"H-hey, dad," Sango sputtered. She watched him as he made his way onto the porch with a couple of bags in tow. He looked really upset and tired. She was relieved that it might not be her going out that had him all grumpy, but she was curious about what was bothering him.

"Hello, sir. My name is Miroku, I mowed your lawn earlier today," he stuck out his hand. Sango's dad shook it tightly, but she could tell he was distracted and had his mind on something else.

"Nice to meet you. You did a good job cutting the grass, you'll have to come help me out another time," Sango's father said to Miroku. He looked to Sango and gave her a drained smile, "Have a good time, you two. Don't stay out too late." He kissed his daughter on the cheek and went in the house, leaving Miroku and Sango alone on the porch once again.

"He seems nice," Miroku said. Sango wasn't buying it for one minute, however. While she really wanted to go check on her dad, she figured it would be better to just let him have some alone time. She'd talk to him later.

"Ready to go?" Miroku asked. Sango nodded and the two headed to the big black truck that sat in front of her house for the third time that day. He opened the passenger door and helped her into the giant car, then settled himself in the driver's seat. They sat in silence for a short moment.

"Sooo," the sing-song voice Miroku was using made Sango crack a smile, "We never really decided where we're going or what we're doing this evening. Any ideas?"

"There's this new ice cream shop that opened up near the museum. It's called Mimi's, I think."

"Sounds like a plan," Miroku started the truck and began to drive down the street. An old R&B song Sango liked as a kid bumped on the radio. She bobbed her head to the tune and mouthed the words. Miroku took note and turned it up a little. "Thanks," she said.

"You like this song?" he asked.

"Yeah, my friends and I used to make all kinds of dances to these songs," she laughed and shared a story about them performing a particular music video word for word and recording it.

"Oh, I've gotta see that!" Miroku joked.

"You're never seeing it! I can't even watch it without getting so embarrassed! We were such losers!" They both laughed and sang along to another hit from their childhoods.

When they finally made it to the ice cream shop, they opted to take their dessert to go and went for a walk through the museum grounds. They walked and talked and ate their ice cream, and Sango felt great about the evening she was having. She finally got the chance to ask Miroku about why he left school.

"It was too expensive for me. Even though I was awarded multiple scholarships and grants, working between classes, and had money coming in from a close family friend at home it still wasn't enough. I was busting my butt in class and at work, but the stress of making tuition payments just got to me."

"Do you miss it?" she asked before taking a final spoonful of her cookie dough ice cream.

"Sometimes, yeah. I really did like the classes I was taking, and I miss the friends I made while I was there. I just think it was the best decision for me to leave. I don't regret it," Miroku said confidently.

"What did you study while you were there?" she asked him, avoiding the pity she felt for him even though he sounded secure in his decision.

"Believe it or not, I was a nursing student. I wanted to work with kids who were sick, from the chicken pox to stage four cancer. I kind of fell out of it around the time I was debating leaving, but I never decided what I wanted to switch to." He took both of their ice cream cups and threw them into a garbage can.

"Nursing, really?" Sango was both interested and amused. She could see him being a good nurse, but at the same time still couldn't picture it, "You'd be Nurse Miroku, ha!"

"It sounded like a good idea when I had on the scrubs and stethoscope during our hospital visits for training," he joined in laughing.

"But what's your major? Wait, let me guess. Psychology?"

"Nope."

"Biology?"

"Nope."

"Interpretive dance?"

"What? No!" Sango snorted at that one. "Communications, I'm into radio."

"That sounds fun. So do you want to do talk radio or introduce yourself as 'DJ Sango spinnin' the tracks that make you come back'?" he asked as he mimed scratching records on a turntable.

"Definitely the last one!" Sango wrapped her arms around herself. It was only late spring and temperature was dropping as the day went on. The ice cream didn't help either. "I'm not really a fan of pop radio though. Pop music is OK, but I hate that they play the same songs every hour so I listen to specialized stations that play all kinds of songs from different decades and genres."

"I have some really good mix CDs I've picked up over the years. I could let you borrow some if you want. Or I could make you one," he offered, "I've gotten nothing but positive reviews on my mix tapes." He walked with his chin stuck up in the air with a goofy grin on his face.

Sango giggled and ran her hands up and down her arms, "Sure, I'd really like that."

Miroku glanced at Sango and took the hint. He took his jean jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. She thanked him and pretended not to notice that his amazing arms were now exposed. His jacket smelled like the cologne she smelled on him earlier. The scent was intoxicating and Sango wouldn't mind smelling it forever.

They walked together through the pretty gardens on the museum grounds and were even able to watch the sunset from a nearby bench. They talked some more about all kinds of things: the latest scary movie they saw, how waffles were better than pancakes, the perfect pan of spaghetti Miroku can make, Sango' decent piano skills, and what the best Starburst flavor was. This sparked a friendly argument the entire ride back to Sango's house.

"What do you mean the red ones are the best? Pink is the best, just accept it!" Sango chided.

Miroku made a noise with his mouth and took a hand off the steering wheel to shoo her and her opinion away, "You're crazy, red is the best flavor of anything! Slushies, other candy, drinks… Red is the best!"

"No, green is the best! You know what you're getting with green. It'll usually be green apple or lime," Sango explained. "Red is tricky because you'll get cherry or strawberry, but it might taste like cough syrup!"

"OK, you've got me there. I just bought a drink yesterday that tasted like everything wrong with the world," Miroku shook his head. They laughed as they pulled up to Sango's house. The light in her father's room was on and Sango remembered that she still wanted to talk to him.

A smooth song played on the radio, the singer's sweet voice filling the silence that suddenly fell on the truck. It was a comfortable quiet though, soothing and fulfilling nothing in particular. It felt nice, balanced.

Miroku leaned his head on his seat, looking at Sango with a pleasant smile on his face. "Well, Sango, I'd say that this has been a wonderful evening, but that would be an understatement. It was great," he said. Sango was blushing and hoped Miroku couldn't see her.

"That's a lovely shade of red you're turning," he said with a chuckle. She instinctively shot a hand up to her cheeks to mask the hot flush. She was making a mental note to really look into that blood vessel surgery when Miroku took hold of her hand, brushing her face lightly and held it in her lap.

"It's pretty. You're pretty."

Oh my G—

Sango's phone rang from inside the small bag she brought with her tonight and saw that her father was calling her. She freed her hand to answer it, "Dad?"

"I think it's time for you to come in now. Tell your friend goodnight," her father said quickly before ending the call.

Sango leaned past Miroku to see the curtains in her father's room swinging closed. She put the same hand back to her cheek then to her mouth. She was stunned!

"I uh… oh God umm," she stumbled as she put her phone away, "I had a good time tonight." She said those words meaningfully and looked him right in the eyes, though they immediately darted to the window above. Miroku turned the car off, unbuckled his seatbelt, and walked around to let Sango out of the car. He held her hand as he led her to the porch and squeezed it while he bent down to whisper, "Don't be mad at him, he's just being a dad."

They stopped in front of the door and he rubbed Sango's arms, then leaned in and kissed her on a still burning cheek. He smiled down at her and said, "I'll see you soon, OK?"

Sango nodded and covered one of his hands on her arm with her own. She went to take his jacket off, but he put it back around her. He said he would come back and get it, "It's just another reason to come see you."

The living room light turned on and shone through the small window at the top of the door and Sango stepped back away from Miroku. "Get some sleep, Sango," Miroku winked and began walking back to his truck. She stood and watched him, not even turning around when her father opened the front door. He was talking to her but she barely heard a word because she was flying away, a weightless drift carrying her high about the house and the trees and the clouds.