Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of fun… especially for the one whose interest is piqued. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This oneshot was originally posted to Live Journal on April 8, 2009.

Singled Out

Miroku drummed restless fingers on the countertop as he watched Sango move from table to table, filling napkin holders. Like clockwork, she'd slipped through the gate and out of his reach as soon as the post-lunch lull was upon them. She has to be the least permissive woman I've ever met. Usually, his female acquaintances grew accustomed to his familiarity and made allowances for it, but Sango didn't give an inch. She was hyperaware of his presence, and she shied away from even the most casual of contact.

The skittishness might have concerned him, but she acted normally enough around Shippo and even Inuyasha. Alas, I'm the one who's been singled out. I suppose there's a perverse honor in being acknowledged as the sole threat to the stronghold of her heart. Sango's reticence was unprecedented, and the more she kept him at bay, the closer he wanted to get. Much, much closer…

Inuyasha walked by, flicking his forehead in passing. "Oi… get your mind out of the gutter before she notices you ogling."

Miroku rubbed his abused brow and protested, "I wasn't ogling; I was admiring."

"Either way, Sango'll take it personally, so rein in that perverted imagination of yours and do something useful… like your job."

"Slave-driver," Miroku sassed, though he turned his attention back to the milk he was supposed to be steaming. While he frothed, he kept half an eye on his elusive coworker. She's spoiling my fun. Hide and seek. Touch and go. Catch and release. He loved the give and take of flirtatious banter, but it took two to play. I wonder what she's protecting so fiercely. "Maybe her prickliness really is proof of my appeal. She's protesting so much because she's attracted to me," he mused, not realizing he'd spoken aloud until Inuyasha snorted.

"I think your logic is being skewed by your libido," the hanyou opined, walking over and thumping his friend on the shoulder. "Look at it this way. I'm the one with claws and fangs, but you're the one she considers a predator."

"Ouch," Miroku replied wryly. Sango finished her puttering, and as she approached the counter, the guys let the subject drop. Miroku offered her a sweet smile, which went to waste since she ignored it… and him. Even purely innocent attempts to be friendly were being shunned. Ouch, indeed.

Sango's attitude had been so darned cute at the outset. Her blatant dislike and fierce glares were a novelty, and he'd enjoyed testing her limits. But in the process of driving her crazy, he'd driven her off, and Miroku had a nagging suspicion that the person behind the barrier Sango used to keep him at a safe distance was someone he'd like to meet. "Perhaps it would be wise to make reparations?" he ventured.

"No doubt… but it's a waste of time if you don't behave yourself. Cross that line she's drawn, and you'll be back at square one before you hit the floor."

Miroku winced. "Even the best of intentions are no match against certain inducements."

"That's just fancy talk for 'I can't keep my hands to myself'," the hanyou pointed out.

"I am open to suggestions."

"If you really want to be friendly, you're going to need to apologize. Maybe try a peace offering. Spring for one of those pastries your folks are so damn proud of; or make her one of your fancy-schmancy lattes," he suggested.

"That could be arranged."

"This ain't right, you know," Inuyasha remarked.

"I know, I know… she's off limits, but…"

"No buts," The hanyou interrupted, giving his friend a warning look. "And that's not what I meant. I'm talking about you asking me for advice about women."

Miroku chuckled. "You're right… I must be desperate."

"We'll know you're really desperate when you start asking for advice from Sesshoumaru," Inuyasha quipped.

Sango turned to stare at her coworkers, whose guffaws filled the entire shop. The old woman whose order she was taking smiled indulgently at the pair, saying, "This must be such a nice place to work. Everyone is so happy and friendly!"

"Friendly?" she echoed, offering the woman her receipt and a tight little smile. Sango glanced back towards Miroku, whose good looks were only further enhanced by his completely genuine grin. "That's one word for it."

End Note: This oneshot was written for the Live Journal community mirsan(underscore)fics, Prompt #4, Spring. 714 words.