We figured that we're such nice people, we'd post the first chapter as well as the prologue.  We request that you still feel compelled to review this when you're done.  A note about the names…since names in Star Trek are westernized, we decided to westernize Kagome and Yasha as well.  As such, Kagome Higurashi might not sound that odd to you, but Yasha's name is sure to be weird.  We had to decide what would be his surname and what would be his given name. 
Though either would probably work, we decided we liked the sound of Yasha better, and so he becomes Yasha Inu, westernized, though he'd still be Inu Yasha were we in Japan.  Don't let it throw you off.  ~_^

Disclaimer:        We still don't own Fluffy or Inuyasha  . . . or any of their friends.  The world just isn't fair.

Rating:              Still R, for later chapters and Yasha's creative language preferences.

Star Crossed Youkai

By Lady Blackmour and EarthDragonette

Chapter 1

As she entered her quarters aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise during the early morning hours, calling for the lights to turn on and numbly tossing aside her handbag, Ensign Kagome Higurashi was forced to admit to herself the inevitable and horrible truth.

She was exhausted.

Three months into her apprenticeship under Dr. Beverly Crusher, Kagome had been functioning under twenty hour days and living off of hastily called for cups of ramen that the computer doled out between patients.  She knew that her vitamin C intake was reaching a dangerously low level and that her brain was simply not getting the required amount of sleep that it needed to handle her workload.  Still, despite her body's vague cries for a rest in the form of a headache that hadn't gone away for a month and a half, Kagome only worked harder under the pressure, taking as many shifts as Dr. Crusher would let her and grabbing quick naps whenever the ramen was too far away. 

Sighing in blessed relief as she sank into her couch, she caressed the cup of tea that the computer had provided, hugging it to her body and drinking in the amazing, fruity aroma.  Combined with the water garden next to the entrance to her livingroom and the cool, soothing hues of her walls, this was exactly what she needed before climbing into bed for a few hours before her next shift started.  Groaning to herself, she wondered how on earth she was going to make it through. 

Because you have to, her mind answered, using the snide voice that Kagome only heard when she was near her breaking point.  Because you nearly killed yourself to get to this position and you know you have to work just as hard to keep it.  Because out of the thousands of applicants from the Academy, Dr. Crusher chose YOU to fill the one spot they had on this ship for recent graduates from the medical school, and you would do anything to keep it. 

Oh, shut up, Kagome told the voice, sipping her tea with irritation.  I know what I did, and how hard I worked, and how much I sacrificed to come here.  I just want to know if I ever get a break . . . or at least five hours of sleep.

Groaning heavily and setting down her tea, she glanced at the clock on the wall, wincing at the late hour.  It was going to take all of her energy to make it through her shifts tomorrow.  But she knew . . . if she could just hold it together for a little while longer, she would reap the benefits of all her efforts.  If she could just hang in there for a few more days . . . everything would be secure and she could relax, knowing that she'd done well . . . . that . . . that . . . it was all worth it . . . She just knew . . . .

Those were her last thoughts before she slumped against the couch, fast asleep.

***

Lieutenant Junior Grade Yasha Inu patrolled the corridors of Deck 14, severely discontented with his assignment.  Glaring at the carpeted walkway, he was only comforted by the regular weight of the phaser in his hand, its presence serving as a reminder that despite the rather mundane task that he'd been assigned to, he was still in fact, a Starfleet security officer.

'This is so fucking asinine,' he thought to himself, glaring at a passing officer who was unfortunate enough to offer him a tentative smile, 'With all the other things I could be doing, I have to baby-sit Primary Care and domestic quarters.  This is not what I signed up for.'

Sighing heavily and raking his hand through as much of his long, black hair that he could considering it was tied back while he was on duty, he checked a nearby computer terminal and saw that he only had an hour to go, and then he would be free to rest for a few days before picking up his long shifts again.  He wasn't exhausted, per say, but he HAD been working an awful lot.  Deck 14 was only one of the six decks that Yasha was responsible for over the course of a day, and he was under orders to spend approximately two hours at each of them, watching for any kind of disturbance, be it an official or unofficial conflict.  Furthermore, as he was serving directly under Lieutenant  Worf, the Security Chief to the U.S.S. Enterprise, he was required to spend six hours a day with the Klingon, learning about the various weapons and defense systems of the ship as well as procedures and protocols for the diplomatic functions that security often attended.  Adding in the two hours that Yasha required of himself on a daily basis for personal weapons training, he had very little time alone for relaxation or rest.

It was a lot of work, although Yasha would be damned before he'd admit that to anybody.

Cracking his knuckles out of habit, he raised his head determinedly and continued his walk around the deck, keeping his dark, violet eyes alert and trained on each person that he encountered.  Even if this was a ridiculous assignment for somebody with his training and abilities, he wanted to make sure that it was done well and that nothing happened on his watch.  He was assigned to protect those on this ship, and that's what he would do.

Turning a corner, Yasha narrowed his eyes at the doors leading to Primary Care, the center of day and night-time activities for the children aboard the Enterprise.  Although Yasha had limited contact with the service, he thought the children aboard the ship were pretty cool.  They all had an open, awed hero-relationship with him, especially after he had demonstrated some oldstyle fighting methods to them when he had first been assigned to the ship.  In a day and age where most Earthlings relied entirely on technology for self defense, finding a student of the old Asian fighting styles was near to impossible.  Furthermore, given that most of the children on the ship weren't from Earth in the first place, Yasha was an intriguing, exciting specimen.

And he carried a phaser.  They all loved the phaser.

Chuckling softly to himself, he nodded at some of his fans through the window of the center, sparing a glare for one of the caretakers before moving on. 

'I can't stand those girls,' he thought, allowing himself a brief shudder at how persistant many of them were in their pursuit of the officers on the ship.  Usually older daughters or young, single women, those in charge of Primary Care were forever hassling the Lieutenants and Commanders, especially Yasha in particular, it seemed.  His famed fighting techniques and past military record (as well as his rather impressive good looks, he had to admit) made him an ideal catch to many on board, and he was forever discouraging those that he came across.  He knew, as well as he knew his own name, that women were just trouble and should be avoided at all costs.   

Although he was deep in thought, Yasha was no less alert to his surroundings; the sound by the lifts failed to catch him by surprise, and instead inspired him to pick up his pace towards the source while the echo searched his brain for identification:  a human grunt, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh.  A smile slowly spread over his face.  'A perfect way to end my shift,' he thought, tucking his phaser away so that he would be able to intervene physically if he found it necessary.

Rounding another bend, the lifts came into view, and along with them, two young gentleman ('Ensigns.  Feh,' thought Yasha) that were passionately trying to cause each other harm.  Sparing no time for inquiries, Yasha dove into the fray, shoving the two officers apart and holding them apart from each other, the muscles in his arms barely shaking with the effort. 

"Just what the hell's going on here?" he asked, glaring at each man, his eyes narrowed and his voice dripping with impatience.

The Ensign attached to Yasha's right hand glared at the other, which was rather a remarkable feat considering that both of his eyes had met with fists and showed signs of swelling up in the near future, "You tell that prick to stay away from me!  She's not his concern anymore!"

Yasha sighed internally, disappointed that this looked to be another violent love triangle, 'Why do *I* always end up with this shit?  Can't these hormonal ingrates do this on somebody else's deck during somebody else's shift?'  Rolling his eyes, he glanced to the officer on his left hand, who, despite his continued struggles, had yet to respond.  "Well, d'you have anything you want to add to this tea party?"

The officer momentarily ceased his efforts and looked at Yasha with a glazed, confused look in his eyes, 'Oh for fuck's sake.  A drunk, too.  This just gets better and better.'

"I . . . she . . . ," he stopped and turned his gaze to the sober officer, "You . . . stay away! . . . She's confused.  She'll come back.  I . . . she will."  Apparently satisfied with this response, he resumed his efforts to attach his hands to his enemy's throat.

Tiring of the situation, Yasha considered his options.  He needed to get these two to calm down so he could get their names and send in a report of the offense, and he needed to do so in a way that wouldn't upset the others on board the deck.  What made this even more difficult was that he wasn't sure he COULD get the drunk one to calm down, and the other didn't look as though he'd be thinking logically for some time yet, either.  Gathering his breath to yell over their shouts so he could get a moment's peace to call for another officer, he heard a wryly amused voice from behind him.

"Problem, gentlemen?"

Craning his neck around, Yasha was struck with equal parts awe, relief, and dread.  Behind him stood Commander William Riker, first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise - legend from Yasha's Academy days, a potential set of hands to assist with handling the two buffoons, and somebody that could make a negative report to Lieutenant Worf if Yasha didn't handle the next few moments very carefully. 

"Yes sir," Yasha said, indicating the two men with his head, "I caught them trying to tear each other apart.  They don't seem to want to play nice."  Yasha shook each of them for emphasis.

A glint of humor barely discernable in his eyes, Riker moved forward and took the sober man from Yasha's clutch, the security officer smoothly moving in to hold back the drunk one from making a dive towards his target, "Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure," said Riker, fixing each of the men with a glare, "So what seems to be the problem here?" 

"A love triangle, and alcohol," Yasha supplied, hard pressed to keep the disdain out of his voice.

The sober officer literally seethed at the description, his left eye having fully swollen shut over the past minute or so, "You don't know anything about it," he growled, "I was minding my own business!  Then Ensign Tucker felt the need to acquaint his fists with MY face.  He needs to mind his own fu-" he spared a glance at Riker, who arched his eyebrow delicately, "his own business."  Having found himself in the grips of the Captain's second in command, the officer had apparantly decided that prudence would be in his favor.  Ensign Tucker though, was beyond such thought as a horrified Yasha watched in utter disbelief as the officer ceased his struggles and began to cry, turning around to grip the Lieutenant in a hug.

Coughing to cover up his amusement, and then remembering his own captive, Riker fixed a stern glare on the other officer, "And you are?"

The officer stood up straighter, trying his best to look like a representative of Starfleet "Ensign Stewert, sir." 

"Ensign Stewert, are you aware of how badly you have disgraced your rank and your ship?  Fighting amongst officers is absolutely intolerable, especially to the point where two fellow officers are required to stop the incident.  A report will be filed on this, and an investigation made into what happened.  You are dismissed for now.  Return to your quarters until called for."

Opening his mouth to protest, Ensign Stewert thought better of it and sighed, nodding his head in assent.  Turning towards one of the lifts, he couldn't help but pin a glare on the other man, who was still sobbing loudly into Yasha's shoulder despite the Lieutenant's best attempts to get away while still holding him back from the other officer.

After Ensign Stewert departed, Riker allowed his amusement to make itself more known and fixed Yasha with a small grin, "You are Lieutenant Junior Grade Yasha Inu, correct?  You are assigned under Lieutenant Worf."

Surprised that the Commander knew him, Yasha could barely bite out a reply, "Yes, sir."

Riker nodded and offered, "I know of your father.  He is a remarkable Captain, and an amazing strategist.  You must be very honored to be following in his name." 

Not surprised that Commander Riker would know of Captain Inu of the Canine's Delight, Yasha only nodded, "I am, sir."  Glancing down at Ensign Tucker, he sighed and finally managed to turn the man around, instructing him in passing, "Here, hold up the wall for a minute."  Happy to have something to do in his misery, the Ensign gladly accepted the order, bracing his weight against the corridor for all he was worth.  Yasha turned to a nearby computer and quickly entered in the incident and the appropriate codes while Riker kept an eye on Tucker.  Just as he was finishing up, Yasha heard a disheartening thud, and turning around, found that the alcohol in Ensign Tucker's system had completely claimed him, and that the man was out cold.  It was also at this moment that Yasha noticed, with a mild curse, that the man was injured, and that there was a long, ugly gash down his leg, 'I guess Stewert gave as good as he got before I arrived.'  Sighing again, Yasha picked up Ensign Tucker, muttering to himself, "Stupid fool."

Leaning on the wall by the lifts, waiting for one to arrive, Riker arched an eyebrow, "Why do you say that, Lieutenant?"

Giving the Commander an astounded look, Yasha could only reply, "All of this, sir.  Over a finicky woman who can't make up her mind.  It's ridiculous," Yasha couldn't help but sniff disdainfully at the officer draped over his shoulder, "And drinking in the middle of the day, too.  It's no way for a Starfleet officer to handle himself." 

Chuckling as the doors opened and he entered the lift, Riker could only reply "You have yet to experience the full power of a woman then, Lieutenant Inu."

Sputtering with shock, Yasha barely squeezed between the doors before they closed once again, calling out the deck to Sick Bay in the process, "I don't know what you're talking about.  Sure they're around, and they smell kind of nice and sometimes look kind of nice, but no woman's worth all of this fuss.  Now both of these guys are gonna have to sit for an investigation, and get put on probation, and have to make up a lot of time without pay," shaking his head firmly he stated, "It's just not worth it."

More amused than before, Riker could only nod sagely at the young man, admiring how determined he was in defending his opinion, 'He would make a good commanding officer, when he gets a little older,' Riker thought to himself, impressed with how well Yasha had handled the conflict and with how he automatically assumed responsibility for the fallen Ensign.  He would have to mention the Lieutenant's work to Worf when he next saw him.  "Maybe," Riker suggested, getting off the lift at his stop, "And then again, Lieutenant Inu . . . maybe not."  Startled, Yasha could only stare at the doors as the lift moved again, this time towards his intended deck.   

***

Kagome furrowed her brow as she examined the tricorder's readings, dragging the sensor up and down the cadet's arm, and doing her best to make absolutely certain that the healing had been successful and that the arm showed no signs of the shattered ulna.  It had been a rather routine case from the beginning though, and truth to tell she wasn't really worried that her treatment would run into problems at this stage.  Still, it never hurt to be absolutely certain.

After a moment, Kagome set the tricorder down and beamed at her patient, "I'm happy to report that you'll be fine.  It was a good, clean heal and I don't see any signs of loose bits of bone or any left over brusing of the muscles.  Let me just go over some exercises you'll want to try and we'll get you out of here."

After about another half hour of going over exercises and symptoms to watch out for, as well as entering in the last of the procedure information into the computer, Kagome finally had a moment to settle into her office that branched off of the main Sickbay area.  Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her temples with her fingers, massaging the tenderness and allowing herself a brief moment to indulge in the elation that had been simmering under the surface of her consciousness since that morning; at the end of this shift, she would be free to go for a week. 

Dr. Crusher had called to Kagome right after she had arrived for her morning shift.  Taking a moment to drop her bag off in her office and to grab a quick cup of tea, Kagome found the Doctor in one of the supply rooms, discussing the arrival of a new shipment of medicine with one of the technicians.  Holding up a finger to show that she would be with Kagome in a moment, the Doctor began to finish up the conversation, gesturing to a nearby computer terminal as she spoke.  Taking a sip of her tea, Kagome leaned against a counter to wait and basked in the peace of the morning, relieved that despite her forgetfulness the night before, the computer had remained programed to wake her up in time for her first shift; it wouldn't have done at all to have been late after her past, flawless work. 

Seeing that Dr. Crusher had finished with the technician, Kagome pushed herself away from the counter and fell into step beside her, smiling a greeting as they walked.  Nodding to some of the interns as they arrived, the Doctor indicated that Kagome should follow her into her office.  Settling herself in the chair opposite the desk, Kagome took another sip of her tea, curious as to why she was being called in and trying to remember if perhaps her work hadn't been flawless as of late.  Seeing the confusion in Kagome's eyes, Dr. Crusher chuckled.

"Kagome, please, don't worry.  I haven't called you in to criticize you or take you to task about something.  On the contrary, your work has been exemplary; I couldn't have made a better choice than you as my new apprentice."

Feeling her stress and worry drain away, Kagome's face lit into a smile, a blush spreading over her cheeks with the praise, "Thank you, Dr. Crusher.  I've really tried to fulfill your expectations of me."

At this the Doctor leaned back in her chair, fixing Kagome with a steady gaze, "Well I can't deny that you've done that, and more.  I've never had an apprentice who's worked half as hard as you do, nor half as well. The patients do nothing but rave about your composure and your compassion . . .   I feel that I must ask though, are you happy here?   Working under me?  Living aboard the Enterprise?"

Kagome started, spilling a bit of her tea in the process.  Taking a few moments to regain her composure as she blotched up the liquid from her uniform (thankful that the stain didn't show up against the dark blue), she finally found her voice and answered, "Of course Dr. Crusher.  I find the work to be stimulating and challenging, and I've learned so much from you about how to organize and run a medical team.  I'm so grateful that I have this assignment."

Dr. Crusher smiled at Kagome and gently prodded, "Yes, of course Kagome.  But what I mean is, are you enjoying yourself?  Do you find yourself satisfied with the work?  Are you comfortable working for me?  Are you finding the Enterprise to be hospitable?"

Blinking in confusion, Kagome kept wiping at her uniform, using the regular motions to soothe her nerves.  'Why is she asking me this?'

"Well . . . uh," Kagome offered, her sleep deprived brain doing its best to get around these highly unexpected questions, "I haven't seen much of the ship as of yet, aside from Sickbay and my quarters.  There really hasn't been a lot of time-" Kagome's eyes widened in shock and her voice sped up as she tried to retrace her steps in the conversation, "That's not to say that I feel swamped or anything!  I mean, I really do LOVE the work here.  The patients are so wonderful and interesting, and I never dreamed I'd have such tools and equipment at my disposal.  And I really, really, REALLY enjoy working with you because like I said before, I've learned so much under you and everybody else on the medical team has been SO friendly and-"

"Kagome, Kagome, calm down . . " Dr. Crusher soothed, chuckling, "It's okay, I understand.  I just wanted to be sure that you felt comfortable on board with us - that you weren't thinking of transferring to another assignment.  Your three month probationary period is up, so after I send off this last progress report, you're mine for the next two years.  I wanted you to be certain of the position."

Kagome's eyes lit up, "Oh I am," she assured Dr. Crusher, clutching her hands together and leaning forward in excitement, "I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be right now."

The Doctor smiled in appreciation, "I'm so glad to hear that.  I despaired of having to lose you to another ship.  I don't know what I'd do without your help, especially with all the viruses that seem to be going around these days," Kagome smiled at this and the Doctor continued, "But there is one thing that I've been concerned about."  Leaning forward, Dr. Crusher looked Kagome in the eyes and asked firmly, "Kagome, how much sleep are you getting?"

Kagome meekly looked at her hands, her cheeks flushing in embarassment, "Not that much, Dr. Crusher." 

Dr. Crusher leaned back, nodding to herself, "I thought so.  You know you can't go on like this much longer.  I've been noticing that you're starting to suffer from the effects, and I don't want to lose my best apprentice because of something that can be so easily fixed."  Standing, the Doctor walked over to the computer terminal, ordering and retrieving a cup of coffee as she spoke, "I want you to take a break." Holding her hand up at Kagome's protests she repeated, "I want you to take a break.  For a week.  You're exhausted, Ensign Higurashi, and you're no good to me in your present state." 

Returning to her seat, Dr. Crusher took a sip of her beverage, never taking her eyes from Kagome's, "Furthermore, when you return, I want you to cut your hours back a little.  There's no need for you to work two sets of eight hour shifts a day.  I've let you get the need to do so out of your system, and now you can settle back and let the rest of the medical team pull their weight." Giving Kagome a grin, she added, "Or else I'm going to have to start paying you more, and Starfleet doesn't like to give raises."

Her blush brightening, all Kagome could do was nod to the Doctor and promise, "I'll do that, Dr. Crusher.  I'm sorry to have run myself down like this, I know I'm not going to be of any help while I'm gone, but if there's anything I can do -"

"Ensign Higurashi, you are under strict orders to rest and relax for the next seven days.  If I catch you anywhere near Sickbay," she paused for a moment in thought, "OR making any housecalls, I will seriously consider having your probation extended.  You'll never get off this ship, I'll see to that."  The twinkle in her eye returning, she continued, "Take a break.  We'll be fine.  You don't always need to work, you know.  Spend a day in bed, try out the Holodeck.  Meet a handsome Lieutenant.  Then come back to me next week and we'll do this again . . . . at a slightly less frantic pace."

Kagome could barely believe all of the free time that stretched out ahead of her, and as much as she hated to admit it, waves of relief and pleasure were rushing through her body at the thought of having time to herself and not having to work.  However, she couldn't help but protest, "But I can finish up my shift today, right?  Just this one, not the second?  Please?  I just couldn't bear to leave now."

Seeing the desperate look in Kagome's eyes, Dr. Crusher felt herself relenting against her better judgement, "Okay.  One more shift.  But not two.  I expect you out of here by twelve-hundred, no excuses.  If you're in the middle of a patient, give him to somebody else."

Nodding, Kagome stood, feeling awkward.  Turning to go, she glanced back at the Doctor and offered a smile.

 "Thank-you."

Yawning and stretching her legs, Kagome glanced at her computer and found that her shift was almost up.  Just another half hour and she'd be able to leave . . . and relax. 

What a novel idea.

Sitting up and entering her access codes into the computer at her desk, Kagome went through her files and checked to make certain that she had no leftover paperwork to do.  Browsing through her cases, she fully realized just how many people she had worked on and with during the past three months, and was ridiculously pleased with how much she had helped others.  'I'd never want to do anything besides this,' she thought, savouring the sensation of accomplishment and satisfaction with her work.

Just as she was closing up the last of her files, she heard the doors to Sickbay open and a loud, impatient voice call out, "Hey!  Is anybody actually working in here today?"

Grumbling about unnecessary rudeness, Kagome stood, wincing as her headache responded to the sudden movement and flowed to take over the entire top half of her head, her temples now pounding with every beat of her heart.  Gritting her teeth as she walked out of her office she grabbed her tricorder from off of her desk and stepped out into the main Sickbay room, a retort already formed in her throat - a retort that quickly died as she looked up into the face belonging to the voice.

Kagome wasn't exactly sure what happened first, whether or not it was the meeting of his dark, intense violet eyes and her own sparkling, brown ones or if it was the establishment of  . . . a connection, a something.  Whichever one was first, within the first moment that she left her office, she felt things that she'd never felt before.  The colors and shapes of the room at once became sharper and then dimmed.  Her heart picked up its pace, fluttering from excitement and a sense of accomplishment.  She had the distinct sensation of just having received her medical degree, saved a life, delivered a baby, and climbed a mountain all while being drenched in a rain shower on the hottest day she could imagine. 

And the eyes, the fullest eyes she'd ever seen, bearing down on her, telling her volumes of history and lore, explaining to her everything she'd ever wanted to know about the universe, and promising her every dream she'd ever desired.  Catching herself, she stood back a little to get a proper look at the owner of such eyes, feeling oxygen effectively leave her personal space as she nearly gasped for breath, feeling the blood rising to her face.

She knew this person.

Kagome didn't know how, or why, or when, but she could've sworn that she'd seen that face before.  She'd traced her hands along the hard planes of his face, caressed the ears (ears?) and run her fingers through the hair.  His lips, they had smiled at her and given her the delicious, precious gift of laughter.  She'd worshipped the muscular limbs and proud chest, found secret places and maybe even revealed some of her own.  She'd been protected, she . . . she'd been loved, loved more than anything, and somehow, it was from this body.  Looking back up to the face, eager to see if he had the same recognition, if he knew, just as she did, that they had known each other before, she was stricken by his expression.

"Who the hell are YOU??" he sneered.