InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Smirking Revenge ❯ Meet Trouble ( Chapter 10 )

It was the last Sunday in November. The air was a nippy 6 degrees, the sky was grey and overcast, the wind bitter but Inuyasha Takahashi was - dare he say it? - happy. His golden eyes watched a small scattering of snow flurries descend from the clouds and dance momentarily upon the back of the wind before meeting their untimely demise upon the cement sidewalk below.

 

Beneath the fedora that took up permanent residence atop his head, two white, furry dog ears twitched and turned towards the sound of Paul McCartney's latest adult contemporary melody pumping through the ceiling speakers. It was definitely not to his taste. Neither was the overpriced, hoity-toity American coffee shop he sat in, but it was her thing so he went along with it. The chairs were nice though, he remarked as he eased back into an oversized, tan, butter soft leather lounger.

 

Unfortunately, not even the comfiest chair could rid him of the painful knot that'd taken up residence between his shoulder blades. He shifted uncomfortably for the tenth time in as many minutes, bashing his knee against the too small table in front of him in the process. He cursed violently under his breath before finally giving up. His eyes narrowed at the lacquered wooden table that'd been his nemesis since he'd first sat down and he seriously considered using his claws to turn it into toothpicks.

 

He'd been irritable all morning. He hadn't been able to shake the sense of…well…unease would probably be the best word to describe it, that'd followed him since the moment they'd left her apartment. He felt it acutely between his shoulder blades, like a dull knife sticking out of his back; the piercing feeling of a pair of eyes following his every move. If he'd been a dog his hackles would be up, but as a half demon he couldn't do much more than twitch in his seat, take quick glances over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed, and look preoccupied while searching the street for potential stalkers from the comfort of a lounger.

 

Well, if he was being followed it was his own damn fault for letting his attention slip. Being with the girl had made him complacent and careless. He'd let his somewhat obsessive compulsive habits fall to the wayside in favour of more pleasant activities like coffee dates and sex. Lots of sex…not that he was complaining about the sex of course! He rather liked the whole sex part but it was making him lose focus and if he didn't get back on track it would come back to bite him in the ass.

 

His eyes began a second sweep of the street, having not found anything substantial the first time around. There was an old man curled over his walking stick moving at a snail's pace through the intersection, a bike messenger darting through traffic, and a business man picking his nose at the stoplight. There was nothing out there to justify his uneasiness, yet he couldn't convince himself he was being irrational. The tranquil peace that'd greeted him upon waking up with Kagome's warm, soft body in his arms was completely shattered and his good mood along with it. The air all around him felt charged with anticipation, the way a forest stands still before a storm.

 

He wasn't all that surprised he was being followed…hell he kind of expected it. He was actually a touch disappointed it'd taken someone this long to put a hit out on him. You just don't work nearly ten years in Homicide without making a few dozen enemies. He was mildly curious who it was, but in the end it didn't really matter. Whoever the bastard was, he'd be dead the moment he got sloppy.

 

It was the girl who was a problem now. If it came down to an ambush or a gun battle, there was no way he could keep her from getting caught up in the crossfire. In all honestly, the safest place for her was as far away from him as possible. He'd been chewing over that unappealing thought for the better part of the past hour. He knew he should probably mention something to her but his better judgement advised against it and for just this once he happened to agree with it. It was bad enough he was a walking paranoid, he didn't need to be dating one as well. He'd worked too damn hard to get this far to lose whatever happiness they'd found together because of some slimy con bastard who thought he had the balls to shoot a cop.

 

On top of that, as if shit wasn't bad enough, his night of weakness was coming up fast. Rubbing a hand over the stubbly growth along his chin he pondered that particular conundrum. He hadn't told her about his night of weakness yet either and was debating whether he should bother. It would be a heck of a lot easier to just avoid her for that night, tell her he had plans, was working late or some other lame excuse. It would save him the awkwardness of having to explain the whys and hows of it all. Plus there was the whole trust issue to consider.

 

If word got out and into the wrong hands it could destroy him, which was exactly why he hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. As far as he was concerned, the secret died with his parents a decade ago. Though he was finally starting to trust the girl, his jaded heart wasn't convinced he could trust her enough. She was a journalist after all! Digging up dark secrets and divulging them to the world as front page news was practically second nature to them. Why would she be any different? She was driven and utterly focused on her career, her thirst for success was part of her charm but it forced him to keep her at a distance.

 

Landing a big scoop would propel her to instant fame in the world of press junkies and journalists. The question was how bad did she want it? Bad enough to betray him? He wasn't sure…and until he was sure, he couldn't risk it. Not with this, not with details about the cases he was working on, nothing. Then again…it wasn't like she'd asked. She'd never breathed a word that could've been construed as an attempt to dig for clues and she rarely asked him anything personal. He knew he was being overly cautious, a bit obsessive even, but he'd been burned before and he didn't plan on letting it happen again.

 

Inuyasha snapped out of his dark reverie as soon as he caught sight of the object of his thoughts strutting towards him. Shooting him a warm smile, she set a venti sized coffee cup on the table in front of him and settled herself into the oversized chair across from him. With a delicate sigh she meticulously picked an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt before taking a long sip from her steaming cup. Inuyasha stared suspiciously at the cup in front of him, his eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

 

“Just try it,” she interjected before he had the opportunity to object and turned her attention to the street, her dark eyes darting to follow a neon clad bike messenger winding his way through traffic.

 

This was her favourite spot. Whenever she needed to think she would come to this coffee shop, order herself a venti cup of Jasmine tea and sit in front of this very window. She often looked to the comings and goings of the street for inspiration when she had to write a particularly challenging piece. Sometimes it was even nicer to just relax and take a step back from it all.

 

Her eyes watched intently as Inuyasha took a tentative sip from his cup. Even in the grey afternoon light his casual confidence had her heart fluttering. It was truly amazing what a shower and laying off the booze could do for a person. She was glad she had a chance to bring him here. It was almost like being a kid again and sharing your secret fort with a new friend. It was just a coffee shop, and there were dozens exactly like it strewn throughout the neighbourhood, but it was her coffee shop. She was letting him borrow it, letting him step into her secret club house so to speak, even if it was only for a little while. Her club house had been empty of other members for far too long.

 

As Inuyasha swallowed the coffee and nodded towards her appreciatively, she felt a satisfied smile tug at her lips. She'd wondered while placing the order if she still remembered how he took it, but as it turned out her memory was bang on. She'd always figured him to be a Sumatra kind of guy - intense and earthy; complimented by one milk and one and a half sugars; just enough to take the edge off but not enough to be sweet.

 

It was so like him - a little rough around the edges but hidden inside was something sweet. Not that she'd exactly seen this sweet side…he was just less of a jerk…sometimes…but she was certain it was there somewhere, hiding deep, deep down in the recesses of his dark, lonely, little heart.

 

Setting her tea down on the checkerboard tabletop, Kagome folded her hands and fixed him with a pleasant smile, the kind that said she was preparing to ask him for something he would probably rather gouge his eyeballs out with forks than do willingly.

 

“Say Inuyasha…” her voice was sugary sweet and his ears flattened immediately against his head. Coming from her it sounded so wrong, like hearing a 400 lb Sumo wrestler ask for a diet Coke. He hadn't a clue where this was going but he was already pretty certain he wanted nothing to do with it. He grunted in a half-assed attempt to make it look like he was paying attention and let his gaze drift back to the street.

 

He heard her sigh in mild frustration at his obvious lack of interest and felt a momentary pang of guilt. Sometimes he was probably a little harder on her than he meant to be, but he knew she could handle it. Otherwise, what the hell was she doing with him? Not wanting to dwell on that particular question he quickly erased all thought of it with another sip of piping hot coffee.

 

“Since it's only a few weeks before Christmas…” she continued in that same sing song voice, “Do you think that maybe we could-,”

 

“No.” Inuyasha interjected abruptly, levelling her with a face that said loud and clear `Under NO circumstances will I EVER go Christmas shopping with you!'

 

“What do you mean no? You don't even know what I'm going to ask!” she demanded haughtily. Her manicured fingers made impatient circles around the rim of her cup and she lifted a contentious eyebrow at his dour expression. The fingernails of her free hand clicked loudly against the lacquered tabletop. She did that last bit just to irritate him, the sound drove him nuts.

 

“I don't do holidays,” he muttered gruffly, shooting daggers at her clacking fingernails with his eyes. With a huff he retreated further into his leather jacket to avoid her piercing gaze.

 

“What a surprise.” Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes he was almost TOO predictable. The bad boy with nobody in the world but himself boycotting holidays because they remind him of the family he didn't have. Kami, it was like reading the poorly written script of a TV Movie!

 

“You don't need to bite my head off! I was only going to say that since it feels like this city's been taken over by the holiday brigade we should get out of town for the weekend, maybe go up to Hokkaido or something. I hear it's really nice up there this time of year.”

 

“That sounds…nice,” the Detective found himself muttered begrudgingly. The idea was appealing - escaping away to a private chalet up on Hokkaido Island without a care in the world sounded pretty fucking amazing at the moment. It would be a chance to get out of the city and away from the nagging feeling of being followed at least. It was also the perfect opportunity to get her out of those bothersome clothes.

 

At least he'd be honest with her about one thing today - holidays weren't his thing. Christmas and New Years generally consisted of a bottle of JD and a week's worth of vacation spent lost in an alcohol induced haze. After his parents died there was no one left to celebrate the holidays with. The Christmas after that he'd been shot point blank in the chest and spent the better part of six weeks recovering in the hospital.

 

He'd convinced himself rather easily after that that the holidays were a waste of time and money. He wanted nothing to do with the lot of them. And just like with everything else in his life, being with Kagome had made him start to question how he was living. She brought back wisps of memories from times long ago when he'd actually looked forward to the holidays, with their good food, great friends and fun times. The memories, as distant as they seemed, warmed him and he wondered silently if there would ever be a day when he didn't loathe them. Glancing at the girl out of the corner of his eye he couldn't deny that she made it seem possible.

 

Kagome's face lit up with surprise and she shot him a relieved smile. “Really? You'd actually go away with me for the weekend? That's a surprise…I thought for sure you'd say No.”

 

Inuyasha groaned under his breath and felt his insides wither. A weekend away sounded great, but his night of weakness loomed its big, nasty face Saturday night. There was no way to get around it besides cancelling the whole weekend. Not wanting her to catch on that something was amiss he gave her a dismissive shrug and barked out, “You didn't let me finish wench! I said that sounds nice but I can't do it. Some of us work remember? I've got six open cases and they won't get solved by high-tailing it to Hokkaido for the weekend!”

 

He winced inwardly at the way her eyes darkened and her bright smile immediately dipped into a frown. Despite his reluctance to deny her anything, the omnipresent scowl on his face didn't falter.

 

“You're so impossible sometimes! What's a weekend? It's not like you've done anything glorious with your cases yet and it's been how many months now? Face it, you're scared that a weekend away means commitment or some guy bullshit like that and you're using your “cases” as a lame ass excuse. If you don't want to go you can at least tell me straight up. Don't pussyfoot around because you think I'd rather hear that lame crap than the truth!”

 

Her dark eyes burned bright with her ire and she clutched the cup of tea tightly in her hand. A couple of other patrons glanced curiously at her, taking note of the way her voice steadily role in volume but she ignored them. Well hell, if he could make a scene whenever he pleased then so could she! Despite being annoyed, she felt mildly satisfied at the way he squirmed beneath her piercing glare.

 

“Whatever. Think what you want wench. Instead of spending my time in the office or in the lab I've had this annoying bitch calling me up every other night to go to the movies or have coffee or some other annoying datey thing. How the hell am I supposed to get any work done when I've got that shit taking up all my time?”

 

So yeah, it was a little harsh but if it got her off his case about going away for the weekend then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Besides, it was a sort of half truth. If he wasn't with her he would have more time to work on his cases, but he would also still be a raging alcoholic chain smoker who hated his life and everyone in it. Didn't she know by the very fact that he went out with her at all that he enjoyed her? She made life bearable and fun for a change. He was surprised how quickly he'd fallen for her. He thought about her constantly, not that he'd ever tell her that of course. He had to keep some of his pride!

 

From the dark glare she was giving him he could only assumed his not so clever ploy had worked. He could hear her heel tapping noisily against the linoleum floor - a clear indicator she was pissed off, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

 

“You're such an asshole,” she muttered to him quietly, the quiet tension in her voice revealing her seething anger. He shrugged and looked away, keeping his eyes glued on a blue Volkswagon stopped at the light. Apparently ignoring her was the last straw. He was greeted by a face full of steaming hot jasmine tea before she hissed bitterly into his ear, “Have a great weekend, I know I will.” Without waiting for a response she turned heel and stormed out of the shop, the door chime dinging merrily behind her.

 

Son of a bitch! was all Inuyasha could think as he glanced down at the rivulets of tea dripping off his jacket and seeping into his shirt. The scent of Jasmine wafted into his overly sensitive nose and he snorted indignantly. Roughly flicking several large droplets off his sleeve, he shot the other patrons a murderous glare, telling them in so many words to mind their own fucking business. With a growl he snatched up a pile of napkins and swiped them over his sleeves and torso but they didn't help much. He was soaked through and all because of that stupid bitch and her temper.

 

Growling again he dropped the sopping mess of napkins onto the table and made a move to leave. She wanted him to follow her and apologize - like hell that was happening! She could come crawling back to him this time. He was tired of bending over backwards for her. Maybe she really could use a weekend away from him - to come to her senses!

 

Muttering a string of foul curses he stormed furiously out the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges when he forced it open. Glaring up at the happy sunburst door chime, he took his aggression out on the poor inanimate object and roughly ripped it down. To the shock and appal of the shop's employees, he tossed it into the street and watched with mild satisfaction as a delivery truck squashed it beneath its oversized tires.

 

Pausing at the curb he glanced left, the direction Kagome'd stormed off in. Her apartment was about two blocks north, not much of a walk if he chose to go. He contemplated it seriously for a moment before straightening his shoulders and turning south. Damn bitch had to learn her place…in a few days she'd come crawling back, he just had to be patient.

 

With that thought resting confidently in his mind he stalked briskly down the sidewalk and hailed the nearest taxi. There were murders to solve, witnesses to interview and thugs to interrogate…there was a lot of work to be done and he didn't plan on wasting any more time.

 

 

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The feeling of chaos that usually permeated the air at the Asahi Shimbun building was noticeably absent. With no company but for the delicate hum of the overhead lights, Kagome quietly browsed through file folder after file folder in search or a source she could use. She had a retinue of reliable men who would tell her anything she wanted to know for money and a bottle of sake. Frowning she closed yet another folder and set it atop the steadily increasing pile to her right. She realized with a mingling of disappointment and frustration that none of them regulars would be able to help her this time. She would have to do something she hadn't done since she'd started - seek out new sources.

 

She'd hoped the Detective would've been a little more forthcoming with his information but thinking back to their disastrous coffee date she realized that he would always be the same stingy, stubborn, asshole. Shaking her head she glared at her computer screen and unknowingly snapped the pencil clenched within her fist. Moments like these were exactly why she'd told herself at the start of this not to get involved. A relationship of any kind was a distraction. She couldn't even say she was just using the sex to get info out of him….he hadn't given her a god damn thing! Not even a little inconsequential tidbit like a scrap from a table you throw to the begging dog when no one else is looking.

 

Realizing she'd been stupid to expect anything else from him she opened a new browser window in her trusty laptop and began to scan the news headlines for any lower yakuza members who'd recently been thrown in the clink. Those were usually the easiest to weasel information out of. Lonely, dejected and starving for human (female) contact they tended to cough up anything and everything they knew with very little persuasion. Inwardly she cringed. The thought of seducing the greasy, scrawny two-bit cons who made up this group was nothing short of disgusting. She shuddered at the thought of having to go down THAT particular road again, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She wanted to crack the case and if this was the only way to go about it then so be it.

 

This job is soo freekin unglamorous sometimes, she thought bitterly as she jotted a few new names in her day planner for further investigation. Suddenly through the heavy silence the shrill sound of a phone ringing made her nearly jump out of her skin. Placing a hand over her hammering heart she glared irritably at the tiny red light blinking next to Line 1. Thrusting out her hand she let it hover over the receiver for a moment as she debated whether to waste her time answering it at all. Odds were it was a wrong number and even it if was someone calling in a tip it was probably something juvenile like a car accident witness or some other rookie info. Despite her reservations, she heaved a weary sigh and lifted the receiver to her ear.

 

“Kagome Higurashi speaking.” For a moment there was nothing and she thought maybe it'd been a wrong number after all but then she heard it, the soft regular huff of breath signalling that there was someone on the other line. She waited a second longer before opening her mouth to repeat her greeting.

 

“I hear you're looking for info about the Lucky Akida hit,” a voice rasped suddenly into the receiver. It sounded slightly distorted, as if by a handkerchief or a hand, but she couldn't tell for sure. Her mouth instantly snapped shut and she found herself dumbly nodding her head. Realizing that he couldn't see her she rolled her eyes at herself and gingerly cleared her throat.

 

“You heard right. Do you have anything for me?” She kept her voice casual, almost bored sounding. From experience she'd learned that if you sound too eager anonymous sources have a habit of panicking and hanging up. If this guy, whoever he was, had anything that could help her break that Akida case she didn't want to screw it up.

 

I'd just love to see the look on that bastard's face when he reads about my latest break in the case in next week's Sunday edition, she thought to herself with a sneaky grin as images of the Detective covered from head to foot in her steaming hot cup of tea came into view. While reminiscing she realized she still hadn't heard anything from her new best friend on the other line.

 

He was silent a moment longer, as if debating whether he should go through with his insane plan to reveal all he knew. It wasn't light business to be a source for the press, especially when it had anything to do with the yakuza. They were ruthless and could hold a grudge like no one's business. Lucky had learned that the hard way what the consequences were for being a rat and it seemed as if this guy was remembering that fact rather acutely. He waited a moment longer but didn't stutter when he spoke again. “I have something that might interest you then, for the right price of course.”

 

“Like any business deal I have to hear the goods before I give them a price,” she reminded him sharply. She'd been conned once before by a desperate drug dealer who needed to pay off his debts. She was still green then and had been a little too enthusiastic about hearing what he had to say. She'd been suckered in and when she'd paid him before even hearing a word out of his mouth he'd pistol whipped her and taken off with the money. It was little consolation that the asshole was dead now, died in a hit and run ironically enough, but he'd taught her a valuable lesson.

 

“Of course. Meet me at Shiba Park in forty-five minutes and I'll talk”

 

“Should we meet at the temple?” she asked tentatively but the only answer she received was the steady pulse of the line going dead. With a shrug she returned the receiver to its cradle and tapped her pen thoughtfully against her day timer. Shiba Park...it's not that far. Her eyes lifted to the clock and she mentally calculated how long it would take to get to the other side of town at this time of night. She'd have to leave now to make it in time and she didn't want to take a chance at being late.

 

If you were even a minute late most sources tended to bolt, thinking they were being snagged in some elaborate police sting operation. Good sources were so hard to come by. With a sigh she slammed her laptop shut and shrugged into her black polyester jacket. Cinching the belt at her waist she stooped and tore the page with her notes from her day timer. Glancing once more at the clock she snatched up her cell phone, tape recorder and keys and jetted for the door, never thinking for a moment that she should call Inuyasha. Her smug smile said it all. Payback was a bitch and she wanted him to feel it where it would hurt him the most - his pride.

 

It was exactly forty-eight minutes before she realized just how big a mistake she'd made and forty-nine before she was praying to any god who would listen that he would find her.

 

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Inuyasha stooped to grab the morning paper and mail from where it'd piled up in front of his apartment door. He'd spent another full night lying awake, the third one in a row, but this last one was more out of habit than anything else. He never slept on the night he turned human. Having his senses dulled like that scared the shit out of him and he didn't want to make it any easier for someone to take him out. It sounded irrational but it was how he'd always done things and he didn't plan on changing his ways any time soon. As radical as they seemed they'd kept him alive on more than one occasion and in his mind that was reason enough to continue.

 

On this particular night he didn't mind being awake so much. He'd spent the long restless hours going over everything he already knew about the Akida case in the hopes that somewhere along the line he'd be struck with inspiration. So far he hadn't been all that lucky and was beginning to wonder if maybe Akida was cursing him from the grace. Kami…nothing could ever be easy could it?

 

With a sigh he glanced at the morning headlines and briefly skimmed the sports scores. There was nothing there to peak his interest, meaning there was nothing written by his sexy, ill-tempered, MIA reporter. He hadn't seen an article from her in a few days and frankly he didn't give a shit what anyone else wrote. Pushing a chair away from the well worn 1970s era dining room table with his foot, he made to sit down and then thought better of it. Still sifting through his mail he walked in slow, even strides towards the kitchen to make some coffee.

 

Bills, bills, ads, bills…it was always the same crap. He hated the fact that the only people who ever wrote him were the ones he owed money to. With a sneer he tossed the bills in a pile on the counter and grabbed the murky coffee pot from where it'd sat in the maker, gathering a pleasant layer of mould, for the past three days. He poured the foul smelling stale brew into the sink and swished some fresh water around the pot in a half assed attempt to clean it.

 

As he filled the pot to add water to the machine he caught sight of something he hadn't noticed earlier - an envelope addressed to him hidden amongst the stack of bills. With an inquisitive frown he stared at it while pouring water into the coffee maker. Who would send him mail? He snickered at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Kagome had finally come to her senses and sent him an apology. Took her long enough! He was almost ready to haul ass over to her place, kami be damned how pathetic it made him look, just to get some action! Shit…he really had no self-discipline what-so-ever.

 

Still chuckling to himself he snatched the envelope from the bottom of the pile and notice that there was no return address. Well of course not, he knew where she lived. As the coffee maker gurgled and sputtered to life he used the edge of his claw to slice the envelope open. is brows drew low in confusion when he fished his hand inside and felt not a folded piece of paper but a photograph? Closing his fingers around it he slowly drew it out and red the note scrawled onto the back of the Polaroid in black marker - “Guess who?”

 

What the fuck? Inuyasha turned the picture over in his hand and felt the floor drop out from under him. The smell of dark roast coffee flooded through the tiny kitchen and the sounds of the busy machine drowned out the short, strangled gasps emanating from his open mouth. Frozen, he stared at the image in front of him, burning it into his memory until his eyes watered and he was forced to blink. The picture was reminiscent of a nightmare he'd had one too many times. Kagome's body was held up in front of the camera by a pair of burly arms on either side, one of which was fisted into her dark, dishevelled hair to force her head upright. Her mouth was bound and gagged, her blouse torn, her face bloody but all he could focus on was her eyes.

 

Terror…absolute terror shone in them. Her eyes held him prisoner, practically screaming for him to save her and for a moment he closed his own, praying that somehow this was just another trick his human half had played on him, a wicked nightmare he could rouse himself from if he only tried hard enough. Opening them once more he realized that he wouldn't be so lucky. He was still standing in his kitchen with the same horrific picture balanced in his palm.

 

He shuddered as he stared at the tear tracks that ran down her cheeks and his mind made the grim realization that this was probably exactly how Kikyo looked in the moments before her killer had sliced his blade through her tender flesh. Frightened, alone, and beautiful. It was then that the connection dawned on him and with shaking hands he turned the picture over once more to hastily re-read the taunting question… “Guess who?” It took barely a second for him to explode.

 

“Bastard…you mother fucking bastard!” He screamed into the dead air of the apartment before swiping his arm across the counter and dumping its contents to the floor. It's him it has to be! After another loud scream of frustration the rage subsided, only to be replaced with an overwhelming nausea. His human emotions had a tendency to be volatile and even though he was now a hanyou, he could still feel the lingering effects of the previous night's transformation.

 

As the horrific reality of the situation washed over him his stomach churned hard, forcing him over the sink. And while he waited for the bitter bile to rise into the back of his throat, his shaking hands clutched on either side of the dirty metal basin, all he could think was “Not again…”

 

 

Author's Note: How's THAT for a cliffy? Well I am sincerely sorry about the long wait for this chapter and the fact that it's not as long as the others. I really struggled with this one for some reason. Hopefully the rest are a little smoother. So apparently while I was away this fic won Best Alternate Universe on MediaMiner. Pretty snazzy eh? I'm pretty proud of it. It's my first writing award ever woo hoo! That being said, please leave me a review `cause I'd love to hear what you think (about the chapter, the story, the weather, whatever you like)!

 

Until next time…