Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha and do not own or endorse Maybelline.

Screw Maybelline

Eyes narrowed, she eyed him warily from across the wrought-iron café table, complete with chipping white paint.

"Pardon?"

He shot her his ever-so-slightly-annoyed look and sighed.

"Marry me."

She would have laughed if she hadn't been so surprised.

"Never!"

He raised a delicate brow.

"I'm engaged!"

"Oh, please. He was a priest."

"Monk."

"And he died in a freak accident with a vacuum cleaner two days ago."

"Oh, yeah."

She paused a second. Why was she so opposed to the idea, anyway?

"For one thing, your hair's prettier than mine is."

His lip curled upward imperceptibly.

"Of course it is. Continue."

"You wear an appallingly fluffy boa and your yellow sash-thing is tied in a big, floppy bow."

There was a blinding flash of light and a slight breeze. He did not appear to have moved, but the yellow bow was now a yellow square knot.

"The 'boa' stays."

She rolled her eyes and continued.

"You're sitting with your legs crossed at the ankle and tucked beneath your chair."

"So are you."

"I'm a human."

"Unfortunate, but no longer of any consequence."

"Whatever. And, um . . ."

She trailed off, her mind a little too muddled to produce any more reasons to protest the union.

"Are you quite finished?"

It was one of those moments where she would have liked nothing better than to bash him into the ground with her nice Hiraikotsu. His perfect eyebrows were detestable, really.

"If nothing else, this union is your duty. We are the last of our kind."

That had her attention.

"W-what!"

He looked at her scornfully.

"Didn't you ever notice? We are the last ones who have it naturally. Everyone else . . ."

He broke of momentarily and she could have sworn he shuddered. But he was never one to shudder.

". . . wears eyeshadow."

Her mouth dropped open in sheer shock and horror.

"No. No. No, no, no."

"Look within yourself, you know it to be true."

And it was.

She leapt into his arms and they sped away to Vegas and were married and hard at work restoring their race within the hour.

Years later, they were surrounded by radiantly beautiful children with naturally magenta eyelids.

Screw Maybelline, their noble spawn were all born with it.

A/N: It's the stress from studying for finals. I swear. And I have vowed to complete Airline Escapades one day. Depressingly enough, I can't seem to find my lovely eighth-grade voice anymore, though . . .