knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,

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Blanket fantasy

So there we were, caught out in an autumn storm,
The type that blows up, killer cold after warm,
And all Kagome was wearing was that stupid school uniform.
Just me and her - Miroku had gone off, that pervy monk
Cause after that last scene at the hot springs,Sango was looking to take a hunk
Out of his hide -- I warned him more than once, that stupid punk
And Shippou had agreed to track.

Keh! Stupid humans to trust a warm autumn day,
And to trust that cold weather would never come their way.
And then came the cold storm - what more can I say?
And there she was, soaking wet and cold and sad
In a small hillside cave, needing to get warm really bad
I needed some kindling to get a fire going - but all I had
Was her baka mathbook.

So I made a fire, and told her to change and get dry,
And I turned my back not to watch, but I heard her sigh.
"I gotta go get some firewood," after a moment said I.
I found a little dry wood, but it was mostly wet.
But on this nasty night, that was as good as it would get.
I was cold and I was tired, but I wasn't done yet --
It was time for some ramen.

The water was boiling when I got back. I was a bit amazed.
I expected her to be wrapped in a blanket, looking lost and dazed.
But there she was, smiling brightly, not the least bit fazed.
Whatever blanket fantasies I had went right up in smoke
She wore the blanket all right, round her shoulders like a cloak
Over sweatpants and sweater.  I thought I would choke
When she handed me the soup.

"You're soaking wet, InuYasha," she said, handing me a towel.
"Get out of those wet things."  I gave her a scowl.
"I won't peak," she smirked.  My youkai wanted to howl.
I came back towel wrapped and sat down by the fire
As she took my wet things to dry her scent spiked with desire
And she stole glances at me as if to inquire
If I were warm enough.

Rolling out her sleeping bag, she looked straight at me
As if to warn me or give me one last chance to flee.
"If you're cold, InuYasha, you can sleep here with me."
She said, as she blushed, turning a lovely pink.
Perhaps I wasn't the only one who happened to think
Of blanket fantasies , and quick as a blink,
I said, "Oi, woman, I'm really cold."
Tags: poem

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