Lessons In Love
Lesson One: A Little Flirting Goes A Long Way

It was an unbelievablely slow morning. And a cold one at that. It wasn't yet four, the sun wasn't up and the city was sluggishly starting to wake. Kagome Higurashi cleaned the counters for the third time in the space of two minutes and remade the fresh coffee. The Shikon was a popular coffee shop, even late at night. The quaint little shop not only had delicious coffee and pastries, but its waitresses' ran around, year long, in the tightest, smallest uniforms in history. And as if that wasn't bad enough, they were frosted pink, and came with fishnets and matching, disco earrings.

But the pay was good. For a young mother, Kagome was making enough to feed her young son, Shippo, as well as care for herself comfortably. The demeaning outfits and shady customers was a bearable price for the comfort of her small family.

Umi, however, Kagome's best friend and coworker, did it for the attention. Umi thrived on the lavish tips her c-cups and waist length blue hair brought her on the daily bases. Umi was quite beautiful, exceptionally. She had the prettiest hazel eyes and the sweetest, angelic smile out of the entire staff. Even her attitude stayed hopeful, loving and cheerful day after tiring day.

Kagome was cheered out, even as Umi was rubbing her breasts against the arm of an appreciative older gentleman. Nothing had gone quite right since midnight. First, the ice cream machine malfunctioned and spewed half its contents on Kagome's uniform. If that wasn't bad enough, it was a bitch to clean up, and the whole back room still smelled sugary.

Next, a group of late night club hoppers came in rip roaring drunk. Let's just say, puke was even harder to get up (and the smell to get out) than the ice cream. The power went out twice, a fight broke out, and her favorite event of all, three girls called in sick. To top off a horrible night, the supply truck had gotten lost. That meant they were still without half their supplies, which Kagome knew she'd be held accountable for by her bitch boss come Tuesday morning. She could already see her thin lips stretched tightly against her ghostly pale skin and her black hair whipping into the face of unsuspecting staff. Shikon Kikyo was a hard woman, not nice, not altogether mean, but…demanding. She expected so much out of twelve college kids that wanted nothing more than to pass their exams with C's.

But holiday bonuses were coming up. Kikyo was a Japanese-American, and celebrated Christmas. The others didn't quite understand the Christian holiday, but left it alone being that two hundred extra dollars was put into their pockets each year. Umi was the newest to the Shikon staff. She took her job as seriously as a kid in Chuckie Cheese. And as her breasts tottered on the edge of her lacy top, threatening to escape into the man's plate of eggs, the door chime rang in greeting to the first customer in about two hours.

The man was in his early twenties, with a handsome face and unshaved chin. He looked exhausted, a suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. The first three buttons of his baby blue silk shirt were undone, showing a hint of a very masculine chest. But it was his eyes there were the most striking. They looked almost purple in the light, a deep purple that was, at the time, lost in thought. Kagome took a moment to stare at the ugly stains set deep into her uniform.

The man sunk into the chair center to the bar and waved lazily at her. She hated people that waved, her name tag was printed in big, bold letters. It wasn't anything but common courtesy, she thought, to just call her by name.

She brought him a cup of coffee, steaming hot, hopefully, hot enough to burn him out of his rude stupor. He didn't look up as he accepted the cup from her hands, but he did pause a moment to take a deep, surveying breath. He let it out in a whoosh, blowing into the coffee and making it splash all over her clean counters. Kagome ground her teeth and placed her hands firmly on her hips.

"Rough night?" she guessed. His hair was disheveled, a look that was distinctly gorgeous on him, and seemingly of medium length, with the back pulled into a skinny ponytail. She noticed at that moment, that his clothes were terribly rumpled and there were lipstick smears along the collar of the otherwise, flawless, shirt.

"Nothing unusual….Kagome," he muttered taking a deep gulp from the searing hot coffee. He didn't even flinch, even though Kagome knew it had to be unbearably hot. And then, it registered that he'd called her by name. She managed a smile.

"I didn't think that busy men as yourselves stopped to read nametags," she lightly teased, wiping at the drops of coffee along his cup and the counter. He looked up, his eyes were the saddest she'd seen in a while.

He nodded to her shirt, "You're not wearing a name tag," he returned her smile and even chuckled lightly into his cup. She looked down, he was right, she wasn't. She remembered that Shippo had it just before she walked out the door. She cursed silently to herself, it was a good thing Ms. Shikon didn't come for the weekly inspection.

She frowned, "Mr, I always remember a face, you haven't been in here before have you?" she asked. He put down his cup, smacking his lips in appreciation.

"That's damn good coffee, Kagome," he pointed to the pastry display directly behind her, "Be a dear and get me one of those doughnuts," he smiled a smile that seemed to wipe that melancholy from his eyes. He was charming, she thought as she turned to dig up his doughnut from the overflowing pile she'd made out of pure boredom.

"You're avoiding my question," she observed, placing two doughnuts before him hoping to butter him up a bit. She nonchalantly swept a few loose spiraled strands of hair from her face. He followed her movement, a flirtatious smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

"Clever girl, but, if I answer your silly little question I'll destroy the air of mystery that's urging you to continue to keep me company," he tasted the first doughnut before beginning to nibble on the corners. He grunted in delight, "Delicious doughnuts as well, chocolate, the best flavor there is," he sighed approvingly. Kagome, for the first time on her shift, was thoroughly amused.

She poured him another cup of coffee and watched as he drank the second one without cream or sugar. For a moment she thought deviously to herself, wondering if there was a way to get her pretty eyed companion to disclose his reason for knowing her name.

Mr. Eyes looked up when he heard Umi's booming laughter in her private little corner with her admirer. The man was offering her money for god knows what, and Umi was waving it away with her trademark smirk. Umi pressed a chaste kiss against the guy's cheek, rubbing away the pink lip gloss that smeared as a result. The man tucked the money back into his pocket, a forlorn look to him as he rose. Umi pouted and the man whispered something before kissing her hand.

Kagome had to hold back a chuckle herself when Umi blew the poor man a kiss as he walked out the door. As soon as he was safe inside his car and backing out of the parking lot, Umi turned with a grunt of disgust.

"Ugh, that coot thought that I would sleep with him! For money of all things!" she frowned and wiped the back of her hand vigorously on her skirt. She humphed indignantly, and marched to the backroom where everyone could hear some quite unladylike swear words.

With a quiet little laugh to herself, Kagome left Mr. Mystery to his doughnut and coffee while cleaning up the dishes from Umi's male friend's table. Kagome knew his eyes were on her, she could feel them burning into her backside. Instead of anger and disgust, she felt a tiny thrill go up her spine, and she swished a little more than necessary when she bent down to get a fallen spoon.

"Your perfume is very unique you know," Mr. Mystery called to her. She looked up from the pile of dirty dishes and gave him her most innocent smile. She carefully balanced the four plates and three cups with one arm while sweeping the table clean with the other. She sashayed back behind the counter, dumping the dishes in the sink, quick to get rid of them.

"What do you know about perfumes?" she asked using a little soap to wash her hands clean. He poured his own cup of coffee, adding a little syrup to her surprise. He swirled the odd concoction with his finger, his eyes glued to the rim of his cup.

"You remember faces, I remember scents. You've worn the same perfume for six years," he looked up at her a secretive gleam in his gorgeous eyes. This time she studied him for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. He was handsome, but it was his eyes and hair that made all the difference. He did seem a little bit familiar, but she guessed it to be from their light banter.

"Six years is a long time to remember somebody's scent," she murmured softly to herself. She tapped her temple a few times with her manicured fingers, still at a lost for words. She just didn't remember him.

"High School, Kagome," he hinted. He turned from her to ask Umi for a doughnut while she sat back to think a moment. Highschool was a hectic few years for her. She didn't do any mingling, her goal was perfect grades, and she'd been a genuine nerd. She went through groups of study partners, lunch friends, and the boys that had lockers close to hers…

"Jeez, no light bulb yet?" he teased gently. She was starting to experience a few levels of frustration as she glanced down at him one more time. Her face scrunched up in concentration as her yearbook came to mind.

Mr. Mystery and Umi looked at each other in mutual wonder as Kagome's face turned three different shades of red and her hands began to shake a little bit.

"You look constipated," Umi gasped touching Kagome's shoulder. Kagome moaned, shaking her head. She knew a headache was building.

"Brain fart, can't help it," she sighed turning to look back at Umi and their early morning visitor. Kagome couldn't hold back the slight shriek she emitted when she soaked up Mr. Mystery's alternated identity.

He'd taken the rubber band out of his hair, letting it fall down to his shoulders. He had pulled a pair of large, out of date, rainbow colored glasses from somewhere and they were wobbling on the edge of his nose.

He looked exactly as he did six years ago, in Mr. Okinea's Statistics class. The glasses made his eyes look very small, so small you couldn't notice their brilliant color. His hair blocked his attractive dimples and made his face look ridiculously narrow. She stifled a laugh, she did knew who the hell he was.

"Oh Kami! Miroku!" she lost the battle with courtesy and threw her head back and laughed heartily. Umi joined in, noting that Mr. Fine had turned into Super Dork in a matter of two seconds.

"Whoa, I bet you got no ass in high school!" Umi shrieked. Miroku's brow quirked and a defeated sigh followed the girl's as they fell over themselves to get into the back room. Miroku folded up his glasses and tucked them safely into his jacket pocket, and he carefully placed his hair back into its ponytail, allowing a few dark strands to fall seductively into his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a tiny bit of anger killing his joyous mood and sending him back into reminisce.

He'd wanted her to recognize, not ridicule him.

Ha Ha!

I'm back, good lord it feels great.

First things, those that read the first chapter of Tortured Souls, forgive me for the long ass delay. I'll just say that I wasn't getting into turning Sango into an……wait, no cookies for you…none!

Well, this is my newest story, one that I promise to keep up with (scouts honor)! I hope I haven't lost my tiny pool of reviewers….where are ya guys?