This is me. Being a tool.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. I do not profit from this story.

Fallen Among Thieves

Chapter One

"We are not deceived; we deceive ourselves." – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Inuyasha Taisho wasn't sure of three things.

1. Who he worked for.

2. Where he was born.

3. If Inuyasha Taisho was actually his real name.

The last one really sucked, but he tried not to dwell on that. Right now, he had a lot more on his plate to worry about – like living. That was always top priority.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," he cursed, scrambling against the crumbling brick wall for some sort of hold. A rock slid from under his feet and he swore some more, suddenly debating if his occupation was really worth it. If he had been smart, he would've been a lawyer or a dentist or a goddamn bookkeeper.

But no, he had to pick a career that was more than a little unconventional and definitely not good for his health. But hey, someone had to piss people off. Inuyasha figured on a good day that it might as well be him. On a bad day, he just pissed people off for shits and giggles.

"Boss, target has vanished. Proceeding to south hall," a deep voice rumbled. The crackling sound of a walkie-talkie mumbled an answer. Inuyasha held his breath, brown eyes wide as his hands screamed under the stress of holding his body up. He was dangling over the side of a fucking balcony for fuck's sake. If this didn't shake some sense into him about his career path, nothing would.

"Target exposed. Open fire."

Shit. Inuyasha realized with horror that while he was dangling on the edge wall of a mansion, security had surrounded him on the ground. He was literally a sitting duck. Or – to be more literal – a hanging one, but neither of the options particularly sounded good.

He heard gunfire and without further thinking scrambled up the wall and hauled himself back on top of the balcony. A bullet grazed his shoulder and pain screamed through his body as he continued to run back inside the mansion. Staying outside would be suicide.

Being a fucking con artist was suicide, but that was beside the point currently.

He heard heavy footsteps approaching, the sounds of maybe half a dozen security guards coming his way. He paused in the hallway, seeing all of the closed doors and wondering which one could potentially lead to an escape or potentially lead to his death. The door to the right looked somewhat promising.

Opening the door, Inuyasha propelled himself inside and shut it, turning the lock even though he doubted it would help much. It took him only a second to determine what kind of room this was – the one leading to his death. There were no windows, no bathrooms, not even a fucking closet.

Well shit.

"Target in pursuit–" The men passed the door and Inuyasha let his tight muscles relax somewhat. His arm was still killing him and he didn't have to look at his left shoulder to know that he was bleeding. It was definitely going to leave a mark but it wouldn't hurt him in the long run. A few inches more and he'd be dead, and certainly that would've.

He counted up to two-hundred seconds in his head, blinking twice before slowly turning the knob. He took a deep breath and swung the door open.

"Target acquired."

"Oh fuck," Inuyasha snarled, seeing the gun pointed rather close to his head. In one move – because he figured it was one move or never move again – he grabbed the gun, pushing it away from his face as he kicked out and sacked the security guard in the balls. It was definitely a low blow by guy code standards, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And Inuyasha was currently very desperate.

The man grunted in pain, bending over to cover himself as he gasped for breath. Inuyasha didn't give much thought when he grabbed the door and slammed it, hitting the security guard in the head and knocking him backwards. The gun clattered to the floor and Inuyasha made a run for it, calculating in his head just how far he was from the stairs and just what the chances were of seeing no security guards on the way.

If you're wondering, it's zero.

Inuyasha stopped abruptly when he made it to the two diverging grand staircases of the mansion. The dinner party was going on just below him and he could see all the beautiful women dressed in gowns and men with their tuxedos. Security stood on both flights of stairs, six men total. They noticed him right away, climbing up the stairs as fast as they could to get to him.

"Shit, shit, shit," Inuyasha continued to grumble, caught in the middle with nowhere to run but back into the long hallway of bedrooms and libraries. Instead, he ran to the railing that sat in the middle and he figured he had about five seconds to make a decision or get mauled by security.

People were looking up now at the commotion. Women were gasping and men were standing frozen to the spot. Inuyasha shrugged with two seconds left before grabbing the top of the railing and throwing his body over into the crowd of people.

No one caught him of course. He landed – as per usual because apparently Hollywood could get some things right – on the table presenting the glasses and bottles of champagne. The glass shattered underneath him and women screamed close to his ear. Okay, so jumping was not a good idea. His left shoulder was literally screaming bloody murder.

"Go, go!"

The orders of the guards made him jump up, dropping his shoulder to toss aside a couple of men trying to play hero. Going out the front door would be suicide so instead he found the nearest pompous asshole and threw him against the window.

When it didn't shatter, Inuyasha could've cried.

There was a grasp on his wrist and he instinctually punched whoever it was out, fleeing towards the back where the kitchen was. He gracelessly pushed put cooks and burning plates, knives occasionally sticking out in his direction as he wound his way through the aisles of food and condiments. Inuyasha could hear yelling and orders being shout out but he didn't pause to listen. He just needed out right the hell now.

Eventually he found a back door, barrelling his way through and breaking out into a sprint down towards the street and into the shadows of the night. Inuyasha swore colourfully as he climbed the fencing, officially destroying his tuxedo jacket as it ripped on his decent towards freedom. He hesitated momentarily to look around. Guards were getting closer with their guns drawn and Inuyasha didn't want to stick around to see what an actual bullet in his body felt like.

He took off once more, sticking close to dark areas before he finally waved down a taxi three blocks away. It wasn't until he climbed into the car and told the driver some random coordinates out of the city that the sounds of sirens were no more.

Leaning back in the seat, Inuyasha put pressure on his left shoulder and cringed at the pain and feel of blood. Thank god it was dark and the taxi driver hadn't looked twice at him.

In the darkness of the vehicle with the nightlife passing him by, Inuyasha let out a heartfelt "shit."

But back to the whole "not knowing" thing that was plaguing Inuyasha's life:

Inuyasha Taisho didn't have a boss – only, he kind of did. Someone always left him a message with a simple statement of what he was to acquire. Sometimes he had to get an artifact or painting. Other times he had to get someone to do something they didn't originally want to do. As a con artist, Inuyasha was positively sure that he could do about anything. His boss knew that.

However, his boss couldn't be that smart because all of the things he'd stolen were still in his vault. All of the decisions he helped people make were usually pointless and didn't help any particular person or party. It was all very...confusing. Although, being a con artist could do that to you.

The next tidbit of information was just something that always bothered him. Where was he born? Where did he come from? Did he have parents? Inuyasha remembered growing up in the foster care system, being in and out and labelled a "troubled child" before he even knew what trouble meant. It was inevitable that he became what he was. Lying to people and conning them was a natural reaction to trying to get attention, affection and all that other psychological crap.

Inuyasha chose not to think about it too hard.

Which left him with the final and most troubling thought: was his name really Inuyasha Taisho?

Well, he had no fucking clue.

He assumed but when there was no evidence to prove that it was or wasn't, it left him just a bit baffled and displeased. It was the name each foster parent called him, each member of the system trying to find him a new home. They seemed very sure that Inuyasha Taisho was his full birth name. Inuyasha himself wasn't so sure. He tried looking for his parents once when he was a teenager. There were no men under the name Taisho that could possibly be related to him. As for potential mothers...he had no clue where to even start. Did his mother keep her maiden name or not? Was she remarried?

Overall, Inuyasha's situation wasn't ideal. It wasn't terrible but he didn't love it.

Of course, he didn't love much of anything really.

After the taxi driver dropped him off, Inuyasha paid the man and then shortly flagged down one more with a different set of directions. Neither of the drives were particularly long but Inuyasha was grateful when he finally paid the second driver and then headed into his hotel. It was large and expensive and the receptionist smiled and welcomed him despite the fact it was one in the morning and he was bleeding. She just continued to smile and do her work.

If money couldn't buy anything, it could still buy silence. That was something Inuyasha was more than grateful for.

The elevator ride to the top floor didn't take long, but he definitely scared a couple with all of his grumbling and swearing when he passed them in the hallway. Fishing his card key out of his pocket, Inuyasha waited for the door to unlock before walking in and soaking in the AC. Thank god for the little things.

"You're bleeding."

Not that Inuyasha was particularly paranoid, but hearing a female voice in a room that was still pitch black couldn't be anything good. Unless of course it's a free hooker, then you'd only have to worry about other bodily health matters. So, the point was, female voices coming out of nowhere in a locked room was not good.

Inuyasha flicked on the light switch and observed the room quickly. Sitting on his king-sized bed was a pale woman with long black hair and a small smile. Her large brown eyes were focused intently on him as she looked him up and down slowly.

"Who the hell are you?" Inuyasha demanded, cutting to the chase because in about five seconds he was either going to faint from blood loss or make a break for his gun that was hidden in the room. "What the fuck are you doing on my bed?" And then another thought occurred to him. "And how in the hell did you know I was bleeding before I turned on the lights?"

The woman's smile grew, showing off perfect white teeth and an aura of mystery about her. Inuyasha ignored the fact that she was on his bed looking just a bit too comfortable. He'd think about that in the shower when he was alone.

"My name isn't important right now but you can call me Higurashi," the woman said, shrugging slightly. "I'm on your bed because I thought it looked rather ominous if I sat on the chair and I knew you were bleeding because, well, I'm just that good."

Inuyasha nodded as if it all made sense. "Great then get out of my room. As you said I'm bleeding so I plan on bandaging it up, drinking and then promptly passing out. Thanks."

Higurashi stood up, smoothing her skirt from imaginary wrinkles before sauntering closer to him. Her hips swayed with each click of her high heels and Inuyasha had to focus really hard not to think about her being sexy. Sexy was a good thing when you knew the person wasn't going to potentially kill you.

But, now that he thought about it that was probably what made her so hot in the first place.

Inuyasha would contemplate that later.

"Let me look at it," Higurashi insisted, grabbing his left arm and gently prodding around the wetness of the tux. "You'll definitely need a new one."

"I'll need a new arm?" Inuyasha asked incredulously, flagging her off and turning away to head towards the bathroom. "Are you drunk or something?"

"You'll need a new tuxedo, moron," Higurashi replied, sounding more bored than anything. She leaned casually on the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the con artist struggle with the first aid kit. "Did you get it?"

Inuyasha was just barely able to open the simple metal locking device, growling when it finally opened. "Did I get what?" he snapped, glaring at her momentarily before turning his attention back to the band-aids. Couldn't this Higurashi chick just leave him alone?

"The Shikon No Tama, obviously," she replied, yawning. "That's what you were at Kikyo Hidaka's mansion for, wasn't it?"

Pointedly ignoring her, Inuyasha set out to remove his ripped jacket and undo the bowtie and dress shirt underneath. His arm was stinging with a dull throb, the blood far more visible against the white shirt as it dripped down around his elbows. He hissed when he removed the clothing, looking in the mirror briefly before setting out to disinfect the wound and wipe away the blood.

"Earth to Inuyasha," Higurashi said in a singsong voice, smiling despite the fact she was irritating the shit out of him. She was probably smiling because she was irritating the shit out of him.

"What?" Inuyasha grunted, far too concerned with his bleeding arm. The disinfectant stung like a bitch when he applied it and he stomped on the floor four times just to let out the hiss of his anger. Whoever shot at him was going to be dead tonight, he was sure of it.

"Did you get the Shikon No Tama?" Higurashi repeated.

Inuyasha dropped the bloodied cloth and turned to glare at the woman. Regardless of the fact that she was attractive, she was also a major pain in his ass at the moment. "Look," he snapped, taking a step forward. "I don't know who you are or who you work for. If I wasn't so unconcerned with the fact that you could do absolutely no bodily harm to me, I would've killed you by now. What do you want?"

Higurashi stared at him, meeting his defiant gaze before letting her eyes sweep lower and over his topless body. If he wasn't so pissed off he probably would've smirked at the fact she seemed to enjoy what she saw, if her appreciative gaze and sly smile was anything to go by. "I want nothing."

This was getting ridiculous though. "What do you want with me, then?"

Laughing, Higurashi repositioned herself, standing in the way more than anything. "Let's stick to business, shall we? Did you steal the Shikon No Tama?"

"No," he hissed, turning away from her and focusing back on his image in the mirror. Shit, he'd probably need stitches for the bullet graze. That meant he couldn't start drinking the whiskey until he was mostly finished. "I was hitting on Kikyo and she got pissed off. The woman is very coy and seductive until you actually put a move on her."

"Is that right?" Higurashi asked, sounding rather amused. "I wonder what those moves look like."

Despite the situation Inuyasha did smirk, shrugging. "You'll never know."

"Now, I wouldn't say that," the woman teased, smiling. "I bet I'll have you begging within the next few months."

"And what makes you think I'll be around?" Inuyasha scoffed, shaking his head. "Wench, get the hell out of my room."

"Did you steal the Shikon No Tama?"

"No," he repeated. Making a decision, he turned and stepped right into the woman's space, peering down at her with intense dark eyes. "Now get out."

The woman was blocking his way from exiting the bathroom and she positioned herself in such a way that getting by her would be either painfully physical or awkwardly sexual. Not that Inuyasha would mind the heady release but she wanted to stick to business and in his business, nothing was what it seemed to be like.

He was a con artist after all.

"If you don't move, I'll make you," Inuyasha whispered, leaning down so that his face was inches from hers. He completely ignored the part of himself that was getting really hot and bothered by the fact she was radiating sexual desire. It didn't help any that her top was low-cut and her skirt was very tight. The heels weren't comforting either. Inuyasha thought he probably had a thing for a woman in heels.

"Those are fighting words," she whispered right back, still smiling at him like he was the best thing in the world.

She had left him no choice. Within seconds he had his hand wrapped in her hair and twisting, making her let out a small pained noise before he dragged her to the door. "It was nice not meeting you Higurashi. I hope you don't come back."

With that, he opened the door and threw her out. He smirked, waved and then slammed it closed.

He was not disappointed when she didn't knock or yell obscenities to let her back in. He wasn't disappointed at all.

Three hours later he was halfway to piss-drunk with stitches in his shoulder and some sitcom on television. His laptop was open and by his side, the programs and executable files working to hack into all those top-security, unbreakable, firewall-protected agencies. He'd been searching out the last name Higurashi since he threw the woman out.

The lack of movement on his screen caught his attention, and he turned to review all the files labelled Higurashi. Another two hours later and the sun was rising, the soft orange glow peeking through the curtains as tomorrow became today. It wasn't until then that he finally found her.

Kagome Higurashi, age 26. She was one of the youngest cops in her division, winning heroism awards, medals for valour and a shitload of other things. Eventually she quit after her partner was killed in what seemed to be a random gang shooting. Later she became a private investigator, working with the police on cases that required special attention.

It took awhile for him to fully digest that in his drunken state, but what made him slow also made him think of all the possibilities out there. Inuyasha was pretty sober after that.

Kagome Higurashi was a private investigator and it seemed like she'd taken an interest in him, a con artist and a thief.

Did you steal the Shikon No Tama?

Inuyasha reached down into his pants, finding the secret compartment he had long ago sewn in and pulling out the small pink jewel.

Well shit.

I hope you liked my stupidity. Feedback is always appreciated.