A/N: Ok, here is the next chapter, weeeeeee. This story is so fun to write! Thanks to those who have reviewed and for those of you who have not (coughVONNAcough) please do so! Reviewing gives me motivation to work faster. There are only a few chapters to this story (maybe 5) so I have to hurry up and get it done by Christmas! Yell at me readers! Guilt is my best motivation!

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any other character. I do, however, own a Def Leppard CD which is helping me out tonight!

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Take 3

He lay on his side, staring at the digital clock next to the bed. 7:58.

He'd been awake since 4 AM. There was a point when he had gotten up to raid the near-empty fridge and then burrowed under his blankets again. The heat was off in the building for the second time that week. He had considered pulling out an old book, the one that was propping up the crooked-legged chair in the kitchen, just for something to do, but then he decided against it. Instead, he just lay and thought.

Here, mostly buried beneath a mound of blankets, staring at a very cheap clock that now read 7:59, and waiting for the day to start so that he could draw himself up and begin anew, Miroku pondered existence yet again. Try as he might, he couldn't think that optimistically today. Tonight, arriving on the red-eye at 9 PM, both of his parents would appear for a "surprise" visit.

Thankfully, he had been warned by Mushin, a sort of surrogate uncle that Miroku had known his entire life. The reindeer-poser didn't want to think about what it would have done to him had his parents actually showed up without any notice. It was probable he'd have a heart attack. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would die from it and be spared a weekend alone with them.

But alas, no.

If there was one thing Miroku was, though, it was a survivor. He would endure, he always did, and he would be the better for it. And if he was lucky, which he was sometimes, his parents would forget to visit him for another two years.

Miroku was a man of many thoughts, and several actions, and few repercussions due to his abundant cleverness. He was a man blessed with good looks and a quick wit, if not the greatest amount of common sense. For all the blessings given to him, and even all the faults as well, he couldn't blame, or credit, a single thing about himself to his parents.

They had never been around when he was growing up, due to some charity event or some new hospital wing opening or something else they had to do that was more important than their only child. Miroku, for all his childish resentment, didn't really blame them for it. They were aristocrats, blue-bloods, born to money most people would only dream of. It wasn't their fault that they were raised to be neglectful and snobbish, that was just their way.

There had been a time when Miroku was that way too.

But a glimpse at the real world, having a taste of what most people dealt with, sobered him of that drunkenness caused by privilege. He was no longer that fifteen-year-old in a boarding school uniform, riding show horses and getting straight A's in the hopes of approval. He was, in most ways at least, a man, who had broken away from his family name and their money, to live on his own.

Maybe living in a one-bedroom apartment that never had heat, with an always empty pantry, and a nearly empty wallet wasn't exactly what he had imagined his life would be, but there was time. It wasn't like he was starving, and Kagome always offered to let him room with her if he needed a place. Maybe Miroku's life wasn't the way it was supposed to be, but most people's lives weren't.

If only his parents could understand that although he wasn't wild with joy over his lot in life, he wasn't miserable. Far from it in fact. He And that was enough for Miroku.

But it would never be enough for them, and they were coming to remind him.

There comes a time in a man's life when he sincerely wishes that he never had parents. Sadly, Miroku was as all men are, utterly bound to the physical realities that the human race provides.

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One week.

Seven days.

168 hours.

The deadline of Christmas was fastly approaching and Kagome was no where near close to cracking into Inuyasha's personal melodrama against the holiday. If anything, he seemed to be hating more by the minute due to her persistence.

She had bugged him on every break, proceeded to follow him around after the end of their shifts, and made every attempt humanly possible to get him to talk to her for more than a brief thirty second brush-off. So far, there had been no luck. He avoided her, or he just ignored her as best he could before blowing up in her face.

It didn't discourage her, but she was getting a little worried now that time was running out.

Here it was, bright and early, exactly seven days until Christmas, and Inuyasha practically sprinted from the sight of her to the locker room when she spotted him. Instead of giving chase, as she knew she should have, Kagome simply sighed and walked over to the set. She just wasn't feeling up to following today.

"I've dug my own grave," she sighed, running the brim of her elf-hat over her fingers. If she couldn't whittle down Inuyasha in seven days, she had no doubt that Sango would think up something even more heinous for her to do, and that was not something the young elf-girl was looking forward to.

She thought it would be simple. Most guys were simple, to her opinion. Kagome had been a master manipulator for most of her life. Flash a pretty smile, a batting of her lashes, a throaty whisper and she could get anything she wanted. Granted, she was a better person than to stoop to using that, but she had on occasion been known to rely on her most basic of assets--her beauty.

Most guys would do what she wanted for an empty promise, just because she would give them the time of day. There were some exceptions to that rule, of course. It was just rare to meet one of those. And it bothered her that the object of this carefully crafted plan was one of those exceptions.

When she got to the set, Kagome was happy to find Miroku already there. Her smile faded, however, when she noticed how tired he looked.

"Miroku, you sleep on a bed of nails?" she baited, tugging on his antlers affectionately.

"You could say that," he commented, not rising to her jest. It was unlike him. Miroku was a keen debater.

"Uh-oh," Kagome frowned. "This means only one of two things. Either you got turned down by a girl--"

"Don't Kagome," he warned.

"Or," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted, "your parents are coming to town." He winced and she knew she hit the nail on the head. "Ouch."

"Yeah," he commented with a defeated sigh. "They're getting in tonight."

"How long are they staying?"

"Only the weekend," he said with a relieved sigh. "They have their own plans for Christmas. They leave Tuesday morning."

"Still, three days?" Kagome let out a low whistle. "You'll want to hang yourself by tomorrow night."

"I doubt it'll take that long."

She smiled encouragingly at him. "I'm here if you need me," she offered.

He smiled wanly back. "Thanks Kagome, but they'll be bothering me about why I don't have a steady girlfriend, why I'm not settling down and giving them grandchildren yet. They already no you, so I'm pretty much going to be hung out to dry."

That's when Kagome's head jumped into motion again, and a wicked smile spread across her face. As always, her deviousness was rearing it's head, but in rare form. This was actually a plan that would work well in both favors, instead of just her own amusement.

"Well, you could always get someone to pretend to be your girlfriend, just until your parents are gone."

Miroku snorted. "I'm not hiring a hooker."

Kagome laughed. "I don't mean that! I just mean...a personal favor. Get a single girl to go out with you, once or twice, with your parents watching, and then when they leave they'll be none the wiser. They'll think you have a girlfriend and you know you don't. It's a win-win."

"And who will I get to do that?" he asked skeptically.

Kagome opened her mouth to answer, when she was cut off. "Good morning!" Sango called from the camera. She dumped her bag and arched her back. "Ready to start?"

Kagome let her smile answer for her.

Miroku raised one eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two females, then smiled much the same as Kagome. "I love the way your mind works," he said with a laugh.

"Why do you think we get along so well?" she countered.

"I don't question gifts from God," he said, laying on the charm. Kagome giggled even as she blushed, pushing him affectionately on the shoulder before heading off to start her daily activities.

"Go ahead and shmooze Romeo," she waved.

Miroku adjusted his antlers and decided to do just that. He was startled to discover that his heart was beating a little over time as he came upon Sango. It was a little odd, but that only made it more fun in the long run. "Good morning Sango," he greeted with a disarming smile.

"Good morning Miroku," she said with an answering grin.

She turned and went back to her work. Miroku cleared his throat once, sent up a silent prayer, and took the plunge of faith needed whenever doing one of Kagome's schemes. But hey, it was all in the name of pacifying his unrelenting parents. "Sango, could I ask a favor of you?"

She turned and looked at him warily, her pretty eyes skeptical even as she swept a lock of hair from them. She looked a little disheveled this morning, as if she had been in a rush. Miroku couldn't say that he minded. Sango was the kind of woman that looked good in any situation, in any lighting, at any time.

"It depends what you need," she responded. "I'm not committing until I know terms."

That made him smile. She sounded almost like Kagome. "Well, let me put it to you frankly?" Sango nodded her consent. "My parents are coming to visit me tonight. They're staying for three days. In such time I might be tempted, on more than one occasion, to harm myself. Mostly due to their constant campaign to find me a wife. Basically, I will do anything you want if you could pretend to be my girlfriend for the next three days."

His explanation was expelled in the space of one breath so it took her a second to sort out all he had said, then her eyes widened. "No!" she said, voice an octave too high. "There is no way in Hell I'd do something like that!"

She pushed him aside, stomping across the set to arrange the chair in her camera angle. He followed. "I'll buy all your film for the rest of the season!"

"No."

"Next year too!"

"No." She was starting to weaken.

"I'll buy all your film for this year, next year, and I'll stop groping you at work!"

For a few moments, Sango lingered on the edge of doubt. She wanted to hold firm on her morals, to shout in his face, but with him paying for the film it would mean more money for her...and more money would look good to social services. Oh God, she was so close to saying no, but part of her lingered in consent. In the long run, morals came up short in the face of money she so desperately needed. But, just for kicks, she added an extra condition.

"Stop groping the mothers too and we've got a deal," she stated.

Miroku looked taken aback for all of a second before sticking his hoof out. Sango grasped and shook. They had a biding agreement. For the next three days, Sango was Miroku's "girlfriend". She would live to regret it, of that she was sure, but it was saving her money if not sanity.

Kagome smiled to herself from across the set and sighed contentedly. It was the number one rule of being a good manipulator--always make the manipulated parties think it was their idea. Her concentration was shattered however. Children were arriving and work needed to be done. But that was just a day in the life of a Head elf.

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By the end of the day, Miroku was thoroughly stressed out.

It can be said that the anticipation of pain is far worse than pain itself. That's what he felt like. Expecting his parents to arrive was in fact far worse than them simply arriving. The first hour would be alright. They'd just be so happy to see him still alive and sober that they'd forget to torment him...for a while anyway.

"Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away," Kagome sang as she entered the locker room, hat in one hand. "This year to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."

Somehow, it was just hard to be sullen when that was filling your head. Kagome was annoying, persistent, and very perplexing, but she had one hell of a voice and she knew just how to use it. She always knew how to cheer him up, and when to do it. Maybe it was just one of those innate best friend things.

"You know, you should have your own Christmas album," he commented to her as she sauntered around.

"I've thought about it," she commented between verses.

As she continued singing, Miroku stepped in, taking her hand and twirling her once before pulling her into a box step with him. "Last Christmas I gave you my heart but the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."

It was just one of those things that they could do, and did. Like playing tag in the mall despite the fact that they were both twenty-something. Like the fact that they'd drag each other to low-class horror movies or awkward parties or some other social anxiety that you could only face with a good friend beside you. Like name-calling and idle threats. Like dancing in a locker room, while still in costume. That was Kagome and Miroku, like brother and sister.

That was the first thing that Sango noticed about them when Kagome introduced her to Miroku. She knew about Kagome's strained relationship with her family, but she also knew about the strong ties she had with Shippou and his foster grandmother, and with the handsome man she called her best friend. Kagome and Miroku's relationship was complex, she wasn't quite sure in the beginning if they really were just friends. But then, after a short time around them, she saw that really did have a sibling's love for one another.

Sango stood in the doorway of the locker room, leaning against the frame and watched them. It was a refreshing thing, to see two people actually enjoying their Christmas season. For a moment, she caught herself wishing she could join them, but then realized that to be folly and strode into the room.

Dreams were childish in the face of reality.

Her reality was hard enough without the pain of longing adding to it.

"Well, you two seem to be enjoying yourselves."

Kagome looked up from mid-dip and grinned. "Just working on some moves," she laughed. "You should let Miroku dance with you. He's wonderful on his feet."

"I'm better off my feet," he said with a suggestive waggling of eyebrows.

Sango rolled her eyes. "There will be none of that during our little facade," she declared. "I will only be pretending to be your girlfriend, not actually fulfilling any of those requirements."

"Damn," Miroku said with a snap of his fingers. "Should have had that in writing."

"Either way," Sango said, pressing on despite the heat rushing to her face. "I have to get home. When do you need me to...make my appearance?"

"I'll let you two lovebirds talk," Kagome grinned, sneaking off toward the other side of the room to change in peace.

"Um, tonight would actually have been preferable," he commented lightly. "The 'rents are coming tonight at 9. It would be good if you could meet them at the airport with me."

"Tonight?" she said, frowning slightly. "I don't know if I can."

"Free film," he reminded tantalizingly.

Sango sighed. "Fine."

"Good," he grinned. "If we leave now, we can take our time and I can fill you in on the particulars."

"We have to stop off at my apartment first," she said with a harried expression. "I have to drop off my stuff."

"Fine, I'll give you a lift and we can talk on the way."

"Let's go."

Kagome watched them leave, Sango purposely putting herself two feet away from Miroku, even though he made no move to touch her, nor would he. He promised, and Miroku never broke his word, no matter how much he wanted to. If there was one thing to be said about Miroku, it was that he was an honest fool.

She smiled a little to herself. It was a win-win situation here. Miroku would get his parents off his back and Sango would save some money in the long run, money she truly did need. And maybe there would be a few reindeer games in between.

Kagome sighed wistfully. She really was a romantic at heart.

The locker room door slamming made her jump out of her fanciful thoughts. She turned to look up, seeing Inuyasha stomp into the room and to his locker. He didn't seem to notice she was there, which was alright with her. She had little wish to approach him at the moment. He looked ready to bite off anyone's head.

She attempted to sneak out of the room unseen, but he must have seen her in the corner of his eye because he swung around and fixed her with a warning glance.

"Don't worry," she said while holding up both hands. "I'm just on my way out." Coat and hat in hand, she fled the locker room for the thinning mall population.

Shippou had left a few hours earlier to finish shopping and help out Kaede, meaning Kagome would be walking home along tonight. She didn't have a car, nor had she ever owned one. That had been an expense she had just never had the luxury of after she moved away from home. She began to regret that fact as she looked outside to find it sleeting.

Kagome pulled the collar of her coat up to protect her neck, and pulled her hat down to cover her ears before opening the door and bracing herself. Then she took that running leap, half sliding in a very ungraceful manner, out into the elements. Her apartment was several blocks away. She'd be wet through, and likely to catch cold if she didn't hurry.

And me without my umbrella, she thought dismally.

She was halfway down the street away from the mall, waiting for a light to turn green so she could cross, when a car pulled up at the curb beside her. A window rolled down and Kagome was very surprised to see Inuyasha in the driver's seat. She had to make a mental note: he was a jerk, but not without some semblance of a heart. Perhaps she could exploit that for later use.

"Don't you have a car?" he called over to her over the pounding of sleet and the honking of cars.

"No," she called back.

"You live nearby?"

"About six streets down," she called back, barely hearing herself.

"Get in."

"What?"

"Get in!"

And she did, sliding wetly and gratefully into the passenger seat. "Thanks," she said shyly, shutting the door and placing her bare hands against the heat vent. Her gloves were in her locker at work, forgotten in haste.

"Don't thank me," he said evenly. "It's not out of the goodness of my heart. This is to keep me from extra work if you call out sick tomorrow."

"With a week until Christmas?" she asked skeptically. "Never."

Inuyasha snorted. "Figures."

That annoyed her. "Don't thin you know all there is to know about me," she snapped.

"Not a nice feeling, is it?" he countered.

"I never said I knew you," she retorted proudly. "I wanted to know you. There's a big difference."

"Huge." Sarcasm was plain.

"If you dislike my company so much, why didn't you just leave me on the curb?" she pressed.

"I told you already."

"I don't buy it," she said with a smile aimed at him. "You know enough about me to know that I wouldn't call out. I love the job too much."

"Something I'll never understand," he muttered.

"My street is the next left," she commented, then got back to topic. "You'd understand, if you made an effort and got to know me."

"Which building?" he asked with a disinterested tone.

"The last one on the right."

"Kinda rundown."

"It's better inside then out," she commented, feeling defensive. "But I'm sure you're used to better."

"What makes you say that?" Inuyasha baited, pulling up in front of the building.

"You have that attitude, like everything you do now is beneath you." She shrugged one shoulder. "Like all of us are beneath you."

"I never said--"

"You don't have to, you just have to think it and it's all over your face." Kagome smiled over at him, a look of tiredness in her eyes that he'd never seen before. Or maybe, a little voice in his head nagged him, he never took the time to see. Still, she smiled, and leaned across the seat to kiss him. It wasn't a date kiss, just the merest brush of her lips over his, a whisper of a kiss. But it was enough to knock him off guard. Though she followed him around easy enough, he never got the feeling that she enjoyed it, or him for that matter.

"Thank you for driving me home," she said when she leaned back and opened the door. Then she was gone into the rain, with nothing but a wet imprint in the seat beside him to suggest she was ever there.

He shook his head and put his car into gear, pulling away with confusion drifting over him. "Damn that girl is weird." But she had accomplished her mission. She was getting under his skin.

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"Right here," Sango pointed. Her apartment was on the third floor, a nice roomy place she afforded only by using every one of her dollars correctly. She was proud of the place. It wasn't what she had had in the beginning, but it was a good neighborhood and it was rent controlled.

Miroku pulled his car up beside the curb and parked. "You want me to come up with you?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Suit yourself. I just have to run inside." Then she pushed open the door and headed inside.

There was no elevator, but she never expected one. She took the stairs two at a time instead, rummaging in her pockets until she found her keys and made it to the third floor. Second door on the left. Sango unlocked the white door and walked inside.

"Sango?" a voice called from the living room.

"It's just me, Kohaku," she called back, dropping her bag on to the floor and heading into the room. Kohaku, her fifteen-year-old, was sprawled across the couch, remote in hand, flipping through the channels. Sango stooped over him long enough to ruffle his messy black hair and plant a kiss on the top of his head. "How was practice?" she asked, already moving into the kitchen.

"Fine," he answered, turning off the television and following after her. "We have a game in the morning. I don't suppose you'd come?"

"Sorry," she said, turning to look at him from the open freezer. "I have to work tomorrow. I'll come to the next one, I promise."

"That's what you said last time," he said quietly. Kohaku had, the winter before, joined a youth league hockey team. He was very talented at it, and Sango was thrilled that he had finally found something that he was good at and enjoyed to do.

"I'm sorry Kohaku, but someone needs to support us," she reminded. It wasn't a harsh answer, just one that was tired and unfair to both of them.

"Am I interrupting?" Both turned to see Miroku standing in the kitchen doorway, looking sheepish. "Your door was open, and you said I could come up. It's sleeting cats and dogs, and I think we should get going."

Kohaku turned to Sango, then back to the guy standing in his kitchen. "Who's this?"

"Kohaku, this is Miroku. I work with him. Miroku, this is Kohaku." Then she turned to her co-worker and nodded. "I'll be down in a minute."

He shrugged, looking once more at the teenager who was suddenly glaring at him. "Sure...I'll wait downstairs." Then he was gone and Kohaku rounded on Sango.

"You're going on a date?!"

"It's not a date," Sango said evenly, removing a microwave dinner from a box and sticking it into the microwave. "I guess this will have to do for dinner."

"Don't change the subject!" the teen demanded.

Sango sighed. "I'm just doing him a favor. I'll be home as soon as I can, don't wait up." Then she made to leave.

"Sango," he sighed.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a comforting gesture. "Next game, I swear." His hand covered her own for a second.

"Sure."

Then he pulled her hand away and went to his room. Sango heard the clicking of the door as if it were a slam, in her face no less. It was true that she sucked being a mother. She had no practice with children...let alone raising a teenager by herself. But Kohaku was her brother. Her only family. And she'd die before anyone took him away.

She locked the door on her way out, pocketing the keys again and meeting Miroku on the ground floor, as promised. They had made it to the car, and nearly toward the highway before speaking.

"Who was the kid?"

"My brother," she said idly.

"You live with your parents?" he asked, not understanding why a teenager would be living with a fresh-out-of-college photographer.

"My mother died eight years ago," she commented, as if it meant nothing. As if it happened to someone else. "Dad last Spring."

"I'm sorry," he offered, knowing that condolences meant little.

"Thanks," she said with a tired smile. She'd been through this before. Awkward silence, unsure of words. Men often ran from an orphan caring for a teenaged brother.

"It must be hard," he thought out loud. "Taking care of him."

"It's a challenge," she responded. "But he's all I have. I'd do anything to keep him."

He noticed the edge in her voice, but instead of shying away, he picked at it. "Did someone try to take him away?"

"After Dad died, social services put him in a foster home," Sango admitted. "I didn't have a steady job. I was living in a rat hole apartment. I fought to get him back, but under the guidelines that I have steady work, a better place, and that I'm able to support him." She paused and smiled a little more satisfied. "I got him back in June. If I can make it until then, they'll drop our case and Kohaku can stay with me until he turns eighteen."

Miroku looked over at her with a new level of respect. Sango was the kind of person who would go to any lengths to achieve her goals, something for admirable and engaging. There was more to the pretty photographer than meets the eye, and he had every intention of finding out what was entailed.

After his parents arrived, of course.

Which they did, promptly at 9, with all the pomp and circumstance they always arrived with. His mother threw her arms around him in a fit of dramatics, crying about how her little boy was bigger than she'd seen him last (and so much more handsome). And his father patted him on the back, saying he was finally growing into himself and becoming a man.

Only then did they notice Sango, and they rounded on her like a dog in the scent of a hunt.

Miroku rescued her from answers by introducing her as his girlfriend, and begging them to tell him all about their latest charity benefit and donations. They were only more than happy to spout details as Miroku loaded their luggage in his car and smiled over at Sango, who was caught up in a tidal wave of longing for her own parents and confusion at the actions of these parents to their son. Still, she managed to smile back at that son. She got the feeling they'd be doing that a lot over the next three days, and she also had the feeling that she wouldn't mind too much.

He couldn't grope her, as per their contract. And as long as he kept his hands to himself, Miroku was a really good guy.

Sango was in trouble.

A/N: Next chapter will hopefully get out on Friday and the final installment on Christmas day. Review please!