InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lemonade, Too ❯ Sex, Fries and Videotape ( Chapter 17 )

 

 

Lemonade, Too

 

By Fujifunmum

 

 

Chapter 17: Sex, Fries and Videotape

 

 

Sango dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She was still wiped out from the non-stop programming and data entry she had done for Yash and Kagome. She was worried that she'd have dark circles under her eyes for her own wedding! It was already Wednesday, and she and Miroku were getting married on Friday night. That reality was hitting her hard as she quickly dressed in jeans and a textless T-shirt. She couldn't take her eyes off her wedding dress long enough to get her belt through her belt loops. It hung there, fresh, altered and ready to slip into day after tomorrow. Thank God she had done the final fitting last week. Kagome's dress still needed a final fitting - but she had no idea if Yash would even let her come to the wedding if Toukijin was still out there somewhere waiting to greet them.

 

She rolled her eyes and unzipped the protective covering to reach in and finger the white silk satin. It was beautiful. It was formal - and yet not stuffy. It made her feel like an adult playing dress up - and it scared her to death. She withdrew her hand and zipped up the cover. She didn't have time to have wedding jitters right now. She needed to help the others find that lunatic sword. Or did she need to help the lunatics find the other sword? Whatever.

 

She printed off her share of the list of contacts and scanned it and the addresses as she grabbed a quick bite of lunch. That Asshole Yash was treating her like a little girl again. She hated that. What the hell was she doing with all the Valley Girls? No grown up names. No challenging addresses. No reason not to find a way to really get him for this!

 

She grabbed her sunglasses and left her apartment. Uptown, downtown, all around LA there were addresses on her list. Most of them in better neighborhoods with finely manicured lawns.

 

 

Miroku left the house feeling more than a little apprehensive. He knew of Kikyo mostly from what invective Yash had heaped on her and the sad looks in her sister's eyes when bad things happened. He was not certain how to approach the Miko's older sister, or whether she would even agree to speak to him, let alone look at the list. The first problem was how to find her. Kaede had given him some suggested locations, but there was no guarantee that she would be at any of them. Just as there was no guarantee they would be able to locate all of the possible suspects. All he knew for sure was that he had to try.

 

He drove off to the first potential location with some trepidation. While he found a parking place, his cell phone went off and he thought it would probably be Yash, but it was Sango.

 

“Miroku! I got the list and I'm heading out to get started. Where are you?”

 

“Doing the same, babe. Following Herr Yash's orders. He's being his usual self. No surprise there.” Miroku stuck to generalities intentionally; he did not want her to know that he was in such a seedy neighborhood or she might worry. If she knew he was looking for Kikyo, she would be very worried. She might even try to come with him. That would not help. From what little he knew of Kikyo, she did not respond well to other women - especially cute ones.

 

“Let's hope we can track down most of these possibilities and exclude them right away. Yash thinks we can cover the whole list today.”

 

“Yash thinks with his dick. He's got his head so far up his ass right now he wouldn't know the sunshine if it bit him.” Sango was apparently not ready to forgive Yash for whatever it was she was peeved with him about this time. “You realize, Miroku, my soon-to-be husband, that I am using my hard earned vacation time that I took to prepare for our wedding in two days to hunt down what looks to me to be a list of cheerleaders?”

 

Miroku smirked, but wisely kept all laughter out of the sound of his voice as he replied. “We know you have a way with people, Sango. You can find out if those girls know anything about the sword, saw anyone with it, or saw anyone remove it from the set of the video shoot or not. Just turn on that charm you use when you need to get something. They'll tell you and you can cross them off the list. That's our real goal here, to eliminate as many innocents from the list as quickly as we can.”

 

“Innocents? I highly doubt that. You should see what these hot babes are wearing to high school.” There was a long pause. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn't. I'll check in with you if I find anything.”

 

“Check in often, Sango, whether you find anything or not. We need to stay in close contact in case one of us finds something. Will you call Shippou? Get him to check in with us, too.”

 

“No problem, Miroku mine, I already talked to Shippou. He's the sane demon on this hunt, you know.”

 

Miroku just laughed. It was good to laugh about something, anything, under the circumstances.

 

“The sooner we find the sword and contain it, the sooner it's all about you and me, Sango, my butterfly-to-be.”

 

“Promise, promises.” Sango hung up on him, but Miroku knew she was smiling.

 

Miroku put his cell phone away and headed for one of several “places”, a/k/a “corners” that Kaede had suggested he look for Kikyo. She knew how to make herself scarce, and she also knew the sword was missing. Who knew if she would co-operate or make things worse? Sometimes she seemed to do both.

 

Three stops later, he let out a sigh as he got out of his car. This was also a rundown neighborhood, but it didn't look like he needed a bodyguard just to navigate the streets. He walked quickly through the seedy area, knowing it was hardly this deserted at night. Then it would be busy with both customers and peddlers of all the sins of the flesh. Now it was all barred and chained pawn shops, second hand stores, and a token Starbucks.

 

That was where he found her, sipping a double latte mocha whatever while she perched on a chair, looked bored and attracted as much attention as possible in her signature leathers. This time the black mini skirt was matched with a black bustier that was laced with red velvet ribbons. Her thigh high boots were definitely made for walkin' and her long coat was sitting on the chair next to her, hiding none of her charms. She was looking above it all and distracted, yet at the same time her reflexes seemed stretched to the limit. She was perched, but ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. She was as skittish as a cat on the outside, but underneath, she seemed as dangerous as a gargoyle come to life, with better weapons.

 

“Kikyo, may I join you?” Miroku put on his best manners, his most winning smile, and his most sincere tone of voice. He expected nothing, but was encouraged and tentatively surprised when she merely ignored his presence. He sat down across from her, carefully folding his hands on table before her. It wouldn't do to have the powerful miko think he had anything but talking in mind here.

 

“May I ask you a few questions about the sword? Kaede made an interesting suggestion about it and I'd like to follow up with you if I could.” He tried to keep his face neutral and his demeanor pleasant. She frowned when he mentioned Kaede. Maybe that had been a mistake. He continued, hoping she would listen and help. “Toukijin may be a famous sword of legend, but it is not particularly well known nowadays, and the connection between it and Yash is shrouded in history. Even among demon circles, it is considered more mythical than an object to be “acquired”. He paused, wondering if he dared to go get a cup of coffee himself. He couldn't risk it; she would probably take the opportunity to leave.

 

“Under the circumstances,” the dire circumstances, “and considering that you told Yash that neither you nor Naraku have it,” which I'm only accepting as true for the moment, “it seems like someone must have told the thief about the sword. Perhaps it was someone who knew about it from personal experience rather than from legend.” Most likely someone who looked like a hooker taking a break from a music video shoot.

 

Kikyo's expression remained the same. He was beginning to wonder if she ever smiled, or laughed, or enjoyed her deathly existence at all.

 

“We have a list of possibilities who might have taken it. Would you look at it for me and see if you recognize any of the names?” He very slowly and carefully took the list from the pocket of his shirt, and laid it on the table between them. She made no move to take it; she had not yet deigned to acknowledge his presence at her table, let alone agreed to his request.

 

“Neither Kaede nor I know any of the names. You know Yash and his brother wouldn't talk about the sword to anyone, especially each other. I seriously doubt Shippou had even heard of it before this. That leaves you and Naraku.” Doesn't it always? “Naraku seems even less likely to talk about it than Yash. We did not think that you would be given to talking about it either, but at least we could ask you.” Without risking our lives. Maybe.

 

“Please help us confine this evil. If only because then you and Naraku would know where it was to attempt to steal it again!” His voice didn't rise, but even he could hear the pleading in it. She was an enigma, this undead Miko. There was no telling if she even wanted it confined.

 

He waited. He watched her sip her coffee as she continued to ignore him. Paying him no more mind than the stares of all the men who entered and eyed her and the glares of all the women. She seemed completely oblivious to him and her surroundings.

 

Suddenly, she set down her cup and extended a very long and manicured nail to tap three times on the folded list between them.

 

“There is no need, Monk.” She paused and he waited. “I spoke with only three men about the sword. Two of them you know: Naraku and Yash. One of them was totally by chance.” Again she paused. Neither her expression nor her eyes had changed during this exchange. She looked as impassive and detached as ever. Yet, she was co-operating in her own way.

 

When she made no move to continue, he spoke.

 

“And the third man?”

 

Her eyes cast their gaze downward, as if the coffee was the most interesting thing in the place and not the dead tart herself.

 

“A customer.” Her eyes met his again, with absolutely no indication that she cared one whit for his opinion or approval. “A diversion. A brilliant and flawed man with a penchant for numbers, light sabers and sex.”

 

“Who? Where can I find him?”

 

She made him wait. He could tell without a doubt that this was what she did with all men - made them wait for something they wanted. Whether it was sex or information did not seem to matter for her. There seemed to be something in the discomfiture of others that registered with her - made her feel better, alive, something. Her eyes hardened as she saw the pity creeping into his. That was not what she craved. She began to gather her coat. He knew she was leaving and had stopped caring if she helped contain the sword or not.

 

He was tempted to try to stop her, but did not. His magic was old and strong. Hers was older and stronger.

 

“Please, Miko. Have a care for the innocents you know Toukijin will kill. This man is not Sesshomaru. He cannot stand again the evil of the sword, be he human or demon.” It was only the truth. Perhaps that was all he had to offer her.

 

She stopped in her path to the door. She stopped past his chair, but not past his hearing. “Human. The man is no demon. He is called The Reaper. I don't know his real name, I never cared to ask. Try the Kinky Kats Korner.”

 

And she was gone.

 

Miroku went back to his car. He thought he would see her in the street when he left, but he did not. He could only hope that her information was sincere; that she was not sending him on a wild goose chase while she went after the sword herself. At this point he had nothing to lose by believing her.

 

 

Yash was cutting a swath through the demon strongholds of LA like the Lawnmower Man on drugs. All the subtlety of his usual investigations was on vacation this time. This time, the search was personal; much too personal.

 

He visited all the current demon “hot spots”; all the hottest workout spas and gyms, plus the trendiest places for lunch and afternoon intrigue. He left more than a few feathers ruffled and several broken bones for demons who did not “reply” quick enough to his barked out demands. He was a dog on a mission and had run through most of the names on his list within the next four hours.

 

Each time he called home to check on Kagome, Kaede had answered and insisted they were working or Kagome was resting and that he focus on his job and let them focus on theirs. Like that mattered. He would just pocket his cell and move on to the next address.

 

 

Miroku reached the Kinky Kats Korner as quickly as he could with LA traffic. It was located near the University, of course. Close to the major customers: Phd candidates with esoteric interests and geeks employed by start-ups and other high tech companies that tended to cluster in the University corridor. He snapped his cell phone to his belt - quite appropriate to the company he was about to keep. He put on his Neo shades and headed into the bar.

 

The lights were slightly on the low side, but not by regular watering hole standards; not at all. This was definitely a place to see and be seen, but not by the usual entertainment/media community. No, this community was much smaller and just as hard to break into. The intelligentsia in residence here could not be more unconcerned with your appearance. Dressing well was largely something that seemed to happen by accident or the assistance of a well intended but misguided woman. The place was not exclusively male, just predominantly. He snorted as he realized that nearly everyone here looked in his direction as he entered, then just as quickly they looked away. Most likely each one had computed the probability of the next entrant being male or female and now they were just refueling their internal database.

 

He walked over to the bar and took a seat next to a man who appeared to be around his age. He thought he might have seen him on campus in the past, and wondered what kind of small talk might open a door in this place.

 

“Wonder if the Santa Anas will be brutal this year?” He smiled absently in the man's direction. The weather was a safe topic, wasn't it?

 

“Simulations using the MM5 mesoscale model using initial boundary information from the NCEP Eta model indicate a high probability of substantially similar results to last year.” The man neither looked in his direction nor smiled. Not that Miroku expected the social graces to flow in this place.

 

“Aaa…..my readings were the same. I was hoping to find the Reaper and check with him. Have you seen him today?” Might as well go for the gold. It's not like this dude knew how to engage in small talk. Miroku was increasingly afraid that he didn't know how to engage in much of any talk in English that wasn't filled with techno-speak. At least this response seemed to get his attention.

 

The guy was fairly ordinary looking, youngish with dark rimmed glasses and a crooked shirt collar. He seemed clean, if disheveled, and was irritated by the interruption from whatever he was reading on his screen. A glance in that direction determined that he was studying graphs of some description, with symbols and acronyms that were not any that Miroku was familiar with, except for the ucla in the url.

“It depends entirely on the surface temperature, wind velocity and the near-surface relative humidity for the domain. The Reaper's opinion is irrelevant.” The man then turned away, muttering under is breath, “….not that he would see it that way.”

Miroku took his last muttered statement to mean that the man knew the Reaper, if not by name, at least by reputation. He ordered a soft drink from the barkeep, noticing that he was no stranger to the pocket protector set either. He thought there was a noticeable lack of women working in the place, but then he was here between lunch and dinner, so that might only mean the staffing was light at the moment. He sipped a bit of his drink and answered the fourth call from Yash to report that everything was going well - a lie, but a good one. Returning his cell to his belt clip, after turning it off completely, he turned once again to his brooding partner at the bar.

The guy was very intent on his computer screen, typing with frantic precision and speed. Miroku glanced at it again and did not understand enough of the markings on the graph to even know what the subject matter was. Instead he decided to try another approach. There seemed to be no love lost between Mr. Santa Ana and The Reaper, so he decided to see if he could use that to his advantage.

“Aaa…The Reaper was supposed to meet me here for something of a philosophical discussion. Being a seminary student myself, I thought perhaps it was time I helped him count just how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. The last answer the turkey posted in his blog was clearly wrong by the majority, if not all, of the interpretations in the literature.” Miroku took another sip and paused for just a few moments before meeting his bar friend's waiting eyes. He could feel the chill in the “near-surface” atmosphere dissipating rapidly.

Mr. Santa Ana's eyes were shining with hope and a newfound interest. Miroku tried not to overplay his hand.

“Thing is, I don't know what the guy looks like. Until today, we've just been sparring partners in our blogs.” He kept his tone casual and conversational, making sure he didn't attach any undue importance to his offhand reference. If the guy was half as geeky as he looked, he'd launch into Mr. Answer Man Mode any moment. Hopefully.

The guy actually took the earplug for his ipod nano out of his ear. He was wearing it's blue holster on his arm. Too bad it was over a dress shirt. Miroku resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and forced himself to wait patiently. If this guy was going to give up the goods, he had to let him do it in his own geeky fashion.

“What time was he due here?” It was an innocent question, but a trick one in this place. Miroku's senses were tingling. This guy might even have some youkai in his ancestry. He was clueless - but very smart and as wary as any other quary. There was nothing for it, Miroku would have to punt. He had no idea what the Reaper's habits were. He knew a couple of geeks who were textbook illustrations of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but since he had his own idiosyncrasies, so he decided to wing it.

“The Reaper wasn't specific. `This afternoon' was all he said in his message.” Miroku turned to look at Mr. Santa Ana. He decided to play this out to the fullest. “I thought I'd get here early and see if he turned up.” He paused to shrug his shoulders with exaggerated meaning. “He might not even show.”

If that didn't get Mr. Answer Man talking, nothing would.

The guy burst out laughing. “Right. No way. He's usually in here by now.” Then he laughed some more. This man clearly marched and laughed to the beat of his own drum. “Come to think of it, he's been scarce this week. He wasn't in here yesterday at all.”

So which is it, Mr. Santa Ana? Is he coming or not? And describe the son of a bitch for me! Miroku was trying to keep his cool but this guy was trying his patience. He was going to have to admit to Yash that he hadn't checked ANYONE on his share of the list soon. If he didn't have anything to show for it, he might need to hide behind both Kaede and Kagome when he went back to the beach house. Especially now that he'd made that fatal decision: turning off his cell phone.

“Yeah, the guy is nearly always here, but not yesterday. Or today.” Then he replaced his ipod earplug, checked the time on his screen and snapped his laptop shut. “Got a class to teach. If The Reaper shows up, you'll know it's him by his loud mouth. The guy never shuts up.” He got off his bar stool and stood. Miroku feared he wasn't going to continue, but he knew silent expectation was his best and only hope.

“He's about six foot three, dark hair, horn rimmed glasses - so thick you know he can't wear contacts - and dresses like a dork. Thin. Look in the dictionary under officious. His picture is there.” He started off. “Oh, and he's a Star Wars freak. He can't decide if he's Obi Wan reincarnated or Darth Mal. A real nutcase.”

Now that Mr. Santa Ana was on his way out the door, Miroku rolled his eyes and exhaled a painful sigh. A sword freak. That was just what they needed.

Once he was sure Mr. Santa Ana wasn't coming back for anything, he asked the barkeep where he could find the Men's room. Not that there wasn't a huge sign for a in the only hallway leading to the back. The point was to make sure the bartender knew he was coming back. He pointed the way with a raised eyebrow, and Miroku just looked chagrin and ordered another soda and some fries.

He headed out the back door without anyone the wiser, and retrieved his laptop from his car. He needed to camp out here, just in case The Reaper turned up, but he also needed to check in and do some work while he waited. Turning on his cell seemed a little too dangerous at the moment. Yash storming in here to kick ass and take names would not help find The Reaper and could make sure they never found him.

Miroku set up his laptop and reluctantly pulled out his cell. It was time to ask Shippou and Sango to cover his list. He'd let Yash know…..eventually. Hopefully Sango and Shippou could handle it. It was bound to be a race against Yash's ability to get a call in before he finished texting them. He took a deep breath, wiped his palms on his pants, and turned on the phone, beginning to text Sango as soon as the service came up. His message was short and anything but sweet. Next he sent a text message to Shippou, glad for once that someone, who had no patience whatsoever, had claws instead of fingernails. That might slow him down enough. Once the messages were sent, he flipped off his phone and turned his attention to his browser. It was time to do a little reconnaissance on The Reaper. If he was as much of a braggart as Santa Ana insisted, Miroku should be able to find something on him.

The bartender brought over his soda and fries. Miroku smiled his thanks and gave him a big tip. He might as well make friends with the guy, he'd probably be here for the rest of the afternoon; maybe longer.

Kaede woke Kagome after only about an hour. Once the boys had left the two Mikos alone to work, she and Kagome had concentrated on breathing exercises and focusing within. Kagome would need that skill if she was to be able to utilize the power of the Shikon jewel to supplement her own considerable powers. She also needed it to be able to focus her concentration to consolidate and strengthen her own magic. Fortunately, those same skills would allow her to relax, even in the face of the visions that had already robbed her of so much sleep. She needed to rest, so when she drifted off after about forty-five minutes of good, solid effort, Kaede let her sleep.

The older Miko had a lot to think about. She sat on the deck outside of Kagome's bedroom, with more than some of her inner vision watching out for her sleeping student. She was very unsettled by the thought that Kikyo might have had something more to do with this than they had already discovered. It was bad enough that she had tried to steal the sword for Naraku, but what if she had let something slip to the person who had the sword? There was no way to know if she had been involved without asking her, and no guarantee that if she was asked she would answer. It was certainly better for Miroku to inquire rather than Yash. Sadly, it was also better than if she had spoken to her own sister. Kikyo had made it clear that she wanted little or nothing to do with her only living family.

Kaede sipped some coffee and tried to let the sound of the sea against the sand lead her mind to where it ought to go. While the sea grass blew in the gentle breeze, she let her mind flow and relaxed from her own over-thinking about it. The magic she wove, if it could help her, would do so in its own time; in its own way.

She went into the house and woke Kagome.

“Time to do more work on accessing your powers, Kagome. We do not have much time left.”

Indeed, the afternoon was slipping away and they were no closer to retrieving the sword than they had been this morning.

“Let's work on touching the jewel with your mind. In its current pure state, that may help us in defending against Toukijin, and could even help us to find it.” If the fangs of Yash's father were sensitive to it, and Kagome could channel the power of the jewel - they might be able to find and contain it. Kaede was pleased with Kagome's progress, but she was very much afraid that it might be too little, too late. Kagome was so strong - but she didn't know it yet, and wouldn't unless they could devise some way for her to test and gain confidence in her powers. Kaede decided to think on that. It seemed that Kagome was not the only one with more work to do this afternoon.

 

“I've done that once before, Kaede,” Kagome breathed, trying to stay within her relaxing trance as she spoke.

 

“When, child?” Kaede was encouraged. If Kagome had already taped into the power of the jewel, their work might move along much faster.

 

Kagome opened her eyes. She looked deeply into Kaede's, willing her not to delve too deeply into what she was about to divulge. “It was in Minnesota, during the Marking. I used it to combine our auras, to keep them from combusting.” Kagome's pause was significant, but she knew that Kaede needed to know more. “It generated something of a tsunami of psychic energy, Kaede. The jewel is pure, but it's power is unsable.” Or perhaps it is the wielder that is unstable. Kagome was not sure at this point.

 

“Aaa….” Kaede nodded in understanding. It was dangerous to use, but she had already known that. This was, overall, good news. Her mind raced with new ways she might be able to both speed Kagome's training and devise some tests that would demonstrate her power, without alarming her.

 

 

Miroku had just finished reading what he believed was The Reaper's blog. It fit pretty well with what little he did know about this guy and his life in the geek lane. He talked some about his job - not very much, it was probably either classified or concerned with trade secrets. Mostly it was full of right wing politics and ranting about government spending and Big Government. He mentioned his favorite “watering hole” and Miroku recognized it immediately as the Kinky Kats Korner. There couldn't be TWO places like this!

 

He looked around and it was very clear exactly which of the bar stools next to him might has well have been posted with a sign: The Reaper sits here, pontificates here, graces everyone with the benefit of his opinions here, and insults anyone lame enough to disagree with him here. The old blood stains on the floor were a dead giveaway.

 

Still, Miroku was convinced that he had not found all of the information to be found on The Reaper. This blog appeared to be the “public” know-it-all one. Where was the one that talked about his obsession with Star Wars and swords? Where were the entries expressing his lust for Kikyo? For a guy like this, Kikyo must have been a wet dream come true. Women had to find out you were smart and had a great job and money before they wanted to glom on to it. With The Reaper, it would be pretty hard to tell, if his blog was any indication.

 

As the afternoon wore into evening, Miroku kept up the same pretense he'd used with Mr. Santa Ana with each new occupant of the neighboring bar stools. Soon everybody in the place knew he was waiting for The Reaper. Miroku had mixed feelings about that. It was drawing a little too much attention to him, but it also was giving him more than one opinion on the arrogance of the Reaper. The Reaper thought everybody was entitled to his opinion, and most of the patrons of the Kinky Kats Korner did not seem to appreciate it.

 

The regulars at the place didn't like his political rants, his outspoken opinions and they weren't too crazy about his singing either. Evidently, you could tell when The Reaper had one too many by his propensity for singing jazz standards a cappella off key. Nobody knew his real name or where he worked other than “around here somewhere”. He got a little bit more information on his appearance, but the short nondescript hair was no surprise. Neither was the fact that he wasn't ever seen here with a member of the opposite sex; or even a member of the same sex, for that matter.

 

Just when Miroku was convinced he'd learned everything he could without the guys showing up himself, the latest occupant of the next bar stool noticed his screen on one of the major blog sites. He pointed at it, asking if Miroku had his blog there. Before Miroku even had a chance to answer, the guy kept on talking and Miroku listened avidly as he explained how The Reaper had his ordinary blog for anyone to read there, but his really interesting blog was on a foreign site that catered to “more specialized” tastes.

 

Miroku just gestured towards his keyboard, and the guy obliged him by pulling up the url.

 

“There you go, buddy. Just don't let the guy catch you reading it. He thinks it's all encrypted and protected and such. Idiot. Like most of us in here couldn't hack his brains out if we cared.” The guy finished up his drink and left, winking at Miroku and looking very pleased with himself.

 

Miroku started to read and knew he'd found the motherlode. Here it was. There were links to his research on the heat properties of light sabers - with different findings and conclusions for single versus double bladed ones. There were more links to theoretical and quantum physics implications of an early development of a warp drive. Another cache of links led to sites discussing all things samurai and the ancient art of Japanese sword smithing. He was clearly obsessed with swords. Just the sight of Kikyo must have sent him into flights of fantastic ectasy.

 

The links on the spiritual nature of the relationship between the samurai and his blade, or the smith and the blade he forged, were mystical and interesting - but frightening in this context.

 

Then there were the kinky sexual sites. Miroku took his time sorting through all of them. He needed to be thorough, didn't he?

February 2, 2006