Disclaimer: As usual, see Chapter one
A/N: Well, I started writing this chapter a few weeks ago, and as I wrote, it started to grow. Soon I found my usual average of around 3000 words had in fact reached over 7000. Because I wasn't too happy with the second half and because I wanted to save something to post next week—due to exams coming up soon—the big chapter 8 has now been divided into two: this chapter, and then the next one. And for all those who've been waiting for Sango and Miroku's big meeting, here it is. But please be critical and tell me what you think, because for some reason I don't really know about this part and whether it really works for the characters. * sigh * oh well, I hope you enjoy it!
Another giant thanks goes out to my wonderful reviewers drake220, Silver Magiccraft, Lunar Kitty, Tsuki Karusu, chinita, hAdOwCat, Jadegoddess, Inuyasha Loves Kagome 4391, Lunatic Pandora1, Flamingtoad, sashlea, Pan-Chan42, Fuzzy Lil Bella Chan, bluefuzzyelf, Kibethan, LSR-7, chibilee, LittleHobbit13, Crystal jade2, and NekoKaji n' Tanaka (I take it you liked the chapter ;)) !! Keep em coming and I'll make sure to give you chapters ^__^ Love you guys!
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Chapter 8: The Rewards of Patience~^~^~^~
"Take these towels to room twelve twenty-nine."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh, and Aki? Don't forget to replace the soaps as well."
The young woman with the dark hair nodded, balancing the pile of fluffy white towels on one arm as she hauled her cleaning cart into the room. She did her duty, and even wiped down the mirrors to add a little sparkle to the bathroom. There was nothing like doing the job well, even if it was only rather temporary.
Sango—or 'Aki' as she was currently going by—had managed to get onto the hotel's cleaning crew using her deft skills at manipulating computer data and a few fake ids. The true Aki Nanami was currently visiting a boyfriend in Nagasaki—despite the label of "sick" that appeared on the cleaning list. After having chatted online with two of her friends, Sango now knew that Ms. Nanami was a recent acquisition on the hotel staff, and therefore hardly known. Also, she never worked Wednesdays, meaning no one working on that day would know the difference between Sango and the true Aki.
Ah, the wonders of technology. It opened so many doors to those who knew what kind of key was needed.
The assassin had seen her opportunity and had taken it. She didn't have much time left, especially since the call she had received from her father in the wee hours of the morning warned that deft measures had finally been taken, and there was no longer any use for her in Sesshomaru's plans. This had probably been prompted by the fact that his brother, Inuyasha, had disappeared from the area due to Sango's interrupted arrival.
So she had received half the promised price for her attempt, and a quick shove out the door. Shocked, it took Sango a full five seconds to realize that Sesshomaru was not going to dispose of her. Now all that was left before she booted it to the mountains was getting her best friend back.
Which—if all went well—would be easy as pie. Sango had already hacked into the entire hotel's database, and had taken a good long look at Mr. Houshi's schedule. He was booked in meetings all day and halfway into the evening—an ample time frame to work with. She knew that he kept the security pretty loose around his apartment, putting his faith in the lower level security that had no doubt cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Sango wondered what it would like to have that kind of money, but then again, she already had a pretty good idea. After having been "conveniently" assigned to the top floors of the hotel, she had seen some of the rooms those with money stayed in. The bathtubs were bigger than rooms she had stayed in while travelling around the country. There was no need for an indoor pool for this place; the customers practically had one in their bathrooms.
It wasn't like she was hard off though. Sango hid a smile as she began cleaning the next room, pulling up silk-lined sheets and fluffing fancy embroidered pillows. Sesshomaru's part payment—albeit surprising—was welcomed warmly. Her funds to buy a house were fast approaching her target, and the assassin knew it wouldn't be long before she would be able to walk up to the house she had had her eye on for the last few years and offer an incontestable sum of money.
Just thinking about the house in the mountains gave Sango the strength to continue cleaning up after people who apparently couldn't understand how to hang up wet towels. The sickening orange scent that emanated from her cleaning supplies was enough to drive any sane person crazy, and the assassin thanked the spirits once again for having blessed her with hunting skills.
"Alright, Aki, you're on break now."
"Thank you, Ms. Tanuka."
Sango quickly deposited her cleaning cart at the far end of the hallway, along with her starched cleaning uniform. Careful to avoid any of the other workers filtering out of the rooms, she crept in the shadows thankful for the close fitting dark outfit she usually wore. When the doors of the elevator hid the last cleaner's image, Sango emerged. Luckily, she had already doctored the security cameras on this floor to chew up the tape in an hour or so.
And—as if she hung around in her outfit all the time—she casually waited for the elevator to return, hoping to pass off as an "entertainer" if someone were to see her. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that she was on time, but that didn't stop the assassin from impatiently tapping her foot against the fluffy carpet beneath.
'Hang in there, Kirara. I'll be up soon.'
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"Come on, come on! Take a shot!"
The shrill sound of the referee's whistle had Miroku groaning and sinking back into his couch. When the ball was given to the other team, the young man shook his head, and looked to the demon cat next to him. "See, little cat, this is why I stopped playing basketball. Too many screw-ups."
Whether he was referring to the referees or just the game in general, Kirara probably would never know. Instead, she watched the players move across the screen, passing the ball back and forth. With a contented mew, she dug herself an even deeper hole in her blankets, hardly able to move after splitting a cheeseburger and an extra helping of fries with her newfound friend. Feeling decidedly sleepy, she tried hard to keep her eyes open as she wondered what her mistress would think of her now.
"Pass it to 27! No, not him! What do you mean that was a foul? He wasn't even close to the guy!"
Miroku sighed once more, and took a swig of his coffee. He couldn't even begin to estimate the amount of caffeine he'd ingested since he started his vigil yesterday. After nearly twenty-four hours the businessman was proud to say he had watched four entire movies, three basketball games, and achieved only four hours of sleep—not including his numerous hours playing solitaire, eating, and trying to teach the cat how to play checkers. It was the coffee that had replaced his blood keeping him awake now.
He was ready to find another, more amusing channel when something on his computer screen caught his attention.
The computer, like him, had also pulled an all-nighter, displaying live footage from the secret camera in the only elevator leading up to his place, ever since Miroku had first gotten possession of the cat. The camera was not listed on any of the security detail, and only Miroku had access to and knowledge of it. It was a way of ensuring his safety without leaving it up to others. He figured it had worked pretty well in the past—so it would no doubt work now.
And working it was. For once in his life, Miroku completely ignored the image of the half-naked woman on his desktop. The camera was displaying something rather more interesting.
She was there, standing in the elevator, drumming her fingers on her arms as she waited for the light to move behind the floor numbers. It was the first time he was able to get a good look at the assassin and look he did. Frankly, it was hard for the self-acclaimed pervert to stop looking.
The suit she wore was hardly more than a stretchy piece of fabric pulled over some of her most flattering assets. Even in the black-and-white picture, Miroku could admire her lean shape, the muscles that stretched the black material to even more daring boundaries, and of course, the wonderful derriere that protruded so beautifully from the outfit.
If she hadn't been out to kill him, his best friend, and to destroy his apartment, Miroku might have been in love.
Sighing wistfully, he turned off the computer and then the television. 'Oh well, I guess it's time we got the show on the road.'
"Well, little cat," Miroku said, scooping up the demon in his arms without any fuss, "Your mistress is as punctual as ever. It's time for you and I to get working."
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"Damn electronic doors," Sango muttered as the final wire was cut and reattached. As much as technology benefited her, there were times when it still got in the way. Being a criminal must have been so much easier when all that kept you out were simply keyholes and giant iron keys.
Finally, a beep signalled the illegal unlocking of the door, and Sango found she could breath a sigh of relief. Sure, she knew that entering by way of the door was the stupidest thing she could possibly do. But her mind was weary after a night spent hacking into the closely guarded hotel system, and truthfully, she wanted to get this over with as fast as she could. The sooner she was on the road with Kirara safe on the passenger seat, the better.
A slim, sharp dagger was gripped in one hand and she made sure to take a few swipes as she cautiously pushed the door back. The assassin was braced for an attack, for a gunshot, for anything that might come her way upon her entrance. Who knew if the man had prepared something for her, a trap of sorts just in case?
It was with great relief that Sango lowered the dagger into her boot when all that met her eyes was an empty apartment. There was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and a few more scattered around the place, but not a human was in sight.
But what buoyed her heart from the mind-numbing worry that had fallen over her the past twenty-four hours was the sight of two ears poking out of a mound of blankets on the chair.
"Kirara," Sango cried quietly, approaching the chair as fast as she could, what with numerous tables and items in her way. 'This man is by far the messiest person I have ever tried broken in on.' Sango thought as she avoided a discarded remote control on the floor without knocking over the lamp next to it.
She should have noticed Kirara's lack of response, or even her lack of anything really, but she was too overjoyed at having finally gotten to her friend. Later on, the assassin would realize how utterly dim-witted she had been at that moment, ignoring all hunter instincts and even her own conscious. Her father would be ashamed if he had seen her performance.
But of course, during moments such as those, it is customary for someone to lose their reasoning, no matter how grounded they believe themselves to be. Such as true even for someone like Sango, who—at the moment—was just reaching out to wake up what she assumed was her sleeping friend.
The surprise barely registered as Sango pulled a large stuffed cartoon cat out of the mound of blankets. What did register was the sudden force tackling her to the ground from behind.
She barely had time to cry out, let alone reach for her dagger as the attacker pinned her arms to her sides and managed to subdue her struggling legs. But she did obtain some satisfaction when a grunt emanated from the person as her flailing knees caught it in a rather sensitive spot. It was then that Sango realized her enemy was a man, and she had a good idea about which man it was.
Squirming, kicking, and biting her way out soon proved to be too simple of plan, for it was the man she knew as Mr. Houshi who won the bout and expertly flipped her over onto her back.
'He's stronger than he looks.'
The assassin had never felt this helpless before, and she refused to accept that a human would be her final confrontation. She had always assumed that a demon would get to her first. But the leering face of the man made her realize it was never safe to assume things.
"For an assassin, you aren't as bright as I thought," The man said, the smirk ever present on his face as he reached down with one hand and withdrew her dagger, never letting his weight shift. It was at that moment when Sango realized he wasn't merely holding her down with arms and legs—his entire body had pinned her to the ground.
She caught herself before she blushed at this sudden comprehension and instead opted to fight back.
"You might not want to do that."
The sharp blade she had spent hours polishing now traitorously gleamed under her own throat, gripped tightly by her smiling enemy. It was almost too much failure in one span of time for Sango to grasp, let alone accept.
"Where's Kirara?"
"That's your cat, right? Oh, she's just sleeping in another room." He brought his face a little closer to hers. "We had a late night waiting for you to show up."
Kirara? Sleeping? Through this commotion? It made no sense…Suddenly the truth dawned on the assassin. "You drugged her, didn't you?"
The man—Miroku wasn't it? —merely gave a small shrug. "Nothing harmful, just a small sleeping pill inserted in her food. She'll be up and mewing in another hour or two. Now tell me who you are and your business here, and maybe I'll let your cat wake up a lot sooner."
Miroku winced inside at even saying something about harming the little cat, but it was best this way. Let the assassin think he was some tough brute. He needed to get the information from her somehow, and he seriously doubted she'd be open to a nice chat over a cup of tea.
Sango debated holding back all information, debated fighting and then thought otherwise. After all, it wasn't as if she was under Sesshomaru's power any longer, and therefore did not need to keep any kind of loyalty to him.
But still, she hesitated at giving away her identity. He didn't need to know her name—that was one boundary she didn't know whether she wanted crossed.
"If you must know, I was sent here by a man called Sesshomaru." As the light seemed to click on in Miroku's brain, Sango said snidely, "Ever heard of him?"
"Even if I wasn't friends with his younger brother I'd know that name. But try with a little more detail, we'd already figured that part out."
"So you're smarter than you look."
Miroku grinned, a combination of lechery, wariness, and anger burning in his dark eyes. "It's a miracle, isn't it? Now stop delaying, and tell me, or Kirara will be finding sleep the only thing she'll be doing."
Panic rose in Sango's throat, but she fought it. He wouldn't do something like that to an innocent—well, a partly innocent—demon cat…would he?
"Look, if you want me to talk, at least loosen up the weight. I can hardly breathe," Sango managed to gasp, and found the force on her chest decidedly lightened. But Miroku was truly smarter than he looked, for he kept a firm hold on her arms and legs.
'There goes escape plans,' The assassin thought as she managed to shift to a more comfortable position—as comfortable as she could get whilst being pinned down by a strange man who was currently holding a knife to her throat.
"Better?"
She nodded, bringing her chin up determinedly to prove that even if he had beaten her, he still hadn't won. But even that plan backfired when suddenly she found herself in close proximity to a rather handsome face and realized that her breathing problem wasn't entirely related to the weight he had put on her.
Pulling her face back as far as the floor beneath would let her, she gave away as much as she could without explaining too much about herself. "Your friend's brother hired me to kill him, offering a hefty sum and orders to get the job done right. Apparently he had had some failure in before and was in a hurry to get him out of the way. All I received from him was a few pictures and details about the hotel. There was nothing else needed for my job."
"Is that all?" Miroku rolled his eyes. "Come on, you can't fool me. You're also smarter than you look, and you'd have more to say than that."
Sango tried to shrug without catching the blade on her sensitive skin. "I'm just the hired help. Sesshomaru isn't the most chatty person out there."
"You're right about that," Miroku mumbled, his mind whirling in various directions ranging from Inuyasha's presumed dilemma and to the X-rated area of his mind. He was—after all—a man, and when it all came to down to something, Miroku usually relied on that fact. Hell, when she had been fighting back, it had taken all his willpower not to be aroused by the writhing body beneath.
And it was damn harder than it looked too.
"If you promise not to try and hurt, maim, or kill me, I'll let you up and we can have a more civilized conversation," Miroku offered, noting the dark circles under the assassin's eyes as she tentatively brought her eyes to meet his. They were lovely eyes too, dark and alluring with just a hint of coldness underneath.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we stay like this until you answer all my questions. Which could be a long time at this rate."
Sango tested the floor currently pressing into her back, and knew that it wouldn't be long before it would get painful. Besides, it would get Miroku away from her, and give her time to refill her lungs.
"Let me up."
Miroku knew she was one to stick to her word, and carefully brought his weight off of her, rising to his full height to stretch out the kinks. It hadn't been very comfortable hiding behind the low kitchen counter, pretending he was one with the cupboards whilst waiting for this woman in black.
Just as carefully Sango also rose, and eased out the numbness that had set into her limbs. But she kept the corner of an eye on the man beside her, feeling her skin prickle at the strangely heated gaze that was perusing her body.
At that particular moment—with Miroku's blatant stare—Sango realized how skimpy her outfit was. Nothing could stop the blush this time, so she hid by grabbing a large blanket off of the stuffed "Kirara", and wrapped it tightly around herself. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the man fully.
"Before I answer your questions, I want to see my friend."
Miroku's grin finally appeared on his face, and he swept his arms dramatically to a hallway behind the kitchen. It wouldn't hurt to let her see the cat—in fact it might get her to talk even more. The young man wasn't sure he was ready to let her disappear just yet. Besides, he would be waiting for any movement she made to escape, ready to stop her if she tried.
"Ladies first."
Sango had to keep from running to the room he pointed out once they reached the hall, but even as she walked, she felt her pace quicken. And every emotion she had been holding back was released as Miroku opened the door and presented her dearest companion curled up in the middle of a large bed, padded by pillows and blankets.
"Kirara!"
Miroku stood back to watch the assassin reunite with her friend, admiring the way the blanket still managed to cling to her subtle curves. He had gotten a good look at her when he had been on top and discovered that not only did she possess a wonderful figure, but also a face that—despite her hardened jaw and radiating anger—he imagined would be soft to the touch.
Women were wonders in this world, and only a blind man could not appreciate what Miroku saw. Yet he found it a little unsettling to discover a woman that seemed to embody many of the wonders he enjoyed watching contained in one neat package.
'I better not let Kagome hear me like this. She'd accuse me of being a romantic,' the businessman thought ruefully, marvelling at the sudden warmth that spilled from the woman's embrace of the sleeping demon. 'Damn, I wish I could be a cat.'
Miroku nearly forgot all that had happened in the last few days as he gazed at the lovely woman with the dark hair grasping her injured friend in her arms. And when her eyes finally met his, they no longer contained ice, but a shy, glowing quality to them.
It was a small miracle that he managed to keep his cool with such a woman in reach of him, but someone up in the sky had decided he was deserving of some help. Miroku wasn't too sure if that was the smartest blessing he had received, or the worst.
"Th…Thank you," Sango murmured, unable to understand the strange feeling that crept into her stomach and jerked it into all sorts of strange shapes. For God's sake, she had been out to hurt him only two days ago. It was no doubt due to all the sentimentality of seeing Kirara. No point in overanalysing. "She seems well taken care of."
"Despite what you think, I would never hurt a defenceless cat," Miroku said, amazed at the sudden turnabout in the attitudes of both of them. If animals did this to women, he was now convinced that a pet was a good investment for the future.
But the refreshing affectionate quality of the room dissipated and as quick as a gust of wind, the mood reverted back to the chilly weather they had established before. Sango had brought her barriers back up as fast as she could, as much to protect herself as to keep Miroku from seeing another, less threatening side of her. Little did she know he had already gotten a fair show of it, and was now more than ever determined to see it again.
"What do you want to know?" She asked coolly, keeping a firm grip on Kirara.
Miroku was not one to be beaten down easily, and as frosty as she had become, he now knew that there was more beneath the snowy layer. It was like playing hide and seek with Milkbones and a determined, hungry dog. " Your name for one."
She wondered why her brain felt like it had done a few turns in a blender, and then blamed it on the late night. The assassin wondered just how foolish it would be to reveal her name, then decided there was no harm from letting him know her first name. After all, there must be a few Sangos in this world. Right?
"It's Sango."
"Just Sango? Alright then, Miss Sango," He drawled, "I'm Miroku Houshi—"
A loud crash interrupted him in the middle of what would be a lengthy introduction. Indiscernible voices could be heard through the walls, and Sango knew that it wasn't a few window cleaners who had slipped and taken a dive through the window. Sesshomaru obviously was still hunting for his brother, and wasn't wasting any time.
The ache that had developed in her head seemed to grow, but she pushed it back, trying to focus on the moment. A quick glance assessed the man before her, and in that moment Sango made a big decision—one that she knew was bad.
Gesturing at the door with a quick jerk of her head, she tried to convey the message that she wanted to help. It took the man a few seconds before he seemed to fully grasp the magnitude of the assassin's offering, but as soon as he did, he quietly accepted without any hesitation.
For Miroku, it was a way of keeping the lovely girl around a bit longer. He didn't want to know why the prospect of never seeing her again made his stomach jump a little. Heading towards the door, he gestured for her to follow behind, understanding that they needed to surprise the intruders. If those new hit men caught them in the room, they would all be trapped and no doubt goners.
Sango followed just as quietly, her mind on the same train of thought. But her decision to stay wasn't because she wanted to stay around Miroku for a little while longer—although she would later admit that it was a bonus—but rather she felt the need to repay him somehow. Kirara was looking healthy, happy, and peaceful in her drug-induced sleep—the drug portion an aspect she was willing to overlook for the time being—qualities that made Sango realize perhaps the young man in front of her wasn't as bad as she first thought.
Besides, being in debt was a horrible nuisance, and the sooner the assassin repaid him, the easier it would be.
But still—even with her stubborn mind trying to close of all emotional valves—Sango couldn't help but notice the lithe figure of the man before her. And she couldn't help but admit that she had developed a bit of respect for him, even if his gazes did unsettle her to no end.
Oh well, there would be plenty of time to wonder about everything later. Right now, they had a few of what were no doubt Sesshomaru's minions to dispose of.
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Chapter Nine Coming Soon to a Theatre Near You!