Disclaimer: Inuyasha and its characters belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. I just write bad fanfic for it.

A/N: HEYO! Ange here again! So while I'm still writing for my other stories, I thought I would give you guys something to tide you over during the long wait. The following are a compilation of AU drabbles, romance letters to my favorite couple that I have collected over the years and have come to terms with that -while I will never finish or continue them- I hope they amuse and inspire this loving fandom, as you have amused and inspired me. Enjoy.

Midnight Hour

888

Now there was an interesting woman, Sesshoumaru thought with amusement.

The midnight train rattled noisily, packed despite the late hour of the day, a cacophony of sounds that were an ode to the restless nature of the city. Among the sea of black business suits and pressed office dresses that overwhelmed the small compartment, Sesshoumaru stood out like a radiant living torch.

His long, silky hair had been meticulously braided into a perfect, white plait that ended just above his belt. An equally white suit tailored his long and fit form to the heavens, oozing the distinguished scent of 'rich' without seeming pretentious; a delicate act that only one as dignified as Sesshoumaru could pull off with acrobatic grace. The monochromatic color palette of whites was broken only by the pulsating red that edged the ends of his sleeves almost up to his elbows. Upon closer inspection of the red fabric, one could detail a hexagon pattern, boxing inside most delicately a blossom – some family crest of sorts, perhaps. It was a floral and feminine design to be sure and would have been particularly softening of the sharp figure his character cut...had it not given the unnerving illusion that the sleeves of his suit were dipped in freshly-spilled blood.

Despite his absurd appearance among the mundanity of the foot traffic, nobody in the train paid him any mind. Not for lack of interest, mind you. But Sesshoumaru was well aware that, to the common person, he emanated an aura that many would poorly describe as "dangerous", an adjective that fell comically short. It was because of this very aura, which he so carefully dispersed through sheer will alone, that those around him left the beautiful man to his own devices, ignored to wallow in his grandeur.

The lack of attention suited Sesshoumaru just fine. It meant more freedom of his person to move as he pleased and less resistance for the things that he desired.

If Sesshoumaru had been the type to grin he would have; yet as it was against his very nature to express any outward emotion, he settled on surveying her almost casually over half-lidded lashes. The tall man sat a bit straighter in the uncomfortable train bench, drinking in her figure, the small world of the train and its present inhabitants dissipating into nothingness as his field of vision narrowed down to the lone creature that held his attention captive.

She was the perfect picture of modesty: black sensible shoes with buckles and no heel, paired with a grey mousy skirt that skimmed the delicate bones of her ankles, plus matching grey vest and coat. Her straight, black hair was coiffed in a conservative no-nonsense up-do, that better befit a retired secretary than her much younger features. All in all, her outfit lacked a single trace of sex appeal and, ordinarily, she would've passed by without his notice; another faceless nobody in his tumbling existence to be processed through his memory and just as quickly forgotten...had it not been for her hands. Or, more specifically, what was covering said hands.

That was because, despite the almost clerical wardrobe she had cocooned herself in, inside this deceptively-modest creature lived a daring woman who wore leather gloves the color of crimson red, pulsing and loud against the grey canvas of her clothes. Both color and texture were hypersexual - almost vulgar- on her virginal fingers, and drew his interest hungrily.

Sesshoumaru's curious yellow eyes met her own blue gaze, shy and skittish, that red-gloved hand tightening upon the train pole uncertainly, and he smiled to himself.

He had found his newest target.

The train hissed to a stop and she skittered out like a frightened mouse. Without looking away from his prey, Sesshoumaru got up from his seat and followed her out.

His tongue flicked over elongated fangs in anticipation. Idly, he wondered if her blood would be as red as her gloves.

Kagome kept walking, her steps deceptively light and steady, even as she was aware that she was being followed.

The petite raven dared not look back. Yet she was certain, with that blessed intuition that most females were graced with, that her stalker was indeed behind her. To be specific, he had been following her since she got off at the train station, and Kagome cursed under her breath.

She should have listened to Sango and not left the clerical office so late. Or at least take her firm partner up on the offer to share a cab. But Kagome, ever the practical girl, was trying to save up on money.

Now I'm going to get murdered for being a cheapskate, she thought ruefully.

It was a cold night too, so the amount of people walking outside was minimal for what was the norm. Most had turned in for the night in anticipation for the supposed thunderstorm headed their way. The loneliness of the streets only served to heighten her fear and paranoia, where innocent shadows looked like demons ready to pounce. Kagome turned a corner, hoping, praying really, that the little market next to her apartment would still be open. She could hide out in there for a while; perhaps the stalker would give up and leave her alone when he realized his prey was not worth his time.

At exactly the same moment that she finished rounding the sidewalk corner, something large barreled against her. The force was so strong Kagome was immediately knocked off her feet, giving a small pained cry as she was sent sprawling into a small dark alley.

Kagome looked up with a gasp as the entry to the alley was completely filled by a large, black form. The man was massive, blocking the streets with his entire body and dimly Kagome realized how exceptionally small she was. His features were hidden by shadows, except for one broad smile that sent her heart hammering against her chest. This was it, she thought dejectedly, eyes glazing over-

"Are you alright, miss?"

A hand, large but gentle, wrapped around her forearm and pulled her up. Kagome's body was still tittering with the aftershock of adrenaline, but she puffed out a nervous laugh at the man. "Yes, thank you. I should have watched where I was going, sorry." she apologized unnecessarily, a nasty habit that she had been trying to kick. Nerves had a way of hijacking her brain though, and politeness was something horrifically ingrained in her.

"You're sorry? I should be the one apologizing, miss! Nearly knocked you to the next state! Come here, step into the light so I can see if I hurt you."

Kagome obliged, eager to be out of the alley and into an open area that offered escape routes. The stranger was being nice enough; but Kagome had worked enough criminal cases as a lawyer in the district attorney's office to know how folly it was to blindly trust men in dark alleys. Taking advantage of the light offered by the near lamppost, Kagome looked up at the stranger.

He was young, younger than she had suspected by the deep timber of his voice or the politeness which he addressed her with. His boyish face, unremarkably plain, was twisted with concern, clear grey eyes looking her up and down anxiously. His eyes settled on a spot and he groaned miserably. Kagome followed his horrified gaze down to her skirt, where it rested on the most monstrously huge stain she had ever seen. Kagome didn't even want to think about what sort of liquid it could be, desperately ignoring the foul smells coming from the alleyway behind her.

"I'm so sorry!" the young man bemoaned, covering his forehead with one hand as he brushed mousy brown hair aside. "Oh God, I- I can pay for that!" He assured her.

I really fricking doubt that, this is Marc Jacobs, bichh, Kagome thought with chagrin. Outwardly, she plastered a smile on her face, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, it's just clothes." That cost half of my previous paycheck, but sure. Just clothes! she screamed shrilly on the inside. It was tough being a fashionable lawyer in the city.

The boy looked completely unconvinced, and he shook his head. "No, seriously! Give me your number and I can Venmo you the dry cleaning tab!"

"Look, that's really sweet but seriously, it's fine!"

"Please!" He begged, taking Kagome by surprise with the intensity of his voice. "My old man would box my ears if he ever found out I did something like this to a lady! Let me make it up to you somehow, miss! I can pay you, or take you somewhere to clean up - anything!"

Kagome softened at his exasperation. The young man must've been around her younger brother Souta's age, and her sibling was barely a freshman in college. Kagome sighed, trying to come up with a perfectly polite way to blow him off and still appease him; by the intensity of his gaze, he didn't look like he was going to let it go. Thinking, her eyes strayed down the dark street, knowing she still had three more blocks to walk in this dangerous city before she made it to the safety of her home. And suddenly, with a shiver, she remembered why she had been so scared in the first place.

"Actually..."Kagome started, an idea blinking into existence. The boy perked up, looking like a hopeful puppy. He might be young but, casting a glance at his athletic build, he would definitely work for what she needed.

"This is going to sound weird but...do you mind walking me home?" she asked him, biting her lip and hoping he wouldn't take this the wrong way.

Too late, she thought as a blush made itself prominent on his face. "Me?" he asked, incredulous.

She hesitated, wondering if she should abandon the idea altogether, but forged on. "The thing is...before bumping into you, I thought someone was following me."

"Really? When? Now?" The boy looked around, his brows drawing down and his chest puffing up menacingly. "Do you think he's still around?"

Kagome put up a placating hand up, appreciating his bravado but needing someone level-headed. "Look, I'm not even sure if there was someone, to be honest. But I'd feel better if I had an escort to keep me company the rest of the way, and this could be your way to pay me back. If you don't mind that is." she amended quickly.

"No, of course not, miss! Nights are dangerous times for ladies like yourself. You lead the way, and I'll be sure to keep a look-out for any weirdos!"

Kagome giggled, appreciating his youthful enthusiasm but also out of relief. "Perfect. Well, it's this way." Nodding to the right side of the street awkwardly, she began walking towards her destination. The boy quickly followed, keeping an appropriate distance to her and already calming her frazzled nerves as he dove into a long explanation of what she could best use to remove the stain once she got home. The prattle was meaningless - nothing could possibly salvage this skirt - but comforting, as the shadows in the streets receded into the darkness and the night appeared less frightening.

Perhaps it hadn't been totally awful to ruin her skirt if it meant peace of mind and a safe passage to her home.

Better a trip to the laundromat than to the morgue, she thought with dark amusement.

"Well, this is me!" The short raven announced, looking up at the brick building she currently rented. All the lights from her neighbors' windows were off, which didn't surprise her. What with the lateness of the hour and most of the residents being well past the age of 70 - Kagome being the only exception - she was used to coming to a quiet and dark building. That suited Kagome just fine; quiet neighbors were a rare blessing to find in a bustling city like this one, after all.

"Thanks again for walking me home." With an appreciative smile, Kagome extended her hand towards the boy, preparing her farewells. "My name's Kagome, by the way." she said, as the boy reciprocated and held her hand in his much larger one. "Kagome-"

"Higurashi." the boy finished, smiling as well; except his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. The familiar way he said her last name left Kagome feeling cold. "Yes, I know. Kagome Higurashi, graduated first in her class from TCC and is the current rising star in the DA's office."

Kagome felt her mouth go dry. Weakly she tried to tug her hand away, but it was trapped in the man's unrelenting grasp. The same fear that had possessed her in the train came back, ten-fold. "How...?" Kagome began, but her voice cracked.

The boy laughed, a loud sound in the empty night, his hold on Kagome's hand tightening. She cried out. "Oh, I know a lot about you, miss." he murmured darkly, the polite title no longer endearing but dripping with sarcasm. "You take two tea's every morning from the small cafe across your office, and work well into the night, even after all your colleagues have already left. You take walks around the park and enjoy reading from your windowsill on your days off - which admittedly aren't that many, you really should take better care of your health, Kagome." he chided her with mock concern, even as the grip on her hand and her upper arm, where his other hand had settled, were bruising. "And most importantly, you are ruthless in the court, earning the reputation of a lawyer with a take-no-prisoners attitude, even though you look so meek and sweet."

Kagome squeaked as he pulled her closer, and she could feel his nose pressing against the crook of her neck. Disgusted, she turned her face away, desperately trying to push him off, her mind racing. The raven struggled to remember what she had learned in that one self-defense class she had attended with Sango all those years ago when they first moved into the city, but all the raven could think of was to run, run, run-

"Let me go or I'll scream!" Kagome threatened with a growl, trying fruitlessly to recapture her hands. The boy continued, as if Kagome hadn't spoken.

"I thought you'd be different with my old man, though. You know, it being his first offense and how old he was. First time I saw you in the courtroom during his trial I thought 'No way can someone this pretty punish my family.'"his grasp on her was painful, and tears welled up behind her eyes. "But no. You gunned for fifteen years to life in prison, no parole. That's a death sentence to a man his age. And all because some lying broad accused him of assault?!"

Kagome stopped struggling long enough to absorb his words, and nearly groaned. So this was all because of a conviction? Kagome had heard of acquaintances at work being harassed by disgruntled family members in public. Being a lawyer in the people's court meant you made enemies with every criminal you went up against. It was only natural that among your many convictions and victories of putting scum behind bars, you'd make some enemies along the way. More often than not, those adversaries would present themselves in the form of children or spouses that were upset their criminal head of household had been given their just desserts. But being followed and tricked like this to her home for a felony assault charge; this was too much!

"Listen, I don't know who your father is. But we can talk-"

Kagome didn't get to finish what she was saying when the man suddenly released her. She was surprised, but not as surprised as when he closed the distance between them again and punched her straight across the face.

Kagome went sprawling on the sidewalk like a bag of groceries, sure that her jaw had been dislocated. She would have yelled, but the shock of the punch and the impact to the hard ground had been enough to knock all the air out of her. She couldn't see them, but she was certain her hands were a bloody mess, the delicate palms stinging were the cement floor had taken the skin off. And for the first time that night, including her walking from the train and falling into the alleyway, she was truly afraid. Kagome realized just how much danger she was in when, opening her eyes and blinking away the darkness at the edge of her vision, she suddenly saw him swing his boot back.

And then the kicking began.

Instinctively, Kagome rolled into a ball, her arms thrown across her head to protect what little she could, but his kicks were merciless, unrelenting. For the first few seconds of the beating, she thought he would grow tired, would spit at her with a warning threat of some kind and then leave her injured and humiliated in her doorstep. But as the seconds dragged on, his kicks growing in fervor, the pain in her body only intensifying, she realized...

...he was going to kill her.

The thought should have paralyzed her. It certainly cooled her blood, made her heart skip and her breathing stop.

He was going to kill her?

Kagome fisted her hands and grit her teeth.

He might have ruined her Marc Jacobs skirt-

-But he was not going to kill her without a fight.

As the boy's heavy boot neared her stomach one more time, Kagome disentangled her arms and lunged for him. The man yelped, as Kagome held on to his leg like a vice, knowing she was not going to make it out of this alive but intending to leave as much DNA evidence as she could. She bit and scratched at the offending appendage, marking him as the killer and leaving as much damage as she could; until the man snapped out of his surprise and began to kick her in the head instead. Kagome tried, truly tried, to hold on longer, but one kick struck her hard enough to snap her head back painfully until she was sure it would leave permanent spine damage and she let go with a cry.

"You fucking crazy bitch!" he yelled murderously, and Kagome closed her eyes, too weak to even protect whatever part of her body wasn't already bruised. She felt him hover over her menacingly, and tried to prepare herself for whatever was coming -

-when somewhere from behind them, she heard a growl.

It was deep and feral, the kind of animalistic sound that made the hairs on your arm stand at attention in primal fear.

For a moment, Kagome thought a dog had wandered upon the scene and, sensing the violent aura, had reacted instinctively in her defense. But then her attacker's next words left her confused.

"Who the fuck are you?" the young man asked, but gone was the brutal edge to his voice, replaced by a hint of hysteria that made him sound as young as he looked.

Kagome heard a strange gurgle, and realized it was her own rattling breath. She could feel liquid spilling from her mouth, but she couldn't be sure if it was blood from the inside of her mouth for being hit on her face or worse, from a punctured lung. Straining, she opened her eyes to see what had caused the boy to cease his attack on her.

Her consciousness leaving her fast, Kagome used the last of her strength to look up. Her gaze was clouded, red dots spotting everywhere, but behind the fog she thought she saw a tall white figure standing a few feet away. Under the neon lights of the city, his white form seemed to glow with a white halo, beautiful and surreal. His silhouette cut a sharp threatening line in the darkness around him, and dimly she wondered if angels were meant to be so scary.

Strength gone, Kagome's eyes drooped shut. She thought she heard one last growl and the boy scream in terror before the darkness took her.

A/N: This was something I wrote during my breaks at work. I had been watching a lot of crime dramas and wondered what it would be like for our favorite characters to be in a modern world where Sess was a demon (or even vampire of sorts) protecting strong but very human DA Kagome. I didn't really have a story planned around it though so this was the extent of where it went. Maybe one day I'll pick it up, maybe not. What do you guys think? R&R is always welcome!