::Author's Notes::
Feh, this server is acting oddly. It must take a while for it to update something because I replaced Chapter One with an edited version. (It was sorta messed up:}) . . . so, however. I won't hold you; read on:
Oh wait, by the way -- ::cuts and pastes:: -- I don't own Inu-Yasha or any of it's characters, my heroine Rumiko Takahashi has that honor. I am making zero profit from this work other than my own amusement and perhaps the amusement of others. ::Bows:: Just thought I'd get all this legal crap out of my way -- the last thing I need is a lawsuit.
Here we go!
Fate's Ways
Chapter Two
Traditional First Insults and Ego Wounds
By Jann
"This may come as a shocker, Kag, but I don't think this is head trauma," Hojou reflected as Kagome walked in. The police officers were just leaving, having dumped the body, and therefore the paperwork, into the morgue's collective lap. He opened a cabinet and retreived a digital camera with a huge, old fashioned flash-bulb flash attached.
"You know, I don't think it was arrow-trauma either," Kagome said after a moment or two. "Even if these are extremly sharp, the ER should have been able to help him. But he was pronounced on the scene, am I correct?"
"Yep . . . Look at this, Higurashi," Hojou marveled, sidestepping around the table with the suite's camera. "These arrows definatly aren't new. They're not even plastic." He knelt down to get a profile veiw and took a picture, the bright flash illuminating everything.
"Must be hunting arrows," Kagome speculated, pulling a mask over her mouth as she bent in to look.
"People still hunt with arrows?" Hojou asked. He bent down and pulled a stool out from under the stationary table. He stood up on his tip-toes and took what they called a "bird's-eye-veiw" shot.
"Jii-san used to take me bow hunting all the time when I was a teenager," Kagome said. She cocked her head to one side to look down into the wounds.
"Doesn't really sound like there's much sport in that," Hojou said with a shrug. He took a photo from the head end.
"Really now; and what do you consider 'sport'?" Kagome teased.
"Gimme a rifle, a salt lick and a pack of cards and THAT is hunting," Hojou said.
"It's sporty to lure a stupid animal to lick the ground so you can blow it's head off?"
"When you say it, it sounds bad."
"What else am I here for?"
The cordless telephone rang from the scale counter. They like to keep a cordless in the suite so if one of them wasn't doing anything messy, it could still be answered. Where it was, exactly, they were never sure, but they knew it was there and the helpless rings were enough to keep them searching.
"That's what you're here for," Hojou said, as if the ring had come on cue. "You wanna get that? I'm almost done here."
Kagome headed for the scale coutner and lifted a bunch of clean smocks. No go. The phone rang again. She looked behind the jars and the jarring fluids, but she didn't see it and the telelohone continued to cry for her.
"Try the glove cuboard," Hojou suggested.
Kagome opened the cupboard. "Why the blue hell would it be in here?"
There was the phone, a sleek black hunk of plastic, making the most annoying, incessant noises she'd ever heard. "Hojou, you have some weird organizational systems. "Fairveiw Morgue, Homocide Department. This is Dr. Higurashi speaking."
"You forgot 'Kagome,' " Hojou reminded her in a stage whisper, but Kagome just waved him off.
"Miroku!" a faraway voice chided over a lot of background. "Look, lady. We just want the car that Mr. Myoga called and reserved for us and as much as he begs and pleads, we don't want you, or anyone else, in it."
"He doesn't mean that," came another faint voice.
"Oh yes I do."
"Excuse me sir, I think perhaps you have the wrong number," Kagome began.
"I'm looking for Fairveiw Morgue on Fairveiw Boulevard. I want the suite with Kohaku Zackow's body in it," the first voice ordered.
"One second." Kagome pressed the hold button. "Hey, Hojou; check that toe-tag. What's this kid's name?"
Hojou snapped another quick picture. Then he went to the end of the table and checked the right big toe. "We've got a Kohaku Zackow."
Kagome took her finger off the hold button.
"Thank you. We're all set right? Myoga got the paperwork done over the phone?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
There was the a slam. "Miroku! GET IN HERE! We don't have all day!"
"Sir?" Kagome asked meekly.
"Yeah. You figure it out?" the voice asked.
"You have the correct suite. May I ask why you're calling?" Kagome asked.
"Yeah. Agent Ash and I'll be there a little early. Give us a half an hour," he told her.
"Back up, sir. I can't admit you unless I know who you are. 'Agent,' you said?" Kagome asked, already disgusted. They weren't going to bring the feds in, were they?
"Didn't you get the papers yet? Dr. Higurashi and Dr. Miller. I'm Special Agent Oniiyoukai. Special Agent Ash and I are asigned to this case," he informed her.
"Hojou, did we get any paperwork with this that said the feds were coming in?" Kagome demanded.
"Lemme look . . ." Hojou riffled through a few file folders. "Yeah, we did. Oniiyoukai and Ash, right?"
"Damnit," Kagome muttered. The feds were even worse than the local police department. At the people from the P.D. knew she and Hojou were competant enough to get their own work done; the people from the bureau marched right in and took over. "You're right, Agent Oniiyoukai. Half an hour, you said?"
"Gee, don't get too excited over it," he mumbled.
"We're about to start the autopsy, Agent Oniiyoukai." That wasn't entirly true; they were just taking photos. Or Hojou was, anyway. But they would have to take the arrows out to do a frontal report, when they were finished with the back.
"Well maybe you should go through your files a little more thouroughly before you do something stupid like that," Inu-Yasha snapped. "We want to be there for the autopsy."
"Then we'll see you in a half an hour, Agent Oniiyoukai," Kagome said. Then she hung up.
"Kag, did you just give the feddies the moral equivilant of the finger?" Hojou demanded, finishing off the role of film.
"Well . . ."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he muttered. "So I guess we can't start the y-incision until they get here, right?"
"Right," Kagome sighed. "Thirty minutes."
"Okay. Help me stick Kohaku here in the fridge until then. We can finished up with Johnny on this other table," he suggested.
The two of them transported Kohaku's body to a rolling table and then to an empty cell in the freezer. "I'll finish cleaning up here if you get the form filled out for Doe."
"You got yourself a deal. Again."
+++
"The bitch hung up on me!" Inu-Yasha cried increduously.
"You just don't know how to treat a woman," Miroku accused. He had quickly gotten over the desk clerk at the Hertz center. His tall, gangly frame was bent over in his seat, playing "snake" on his cell phone.
"Pfft. Like you do?" Inu-Yasha demanded, turning into the Holiday Inn.
"I have a way," Miroku swaggered
"Yeah, we all see them lining up, Miroku," Inu-Yasha mumbled. He put the vehicle in park and got out, shoving his keys into the pocket of his black slacks. He took the blazer off the back of his seat and put it back on before slamming his door and heading around to the trunk.
"Well, you'd just give me a chance . . ." Miroku began, taking his own suit case out of the back.
"You may never know just how much humilation I've saved you over the years," Inu-Yasha told his partner before closing the trunk as well.
"Yeah, yeah," Miroku mumbled.
They stepped into the lobby of the hotel and stepped in front of the desk. Inu-Yasha sighed inwardly of releif when he saw the clerk was a teenage boy. At least he didn't have to worry about Miroku; for once.
"Welcome to the Holiday Inn. How can I help you?"
"Yeah, we have a couple of rooms reserved by a Mr. Myoga. They should be under 'Oniiyoukai' and 'Ash.' " Inu-Yasha told him.
"Ashleigh!" the clerk called into the back office. "Grab the desk until Tish gets back!"
"Ashleigh?" Miroku asked innocently.
"This way, sir," the boy said. He left the counter and, taking suitcases, head towards the elevator.
"He said this way, Miroku, not towards the new desk-lady," Inu-Yasha growled, grabbing Miroku by the ear and following the teenager into the elevator.
"Owowow!" Miroku hissed feebly.
The elevator took them up three floors. The boy led them past a gameroom and a bar and down another hall before he reached three-twenty-seven and three-twenty-eight. "Here are your rooms, sirs, thank you for choosing Holiday Inn." He set their bags down beside the door. After Inu-Yasha had given him a couple dollars, he left them their keys and went back the way he had come.
The rooms were mirror images of each other. They were large with a full-sized bed each and not much else. Inu-Yasha threw his suitcase down beside the bed and turned to meet a mirror.
For a spilt second, he could have sworn he'd see something other than his reflection. Or a reflection his own, but warped. His long, dark hair was for a split second, silver and it seemed insane, but had those been dog ears on his head?
His shook his head vigorously and straightened his tie. He opened the door to find no less than Miroku flirting with one of the maids, who was giggling and playing with the small ponytail at the nape of his neck.
"Oi! Miroku! Your wife's on the phone!" he called over to them, holding a dead cell phone in his partner's general direction.
Inu-Yasha grinned devilishly when the maid's expression turned sour and she smacked him, grabbed her mop and stalked off. Miroku slumped over and scowled when Inu-Yasha approached him. "Damnit, Miroku, do I need to get you spayed?! Let's go."
::Author's Notes::
Well, well, well . . . this will probably get slightly supernatural . . . hence the name "Fate's Ways" . . . cackles . . . R+R is greatly appreciated.
Feh, this server is acting oddly. It must take a while for it to update something because I replaced Chapter One with an edited version. (It was sorta messed up:}) . . . so, however. I won't hold you; read on:
Oh wait, by the way -- ::cuts and pastes:: -- I don't own Inu-Yasha or any of it's characters, my heroine Rumiko Takahashi has that honor. I am making zero profit from this work other than my own amusement and perhaps the amusement of others. ::Bows:: Just thought I'd get all this legal crap out of my way -- the last thing I need is a lawsuit.
Here we go!
Fate's Ways
Chapter Two
Traditional First Insults and Ego Wounds
By Jann
"This may come as a shocker, Kag, but I don't think this is head trauma," Hojou reflected as Kagome walked in. The police officers were just leaving, having dumped the body, and therefore the paperwork, into the morgue's collective lap. He opened a cabinet and retreived a digital camera with a huge, old fashioned flash-bulb flash attached.
"You know, I don't think it was arrow-trauma either," Kagome said after a moment or two. "Even if these are extremly sharp, the ER should have been able to help him. But he was pronounced on the scene, am I correct?"
"Yep . . . Look at this, Higurashi," Hojou marveled, sidestepping around the table with the suite's camera. "These arrows definatly aren't new. They're not even plastic." He knelt down to get a profile veiw and took a picture, the bright flash illuminating everything.
"Must be hunting arrows," Kagome speculated, pulling a mask over her mouth as she bent in to look.
"People still hunt with arrows?" Hojou asked. He bent down and pulled a stool out from under the stationary table. He stood up on his tip-toes and took what they called a "bird's-eye-veiw" shot.
"Jii-san used to take me bow hunting all the time when I was a teenager," Kagome said. She cocked her head to one side to look down into the wounds.
"Doesn't really sound like there's much sport in that," Hojou said with a shrug. He took a photo from the head end.
"Really now; and what do you consider 'sport'?" Kagome teased.
"Gimme a rifle, a salt lick and a pack of cards and THAT is hunting," Hojou said.
"It's sporty to lure a stupid animal to lick the ground so you can blow it's head off?"
"When you say it, it sounds bad."
"What else am I here for?"
The cordless telephone rang from the scale counter. They like to keep a cordless in the suite so if one of them wasn't doing anything messy, it could still be answered. Where it was, exactly, they were never sure, but they knew it was there and the helpless rings were enough to keep them searching.
"That's what you're here for," Hojou said, as if the ring had come on cue. "You wanna get that? I'm almost done here."
Kagome headed for the scale coutner and lifted a bunch of clean smocks. No go. The phone rang again. She looked behind the jars and the jarring fluids, but she didn't see it and the telelohone continued to cry for her.
"Try the glove cuboard," Hojou suggested.
Kagome opened the cupboard. "Why the blue hell would it be in here?"
There was the phone, a sleek black hunk of plastic, making the most annoying, incessant noises she'd ever heard. "Hojou, you have some weird organizational systems. "Fairveiw Morgue, Homocide Department. This is Dr. Higurashi speaking."
"You forgot 'Kagome,' " Hojou reminded her in a stage whisper, but Kagome just waved him off.
"Miroku!" a faraway voice chided over a lot of background. "Look, lady. We just want the car that Mr. Myoga called and reserved for us and as much as he begs and pleads, we don't want you, or anyone else, in it."
"He doesn't mean that," came another faint voice.
"Oh yes I do."
"Excuse me sir, I think perhaps you have the wrong number," Kagome began.
"I'm looking for Fairveiw Morgue on Fairveiw Boulevard. I want the suite with Kohaku Zackow's body in it," the first voice ordered.
"One second." Kagome pressed the hold button. "Hey, Hojou; check that toe-tag. What's this kid's name?"
Hojou snapped another quick picture. Then he went to the end of the table and checked the right big toe. "We've got a Kohaku Zackow."
Kagome took her finger off the hold button.
"Thank you. We're all set right? Myoga got the paperwork done over the phone?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
There was the a slam. "Miroku! GET IN HERE! We don't have all day!"
"Sir?" Kagome asked meekly.
"Yeah. You figure it out?" the voice asked.
"You have the correct suite. May I ask why you're calling?" Kagome asked.
"Yeah. Agent Ash and I'll be there a little early. Give us a half an hour," he told her.
"Back up, sir. I can't admit you unless I know who you are. 'Agent,' you said?" Kagome asked, already disgusted. They weren't going to bring the feds in, were they?
"Didn't you get the papers yet? Dr. Higurashi and Dr. Miller. I'm Special Agent Oniiyoukai. Special Agent Ash and I are asigned to this case," he informed her.
"Hojou, did we get any paperwork with this that said the feds were coming in?" Kagome demanded.
"Lemme look . . ." Hojou riffled through a few file folders. "Yeah, we did. Oniiyoukai and Ash, right?"
"Damnit," Kagome muttered. The feds were even worse than the local police department. At the people from the P.D. knew she and Hojou were competant enough to get their own work done; the people from the bureau marched right in and took over. "You're right, Agent Oniiyoukai. Half an hour, you said?"
"Gee, don't get too excited over it," he mumbled.
"We're about to start the autopsy, Agent Oniiyoukai." That wasn't entirly true; they were just taking photos. Or Hojou was, anyway. But they would have to take the arrows out to do a frontal report, when they were finished with the back.
"Well maybe you should go through your files a little more thouroughly before you do something stupid like that," Inu-Yasha snapped. "We want to be there for the autopsy."
"Then we'll see you in a half an hour, Agent Oniiyoukai," Kagome said. Then she hung up.
"Kag, did you just give the feddies the moral equivilant of the finger?" Hojou demanded, finishing off the role of film.
"Well . . ."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he muttered. "So I guess we can't start the y-incision until they get here, right?"
"Right," Kagome sighed. "Thirty minutes."
"Okay. Help me stick Kohaku here in the fridge until then. We can finished up with Johnny on this other table," he suggested.
The two of them transported Kohaku's body to a rolling table and then to an empty cell in the freezer. "I'll finish cleaning up here if you get the form filled out for Doe."
"You got yourself a deal. Again."
+++
"The bitch hung up on me!" Inu-Yasha cried increduously.
"You just don't know how to treat a woman," Miroku accused. He had quickly gotten over the desk clerk at the Hertz center. His tall, gangly frame was bent over in his seat, playing "snake" on his cell phone.
"Pfft. Like you do?" Inu-Yasha demanded, turning into the Holiday Inn.
"I have a way," Miroku swaggered
"Yeah, we all see them lining up, Miroku," Inu-Yasha mumbled. He put the vehicle in park and got out, shoving his keys into the pocket of his black slacks. He took the blazer off the back of his seat and put it back on before slamming his door and heading around to the trunk.
"Well, you'd just give me a chance . . ." Miroku began, taking his own suit case out of the back.
"You may never know just how much humilation I've saved you over the years," Inu-Yasha told his partner before closing the trunk as well.
"Yeah, yeah," Miroku mumbled.
They stepped into the lobby of the hotel and stepped in front of the desk. Inu-Yasha sighed inwardly of releif when he saw the clerk was a teenage boy. At least he didn't have to worry about Miroku; for once.
"Welcome to the Holiday Inn. How can I help you?"
"Yeah, we have a couple of rooms reserved by a Mr. Myoga. They should be under 'Oniiyoukai' and 'Ash.' " Inu-Yasha told him.
"Ashleigh!" the clerk called into the back office. "Grab the desk until Tish gets back!"
"Ashleigh?" Miroku asked innocently.
"This way, sir," the boy said. He left the counter and, taking suitcases, head towards the elevator.
"He said this way, Miroku, not towards the new desk-lady," Inu-Yasha growled, grabbing Miroku by the ear and following the teenager into the elevator.
"Owowow!" Miroku hissed feebly.
The elevator took them up three floors. The boy led them past a gameroom and a bar and down another hall before he reached three-twenty-seven and three-twenty-eight. "Here are your rooms, sirs, thank you for choosing Holiday Inn." He set their bags down beside the door. After Inu-Yasha had given him a couple dollars, he left them their keys and went back the way he had come.
The rooms were mirror images of each other. They were large with a full-sized bed each and not much else. Inu-Yasha threw his suitcase down beside the bed and turned to meet a mirror.
For a spilt second, he could have sworn he'd see something other than his reflection. Or a reflection his own, but warped. His long, dark hair was for a split second, silver and it seemed insane, but had those been dog ears on his head?
His shook his head vigorously and straightened his tie. He opened the door to find no less than Miroku flirting with one of the maids, who was giggling and playing with the small ponytail at the nape of his neck.
"Oi! Miroku! Your wife's on the phone!" he called over to them, holding a dead cell phone in his partner's general direction.
Inu-Yasha grinned devilishly when the maid's expression turned sour and she smacked him, grabbed her mop and stalked off. Miroku slumped over and scowled when Inu-Yasha approached him. "Damnit, Miroku, do I need to get you spayed?! Let's go."
::Author's Notes::
Well, well, well . . . this will probably get slightly supernatural . . . hence the name "Fate's Ways" . . . cackles . . . R+R is greatly appreciated.