Love's Smirking Revenge

Chapter 3

- Dinner for Three? -

The dimmed lights and soft Parisian music serenading the patrons of L'Espace were designed to create a romantic atmosphere. Within the small but quaint bistro there were only three occupied tables; one by an affluent elderly couple, the second by a pair of obnoxiously happy newlyweds celebrating their freshly inked status as husband and wife, and lastly there was the Detective and Kagome. Seated next to the warm glowing fire in the stone hearth they appeared, from the outside at least, like any normal couple out on a date. If anyone happened to take a closer look at the two would-be diners however, they might have noticed something very odd indeed – a complete lack of conversation.

The pair had arrived twenty minutes earlier after an uneventful and equally silent car ride. Detective Takahashi had picked Kagome up at her office in an undercover squad car, a move she found appalling (didn't he own his own car?), and proceeded to drive in muted silence the entire way to the restaurant. Kagome made a mild attempt at small talk, commenting about the rain and how it hadn't let up all afternoon, asking where he got the new shirt he was wearing…nothing but simple, polite questions any stranger would ask another. His response had been silence and then more silence. Frustrated and annoyed by his apparent refusal to cooperate, she'd crossed her arms in front of her chest in a huff and refused to utter another word.

Now that they were seated at a finely polished cherry wood table, with a newly pressed white linen tablecloth and a bottle of the house red resting untouched between them, their situation had not improved. Though normally by now Kagome would have caved and said something, if only to make herself look normal to the other patrons in the restaurant, yet something had made her pause. She happened to glance up from the menu she'd been perusing in her lap only to find the Detective staring at her, or to be more specific, her chest. Realizing he'd been caught, he quickly glanced back down at his own menu and pretended as if nothing had happened. Kagome however, understood all to well what was going on.

She sat back with a satisfied smirk, knowing that her careful planning had not gone to waste. He'd been blatantly checking her out. Of course he had! She looked gorgeous. The black satin, strapless Gucci number she wore and the way her curls had been pinned to fall elegantly around her shoulders in a relaxed yet sexy coif didn't come together by accident. Every detail of her attire had been carefully selected and put together with the sole intention of getting more information out of the Detective than he was necessarily willing to give.

She'd learned long ago that to get what you want in a man's world you have to play hard ball and sometimes the best way to do that was to play the part of the Vixen. Men can't resist pining after what they can't have, especially when it's dangled before their eyes like a tantalizing treat. Every man that'd passed them on their two block walk from the parking garage to the restaurant had subtly, or not so subtly, checked her out. She'd been waiting to see if the Detective was immune to her charms, and she truly had to commend him for holding out so long, but like all the others he'd been drawn in too. Now the real game could begin. Apparently the frigid and socially inept Inuyasha Takahashi could be made to feel something - even if it was only fleeting lust. Crossing her stocking-covered legs casually, Kagome rested her menu against the table and eyed her "date".

Inuyasha could feel her eyes on him but refused to glance up. Damn harpie…He was angry with himself for allowing her to catch him. He hadn't meant to stare at her, hadn't even meant to glance in her direction, but the way her perfect breasts heaved within the confines of that tight satin dress with each breath she took had drawn him in like a moth to a burning flame. Well, there was nothing that could be done about it now. He would just have to bite the bullet and try to remain civil. The annoyingly repetitive 'tap-tap-tap-tap' of her perfectly manicured nails against the table top set his teeth on edge.

"Do you mind?" he demanded in a bored and irritated tone.

Kagome stilled her movements. Her fingers lifted from the table to hover like claws, poised and ready to strike down her prey. She fixed him with a look of mock astonishment.

"Oh! So you aren't mute after all. Here I was beginning to worry that you'd lost your tongue and our date would be a complete waste!"

Her ruby lips curled into a mocking smile as she spoke, one which Inuyasha tactfully chose to ignore. Damn bitch was baiting him. Brushing off the feeling of unease that made his hands clammy and his chest tight, he did his best to ignore her. He already felt trapped and they hadn't even been here a half hour. Burying his nose in the menu he scanned the pages but didn't absorb any of what was there.

"This isn't a date," he assured her, his voice sounding overly loud in the quiet atmosphere. The moment the words left his lips he regretted them. They sounded forced and utterly unconvincing. She looked at him as if she could smell his discomfort and he didn't like it one bit. He was used to having the upper hand but he'd gone into this one utterly unprepared and now she knew it as well as he did.

"If this isn't a date then how would you define one?" she inquired, curiously arching one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows.

Inuyasha forced his eyes to travel unseeingly over the menu, anything if it meant he didn't have to actually look at her. When he realized with frustration that he couldn't ignore her forever, and that he couldn't read a single damn thing on the menu since it was all in French, he heaved a sigh and sat back. Holding Kagome's gaze prisoner with his own he crossed his arms, mimicking her posture.

"Generally, the term 'date' would imply that you're out with someone you're interested in or enjoy being around. Since I am certainly not interested in you and don't enjoy being in your presence for any longer than is absolutely necessary, no, I would not qualify this as a date. It's business, that's it."

Kagome pouted her perfectly plumped and glossed lips at his words and tilted her head to the side inquisitively. "Are you sure you're not interested in me?" she asked sweetly as she leaned forward to rest her arms atop the table.

He knew immediately what she was referring to and replied almost too quickly with a curt, "I'm sure."

It took every ounce of willpower he had not to glance down at the perfect creamy mounds that were assuredly ready to burst forth from their black satin prison. He cleared his throat, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced up to find a waiter. Spotting one, he motioned for him to come over and subtly wiped away the faint glistening sweat that'd broken out along his brow.

"Bonsoir monsieur, mademoiselle, êtes-vous prêt à passer votre commande?" (Good evening Sir, Miss, are you ready to place your order?) The waiter's perfect Parisian French flowed off his lips like the smoothest of wines. With a curt bow he took up residence, poised and ready with his pen and pad of paper, at Inuyasha's side.

"Do you got burgers and fries here?" the Detective demanded and flipped a dismissive hand towards the menu.

To say that the waiter looked appalled would be an understatement. If his jaw could have detached itself from his head and hit the floor it would have. At Kagome's disgusted 'tsk' he turned to look at her incredulously as if to say "is this guy for real?" Smiling sweetly, she placed an order for both of them in perfect French and apologized for her date's behaviour. With an appreciative smile and a nod, Alain (according to the gold plated name tag pinned to the left side of his crisply pressed shirt) gathered their menus and set off towards the kitchen.

Kagome smiled after him, looking the part of a content and happy customer. Once his white dress shirt disappeared from view she turned a scathing glare on her date. "Do you got burgers and fries?" She mocked, imitating the naturally gruff tone of his voice. Lifting her palms upwards in an imploring gesture, she glowered at him expectantly. "Seriously?"

Takahashi shrugged his shoulders and stared off towards the darkened windows on the other side of the restaurant. He hated that she had the ability to make him feel like a complete idiot without even trying. What was it about this girl that actually made him give a damn? He'd even gone out and bought a new shirt and slacks for the occasion. It all seemed so ridiculous. One minute he hated her and the next he was practically drooling over her perfect breasts.

An image flashed before his mind of a picture he'd seen once, a long time ago. His body froze as the face blurred his vision like a waking nightmare. It was a headshot of a body laid out on the morgue slab. Though her torso had been covered in vicious, gaping slashes, her face was peaceful and unmarred. With dark hair and pale skin one could almost say she resembled the girl sitting before him now. That thought made Takahashi swallow hard…real hard. Blinking furiously to clear his eyes of the image that didn't seem to want to fade, he hastily poured himself a glass of wine and gulped it down.

"Easy there tiger," Kagome cautioned with a wry smile.

Inuyasha caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye and set his glass gently back down on the table. He didn't make a move to refill it. He studied her in silence for a moment and allowed his eyes to roam over her features one by one. After a moment he breathed a small sigh of relief. No…I was wrong. She looks nothing like her, he convinced himself with a sense of finality.

"So what did you order anyways?" he asked to break the silence between them. He'd fully intended on remaining mute for the rest of their "date" but his stomach had other ideas and growled profusely as he took in the smells of French cuisine all around them.

"Well for myself I ordered the Asian marinated yellow fin tuna on a bed of baby greens with balsamic vinaigrette sauce. For you I got the surf 'n turf – steak and shrimp. I guessed medium rare on the bloody side. Oh and a bottle of imported laeger as well. I didn't take you for a 'sipping red wine' kinda guy." Glancing askew at the half empty wine pitcher and his glass she smirked. "Apparently I was right."

She was curious to see just how close she'd been with his food order. She prided herself on being able to discern things about people simply by watching them. As if on cue the Detective raised his eyebrows at her, either out of surprise or genuine approval – she couldn't tell which. Kagome leaned forward again and peered at him curiously. Her breasts of course made another tantalizing appearance at the top of her dress, just enough to tempt the eye without being too scandalous.

"Yeah, that sounds fine," he muttered before tearing his gaze away from her again.

This damn woman just didn't let up. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair for what felt like the hundredth time and glared suspiciously at the fire. It was definitely too hot; he was sweating like a prostitute in church! He turned back to her when he heard the muffled sound of something settling hard against the table. His eyes dropped to the tape recorder sitting inconspicuously in front of him. The tape was already whirling, ready to document every earth shattering word that came out of his mouth.

"We might as well start our interview while we wait for our food," he heard her point out logically. Inuyasha continued to stare hesitantly at the reels as they moved slowly clockwise, winding more and more tape around themselves. He gave a non-committal shrug and reached for the cigarettes in his blazer pocket.

"You can't smoke in here." Her reproach sliced into his thoughts like a knife through hot butter. He paused with a cigarette halfway to his lips and shot her an exasperated look.

"Why the hell not?"

Without speaking she pointed innocently to the sign resting over the mantle of the fireplace next to them. It read, in delicately curved script: Attention: Defense de Fumeur, sil vous plait. With a defeated groan he tucked the cigarette back into its carton and shoved it into the depths of his jacket pocket. The date had just gone from bad to worse. Since when were the French ever against smoking?

"So tell me about Kikyo." He nearly choked as the words spilled uninhibited from her lips – apparently she had no compassion whatsoever.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered out, pretending as though he hadn't heard her.

He could feel her dark eyes fixed on him in an attentive stare; she was waiting to see his reaction. She would eat it up before spewing it back out in her next scathing article. An image flashed before his eyes, the same one as before. He'd spent half a decade trying to forget. Kikyo…

He blamed himself for her death. He was the one who hadn't gotten to her in time. He was the one who'd screwed up royally and because of him her killer continued to roam Japan a free man. The worst part of it all was that he still had no idea who the monster was. His mind didn't want to remember anything about her. He spent most days and nights in a drunken stupor just trying to forget, but his heart wouldn't let him. He'd loved her…loved her and lost her and even after all this time he still had no idea how he was supposed to move on.

"I said, tell me about Kikyo. You know the homicide from back in 2001, the one that you couldn't solve….the one that ruined your career? I want to know about her. What attracted you to her case? Why do you find it so hard, even now, to distance yourself from it?"

Each question was like a swift punch in the gut. By the end he was left breathless and feeling slightly queasy. He glanced longingly at the red wine wishing it was something much stronger. He needed something with a bite, something that could burn away the regret that bubbled up in his chest and threatened to strangle him.

He took in one shuddering breath and then another, each time convincing himself to draw breath again. He had to escape. The restaurant suddenly felt too confined, too smothering. He needed to feel the cool air splashed across his face, needed to breathe in its scent and let it linger in his lungs. The panic rising within his chest mixed with his anxiety over having to face his demons again. It was all too much. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears as he stood up shakily from the table and muttered something incoherent about needing to use the restroom.

The girl gaped up at him. Her eyebrows knit together with superficial concern as he stumbled away from their table, but she didn't make a move to follow him. He was thankful for it. When he finally crashed through the door to the men's restroom he was relieved to see that he was alone. The bathroom was immaculate. It had marble tiled floors and individual pedestal sinks, each with an ornate mirror gracing the wall in front of it. Inuyasha hastily turned on the nearest faucet and braced his hands on either side of the sink. He felt like he was going to be sick. A cold sweat had broken out over his body and he shivered as the cool air from the bathroom washed over his damp skin.

When the water was sufficiently cold he splashed several handfuls onto his face and braced himself over the sink once more, resting his forehead against the mirror as he did so. With his eyes closed he took in several shaky breaths and ever so slowly his body began to return to normal. After a moment, he stepped back and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. He was a mess. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was ashen and his eyes looked glassy and disoriented. The blazing amber orbs danced lazily around the mirror before they caught view of something in the background. A girl? Fuck…

"You said you'd help me," pleaded the ethereal voice from behind him. His body shook as he locked gazes with the haunted dark eyes that'd plagued his worst nightmares. "Please! You're the only one who can protect me. Don't let them get me too!" He heard himself promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He swore to her that he would keep her safe. With a strangled gasp he spun around only to find an empty bathroom staring back at him.

"I'm fucking losing it," he muttered in astonishment as he distractedly ran his fingers through his hair. He turned to gaze at his tousled reflection once more and swiped a clammy, shaking hand over his face. Get it together, get it together…

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a high pitched beep cut through the silence and echoed loudly off the marble floors. Glancing down at his belt he scanned the page coming in and nodded his head. Apparently the lab finally had some results for him. About fucking time too. He'd been trying to think up some excuse for why he had to leave his "date" early but this gave him the perfect opportunity. After taking a second to re-adjust his collar and fix his hair he strutted confidently back into the restaurant and grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair.

"Where do you think you're going?" The reporter demanded, her face a mixture of anger and disappointment. He shrugged his jacked over his shoulders and pulled out the carton of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Duty calls. I've gotta head to the lab." He shot her a confident "what can you do" smirk as he tucked a fresh cigarette behind his ear.

"What about dinner?"

The food still hadn't arrived but he wasn't in any mood to wait around for it, much less eat. Opening his wallet he pulled out a few thousand yen and dropped it on the table in front of her. "Enjoy the surf and turf and the cab home on me."

Kagome's face screwed up into a bitter sneer as she glared down her nose at his money. "I don't need your fucking money. What I need is an interview," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Leaving the money on the table, he tucked his wallet back into his jacket and shrugged at her. "Whatever. Leave a really big tip then. I'm sure Pierre over there or whatever the fuck his name is would love you forever. We'll do the interview some other time. See ya around Higurashi." He exited the restaurant without a backward glance, leaving a very pissed off reporter behind him.

Kagome narrowed her eyes and scowled at the doorway as it swung closed. Alain took exactly that moment to bring their food to the table. He set down the plate of marinated yellow fin and then looked expectantly at the empty seat across from her. Kagome rolled her eyes and suggested that perhaps he might wrap up the steak to go. Looking positively offended, the disgruntled waiter begrudgingly made his way back to the kitchen.

Once alone, Kagome snatched the tape recorder off the table and shoved it into her purse. She couldn't believe the nerve of that guy. One question and he balked and ran. Pussy, she remarked bitterly as she eyed the empty chair across from her.

Though she had to admit he'd actually looked half decent tonight. The deep red shirt he'd been wearing set off the fiery tones in his amber eyes perfectly. She almost wondered if he'd had some help picking it out. With his face shaven and his hair combed too…he wasn't half bad. Actually, he was kind of hot…but she refused to admit to herself that she found him attractive. There was absolutely no way that it'd been his confident smirk that'd caused her heart to flutter in her chest. And there was definitely no way that booze hound could ever be considered "hot"…EVER…right?

Deciding it would be best to take her aggressions out on the helpless tuna she hastily picked up her fork and began to stab it until there were several dozen pieces small enough to eat. After a second of pensive reflection she stabbed at it some more for good measure.

Damn that Takahashi. If he thinks I'm gonna let this slide he's stupider than I thought!

Shoving a delicious morsel of cooked fish into her mouth, she chewed at it thoughtfully and mused over the many, many ways she was going to make the Detective's life Hell.