Hello everyone. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it and rereading it for the last two years. This story is finished in my notebook and updates will be posted regularly depending on how much time I have to type it all out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize—those would be in the property of Rumiko Takahashi. Sigh. If only I could own Sesshoumaru…then I can have my evil way with him…
Chapter 1
Gee, Mr. Koro
Sesshoumaru frowned. His PA had just called in sick and to think, today was the date of his meeting with Gucci!
"What a bungler," Sesshoumaru mused, meticulously scratching his rounded nails in a way that many employees would consider effeminate. The truth was, Sesshoumaru was happily envisioning the characteristic green acid that would drip from the tip of his claws to burn a hole through the inept PA's head, if he would allow it to do so. Sesshoumaru glared distastefully at this fingers and shoulder length black hair. He, the Lord of the Western Lands had been reduced to the appearance of a mortal! Actually, he could shift back to his demon form, but that would risk the wellbeing of the entire demon species and the last thing he need was to become the reason of demon extinction.
"Mr. Koro, the temp is here," the receptionist downstairs announced. Apparently, his PA had managed to break her leg in a skiing accident causing Sesshoumaru to have to find a temporary PA. The one that the agency he'd contacted praised the most was a young work exchange intern from France.
"Send her up," replied Sesshoumaru, his voice not betraying any of his poison-acid ponderings, or any ponderings and emotions at all, for that matter.
The receptionist, obviously used to the cavalier tone of Sesshoumaru's rich, resonating voice, smiled fakely at the young girl standing is front of her. "Take the elevator to floor fifty, office number 5355."
The girl grinned widely at the receptionist, Yura, as if oblivious to the superficiality and malignance of Yura's voice and fairly skipped towards the elevator.
"Not his type," Yura concluded, "She's way to small and naïve. Of course, who would be his type?" Yura sighed dreamily at the thought of having Sesshoumaru even for one night before enviously realizing that the little twit of a girl got to spend all day with Sesshoumaru. "Not that anything would happen, of course," Yura rationalized snidely, "why that little brat doesn't even know how to look like a woman!" Then again, Yura considered herself a woman and she was clad in…well…something not quite so stimulating to the imagination.
The girl, newly dubbed twit and brat, for all her supposed naivete, was perceptive enough to not ask for any further directions from the receptionist. Glad to leave the busy, but relatively quiet lobby with all its suit-clad people who looked like they were all five minutes late to a very important rendezvous, Rin briskly walked across the marble lobby and entered the glass elevator on its other side, all the while hearing the irritating 'click' of her high heels.
The building was much more glamorous than Rin had first pictured. The floors she passed were filled with plush carpets, capacious offices offering beautiful views of the entire city, and architecture that rivaled some of Las Vegas' finest casinos, and, it seemed, a different set of pure wood furniture per floor. If she hadn't been so nervous about her first job, she would have squealed at the fact that she was literally rising out of the floor of on level in less and zooming past heads of the people on that level in less than five seconds.
Through all the excitement, Rin managed to hear a faint 'ding' followed by a recorded 'floor fifty'. Rin turned around to find that everyone else in the elevator had already left. Hastily, she checked herself one more time. Unlike all the other women she had seen, Rin was not wearing a business suit. Her dark, airy dress pants clung to her narrow, but curvy hips and draped down to almost touch the floor. The crème blouse she word watched her skin and contrasted with her pants and her hair perfectly, albeit the thing showed a bit more shoulder than she had originally intended. Her dark hair was gathered neatly into a single long braid that ran to her waist and her name tag was clipped horizontally on to her blouse front. Satisfied with her appearance, Rin stepped out of the elevator and entered the empty waiting area. It seemed that the entire top floor of the building was dedicated to just the one office. The fabric of her pants brushed softly against the thick cream colored carpet as she made her way past the ebony wood reception counter towards the open doorway. Hesitantly, she knocked twice.
"Come in."
The room was decorated, if she could call it that, with dark, angular cabinets and a single large desk in the center, all of which were glossy ebony wood. A high back leather chair was facing the window. Rin would've giggled at how stereotypically 'Hollywood' the scene appeared.
"Rin!" Sesshoumaru's now hazel eyes widened in shock as he breathe din her scent. "Five hundred years! She's finally returned!" Turning his chair to face her once he had gotten over the shock and recomposed his nonchalant air, Sesshoumaru scrutinized her. Abruptly, his nostrils flared. His Rin, who only wore conservative kimonos, was now sporting…well…something less conservative. Hungrily, he roamed her slim figure, letting his eyes linger on the expanse of her softly illuminating ivory skin, the swell of her blouse around the generous chest area, and the snug fit of her hips. Her appearance, other than wardrobe taste, had not changed much. Her hair was a shiny black that smelled of honey-suckles. Her dark eyebrows gave way to thick, long eyelashes which covered her large chocolate eyes which sparkled and shone with beauty and life, her nose was delicate like the rest of her petite frame and her lips were small but sensuous and full. Her face seemed more angular, more sophisticated than before, but she still had an innocence and cheerfulness about her that were reflected perfectly by the twin dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. Smiled? Shaking his head, Sesshoumaru asked the girl to repeat herself.
Rin blushed hotly as her boss examined her. She felt like a slab of meat being examined at the deli! Blushing even more when she finally caught his molten gaze, Rin made a futile attempt at breaking his examination—not that she wasn't flattered a successful, handsome man was ogling her, it was just that the situation was a little…wrong.
"Hello, I'm Rin Sarasessaki," she managed to say without hearing her voice crack.
As if suddenly snapped out of a reverie, the black haired male blinked at her a few times before asking her to repeat herself.
Rin gulped. Her voice held out the first time, but a second time? "I'm Rin," she repeated, then added as she handed the man her curriculum vitae, "your temporary PA."
Then, a miracle happed, well, not exactly, because Rin didn't know Sesshoumaru very well. Actually, no one did, but anyone who worked in the building for more than a week would know that Koro Sesshoumaru NEVER smiled. But smile he did. The slight tug of his full lips seemed a bit uneasy and the thing probably wasn't even qualified as a smiled but none-the-less, it left Rin breathless.
"Welcome to Western Sakura, Rin," Sesshoumaru started, after quickly balking his smile and resuming his apathetic mast. "As you know, this company is at the top of its class in both modeling and fashion design. We cater to internationally renowned designers and nationally celebrated brands, most of the latter having started in this very building you are standing in. We are famous for our exceptional advertising and design and theme departments and of course, our models. As my PA, you are required to authorize the final set-up of shows and approve the models' entrance onto the catwalk. If anything seems wrong on them—makeup, dress size, et cetera—you are entitled to deny them access. Also, you will accompany me to any boardroom meetings and important client meetings I may have. As you have probably realized, this position is one with quite a lot of sway and it is only through the recommendation of my long time friend Kouga, the president of the temp company you were in, that you received this position. I hope you do not betray his trust. Please read through the following papers and sign on the dotted line. We have an appointment at lunch with Gucci, so make sure to dress in the brand, if you have no attire of Gucci's go down to Attires and they will dress you in something suitable. Questions?" Sesshoumaru almost winced. Why did he have to sound so cold to Rin? The Rin he knew five hundred years ago would be yelling at him for that introduction.
"But she's not the young woman you knew have a millennium ago, is she? You saw to that," a small voice in the back of his head whispered.
Rin blinked, silently wondering how he could talk so much in one breath without sounding even a bit breathless. "Why did you decide to inform me instead of getting someone else to do it? I didn't expect to get a briefing personally from the president and owner of the largest, busiest, and most successful fashion company in Japan." She wondered, remembering the warning Kouga had given her about Mr. Koro and his impatience with new employees.
"Been hearing rumors already, have you? Anyone else would have taken at least twice the time and missed half the information," the man replied, rather conceitedly in Rin's opinion, in a deep, resonating, chuckle that vibrated from his shirt-clad, clearly muscular chest to his adams apple.
Flushing as she figured out she'd voiced her thoughts, Rin picked up the papers he'd mentioned to her and scampered out the darkly furnished room beforeher legs gave way.
Rin was a fast worker and was always focused on her job. She'd read through the files, signed them, and began work on the data charts Sesshoumaru had requested with her usually celerity but her focus was off. Rin frowned, first day on the job and she already was having trouble. Faintly, she remembered that the sourse of her trouble was a certain boss' rich, sexy chuckle and equally sexy appearance, but she hastily brushed the thought away. Suddenly, her eyes let up. Gucci! She was going to get a se t of Gucci clothes to wear! Inwardly berating herself for being so easily excited about material pleasures, she half-heatedly suppressed a squeal, jumped up from her chair, dropped Sesshoumaru's now finished data sheets and her signed papers, the only things she had to take care of this morning, into said man's bind and all but skipped down to 'Attires' while humming to "Frosty the Snowman."