(It's chapter ten already? :O
Well, as a thank you to all you guys reading and reviewing and simply because, well, it's chapter ten(!), I've decided to add some well anticipated fluff! And don't worry, it wont stop there! Enjoy!)

Story: Making deals with the Devil.
Chapter: Chapter Nine: Lust and Lies
Summary: More lust, more lies, need more be said?
Rating: T (for language and fluff).
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story, I only own the story line!

Making Deals with the Devil

Chapter Nine: Lust and Lies.

It turned out that Kate found out about their 'ruthless actions' as she so bluntly put it. Miroku picked at his frayed jeans irritably. She'd rung one of their phones that night and just as luck would have it, it had been left behind in the car. All three of them had, actually, which is what sparked her interest. Stupid, stupid move! So, she tracked the phone down, sat and watched her computer monitor for an hour and then came to the conclusion that they were up to no good. Miroku scowled to himself, the morning sun glaring down at him. She told him he'd potentially 'jeopardised the mission'. What kind of a mission would it be if there was no action involved anyway, Miroku thought to himself. Frankly, Trevor was right. Paperwork was a waste of time at this point! They knew who their target was and frankly, they had enough proof and enough evidence to arrest every single criminal involved, and keep them in jail for life. Apart from one tinything; Kate wasn't entirely convinced. Miroku nearly punched the wall next to him as he remembered her shrill voice on the phone, telling him that she needed more files, more pictures...

"Miroku!" Sango's voice made him jump, bringing him soaring back into reality, and he almost fell off his chair. Just as he steadied himself, she came strolling round the corner and stopped when she spotted him. He looked slightly flushed, if she was honest.

"Apologies! I got distracted..." Sango put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow, curious. The morning sun beat down on them both relentlessly and she couldn't help but notice how tanned he really was, now that he'd taken off that God-forsaken jacket he always wore. Miroku got up off the chair and straightened out his white t-shirt, giving her a good view of his abs, outlined through the thin material. She blinked, and then remembered to make eye-contact again.

"I got distracted, and..." Sango looked at the tiny watch on her wrist and he sighed.

"Okay, so I give up on the stupid bench! I can't level it out properly and every time I do, it's only a matter of time before it collapses again...and seriously, how do you expect me to make the garage doors 'look cleaner' when I have no gloss? Oh, and by the way, I'm dying..." He trailed off, and Sango raised the other eyebrow.

"...of heat exhaustion." She nodded, unconvinced.

"You're not a very ethical person, are you? I bet every poor bastard that comes to work for you shrivels up and dies eventually. From exhaustion or mistreatment, I'll never know." He said, and picked up a tin of paint, handing it to her. She took it from him, a hint of amusement on her face.

"You're not exactly the DIY type, are you?"

"Sorry." He mumbled. She chuckled to herself. As much as she hated to admit it, this very attractive, very dramatic and completely insane pervert, could actually be quite cute at times. Yes, cute. She walked back towards the garage and pulled hung up a small apron she'd been wearing.

"Hungry?" She almost saw his ears perk up and laughed.

"What would you like?" He pulled off one of his heavy work boots and dropped it by the garage doors with a thump.

"Anything edible?"

"It depends what you mean by edible, Kohaku's just in the other room..." Miroku looked past her to find Kohaku in the garage behind her, sitting on the very table he'd been trying to level out earlier, swinging his legs over the edge. Miroku smiled to himself and let one quiet thought flash through his mind: Please break. Again.

"Mm, see was bordering cannibalism...but then I spotted a big shinycan of beans, right there..." She turned as he pointed, to find the kitchen door open and spotted the four pack of canned beans on the table inside. Miroku pulled off his other boot.

"And thankfully, I'm converted back." She gave him a quick roll of the eyes before turning on her heels and making her way towards the kitchen. He was just about to pull of his paint-stained apron when he spotted Kohaku, who had now jumped off the, unfortunately still intact table, and was now looking through Sango's handbag. Miroku stood up tall.

"Hey...Kohaku! Did you ask for that?" He called out to him. Kohaku turned to look at Miroku, just as he slipped a note out of her purse and shoved it into his jeans pocket. He gave Miroku a convincing smile.

"Oh, yeah its OK. She said I could borrow it! Oh, and tell her I said thanks, OK?" Kohaku said, zipped his sister's bag back up, and with that, walked out of the garage and out into the street.

. . .

[ Later that evening...]

Miroku stretched his legs out as he sat in the passenger seat, once again relishing the fact that he wasn't walking. This week had been exasperating enough, without the miles of walking he had to do of a night. If only he had his damned car back, it would make everything times easier for them both. Then he remembered that he'd told Sango he'd never driven before, and decided against it. He sighed. How many more lies did he have to tell her?

"Hey, you OK?" Sango asked. He turned to look at her as she drove, noticing how tired she looked and nodded.

"Yeah. Can you believe this rain?" He asked, watching miserably as it dribbled down the windscreen. He spotted the small clock on the dashboard. 18:34. They'd finished early today, for a change. Sango braked as she rounded a corner, pulling into her road, and she immediately noticed that her driveway was empty, again. He told me he'd finish at 6...where is he?

"Takedo should be home by now." She mumbled to herself. Miroku pulled his jacket from the back seat and put it on, pulling the hood up and bracing himself as the car came to a stop outside her house.

"Maybe he just got caught up. Ring him, see where he is. He could be round the corner." He offered, although he could still see the disappointment in her eyes. How many more nights did she have to spend alone, Miroku found himself wondering. He knew for a solid fact that he would never, ever leave her alone like Takedo did. He watched as Sango got out of the car, slamming the car door shut behind her and followed, the rain immediately soaking him through; he was not looking forward to an hours walk home in this. He was just about to turn away, when Sango called to him.

"Hey, Miroku? Do you want to come in?" She asked. Miroku turned to look at her and blinked as rain dribbled into his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder why she looked so hesitant, despite her desperate gesturing towards the door.

"I best just get home-"

"-Don't be stupid!" She shouted, and unlocked the door, throwing her coat in as she did.

"Just wait in here until the rain stops." He eventually gave in and decided that maybe he would just do as he was told, for once. Besides, if it were any consolation, he'd keep her company. Sango waited until she'd locked the door and hung up both their coats before motioning for him to follow her into the living room. He could still feel rain dribbling down his neck and catching sight of her pristine, cream living room made him slightly nervous. Sango touched his arm gently, sending a small jolt down his spine. How did she do that? How did she have such an effect on me?

"Wait in here, I'll get us something to drink." She said, handing him a small coaster. He stared at it in confusion, before placing it on a small coffee next to him. He turned and watched as she disappeared out the room and then noticed for the first time that day how nice she looked. She wore blue skinny jeans, (which shaped her ass, perfectly,) with a light brown, one shoulder jumper, and a pair of brown leather boots to match. She looked casual, but sexy. Miroku sat down on the largest couch in the room, a beautiful cream set-probably worth more than him. Careful not to touch more than necessary, Miroku took in his surroundings; A few rugs, some expensive arm chairs, a long pair of beautifully cut curtains, draped in front of a huge set of patio doors. There was a huge fireplace on the far wall, decorated with cards and candles. A single picture frame sat in the centre. It was a picture of Sango and an older man. And they looked happy. The rest of the room was cluttered with smaller picture frames, photo-albums and more candles. It occurred to Miroku then, that this was more like walking into a married couples home. With children.

"Hey, I have some wine left over from yesterday, want to share it?" Miroku whirled round to see Sango standing in the doorway, holding out a huge bottle of vintage red. He grinned.

"I hope it's not strong..." He warned as she moved over to the small, pine coffee table by the couch.

"You're a lightweight?" She teased, placing two large wineglasses on the table in front of him. He laughed softly.

"Unrestrainable, actually." He confessed. She poured them both a glass and then sat down next to him, exhaustion overwhelming her. Who knew that a few weeks off the job could be more stressful than actually being on the job. After a few minutes of content silence, Miroku tapped her arm. She looked at him to find him gazing up at the picture on the mantelpiece, a look of question in his eyes.

"That's my father." She told him, her voice suddenly very quiet. He noticed how she began to fiddle with hem of her top.

"He passed away a few years ago. He was a lovely man." He saw sadness in her eyes again, something he couldn't bear to have uprooted, and took her hand gently in his own and pulled it away from her top.

"I regret not having the honour of meeting him, Sango." He replied, making her smile again. He was always so quick to think of others...and why did he have to be so charming about it? He always knows how to make me smile. Suddenly aware he was still holding her hand, she moved to pick up her wine glass, breaking the contact.

"What about you...your family?" She asked. Miroku took a small sip from his own glass and then smiled at her.

"Well, my father also died, but when I was very young. Cancer." He said, and then sipped at his drink again. She watched his mouth as he took slow, cautious sips, and wondered very briefly what it would be like to kiss those lips. He seemed to catch her staring then, and Sango's eyes quickly settled on the floor instead.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What about your mother? Did she take care of you when your father had passed away?" She asked. Miroku shrugged.

"She tried, I suppose. After a few months I went into care and she moved away."

"Away?" Miroku put down his glass with a heavy sigh. He wasn't used to this-people knowing his business. He hated that feeling of vulnerability he felt when knowing somebody realised he'd been an orphan. An outcast, they'd think. Abandoned. Abused? They'd suspect something was wrong with him. A potential psychopath, just like his mother. He shook the thoughts away and ran his fingers through his hair.

"To a home, or something. They told me it was a special place for her to get better. That's what I was supposed to believe, when I was eight. I don't think she ever left that place, or if she ever will. For her own safety." He said. The words hit Sango like a tonne of bricks. What was he saying? His mother was in care herself? Was it a ward...a mental asylum? Before she could probe further, he suddenly got up from the couch and pointed towards the door.

"Mind if I use the bathroom?" Sango, still deep in thought, jumped up and put her own glass down.

"Sure, just to your right when you get to the top!" She said, and then disappeared into the kitchen. Once she'd gone, Miroku made his way up the carpeted stairs and headed straight for the nearest door. Opening it, he found a small storage room. The second was a guest bedroom, and the third...her bedroom. He quickly spotted the double bed and sighed. Their bedroom. Taking a quick look, back over his shoulder, he pushed the door open and immediately spotted the computer in the corner of the room. He blinked. Twice. Gingerly, he walked towards it, and then tapped a finger onto the mouse, his heart thudding as the screen came to life. He couldn't believe it. He was in! He had Takedo's computer! Heart racing, Miroku quickly found the internet and logged into his personal e-mail account, immediately clicking on the name 'Clarke'.

Sent:
To: Clarke 19:04
Clarke? Are you there? Hell, who even cares...I'm telling you this anyway. I'm in! I'll have everything ready for you tomorrow.

Reporting live, from Sir Takedo's home computer. ;)

Received:
To: Miroku 19:05
Fucking jammy bastard. Kate's not going to love you, but show me what you've got and we'll send it right over. This is make or break time.

Nice one, buddy.

. . .

Miroku peered into the living room from the doorway, checking to see if Sango was there. He smiled when he caught her fussing in front of a huge mirror that hung on the wall, tugging at her fringe then pulling it back, before tugging it forwards again. She made a little irritable noise, which Miroku found to be quite funny and he laughed softly as he walked back into the room. His shoes now discarded, he had learned to respect that paying out for a good carpet, meant happy feet. He watched as she blushed a little, and then as she looked back to check how they were doing for wine. Miroku noticed something off about her then, something that made him cautious. Had she spotted him upstairs, scrolling through all Takedo's personal files and transferring them onto each of his separate e-mail accounts? Miroku shifted uncomfortably as he sat on the couch.

"Are you OK, Sango? You seem a little..." He didn't know what to say, but he knew she was upset about something. Sango took a few pins out of her hair and then shook her head as a few loose curls tumbled around her shoulders. He had never thought of long hair to be sexy before, but in that moment he vowed to always do so. Momentarily distracted by her tousling and fussing, he just about caught what she was saying as she turned to him.

"...so he told me he was still at work. He's probably still there now. He always does this too me..." She paused to take a sip of her wine.

"I know that all I ever talk about when you're around me is him...but you have to understand that I'm trying to figure out where I stand in all of this." Miroku opened his mouth to say something, but Sango held a hand up to stop him. She needed to say this, she needed to get it off her chest. So he let her.

"I just feel lonely. I feel like, I don't know...some silly housewife who nags for attention all day and I don't want to feel like that!" By the way she bit her lip then, Miroku guessed she was on the brink of tears. Wasn't it times like these that scared men away...Miroku thought. Yet, for some strange reason, Miroku felt the strong urge to hug her; tell her that everything would be okay, tell her to leave Takedo, tell her that he wasn't worth her tears. Instead, he sat in silence, practising restraint, respecting that at times like this he didn't need to complicate her life anymore than it already was. She paced in front of him, a wine glass in one hand and a few clips in the other.

"I want to feel wanted. I want him to come home and want me. I know it's strange, I shouldn't be telling you this but we hardly ever sleep in the same room anymore. He falls asleep downstairs, watching the TV and you know how that make me feel? Useless. I feel ugly and unattractive. I make an effort to impress him and he throws it back in my face. I make him dinner, he says he's already eaten. I suggest a weekend break, he says he's got too much work. I rent out movies, he falls asleep during the trailers. I even offer him sexfor Christ's sake! And what does he do?" Miroku fell silent as Sango stared at him in exasperation and he wondered if he should try to answer that question for her. Her words failing her, she wiped her eyes of the tears Miroku hadn't noticed, and then sank down onto the far end of the couch.

"He tells me he's tired. Too tired for me." She put her head in her hands. Miroku unclenched his fist and let out a breath.

"Sango-"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I told you all of that...like you don't have enough problems on your plate, there's goes me, putting a complete downer on your night." He grabbed her hand pulled it towards him.

"You don't have to apologise...I'm a good listener, you know?" She nodded.

"Has my mascara run?" She asked, embarrassed. He laughed, letting go of her hand to brush a stray tear from under her eye.

"Like you care..." he muttered, fondly. Sango smiled and leaned into the warmth of his hand, feeling completely ashamed of herself and completely at peace at the same time. How was it that this man, this complete stranger that she'd only known for a few weeks, had become someone she'd learnt to trust? Could she trust him? She knew what the answer was, but common sense had her in denial and she hated it.

"You want my honest...honest opinion?" He asked. Sango peered up at him from under her fringe and nodded. Then he completely surprised her. He leaned forward, wrapping his strong arms around her; one around her waist and one on her back, his left hand coming to rest on the back of her head, pulling her into him. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled her scent. She was driving him insane, couldn't she see that? He tightened his fist into her hair, gently.

"He's selfish. He's ungrateful. He's a shit, shit boyfriend. I'm not going to pretend I like him anymore, Sango, because I don't. I'm not going to pretend it's going to get better...because there's a chance it might not. Sometimes people are simply too caught up in themselves to stop and realise what's right in front of them. I know, I've been there, and it sucks. You feel like a shadow just following them round all day, hoping every once in a while they'll remember you're still there." He tightened his hold on her, closing his eyes.

"That's why...I hate it when you talk about him. I hate hearing his name, because frankly it makes me mad when a man can't even attempt to appreciate what he doesn't deserve." He smiled, sadly.

"I hate thinking that I can do better." He whispered. He felt her tense slightly then and he bit his lip, knowing full well he'd ruined it.

"Sango?" She straightened up then, pushed his hard chest away from her slightly and then moved back in, her lips brushing against his. Electricity shot through them both, and Miroku clenched his jaw. It was wrong. All of those things I said...I didn't mean them. I was just being selfish, Sango... Her fingers found his chin before they ran along his jaw bone, finally stopping on either side of his face. Miroku felt her hesitate for a second, before his resolve finally broke and his lips crashed into hers. She sighed, a happy, content sound as she fought for control. She felt his hands, itching to move from their respectable spot on her back, and hoped to God he'd move them. She tried to think straight, tried to reason with herself, but then he tilted her head back, breaking the kiss for a brief second, and she felt his hot breath on her neck, scattering her thoughts. She met his lips again and her fingers tangled themselves into his soft hair.

"Sango..." She tasted wine on his tongue, heard the low moan in the back of his throat and felt his fingers trailing down her spine. She shivered. She suddenly felt her back press against the couch beneath her, a feeling of giddiness washing over her as he suddenly broke the kiss.

"Sango! I'm sorry. Oh shit, I'm so sorry..." He lay, half-on her, half-off her, gasping for air. She was scared, she was ashamed...but her heart skipped when she saw his lips, slightly parted and bruised from her eagerness. She remembered how he'd said her name earlier and her stomach took a back flip.

"Oh God...there's me giving advice on relationships, and I go and fuck one up." She barely heard him as he lifted himself up, instead watching as he straightened his shirt out and ran a hand through his thick hair. His breathing was still shallow and he fought to control it. How did she do that? He had so much restraint when it came to women. Years of being alone had taught him how to appreciate life without the lust and the sex appeal. He knew how to stop, and when to stop...so why did he loose control like that? He felt her sit up beside him.

"It's okay..."

"No...no it's not. Oh fuck." He bent down to pick up the small pile of clips she'd dropped earlier, and bit his lip, all at once tasting her. She was incredible.

"Will you stop swearing? You're blowing this all out of proportion..."

"I'm blowing it out of proportion? I fucking-" He sighed and stopped what he was doing.

"I kissed you. I shouldn't have...and I did. What the hell's wrong with me?" Sango snatched the clips from his hand, flustered.

"You're overreacting, Miroku. Let's just talk this through, like adults, OK?" Miroku let out a breathless laugh.

"You would say that..."

"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, there's this thing...when a woman's aroused, the danger part in the brain or the part that deals with consequence, or something, it switches off like a fucking light-bulb-"

"-What the hell are you talking about!" She asked. He grabbed her face in both hands.

"You're temporarily deluded!" He blurted. That's when Sango burst out laughing. Actually, she didn't know if she was crying orlaughing, but she sat there, her shoulders shaking, feeling incredibly stupid and incredibly amazed at how this man could make her laugh at such a fragile moment. He stroked the side of her face closed his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

"And any minute now you'll realise...and you'll tell me that I'm stupid, and that I should have thought about everything and that...oh, I don't know. Tell me to go, Sango. Just tell me to walk out...because I've ruined it all." He mumbled. Sango put a finger to his lips.

"Shut up." She sighed. A few seconds passed before the sound of tyres grinding against gravel could be heard from outside, making Miroku quickly pull away, his heart racing. Sango grabbed the two glasses on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen, before returning to fetch the wine bottle. Miroku made for the stairs. All too soon he heard Takedo's voice, and Miroku paused behind the bathroom door as he closed it softly. Dammit...dammit! He pressed an ear to the door and listened as Sango turned on the kitchen taps, busying herself with the washing.

"Hey, baby." She said cheerfully, and there was a brief moment of silence as she kissed

him-something that made Miroku's heart sink. Miserably, he reached over to turn on the bathroom taps and let them run for a few seconds. What would this mean for the mission? What if Sango got caught up in all of this. Could he deal with that? Could he keep a secret for as long as it took him to fall for her? He reached over to turn the taps off and then opened the door again. He found Takedo hanging up his coat as he reached the bottom of the stairs and nodded at him.

"Mr. Kobayashi, evening." He greeted. Takedo turned to look at Sango curiously, who smiled and reached for a tea-towel.

"Is that all you need?" She asked Miroku. Miroku nodded, his face feeling hot as he shook Takedo's hand firmly.

"Yes, just had to use the bathroom. Apologies, Mr. Kobayashi. Goodnight to the both of you." He said. Sango ignored him and sucked in one cheek, her heart sinking as Takedo opened the door to let him out into the cold night.

Goodnight, Miroku.

. . .

Hope you guys enjoyed this! I know I did :')

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