Disclaimer: Do not own any Anime...and I'm not writing it again.

I'm really sorry again, I check all the grammars and spellings, and punctuations the best I can, I hope it's better.

Unlikely Neighbors

Self-made millionaire Sesshoumaru Takari works long hours, and his Tokyo home is his retreat from the world---a world in which women aren't welcome. Enter one very disruptive next-door neighbor, Kagome Higurashi, who takes his invasion into his privacy one step too far. He'll take pleasure in teaching her a lesson!

Impulsive Lovers

To Kagome, her neighbor is detestable---and dangerous. Yet he seems set on catching her...and she can all too easily imagine abandoning herself in his arms! But if she does, he will discover her secret, and if there's one thing Sesshoumaru doesn't like, it's secrets---and lies...but then...so does she.

Chapter 1

"You're not serious."

Kagome Higurashi paused in the act of extracting herself from the bottom of the stairs. She was clasping a large artist's easel. She was of medium height but it was bigger than she was.

"Yes, I am," she said. Or rather puffed. The easel was not heavy but it was awkward, and she had wedged and balanced and pulled it down four flights of stairs. "I need it for my work."

She squeezed past and found that a lock of wavy midnight black hair had tangled in a wooden joint. She detached it, wincing. Then she put both arms around the easel again and, locked in a rigid embrace, began to back toward the front door.

Sango leaned against the doorpost and watched.

"You look as if you're dancing with an alien," she remarked helpfully.

Kagome's back was beginning to arch under the pressure.

"Thank you very much for your support," she gasped over her shoulder.

Sango took pity on her. She stepped forward and briskly righted the easel.

"There has got," she announced, " to be an easier way to carry that thing than this. Doesn't it collapse?"

Thus relieved, Kagome straightened. She rubbed the back of her neck.

"No, that was me collapsing," she said ruefully.

But Sango, ever practical, was considering the problem. At last, she propped the easel against the wall and started twirling butterfly nuts decisively. There was a clunk and three sections abruptly telescoped. Kagome stared, amazed.

Sango dusted her hands. "Didn't you know it did that?"

Kagome shook her head. "I knew it was supposed to but I bought it second hand. I haven't ever been able to undo those things. If only I had your strength," she mourned.

"It's not strength; it's in the wrist action," Sango said practically. "That's what Martial Arts and Home Economics does for you."

"All that beating guys and egg whites by hand," Kagome agreed. "I've heard about it." She looked at the easel and gave a sudden spurt of laughter. "I've been moving this thing round from room to room, trying to find the best light for painting, and every time I did, I collected a new set of bruises." She reached out and rotated a butterfly nut. "I should have consulted you earlier."

"You'd do much better to get yourself a man," Sango told her roundly. "They're designed for moving furniture."

Kagome laughed even harder. "Too much like work."

When she had stopped choking, she picked up the easel and headed for the small van outside. Sango took hold of the last bags in the hall and followed.

"I mean it," she said. "All right, you couldn't ask anyone home as long as you were living with Ayame and Kagura. Not while they were scratching each other's eyes out. But now that you're going to be on your own, why don't you do something about your social life?"

Kagome shook her head. "I have to fit my painting round full-time teaching as it is. What time do I have for a social life?"

She stuffed the easel into the back of the can. Sango handed her one of the bags.

"Books," she said briefly. "Stuff them down there."

Kagome wedged them obediently. Sango peered in the other bag.

"This looks like bath stuff." She picked over the contents. "Soap, bath oil, shampoo. Anything precious?"

"No, but it might leak." Kagome closed the van doors and held out her hand. "I'll hold them."

They got in and set off. Sango drove with care. Kagome sat beside her, clutching the bath time unguents upright and reading the road map over the top of them. Sango said, "Do you mind if we go via the supermarket? Time got away from me last night and the cupboard is bare."

Kagome looked at the London pavements, diamond bright in the morning sun.

"Be my guest. My time's my own."

If she had not been clutching the spill able liquids she would have stretched with delight. As it was she flexed her shoulder voluptuously. She was almost purring.

Sango laughed. "Anyone would thing you haven't enjoyed sharing a flat with two of London's hippest swingers."

Kagome nodded gravely. "No more unloading other people's knickers from the machine before I can do my washing. No more queuing for the telephone. No more booking the bath. Oh, bliss."

All he wanted, thought Sesshoumaru Takari, was peace and a bath.

The overnight plane from New York had been full and late. Now there were too many pushing bodies round the baggage carousels and so many people were shouting into their mobile phones that Sesshoumaru could not hear himself think. He said so.

"Redirecting whoever was meeting them," said the respectful airline official beside him. It was the first time she had greeted this newest of the company's non-executive directors and she was working hard at it. Sesshoumaru Takari had the reputation of being as tough as he was gorgeous. And he was gorgeous.

She looked at him and sighed. Tall and athletic, unique amazing looks---definitely not a typical millionaire. At least not in her experience. A movie star maybe. She had met plenty of those too. Except no movie star had that air of taking harsh decisions hourly---and not regretting a single one. She would not like to get on the wrong side of Sesshoumaru Takari.

And then he surprised her again.

"The great technological advance," he said sardonically. "For which I and my kind are responsible.

She looked up. His molten lava, amber eyes were lit with wicked laughter. She smiled back, relaxing a little.

She touched her own mobile phone. " Would you like me to notify anyone?"

He shook his head. "Not a problem."

Of course, she thought. It would not be a problem for the owner of Takari International. No doubt he had a brigade of personal assistants looking after the practical details.

He confirmed it. "Bates will wait as long as it takes. "That's what I pay him for."

She was sure he was right. Bates, whoever he was, would do just that. Sesshoumaru Takari had the superb assurance of a man who had not been disobeyed in a long time.

"Well, at least we should be able to get you through this quickly."

Gorgeous though he undoubtedly was, Sesshoumaru did look tired, she thought sympathetically. No---more than tired: wiped out. She led him quickly through Customs and out onto the main concourse. In spite of his exhaustion, Sesshoumaru gave her a warm smile. (Ace: ya, I know, impossible, but I warned you guys he would be major out-of-character (MAJOR OOC)).

"Thank you," he said holding out his hand. "I really appreciate your help. Goodbye."

She shook hands. "Goodbye." She surprised herself by adding; "I'd go home and have a good rest if I were you."

A weary smile lit his eyes. "I'm not even going to wait that long. I've been thinking about stretching out on the back seat of the Roller for the last three hours."

It was true. He was so tired that he felt his bones crumbling inside him, but he was not worried. He scanned the crowd. Thank God all he had to do was keep upright for another few minutes and then Bates would take over.

Bates was a rock, Sesshoumaru thought. He was always waiting when he said he would be, on the same spot---just to see the side of an automatic door, away from the push of the crowd---always immaculate, always blessedly silent. Thank God for Bates.

"Sesshoumaru," called out a voice.

Not Bates. Bates called him Mr. Takari in public and Taisho in private, or when he forgot. Mr. and Mrs. Bates had been with him ever since Ceila had announced that millionaires' wives did not keep house. In fact the voice sounded horribly like Ceila's for a moment. He braced himself.

But it was not Ceila, the unregretted first Mrs. Takari. It was Kagura Leiko, who wanted to be the second.

"Sesshoumaru. Over here."

What had the girl said? Go home and have a good rest? Just exactly the plan he had himself. He looked at Kari, advancing on him vivaciously, and assessed his chances of carrying it out in the immediate future. None.

She was upon him.

"Kagura," said Sesshoumaru without enthusiasm. "What are you doing here?"

Kagura was not deterred. She was bright-eyed and quite determined that he was delighted to see her.

Sesshoumaru groaned inwardly. Asleep on his feet and he had to play social games. Oh, well, Bates would be along in a moment and then he could make his escape. In the mean time he pulled himself together and held out his hand with composed good manners.

But Kagura was not interested in good manners. She flung her arms around him.

Sesshoumaru recoiled, but tiredness slowed his reactions. It was too late. She was kissing him full on the mouth.

"Darling," said Kagura.

Sesshoumaru swayed.

Kagura cuddled in closer. "It's been so long," she murmured.

Sesshoumaru let his case fall and stabilized himself with care. Then he caught her by the wrists and held her away from him.

"What's this?"

Kagura's eyes fell. "You seem to have been away for ever," she cooed. But her laugh sounded forced.

This, thought Sesshoumaru grimly, is entirely my own fault.

Break the rules once---just once---and you've got only yourself to blame.

He said dryly, "You knew exactly how long I was going to be away, Kagura. My secretary arranged a meeting for next week."

She looked pained. "But that's business."

"Oh, God," muttered Sesshoumaru under his breath.

The Takari board had decided some months ago that they needed a PR campaign to fight off a rumored take-over bid. He had reluctantly agreed, and he had to admit Kagura Leiko and her team had done a good job.

The problem had arisen one evening when, after a long day and a longer official dinner, Kari hade made it more than clear that Takari International was not all she was interested in.

Sesshoumaru had been feeling very alone that night. (Ace: (--)). He had stayed. He had regretted it immediately.

Being Sesshoumaru, he was used to facing unpleasant truths and then dealing with them. So he had told her so. Kari had not appeared to hear him.

She had gone on not hearing him for months. Sesshoumaru had got more and more suspicious. Take this morning---the spontaneous kiss was utterly out of character. And yet...

He said (...) gently, "Kagura, I'm out on my feet. This is no time to talk if you want me to make sense.

She nestled into his shirtfront. "Then don't let's talk," she murmured.

Sesshoumaru looked at her incredulously.

She caught herself at once and smiled appealingly. "Oh, it's good to have you back. I've thought about you so much."

Now why didn't that ring true? Sesshoumaru thought. He looked at her: expensively disarranged hair, long, shapely legs, a skirt that professional women's fashion decreed should be three inches above the knee, black suit with red facings. The facings, he noted with his usual precision, were exactly the same color as her crimson nails. And lips. For her own private reasons she might have chosen to start behaving like a Labrador puppy. But she was still turning herself out like the successful career woman she was. Even on a Saturday morning, meeting the man she professed to be in love with.

He let go of her wrists. "Have you?" he said dryly.

Kagura's eyes fell away from his. "I was beginning to think I'd missed you---you're so late. Was it a terrible flight? I've been here for ages."

Sesshoumaru said coolly, "There was no need. Bates is collecting me."

The luxury of the beautifully maintained Rolls Royce had never seemed more desirable. Nor had Bates' unemotional welcome.

Kagura laughed up at him. "Oh, no, he isn't. I gave him the day off."

Sesshoumaru went very still.

"You did what?" he said softly.

His subordinates would have recognized danger signs. Kagura seemed oblivious.

She repeated it blithely. "I thought it was time you and I had a good talk. This looked like the ideal chance."

Sesshoumaru stared at her in disbelief. Kagura ignored it. Now she had made her announcement, she stopped being puppyish. She disengaged herself briskly and made for the exit. Her high heels tapped like hailstones on the shiny floor.

"Come along," she flung over her shoulder.

Sesshoumaru picked up his case and followed. But if she looked she would have seen his expression was unpromising in the extreme.

Kagura Leiko brought her car, a red sports job that matched her nails. It was three months old. Sesshoumaru knew that because Kagura had not been able to talk about anything else for weeks. It had taken him some time, but eventually light had dawned. She had wanted him to make her a present of the racy new car.

It was then that Sesshoumaru had got really suspicious. He'd stopped their occasional dates and began to detach himself at once. And now Kagura wanted a good talk.

Sesshoumaru was torn. His every instinct told him to tell Kagura to get lost. He could take a taxi home easily enough. But his conscience stirred uncomfortably. If he had not spent that night with her, she would never have started this.

He said quietly, "Do you think now is such a good time to talk? I haven't been to bed for three days. I could be less that my flexible best."

Kagura waved his objections aside. "This is the rest of our lives we're talking about," she said in reproof.

He looked at her gravely for a moment.

"You're talking about," he corrected.

But she was sliding behind the steering wheel and did not hear him. Or pretended not to. Sesshoumaru shrugged. If that was the way she wanted to play it, fine.

So he flung his case into the back and inserted his long frame into the passenger sear. He clipped his seat belt and, stretching, tipped his head back against the headrest.

New York time, it was around four o'clock in the morning. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes.

Kagura began to talk at once. She was in full flood before she had even negotiated the short-term car park. By the time they were on the motorway for Tokyo she was well into the middle of a carefully rehearsed speech.

Sesshoumaru let it wash over him. He was regretting Bates' absence more by the minute. Why did women always want to make a drama out of everything? At the craziest times too. (Ace: No offense people, I'm still a girl, not a WOMAN... hehehe).

"It's just stupid to let things drift," Kari said with energy. "We're both adults. We both know what we want."

For the first time an answer was clearly required. Sesshoumaru opened his eyes.

"We do," he agreed dryly.

It was the right answer. Superficially, at least. And Kagura Leiko was not one for hearing the subtext, he thought.

She gave an indulgent laugh. "The trouble with you, Sesshoumaru, is you're just scared to commit. You got burned once, so you think it will happen again."

"No. It won't happen again," he said quietly.

So quietly, it seemed, that Kari did not hear that either.

"You channel all your feeling into work so you don't have to take any emotional risks. The world is full of men like you."

Sesshoumaru sighed. " Why'd you say full?"

"My therapist says all successful men are out of touch with their inner child. The trouble is..."

Sesshoumaru switched off. The was only so far conscience would carry him. When Kagura started talking about her therapist, it gave out. Oh, Bates, Bates, where are you? He mourned inwardly.

Kagura continued to analyze his character for the next ten miles. Traffic lights did not give her pause. Road works did not deflect her. The monologue took them over Wakayashi Bridge (Ace: made it up), though the Saturday-morning shopping traffic and into the quiet Gashi square (Ace: also made it up) where Sesshoumaru had his house.

All the time he looked out of the window, neither contradicting nor encouraging. Eventually, Kagura stopped the car outside his door. She swung around to face him.

"Well?" she said.

Sesshoumaru brought his attention back. "Well, what?" he said wearily.

"What are you going to do about it?"

He looked bored. "Your therapist, Thank God, is no concern of mine."

She was disconcerted. "What?"

"This taradiddle (Ace: it's one of my fave word, sorry if it's weird). Didn't you say it was your therapist's idea?"

Kagura bit her lip. "Of course not."

Sesshoumaru raised his eyebrows. The were startlingly dark. When raised they soared upwards until they nearly touched his hairline. One besotted girlfriend had said they made him look like a samurai warrior.

Kagura thought he just looked like a devil, a mocking, indifferent devil. She began to wonder whether her careful strategy had been so clever after all. But she was an intelligent woman and she had been in the world of negotiations for a long time. If there was one thing she knew, it was how not to be discouraged by the first setback. She had always known that getting Sesshoumaru Takari to the altar would not be easy.

She pulled herself together and said quietly, "I told you what Madame Piroska said because that's what I think too. She put everything in perspective for me."

"Then I'm glad for you," Sesshoumaru said politely.

He undid his seat belt and got out of the car. Kagura sat watching him as he tipped the seat forward. For all its compactness, his case was not easy to get past the obstacle of designer seats and headrests. The sports car was not really intended to carry anything in the back except the odd make-up bag, he thought dryly. Kagura frowned.

"Sesshoumaru, you can't run away from this."

He finally extracted the case. He did not reply. But he closed the car door with a finality that was an answer all on its own. Kagura discarded her seat belt and whipped out of the car. She faced him across the roof.

"Look," she said rapidly, "we've had some fun. But we're not kids. We both need some stability in our lives. And we get on well---very well."

It was hard to sound sexy at ten o'clock on a brilliant summer morning, with a car between you and object of your attentions. Especially when the man in question was not trying to hide his derision. But Kari gave it her best shot. She even lowered her lashes to give him a long, smoldering look. It was supposed to remind him of exactly how well they got on.

It did not have the desired effect. Derision became out-right amusement. Kagura abandoned the tactic.

She said sharply, "You can't keep me on a string forever."

The amusement was wiped away on the instant. His eyes hardened. "Is the what I'm doing?"

"You know it is." She leaned forward, one fist on top of the car roof. "I never know where I am. You---" She broke off.

A ramshackle van had drawn up behind them with a squeal of unoiled brakes. Kagura glared at it impatiently.

"Oh, this is impossible," she exclaimed. "Let's go indoors and get some coffee, for heaven's sake."

She turned towards the front door.

Sesshoumaru said without expression, "I think not."

Kagura swung around. She looked as if she didn't believe her ears. Sesshoumaru gave her a faint, weary smile and the angry protest died on her lips.

He picked up his case and came round the front of the car.

"It was good of you to meet me," he said. He did not even try to sound as if he meant it.

Behind them in two tattered jeans started unloading the can. They did not do it quietly. Sesshoumaru winced inwardly.

"But now I'm going to crash out. If I can."

Kagura didn't like that. "Sesshoum---"

"No coffee," he said with finality. "Look," he said, struggling to be honest, "I'm sorry if anything I've done has misled you. The truth is, marriage is not for me. No amount of talking will change that."

Kagura swallowed. Two spots of color burned high in her cheekbones. She did not say anything.

"There was a loud crash, followed by peals of girlish laughter. It was the last straw. Furious, Sesshoumaru swung round.

A collapsed artist's easel lay drunkenly against the privet hedge next door. The two girls caught sight of his expression and their laughter died.

"This is a residential square," he flung at them in icy tones.

They got their breath back.

"Well, excuse us for breathing," one of them said.

She was a pretty tall girl, about 5"6, with long brown hair reaching above her waist, and a pugnacious expression. Her companion murmured something conciliatory. The companion had long legs and long, wavy, mid-night-raven hair of sort. Sesshoumaru's eyes skated over both equally with glacial indifference.

He was curt. "Then breathe quietly."

The companion became rapidly less conciliating. She took a step forward.

"I have a right to move my stuff." Her voice was shaky but she looked at him straight in the eye, which he noticed eyes like moonlight---silver-aquamarine blue.

No one had ever looked at Sesshoumaru like that, especially not a woman. Even before he made his first million women had been intrigued by him. These days they either fawned on him or---occasionally---tried to pretend to ignore his tall distinguished attraction. Even now, the brown-haired girl had a distinctly speculative look.

But the other one---Sesshoumaru could not remember any girl looking at him with dislike before. Particularly not when she was shaking with anger and nerves at the time. For a moment he was taken aback.

Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm sorry if we disturbed you." She did not sound as if she meant it. "Moving isn't a quiet business."

Sesshoumaru was blank (Ace: (O.O) like that will ever happen). "Moving? You mean---?" He gestured at the articles on the pavement with disbelief. The looked as if they had been salvaged from a junkyard. "You're moving that? In here?"

The girl flushed but her chin came up. It was a particularly a pretty pointed chin, he noticed irrelevantly.

"And why not?"

Kagura said pleadingly, "Darling---"

Sesshoumaru ignored that. He stared at the girl, his eyes hard. "Are you squatters?"

"Of course not. I'm house-sitting for the Shiros" Her voice wobbled all over the place. This time though it was due to pure fury, Sesshoumaru thought.

He found he liked the light of battle in the girl's eyes. It infuriated him.

"Prove it," he snapped.

"Darling---"

"Mrs. Hakuro interviewed me." The girl flung at him like a javelin.

"Oh." Lasshe Hakuro was Dasyo Shiro's sister. Sesshoumaru knew her slightly.

The girl could see she had scored a winning point. She allowed herself a smile, which bordered on gloating. "Would you like to see my references?" she taunted.

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed to slits. Light of battle was one thing. Triumph he did not like.

"I'll discuss that with Mrs. Hakuro," he said.

"Darling," said Kagura again, her tone a command. "This is no time to get sidetracked."

She moved, scarlet heels tapping on the glittering pavement, and aligned herself beside him. She looked the two girls up and down. She was very self-possessed.

"You can't leave that thing here." She did not even look at the battered van but it was clear what she meant.

"Watch me," said the girl with mid-night hair.

Kagura gave a faint smile, her superiority not even dented.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want it towed away."

The girl snorted. "You can't have a car towed away because it lets down the tone of the neighborhood."

Kagura said briskly, "You would be surprised what I can do if I set my mind to it. Now tidy up your bits and pieces and move that thing."

She turned away as if there was no more to be said. The raven-haired girl did not agree.

She said with deceptive mildness, "Are you threatening me?"

Kagura was taken back. For the first time she looked uncertain. She turned to Sesshoumaru, laying her scarlet-tipped finger on his arm beseechingly.

Even in his present jet lagged state it was an appeal to which he had to respond. He had been watching the sharp little exchange as if he was in a dream. Now he roused himself.

"Miss Leiko is right. This is an area where the parking is reserved for residents," he said. "The police can remove anyone else."

The girl bit her lip. She did not like it but she was clearly trying to contain her anger. "We won't be here long. We're only unloading."

Suddenly all the tiredness was back. Sesshoumaru could feel himself swaying. He jerked himself upright and said more coldly than he meant, "Well, try to keep it civilized."

The girl picked up a big piece of carboard with a garish picture on one side of it and took a hasty step forward.

"You mean like not throwing things?" she asked sweetly tossing it at the other girl. Kagura gave a small, ladylike scream. The other girl caught the picture, but only just.

All the tiredness left Sesshoumaru abruptly. "That was a very childish thing to do."

The girl's eyes glittered. The tilt of that chin was now positively militant. She glared at Sesshoumaru.

"Yes, wasn't it?" she agreed.

She picked up the easel. It was more unwieldy than the picture and rocked in her hands.

"They say we should all release our childhood repressions," the girl said thoughtfully. She looked very young and determined. And not at all in control of the easel.

"My car," screeched Kagura, diving forward.

Sesshoumaru had a sudden, inexplicable desire to laugh. He turned his head away.

"What would Madame Piroska have to say about that?" he muttered.

But Kagura was not listening. She had lost her air of superiority in a simple alarm.

"If you scratch my car, I'll sue you till the pipes squeak," she shouted.

The girl tossed back her raven hair and cast her a look of unutterable scorn. Kagura's alarm escalated to panic.

"You c-can't," Kari stuttered.

The girl smiled. "You'd be surprised what I can do if I set my mind to it," she retorted with satisfaction.

Kagura was pale. "That's pure vandalism."

Even the girl's companion seemed a bit disconcerted.

"Kagome," she protested.

Sesshoumaru took charge.

"This is nonsense. And you know it."

He removed the easel from the girl's hand with efficient ease. She glared, her eyes hot.

She said in a low, shaking voice, "Don't tell me what I know and don't know."

Sesshoumaru's brows twitched together. The girl had been shaking with nerves at the start of the encounter. Now she has hell bent on war. It was amusing---and very odd. He knew that if he had not been so tired he would have got to the bottom of it. But those sleepless hours were catching up with him.

He said dismissively, "Then don't behave like a fool." And turned away.

The girl stamped in temper. It was a hard stamp and it sent the easel rocking. Before Sesshoumaru knew what was happening, the thing had swung up in his hand and banged hard against the passenger door. There was a nasty silence as they all stared at the long, irregular scratch.

Kagura let out a wail.

"That's torn it," said the brown-haired girl.

Furious with himself, Sesshoumaru cast the easel away from him. It fell softly, yet hard into the hedge.

"If you have damaged my easel, you will replace it," announced the raven-haired one. She was clearly on a roll.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Sesshoumaru. He was no longer amused.

She showed her teeth with a smile that was an open challenge.

"Just trying to keep things civilized," she mocked.

Their eyes locked. Sesshoumaru didn't trust himself to speak. He turned on his heel and stormed into the house. Behind him the girl laughed. He was so irritated that he forgot the he had refused Kari's entry. With one last angry glance at her maltreated car, she strode into the house after him. When Mrs. Bates appeared in the hallway. Sesshoumaru's irritation reached new heights. He turned.

"I told you, Kagura. No coffee. No heart-to-heart. Just go away," he said with great firmness.

"But---"

He held the front door open for her. "Goodbye, Kagura."

"Wow," said Sango as they stormed off. "You really told him. I've never seen you like that."

Kagome leaned against the lamppost. Not just her hands, but also her whole body was shaking.

"Nor have I," she said uncertainly. "I don't know what came over me."

Sango pursed her lips. "Don't you?"

"No." Kagome was honestly puzzled. "Do you?"

"I'd say your hormones just met a worthy opponent," Sango said cheerfully.

"What?" Kagome was horrified.

Sango laughed aloud.

They took everything inside. Eventually a fair amount of it was stashed in the hall while Kagome decided what to do with it, but at least it was not littering the pavement anymore. Kagome began a systematic search for an instant coffee.

Sango looked around the chromium and white kitchen and words failed her.

"It's more like a laboratory than a kitchen," said Kagome gloomily. "What's more, the machines all look alike. I tried to wash a blouse in the cooker last night."

Sango shook her hear. "The size of it," she said at last. "It's a football pitch."

Kagome looked over her shoulder from the third cupboard door she had opened. "I'll get plenty of exercise racing from the fridge to the stove," she agreed with a grin.

Sango was awed. "If this place doesn't teach you to cook, nothing will."

"Nothing will," Kagome said firmly. The cupboard was full of gold-edged china. She shut the door and moved on. "If God has meant us to cook he wouldn't have invented take-away pizza.

"I wish I thought you didn't mean that."

Sango taught Home Economics at the same school as Kagome taught art and spent her spare time writing what she claimed to be the ultimate cookbook. In theory, Kagome was illustrating it. But it had rapidly emerged that Kagome did not know a sauce Béarnaise from a rice pudding. From time to time Sango invited her to her home and did her best to remedy her education. But, as they both acknowledged, it was an uphill struggle.

Now Kagome said cheerfully, "While I can work the microwave, I don't need anything else."

Sango shuddered.

"As long as I can tell it from the burglar alarm, that is"

"Burglar alarm!" Sango was startled. She looked around as if she expected one of the silent machines to bite. "Is this stuff gold-plated or something?"

Kagome shook her head. "It's the area. Oh, they've got some antique furniture and a couple of good pictures. But mainly it's because this is the sort of road that professional burglars like. Well, you saw what those two were like out there. There's even a millionaire next door."

"Really? How do you know?"

"Mrs. Hakuro told me. Ah!" She emerged from the seventh cupboard with a jar in her hand. "Coffee at last. Unless you want to hold out for freshly ground beans? There are bound to be some, somewhere."

"Black, no sugar," said Sango. Hard-working schoolteachers could not afford to be coffee snobs. She leaned on the counted as Kagome plugged the kettle. "Do you suppose that was him just now?"

"Who? The millionaire? Kagome turned back, startled by this novel thought. "Oh, I wouldn't think so. The millionaire is quite old, I think. And antisocial."

Andrea nodded. She was disappointed, but she was a realist. "He might have come on like Napoleon but he certainly wasn't old."

"Nor antisocial," Kagome said with irony. "Not with a blonde like that in tow." (Ace: no offense)

Sango sighed. "She was a knockout, wasn't she?" Her tone was wistful.

Kagome gave her a sharp glance.

"Probably got ingrown toenails," she said briskly. "And a heart like Cruella De Vil."

Kagome laughed suddenly. "And you," she said, "have got a heart like chocolate fudge."

Kagome opened her eyes wide, disconcerted. "Me?"

"You. I wouldn't know what to do if I was a knockout blonde. But it's nice of you to comfort me. That kettle has boiled by the way."

Kagome found mugs and spooned coffee granules into them. Sango leaned her elbows on the counter.

"You know, it's odd," she mused. "You're so gorgeous yourself. And yet you seem to know exactly what it's like to be plain and difficult. I think that must be why the kids like you so much."

Kagome's hands didn't falter. "The kids like me," she said without excitement, "because they get to make a filthy mess in my class and they can bop around to DBSK at the same time. Teenage heaven."

She poured boiling water on the granules. Sango took her mug.

"And who brought the cds of DBSK in to school in the first place?"

Kagome relaxed. She gave her wicked grin. "I like them."

"Your eardrums are depraved. I'm surprised Naraku hasn't confiscated them."

Kagome tensed imperceptibly. "My eardrums?"

"The tapes. I suppose he's too relieved there's one afternoon a week when the escape committee have a truce."

Kagome nodded. They taught at a big school with a lot of children from deprived families. Truancy was a problem.

"I guess."

"In fact, Naraku must love you."

Kagome jumped. She disguised it by pretending that her coffee was too hot, but she was not sure Sango was deceived. Naraku Shinto's attentions were becoming an embarrassment, especially as he was the headmaster. She did not know how much her colleagues had noticed. She did not want to give any reason to confirm whatever rumors there might be.

So she said lightly, "Me and Miroku Kashi. He's teaching the grade ten's salsa in their gym lesson."

"Miroku Kashi is a maverick," Sango said wistfully. She did not notice the strain in Kagome's voice. "Be warned. He's also a ladies' man.

"Not this lady," said Kagome, relieved at the change of subject.

Sango cocked an eyebrow. "No? You sure?"

"Absolutely."

The older girl looked at her curiously. "Why? I mean, he's fun and he's cool and he's good-looking. And you're on the loose." She thought about it. "You haven't got someone hiding away, have you?"

Kagome laughed, "No."

"Then why isn't the dashing Miroku in with a chance?"

Kagome's eyes danced. This at least was one area about which she had no secret traumas at all. "Three reasons. One---he doesn't fancy me. Two---I don't get involved with men I work with. Three---I don't fancy him."

Sango was dissatisfied. "Why not? Every other woman in the school does." Although neither of them was going to admit it, this included Sango herself...another reason as to why Kagome wouldn't go with him.

Kagome shrugged. "I guess I'm just different."

"Not that different," said Sango dryly. "You're twenty-four. You're unattached and datable. Where's the problem?"

Kagome hesitated. "Let's just say, I think very carefully before I give my heart."

Sango snorted loudly. "Who has the time to think? You don't know what you're talking about."

"You could be right," Kagome admitted. She pushed her half-drunk coffee away from her. "I'll just put my painting stuff into the conservatory and then I'll take you out for brunch. It's really great of you to give me hand like this."

"Anytime," said Sango, shrugging her shoulders. "Especially if you're going to ask me over to play in this kitchen."

Kagome was stacking squares of hardboard and canvas under her arm.

"Sure, if you want to," she said.

"Really? Would it be all right?"

Kagome was amused. " I'm house-sitting. I'm not a purdah. Mrs. Hakuro said I could do what I want within reason."

Sango put down her own coffee and picked up the sketchbooks.

"What does that mean? No Roman orgies?"

They went downstairs to the double-height conservatory. Kagome dropped her load with relief and propped it behind a cane chair.

"Well, not trash the place. And I can't sublet, of course. Oh, and I'm not supposed to party loudly. The millionaire next door is freaky about noise."

Sango grinned and handed over the sketchbooks.

"Kiss goodbye to DBSK in the home, then," she said. "It's going to be a long, boring summer."

Sesshoumaru shut the door on Kagura with finality. After a discreet couple of minutes Mrs. Bates emerged from the kitchen.

"You must be tired after your journey," she said. She was much too professional to refer to the altercation, or the talk with Kagura she could not have avoided hearing. "Breakfast? Coffee?"

Sesshoumaru pushed a hand through his hair. He was beyond discretion. The Bates had been with him a long time.

"Women," he said explosively. "What I need is a strong drink. How is the whisky in the study?"

"Ah." Mrs. Bates looked uncomfortable. "Dr Shitai arrived last night. He was working late and..."

Sesshoumaru sighed. Totosai Shitai was an old, in terms of his age also, friend and a distinguished researcher. But he left borrowed rooms in turmoil.

"You mean the study looks like a cyclone hit it and you don't even know where the whisky decanter is, let alone whether it's full?" he interpreted.

Mrs. Bates chuckled. "That's about the size of it."

"And I suppose Totosai is not up yet? So his papers are everywhere and you don't like to tidy them in care you misplace something vital."

Mrs. Bates heard his annoyance with the ease of long practice. "You said yourself his work is very important."

"Yes." Sesshoumaru breathed hard. "I did, didn't I? God preserve me from out of town friends."

"Why don't you sit in the summerhouse?" Mrs. Bates suggested soothingly. "It's a lovely morning and you'll be quite comfortable. Bates put up the rocker. "I'll bring you out some breakfast."

Sesshoumaru gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Menielle, are you pacifying me?"

"Just trying to be practical," the housekeeper assured him. She added temptingly, "The coffee's fresh-brewed."

He flung up his hands. "Oh, very well. Whatever you say. Just make sure everyone keeps away from me until I feel human again."

In the end Sango would not---could not stay for brunch. The dilapidated van was borrowed and she had to return it to her brother's boss. She hesitated, though, looking at Kagome with concern.

"Are you sure you'll be alright? I mean, I know it's a smashing place and everything. But it's not like sharing, after all.

Kagome made a face. "After the last three months, I'm never going to share again," she said with resolution. She hugged Sango. "Believe me, being on my own is going to be a luxury." And seeing her friend was still doubtful, she added, "First I'm going to have a Jacuzzi for the first time in my life. And them I'm going to paint the lilac tree in the garden. Heaven. Really."

"Oh, all right," said Sango. "I suppose you know what you're doing. But if you get lonely, just give me a ring."

"I won't get lonely," said Kagome.

Sesshoumaru was passing the telephone on his way to the garden when it rang. On pure instinct he picked it up.

Kagura did not even give him a chance to say anything. "Don't think you've seen the last of me," she hissed.

She had to be on her mobile phone.

"You shouldn't drive and be using your cell at the same time," Sesshoumaru said calmly.

She ignored that. "I'm sending you the bill for the damage to my car."

He sighed. "And I'll be happy to pay it."

"You'd better."

Sesshoumaru was so tired he felt light-headed. This, he thought, is ludicrous. He said so.

Kagura gave a bark of unamused laughter. "It certainly is. I thought we were going to have a sensible talk."

"We did," Sesshoumaru said levelly. "There is no more to be said."

"Now that's where you're wrong. I have plenty more to say."

He could believe. He said wearily, "Just send me the bill for the car, Kagura."

"Oh, no. I'm not letting you walk away from this."

He stiffened. But before he could demand an explanation, she spat, "You owe me, Sesshoumaru. You'll pay, believe me."

And she cut the connection.

YAY I'm finished my first chapter in my first fanfic. Plz tell me if anything is wrong with it other than being boring for now anyway...I hope...hehehe . ; )

FLAMES ALLOWED...