InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Laying Down the Law ❯ Expect the Unexpected ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Hey guys, back again with the next chapter. Thank you to everyone for your faithful reviewing; I was pleasantly surprised that people like Ranbou/Shitora. It really made my day, haha. Love.

The night air was warm and still, gentle breezes drifting over the ocean and sending waves of leisure through Tokyo's streets. A foghorn gave a low belch, alerting those at the harbor that night was upon them and all was safe and sound, even past midnight. Flickering lights, yellow with age, lit the piers and warehouses with an eerie glow, casting long shadows on the dusty walls; something in the wind was dangerous, yet oddly calming.

Sesshomaru sighed, sending billows of smoke pouring out through his mouth and nostrils; if it were up to him, he'd be anywhere but the harbor this warm summer's night, but duty held a tight leash. The dog demon lifted his golden eyes to the sky, observing the smoggy film ensconcing the moon from his immediate view. Sometimes he wondered if he should grab Rin and high tail it to the country, buy them a small cottage and ignore the foolish world around them. But then duty gave his leash a yank and Sesshomaru sharnk back into position, knowing he couldn't abandon his post just yet. When it was time to leave, he would know.

Inuyasha, Shitora, Miroku and Kouga said boredly against the warehouse, readjusting their positions atop the crates ever so often. All of them, save Shitora, were smoking up a storm, nervous and fidgety on this Thursday night. Inuyasha let out a snort, crossing his leather clad arms irritatedly. "Will those jerks hurry up and get their asses over here? I wanna go home."

"Me too," Shitora breathed wearily, closing her eyes against the ugly landscape of the harbor. "We've got work in the morning."

"It's no different than any other Thursday," Miroku reminded them gently, tiring of his cigarette and crushing the dead butt beneath his boot heel. "Waiting, exchanging, and leaving. That's all we do."

Kouga snorted, sending a puff of smoke through his nose. "That doesn't mean they can take their sweet time. We set a drop off period for a reason; I wish they'd honor it like we do."

Just as Kouga said these words, a pair of bright high beams cut through the darkness and struck the group in the face, causing them to shield their eyes. Sesshomaru pushed off the warehouse wall, dropping his cigarette to the ground before walking leisurely over to meet his client. The car came to a stop, killing its lights and then its engine; the mechanics looked longingly at the Rolls Royce, wondering what it would be like under the hood of such a car. After a moment, the driver's door opened to reveal a man dressed in a plain black suit; he hurried to the back door and opened it swiftly, bowing low as a rather round leg stepped out from the cab.

Hanya Torukinay was short and squat, dressed in a tacky in stripe suit and bowler. He looked every bit the mob boss with his beady eyes and rolling fat lips, but he was known for his ruthless attitude. With a lurch, he pulled himself from the car and straightened out the wrinkles in his jacket, turning his fat face towards the Fang core in its entirety.

"Ah, if it isn't my little gang boys," Hanya said with a sickening grin. Casting an eye over Shitora, he added, "And their bitch."

Shitora said nothing, knowing she couldn't attack the man for a comment such as this. She satisifed herself with gritting her teeth, narrowing her eyes, and digging her claws into her palms; it was going to be a long night.

"I trust your carried out my order?" the mob boss continued, waddling slowly towards the warehouse door, careful not to get dirt on his crisp white Spatz.

Sesshomaru, whose lips were oddly tight, gave a curt nod and said, "Everything you asked for is in place."

"We'll see about that," Hanya replied, still retaining his grin. The stocky man pushed the warehouse door open with one heavily ringed finger, followed by his chauffer and a rather ominous man with an obvious bulge at his hip. Sesshomaru cast an eye over his gang members, giving them a cautioning look; when there were guns involved, they knew to be very careful with what they said.

The body guard flipped on the light, revealing a warehouse much like the one where the Fangs conducted their mechanics. The only difference lay in the contents; this warehouse was empty but for five shining sports cars, parked adjacent to one another in the middle of the room. A Lamborghini, a Saleen, a Maserati, a Porsche and a Ferrari, all gleaming reds, yellows and blacks. Hanya walked casually towards the five cars, running his hand over each and every freshly polished hood. He peered inside the cars, noting the leather interior and fine detailing, before moving to the back of the vehicles, smiling faintly at the personalized license plates; TRUKNAY.

"Not bad, Taisho, not bad at all," Hanya murmured, nodding his fat head moderately. "I suppose we'll settle on the price we agreed on, then. Since everything seems to be in order, that is."

Sesshomaru nodded and walked slowly towards Hanya and his guards, keeping his hands strategically out of his pockets to denote that he was unarmed. The chauffer, who was carrying a mysteriuos black briefcase in his hands, lowered his eyebrows and waited until Sesshomaru was directly before him to hand him the container. Sesshomaru, as the others watched, unlocked the briefcase and examined its contents; 5,000,000 yen.

After giving the sum a brief once over, Sesshomaru nodded his silver head, saying in a dull monotone, "Until next month, Torukinay."

"Yeah, next month. If these cars are good to me," came Hanya's reply, giving Sesshomaru a broad wink and letting loose a sickening barrel laugh.

Hanya and his body guards exited the warehouse and entered the Rolls Royce, turning on their high beams before driving along the dock wood towards the road. As soon as the man was out of the area, Inuyasha made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "God, I hate that guy."

"Better than Jenyi," Kouga said dryly, shaking his head slightly.

"Or Kanryu," Miroku added.

"Yeah, and I actually kind of like Sanyo," Shitora mentioned, letting loose a small smile.

Every Thursday of the month, the Fangs did business with one of these four mob bosses. Each had a taste for cars and seemed to need them more often than one needed shoes. Sesshomaru suspected that they gave them away as present to beneficiaries, but he couldn't say for sure; after the Fangs accepted parts from Sweden and decked out the sports cars, they didn't see the machines again. The only difference between these cars and the Fangs' own transportation lay in the EPA filter; the boosted cars had illegal filters under the hood. Filters regulated speed and gas mileage, making it so that a car couldn't exceed a certain velocity or obtain a certain gallon/mile ratio. With the Swedish filters, which consequently harmed the environment, speed depended on the engine and gas mileage was 15% more efficient. The Fangs made a hefty profit on their vehicles.

Yawning tiredly, Miroku said, "I'm going home, see everyone in the morning."

The others muttered goodbye as Miroku waved a hand, walking off towards his car, parked behind the warehouse with the others. There was a silence between Kouga and the three Taishos as they all wondered what the others could be thinking; every Thursday, despite their tough facades, the Fangs wondered if what they did was wrong. Was it so wrong to fight for the wellbeing of their gang? They did what they had to do to get ahead; was that so terrible?

Finally, Kouga glanced down at his watch and said, "I oughta go, too. See you guys tomorrow."

The wolf demon and Sesshomaru performed a quick hand pull, the man hug where they bump chests in that moderate, platonic way, before striding off to hs motorcycle. The siblings who remained exchanged glances, shrugging and deciding wordlessly to head for home. Shitora rubbed her eyes wearily, white ears drooping ever so slightly as they walked. Inuyasha grinned wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder.

"Tired, Tora?"

"Yeah, I can't find a comfortable position when I sleep cause of that damn cut," the girl mumbled in reply, referring to the scar on her back. It had only been a week since the incident and, while she was hanyou, the wounds was made by a demon and seemed to bother her constantly.

Sesshomaru frowned. "Take pain killers before you go to sleep," he advised.

"I do, I'm like an Advil junkie lately. They don't do much," came Shitora's tired reply, letting loose a wide yawn that stretched her tiny mouth cutely.

"Kaede's probably got somethin'," Inuyasha said finally, giving the girl's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Sighing, Shitora nodded and glanced up gratefully at Sesshomaru's car as it came into view; the three took the same vehicle, as several cars around the docks at night might raise suspicion. Sliding tiredly into the backseat, the girl allowed her eyes to close as she fell into a fitful sleep, rolling to the side every so often as she pressed down uncomfortably on her back.

Sesshomaru started the engine and soon they were on the road, gazing out at the deserted night highways. Inuyasha enjoyed the certain limitless feeling which accompanied night rides on open road, as though they could drive forever without barricades or restraints. Glancing back at Shitora, he said carelessly, "I didn't realize how much I missed her before she came back."

This provoked a soft, barking chuckle from his older brother. "I know what you mean. She's just the way she was before...apart from the provocative clothes and the ocassional lewd comment."

"I kind of like the lewd comments, not gonna lie," came Inuyasha's cheeky response.

"You would."

After a moment, during which Inuyasha noted the rhythym set by the passing street lights, he asked, "Is Rin still angry about this?"

Knowing that by "this," Inuyasha was referring to their illegitimate activites on Thursdays, the Fang leader answered stoically, "She doesn't enjoy the fact that we do it, but she doesn't try to make me stop. She understands, to a certain point I think, why we do it."

Inuyasha made a sound in the back of his throat. "Maybe she can remind me tomorrow. I forget sometimes."

Sesshomaru snorted. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"I mean, what do you tell her when you leave? 'Don't worry, baby, I'm only facing off some mobsters for illegal drag cars,'" Inuyasha asked sarcastically, staring belligerently out the window; Sesshomaru could see that he was sinking into one of his funks again.

The Fang leader, forever patient with his brother, flipped on his blinker and exited the highway near their house, acting as though he couldn't hear the acid tone in Inuyasha's voice. "I don't wake her up, for one thing. If I want to keep my parts intact, waking her up isn't in my best interests. But no, I don't generally tell her what we do."

It was nothing new to Inuyasha that Sesshomaru and Rin slept together. They had their wild nights and then, more often than not, they simply slept cuddled in each other's arms, not wanting sex to interfere with their relationship to the point where it was nothing but sex. When they wanted to do something besides cuddle, they went to Rin's house when the servants had the night off and her father was out of town. When they simply wanted to fall asleep together, they found solitude at Inuyasha's house, where their actions weren't frowned upon. Kaede knew perfectly well that nothing untoward when on upstairs and, with this easing her mind, she allowed the behavior to continue. Inuyasha and Shitora truly could've cared less, as long as there was no sex next door; being half demons, they could hear and smell their share of disgusting details.

"I swear, Shomo, sometimes I'm so fuckin' jealous of you two," Inuyasha said randomly, causing Sesshomaru to cock a thin white eyebrow in surprise.

"Are you? I wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me just now. I didn't think you were looking for a serious relationship," the older brother mentioned, sounding more amused than anything.

The hanyou sighed, ears drooping slightly. "Eh, I didn't think I was. I've been rethinkin' that lately, though."

"Because of Kagome?" Sesshomaru asked casually, enjoying the irritated glint in his brother's eye.

"None of yer business, bastard," Inuyasha bit back harshly, crossing his arms in a defiant gesture. "Me and Kagome ain't doin' anything, if that's what yer saying."

Noticing with a smile how rancid Inuyasha's speech became at the thought of love, Sesshomaru said pleasantly, "Which might explain how bitchy you've been lately. Maybe if you and Kagome get together, we won't have to put up with any more of your shit."

Inuyasha gave a pracitcally acidic "feh," turning his gaze pointedly away from his brother; this conversation was no longer going in a direction he cared to dabble in. At the stubborn look on the hanyou's face, Sesshomaru concealed a smirk and returned his eyes to the road. So he'd hit the nail on the head, had he? Everyone knew Kagome and Inuyasha had an attraction, especially after the boy's performance at the race. But the two of them were practically impossible when it came to consummating their relationship; eventually, their friends decided it was best to let things take their course and Operation Hook-up was put on an indefinite hiatus. With Rin and Ayame's suspicious glances lately, however, Sesshomaru had a terrible gut feeling the whole thing might start up again. The very idea made him rather ill.

The Saleen eventually came to rest in the Taisho's driveway and Sesshomaru killed the engine. After gently sweeping Shitora into his arms, the older Taisho followed Inuyasha around the house towards the back door where they quietly entered the kitchen, lest they wake Kaede or Rin, who was spending the night. Sesshomaru paused by the back door as he caught a hint of cigarette smoke on the air.

"Inuyasha, take Shitora upstairs," he said softly, passing his sister off to his brother and turning casually towards the back yard. Inuyasha, who also smelled the caustic scent of cherries and cigarettes, smirked and went back inside the tuck in Shitora.

Sesshomaru entered the backyard through the swinging gate, observing Rin as she lay contentedly on the trampoline, cell phone in one ear and cigarette pressed between her lips. The dog demon approached her, making sure to shuffle his feet and alert her of his presence; Rin admonished him constantly about sneaking up on her, which he did quite often, though not on purpose. It was simply his quiet way.

At the sound of shuffling in the grass, Rin sat up and smiled slightly. "Aya? Mhmm, Sesshy's home too. Yeah, go back to bed. Love."

The girl flipped the phone closed, replacing it in her sports bra as she practically threw herself into Sesshomaru's arms. The Fang leader caught her deftly, holding her close and savoring the sweet scent of cherries as it assaulted his nostrils. Rin buried her head in his strong chest, sighing in what sounded like relief.

"There you are," she murmured, as though she'd been looking for him all this time.

Sesshomaru chuckled, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on Rin's lips. "A little later than normal. Hanya took his sweet time getting to the drop off." As an afterthought, he added, "And when he finally came, he called Shitora our bitch. She was very pleased."

Giggling, Rin took his hands in hers and cocked her head to the side. "Was she? Somehow I can just imagine that."

Shaking his head with a small smile on his face, Sesshomaru snaked a strong arm around Rin's waist and lead her back into the house, guiding her up the stairs to his room where he promptly closed the door. He kept his room in good condition, if not for the occasional discarded shirt, but he was a relatively clean boy of 18. Rin flopped back on the bed in only her sports bra and pink bed shorts. Sesshomaru had to admit the sight was pleasing as he removed his jacket, hanging it in its regular place on the door knob. He then removed his wife beater and jeans, leaving himself wearing only his boxers, quite a sight for any woman to see.

This done, he laid down facing Rin on his side and wrested a hand on her waist, not daring to pull her much closer in the heat. "Aya's awake at this time?" he mused, playing with a lock of Rin's hair.

Eyes half hooded, his girlfriend replied lightly, "She and I always talk on Thursdays to keep ourselves awake, you know? She worries about Kouga a lot, more than I worry about you I think. I've learned not to worry so much, but Aya..." Sighing, Rin continued, "Kouga's all she has most of the time. All those brother and sisters, no one to help her but Jun, her dad away every night making money to keep them all alive...it's sad. I've offered her money, but she's too proud for that. I wish I could help her."

Sesshomaru shook his head slightly. "And I wish I could help Kouga, but both of them are too stubborn to accept our help. He and Ranbou live on their own most of the time; I swear their father's in too deep to ever get out of the Yakuza. Rumor has it he's retiring, but I have this strange feeling that one might not be able to just retire. He knows too much. All we can hope is that Miroku's father helps him out."

"They're perfect for each other, I think," Rin said softly, chuckling as she dwelled on Kouga and Ayame's relationship. "If not for each other and the gang, they have absolutely nothing, but together they're happy. You know?"

The dog demon smiled slightly at Rin's wistful romanticism, running a thumb absently across her cheek. "Kouga's easily satisfied like that. He lives for other people; I've come to understand that. If he thought we could do without him, he'd probably go away and die somewhere. That's the kind of person he is."

"Why my lord," Rin teased, "I do think you just admitted to needing Kouga! I didn't know you needed anyone!"

Her giggling was cut short as Sesshomaru intercepted her lips, drawing her into a passionate kiss which took the humor right out of her mouth. Eventually, the kiss came to a natural end, one which was shortened considerably by Rin's confusion; Sesshomaru didn't often kiss her like that for no reason. The glimmer in his eyes proved her thoughts true as he observed her, smile loving but serious.

"I need Kouga, Inuyasha, Shitora, my friends, and most of all, I need you, Rin. I'm not so proud that I can't admit my own manly needs," he said, amber eyes shining an amused gold in the moonlight.

Softening at his words, Rin placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and said quietly, "I need you, too."

"I love you, Rin. I'm afraid I don't tell you that enough," Sesshomaru said with a slight sigh, weary from days of putting on a stiff face.

"I love you too, Sesshomaru."

And with that, both Rin and Sesshomaru closed their eyes, drifting into a peaceful night's sleep. The next day would surely be another of great peril and drama, as most days often were. But together, they could tackle all the disgruntled mechanics in this world, if only for the sake of love and its passions. As a wise man once said, love is truly all a person needs.

The summer sun beat down mercilessly upon the inhabitants of Tokyo, bringing sweat to skin's surface and coaxing citizens towards the beach. For the gangs, however, today was not a day for swimming in the ocean; it was, in fact, a day for work. The warehouse hangar door was open, allowing what would've been a wonderfully cooling breeze to float in...that is, had there been any wind to speak of.

Shippo sighed and wiped a sheet of glistening sweat from his forehead, staring belligerently up at the sky outside. What with all the machinery inside headquarters, it had to be ten or fifteen degrees hotter inside the warehouse than it was outside. And this was certainly saying something. Knowing better than to complain, the kitsune turned away from the taunting sun outside and tightened his grip on his wrench, returning to his work.

Sango glanced over at the redheaded boy, marveling at how much he resembled Kei and Nanashi. The hair of his mother, the eyes of his father, his mother's determination, his father's pleasant attitude. Chuckling, the girl turned her head ever so slightly to the side and gave a small gasp as a snap panged sharply against her head, followed shortly by the gentle rush of her hair cascading down her back. Reaching her hands up to touch the top of her head, Sango groaned; her rubbed band had snapped in the heat.

"Hold on a second, guys, sorry, hair malfunction," she muttered to Shippo and Miroku, who she'd taken to working with over the past couple of weeks. Shippo gave a brief nod to show he'd heard while Miroku actually glanced up, violet eyes twinkling as his obsvered the objects of his affection, dark brown hair falling around her like the Kami herself.

"Roku, drill," Shippo said dryly, holding out his open palm to the side. There was a brief silence as Shippo waited for the feel of metal against his hand, though it never came. "Miroku, the drill please?" Still nothing. Sighing, Shippo glanced up at Miroku, whose unfocused eyes were following Sango's every move as she approached Kagome, asking for a rubber band.

"Hey, Miroku," Shippo said louder, reaching out and shaking Miroku lightly by the shoulder.

At this, Miroku finally blinked and turned to face Shippo, shaking his head slightly as though to clear it. "Right, sorry, what did you need?" he asked, mouth rather dry and bare.

"The drill, two bit please," Shippo said casually, trying to conceal the smile threatening to overtake his features.

Miroku grabbed said drill from the tool table and handed it to Shippo, who began fiddling with the bit. After a moment, Miroku said conversationally, "Don't you think Sango looks fantastic with her hair down?"

Grunting as he tried to adjust the rusted bit, Shippo managed to get out, "Unh...she looks...grr...great..."

The older boy gave a dreamy sigh, resting his elbow on the car and his chin in his palm. "Agreed. Sango looks lovely with her hair down. Of course she looks lovely all the time, but especially like that. Like a goddess."

After a moment, Shippo gave the drill bit an extra sharp tug and groaned as it snapped off, another prey fallen to his demon strength. Discarding the damaged drill with practiced annoyance, Shippo walked carefully around the dreaming Miroku and began assembling a new one. "Miroku, why don't you just ask her on a date?"

Blinking his violet eyes in surprise, Miroku turned and fixed his gaze on Shippo, whose muscular twelve year old shoulders were bulging as he twisted the bit back into the drill cradle; sweat had already bled through the back of his white wifebeater, causing it to stick to his back, though Shippo seemed not to notice. Miroku glanced down at his own chest, which was getting noticeably wetter by the second. Realizing what he was thinking about, Miroku gave his head a good shake and realized that, once again, the heat was distracting him from everything else he should be doing. Like fixing cars, helping Shippo, watching Sango...

"Ugh," Miroku groaned, reaching down to the hem of his shirt and peeling it off disgustedly. Tan chest finally uncovered, the boy sighed; though it didn't really do much, at least he could feel a semblance of cool air on his back. Well, sort of. "Shippo, I'll be back in a second, okay?"

"Huh, yeah," Shippo replied distractedly as he continued his battle with the drill.

Miroku threw down his shirt carelessly on the floor as he approached Inuyasha, who was literally waist deep in his Lamborghini. He, Shitora, Ranbou and Kouga were trying to fit the grill on the front of the car and, to do so, Inuyasha had to stand inside the hood parts, in a hole where the newly ordered engine would go, and help the others get the screws in the right places.

"Alright, somebody help push it in," Ranbou murmured as he concentrated deeply on his work; he was trying to aline the grill holes with the screw holes. Kouga nodded curtly, moving to hold the corner of the grill in place while simultaneous keeping his hands out of the way. "Great, somebody get the other corner." Shitora moved to do so, but Ranbou glanced up and furrowed his brow. "Eh, Sukini, don't hurt your back doing that. Roku!"

Smiling at Ranbou's powers of observation, Miroku continued the rest of his journey at a jog, hurrying to take Shitora's place at the grill corner as she sighed and wiped her forehead defeatedly; no one let her do much of anything these days. "Alright guys, one, two, three," Ranbou counted aloud, watching as Kouga and Miroku gave simultaneous pushes and the grill groaned, snapping into place.

After leaning down to check, Ranbou announced, "We got a fit." The others gave a ragged, rather lifeless cheer as Inuyasha began drilling the screws deftly in from inside the hood. He finished quickly and glanced up as Miroku's hand appeared at his side. Smiling, Inuyasha accepted the help out of the car, careful not to jar any of the precious machinery.

"Thanks, Roku," he said gratefully, before turning to the others. "Alright guys, take a break."

The group nodded and began walking slowly towards the back of the room, hoping to grab a beer from the refrigerator. Turning back to Miroku, Inuyasha said with a grin, "I know you didn't come over here just to help put the grill on."

Chuckling, Miroku replied baldly, "You know me too well. Yeah, I got a question. And I want your honest answer, here, alright?" Inuyasha nodded, narrowing his amber eyes in confusion; normally, Miroku wasn't this unsteady on his feet. "Okay. I was thinking of asking Sango to, like, go out or something. Do you think she'll say yes?"

The hanyou snorted and crossed his arms, blowing a piece of silver hair away from his face. "If she doesn't say yes now, she never will; you've been a saint for almost two weeks now. Haven't touched her once, that I saw." Furrowing his brow dangerously, Inuyasha asked, "Have you?"

The boy held up his hands defensively, replying quickly, "No, no, I've been resisting the temptation. I thought maybe if I did, she would see that I don't want to just...I really do want to...um, I...huh..." Miroku trailed off, not quite knowing where he was going with his sentence.

Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha said dryly, "If you're planning on pulling out that kind of big vocabulary when you ask her, how could she say no? You have a real way with words, Roku, anyone ever tell you that?"

Sighing, Miroku ran a hand through his dark hair and mumbled, "Yeah." There was a brief silence before Miroku looked up, a determined spark in his violet eyes. "You know what? I'm making a big deal out of nothing! I can do this, all I have to do is walk up and ask her! Okay!" And with this, Miroku turned on his heels and walked up to Sango with a determined gait. Inuyasha just shook his head, throwing his hands up in the air; fine, he gave up. He didn't even have to say anything, really, and Miroku went charging off like he was going to war. Fine. What-the-fuck-ever. It was too hot to give a rat's ass.

"Sango!" Miroku exclaimed boldly, causing Sango, who was in the middle of redoing her ponytail, to turn confusedly around, brown eyes alight with wonder; god, she was so beautiful.

"Yes?"

"Um..."

The way Sango was looking at him right the, eyes wide, hands poised above her head, wrapped firmly around her silken brown locks, cheeks slightly flushed in the heat...Miroku licked his dry lips, trying to form the words welling up in throat. "Uh...I...um..."

"You..." Sango trailed off, trying to help him finish his thought. "Were you going to ask me something, Miroku?"

"Uh..." Miroku mumured again, unable to shape his lips correctly in this moment of sheer internal chaos.

Unbeknownst to Miroku, those who were taking their break watched him interestedly, sipping beer as though observing an amusing movie in the theater. At the sight of his failure, the boys sighed and rubbed their temples soothingly; how hard was it to just say those fated words? Will you go out with me. Was it so hard? Shitora, however, felt her heart go out to the boy and making an irritated sound in the back of her throat, Shitora hurried towards the couple.

"Sukini, w-" Ranbou said blankly as the girl brushed past him, traveling at a rather quick speed for someone on their break. By this time, the entire warehouse was watching the exchange, silently cheering on Miroku. C'mon, Miroku, just say it! Will you go out with me? The others thought desperately, leaning forward in their unspoken desire to help him.

"Um, no," Miroku mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarassment. "I wasn't going to...ask you..anything...uh..."

Sango blinked, appearing confused while, on the inside, she was rather disappointed. She'd been under the impression he was going to ask her out, but it appeared that hadn't been the case. "Oh. Okay," she said, shrugging and preparing to walk away.

By this time, Shitora had come upon Miroku and grabbed his shoulders, saying quickly, "Sango, wait!"

"Yes?" Sango asked blankly, turning to glance over her shoulder.

Shitora whispered urgently in the boy's ear, "Miroku, repeat after me: will you go out with me?"

"Will you go out with me?" Miroku echoed thoughtlessly, not even putting a moment's contemplation into the words. After realizing what he'd just uttered, Miroku's eyes went wide and a small smile crept over his face. "Yeah! That's what I was going to ask you, Sango. Will you go out with me tonight? Not like an awkward date, but maybe...dinner at my house? Or something?"

Grinning, Shitora unlatched her grip from Miroku's shoulders and walked quietly back towards the others, whose mouths were slightly open; he'd actually done it. He'd actually said the words; it had looked, for a slight instant, as though he wouldn't have the courage. Shitora came to stop at Ranbou's side and she sighed, taking a sip of beer as she continued to watch the exchange. "That was close," she murmured, earning chuckles from the others.

Blinking, Sango wondered what to make of the proposal; finally, she felt an unconcious smile spread across her features and she allowed her eyes to close partially, almost in relief, it seemed. "Sure, Miroku."

There was a brief silence as the warehouse watched with intense surprise and a tentative confusion; had Sango just agreed to go on a date with Miroku? Inuyasha smirked as he and Shitora winked discreetly at each other while the Ookami brothers both grinned. It seemed it was the end of an era; Sango and Miroku were going to go on a date.

"Cool," Miroku said with a small smile, looking for all the world as though he hadn't frozen or sttutered in the first place. "My house at 6. See you there."

Whistling a delicate tune, Miroku placed his hands in his pockets and walked leisurely towards the lounge area, ignoring the stunned looks of his fellow gang members as he grabbed a beer; nothing could ruin his good mood. Sango smiled slightly, shaking her head before returning to work. Shippo just snorted and continued drilling in the engine with his newly assembled bit; teenagers were so stupid.

"Well, which one?"

"Eh, I dunno, hold them up again."

"I like the skirt."

"Yeah, well you would. How about the opinion of someone who doesn't dress like a...well, a whore?"

"At least I have boobs, unlike some people in this room..."

"HEY! What the hell?! That's low, Rin, really under the belt."

"Aya, I think you mean under the boob."

Sango sighed, shaking the hangars and trying to draw attention back towards her current dillema; what to wear. "Guys, can we focus here please?"

The girls turned towards Sango, staring for the umpteenth time at the clothes in her hand; in her left was a pair of leather pants and a purple tube top. In her right was a leather miniskirt and a red tank top. There was complete and total silence in Rin's bedroom as everyone observed the choices at hand, nodding or shaking their heads a few times, before Shitora finally let out a stream of air and said, "Neither."

The other girls groaned; they'd been at this for almost an hour now and nothing seemed to satisfy everyone. Sango was completely clueless as to handling this situation and, accordingly, she just continued to pull sets out of the closet and allowed the others to make decisions; she'd never been good with clothes anyway.

"This is getting ridiculous," Kagome said irritably, rubbing her forehead out of sheer desperation. "There's gotta be another way to do this."

"Yeah, can't we simplify this a little?" Ayame agreed, tired of the arguing.

"Sure, go naked," Shitora suggested, earning herself several dirty glares and one strategically placed pillow in the face.

Shoulders drooping, Sango allowed herself another sigh. "That's sounding better by the minute. What do you think Miroku likes?"

"Um, naked."

"Shitora, shut up," Kagome mumbled, whacking the hanyou on the back of her silver head.

"Wait, why can't she just go in jeans again?" Ayame broke in, adjusting her shoulder blades against the headboard of Rin's bed.

"Because, she's trying to impress him! Jeans don't impress people!" Rin protested, throwing her tiny arms askew.

"When you have Sango's ass, they do," Shitora said with a chuckle, causing a hot blush to rise to Sango's cheeks. The ones on her face, that is.

"Um, thank you?" she said hesitantly, not knowing quite how to respond.

Throwing her hands up defeatedly in the air, Rin said huffily, "Fine, wear jeans. But what about on top? Whatever it is, it's got to show cleavage."

"And here we go again," Ayame murmured, throwing her hands uselessly up in the air. "You and the whore clothes."

"What's up with you and that?" Rin demanded. "I thought you were supposed to be my best friend!"

"I am," Ayame replied boredly,"Which is why I can say with little or no guilt that you dress like a slut. You're not nearly as bad as the Vixens, by any means, but you do love showing off your ass...ets."

Kagome giggled before narrowing her eyes and exclaiming deeply, "Ooooh, cat fight!"

Shitora rolled her eyes, exchanging hopeless glances with Ayame; sometimes, girly issues simply drove them to distraction. Out of the vixens, they were often the least feminine, preferring to stick to their mechanics. Suddenly, Sango said decidedly, "Alright, this is what I'm wearing."

Before anyone could say another word, she ducked inside the closet and exited a moment later in a pair of jeans and a red wifebeater. Shitora giggled at the mortified expression on Rin's face, muffling it into her wrench hand; priceless. Kagome began giving her friend a mocking golf clap, which Ayame echoed, and Sango pranced around the room as though she were modeling on the runway.

"And here, sporting the newest fashion in all the posh teen circles, Sango Tajiya presents the new jeans and wifebeater from Target! Ce magnefique!" Kagome exclaimed.

"Positively dashing!" Shitora exclaimed in a fake british accent.

"Absolutely, the latest craze," Ayame drawled out, flicking her wrist

Rin sighed heavily, falling back on the matress and burying her head in one of her pink pillows. "You guys suck," she mumbled, trying to ignore the jeering chuckles of her friends as they continued their charade. Finally, Kagome glanced down at her watch and furrowed her brow.

"Hey, Sango, six, right?"

Glancing over her shoulder, where she was looking in the mirror, Sango replied, "Yeah, why?"

"Because it's 5:56."

"CRAP!"

Tossing her head back as though his might ease the flow of her hair, Sango grabbed her purse on the way out the door, screaming, "Thanks guys!" before flying down the stairs and out the door. Ayame gave a small smile and said quietly, "Good luck."

Rin, who was just near enough to hear, mumbled mutinously, "Yeah, good luck without cleavage."

Now, Sango had been to Miroku's house many times in the past and, for this reason and this reason only, was not suprised by the size of his house. His father was well known to be the the famed leader of the Tokyo Yakuza. He was thought to be ruthless, blood thirsty and cruel; this was almost laughable for, behind closed doors, he was a loving father and altogether delightful man. As he once said, however, "Business and family are two separate things." Because of his firm belief in this principle, he never "brought his work home" so to speak; there were never members of the Yakuza at his estate and they knew better than to come.

Today, Sango pulled up at the gate, which was otherwise shrouded by overgrowth, and spoke directly into the speaker. "Sango Tajiya."

"Hello, Ms. Sango. Come on in," came the gate keeper's response.

The gates swung open, revealing a dirty road shaded by overhanging trees; Sango drove her car slowly along the road, never glancing at the forested route; she recognized it enough not to care much. After quite a drive, the foliage grew thinner and soon parted, giving Sango her first glimpse of the mansion; it was, in and of itself, modeled to resemble and Italian villa with its tan walls and red roof tiles. Vines grew along the rod iron balconies, matching the climbing roses which scaled the walls, painting a picture of lovliness alongside the adjacent lake and substantial acreage.

Smiling to herself, Sango killed the engine at the round driveway and stepped out into the warm summer air, jogging quickly to the door; she absolutely detested being late. She knocked politely, only to find the door open immediately afterwards. Miroku's butler, an elderly British man by the name of Joyce, stood there in his suit, nodding politely. "Ms. Sango. A pleasure."

"Thank you, Joyce," Sango said sweetly, walking inside the tiled entrance way and sparing the furnishings very little attention. They were expensive, gaudy, most of them Italian. The one thing she truly did appreciate about Miroku's house was the fact that all the windows were constantly open in the summer, allowing the scent of flowers to drift in at all times. It made everything seem so much more...casual.

"Sango!"

Turning at her name, Sango smiled as Miroku came bounding down the stairs, wearing only jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt; she had to admit that, with his defined muscles, that shirt was awesomely flattering. She almost wanted to reach out and touch his chest...but that would be incredibly awkward, she reminded herself, shaking her head free of such thoughts. This was supposed to remain as un-awkward as possible.

"Hey Miroku," she said, returning his bright grin. "Thanks so much for having me over."

"Oh, it's no problem," he replied quickly, reaching an arm around her near the small of her back. Sango grew rather red and waited for the feeling to come, that intrusive feelings when his hand was destined to defile her bottom, but it never arrived. Blinking, the girl found herself walking numbly into the kitchen, Miroku leading her all the way. He hadn't taken advantage of such an opportunity? Despite his good behavior of the past few weeks, Sango figured he would've jumped at the chance to cop a feel in jeans; he seemed to like jeans for some reason. By putting them on in the first place, she was testing him; one misplaced hand, and she was out of there.

"This is Wolfgang," he said, gesturing to a broad backed older man behind the counter; he was dressed in typical white chef's attire and hosted a full head of peppered hair, which splayed out from beneath his hat. "He's out resident cook, and a great one at that."

"Thank you, young Master," the man replied brusquely, a slight German accent shining through his nearly flawless Japanese. "I was born to do nothing else."

"This is Sango, a long time friend of mine," Miroku said with practiced propriety; despite his father's adamant decision to keep work away from the house, Miroku was still well versed in the social mores of his high ranking father's critical world.

Wolfgang cast a sharp black eye over Sango, who offered him a faint smile; he was rather intimidating up close. "It's a pleasure, Miss."

"Oh, no, pleasure's all mine," Sango stuttered out, still unused to the grandeur of Miroku's household.

"What would you like for dinner, Sango? Wolfgang can make anything. And I do mean anything," Miroku said, offering her a reassuring smile. She couldn't help but notice how good looking he was when he smiled, as though he could protect her from the world; funny how a simple smile could project such a feeling, but it wrapped around Sango like a warm blanket and she sighed against it.

"Umm, how about..." she trailed off, not knowing what in the world to ask for. Remembering that Wolfgang was German, she decided to act in his best interest and ask for something familiar to him. "How about something from Germany? I haven't had much German food before and I'm eager to try."

Wolfgang looked, to say the least, incredibly surprised, eyebrows disappearing into his grey black hair almost immediately. "German food? Are you sure, Miss?"

Sango smiled. "Of course! I love trying new things."

As Miroku watched the girl conversing with his chef, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way she interracted with others. He himself didn't have the foresight to ask Wolfgang for something such as that; he asked for things like spaghetti, pizza, hamburgers. It seemed logical that Wolfgang would know quite a bit about German food, wouldn't it? Sango was sensetive to others that way and had been since he'd met her. Perhaps that's what attracted him in the first place. Excluding her unmatchable beauty, of course.

"Very well, Miss. It will be ready in about an hour," Wolfgang said, a hint of a smile creeping across his weathered face.

"Thank you," Sango said, giving him a grateful nod. Miroku, too, gave Wolfgang a nod of recognition before leading Sango towards the carpeted kitchen stairs.

Upstairs, Miroku led Sango out a pair of rodiron gate doors, cast with the print of cherubic angels in their length, onto an outdoor walkway which led away from the main villa towards Miroku's house. It was strange to call it Miroku's house, but Sango noted with some chagrin that his "house" was bigger than her actual house. It was located behind the great expanse of the first mansion, some thirty feet away. Sango enjoyed the warm summer air as it washed over them, playing and tugging at her hair; she'd put it up in its original ponytail, not wanting to get it stuck on something. It was quite long, somewhere past her buttocks, but she didn't have the heart to cut it off. They'd been through so much together, after all.

"Alright," Miroku said as they entered his villa, coming through the door directly into the upstairs living room. "My original plan was to watch a movie, but if you'd rather do something else, that's fine with me."

Sango shook her head. "A movie is fine. What movies do you have?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked," Miroku announced, walking towards a pair of large double doors. "If there's one thing I take pride in, it's my movie collection."

Sango followed him towards the wall, furrowing her brow in confusion. When he threw open the doors, she was no longer confused; before her was a solid wall of nothing but DVDs, organized by title and filling up two seven way shelves. The collection was taller than her and five times as wide; no wonder he took pride in it.

"Wow," she murmured, unable to say anything else as she gazed at the countless choices.

Meanwhile, Miroku was playing a little game with himself, trying to guess which genre Sango would choose from. He pegged her as an action, perhaps sci-fi sort of person, but they'd really never discussed movies before; it simply didn't come up much. Yet, he was surprised to see her pull a movie from the shelf, saying brightly, "I love this movie. It never gets old."

Miroku stared down at the case. "Anchorman? Really? I didn't think you'd be much of a Will Ferrell fan," he conceeded, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"Who said I'm a Will Ferrell fan? I like Steve Carrell," Sango replied saucily, grinning as she waved the movie seductively before his face.

The boy chuckled, grabbing the movie and rolling the case over in his hands. "Well, your wish is my command, Sango."

Sango flopped down easily on the couch, which was red, large, and overstuffed, before kicking off her flip flops; she was at ease around Miroku and comfortable in his house, despite its large and rather frightening nature. Whenever she'd been over before, Miroku had simply taken her to his villa, rather than fight the perils of the main house. She liked it much better this way.

Miroku opened the rather large doors to his big screen television, folding them aside and popping Anchorman into the DVD player. He was still wondering exactly where a person like Sango got off watching a movie like that; to put it plainly, the movie was stupid. Funny, yes, but stupid. He figured she'd be one of its many protestors, but there she was eagerly awaiting its start on the couch; apparently, he had much to learn about Sango Tajiya.

After popping the DVD in the machine, Miroku glanced back at the couch and wondered where to sit. If he sat too close, she would slap him. But if he sat far away, she would wonder what was wrong with him. And if he sat a moderate distance between them, he would feel that helpless need to be near her; he always felt that. Sighing, the boy walked towards her and took a seat about four inches away, allowing for scootage room if she wanted to get away. When she didn't move, Miroku released a sigh and turned his eyes to the screen; he manuevered easily through the DVD menu and, soon enough, the movie was underway.

The two watched and enjoyed themselves, laughing every third line or so; they were helpless against the comic genius that was Anchorman, as everyone is. The movie had just progressed to the rather strange scene involving a few birthing pandas and few rabid hibernating bears when Sango glanced over at Miroku as asked, "What do you think about Inuyasha and Kagome's relationship?"

The question caught Miroku off guard and he blinked; he thought for sure she was totally focused on the movie. "Um...I think somebody needs to make a move," he said finally.

Sango nodded thoughtfully; she was curled up against the couch arm, legs pulled to her chest, and Miroku tried not to stare at her perfect curves. All it took was a wifebeater and some jeans to do him in and now, he was staring at her like the Venus de Milo. Blinking, Miroku shook his head violently and thought of pure things like Jesus, virgins and the leather in a two seater RX-7.

"I agree," Sango said rather suddenly. "I mean, they do the tango the entire day and then just leave! It's bizarre."

"The tango?" Miroku asked, raising a confused eyebrow. "What's that mean?"

The girl paused before saying slowly, "Well...when I think of relationships I think of them like different dances. The tango is all about passion and teasing the other dancer and that's what they're about. See?"

Miroku nodded slowly, narrowing his violet eyes in a concentrated manner. "I think I get what you mean. Do Sesshomaru and Rin have a dance?"

"The waltz, I'd say," Sango said off handedly. "That's for people already in love. And they definitely are, if what I saw this morning was any indication."

Chuckling, Miroku recalled the morning, when Sesshomaru had basically pinned Rin to the refrigerator and had his dirty way with her right in front of the others. They hadn't had sex, obviously, but they certainly were getting, well, heated. "It's love or lust. Or both." Sango giggled; he had a point. "And Ayame and Kouga?"

This took a bit more thought, but Sango finally said, "The mambo. It's all about having fun while being serious...which they do somehow." With its complicated step, the Mambo was almost like a sophisticated ballroom dance with a little bit of life under the feet; this was the way Sango saw Ayame and Kouga. Tasteful, but edgy.

"And...haha, what about Shitora and Ranbou?" Miroku asked with a wolfish grin; their relationship was rather hard to figure out in the first place, nevermind relate to a dance.

But Sango didn't even hesitate. "A war dance. Like when tribes have aggressive dances before they go to war."

This provoked a deep throated laugh from Miroku, one which sent shivers down Sango's spine; really, she loved his laugh, they way it made light of everything but still made her feel wanted. How could one laugh do all that? She wasn't sure, but Miroku was different, that was certain. "How fitting," he murmured. There was a brief silence between them before Miroku lowered his eyebrows and gazed full into Sango's sparkling brown eyes. "And what dance are we?"

Unconciously, a blush rose to Sango's cheeks under his stare and she suddenly felt hot under the collar; his way always did that to her. "Us?" she asked quietly, looking for all the world like a delightfully excited school girl with her innocent face and rosy cheeks.

But Miroku answered his own question. "I think we're the Shiyokumi."

The Shiyokumi was a traditional Japanese dance depicting the story of a war lord and a salt collector. The war lord was riding by the beach when he spotted a beautfiul young woman collecting salt. They fell in love, but could never marry due to their social class differences and so, as a token of his affection, the war lord gave the woman his hat. As far as Miroku saw it, the war lord was in awe of the woman and wondered why they couldn't be of the same world. Love was strange like that.

"The...the Shiyokumi?" Sango asked confusedly, not understanding his comparison.

"One was out of league with the other," he said quietly, leaning forward slightly and closing what little gap their was between them. Their noses were almost touching when he murmured, "Except this time, you're out of my league, not the other way around. And if we were to fall in love...no one could stop us."

And before either could say another word, Miroku leaned forward and captured Sango's lips with his. Sango blinked, wondering what this strange feeling was; Miroku Houshi was kissing her! She should be jerking away and slapping every visible part of him with unmatched rigor! But something within her just couldn't pull away. His lips were so soft, inviting, and she wanted to explore them. Her inner woman screamed and stamped its foot loudly, trying to make her see reason, but Sango would'n't listen. There was nothing reasonable about this...maybe that's why she liked it. Miroku had been nothing but a jerk since the day they'd met, constantly violating her personal space and saying lewd things in her presence. Sure, they were flattering lewd things, but they were lewd all the same. And yet, through all of that, she couldn't hate him; especially recently, he'd been downright tollerable and gentlemenly towards her. What could she possibly do but kiss him back?

Miroku, upon realizing what he'd done, thought for sure that his life was about to end. Any second now, a fist of fury would come descending down upon him, pummeling him out of existence until there was absolutely nothing left but a pile of guts. But somehow, that fist never came and Miroku found himself lost in the mesmerizing heaven of Sango's taste. He realized vaguely that she was kissing him back, not pulling away but actually returning his gesture. Egged on by this, Miroku took the next daring step and snaked his arms around her waist. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. It was rather like a dance, he realized, one move resolved as the other countered.

Eventually, the two of them broke apart, gasping for air and staring at each other with unreadable expressions. Finally, Miroku sighed and said, "God Sango, you don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

"What, kiss me?" Sango asked bewilderdly; she'd always assumed his aspirations concerning her were more untoward than simply kissing.

"Absolutely," came Miroku's quiet reply.

Out of breath and slightly flattered, another pink tinge spread across Sango's face. "Oh. I always thought you...well, I never though through all of this that we...wow."

Miroku chuckled, eyes suddenly darker. "You must think I'm a real letch. Constantly groping you, embarrassing you, making light of how beautiful you are. When really I just wanted to be closer to you. And I got that by becoming your friend instead. I really took the long road."

His words struck a chord in Sango's heart and she smiled faintly, replying, "Yeah, but it was worth it I guess. Kind of like a cold drink after working is so much more refreshing."

"You and your analogies, love," Miroku mumbled, shaking his head slowly. "They never cease to amaze me."

It was a small thing, certainly, but Sango absolutely adored the way her called her "love." She'd never been much for pet names, since "baby" sounded trashy and "sweetie" was too girlish, as was honey. But "love" seemed absolutely perfect for not only her, but also for Miroku. He was classy like that, in a strange way; most of the time, perverts weren't really considered classy, but he wasn't really a pervert anymore, was he? Now he was just Miroku. Her Miroku.

Before she could ponder over her mind's possessive nature, Miroku asked Sango rather casually, "I know this might be out of order with what we just did, but will you go out with me, Sango?"

Sango couldn't help but laugh at the awkward expression on Miroku's face and she replied nodding, "Yes, Miroku. I will."

The boy blinked, all life gone from his face. She said yes. The woman of his dreams had just said yes to his proposal of going out. And here he thought she would tell him it was "going to fast" or "she didn't feel anything in the kiss." But he had certainly felt something in that kiss, so why shouldn't she, right? Or wrong? Miroku's head was an absolute jumble of thoughts before it dawned on him: she returned his feelings.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, leaping up from the couch and doing an arm pump of triumph. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Sango followed Miroku's movement as he danced his way across the room, thanking all things holy that she had accepted his offer. After a while, she got a rather naughty grin on her face and rose smoothly from her seat, walking in a cat-like fashion to the corner where Miroku was doing a jig of happiness. She took hold of one of his arms, pulling her around the face her, before leaning in to press their bodies together. "Miroku, don't ignore me."

And with this, Sango instigated their second kiss, this one a bit more raw and passionate. Miroku noticed rather blithely that Sango's hair was still up in a ponytail and, realizing that she was now his girlfriend, he reached up and pulled the rubber band from its place, leaving her hair to fall about her in a cascading brown wave. As he ran his fingers through her hair, Miroku moaned and sent shivers down Sango's spine. This was true ecstasy.

Eventually, Sango leaned back slightly, cocking her head to the side. "What do you think the others will say?"

Blinking, Miroku tried to categorize his thoughts after that absolutely heart stopping kiss. "Well, the girls will get all squealy and the guys'll probably just ask me when I'm going to do you. That's the way it works, you know?"

Sango laughed at his honest statement, not at all offended since she'd seen it all happen more than once. "Ha, your right. What if we just didn't tell them and waited for them to figure it out?"

This suggestion brought a smile to Miroku's face and he cocked an eyebrow slyly. "Why Sango, what an intriguing proposition! I think Inuyasha will be the first to notice, being my best friend and all."

Sango snorted. "Inuyasha? He can't even open his eyes about his own relationship, nevertheless ours. No, I bet Ayame will notice first."

The boy stared blankly at his girlfriend, whose arms were still around his waist. "Ayame? I always thought she was more...mechanical than romantic. I think..." He trailed off, leaving Sango to roll her eyes at his comment.

"That's what everyone thinks. But she and Kouga are the most astute out of everyone, except for maybe Sesshomaru. They'll be the first to notice for sure. Sesshomaru just wouldn't say anything, so we'd never know," Sango said.
"What do you say we rise the stakes, love?" Miroku asked, cocky smile causing Sango's heart to swell with affection.

"Oh? Tell me more," she murmured, giggling at the thought of a bet; she could never turn them down and Miroku was perfectly aware of this.

"I say Inuyasha finds out first and you say Ayame. So whoever loses has to..." Miroku trailed off, not sure what to offer as a prize.

"Has to clean the other's car in a bathing suit. While the other watches," Sango interjected, evil smirk set firmly on her curvy lips.

At the prospect of a wet, half naked Sango rubbing a sponge along the window of his car, Miroku bit back a groan and murmured, "God, yes."

Sango lowered her eyebrows, leaning in so that there lips were nearly touching. "And the game is on." With that, Sango pulled him in for their third kiss of the evening, surprised at how much she liked kissing Miroku. Sure, she'd kissed people before, but it was nothing like this. And damn her if she wasn't happier now than she had been in a long time.

I tried to make Sango and Miroku believable, but if they weren't, I'm sorry. Everyone saw it coming for a while, right? I mean, I've never been too good at them, unfortunately. But I gave it an honest effort; hope I satisfied everyone. Thanks to all for their reviews! Love!

KOLU










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