Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this serial caper… especially for the one who hates formalwear. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

A Debt of Gratitude: With thanks to mine beta, Fenikkusuken.

The night of the gala…

Chapter 21
The Gala

Inuyasha impatiently tugged at the collar of his tuxedo shirt. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate formalwear?" he asked sourly.

"Yes, on numerous occasions," replied his fiancé as she patiently re-straightened his tie.

"You wear a suit all day long," Sango pointed out. "How is this any different?"

"I'm off the clock," grumbled Inuyasha, "and bow ties are stupid."

"The invitations didn't specify 'black tie', you know," Sango ventured.

"Yeah, well, remind me not to leave this stuff up to Sesshoumaru in the future," the hanyou groused, scanning the politely humming crowd that filled the Kakera Center's foyer.

"You look very nice," Kagome soothed, then steered the conversation away from what usually turned into a 'my bastard of a half-brother' rant. "So, how did you and Mr. Murasaki meet, Sango?"

Sango glanced uncomfortably at the man, who raised his brows as if he, too, was curious about the answer. "Well, I was at work… and he was there, too…" she said vaguely.

"Ooooh! An office romance!" Kagome gleefully extrapolated. "How exciting!"

"Oh, we're not going out," Sango quickly corrected. "He's… well, he's…"

"Miroku here is helping out with the investigation, Kagome," Inuyasha said, taking pity on the furiously blushing Sango. "He's that guy I was telling you about… the one who 'saw' the Bandit a few days ago."

"Yes, Mr. Murasaki is just pretending to be my date because tonight's event is by invitation only," Sango added quickly.

Unperturbed, Miroku rested his hand on Sango's shoulder. "The lady doth protest too much," he gently teased. He winked at Kagome, saying, "Mr. Taisho thought I should be here this evening, so Miss Sakamoto was prevailed upon to get me through the doors."

Sango ducked out from under his touch, treating her 'date' to a glare. "There's no need to drape yourself all over me."

"Nonsense," Miroku smiled, reaching for her hand. "You never know who might be watching."

Inuyasha's golden eyes restlessly roved over the crowd. "Keisatsu thinks it'll be tonight."

Miroku nodded easily. "I doubt your thief will be able to resist this opportunity—the front doors are wide open, there are distractions aplenty, the press is on the premises, and there are many lovely ladies to choose from. I suggest you keep Miss Higurashi close if you don't want her to become his next victim."

Sliding an arm possessively around the dark-haired woman's waist, Inuyasha confidently declared, "There's no way that bastard is getting anywhere near Kagome."

Kagome gave the hanyou a loving look before picking up the thread of conversation. "Is that why you're here then, Mr. Murasaki? You saw him, so you can identify him?"

Inuyasha snorted. "He didn't actually see the guy. He just… how did you put it?" he demanded, turning to Miroku, who heaved a longsuffering sigh.

"I was able to detect his presence—barely. The thief is definitely youkai."

"It might not seem like much, but that's more than anyone else has managed before," Sango remarked, quietly defending Miroku's accomplishment.

"I just wish Keisatsu had let me help keep watch. It's driving me crazy, leaving it to that damned wolf; he's just going to botch things up again—I can feel it," the hanyou grumbled, again tugging at his collar.

"Well… do you want a tour of the new wing?" Sango offered.

"If Kagome wants to, sure," Inuyasha replied. "It'll kill time."

Miroku chuckled, saying, "I take it you're not an art aficionado?"

"Nah. This is Sesshoumaru's thing; not mine."

Kagome craned her neck, peering over the heads of the invited guests. "Where is Sesshoumaru?"

Inuyasha waved his hand dismissively. "He's on the prowl after some new artist—said he wanted to meet the guy, maybe buy some paintings. The usual."

"Oh?" Sango asked, trying to sound casual. "Did he say which artist?"

"It was Himawari," volunteered Kagome. "Masashi Himawari."

End Note: This story owes much of its structure to the Live Journal community 30(underscore)lies, where I have a claim on Miroku. Lie #8, Pinocchio. 639 words.