InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Heart's Landfill ❯ Interference ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: As always all characters will be walking that fine line called OOCness, one in particularly, Sango, is going to take a flying leap over it!! I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter. I actually meant to post it last week Friday, but forgot to before I left for my four-day trip to Universal Studios. I had a ball!! If you haven't been please go and ride The Hulk like 45 times, it amazing!! And the graphics on Spiderman are freaking awesome, it's like you're actually in the movie!! Oh my god, don't forget about dueling dragons!! That roller coaster will make you think you're having a heart attack, but you'll want to get back on as soon as you get off!! Well that's enough about that. For this fic, since it's basically just going to be fun writing, I'll try to update at least once a week!! Anyway thanks for all your reviews and keep it up, it's about to get hot from here.

 

Disclaimer: I don't claim ownership to anyone; we just have to give thanks to Rumiko Takahashi/Viz for that. However, I do claim ownership to Nya.

 

FYI: Kanna and Kagura are not, I repeat not, demons in this fic.

 

Chapter 2

 

Interference

 

“Don't tell me you slept here, again.”

 

Inuyasha glanced up from his computer screen and snorted at his secretary, Nya.

 

She was a black woman, about the age of 35 or so, who had moved from the states with her husband, a native Japanese man. At first Inuyasha had found it rather weird that she was married to a short, fat, almost bald, and squinty-eyed Jap.

 

It was by no means the mixing of races that unnerved him. It was more that Nya was actually rather attractive; well more than attractive. She was beautiful. She was of slender build and stood at least 5'8” with honey-toned skin. She had stark black hair that she wore cropped about her shoulders. Her facial features reminded him of a Tropicana commercial he'd seen on one of his many business trips to LA.

 

Basically, he knew that, had it not been love that had her shackled to the imp she called a husband, she could've been married to some business tycoon, or maybe even a movie star, and living the high life up in the valleys of her home state.

 

Gliding over to his desk, she set down the cup of coffee that she'd bought for him on her way up. “I know you own 50% of this company, but do you really think that if you go home it'll fall apart?”

 

Picking up the cup of coffee that she brought to him everyday like clockwork, Inuyasha sat back in his chair. After taking a quick sip, he stated with a smirk, “Nosey Nya, if you must know, I did go home last night.”

 

Glancing down at her watch, which read 7:15 A.M., Nya sat down in the chair across from her boss. “What'd you do, go home and shower, then come right back? I left here at 9 last night and you were still here.”

 

Setting the cup down on his desk, Inuyasha stared at his secretary. She may have only been a few years older than him, but she sure had a way of acting like his mother.

 

If he didn't go home, she'd berate him as if he was child. If he went without eating, she'd order food and place it in front of him. After the fiasco of a wedding, she was the only one that understood that what he needed was time alone, and she made damn sure he got it.

 

“It's 7 in the morning, even I don't normally come in this early and I'm usually the first one here,” Nya explained, letting him know that she was not about to buy his bullshit.

 

“So then why are you here? Don't tell me you and your fat-ass husband had a fight.”

 

Nya laughed. She knew he wasn't trying to put her husband down; hell, he always talked about him like that, from the moment he met him. “I already told you, he's not fat! He's big boned.”

 

Inuyasha laughed and replied, “Is that what they're calling it these days? I always thought fat was fat.”

 

Crossing her legs elegantly, Nya pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. “Whatever. See if I come in early again to check on you. And that's the last cup of coffee I bring you too,” she snapped, crossing her arms under her full breasts.

 

Inuyasha wanted to laugh at her failed attempt at pouting, but held it in. He didn't think she'd know how not to bring him coffee. As a matter of fact, when she came in for her first interview, she brought him a cup of coffee mixed exactly the way he liked it; black and strong, no sugar and no cream. 5 years had passed since then and here she sat.

 

`She came in early to check on me? Am I really that bad about falling to sleep at work?' he thought.

 

Nya said, “All jokes aside, you seem to be in higher spirits today. Kanna wouldn't by any chance have something to do with this, would she?” She'd set him up on a blind date with her husband's cousin a week ago, and had hoped that they would hit it off.

 

Inuyasha scoffed and almost choked on his coffee. “The albino princess? You must be joking.”

 

“Well I talked to her and she said the date went well. She said you guys talked all night.”

 

“Correction, `she' talked all night,” Inuyasha stated. Turning back to his computer, he finished, “And, please, stop trying to set me up with these relatives of yours. I have absolutely no desire to be even remotely, related you.”

 

Nya laughed and retorted, “You say that like it would be a bad thing.”

 

“Feh, when you set me up with people that can't handle sunlight and talk a mile a minute about absolutely nothing, then yes, I definitely find a problem with it.” Sitting back in his chair, he continued as he picked up his cup, “Need I mention your gold digging niece-in-law, Kagura. That chick talked constantly about her Prada bags and her Gucci boots.” Scooting forward so that he could stare Nya in the face, he added, “Do I look like I fucking care about her Gucci anything?” Swallowing the last of his coffee, he added, “Did I tell you she had the audacity to ask me to help her buy a new car?”

 

“She didn't,” Nya, stated in disbelief.

 

“Yes! Yes, she did. It was our first date!”

 

“You never told me that!” Nya exclaimed. “I can't believe she did that! Wait until I get my hands on her! Th…that gold digging, Heffa!”

 

“Yeah, well believe it. And that's exactly why I would appreciate it if you didn't try setting me up with anyone `you know' ever again.”

 

Inuyasha knew she meant well, but sometimes the people that meant well seemed to cause the most trouble and were the hardest to get to back off.

 

He hadn't had the heart to tell her that he had no desire to meet with her horrid single female family members, or any other woman for that matter. So, what he always did when she came to him with another `fart' of an idea was put it off, and put it off, and put it off. When he felt he had run out of believable excuses for why he couldn't just have a drink with what she considered a beautiful woman, and someone that he would connect with, he'd cave.

 

“I should get at least one more chance. You know what they say in baseball, three strikes and you're out.”

 

“Nya, have I told you how much I absolutely loathe baseball?”

 

Standing to her feet, she reached over and playfully snatched the empty coffee cup from his hand. “I happen to love baseball, and that means I get one more chance to set you up with the perfect woman.”

 

“Please, God, save me,” Inuyasha mumbled while looking up at the ceiling.

 

Turning away, Nya replied as she made her way to the door, “Don't worry. She will…she will.”

 

Inuyasha chuckled as he watched her slowly pull the door closed behind her.

 

This was why he relished being at work so much. It was the distraction from his wayward thoughts of Kikyo and her betrayal. The countless hours of looking over numbers and the endless amounts of meetings, all of it allowed him just a few hours of feeling normal, needed, and appreciated.

 

Sliding his chair away from his desk, he glanced at the clock on the wall and grimaced. It was only 8:15 A.M.; he'd been here for two hours, meticulously going over the data for the meeting with the executives from Johnson & Johnson, who were considering opening up a Japanese office.

 

The meeting was supposed to take place in about 45 minutes; it was a time that he could hardly wait for. Not because he liked participating in them, but because it was just another needed, desired distraction away from his innermost thoughts.

 

At one time, he hated doing this…being here. He hated being dressed in a suit and tie and mulling over mounds of paper. He'd rather be in jeans and a t-shirt and racing up the cliffside on his motorcycle.

 

If the weather was nice and he had to come into the office, he'd throw on a pair of slippers, baggy jeans, and a worn t-shirt and wander in for a few minutes or so. But now… After Kikyo… After the wedding that should have never happened… After the betrayal and the broken heart… After the weeks of forced solitude…

 

Staring at his reflection in the spotless windowpane, Inuyasha took in his appearance slowly. His perfectly pressed, buttoned down shirt with matching pearl cuff links and tie, his personally fitted slacks and the Italian shoes that he wore on his feet.

 

Staring at his reflection a little longer, he allowed his eyes to roam higher, up to the top of his head and at the two dog-ears that sat up proud and aware, then down at the golden orbs that were identical to his. Snarling slightly, he allowed his tongue to roam freely over his fangs.

 

Running his hand down his impassive looking face, he tried to wipe away the despondent look that stared back at him, but to no avail.

 

Stepping back, away from the image that smirked back at him gloatingly, he mumbled, “Who am I? When did I become…become Sesshomaru?”

 

“Mr. Takahashi, the clients for your 9 A.M. meeting have arrived. Also, your brother called; he wants you to start without him.”

 

It was Nya's voice booming over the intercom that jarred him out of his reverie and back into a world that he had become accustomed to…a world that he now welcomed.

 

“Show them to the conference room, I'll be there shortly,” Inuyasha replied, his voice distant… vacant. He realized in that moment that he hadn't a clue as to just whom it was he was staring back at.

 

Simonkal of Inuy

 

“Law office,” Kagome chirped, as she picked up the phone, which her Secretary would have gotten had she been on time.

 

The person on the other end asked for her, but she replied, “She's not available, can I take a message?”

 

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to the person on the other end; it was just that she hadn't quite gotten over the hangover from her one-person birthday celebration the night before.

 

“I'll make sure she gets this just soon as she comes in,” she stated, trying her best to sound like the happy-go-lucky airhead that she thought most receptionists were.

 

Hanging up the phone, she sat back in her chair and groaned. `Why did I have to open that second bottle of wine? Why couldn't I just go to bed?' she thought as her temples pulsed harshly against her skull.

 

Squinting at the clock that hung over the door of her office, she noticed that it read, 9:25 A.M. '25 minutes late, eh? My God, is that woman ever on time for anything?'

 

It's not that she had anything special for her to do; Kagome just hated tardiness.

 

How she'd put up with her assistant for this long was beyond her. To be fair, she had to admit that the girl knew her stuff. She was the best damn paralegal in the office and had pulled Kagome out of one too many pit falls, which always caused Kagome to wonder, `Why in the hell hasn't she taken her bar exam?'

 

“Good morning, Boss Lady!”

 

Groaning, Kagome covered her ears with her hands and whispered, “Must you not only be late, but do you have to be loud as well?”

 

Sango laughed and fanned her hand in a dismissive manner as she made her way over to one of the plush chairs that sat in front of Kagome's desk. “I'm sorry, I really did try to be on time this morning, but Miroku… Well, let's just say that, if he doesn't get his fix in the morning, he's a grumpy, grumpy man.”

 

“Oh God, please spare me. I really think that's just too much information.” Kagome figured she'd never get used to this woman's blatant disregard for privacy. It was as if she had no decorum whatsoever. “Sango, could you please not talk so loud.”

 

Settling back in her chair, the all too chipper young woman crossed her legs and stared across the huge mahogany desk at Kagome. “Did you go get drunk without me last night?”

 

Kagome rolled her eyes and mumbled, “No, actually I didn't go out.”

 

“But you did get drunk. I can tell a hung-over person when I see one.”

 

“Oh please, just…just…” Kagome gulped, and then finished, “Just be on time, will you?”

 

Sango sat forward, her elbows resting on the polished top of the desk. “So what was the occasion? You've never been hung-over before, at least not in all the time that I've been working for you.”

 

Kagome didn't mean to be short with her, but she felt terrible; irritated, frustrated, and downright sick. “You `were' late, you `are' loud, and you're `too' damn nosey, Sango.”

 

The woman in question leaned back and smirked. “Maybe I am, but you've got a nasty hangover and you've got a client coming in an hour.”

 

Kagome groaned dejectedly and let her head fall forward onto her desk. `…Mr. Suki and his loud obnoxious wife. Kill me now, Lord!'

 

Digging in her purse that was still slung over her shoulder, Sango pulled out two packets and slid them across the huge desk. “Here take these; you should be feeling better within a few minutes.” Thinking better of it, she pulled the packets back and chuckled, then stated, “On one condition.”

 

Kagome looked up at her assistant and groaned again, but her face clearly read, `whatever you want, I'll do it. Just make this feeling go away!'

 

“Tell me why you were drinking last night. Did you have a date? Was he fine? Did you get laid?”

 

The look on Kagome's face registered 30 degrees of shock and dismay, but she didn't have the energy necessary to bite the grinning woman's head off.

 

“If you want these, then you better tell me,” Sango teased, knowing full well that, regardless of whether Kagome told her or not, the medicine was hers without question.

 

“I could just fire you, you know,” Kagome hissed, trying to sound threatening.

 

“I suppose, but you won't. Now stop wasting time, Boss Lady, we have clients coming in.”

 

`God I hate her sometimes,' Kagome thought, as she sat back in her chair, her hands still clutching her temples. “If you must know, it was my birthday. I just had a few glasses of wine at home, alone.”

 

“Your birthday? Why didn't you tell me? We could've gone out!” Sango declared, standing to her feet. “I would've taken you to the new club that just opened off of 5th,” she finished, while walking over to the small bar that took up the right front corner of the office.

 

Grabbing a glass, Sango proceeded to fill it with water then empty the contents of the packets into it. “So, why didn't you tell me? I would've, at the very least, gotten you something.”

 

Taking the glass from her, Kagome gulped it quickly, and then retorted breathlessly, “If this works, I'll consider this my birthday present, okay?”

 

Staring at Kagome for a moment, Sango couldn't help but to notice the resemblance between her boss and a wounded puppy that had been abandoned on the side of road.

 

`How could a woman as pretty and as kind as her, spend her birthday alone?'

 

Thinking back, she realized in the months that she had been working with Kagome, she had never heard her mention anything about a man…any man… ever. She'd never received flowers, with the exception of yesterday, and that was from her mother.

 

They'd been out a few times for drinks after work and even shopping on the weekend every now and again, but she'd never even thought to ask about it. All they ever really talked about was her upcoming nuptials to Miroku.

 

`Is it possible that she doesn't have a man in her life? Could she have gone this long with no one…no sex?' That thought alone was enough to jar Sango out of her self-induced haze. ` I know she's a private person, but nobody can be that private. I have to help her.'

 

“Boss Lady?”

 

Cracking an eye open, Kagome responded, “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

 

Walking back over to the desk, Sango ignored her. She'd always called her that and Kagome had always told her not to, so why stop now?

 

Setting her purse down in the chair, she glanced around the office then back down at Kagome. “Do you want to do something this weekend?”

 

The hung over young woman mimicked, “Do…something?”

 

“Yeah, Miroku is going to be working all weekend so I have some free time; and, besides, I'm sure it's been awhile since you've gone out.”

 

Kagome stared at her, she could feel the medicine, whatever it was, already beginning to work it's magic. “Go out?”

 

“For a female attorney that made partner at the age of 25, you sure can act slow,” Sango chided playfully. “Yes, do you want to go out? You spend most of your time cooped up in this office and the rest alone. My god, you act like you're married with children or something.”

 

Kagome inquired apprehensively, her eyes narrowed slightly, “What are you up to?”

 

“My goodness, woman, I'm not up to anything! I just haven't had a girl's night out in a long time, and who better to have one with, if not my Boss Lady?”

 

Kagome knew she was up to something, regardless of what she said, but she hadn't a clue as to just what that was. “I don't know. I haven't really been out to a club in a while.”

 

“Oh really?” Stepping so that she was standing directly in front of her, Sango continued, “When is the last time you went out on a date?”

 

“And what, exactly, does a date have to do with going out to a club?”

 

“Nothing, I was just wondering,” Sango replied.

 

“Well stop wondering,” Kagome snapped. She didn't know why, but, every time the topic of dating and men came up, she always got defensive.

 

Okay, so she was lying to herself, she knew exactly why. It always dug up thoughts of Kouga…thoughts of things that she didn't want to deal with…feelings that she wanted nothing to do with.

 

Sango stared down at her with a tight, empathetic smile. She didn't have many girlfriends, but, from the ones she did have, she had learned that when a woman was jilted or hurt in a previous relationship they tended to shy away from everything and anything dealing with the opposite sex.

 

`Could she have been hurt?'

 

One would have thought that, because Sango was a woman, she would have experienced some degree of this first hand, but she hadn't. She and Miroku had been dating since she was 15 and he was 17. He'd never cheated on her that she knew about, though he was the absolute definition of a flirt.

 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just…It's just been a rough few days,” Kagome stated softly, feeling ashamed for letting her angry side show through for even a second.

 

Sango rolled her eyes and giggled, “Don't worry about it,” as she turned and bent over to pick up her purse.

 

“Sango, I'd love to go out sometime, if the offer still stands,” Kagome said out of guilt more than anything else.

 

The ecstatic young woman replied, while turning to leave, “Great, then this weekend we'll make a whole day out of it, okay?” She wasn't sure what she would do from there, but what she did know was that her boss was in desperate need of a friend, and, if boss would let her, she'd be that friend.

 

Kagome watched the woman retreat from her office and she smiled wanly. `What will it hurt to just go out and have fun? Who says I have to meet up with some asshole? I'll just go out, enjoy Sango's company for a few hours, and head back home, that's all. Just us…Just the girls.'

 

When did she start having to talk herself into doing something fun? Maybe her mom was right. Maybe it was time for her to go out and have some fun, minus the men of course. Maybe this once… Maybe…

 

Kagome sighed and rested her head on her desk. Her head still hurt just a little too much to think at the moment, but she was able to manage a final thought before she closed her eyes and tried to catch what the American mega talk show host, Oprah, called a power nap, `My life sucks!'

 

Until Next Time…(Your .02 cents is greatly appreciated)

 

 

Next Chapter: Cynical Fever