InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Complex ❯ Enter Mistakes ( Chapter 7 )

The Complex

 

Dea Mariella

 

Disclaimer: After a long suit, it has been concluded by experts that, delusional I may be; I do not own the rights to Inuyasha…and any and all attempt to buy such rights are hereby prohibited.

 

A.N. I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! Shocker, I know. I bet you all wondered, didn't you! No? Oh well. There goes MY self esteem!

 

As I am the Queen of Random-osity, this was written while listening to the original London cast of Jesus Christ Superstar (long live it!)

 

Chapter 7: Enter Mistakes

 

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It had been a long day. Thankfully, it was over. I was tiredly meandering down the sidewalk to my apartment. I hadn't ever seen such a day! Between the 15 reservations for a small restaurant, the tables of 15, 20 and 23 respectively, and the worst. I cringed just thinking about it. A six top of very drunk persons, ordering six entrees (which each feed two or three), and having EVERY dish split three ways. Count it friends, that's 18 styrofoam to-go containers. I was not sad to see the backs of them…if it weren't for the mess they left behind needing to be cleaned up for the next reservation.

 

I sighed. The only thing keeping me moving forward was the thought of a long bubble bath and the double fudge brownie ice cream in the freezer with white chocolate mocha hot chocolate freshly bought that was waiting at home (A.N. sounds good eh? I thought of the richest most caloric good sounding items I could think of. Chocolate was a must!) So I trudged onward.

 

I was so out of it, I barely noticed the car pulling aside me; that is, not until the man IN the car got out to talk to me.

 

“Would you care for a lift? It was a bit hectic today, and you look like you don't really need the exercise of the extra walk.”

 

That was smoothly done. Not only had he managed to NOT tell me that I looked tired (I did), he managed to tell me that I wasn't fat (I could lose a few). That only means one person.

 

“Miroku, I'm in no mood for games at this moment. I'm doing fine on my own, thank you.”

 

The handsome man (handsome, where did THAT come from?) frowned slightly and demurred. “I'm afraid lovely Sango, that I really cannot accept that. I give you my word as a gentleman that I will keep my hands to myself.”

 

I looked at him critically; well, as critically as a severely over-tired woman can. I saw sincerity in his face and decided, what the hell.

 

The next thing I knew, I was sitting besides Miroku in his very roomy Subaru. He made small talk, and I made non-committal sounds, and was unconsciously realizing just how comfortable his car was. The ride continued…

 

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I awoke with a start. The first thing that I noticed was that I must have been really tired the night before, for I was still in my work clothes. As I got up to go to the bathroom, I made a very astute observation: I WAS NOT IN MY ROOM!

 

Instantly awake, I took stock of my surroundings. A pleasant room, fairly dark furnishings, a comfortable easy feel to it. In short, a MAN's room. What had happened last night?

 

A sleepy groan interrupted my musings. A dark head poked it's way around the door. He looked up and grinned, a very sexy grin I might say.

 

“It's good to see you up m'lady!”

 

There are a few times in a girls life when she needs to sound as non-attractive as possible, for there are very few attractive screeches. And yes, I screeched.

 

“MIROKU! WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE? WHERE IS HERE? WHAT HAPPENED? ARGH!”

 

My ranting descending rapidly into random curses and inarticulate noises, Miroku decided to answer my questions.

 

“Well, last night, I was attempting to bring you home, when you fell asleep in the car. As I didn't know your address, and couldn't very well leave you on the streets, I brought you to my apartment. I put you in bed, and personally slept on the couch. Is there something the matter?”

 

Oooooooh, I hate it when they sound logical. It just makes you seem like such a bitch for yelling at them!

 

“Well, in that case…I guess not.” At the sight of his grin, I added a quick “But that doesn't mean I'm happy with it!”

 

He gave a graceful bow for someone only clad in pajama pants and a wife-beater.

 

“In that case, let me make it up to you with breakfast…made by yours truly.”

 

I saw the writing on the wall, and gave in to inevitability. The least I could do was to give in now without looking stupid, which I would if I continued this course of arguing.

 

I was led into the living room, which was tastefully decorated in moss green with burgundy accents. It was lovely, really. Most bachelor pads aren't anywhere as nice. I unconsciously found myself critiquing…and not finding much wrong.

 

As I sat down on the green couch, Miroku continued through the living room to the little galley kitchen. He then proceeded to make me French toast and sausage. We ate, and he then drove me home.

 

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As I shut the door to my apartment behind me, I reflected upon my morning. I don't think I've ever had a pleasanter breakfast. My family was always kinda “grab it on yer way out kiddos!” Sitting and eating with Miroku, just talking about non-personal, non-threatening subjects was rather nice. It actually felt…right. I was very comfortable with him. And I would have to say that that's the longest amount of time that I have ever been around him without him attempting to cop a feel. It's refreshing, to say the least.

 

I was so busy contemplating what a nice thing that morning had been that I missed a red flag; I was falling for Miroku, hard.

 

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A.N. Well folks, at long last, I update. This fic has gone far from being a simple story loosely based upon my job, into something vaguely resembling life. If art was mirroring life right now, it would be a scary thing as I only have one thing to say about my job now…horny married Mexicans. You know it's bad when you get offered money folks. That being said, you know that you wanna push that little button on the bottom of the screen…come on, review…

 

Oh! Btw, I received a review from a fan a while back. Unfortunately, without looking it up, I don't know your name. But she mentioned that she loved this fic and wished that it updated. I read one of your stories and was writing a long review/email-type-thing, when my computer deleted it on me. So yes, I got your review and it was much appreciated. (I definitely bragged to everybody that I had a fan…don't have many of them!) So, your attempt to get me motivated worked. As having been the author of many such reviews to some of my fave authors, I sympathize, and I update. See? Miracles happen. See you next installment friends.

 

Random Quote: “Without the nuts, the world would be an awfully plain candy bar.” -my good friend Kate