. Not a long time for us, but it's really restrictive. Constant devotions, no alcohol, chastity. That's just to begin with."

He arched an eyebrow. "Chastity," he repeated.

She gave a short bark of laughter. "I wish that one were more of a problem to keep these days."

A ridiculous image formed in Sesshoumaru's mind of Kagome pressing up against him, kissing his throat and wearing nothing. He pushed it away immediately - Kagome had remained close to him since their reunion, and he knew she hadn't taken a lover since her husband's death. She didn't seem bothered by it. She hadn't suggested that they go back to being brother and sister instead of husband and wife, which would free her to do as she pleased. Her mourning clearly had not come to an end, despite her jokes.

Out loud, he said, "If two years are required, you will not need me tonight." He stood.

"I'm not quite ready to go through all that," she said quickly, before he could make his escape. She pulled a short stack of freshly written spells from the back of the grimoire. "Be my guinea pig?"

He lowered himself to sit again, keeping an eye on how her fingertips began to glow pink. "This is not your brand of magic," he said, trying one, last time.

"I know," Kagome said, staring at the papers in her hand. A moment passed, and her eyes suddenly fixed on him. "But maybe it's yours?"

"As a demon, it is probably even less suited to me," he observed.

She shook her head. "This is magic that is learned, not innate. You're probably right - my holy powers are likely interfering. But for you, it'll be more like learning a new attack with your sword or something."

For twenty-four years, he had not offered to help her in casting these spells and for good reason. "Magic is not my gift," he murmured. It was a vast understatement - dog demons were not prone to having these abilities, but he'd been even more lacking than most. His mother had been distressed - she was unusually talented - but his father had simply shrugged and dismissed the tutor. His classes in swordsmanship doubled in turn, which was pleasing. He disliked having to admit to any failing.

Of course, he had never mentioned this to Kagome. "Perhaps you didn't have the right teacher," she said, sounding more hopeful than she had in a month.

He'd regret it one way or another, so Sesshoumaru decided to go with the choice that at least made one of them happy. He reached out and took the slips of paper as she smiled.

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At ten the next morning, Kagome was barely starting her day, shuffling around and rubbing at her eyes - his magical aptitude hadn't improved since childhood, and the majority of the night had been spent testing her patience. He didn't sleep at all - strictly speaking, neither of them needed to. But it was a human affectation of hers, and one he suspected she would never give up entirely. He was only surprised that she managed to do it with that tell-tale pull in the pit of her stomach - they'd both felt it last night. The shape-shifter was bearing down on them suddenly and quickly, although neither had actually said a word about it.

"No one has appeared," he said.

"You wouldn't have woken me up if there was," she accused with a sleepy smile. "Especially if it were Rooney."

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "You constantly advise me against the murder of humans that simply annoy me," he said. "Why should you be allowed to break that rule?"

"You don't want me to have all the fun," Kagome said, laughing lightly as she rolled her neck. Sleeping on straw could be rough on even an immortal's body.

He looked up at her as she stretched - she was still in her thin chemise. Even though the only light came from the open doors on the other end of their home, near the forge, he could see the outline of her figure. "You should get dressed," he murmured.

Kagome laughed again, although she didn't sound as amused this time. "For all the customers we have?" she asked.

For my sake, Sesshoumaru thought, his eyes skimming over her once again.

She caught him - he was rarely so obvious, and he could see that his careless slip startled her. "Sesshoumaru?" she began, bringing her arms up to cross over her chest. "Are you alright?"

He determinedly fixed his gaze to her face, vaguely annoyed that Kagome seemed to be putting him at a loss more and more often these days. And he'd been staring. But before he could answer - before he could even begin to formulate a convincing excuse - a collective cry reverberated through the entire village, so loud that Kagome heard it too.

"What was that?" she whispered, freezing in place.

Sesshoumaru took a step towards the door. "You should get dressed," he said again, not leaving any room for argument this time.

She scrambled into her dress, still tightening the bodice as they left the smithy. "Where?" she asked simply.

He took her by the arm and led her through the streets, almost at a run. The shouting grew more frantic, and the volume swelled, echoing through the village and bouncing off of every surface.

Kagome seemed to know before they saw it. "I should have talked to him more," she said several times on the way. "Calmed him down." His keen hearing told him that she was right, but she still gasped when they reached the town square.

A man was face-down on the ground, slick with dirt and blood. It was Rooney - their one customer of the day and the most hated man in the County Mayo.

"Where is his entourage?" Kagome muttered.

He pointed out the four policemen that normally accompanied Rooney on rent collections and evictions. Each man was already bound and gagged at the fringe of the crowd, enduring hurled insults but no kicks to the face or stomach just yet. "Safe, for the moment," he replied.

She looked furious. "I suppose we have to rescue him."

"If we wait much longer, there will not be much to rescue," Sesshoumaru observed.

Her mouth set into a determined, little frown as she plowed forward, pushing the rioting villagers aside. "Thomas!" she shouted. "Thomas, what are you doing?"

Flynn's head jerked up from where he had been glaring down at his victim. Sesshoumaru saw a flicker of guilt cross the man's face before he squared his shoulders. "You hate this bastard just as much as I do, Maeve," he growled.

"Yes," agreed the miko with a stiff nod, "but I was never planning on murdering him in the broad daylight, in full view of most of the villagers. We talked about this sort of violence last night. We agreed!"

"You gave your opinion," snapped Flynn. Rooney was beginning to stir in the mud, groaning and flipping over to his back. "I have respected your wishes until now, Maeve, but I don't have to obey!"

"It was for your safety!" replied Kagome. "Your family, Thomas! What will happen to them when you're hanged for murder?"

It was the wrong thing to say - Flynn's gaze hardened in an instant. "The same that will happen to them if I'm not," he seethed, turning his back on Kagome to deliver a swift kick to Rooney's ribs. The middleman gave a low moan. "He's evicted us. We're going to starve, just like the rest of them. Why should I wait for such an end? Why shouldn't I first deliver the blows that I can?"

Kagome's shoulders slumped. "Evicted? Thomas, I'm sorry. I didn't know," she said, stepping closer to him.

"The crops fail every damn year, and the little that is grown must be turned over in rent," muttered Flynn. "The workhouse is always full. And the earl does nothing. England does nothing. I am being thrown off the little land I have so that the earl can raise cattle and grow wheat, so that he may make money. Am I supposed to watch my children die in the streets like the others so that he can line his pockets? I refuse, Maeve!"

Sesshoumaru scowled as Kagome's breath shuddered throughout her frame - every dead child was another pound of weight on her shoulders. She suffered from the overpowering guilt because she did not suffer from famine or fever.

"The new crop," Flynn continued, "is turning black already. The blight has returned in force."

"And so will the English troops, if you keep this up," Kagome sighed. She crouched over Rooney, putting a hand on his elbow.

"What are you doing?" demanded Thomas.

She scoffed lightly. "Saving you from yourself, Thomas," she replied. "I'm getting him out of here."

Flynn looked panicked. "No!" he breathed, pushing her back before she could react. She went sprawling into the mud with a cry.

Sesshoumaru moved between them in a blink, shoving Thomas backwards so far that three people toppled as they tried to jump out of the way. "You will not touch my wife again, Flynn," he snarled at the shocked man before turning back to the miko. He pulled her to her feet, assessing her with a sweep of his eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a bit muddy, I promise," she whispered, her voice shaking only a bit. He couldn't tell if she was more startled by his concern or by Flynn's sudden, murderous desires. "But we need to get Rooney out of here. I don't think logic is going to rule the day this time." She glanced down at the middleman, who was still unconscious and bleeding.

The taiyoukai hauled Rooney to his feet, slinging the injured man's arm over his shoulder. He could smell death lurking at the edges of his scent - survival would be a test of endurance he wasn't certain the human could pass. Still, his demise would serve no purpose. He knew that revenge rarely provided full satisfaction of a pain.

"Liam! You promised you would help!" called Thomas. "Please, understand! Lucas will pay us for his death!"

Every villager fell silent for a long, tense moment before erupting. Payment. It meant the ability to buy food for their children, pay off their back rent, buy back their farming equipment and the seed potatoes for a fresh crop. Everything would be solved, was the common refrain, if only they had money.

Kagome and Sesshoumaru froze for a different reason. "Lucas?" Kagome asked. "Oh no."

The taiyoukai scanned the faces that were surging towards him. "He must be here."

The miko was already stalking over to Flynn, dragging him up by the collar as the villagers flowed past her. "Where is Lucas? When did he talk to you? What did he say?"

"He's a revolutionary!" replied the Irishman. "He wants to help us, Maeve!"

"You are so foolish, Thomas," she shot back, her tone becoming shrill. "He just wants you to commit murder for him."

Sesshoumaru listened to the exchange as best as he could while he shoved away the approaching villagers. Rooney was taking up the use of one arm, but that was nothing new to the taiyoukai - what was uncomfortable was the fact that he couldn't harm them. The townspeople didn't want to fight their towering blacksmith either, but the promise of money was too good to pass up. They grabbed at the middleman, trying to drag him out of Sesshoumaru's vise-like grip. "Maeve!" he growled loudly as the sunken, starved faces began to crowd in around him.

She fought her way back to his side - weak, Irish peasants were no match for Kagome's strong limbs. "Don't be stupid!" she shouted as she went. "No one is getting paid for murdering this man!"

"I could have told them that," observed Sesshoumaru dryly.

"I'm not going to hurt them!" she said, bracing her forearm across the chest of a middle-aged man and forcing him back.

A rock arched over the heads of the villagers and glanced off of the taiyoukai's shoulder. "I wasn't suggesting that." He met her eyes as he plucked another rock out of the air. "But perhaps your witchcraft can finally be of use to us."

She stared for a second. "Just like that?" she asked. "We'd have to leave."

"I think," he growled as he planted a foot against young woman and shoved her away, "we have already diminished our standing in this village." He looked at her. "We cannot be complicit in this act of insanity."

It took her a moment to assess the mob and come to the same conclusion. "I hate him so much," she murmured, sending a scathing glance towards the middleman.

Rooney was beginning to come around, and the crowd seemed to sense it, roaring with anger. "You should make it a good show," Sesshoumaru shouted. "Sooner, rather than later!"

He tried to stay still as her power began to crackle over his skin. She raised her hands to the sky and began to chant, in Japanese, a short prayer to the gods - perhaps the only one she still remembered after such a long time apart from her traditional role. When the pink light engulfed her arms and flowed down over her body, the mob paused and stepped back. They were, as Sesshoumaru had said, believers in magic and legends. He wasn't surprised to hear the wave of whispers, speculating in awe what this interloper could be - changeling or sorceress, demon or goddess.

A dome arced over Sesshoumaru's head, enclosing the three of them inside a secure barrier. The purification power singed his flesh and hair, but he was able to lower Rooney to the ground again. "Will it block them effectively?" he asked.

"That question is a little late," Kagome breathed, lowering her arms. "But yes. A barrier is a barrier. Unfortunately, it will also keep us in."

He crouched over Rooney's body, keeping away from the wall of purifying light. "I do not think they would cross you if you dropped the barrier now," he observed, glancing out at the frightened faces of the villagers.

She was looking too. "I've suddenly become a monster to them," she said with a sigh.

"You become accustomed to it," Sesshoumaru muttered.

Kagome shook her head. "I don't think so. You just learned to enjoy the benefits that went along with such a reputation. I could never do that."

He conceded that point with a nod. "It was likely to be revealed when the shape-shifter inevitably came, anyway."

"True," she agreed. "It's closer than we thought, too. I can feel it." She put a hand over her stomach, clearly feeling that rare, but familiar, tug that told them another immortal was close. It was bothering him, too. "This could be a case of really terrible timing."

Rooney groaned and rolled over, opening his eyes. "What?" he croaked, lifting a hand and rubbing it across his dirty and bloodied face. "Liam Doyle? The rutting blacksmith?"

"There's gratitude for you," muttered Kagome from where she stalked along the perimeter of her barrier.

"Ugh, and your rutting wife," sneered Rooney. His voice was muffled by his fat lip. "Don't tell me that the two of you pulled me out of that."

"Not so much 'out' as 'away from'," Sesshoumaru said, trying not to growl back at the injured man. "You're not quite out of it."

He twisted his head, frowning at the pink light that encased them. "What in the..."

"You need to inspect his wounds," interrupted the taiyoukai, addressing Kagome. "He likely has internal bleeding."

She sat down with a flounce of skirts and pressed two fingers into the soft flesh of Rooney's stomach, eliciting a screech of pain. "Likely," she agreed flatly. Switching to Japanese - a sign of her still soft heart, despite her abhorrence for the man himself - she continued, "If it is, he's probably going to die. He'll need a proper surgeon, not just a nurse like me. Even if I tried, I can't fix anything without cutting him open, and this place doesn't really provide a clean operating room, you know?"

Rooney quickly turned and vomited, barely missing Sesshoumaru's knees. Kagome arched an eyebrow. "That is definitely a bad sign."

The taiyoukai stood, barely suppressing the urge to wrinkle his nose. "So I see."

"What witchery are you two putting on me?" moaned Rooney.

"On you?" Kagome sniffed. "That's rich!"

Sesshoumaru watched the crowd as the miko examined and traded barbs with the foul-mouthed middleman. It seemed that she felt the need to keep him awake - an unfortunate circumstance, since the taiyoukai didn't care for Rooney any more than the villagers did. At least it distracted him somewhat from the upcoming battle. The pull within him was strengthening, urging him to step out of the barrier to meet the approaching shape-shifter. He had to agree with Kagome - it was awful timing. They might be saving the Thomas Flynn and the villagers from themselves, only to let them meet the claws of an immortal.

He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's here."

"How do they know that?" Kagome whispered.

Something had torn the townsfolk's attention away from the most elaborate display of magic they'd ever seen. "That is... unsettling," Sesshoumaru murmured, moving to the edge of the dome. The crowd had closed around them and turned to something that, even at his height, he could not yet see. It was what they were saying that disturbed him so greatly. "It seems that Lucas himself has arrived."

She was suddenly at his side. "Both of them?" she asked. "I suppose it's too much to hope that they'll kill each other?"

"... seen your plight, and I have come to answer it!" came a strong voice through the crowd.

He didn't believe in such coincidences. Sesshoumaru scowled as realization began to dawn. "I don't think that would be wise for either the Order or the shape-shifter."

"... England has done nothing, but Ireland could care for itself if not for the true menace..."

He saw the shiver that went down her spine. "Why is that?" It sounded as if she had forced herself to ask.

The taiyoukai's hands curled into fists as the villagers parted to let the speaker through. "Because," he growled as a barrel-chested, red-haired man came into view, "Lucas is the shape-shifter."

"The witch is the cause of all your troubles!" finished Lucas at the same time, pointing directly at Kagome.

In any other circumstances, Sesshoumaru was sure Kagome would have made a caustic comment about how tired that accusation was becoming. At the moment, however, she could only stand in shock. He wasn't even sure that she had heard him, but it didn't matter - the fact that the shape-shifter stood before them was immutable. So was the fact that he was also the one called Lucas, one of the most malicious members of the Order.

"H-how?" she managed after a moment.

"How could a demon work for the Order?" Sesshoumaru murmured, keeping a steady eye on Lucas as he carefully circled Kagome's barrier. "Or how could we not have noticed before? I cannot answer either one."

Lucas was still staring at her. "You have a woman that can do this in your village, and you wonder why your crops have turned black and poisoned?" he shouted. "You wonder why your children are sick and dying? You ask why you can't manage to keep bread in your own stomachs? You have harbored a witch! It cannot be borne!"

"Any bright ideas?" muttered Kagome.

"None that do not endanger every villager here," Sesshoumaru replied. "He holds them hostage now, whether they know it or not."

"I and my compatriots have not forgotten the old ways," continued Lucas. "These ancient evils have risen again to curse your lands and your fortunes. But if you join us, you will help rid Ireland of them and be paid for it, too! You will serve your country and your family! How could you ask for more?"

Kagome pulled away from his side before he could stop her. "They could ask not to become murderers!" she yelled. "These are good people, and you're tempting them like the snake you are!"

The shape-shifter smirked and leaned in as close as the barrier would allow. "And you're protecting the one of the few men whose death is not only deserved but could ease these people's suffering," he said.

"Do not answer him," said Sesshoumaru, pulling her back.

"But he is trying to recruit them!" she muttered, switching to Danish - their code language of choice.

He nodded. "And if you sway them back to their senses, he will undoubtedly kill them."

She sagged against him. "I don't ever want to have to kill these people for being members of the Order," she whispered.

"You would, at least, be merciful," he said. "If it ever came to that."

Some of the strength flowed back into her limbs as she pushed back against him. "Yes," she said slowly, "because I am not the evil one here. He is. And yet, he's pretending that he's not."

"Do you see?" shouted Lucas. "They talk in tongues! The Devil has laid his hand on them!"

Kagome ignored the shape-shifter's outburst. "I don't want to go out as just a witch," she said, turning to Sesshoumaru. "I want to be a wicked witch."

He tightened his jaw. "I can see this ending poorly," he muttered, "although, I suppose that is an improvement over the catastrophe we're promised at the moment."

"Great," Kagome said, lifting her chin. "Let's be bad guys."

Sesshoumaru hoisted the barely-conscious Rooney over one shoulder, choosing silence over expressing his doubts that Kagome could ever act as a convincing practitioner of the black arts. Still, she had surprised him before, on more than one occasion. Besides, she only needed to convince the villagers to whom she had already been lying for three years.

The barrier shimmered and dropped like water spilling off of glass. The crowd gasped and backed away as the pink light returned to Kagome's skin. "If Satan has given me his unholy blessing," she snapped, "then you must fear me! If I have spread a plague across this land and turned your crops into rot, then what stops me from doing the same to you?" She spun, baring her teeth to the villagers. "To all of you? How would you like to rot where you stand?"

A few women screeched as a scramble began, even before Kagome began to summon the bulk of her power. Tendrils of pink light soon wrapped around her, feeling outwards and pushing the crowd farther back. Sesshoumaru kept still again, watching as some wisps curled around him, without touching his body, to protect him from any attack.

She was burning hot - the corona of light almost blinded him. If Sesshoumaru had felt his flesh tingling before, now it was as if someone was holding a thousand pokers to his skin. But he could also hear her rapid breath and smell the hint of salty tears - Kagome said that cruelty could sometimes be kind, but he was fairly certain that threatening to slaughter the people that had called her 'friend' for so many years was not what she'd been thinking of.

It had the desired effect though. Lucas couldn't do a thing - he had quickly established himself as the champion of the common man, and the common man certainly couldn't tangle with a powerful witch. He would be committing the ultimate hypocrisy if he revealed his own demonic abilities now.

At the same time, they couldn't risk attacking him. Leaving it at a standstill was one thing, but provoking a response would most certainly end in the deaths of several villagers. It would have to be a draw.

Kagome turned and looked over her shoulder - not at him, but at Thomas Flynn. Sesshoumaru saw the apology in her eyes as the pink light began to fade, but she had the sense not to vocalize it. She could only hope for the best for him. "It's time to leave," she said instead.

Sesshoumaru stepped up behind Kagome as her purification powers receded, keeping a watchful eye on Lucas, who was edging closer as well.

"This is so unsatisfying," Lucas rumbled, smiling. "I look forward to meeting you again, girl."

Kagome trembled in his arms, lashing out as he lifted her off the ground. "We killed your two awful children, and we'll kill you, too!" she shouted down at him in Japanese.

Only a laugh answered them, and the miko drew back in cowed horror. "He doesn't care!" she whispered. "He's... he's..." She shook her head, seemingly unable to come up with anything that could properly encompass the shape-shifter's villainy.

Sesshoumaru frowned, glancing down at the gleeful shape-shifter. "A monster."

8888888888888888888888888888888

He stood on the hill above the seashore, trying to think - to breathe - again after the longest day he had had in years.

Lucas was the shape-shifter. The shape-shifter had infiltrated the Order. Indeed, he had helped shape the hateful organization. And although the other surviving immortal hadn't been there, Sesshoumaru would bet that she was involved as well.

The implications were enormous. What had the shape-shifters told the Order? Did the Order know that Lucas was, in fact, the very creature they hunted? Did the Order know about the curse and their immortality? Did they know that Kagome was human? A thousand questions swirled within the taiyoukai's head, but they all inevitably led to one conclusion - this was extremely dangerous situation. It had been enough to have two, powerful enemies. Combining them into one could be lethal, even to him and Kagome.

And the disaster wasn't confined to his battle against the shape-shifters. Mysteries began to solve within Sesshoumaru's mind - the failures of the Alliance over the past centuries began to lock with the reasons behind them.

"Damn fool," he growled, his hands curling in search of something to rip apart. It was so obvious now. Only another demon could have accurately identified so many of those that the Alliance had lost. Only another demon could teach humans to exploit their weaknesses with such deadly efficiency. And only one of the immortals could track him. He should have figured that out back in Moscow.

"Sesshoumaru."

Kagome was standing just a few feet behind him, frowning deeply and with fresh clothes in her hand. He didn't ask where she had bought them - probably the same hovel where she had left Rooney. He was sure she paid far too many of their precious coins to the family that could do nothing but watch the middleman die of internal injuries, but he didn't feel like asking about that either. He felt petulant and childish and a million other things that he didn't think he could feel at all anymore.

The miko, on the other hand, seemed chillingly calm, if not a little annoyed. He would have assumed she was the shape-shifter if she didn't exude such a powerful pulse of her recently used holy powers. "I told them that he was a vagrant we found in the streets. No one knows him in this county," she said, clearly trying to draw him into conversation.

He ignored the attempt and stripped off the coat and shirt that had been covered in Rooney's blood in exchange for the new ones. He threw the ruined ones into the sea and started to walk south along the shore.

Kagome followed, not appearing to mind the quiet or Sesshoumaru's punishing pace. The only time she spoke was to offer to carry their few possessions - their weapons, the grimoire and her notes, and her jewelry. He refused with a shake of his head, and they continued on until the moon set.

She veered off the path sharply when only the stars were left. "I can't see," she pointed out, not looking back. She wasn't going to accept arguments about it. "And you need rest."

Sesshoumaru nodded and climbed into a small dip in the green grass that was protected from the wind and into which Kagome had already settled. He set their belongings down and sat beside her, looking back towards the sea.

"So? Figure anything out?" she asked, cocking her head with a serious expression, although she couldn't have seen much more than the outline of his body. Despite the long walk, she seemed tense, hovering for his reply.

His mouth felt dry, and he could only shake his head in the negative again. It had all been the same, over the miles they traversed - variations on the theme of how tremendously he had erred by not realizing what the shape-shifters had been up to.

He heard her sigh and the rustle of her skirts. "Me neither," she said before her hands slid over his shoulders and her legs swung over to straddle his lap.

Sesshoumaru's palms immediately met her knees, ready to push her off of him. "What are you doing?" he rasped.

"Oh, you can speak," Kagome murmured. This close, he knew she could see his eyes. "I thought you'd been struck dumb."

"What are you doing?" he asked again, clearer this time.

"It's so silly," she said with a shrug. "I was thinking about it. What is sex really about?"

It was that word. The word that he avoided putting in the same sentence - in the same room - as Kagome for ages. It was so sudden that his mind refused to kick back into gear. "Procreation," he said after a moment, annoyed that he sounded breathless again.

She smiled. "Yeah, that would be your answer," she said. "But you're wrong. It's about comfort. Even for people who love each other, it's mostly about giving the other one some comfort that they're still there, although one day, they won't be."

"I have no need for comfort," he snapped, his hands tightening around the curve of her knees again.

"What if I do?" Kagome asked. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against him, and left a lingering kiss on his corner of his down-turned mouth. "Are you really that opposed to that?"

He grasped her arms and pushed her back a few, precious inches and tried to regain his senses. "I am too angry for your comfort," he growled. He couldn't meet her eyes as she continued to watch him. "I would not want to hurt you."

She ducked her head down, and he could see her face - serious but soft. She knew that he was thinking of Tortuga and what had happened to her there. "Are you angry with me?" she asked.

"What reason would I have for that?"

Kagome shook free of his loosening hold. "Then, it's not the same." She kissed him again on his brow. "I told you. This isn't about anger. It's about solace. It's so silly that we have this constant companion in each other and we haven't taken advantage of that. Don't you think?"

His fingers tightened around her arms again. "I do at the moment," he breathed but still holding her back.

She touched her lips to the only place she could reach - the tip of his nose. "And there was that moment this morning, before everything started," she murmured. He tried not to notice the flush of her cheeks or the way her skin was warming underneath his hands. "Don't lie, Sesshoumaru."

"We have been a bit busy since this morning. Has it only been in the last few hours that you considered this a solution to my silence?" he asked.

"It wasn't the first time I've considered any of this, no," Kagome said, leaning forward into his chest as his arms began to give way. She put her mouth next to his ear. "I'm hardly the innocent, little girl you met three centuries ago. You're not going to break me."

"I could," he said, trying to sound threatening and failing.

She shook her head, and her silky hair brushed against his throat. "You won't."

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd so carefully avoided any thoughts of Kagome in his bed, but he knew that this wasn't what he would have imagined, if he'd given himself the chance. She was seducing him - distracting him. It wasn't the way things were done. It wasn't the way he did things. But even if he could never say that he wanted her comfort, he wouldn't stop her from giving it.

His palms slid up her thighs, beneath her skirt, and he heard her sharp intake of breath, as if she hadn't believed that he would do anything but spurn her. When she kissed him, however, it was full of her confidence. He had to agree that she wasn't the doe-eyed, virgin miko of Edo any longer - she stripped them both with steady, experienced hands. He could hardly remember the last time he'd had a female in his bed - or anywhere else, for that matter - and Kagome's calm control was already threatening to overpower him.

With a swift twist of his body, Kagome was beneath him. She only had a moment to smile at him before he had her arching her back and letting out a silent cry. He wasn't gentle, but neither was she. They soon had complementary scratches - his on his shoulders from her dull, human nails, and hers on her hips from where his claws had pricked her.

Her body rebelled against his fierceness and his intrusion, and her skin began to spark against his. Even as she pressed herself closer to him, she murmured an apology.

"Don't," he said through clenched teeth as he buried his nose in the curve of her neck. Her purification power felt like a thousand needles piercing his flesh, but he wouldn't ask for anything different.

He had been blind - so blind to so many clues. Lucas might have contributed to the death of his own species, but it was his own oversight that had allowed it. And although he needed the comfort of the woman beneath him, he hardly deserved it. Guilt was such a rare feeling for him, but it ravaged him when it made an appearance. The last time he had been pinned down by such weighty sins, he had slaughtered an entire ship's crew.

"Sesshoumaru," Kagome whispered, breaking into his thoughts. He caught her gaze as her hands slid up the sides of his neck and her hips rose to meet his.

The taiyoukai sank down, his lips touching her cheek. Her scent surrounded him and, although her powers still stabbed at him, he managed to forget for several, precious minutes. Nothing was loving, and nothing was tender, except her few, breathy words. But after it was over and he had collapsed on the grass, he didn't feel as if the weight of the world was crushing him anymore. She must have expected and wanted just that - she gave him a small, knowing smile as his muscles relaxed.

And when dawn broke, he found that he had actually slept and that Kagome was stretched out beside him in only her chemise. She was leaning back on her elbows, watching the sky turn pink, but not touching a single strand of his fanned, silver hair.

"You remained awake?" he murmured.

Kagome shrugged. "You deserved the rest." She handed him his shirt and shook out the wrinkles from her dress. "Are we headed to Dublin?"

That wasn't the first question he expected from her. "We will have a choice of our next destination from there," he replied.

She saw him staring as she pulled on her clothing and smiled. "Is something wrong?"

"You are not asking about my feelings about yesterday," Sesshoumaru observed, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible, "or about last night."

"I know you better than that," she laughed. "Why? Did you want me to nag you about it?"

"No," he answered in a half-truth. The taiyoukai preferred clarity over the muddled emotions that frequently arose in these situations. He had very little concept of where he and Kagome stood now.

"Well, I'm not worried," the miko said with a shake of her head. "In fact, I think it might be even easier this way. We take out the two remaining shape-shifters, and the Order will probably fall on its own. And even if it doesn't, we have forever. They don't. We'll find them."

Sesshoumaru stood up and tugged his shirt over his head. "Your optimism is blissfully simple," he muttered.

"Your sarcasm is just making me more cheerful," she said, "because I know you're back to being yourself."

He studied her as she fussed with her hair and gathered their things. She still had that calm control that she had the previous night, although he wasn't sure if he still approved of it. He was glad there were no expectations on her part - no declarations or demands of love or anything as prosaic as that. At the same time, Sesshoumaru didn't care for the entirely disaffected way she carried herself - it wasn't Kagome, but an act. She was far too human to disassociate sex and feelings entirely. If he let it pass without comment, she would keep up the act forever.

"Ready?" she asked, once she had put on her shoes.

"Kagome."

"Hm?"

He tried not to clench his jaw. "Thank you," he muttered.

She gave him a bright smile that held no regret. "Anytime, Sesshoumaru," she said, before blushing slightly. "I mean, I'm here. As a friend, you know?"

Sesshoumaru nodded - the small glimmer of hope in her eyes had said far more than her words.