InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Halloween Party, Late-Night Cup of Tea, and the Writing on the Wall ( Chapter 25 )

Kagome sighed at the sight of the Jack o' lanterns decorating the steps of the Brownstone Inn, determined to stave off her melancholy.

 

That day had been beautiful. She, Rin, and the dog had taken a mini-road trip an hour outside the city to visit a pumpkin patch, and the warmth of the Indian Summer sun on her skin felt like a kiss, a gift before the grey and cold of winter set in for long months. As Rin raced around the orange lumps in the field, making necessary comparisons to ensure the chosen pumpkin had the perfect size and shape, Kagome was overwhelmed by the loss of Inuyasha. They had always thought of Halloween as their holiday. The enjoyment had changed over the years—drugs and extreme alcohol consumption gave way to accommodate their maturity and Rin's arrival, but always constant were scary movies, costumes, and their unshakeable belief that no one else appreciated that time of year more than they did. She put on a happy face and joined Rin, trying to recapture the excitement that she and Inuyasha had reveled in, but without her best friend, her attempts just felt forced and foreign.

 

“Kagome,” Sesshoumaru said, “are you alright?” When he had stopped at the guest house that morning for a cup of coffee before heading to the office, she was bouncing around the kitchen, full of joyous energy and teasing with threatening hints about the costume she had been sewing for him. Now, on their way to the party she had looked forward to all week, she seemed like a different person.

 

“I'm fine…missing your brother.” She shrugged and adjusted the large garment bag slung over her shoulder. “My first Halloween without him. Just ignore me.”

 

“I'm not going to ignore you, Kagome. Let me take this heavy thing.” He took the bag, and they continued up the sidewalk, shuffling through scattered leaves. “I've always been curious about this bed and breakfast. It was recognized by the Chamber of Commerce last year as a top local, independent business, but I've never been inside.”

 

“It's gorgeous,” Kagome said, nodding. “Bank did a bang-up job with the renovation.”

 

“Have you known him long?” Sesshoumaru, though not one to purposely engage in small talk, thought it best to keep her engaged.

 

They walked up the steps, and Kagome knocked on the front door. “For years. We dated a long time ago.”

 

Before Sesshoumaru had time to ask for clarification, even before he had time to fully process what she had said, the door swung open to let them in.

 

“Happy Halloween!” Bank and Jak yelled. They ushered in the guests; hugs and handshakes ensued. The entry way was lit by dozens of candles set in gothic candelabra, making shadows of the spider webs that were draped over the banister and doorways to give the room a haunted, creepy atmosphere. They wandered into the living room and found more candles, more shadowy webs, and a huge vase full of dramatic dried hydrangea paniculata and twisting black twigs.

 

“The place looks great! Jak, you've worked your magic again,” Kagome said. “The moth-eaten curtains are a nice touch.”

 

“Always in good taste,” Bank said. “That's why I keep him around.”

 

“Let me guess,” Kagome said, studying Bank's outfit of khaki shorts, tool belt, hard hat, and tight white t-shirt. “Gay construction worker?”

 

“Pfft. Straight construction worker.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Kagome challenged. “Prove it. C'mere and gimme a big, wet kiss.”

 

“Oh why not? For old time's sake.” Bank growled predatorily, pulled Kagome into his arms, and dipped her low, both wearing intense expressions. Bank lowered his face to hers, much to the consternation of Sesshoumaru and the abject horror of Jak.

 

“For the love of god! STOP!” Jak screamed. “You can't kiss a girl like that. It's disgusting.”

 

“Shit, Jak,” Kagome scoffed. “I don't have cooties. You're such a misogynist.”

 

“I am not a misogynist. Just a wee bit squeamish about seeing my boyfriend lock lips with…” he shuddered, unable to continue.

 

Kagome laughed as Bank straightened her back up. “You don't think it's fun and kinky?”

 

“I don't even want to talk about it,” Jak said flatly. “Now show me my costume.”

 

“Ooo you're going to love it.” She took the garment bag, unzipped it, and pulled out a short skirt and cape of coarse-spun dull fabric and chest armor and over-skirt made of metal-studded black leather. “Gladiator.” Jak's expression was that of a kid on Christmas morning. Kagome smiled with satisfaction, waiting for his gushing enthusiasm to peak and level off. “There's a belt with a sword, but I didn't bother with the shield. You do have some kind of leather sandals, don't you?”

 

Jak held the costume up, barely keeping his mania in check. “Girl…it's perfect. Where the hell did you find this?”

 

“A few years ago the university theater department had an auction to get rid of some old costumes and props they thought they'd never use again. It was like a gold mine.”

 

They were interrupted by Miroku and Sango entering the room. Greetings and wishes of a Happy Halloween were exchanged, followed by Miroku staring with longing at the skimpy leather contraption in Jak's arms.

 

“I wanna be that…whatever it is. Interested in trading costumes?”

 

Sango made a conscious decision not to be annoyed. She and Miroku had done a joint costume for every Halloween since they had begun dating, but seeing him dressed in leather would more than make up for breaking with tradition.

 

Jak looked suspiciously at the normally attired couple in front of him. “You're not dressed up yet. What are you going to be?”

 

“Jack and Meg White.”

 

An uneven trade. “Mine.” He hugged the gladiator outfit tightly. “No offense, Sango,” he added, then turned toward Kagome and Sesshoumaru. “What are you two going to be?”

 

“It's a surprise,” Kagome blurted. She had been tormenting Sesshoumaru all week with lies about the costume she was designing, from the ludicrous—shower drain, consisting of a shirt covered with soap slivers, hair clumps, and shaving cream—to the almost believable and therefore far more frightening—drag queen. “Sango, let's go up and I'll help you change. Do I get the bridal suite?” she asked hopefully.

 

“Sorry, babe,” Bank answered. “Kouga already claimed it.”

 

“What! He's not even here.”

 

“He's paying full rate for it.” Though generous, Bank was hardly an altruist. He was a common-sense businessman and not about to refuse good money. “You're in the blue room.”

 

Kagome grinned; the blue room had the second largest bathroom. She took Sango's hand and led her toward the staircase. “Come with me, darling. You two,” she said to Miroku and Sesshoumaru, “come up in fifteen minutes.”

 

“Oh girls,” Jak called, stopping them, “I made that red wine sangria you like. It's in the fridge. And…” he paused for dramatic effect, “I've got The Host on DVD to watch later.”

 

“Korean monster movies for the win! You guys are the best!” Kagome's mood improved dramatically; she didn't miss Inuyasha any less, but her friends were a balm that helped fill the hollow.

 

Sesshoumaru watched the women detour toward what he assumed to be the direction of the kitchen, relieved to see that Kagome's sadness appeared to have lifted.

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome crouched in front of Sango and carefully scissored her bangs so they were perfectly straight across. “Done.”

 

Sango stood and studied her figure in the mirror. She was wearing a sleeveless red micro-dress, white tights, and white platforms shoes. She hadn't been too happy about the inclusion of the tights, but Kagome insisted, saying her tanned legs would spoil the look she was trying to achieve. “Fits like skin. This was a great idea.”

 

“I was inspired listening to The White Stripes while running the other day. God, Sango, your legs are amazing.” She took a sip of the cool, fruity wine. “Hey, I just noticed. You're drinking. Alcohol.”

 

Sango picked up her glass, and they toasted each other. “I got my period this afternoon, so I figured it's safe to drink a little tonight.” She smiled sadly. “We only ditched the condoms a few weeks ago, but…I don't know, Kagome.” She wiped at tears which seemed to spring from nowhere. “I don't know what's wrong with me. It's illogical to get this upset.”

Kagome wrapped her arms around her friend. “Honey, there's nothing wrong with you. And shit, you're not a Vulcan. If you are upset, there's a reason.”

 

“I know.” She buried her face in Kagome's shoulder, grateful to be in the company of someone who would let her emote and not judge. “Miroku laughed it off, joking we'll just have to try harder. Wink, nudge. He meant well, but I really just need to talk about the disappointment.”

 

“I'm listening.”

 

Sango sighed. “I don't want to become one of those couples who haven't conceived in six months or a year or two. I don't want sex to become a means to an end. I don't want every month to find bloody sheets or underwear and feel like I've miscarried. Miroku wants kids so badly.” She sniffed, face still hidden. “I'm afraid of disappointing him.”

 

“Sango…” Kagome stroked her straight, black hair. “You've always been a goal-oriented person, and this is something you don't have a whole lot of active control over. We can choose things to help us not become pregnant, but when we want to, we just have to let it happen. Trust your body. And trust your husband. Miroku loves you, with or without kids.” Kagome pushed Sango up and kissed her cheek. “Now, no more talking about disappointment. You've been off the pill for two months and using condoms for one of those. I'll cry with you if you aren't pregnant come spring, but for now, I command you to be happy.”

 

“You're right,” she said, a smile coaxed out. “And I know all that. I think I just needed to say it out loud. Give voice to my irrational fears.”

 

Kagome nodded. “Trust me, no one is more aware that fears left unspoken only become more scary.”

 

Sango kissed her cheek and rubbed off the red lipstick mark. “You would make a good therapist.”

 

“Nah.” Kagome blushed brighter than the cosmetic smudge; it felt good to have Sango compliment her advice. “I think I'll stick to my silly column and being a friend. Therapists can't say things like, Quitcherbitchin. Get drunk with me.”

 

While Kagome laid Miroku's clothes out, Sango said as casually as she could manage, “Sooo…is Sesshoumaru spending the night too?”

 

Kagome shot a scathing glance over her shoulder. “Yes. And don't start. I mean it.”

 

“Extra defensive tonight?”

 

“We had a fight after the show last week,” Kagome said. Her voice was quiet and self-conscious.

 

Sango waited to see if she would change the subject; she knew Kagome would continue if she wanted. “What happened?”

 

“He was being an over-protective jerk.” Kagome squirmed under the weight of Sango's patient, silent stare. “I was flirting with some guy, and Sesshoumaru went all cave man on me.”

 

Sango raised a single brow and simply said, “Some guy?”

 

“Kagura's brother, Naraku.”

 

Her other brow met the first. “That guy who sabotaged you finding an apartment this spring.”

 

“Well,” Kagome said, glowering, “he's fucking hot and…I saw Sesshoumaru with Kagura. They looked like they were messing around in the dark, and it made me feel all naughty and reckless.”

 

“So Sesshoumaru saw you and—”

 

“And,” Kagome interrupted, “we had an argument. Very short. No hard feelings.”

 

“Too bad it didn't end up with make-up sex.” Sango easily caught the pillow that came sailing toward her head, but was unprepared for the furious barrage that followed.

 

“That is it!” The uncharacteristic razor-sharp edge to her voice had a life of its own. “I've fucking had enough. First you keep pestering me, and now Jak is implying that he's got something cooked up to get us in bed tonight. I swear if you two do anything to embarrass Sesshoumaru, I'm not speaking to either of you again. Sango, I love you. But if you don't knock it off…” She flopped down on the bed, unsure if she wanted to continue with the threat that was on the tip of her tongue. She heaved a sigh; fighting didn't interest her. “Confession time? My reaction to thinking he was with Kagura confused the hell out of me. And I've been too much of a weak-kneed scaredy cat to analyze why. You and Jak aren't helping. It just makes me want to pull away more.”

 

Sango sat next to her. The last thing she wanted was Kagome to be even more stubbornly insistent that there wasn't a spark between her and Sesshoumaru. “Kagome, I'm sorry. It's just…I know he likes you. We only want you to be happy.”

 

Kagome rested her head on Sango's shoulder, all forgiven. “When I decide to awaken my hibernating sex life, I'll probably be a basket case. If someday there is something between me and Sesshoumaru, I want it to be because it happens naturally, not because my friends are meddling idiots. I won't need to add to the inevitable self-doubt.”

 

“Understood.” Sango hugged Kagome and handed her the near-empty glass. “We meant no harm, honey. You've just helped so many of us idiots with our untidy romantic lives, I merely sought to return the favor.”

 

Kagome attempted a smile. “You want to help me?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Kagome stood and stretched. “All the sitting I've done the past six weeks has resulted in a flare-up of my sciatica. Can you try to rub some of the angst from my spasming piriformis muscle? My massage therapist was booked all week, and exercise helps, but only so much.”

 

“Sure. Show me what to do.”

 

XxXxX

 

Kouga and Ayame arrived, as did several other friends; greetings and introductions were made; Jak excused himself to put out the food. The men downstairs had exhausted the usual topics of conversation—local politics and business and, of course, sports. Sesshoumaru briefed them on the status of the arena, now mythic in the imaginations of the city's sports fans. Shop talk finished, Sesshoumaru and Miroku went to reunite with Kagome and Sango.

 

As they walked up the stairs to join the women, Miroku thought about the Taisho brothers. Though their distinct looks unmistakably marked them as brothers, they seemed different as night and day. Sesshoumaru was reserved and contemplative as he took everything in, his responsibility and power such an integral part of his personality that it was obvious to all who spent three seconds in the same the room with him that he commanded respect without the need to justify it. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was loud and brash, but those close to him knew not only was he deeply sensitive and caring, he was no less responsible. In the younger brother though, responsibility was like a hidden brand on the skin, still part of his fundamental nature, but something he only showed to the people who mattered. Both men were intensely private and difficult to get to know well. Both were intelligent and honorable. Miroku suspected the brothers would have been great friends eventually if given the chance.

 

Upon nearing the room, they heard the distinct sounds of Kagome moaning, low, inarticulate sighs of pleasure, mingled with high-pitched whimpers of pain. “Ooooohh Sango, yesss like that.” The door was significantly ajar. “God Sango, it's so gooood. Aaaahh. Please…nooooohhh…don't stop.” They paused and looked at each other with twin expressions of incomprehension. “Can you get even deeper? Oooh yeah. Fuuuuck yeah.” They stopped and waited, both content to simply bask in the serendipitous audio voyeurism.

 

Sango said, “I'm worried I'll hurt you.”

 

Kagome said, “Impossible. I neeeed the tension off that nerve.” More moans, more pitiful noises that skirted the borders of agony and bliss.

 

“My hand is getting tired, Kagome.”

 

“Use your elbow.”

 

Elbow? Miroku had heard enough. “This I've got to see.” He pushed the door open and entered, followed close behind by Sesshoumaru. Both women were fully clothed, Kagome stretched out on the bed face down and Sango massaging her left gluteal muscle. The scene, though not expected, was a reasonable one; they were nonetheless mildly disappointed by the lack of fantasy fulfillment.

 

Sango saw them first, but she didn't know they had been on the other side of the door for several minutes, minds gleefully residing in the gutter. “Hey!” she said, getting up. “What do you think of the dress?”

 

Kagome rose and recognized their transparent faux-innocence immediately. “You perverts.”

 

“The dress is sexy,” Miroku said, skillfully avoiding the accusation of debauchery, “but only because you're wearing it.” He kissed his wife on the mouth, sneaking in an affectionate ass squeeze. “What about me?” he asked Kagome.

 

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the red pants and white t-shirt lying on the bed. Miroku went into the bathroom to change and reappeared a minute later.

 

Kagome messed up his hair, adding liberal amounts of hairspray, and put a black leather collar around his neck, then led him to stand next to Sango. “Perfect.” She pulled a CD out of her purse and showed Sesshoumaru. It pictured a dark-haired couple dressed in red and white, posing in front of a red background, with the words The White Stripes at the top. “Their first album.”

 

“Uncanny,” was his verdict.

 

After Miroku and Sango left with giggles and whispers about finding an empty room, Kagome turned her attention to Sesshoumaru, who was waiting and watching her. Her heart began to pound, and her face flushed red and hot. She had made Halloween outfits for her friends for years, but unveiling the costume she had designed and sewn just for him suddenly took on great personal significance. He had agreed to dress up for the party, something he wasn't inclined to do, and she was seized with dread that he wouldn't approve. It left her feeling like a shy, vulnerable child.

 

Sesshoumaru frowned. Though no longer so somber, she was still acting oddly. Different from her usual blushing, charming awkwardness, she almost seemed uncomfortable around him. He didn't like it.

 

“Ready?” she asked.

 

“As I'll ever be.”

 

His voice was friendly, and Kagome tried to relax. She carefully pulled a large mass of white fabric from the garment bag. “I thought long and hard about what you should be,” Kagome said. “I kinda knew I wanted to do something mythical, otherworldly, but had a helluva time pinpointing what. I thought about different heroic legends and the research I'd done on Japanese mythology concerning Amaterasu and Susanoo, and the perfect idea struck me. Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto.”

 

A smile flickered. “The Shinto god of the moon?”

 

Kagome nodded. “He's not as well known as his siblings, so there aren't nearly as many artistic representations. At first I was bummed out, then I realized it was a blessing. I had near total artistic freedom.” She laid a pile of silk in his arms. “I chose white because it seemed…celestial, lunar.” The silk flowed like liquid as he held it up to see. The long robe was the white of pearl, with geometric detail in blood red embroidery at the bottom and sleeve hems and across the left shoulder. Closer inspection showed flower shapes nestled within hexagons. “The red, I'll admit was because that's what I had loaded in my embroidery machine and I was too lazy to change it out, but I do like how the vibrancy contrasts with the starkness of the white. The beehive design is a download that I've had my eye on for a while.” Explanation finished, she held her breath, praying he wouldn't reject it.

 

“Your work is lovely, Kagome,” he said.

 

“So you'll wear it? Willingly?” she asked, still feeling insecure. His face was impassive, and she wished she could read his mind.

 

He nodded. “I consider myself lucky. Tsukuyomi is preferable to…what was the thing you said this morning? Pillsbury Dough Boy?”

 

Kagome's laugh was tinged with guilt. “I hope you know all that was joking. I may like to tease, but I'd never do anything to humiliate you.” They locked eyes for an instant before she turned abruptly. She gave him two more pieces, a white article of clothing and a long yellow sash with purple trim. “Here's a juban to wear underneath. It's just made of cotton jersey. Should be pretty comfortable. And this length of silk can you can tie around your waist.”

 

Sesshoumaru was glad she was beginning to regain her normal easy manner, but couldn't resist baiting her. “Where's the fundoshi?”

 

Kagome was shocked into silence, never dreaming that Sesshoumaru would say such a thing. “Uhhh….” The idea of handing him fabric for a loincloth had her breaking out in a cold sweat. She could hear Inuyasha's uproarious, side-splitting laughter in her head. Then she saw a gleam of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You creep,” she said with a wide smile. “Find your own damn underwear.” She herded him into the bathroom with playful shoves, successfully keeping her hand from swatting his ass and her mind from imagining said ass sporting a tightly twisted fundoshi.

 

In the few minutes he spent in the bathroom changing, she tried to breathe deeply and center, telling herself that the flirty note in his voice was her imagination. She was not yet ready to explore the idea of the two of them together, and it would not do to have him the one making inappropriate sexual innuendos. “That's my job, goddamn it,” she said aloud. Still, she was grateful that his comment had snapped her out of anxiety mode.

 

When the door opened and he came out, her breath caught in her throat. She had always been confident of her instincts for colors and textures, but Sesshoumaru, standing tall next to her, so effortlessly filling the space, surprised even her sense of artistic vanity.

 

He did indeed look like a god. The silk clung to his frame in a way that accentuated the broadness of his chest and shoulders and the implied, understood strength in his arms. The color was perfect, complementing both his long hair and clear, flawless skin. Few people could pull off wearing so much of the same tone without becoming lost, and on him the effect was ethereal.

 

“You look really good. Come sit and I'll do something with your hair.”

 

“I hope you don't plan on using that vile-smelling spray.”

 

“No. You're safe.” Kagome knelt behind him on the sofa and began to brush his hair. She smiled to herself as he immediately relaxed against her and closed his eyes. “So, you're a head slut just like your brother.”

 

His mouth twitched, but he didn't open his eyes and said nothing. The brushing and her nearness were paradise, and he wouldn't risk ending either prematurely.

 

Kagome had always loved to touch things, exploring textures and surfaces, sometimes resorting to surreptitious stroking if the situation necessitated it. And now she had permission. Her hands caressed his smooth, glossy hair, working it through her fingers as she braided and added mother-of-pearl beads to catch the light. She could have stayed there next to him for hours, their bodies simply touching, but there was a party to attend and she hadn't even begun to get dressed. When she finally declared his hair finished, she had a feeling that he was as disappointed as she that it was over.

 

“Make-up?” she asked sweetly.

 

“Must you?”

 

“Don't you trust me?”

 

He stared at her a moment. Trust was something he gave to a select few people who had consistently exhibited discretion, loyalty, and good judgment, thereby earning his high opinion. He doubted there was currently anyone he considered more a friend and safer to trust than her. “You said earlier that you wouldn't embarrass me.”

 

“Never. Okay…nothing that you couldn't easily laugh away,” she said with a wink. “Besides, you should realize by now my ego won't let me ruin the art project that your costume has turned into.” She fetched a cosmetics bag from her purse and contemplated the next step. “I think I'll take a page from Rin's playbook.” She selected a magenta eye pencil and sharpened it. “Close your eyes. Won't hurt a bit. I promise.”

 

He complied and remembered Rin's session of Beauty Parlor, wondering rakishly if Kagome would consent to sit in his lap like their niece had. “You mentioned earlier that you dated Bank.”

 

“Yeah. This was ages ago, before all the badness. We had dinner a few times, and I had a giant crush on him.” Using delicate motions, she covered his eyelid with color. “It's not like he gives off a huge gay vibe. Finally after a movie one night I got him to make out with me. Close your eyes,” she chastened. She finished and moved on to the side of his face.

 

Sesshoumaru watched her as she drew on his cheek. She chewed on her lip to concentrate, stopping occasionally to adjust the line with little dabs of a Q-Tip. She was so close he could see the pulse fluttering in her neck and flecks of light brown in her irises. She was so close it would only take the smallest movement to bring her closer. But he dared not; anything he started would be quickly ended. She had friends waiting for her downstairs.

 

“He was an amazing kisser, but I could tell he had absolutely no interest in being with me. So I said, `You're gay, aren't you.' He apologized for using me as window dressing, that he was afraid of not getting clients if he came out of the closet.” She paused, examining the lines to accurately duplicate them on his other cheekbone. “We stopped the pretense and ended up becoming really good friends. Then a few years ago Inuyasha went with me to the Back Door, and who should hit on him but Jak. I introduced Bank and Jak, thinking they would hit it off, and of course I was right. After much hand wringing and late-night talks with yours truly, Bank decided to come out. And they lived happily ever after. Jak is a natural for helping run the Inn, and luckily Bank's estate-planning practice didn't suffer.” She got out a blue pencil and traced a crescent moon on his forehead.

 

Finished, she sat back to appraise her handy-work, but instead two things became apparent. The first was his striking, haunting features. She had always thought him one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever met, but the colors on his face—the amber gift of genetics and the garnet and sapphire she added—highlighted his bone structure and symmetry to perfection. He was breathtaking. Her admiration as an aesthete was a given; her reaction as a woman made her a puddle of goo. Her second realization, which made the first more Earth-shattering, was that they were, at most, twelve inches apart and only moments before had been much closer. “You look really good.” Her voice was hoarse and shaky. She fumbled for a mirror and held it up so he could see.

 

He didn't take his eyes from her. “You said that earlier.”

 

“I should get ready.”

 

He raised a hand to her face and traced the line of her jaw. “Should you?”

 

“I…I should.” She got up and ran to the garment bag. “I'll need twenty minutes. Go claim the room next door before someone else does.”

 

Only a matter of time and circumstance, he assured himself. “I've got a few phone calls to make. Come get me when you're ready.”

 

“Okay. And don't smear your face!”

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome made her grand entrance into the ballroom where the party was now in full swing expecting to be congratulated on her creativity and sense of humor. Instead she was faced with confusion and blank expressions. “Come on. You really can't guess what I am?”

 

She was wearing a black sequin-covered top and matching mini skirt, iridescent tights, and shiny patent leather heels. Every inch of skin, including her face, was covered in body glitter. Her hair was sprayed with glitter. She even had on jeweled false eyelashes.

 

“A disco ball?” Bank guessed.

 

Kagome stuck out her tongue at him. “No, not a disco ball.”

 

“Ooo I know,” Jak said. “You're a glow-in-the-dark hooker.”

 

Kagome shook her head. “No!” Her exasperation was increasing. “See. I've got fangs. Fangs.”

 

Still nothing.

 

Sesshoumaru entered the room and handed her a drink. “I didn't know either,” he said to no one in particular.

 

“I'm a Sparkly Vampire.” She waited for the strands of pop culture DNA to connect. Her friends may not peruse the Young Adult section of the bookstore, but they paid at least moderate attention to the media. “You know,” she prompted, “from Twilight? Get it?”

 

Sango, who got it, snorted. “I wish Inuyasha was here.”

 

The others were clueless, much to Kagome's annoyance.

 

“What's a Sparkly Vampire?” Miroku asked.

 

“Come on,” Kagome said in disbelief. “You must have heard of Twilight.”

 

“I've heard of it, but since I'm neither a fifteen year old girl nor the mother of a fifteen year old girl, I don't know any particulars. You'll need to explain.”

 

Kagome sighed. “The vampires in Twilight sparkle.”

 

“But vampires don't sparkle,” Bank said.

 

“These vampires sparkle,” Sango said with a wicked grin. “In the sun.”

 

“Vampires are supposed to die in the sun,” Bank and Miroku said simultaneously.

 

“I know that,” Kagome said. “Oh never mind.” Her shoulders slumped. “I've never had Costume Fail like this. Are you guys living in a cave? And what happened to your sense of irony?” Kagome's past obsession with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and other more conventional and less sparkly vampires was well known.

 

Jak inspected the floor around her. “Ugh. Kagome, you're shedding glitter everywhere.”

 

She glanced down. “Oh sorry. I'll help you vacuum tomorrow.”

 

He wasn't convinced. “Alright, but you're not allowed to sit on any of the antique furniture.” She deflated even more. He gave her a hug, taking care not to get glitter on himself. “Stop pouting. I think you look cute. And the fangs are awesome. They don't look like the usual fake teeth.”

Kagome smiled, showing off her elongated canines. Finally she was getting some props. “Friendly plastic. It holds its shape really well.”

 

Kouga and Ayame, dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit and skimpy police uniform respectively, joined them. “Hey! Happy Halloween.”

 

“Damn,” Kagome purred, “you two rock. I hope those outfits came with some handcuffs.”

 

“No,” Ayame said, “but we can improvise.”

 

“I hate to change the subject.” Bank said. “Kouga, Miroku and I are planning on sharing a hotel room for the state bar association convention in February. Are you interested? I'm speaking at a CLE and can get a double room for single room price if I choose. I need to finalize reservations soon.”

 

“Sounds great. I'll tell my secretary to call you.”

 

Jak stared, open-mouthed. “I wanna go! Three hot men in a hotel room? You have to take me with.”

 

Bank patted his boyfriend's gladiator ass gently. “Sorry, you need to stay here. The Inn is already half booked.”

 

“But…but…”

 

Kagome patted the other butt cheek. “It's okay. We'll have a left-behind party when they're gone.”

 

Sango snickered. Kouga, Bank, and Miroku were standing next to each other, and she couldn't resist. “So we have a Corporate Lawyer, an Estate Planner, and a General Litigator…otherwise known as Tool for Big Business, Tax Cheat Enabler, and Ambulance Chaser. Insert lawyer joke here.”

 

“For the record,” Miroku said, “personal injury work is a very small part of my caseload.” He waited, resigned for the inevitable mocking.

 

Kagome stepped up to the plate. “What do you call a sober, courteous person at a bar association convention?”

 

“Imaginary?” Sango guessed.

 

“The caterer.”

 

“How many personal injury attorneys does it take to change a light bulb?” Sango said. “Three. One to screw in the bulb, one to shake him off the ladder, and one to sue the ladder company.”

 

Kagome laughed; she hadn't heard that version of the standard light bulb joke. “How can you tell when a lawyer is lying?”

 

Sango knew this one. “His lips are moving. What's the difference between God and a lawyer?”

 

“God doesn't think he's a lawyer.” Kagome had heard it before, but with back surgeon as the target of derision. “How do you get a group of lawyers to smile for a picture?”

 

“How?” Sango asked. This was a new one for her.

 

“Just say Fees.”

 

“Very funny,” Miroku said. “Are you two finished?”

 

“One more,” Kagome said. “A lawyer was lying on the beach in the Caribbean. He wanted to start a conversation with the man next to him so he said, `I'm here because my house burned down and everything I owned was destroyed. The insurance company paid for all of it, and I decided to take a vacation.' `What a coincidence,' the other man said. `I'm here because all I owned was destroyed by a flood, and my insurance also paid for everything.' The lawyer considered this for a moment, and then, looking somewhat confused, asked, `How do you start a flood?'”

 

“Ha, ha,” Bank said, clearly not amused. “Everyone hates attorneys until they need one.”

 

“You know we love you,” Kagome said. “I'm going to the kitchen. Anyone need a drink?”

 

Kagome went to refill her beverage and saw Kanna. She was wearing the green schoolgirl outfit that Kagome had worn the year before. “Hey hon! You look great!”

 

“Kagome! I'd hug you, but I'm not interested in getting glitter all over me.” The two air-kissed. “What are you anyway?”

 

Kagome scowled. “I'm an example of why you shouldn't reference pop culture that hasn't been turned into a movie or video game yet.” She glanced around. “Did you come with dreamy Doctor Aaron,” she asked under her breath.

 

Kanna giggled—a high-pitched, vacuous sound to mimic a stereotypical girl, sure to keep her in character. “He's meeting me here soon.” She poured a drink and became more serious. “I don't know, Kagome. I work with doctors and their egos. He's cute and nice, but I don't know if I want to date one.”

 

“Kanna,” Kagome said, “he's a dermatologist. He pops zits for a living. How big can his ego possibly be? And I assure you, his bedside manner is quite pleasant.”

 

Kanna craned her neck to see the foyer. “I think he's here. Catch you later!”

 

Sesshoumaru appeared next to Kagome. “Actually Aaron is a specialist in Mohs surgery, treating skin cancer.” He smirked with amusement as she blushed from embarrassment.

 

“That totally sounded patronizing, didn't it? Don't tell him I said that.”

 

“Of course not. You're quite the little matchmaker, aren't you?”

 

She recovered from her faux pas and laughed. “It's a fun way to stick my nose where it doesn't belong.” She took his arm. “Let's go mingle.”

 

XxXxX

 

The party went on for hours, breaking up past midnight, leaving only the core group of good friends gathered around the big screen television to watch The Host. When it was over, Kagome—emotional due to slight inebriation, the late hour, and the end of the movie—became weepy.

 

“Inuyasha would have loved it,” she said after blowing her nose. “I miss them so much…” She started to choke up again.

 

Miroku, who was seated nearby, reached out and squeezed her hand. “We all miss them,” he said. “They would be happy to know we are together tonight thinking of them.”

 

“You're right,” Kagome said. “They would be.” She looked at Sesshoumaru, sitting next to her, and tried on a brave smile. She was certain that somewhere Inuyasha was watching, glad that she and his brother were part of each other's lives and raising his daughter.

 

“You asked me to make a video for Rin of clips of her parents,” Bank said. “I made a non-Rin-safe one for you too. Over the years I captured some classic Inuyasha moments on camera. There won't ever be anyone like him. Do you want me to get it?”

 

Kagome shook her head. “Nah. I think I'll save it for a rainy day. I'm okay. Just being with you guys helps.”

 

“Remind me before you leave to give the discs to you.” Bank stood to refresh his drink. “If anyone else wants a copy, let me know.”

 

“Speaking of videos,” Sango said, “are we ever going to get the film society up and running again? The university is going to show Lust, Caution next month.”

 

“They are?” Kagome squealed. “I thought I'd have to wait for it to be released on DVD.” She turned to Sesshoumaru. “At the risk of exposing even more of my nerdiness, I'll explain. Several years ago, Kikyou and I went on a foreign film bender and, because he is so incredibly sexy and talented, started the We Love Tony Leung Society. Part movie watching, part drinking game, all fangirl nonsense. At first it was just me, Sango, my sister, and a couple of her social worker friends, then eventually everyone started showing up.”

 

“I think you mentioned something about this once,” he said. So she likes Asian cinema, he thought, and reflected for a moment about how his initial judgment of her, that of an unrefined, vapid party-girl, was so far off the mark. He wondered, had he known of her intelligence and varied interests, if he would have accepted Inuyasha's offers to set them up on a date. And if he had, would they have even gotten along? He speculated that they probably wouldn't be able to stand each other.

 

“We'd meet monthly, took turns hosting, had different themes. Kinda fell apart after the events of this spring.”

 

Bank sat back down. “Well, I think getting a group together for Lust, Caution is the perfect opportunity to restart it.”

 

“We can go out for dinner first,” Jak said. “We can go to Itadakimasu for sushi.”

 

“We always go there,” Kagome said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let's go to Maido instead. Their Daughter of the Dragon roll is the spiciest thing I've ever eaten, and I'm craving it.”

 

“Nooo,” Jak whined. “Kagome, not everyone likes it when their food hurts them. We aren't all endorphin junkies. Were you aware,” he said to Sesshoumaru, “that the woman sitting next to you used to carry a bottle of Tabasco around—”

 

Kagome rushed over and covered Jak's mouth. “Shut up,” she laughed. “Don't bust me! My hot sauce addiction was short-lived.” They tussled briefly, resulting in Jak's mortified realization that he was now covered in glitter. Kagome returned to her seat, not bothering to hide her shit-eating grin. “The only reason you want to go to Itadakimasu is because you think the waiters are hot.”

 

“Your point? Wait staff hotness factor is a perfectly rational criterion when choosing a restaurant. It's almost as important as the quality of the wine list and lack of tacky decor. And don't be so bossy, Kagome. I think we should vote.”

 

“The We Love Tony Leung Society is a dictatorship, not a democracy,” she growled. “Think of me as your overlord.”

 

“Alright you two,” Bank said, yawning. “Enough bickering. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm ready for bed.”

 

The hosts and remaining guests made farewells and left one by one, some going up to their rooms, some going home. Kagome hung back with Sesshoumaru.

 

“My buzz has made me too hyper to sleep. Would you like to stay up a little longer and have a cup of tea with me?”

 

“I'd like that very much.”

 

As they walked to the kitchen, Sesshoumaru abandoned the last shred of his urge to seduce her that night. He had no intention of taking advantage of a drunk woman, and though Kagome was only a bit tipsy, he didn't want her to wake the next morning full of regrets and excuses. He wanted her to respond to him with her wits intact, to make a conscious choice to be with him. He needed to know that alcohol wasn't clouding her judgment. And he needed their first time together to be the first of many, not the only. She had become more than a flirtation and potential fling, and never before had he felt there was so much at stake in his pursuit of a woman. Waiting for the right opportunity was worth the frustration. At his core, he was calculating and patient.

 

Kagome put water on the stove and got out cups and tea bags. “Your mother wants to come over and discuss Rin's birthday party tomorrow. She's talking about pony rides in the backyard.”

 

Sesshoumaru laughed. The seldom-heard sound surprised him and made Kagome grin like a madwoman. His mother was finally living her dream of doting grandmother, successfully transferring her equine obsession to the next generation. “I hope you didn't have something else in mind. Nothing would make my mother happier than to indulge Rin on her birthday. The riding lessons so far have gone over well. And we have several years to make up.”

 

“As long as I can bake the cake,” Kagome said. She knew her place. She was not about to stand in the way of Rin's blooming relationship with her only living grandparents. “I just hope the weather is as nice as it was today. And I can't wait to see Oberon's reaction to a horse.”

 

“Now that you mention the dog, did you know that my father is allowing him to sleep in Rin's room tonight?”

 

“Yeah, I was there when she asked him if he could. It was that or someone going over to let him out first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

“Do you realize what that means?” She obviously didn't.

 

Kagome narrowed her eyes. “I know your dad is kind of fussy…”

 

Fussy didn't even cover it. “Hn. He doesn't like animals. At all. When we were kids, Inuyasha and I used to beg him constantly for a pet. A dog would have been ideal, but I think we would have settled for fish. Every birthday, Christmas…it was a never-ending refrain that lasted for years and fell on deaf ears. For him to allow your beast in our house must mean something…I'm just not entirely sure what.”

 

“I must have wakened some latent love of dogs in him.” The way he was conversing with her gave Kagome warm fuzzies. He was actually starting to open up to her. Must be the liquor, she thought. “I like it when you talk about your childhood. You need to do it more often.”

 

The kettle on the stove started to whistle. Kagome poured the water and handed him a steaming cup. “Have you been busy at work? You went to the office on probably the most beautiful day of the year.”

 

“Very busy. You wouldn't be interested.”

 

“Try me. You're always so quiet. I like talking to you.”

 

He studied her a minute, trying to decide if she did care or was simply flattering him. “The arena is a perpetual thorn in the side. Lately though I've been busy with a new hotel. The construction is almost finished, and so this week was spent setting up a new division to run it. The grand opening will be in February.”

 

“Is it that building on Sixth, the one a couple blocks from your office? I read in the paper that it will be the greenest hotel in the country.”

 

He nodded. “We've employed a lot of new technology in energy efficiency. And the living roof was designed by an award-winning landscape architect. Sometimes I think if I never hear the word sustainability again, I'll be happy, but it is worth it in the end. The publicity has been overwhelmingly positive, and this is the future not only of architecture, but also urban design.”

 

Kagome regarded him through lowered lashes and sipped her tea. “When we first met, I thought you were an uptight, workaholic businessman whose only concern was the bottom line and profit margins. I couldn't have been more wrong.”

 

He smiled softly. Her first impression was relatively accurate. “And I thought you were the female version of my brother. Lazy, careless, without ambition. I know now that I misjudged you both.”

 

They were silent as they drank their tea and contemplated their friendship, which had become a vital, important one, despite their differences.

 

“I hope you had an okay time tonight. I know my friends and I can be hard for outsiders to take at times.”

 

“I like your friends. Bank and Jak were excellent hosts.”

 

“Thank you. For coming with. And letting me dress you up. I know this wasn't exactly your ideal way to spend an evening.”

 

“I'm glad I came. Perhaps I needed to broaden my definition of fun.”

 

Cups empty, Kagome said, “Thanks for staying up and talking. I'm used to late nights, but this is probably past your bedtime.”

 

They left the kitchen and climbed the stairs toward their rooms. Sesshoumaru let his hand linger at her lower back—a subtle promise of things to come. She didn't shy away.

 

They reached their destination, two separate doors next to each other.

 

“Will you like to come over tomorrow afternoon? Rin and I are going to carve pumpkins.”

 

“I'll warn you, I have limited experience. Halloween, until this year, had always been a non-holiday for me.”

 

“No experience necessary.”

 

“I'll come over after Kendo practice.” They stood in the corridor, neither making a move to go inside. “Kagome, you said once you would have dinner with me.”

 

Her heart sped up. Just dinner, but there was no mistaking—it was a date. Calm down, she told herself. It was Sesshoumaru, someone she trusted. “I can do dinner.”

 

He closed the distance between them. “Next Saturday? Portabella?”

 

Kagome blanched. Portabella was elegant, expensive, and known as the most romantic restaurant in town. He wasn't fooling around. “Portabella?” she squeaked.

 

“I thought you liked Italian.”

 

I can do this I can do this I can do this, she chanted in her head. “Portabella sounds divine.” Her new courage abandoned her, and she backed away and put her hand on the doorknob.

 

One step at a time, he reminded himself. “Goodnight, Kagome.”

 

“Goodnight, Sesshoumaru. See you in the morning.”

 

She retreated into the blue room and ran a bath. It was late, but the glitter needed to be washed off. Then she remembered something.

 

She quickly knocked on Sesshoumaru's door. After a minute it opened, revealing Sesshoumaru wearing pajama bottoms, a confused expression, and nothing else. Kagome froze, wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and struck dumb. She had taken his measurements the week before and knew he was powerfully built, but nothing could have prepared her for seeing him topless. The fact that she hadn't seen naked male flesh that wasn't that of her brother-in-law in nearly two years only made the situation more cruel. He looked like Sex on a Stick. She feared she was having a heart attack.

 

“Kagome? What's wrong?”

 

“Uhhh…I…ummm…” She half handed, half threw the bottle of eye make-up remover. Reduced to incoherence, she spun and fled to the safety of her room. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What have I gotten myself into?”

 

&&&

 

I do not own Inuyasha, The Host, The White Stripes, any Star Trek species, the Pillsbury Dough Boy, Twilight, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Lust, Caution, or Tabasco. To clear up any confusion about the Twilight movie, this fic thus far takes place in 2007. No actual lawyers were insulted in the writing of this chapter (only my husband, and he's a good sport). Thank you for reading!